AN ENEMY TO THE KING

 From the recently discovered memoirs of the Sieur de la Tournoire

 By Robert Neilson Stephens

Author of "The Continental Dragoon, " "The Road to Paris, " "PhilipWinwood, " etc. 

 1897

CONTENTS. 

I. TWO ENCOUNTERS BY NIGHTII. LOVE-MAKING AT SHORT ACQUAINTANCEIII. THE STRANGE REQUEST OF MLLE. D'ARENCYIV. HOW LA TOURNOIRE WAS ENLIGHTENED IN THE DARKV. HOW LA TOURNOIRE ESCAPED FROM PARISVI. HOW HE FLED SOUTHWARDVII. HOW HE ANNOYED MONSIEUR DE LA CHATREVIII. A SWEET LADY IN DISTRESSIX. THE FOUR RASCALSX. A DISAPPEARANCEXI. HOW THE HERO GAVE HIS WORD AND KEPT ITXII. AT THE CHÂTEAU OF MAURYXIII. HOW DE BERQUIN INVITED DEATHXIV. "GOD GRANT I DO NOT FIND YOU FALSE"XV. TO CLOCHONNE, AFTER MADEMOISELLE!XVI. BEHIND THE CURTAINSXVII. SWORD AND DAGGERXVIII. THE RIDE TOWARDS GUIENNE

AN ENEMY TO THE KING

CHAPTER I. 

TWO ENCOUNTERS BY NIGHT

Hitherto I have written with the sword, after the fashion of greater men, and requiring no secretary. I now take up the quill to set forth, correctly, certain incidents which, having been noised about, stand indanger of being inaccurately reported by some imitator of Brantome and Del'Estoile. If all the world is to know of this matter, let it knowthereof rightly. 

It was early in January, in the year 1578, that I first set out forParis. My mother had died when I was twelve years old, and my father hadfollowed her a year later. It was his last wish that I, his only child, should remain at the château, in Anjou, continuing my studies until theend of my twenty-first year. He had chosen that I should learn manners asbest I could at home, not as page in some great household or as gentlemanin the retinue of some high personage. "A De Launay shall have no masterbut God and the King, " he said. Reverently I had fulfilled hisinjunctions, holding my young impulses in leash. I passed the time insword practice with our old steward, Michel, who had followed my fatherin the wars under Coligny, in hunting in our little patch of woods, reading the Latin authors in the flowery garden of the château, or in myfavorite chamber, --that one at the top of the new tower which had beenbuilt in the reign of Henri II. To replace the original black tower fromwhich the earliest De Launay of note got the title of Sieur de laTournoire. All this while I was holding in curb my impatient desires. Soalmost resistless are the forces that impel the young heart, that theremust have been a hard struggle within me had I had to wait even a monthlonger for the birthday which finally set me free to go what ways Ichose. I rose early on that cold but sunlit January day, mad witheagerness to be off and away into the great world that at last lay opento me. Poor old Michel was sad that I had decided to go alone. But theonly servant whom I would have taken with me was the only one to whom Iwould entrust the house of my fathers in my absence, --old Michel himself. I thought the others too rustic. My few tenants would have made awkwardlackeys in peace, sorry soldiers in war. 

Michel had my portmanteau fastened on my horse, which had been broughtout into the courtyard, and then he stood by me while I took my lastbreakfast in La Tournoire; and, in my haste to be off, I would haveeaten little had he not pressed much upon me, reminding me how manyleagues I would have to ride before meeting a good inn on the Parisroad. He was sad, poor old Michel, at my going, and yet he partook ofsome of my own eagerness. At last I had forced down my unwilling throatfood enough to satisfy even old Michel's solicitude. He girded on me thefinest of the swords that my father had left, placed over my violetvelvet doublet the new cloak I had bought for the occasion, handed me mynew hat with its showy plumes, and stood aside for me to pass out. Inthe pocket of my red breeches was a purse holding enough golden crownsto ease my path for some time to come. I cast one last look around theold hall and, trying to check the rapidity of my breath, and the risingof the lump in my throat, strode out to the court-yard, breathed thefresh air with a new ecstasy, mounted the steaming horse, gave Michel myhand for a moment, and, purposely avoiding meeting his eyes, spoke alast kind word to the old man. After acknowledging the farewells of theother servants, who stood in line trying to look joyous, I started myhorse with a little jerk of the rein, and was borne swiftly through theporte, over the bridge, and out into the world. Behind me was the homeof my fathers and my childhood; before me was Paris. It was a fine, bracing winter morning, and I was twenty-one. A good horse was under me, a sword was at my side, there was money in my pocket. Will I ever feelagain as I did that morning?

Some have stupidly wondered why, being a Huguenot born and bred, I didnot, when free to leave La Tournoire, go at once to offer my sword toHenri of Navarre or to some other leader of our party. This is easilyanswered. If I was a Huguenot, I was also a man of twenty-one; and thelatter much more than the former. Paris was the centre of the world. There was the court, there were the adventures to be had, there must onego to see the whole of life; there would I meet men and make conquests ofwomen. There awaited me the pleasures of which I had known only byreport, there the advancement, the triumphs in personal quarrels; and, above all else, the great love affair of my dreams. Who that is a man andtwenty-one has not such dreams? And who that is a man and seventy wouldhave been without them? Youth and folly go together, each sweetening theother. The greatest fool, I think, is he who would have gone through lifeentirely without folly. What then mattered religion to me? Or whatmattered the rivalry of parties, except as they might serve my ownpersonal ambitions and desires? Youth was ebullient in me. The longing topenetrate the unknown made inaction intolerable to me. I must rush intothe whirlpool; I must be in the very midst of things; I longed forgaiety, for mystery, for contest; I must sing, drink, fight, make love. It is true that there would have been some outlet for my energies in camplife, but no gratification for my finer tastes, no luxury, no suchpleasures as Paris afforded, --little diversity, no elating sense of beingat the core of events, no opportunities for love-making. In Paris werethe pretty women. The last circumstance alone would have decided me. 

I had reached twenty-one without having been deeply in love. I had, ofcourse, had transient periods of inclination towards more than one of thedemoiselles in the neighborhood of La Tournoire; but these demoiselleshad rapidly become insipid to me. As I grew older, I found it less easyto be attracted by young ladies whom I had known from childhood up. I hadnone the less the desire to be in love; but the woman whom I should lovemust be new to me, a mystery, something to fathom and yet unfathomable. She must be a world, inexhaustible, always retaining the charm of thepartly unknown. I had high aspirations. No pretty maid, however low instation, was unworthy a kiss and some flattery; but the real _affaired'amour_ of my life must have no elements but magnificent ones. She mustbe some great lady of the court, and our passion must be attended bycircumstances of mystery, danger, everything to complicate it and raiseit to an epic height. Such was the amour I had determined to find inParis. Remember, you who read this, that I am disclosing the inmostdreams of a man of twenty-one. Such dreams are appropriate to that age;it is only when they are associated with middle age that they becomeridiculous; and when thoughts of amatory conquest are found in commonwith gray hairs, they are loathsome. If I seem to have given my mindlargely up to fancies of love, consider that I was then at the age whensuch fancies rather adorn than deface. Indeed, a young man withoutthoughts of love is as much an anomaly as is an older man who giveshimself up to them. 

I looked back once at La Tournoire, when I reached the top of the hillthat would, in another minute, shut it from my view. I saw old Michelstanding at the porte. I waved my hand to him, and turned to proceed onmy way. Soon the lump in my throat melted away, the moisture left myeyes, and only the future concerned me. Every object that came intosight, every tree along the roadside, now interested me. I passed severaltravellers, some of whom seemed to envy me my indifference to the coldweather, my look of joyous content. 

About noon I overtook, just where the road left a wood and turned tocross a bridge, a small cavalcade consisting of an erect, handsomegentleman of middle age, and several armed lackeys. The gentleman wore ablack velvet doublet, and his attire, from his snowy ruff to his blackboots, was in the best condition. He had a frank, manly countenance thatinvited address. At the turn of the road he saw me, and, taking me in ata glance, he fell behind his lackeys that I might come up to him. Hegreeted me courteously, and after he had spoken of the weather and thepromise of the sky, he mentioned, incidentally, that he was going toParis. I told him my own destination, and we came to talking of thecourt. I perceived, from his remarks, that he was well acquainted there. There was some talk of the quarrels between the King's favorites andthose of his brother, the Duke of Anjou; of the latter's sulkiness overhis treatment at the hands of the King; of the probabilities for andagainst Anjou's leaving Paris and putting himself at the head of themalcontent and Huguenot parties; of the friendship between Anjou and hissister Marguerite, who remained at the Court of France while her husband, Henri of Navarre, held his mimic Huguenot court in Béarn. Presently, thename of the Duke of Guise came up. 

Now we Huguenots held, and still hold, Henri de Guise to have been achief instigator of the event of St. Bartholomew's Night, in 1572. Always I had in my mind the picture of Coligny, under whom my father hadfought, lying dead in his own courtyard, in the Rue de Bethizy, hismurder done under the direction of that same Henri, his body thrown fromhis window into the court at Henri's orders, and there spurned byHenri's foot. I had heard, too, of this illustrious duke's opencontinuance of his amour with Marguerite, queen of our leader, Henri ofNavarre. When I spoke of him to the gentleman at whose side I rode, Iput no restraint on my tongue. 

"The Duke of Guise!" I said. "All that I ever wish to say of him canbe very quickly spoken. If, as you Catholics believe, God has anearthly representative in the Pope, then I think the devil has one inHenri de Guise. "

The gentleman was quiet for a moment, and looked very sober. Then hesaid gravely:

"All men have their faults, monsieur. The difference between men is thatsome have no virtues to compensate for their vices. "

"If Henri de Guise has any virtues, " I replied, "he wears a mask overthem; and he conceals them more effectually than he hides hispredilection for assassination, his amours, and his design to rule Francethrough the Holy League of which he is the real head. "

The gentleman turned very red, and darted at me a glance of anger. Thenrestraining himself, he answered in a very low tone:

"Monsieur, the subject can be discussed by us in only one way, or notat all. You are young, and it would be too pitiful for you to be cutoff before you have even seen Paris. Doubtless, you are impatient toarrive there. It would be well, then, if you rode on a little faster. It is my intention to proceed at a much slower pace than will beagreeable to you. "

And he reined in his horse. 

I reined in mine likewise. I was boiling with wrath at his superior tone, and his consideration for my youth, but I imitated his coolness as wellas I could. 

"Monsieur, " said I, "whether or not I ever see Paris is not a matter toconcern you. I cannot allow you to consider my youth. You wish to beobliging; then consider that nothing in the world would be a greaterfavor to me than an opportunity to maintain with my sword my opinion ofHenri de Guise. "

The man smiled gently, and replied without passion:

"Then, as we certainly are not going to fight, let my refusal be, not onaccount of your youth, but on account of my necessity of reaching Pariswithout accident. "

His horse stood still. His lackeys also had stopped their horses, whichstood pawing and snorting at a respectful distance. It was an awkwardmoment for me. I could not stand there trying to persuade a perfectlyserene man to fight. So with an abrupt pull of the rein I started myhorse, mechanically applied the spur, and galloped off. A few minuteslater I was out of sight of this singularly self-controlled gentleman, who resented my description of the Duke of Guise. I was annoyed for sometime to think that he had had the better of the occurrence; and I gavemyself up for an hour to the unprofitable occupation of mentallyreenacting the scene in a manner more creditable to myself. 

"I may meet him in Paris some day, " I said to myself, "and find anoccasion to right myself in his estimation. He shall not let my youthintercede for me again. "

Then I wished that I had learned his name, that I might, on reachingParis, have found out more about him. Having in his suite no gentlemen, but several lackeys, he was, doubtless, not himself an importantpersonage, but a follower of one. Not wishing to meet him again untilcircumstances should have changed, I passed the next inn to which I came, guessing that he would stop there. He must have done so, for he did notcome up with me that day, or at any time during my journey. 

It was at sunset on a clear, cold evening that, without furtheradventure, I rode into Paris through the Porte St. Michel, and stared, as I proceeded along the Rue de la Harpe, at the crowds of peoplehurrying in either direction in each of the narrow, crooked streets, each person so absorbed in his own errand, and so used to the throng andthe noise, that he paid no heed to the animation that so interested andstirred me. The rays of the setting sun lighted up the towers of thecolleges and abbeys at my right, while those at my left stood blackagainst the purple and yellow sky. I rode on and on, not wishing to stopat an inn until I should have seen more of the panorama that so charmedme. At last I reached the left bank of the Seine, and saw before me thelittle Isle of the City, the sunlit towers of Notre Dame rising abovethe wilderness of turrets and spires surrounding them. I crossed thePont St. Michel, stopping for a moment to look westward towards the Tourde Nesle, and then eastward to the Tournelle, thus covering, in twoglances, the river bank of the University through which I had just come. Emerging from the bridge, I followed the Rue de la Barillerie across theIsle of the City, finding everywhere the same bustle, the same comingand going of citizens, priests, students, and beggars, all alert, yetnot to be surprised by any spectacle that might arise before them. Reaching the right arm of the Seine, I stopped again, this time on thePont-au-Change, and embraced, in a sweeping look from left to right, theriver bank of the town, the Paris of the court and the palaces, of themarkets and of trade, the Paris in which I hoped to find a splendidfuture, the Paris into which, after taking this comprehensive view fromthe towers of the Louvre and the Tour de Bois away leftward, to the Tourde Billy away right ward, I urged my horse with a jubilant heart. It wasa quite dark Paris by the time I plunged into it. The Rue St. Denis, along which I rode, was beginning to be lighted here and there by strayrays from windows. The still narrower streets, that ran, like crookedcorridors in a great château, from the large thoroughfare, seemed to bealtogether dark. 

But, dark as the city had become, I had determined to explore some of itthat night, so charming was its novelty, so inviting to me were itscountless streets, leading to who knows what? I stopped at a large inn inthe Rue St. Denis, saw my tired horse well cared for by an hostler, whoseemed amazed at my rustic solicitude for details, had my portmanteaudeposited in a clean, white-washed chamber, overlooking the street, ate asupper such as only a Paris innkeeper can serve and a ravenous youth fromthe country can devour, and went forth afoot, after curfew, into the nowentirely dark and no longer crowded street, to find what might befall me. 

It had grown colder at nightfall, and I had to draw my cloak closelyaround me. A wind had come up, too, and the few people whom I met werewalking with head thrust forward, the better to resist the breeze when itshould oppose them. Some were attended by armed servants bearinglanterns. The sign-boards, that hung from the projecting stories of thetall houses, swung as the wind swayed, and there was a continual sound ofcreaking. Clouds had risen, and the moon was obscured much of the time, so that when I looked down some of the narrower streets I could not seewhether they ended within a short distance, turned out of sight, orcontinued far in the same direction. Being accustomed to the countryroads, the squares of smaller towns, and the wide avenues of the littlepark at La Tournoire, I was at first surprised at the narrowness of thestreets. Across one of them lay a drunken man, peacefully snoring. Hishead touched the house on one side of the street, and his feet pressedthe wall on the opposite side. It surprised me to find so many of thestreets no wider than this. But there was more breathing room wherevertwo streets crossed and where several of them opened into some greatplace. The crookedness and curvature of the streets constantly tempted meto seek what might be beyond, around the corner, or the bend; andwhenever I sought, I found still other corners or bends hiding theunknown, and luring me to investigate. 

I had started westward from the inn, intending to proceed towards theLouvre. But presently, having turned aside from one irregular streetinto another, I did not know what was the direction in which I went. The only noises that I heard were those caused by the wind, exceptingwhen now and then came suddenly a burst of loud talk, mingled mirth andjangling, as quickly shut off, when the door of some cabaret opened andclosed. When I heard footsteps on the uneven pebble pavement of thestreet, and saw approaching me out of the gloom some cloakedpedestrian, I mechanically gripped the handle of my sword, and kept awary eye on the stranger, --knowing that in passing each other we mustalmost touch elbows. His own suspicious and cautious demeanor andmotions reflected mine. 

At night, in the narrow streets of a great town, there exists in everyfootfall heard, every human figure seen emerging from the darkness, thepossibility of an encounter, an adventure, something unexpected. So, tothe night roamer, every human sound or sight has an unwonted interest. 

As I followed the turning of one of the narrowest streets, the darkness, some distance ahead of me, was suddenly cleft by a stream of light from awindow that was quickly opened in the second story of a tall house on theright-hand side of the way. Then the window was darkened by the form of aman coming from the chamber within. At his appearance into view I stoodstill. Resting for a moment on his knees on the window-ledge, he loweredfirst one leg, then the other, then his body, and presently he washanging by his hands over the street. Then the face of a woman appearedin the window, and as the man remained there, suspended, he looked up ather inquiringly. 

"It is well, " she said, in a low tone; "but be quick. We are just intime. " And she stood ready to close the window as soon as he should beout of the way. 

"Good night, adorable, " he replied, and dropped to the street. Thelady immediately closed the window, not even waiting to see how theman had alighted. 

Had she waited to see that, she would have seen him, in lurching over toprevent his sword from striking the ground, lose his balance on adetached paving-stone, and fall heavily on his right arm. 

"_Peste_!" he hissed, as he slowly scrambled to his feet. "I havebroken my arm!"

With his right arm hanging stiff by his side, and clutching its elbowwith his left hand, as if in great pain, he hastened away from the spot, not having noticed me. I followed him. 

After a second turn, the street crossed another. In the middle of theopen space at the junction, there stood a cross, as could be seen by themoonlight that now came through an interval in the procession ofwind-driven clouds. 

Just as the man with the hurt arm, who was slender, and had a dandifiedwalk, entered this open space, a gust of wind came into it with him; andthere came, also, from the other street, a robust gentleman of mediumheight, holding his head high and walking briskly. Caught by the gust ofwind, my gentleman from the second story window ran precipitantly intothe other. The robust man was not sent backward an inch. He took theshock of meeting with the firmness of an unyielding wall, so that theslender gentleman rebounded. Each man uttered a brief oath, and graspedhis sword, the slender one forgetting the condition of his arm. 

"Oh, it is you, " said the robust man, in a virile voice, of which thetone was now purposely offensive. "The wind blows fragile articles intoone's face to-night. "

"It blows gentlemen into muck-heaps, " responded the other, quickly. 

The hearty gentleman gave a loud laugh, meant to aggravate the other'sanger, and then said:

"We do not need seconds, M. De Quelus, " putting into his utterance of theother's name a world of insult. 

"Come on, then, M. Bussy d'Amboise, " replied the other, pronouncing thename only that he might, in return, hiss out the final syllable as if itwere the word for something filthy. 

Both whipped out their swords, M. De Quelus now seemingly unconscious ofthe pain in his arm. 

I looked on from the shadow in which I had stopped, not having followedDe Quelus into the little open space. My interest in the encounter wasnaturally the greater for having learned the names of the antagonists. AtLa Tournoire I had heard enough of the court to know that the Marquis deQuelus was the chief of the King's effeminate chamberlains, whom hecalled his minions, and that Bussy d'Amboise was the most redoubtable ofthe rufflers attached to the King's discontented brother, the Duke ofAnjou; and that between the dainty gentlemen of the King and the bullyingswordsmen of the Duke, there was continual feud. 

Bussy d'Amboise, disdaining even to remove his cloak, of which he quicklygathered the end under his left arm, made two steps and a thrust at DeQuelus. The latter made what parade he could for a moment, so that Bussystepped back to try a feint. De Quelus, trying to raise his sword atrifle higher, uttered an ejaculation of pain, and then dropped thepoint. Bussy had already begun the motion of a lunge, which it was toolate to arrest, even if he had discovered that the other's arm wasinjured and had disdained to profit by such an advantage. De Quelus wouldhave been pierced through had not I leaped forward with drawn sword and, by a quick thrust, happened to strike Bussy's blade and make it divergefrom its course. 

De Quelus jumped back on his side, as Bussy did on his. Both regarded mewith astonishment. 

"Oh, ho, an ambush!" cried Bussy. "Then come on, all of you, messieurs ofthe daubed face and painted beard! I shall not even call my servants, whowait at the next corner. "

And he made a lunge at me, which I diverted by a parry made on instinct, not having had time to bring my mind to the direction of matters. Bussythen stood back on guard. 

"You lie, " said De Quelus, vainly trying to find sufficient strengthin his arm to lift his sword. "I was alone. My servants are as nearas yours, yet I have not called. As for this gentleman, I never sawhim before. "

"That is true, " I said, keeping up my guard, while Bussy stood with hisback to the cross, his brows knit in his effort to make out my features. 

"Oh, very well, " said Bussy. "I do not recognize him, but he is evidentlya gentleman in search of a quarrel, and I am disposed to beaccommodating. "

He attacked me again, and I surprised myself, vastly, by being able toresist the onslaughts of this, the most formidable swordsman at thecourt of France. But I dared not hope for final victory. It did not evenoccur to me as possible that I might survive this fight. The best forwhich I hoped was that I might not be among the easiest victims of thisfamous sword. 

"Monsieur, " said De Quelus, while Bussy and I kept it up, with offenceon his part, defence on mine, "I am sorry that I cannot intervene tosave your life. My arm has been hurt in a fall, and I cannot even holdup my sword. "

"I know that, " I replied. "That is why I interfered. "

"The devil!" cried Bussy. "Much as I detest you, M. De Quelus, you know Iwould not have attacked you had I known that. But this gentleman, atleast, has nothing the matter with his arm. "

And he came for me again. 

Nothing the matter with my arm! Actually a compliment upon mysword-handling from the most invincible fighter, whether in formal duelor sudden quarrel, in France! I liked the generosity which impelled himto acknowledge me a worthy antagonist, as much as I resented hisoverbearing insolence; and I began to think there was a chance for me. 

For the first time, I now assumed the offensive, and with such suddennessthat Bussy fell back, out of sheer surprise. He had forgotten about thecross that stood in the centre of the place, and, in leaping backward, hestruck this cross heavily with his sword wrist. His glove did not savehim from being jarred and bruised; and, for a moment, he relaxed his firmgrasp of his sword, and before he could renew his clutch I could havedestroyed his guard and ended the matter; but I dropped my point instead. 

Bussy looked at me in amazement, and then dropped his. 

"Absurd, monsieur! You might very fairly have used your advantage. Now you have spoiled everything. We can't go on fighting, for I wouldnot give you another such opening, nor would I kill a man who givesme my life. "

"As you will, monsieur, " said I. "I am glad not to be killed, for whatis the use of having fought Bussy d'Amboise if one may not live toboast of it?"

He seemed pleased in his self-esteem, and sheathed his sword. "I amdestined not to fight to-night, " he answered. "One adversary turns out tohave a damaged arm, which would make it a disgrace to kill him, and theother puts me under obligation for my life. But, M. De Quelus, your armwill recover. "

"I hope so, if for only one reason, " replied Quelus. 

Bussy d'Amboise then bowed to me, and strode on his way. He was joined atthe next crossing of streets by four lackeys, who had been waiting inshadow. All had swords and pistols, and one bore a lantern, which hadbeen concealed beneath his cloak. 

De Quelus, having looked after him with an angry frown, now turned to me, and spoke with affability:

"Monsieur, had you not observed the condition of my arm, I should haveresented your aid. But as it is, I owe you my life no less than he owesyou his, and it may be that I can do more than merely acknowledge theobligation. "

I saw here the opportunity for which a man might wait months, and I wasnot such a fool as to lose it through pride. 

"Monsieur, " I said, "I am Ernanton de Launay, Sieur de la Tournoire. Iarrived in Paris to-day, from Anjou, with the desire of enlisting in theFrench Guards. "

De Quelus smiled. "You desire very little for a gentleman, and one whocan handle a sword so well. "

"I know that, but I do not bring any letters, and I am not one who couldexpect the favor of a court appointment. I am a Huguenot. "

"A Huguenot?" said De Quelus. "And yet you come to Paris?"

"I prefer to serve the King of France. He is at present on good termswith the Huguenots, is he not?"

"Yes, --at least, he is not at war with them. Well, gentlemen like you arenot to be wasted, even though Huguenots. Attach yourself to Duret'scompany of the guards for the present, and who knows when you may win avacant captaincy? I will bring you to the attention of the King. Can yoube, to-morrow at eleven o'clock, at the principal gate of the Louvre?"

"Yes, monsieur. "

"Very well. I will speak to Captain Duret, also, about you. "

He looked at my active figure, neither tall nor short, neither broad nortoo thin, observed the length of my arm, and remembered that I had madeso respectable a showing with the sword against Bussy, I could see thathe was thinking, "It is well to have in one's debt as many such strongand honest young gentlemen as can be had. Even a Huguenot may be usefulin these days. "

Then, when so many leaders contended, every man was desirous of gainingpartisans. At court, wise people were scrupulous to repay obligations, inthe hope of securing future benefit. I divined De Quelus's motives, butwas none the less willing to profit by them as to the possible vacantcaptaincy. 

"Then I thank you, monsieur, and will keep the appointment, " I said. 

"You are alone, " said De Quelus. "One does not know when one may haveone's throat cut for a sou, after dark in the streets of Paris. Will youaccept the escort of two of my servants? They are waiting for me in thenext street. One does not, you know, let one's servants wait too nearwindows out of which one expects to drop, " he added with a smile. 

"I thank you, monsieur, but I have already fared so well alone to-night, that I should fear to change my fortune by taking attendants. "

"Then good night, monsieur. No, thank you. I can sheathe my own sword. Myarm has lost its numbness. _Parbleu_, I should like to meet Bussyd'Amboise now. "

And he strode away, leaving me standing by the cross. 

I hesitated between returning to the inn, and resuming my exploration ofthe streets. I decided to go back, lest I be shut out for the night. 

I had made my way some distance, in the labyrinth of streets, when, onreaching another junction of ways, I heard steps at some distance to theleft. Looking in that direction, I saw approaching a little processionheaded by two men servants, one of whom carried a lantern. I stepped backinto the street from which I had just emerged, that I might remainunseen, until it should pass. Peering around the street corner, I sawthat behind the two servants came a lady, whose form indicated youth andelegance, and who leaned on the arm of a stout woman, doubtless aservant. Behind these two came another pair of lackeys. 

The lady wore a mask, and although heavily cloaked, shivered in theJanuary wind, and walked as rapidly as she could. The four men had swordsand pistols, and were sturdy fellows, able to afford her good protection. 

The two men in advance passed without seeing me, stepping easily over apool of muddy water that had collected in a depression in the street, andhad not yet had time to freeze. 

When the lady reached this pool, she stopped at its brink and looked downat it, with a little motion of consternation. 

"I cannot step across this lake, " she said, in a voice that waslow-pitched, rich, and full of charm to the ear. "We must skirtits borders. "

And she turned to walk a short distance up the street in which I stood. 

"Not so, madame, " I said, stepping forth and bowing. "The lake is a longone, and you would have to go far out of your way. I will convey youacross in a moment, if you will allow me. " And I held out my arms, indicating my willingness to lift her across the pool. 

The two servants in the rear now hastened up, ready to attack me, andthose ahead turned and came back, their hands on their weapons. 

The lady looked at me through the eye-holes of her mask. Her lips andchin being visible, she could not conceal a quizzical smile that cameat my offer. 

"Why not?" she said, motioning her servants back. 

I caught her up in my arms and lifted her over the puddle. She slid frommy grasp with a slight laugh. 

I sought some pretext to prolong this meeting. "When I came outto-night, " I said, "I dared not hope for such happiness as this. "

"Nor did the astrologer predict anything of the kind to me, " she replied. From this I knew the cause of her being in the street so late, --a secretvisit to some fortune-teller. Then she called to the stout woman, who waslooking for a place to step over the pool. "Come, Isa, in the name ofHeaven. You know that if the guard is changed--"

She stopped, but she had already betrayed herself. She meant the guard ofthe palace, doubtless; and that her secret entrance, so long after theclosing of the gates, depended for its ease on the presence of someofficer with whom she had an understanding. She must be one of the ladiesattached to the royal household, and her nocturnal excursion, from theLouvre, was evidently clandestine. 

Isa now joined her mistress, and the latter, with a mere, "I thank you, monsieur, " turned and hastened on her way. Soon the footsteps of herattendants died out of hearing. 

I had not even seen her face, save the white, curved chin and thedelicate mouth. I had only beheld her lithe figure, felt its heaving as Icarried her, had my cold cheek warmed for a moment by her breath, heardher provoking laugh and her voice, rich with vitality. Yet her charm hadcaught me and remained with me. I could not, nor did I try to throw itoff. I was possessed by a craving to see her again, to know more of her. Already I made this unknown the heroine of my prospective love affair. Icould soon find her, after gaining the entrée of the court; and I couldidentify her by her voice as well as by her probable recognition of me. Heaving a deep sigh, I left the place of our meeting and found my wayback to the inn. Thanks to the presence of some late drinkers, I got inwithout much pounding on the door; and in my little white-washed chamberI dreamt of soft eyes that glowed through the holes of a lady's mask. 

CHAPTER II. 

LOVE-MAKING AT SHORT ACQUAINTANCE

The next morning was bright, and not too cold. At eleven I approached thegreat gate of the Louvre, wearing the bold demeanor of a man determinednot to be abashed, even by the presence of royalty. Yet within me therewas some slight trepidation lest I should, on first setting foot withinthe precincts of a palace, betray my rustic bringing up. 

Others were being admitted at the gate, and some were coming out, boththe King's council and the reception having been over for some time. Apage, who had been waiting just inside the court, came out as Iapproached, and asked me if I were M. De Launay. Astonished, that heshould have so easily picked me out, I replied that I was. He then saidthat he had come to conduct me to Monsieur the Marquis de Quelus, and Ifollowed him into the great courtyard of the Louvre. 

Before me was the imposing façade of the palace. Around me was ananimated scene of well-dressed gentlemen coming and going, meeting oneanother forming little groups for a moment's interchange of news orinquiries, and as quickly breaking up. There were soldiers on guard, officers on duty and off, courtiers in brilliant doublets, dazzlingruffs, rich hose; gentlemen with gay plumes, costly cloaks, jewelledsword-hilts. There were pages, strutting about with messages; lackeys, belonging only to the greatest nobles or royal favorites. Everybody, whether gentleman, soldier, household officer, priest, page, or valet, went with an air of great consequence, with head high in air, everystep, expression, and attitude proclaiming a sense of vast superiorityto the rest of the world. It was as if people attached to the court werean elevated race of beings; or as if the court were Olympus, and thesewere gods and the servitors of gods, who, very properly, regardedmortals with disdain. Each man, too, maintained not only this lofty airas befitting one of the court, but also an aspect of individualpreciousness as towards his fellow divinities. There was, in many a faceor bearing, an expressed resentment, in advance, of any affront thatmight be offered. The soldiers swaggered, the gentlemen showedself-esteem in every motion. Nevertheless, there was much good natureand courtesy in the salutations, fragments of conversation, andexchanges of gossip. Leaving the sunlit courtyard behind, the pageshowed me up a fine stairway, where some gentlemen tarried in littleparties, while others ascended or descended. We passed through largegalleries, the same animation continuing everywhere. I had no time, aswe passed, to examine the superb hangings and fanciful decorations ofthe galleries in detail. The clothes of the courtiers, the brilliantdisplay of velvet, silk, furs, and the finest linen, of every known hue, made a continually changing, moving panorama of color. 

We approached, at last, a group extraordinarily radiant in attire. It wascomposed of very young men, some of whom had hardly yet acquired thebeard required by the universal fashion. Even at a distance I could seethat their cheeks were painted, could note their affectation of feminineattitudes, could smell the perfumes with which they had deluged theirbodies. These were some of the favorites of the King, and more of theimitators of the favorites. No wonder that Bussy d'Amboise and the sturdygentlemen of the King's ungainly brother, Anjou, had a manly detestationfor these bedaubed effeminates, and sought opportunities to extirpatethem with the sword. Yet these dainty youths, one of whom was De Quelus, who now came forward to meet me, were not cowards. 

The young Marquis wore a slashed doublet of brown velvet and gold. Hissilken hose were of a lighter tint of brown. His ruff was so enormousthat he had to keep the point of his beard thrust forward at anelevation. 

"I shall present you when the King passes, " he said to me. "I havealready spoken a word to Captain Duret, to whom you will reportto-morrow. He will make a veteran of you in a quarter of an hour. TheKing, by the way, knows of your family. He knows every family in France, for that matter. I spoke of you to him at his rising this morning. Hesaid that your father was a Huguenot, and I told him that you also wereProtestant. You know enough of things in France to be aware that yourProtestantism stands a little in your way at court, just now; but thingsmay change before there is a vacant captaincy in the Guards. "

People who have thought it bad enough that I should have gone to Paris, instead of to the court of Henri of Navarre, have been astonished, beyond expression, at my having desired to serve in the King's infantry, which, in the event of another civil war, might be arrayed against thearmy of our faith. But it must be borne in mind that I had this desireat a time when none knew how the different armies might be placedtowards one another in the civil war, which everybody admitted must, atsome time or other, occur. I was one of the many who believed that theDuke of Guise, using the newly formed Holy League as his instrument, would aim for the throne of France; that King Henri III. Would beforced, in self-defence, to make an alliance with the Huguenot leaders;and that, therefore, I, in fulfilling my ambition to be of this King'sown soldiers, with quarters in or near Paris in time of peace, would, atthe outbreak of civil war, find myself in line with the armies of ourfaith, opposed to the common enemy, the great Catholic Guise faction. Ofthe various predictions as to the future of France, I chose this one, perhaps because it was the only one which permitted me to follow out mywishes without outraging my sense of duty. 

Before I could answer De Quelus, a voice said, "The King!" At the end ofthe gallery, where two halberdiers and two ushers stood, a pair ofcurtains had quickly parted, and out came a slender young man all velvet, silk, gold, and jewels; with the legs and the walk of a woman; with facepainted like a courtesan's; a very slight beard on his chin, and a weakgrowth of hair on his upper lip; with a look half brazen, halfshamefaced; with eyes half wistful, half malicious; his pear-shaped faceexpressing some love of the beautiful, some wit, some cynicism, muchpersonal vanity, vicious inclinations and practices, restlessness, thetorture of secret self-reproach, a vague distress, a longing to escapesomewhere and be at peace. 

He wore ear-rings, a necklace, bracelets, and a small jewelled velvetcap; but he was without his famous basket of little dogs. This was HenriIII. , and he was going to pray in one of the churches. 

As he came down the gallery, he noticed De Quelus, from afar, and thenglanced at me. When he was before us, De Quelus made obeisance andpresented me. Before I could finish my bow, the King said:

"Ah, it was your sword that helped to preserve my chamberlain from theambush laid for him?" (From which it appeared that De Quelus had givenhis own account of the previous night's occurrence. ) "And you wish toenlist in my regiment of French Guards? My faith, I have done well inreestablishing that corps, if such brave young gentlemen are induced toenter it. I'll wager you hope to earn a commission soon. "

I could only reply: "Such a hope is beyond my deserts, sire. "

It was indeed beyond them, for I had seen no military service; but it wasnot beyond them for any other reason. 

"Nothing is beyond the deserts of one whose sword is always loyal, " saidthe King, with intended significance, and passed on; his gentlemenfalling in behind him. De Quelus gave me directions as to my reporting, on the morrow, to Captain Duret, and added, "Rely on me for any favor orprivilege that you may wish, and for access to the palace. You have onlyto send me word. " He then joined the following of the King. 

I seemed now at liberty to remain in the Louvre as long as I mightchoose, having once entered it. I thought I would look about, knowingthat if at any time I should be about to trespass on forbidden ground, there would be guards to hinder me. I went first to a window overlookingthe court. I had no sooner turned my eyes down upon the splendid andanimated scene below, then I felt a touch on my elbow. Looking around, Isaw a familiar face, --that of M. De Rilly, another Anjou gentleman, whomI had known before his coming to court. He was now one of the King'sequerries. 

He was a sprightly man of about thirty, with none of the effeminacy thatmarked so many of the officers of the King's household. Though not of myreligion, he made me heartily welcome, and undertook, at once, toinitiate me into the mysteries of the court. He was a loquacious, open-minded man, who did not fear to express his thoughts, even in theshadow of royalty itself. 

Hearing some clatter in the direction whither the King had gone, I lookedafter him. A short, compact young gentleman, plainly, but richly dressed, slightly stooping, with a rather surly face, and an envious eye, wascoming towards the King. He wore riding-boots and a cloak, and behindhim came a troop of young men similarly attired. The foremost of them wasBussy d'Amboise, expressing defiance in every line of his bold, squarecountenance. 

"Ah, " said De Rilly, "there is the Duke of Anjou, who has been riding inthe faubourg. "

I took a second look at the surly gentleman. At this moment he exchangedglances with his brother, the King. The look of each was eloquent. TheKing's said, "I hate you for being a disloyal brother and a fractioussubject; for conspiring to take away part of my kingdom; and who knowsbut that you are secretly aiming at my throne and my life?" The youngerbrother's look conveyed this much: "I hate you for your suspicions of me;for your not obtaining for me in your court the respect due the son andbrother of a king; for encouraging your favorites to ridicule me. If I amdriven to rebel against you, it is your own fault. "

The King received the Duke's perfunctory salutation indifferently, andpassed on. Anjou and his men turned into a gallery leading to his ownapartments. 

"I see that everybody is following the King, " I said. 

"Yes, but not I, " replied De Rilly. "I find it no more amusing to praywhen the King does than at any other time. I came here, this morning, tocatch a glimpse of one of the Queen's ladies, but her Majesty has a cold, and my lady is in attendance. "

"Which of the Queens has a cold?"

"Queen Louise, the King's wife. It is true, one may well ask which, whenthere is mention of the Queen nowadays. The Queen of France is a smallfactor when compared with the King's mother, Queen Catherine, or evenwith his sister, the Queen of Navarre, whose name is on everyone'stongue, on account of her love affairs, and of her suspected plots. "

"What plots?"

"Some think she plots with the Duke of Guise, who cannot wait to ruleFrance until Catherine's sons are both dead, --but Catherine will makehim wait. Others believe that she plots with her Huguenot husband, theKing of Navarre, to join him; and that the King keeps her here virtuallya prisoner, lest her departure might be taken as a concession to theHuguenots; and, lastly and chiefly, they aver that she plots with herbrother Anjou, to help him to join the Huguenots and malcontents astheir leader. "

"This is very interesting, M. De Rilly; but, pardon me, is it safe to saythese things openly at court? I am fresh from the country, and anxiousnot to blunder. "

"It is safe for me, because I am nobody at all, and, moreover, I saywhatever is in my thoughts, and am looked upon as a rattlebrain, and nottaken seriously. But it would not be safe for some. There comes the Queenof Navarre now. She and her ladies have been walking in their garden. "

A number of ladies were entering the gallery from a side stairway. Marguerite de Valois, who ought to have been with her husband, the Kingof Navarre, at his little court at Nerac, remained instead at the courtof France, to be its greatest ornament. She was, alas, its greatestscandal, also. But I admired her none the less for that, as she stoodthere, erect among her women, full of color and grace. Vast possibilitiesof mischief seemed buried in the depths of the big and brilliant eyeswhich gave so much life to the small, round face. 

While she stood still for one of her maids to detach from her ruff adead leaf that had dropped there during her walk, Bussy d'Amboisereturned from Anjou's apartment. He walked up to her with a conqueringair, bowed, and said something that made her laugh. Then he lookedaround and saw me. He spoke to her again, in a low tone, and she casther fine eyes in my direction. She directed her ladies to fall back outof hearing, and again conferred with Bussy. At the end of this he lefther, and strode over to me. 

"Monsieur, " he said, "the Queen of Navarre would like to know your name. I do not remember to have heard it last night. "

I told him my name, and he took me by the arm, led me to Marguerite, andpresented me, somewhat to my confusion, so rapidly was the thing done. 

"You are a newcomer at court?" she said. 

"I arrived in Paris only yesterday. "

"And have taken service with--whom?"

"In the French Guards. "

"We shall doubtless hear more of your skill with the sword, " saidMarguerite. 

"I knew not I had any, " I replied, "until I found out that I could standup for a minute against the sword I met last night. Now I am glad to knowthat I possess skill, that I may hold it ever at the service of yourMajesty as well as of the King. "

This speech seemed to be exactly what Marguerite had desired of me, forshe smiled and said, "I shall not forget you, M. De la Tournoire, " beforeshe turned away. 

Bussy followed her, and I returned to De Rilly. 

"Why should they pay any attention to me?" I said to him. 

"No newcomer is too insignificant to be sought as an ally where there areso many parties, " he replied, indifferently. "Those two are with Anjou, who may have use for as many adherents as he can get one of these days. They say he is always meditating rebellion with the Huguenots or thePolitiques, or both, and I don't blame a prince who is so shabbilytreated at court. "

"But what could a mere guardsman do, without friends or influence?Besides, my military duties--"

"Will leave you plenty of time to get into other troubles, if you findthem amusing. How do you intend to pass the rest of the day?"

"I have no plans. I should like to see more of the Louvre on my firstvisit; and, to tell the truth, I had hoped to find out more about acertain lady who belongs to the court. "

"What do you know of her?"

"Only that she has a beautiful figure and a pretty mouth and chin. Shewore a mask, but I should recognize her voice if I heard it again. "

"I wish you better luck than I have had to-day. "

Marguerite and her damsels had turned down a corridor leading to herapartments. Bussy d'Amboise was disappearing down the stairs. There came, from another direction, the lively chatter of women's voices, and thereappeared, at the head of the stairs up which Marguerite had come, anothergroup of ladies, all young and radiant but one. The exception was astout, self-possessed looking woman of middle age, dressed rathersedately in dark satin. She had regular features, calm black eyes, anunruffled expression, and an air of authority without arrogance. 

"Queen Catherine and some of her Flying Squadron, " said De Rilly, inanswer to my look of inquiry. "She has been taking the air after theKing's council. Her own council is a more serious matter, and lasts allthe time. "

"Queen Catherine?" I exclaimed, incredulously, half refusing to see, inthat placid matron, the ceaseless plotter, the woman accused of poisoningand all manner of bloodshed, whom the name represented. 

"Catherine de Medici, " said De Rilly, evidently finding it a pleasure toinstruct a newcomer as to the personages and mysteries of the court. "Shewho preserves the royal power in France at this moment. "

"She does not look as I have imagined her, " I said. 

"One would not suppose, " said De Rilly, "that behind that serenecountenance goes on the mental activity necessary to keep the throne inpossession of her favorite son, who spends fortunes on his minions, taxeshis subjects to the utmost, and disgusts them with his eccentric pietyand peculiar vices. "

"Dare one say such things in the very palace of that King?"

"Why not say what every one knows? It is what people say in hiddenplaces that is dangerous. "

"I wonder what is passing in the Queen-mother's mind at this moment, " Isaid, as Catherine turned into the corridor leading to Anjou'sapartments. 

In the light of subsequent events, I can now give a better answer to thatquery than De Rilly, himself, could have given then. Catherine had to useher wits to check the deep designs of Henri, Duke of Guise, who wasbiding his time to claim the throne as the descendant of Charlemagne, andwas as beloved of the populace as Henri III. Was odious to it. Thanks tothe rebellion of Huguenots and malcontents, Guise had been kept too busyin the field to prosecute his political designs. As head of the Catholicparty, and heir to his father's great military reputation, he could not, consistently, avoid the duties assigned him by the crown. That theseduties might not cease, Catherine found it to her interest that rebellionshould continue indefinitely. The Huguenot party, in its turn, was keptby the Guise or Catholic party from assaults on the crown. In fine, whileboth great factions were occupied with each other, neither could threatenthe King. This discord, on which she relied to keep her unpopular sonsafe on his throne, was fomented by her in secret ways. She shifted fromside to side, as circumstances required. The parties must be maintained, in order that discontent might vent itself in factional contest, and notagainst the King. The King must belong to neither party, in order not tobe of the party that might be ultimately defeated; yet he must belong toboth parties, in order to be of the party that might ultimately triumph. To the maintainance of this impossible situation was the genius ofCatherine de Medici successfully devoted for many years of universaldiscontent and bloodshed. 

Now the Duke of Guise had found a way to turn these circumstances toaccount. Since the King of France could not hold down the Huguenots, theHoly Catholic League, composed of Catholics of every class throughout themost of France, would undertake the task. He foresaw that he, as leaderof the League, would earn from the Catholics a gratitude that would makehim the most powerful man in the kingdom. Catherine, too, saw this. Toneutralize this move, she caused the King to endorse the League andappoint himself its head. The Huguenots must not take this as a stepagainst them; on the contrary, they must be led to regard it as a shrewdmeasure to restrain the League. The King's first official edicts, afterassuming the leadership of the League, seemed to warrant this view. Sothe King, in a final struggle against the Guise elements, might stillrely on the aid of the Huguenots. But the King still remained outside ofthe League, although nominally its chief. Catherine saw that it was notto be deluded from its real purpose. The only thing to do was toconciliate the Duke of Guise into waiting. There was little likelihood ofeither of her sons attaining middle age. The Duke of Guise, a splendidspecimen of physical manhood, would doubtless outlive them; he might beinduced to wait for their deaths. The rightful successor to the thronewould then be Henri of Navarre, head of the Bourbon family. But he was aHuguenot; therefore Catherine affected to the Duke of Guise a greatdesire that he should succeed her sons. The existing peace allowed theDuke of Guise the leisure in which to be dangerous; so every means tokeep him quiet was taken. 

Some of these things De Rilly told me, as we stood in the embrasure of awindow in the gallery, while Catherine visited her son, Anjou, --whosediscontent at court complicated the situation, for he might, at any time, leave Paris and lead the Huguenots and malcontents in a rebellion whichwould further discredit her family with the people, demonstrate anew theKing's incompetence, and give the League an opportunity. 

"And does the Duke of Guise allow himself to be cajoled?" I asked DeRilly. 

"Who knows? He is a cautious man, anxious to make no false step. Theysay he would be willing to wait for the death of the King, but that he isever being urged to immediate action by De Noyard. "

"De Noyard?"

"One of Guise's followers; an obscure gentleman of very great virtue, whohas recently become Guise's most valued counsellor. He keeps Guise on hisguard against Catherine's wiles, they say, and discourages Guise's amourwith her daughter, Marguerite, which Catherine has an interest inmaintaining. Nobody is more _de trop_ to Catherine just at present, Ihear, than this same Philippe de Noyard. Ah! there he is now, --in thecourtyard, the tallest of the gentlemen who have just dismounted, and arecoming in this direction, with the Duke of Guise. "

I looked out of the window, and at once recognized the Duke of Guise bythe great height of his slender but strong figure, the splendid bearing, the fine oval face, with its small mustache, slight fringe of beard, andits scar, and the truly manly and magnificent manner, of which report hadtold us. He wore a doublet of cloth of silver, a black cloak of velvet, and a black hat with the Lorraine cross on its front. The tallest man inhis following--Philippe de Noyard, of whom De Rilly had just beenspeaking--was the gentleman whom I had met on the road to Paris, and whohad refused to fight me after resenting my opinion of the Duke of Guise. 

He must have arrived in Paris close behind me. 

I was watching Guise and his gentlemen as they crossed the court to enterthe palace, when suddenly I heard behind me the voice that had lingeredin my ears all the previous night. I turned hastily around, and saw agroup of Catherine's ladies, who stood around a fireplace, not havingfollowed the Queen-mother to Anjou's apartments. 

"Who is the lady leaning against the tapestry?" I quickly asked De Rilly. 

"The one with the indolent attitude, and the mocking smile?"

"Yes, the very beautiful one, with the big gray eyes. By heaven, her eyesrival those of Marguerite, herself!"

"That is Mlle. D'Arency, a new recruit to Catherine's Flying Squadron. "

Her face more than carried out the promise given by her chin and mouth. It expressed to the eye all that the voice expressed to the ear. 

She had not seen me yet. I had almost made up my mind to go boldly overto her, when the Duke of Guise and his gentlemen entered the gallery. Atthe same instant, Catherine reappeared on the arm of the Duke of Anjou. The latter resigned her to the Duke of Guise, and went back to hisapartment, whereupon Catherine and Guise started for the further end ofthe gallery, as if for private conversation. His manner was courteous, but cold; hers calm and amiable. 

"Ah, see!" whispered De Rilly to me. "What did I tell you?"

Catherine had cast a glance towards Guise's gentlemen. De Noyard, graveand reserved, stood a little apart from the others. For an instant, alook of profound displeasure, a deeply sinister look, interrupted thecomposure of Catherine's features. 

"You see that M. De Noyard does not have the effect on the Queen-motherthat a rose in her path would have, " remarked De Rilly. 

He did not notice what followed. But I observed it, although not tilllong afterward did I see its significance. It was a mere exchange ofglances, and little did I read in it the secret which was destined tohave so vast an effect on my own life, to give my whole career itscourse. It was no more than this: Catherine turned her glance, quickly, from De Noyard to Mlle. D'Arency, who had already been observing her. Mlle. D'Arency gave, in reply, an almost imperceptible smile ofunderstanding; then Catherine and Guise passed on. 

Two looks, enduring not a moment; yet, had I known what was behind them, my life would assuredly have run an entirely different course. 

The gentlemen of the Duke of Guise now joined Catherine's ladies at thefireplace. For a time, Mlle. D'Arency was thus lost to my sight; then thegroup opened, and I saw her resting her great eyes, smilingly, on theface of De Noyard, who was talking to her in a low tone, his gaze fixedupon her with an expression of wistful adoration. 

"The devil!" I muttered. "That man loves her. "

"My faith!" said De Rilly, "one would think he was treading on your toesin doing so; yet you do not even know her. "

"She is the woman I have chosen to be in love with, nevertheless, " Isaid. 

It seemed as if the Duke of Guise had come to the Louvre solely for aword with the Queen-mother, for now he took his departure, followed byhis suite, while Catherine went to her own apartments. As De Noyardpassed out, he saw me. His face showed that he recognized me, and that hewondered what I was doing in the palace. There was nothing of offence inhis look, only a slight curiosity. 

De Rilly now expressed an intention of going out to take the air, but Ipreferred to stay where I was; for Mile. D'Arency had remained in thegallery, with some other of Catherine's ladies. So the loquacious equerrywent without me. 

I formed a bold resolution. Quelling the trepidation that came with it, Istrode quickly over to Mlle. D'Arency, who still stood against thetapestry as if she had been a figure in it but had come to life andstepped out into the apartment. 

Her large eyes fell on me, and opened slightly wider, showing at oncerecognition and a not unpleasant surprise. I bowed very low, partly toconceal the flush that I felt mounting to my face. 

"Pardon me, Mile. D'Arency, " I said, in a voice as steady as I could makeit. Then I looked at her and saw her features assuming an expression ofsuch coldness and astonishment that for some time neither my tongue normy mind could continue the speech, nor could I move a step in retreat. All the while she kept her eyes upon me. 

I drew a deep breath at last, and said in desperation:

"Doubtless I ought not to address you, being unknown to you, but if youwill permit me, I will go and bring M. De Rilly, who will present me. "

Her face softened somewhat, and she looked amused. "You seem quite ableto present yourself, " she said. 

I was immensely relieved at this melting of the ice, just when I wasbeginning to feel that I was becoming a spectacle. 

"I am Ernanton de Launay, Sieur de la Tournoire, " I said, and to fill upthe embarrassing pause that followed, I added, "and, being a Huguenot, Iam a nobody in Paris, --in fact, a mere volunteer in the French Guards. "

"Well, Monsieur Guardsman, what do you wish to say to me?"

She was now in quite a pleasant, quizzical mood. 

"I trust you do not expect me to say it in one word, " I answered; andthen I lowered my voice, "or in a single interview. "

"It does not matter how many interviews it requires, if it isinteresting, " she answered nonchalantly. 

"Alas!" I said. "I fear it is a story which many others have told you. "

"An old story may seem new, when it comes from new lips. "

"And when it is new to the lips that tell it, as mine is. Actually, Ihave never before made a confession of love. "

"Am I to understand that you are about to make one now?"

"Have I not already made it?" I said. 

We now stood quite apart from all others in the gallery, unnoticed bythem; and our voices had fallen almost to a whisper. 

She smiled, as if refusing to take my words seriously. 

"If you have waited so long before making any confession of lovewhatever, " she said, "you have certainly made up for the delay by thespeed which you use in making your first. "

"On the contrary, I have had my confession ready for a long time, as mylove has existed for a long time. I waited only to meet its object, --thewoman of whom I had formed the ideal in my mind. "

She looked as if about to burst into a laugh; but she changed her mind, and regarded me with a look of inquiry, as if she would read my heart. The smile was still on her lips, yet she spoke gravely when she said:

"Monsieur, I cannot make you out. If you are as sincere as you areoriginal, --but I must go to the Queen-mother now. To-morrow afternoon, Ishall walk in the gardens of the Tuileries, if the weather is clear. "

"But one moment, I beg! M. De Noyard, --he is in love with you, is henot?"

Her face again took on its mocking look. "I have not asked him, " she saidlightly. Then she regarded me with a new and peculiar expression, as ifsome daring idea had come into her mind, some project which had to bemeditated upon before it might be safely breathed. 

"You look at me strangely, mademoiselle. "

"Oh, I merely wonder at your curiosity in regard to M. De Noyard. "

"My curiosity is not in regard to his feelings, but in regard to yours. "

"Monsieur, " she said, with a very captivating air of reproach, "have Inot told you that I shall walk in the gardens of the Tuileries to-morrowafternoon?"

And she glided away, leaving behind her the most delighted and conceitedyoung man, at that moment, in France. 

CHAPTER III. 

THE STRANGE REQUEST OF MLLE. D'ARENCY

I was disappointed in the interview that I had with Mlle. D'Arency inthe gardens of the Tuileries, the next day. I saw her for only a fewminutes, and then within sight of other of Catherine's ladies. AlthoughI lost nothing of the ground I had taken, neither did I gain anythingfurther. Afterward, at court receptions and _fêtes_, and, sometimes, inthe palace galleries, when she was off duty, I contrived to meet her. She neither gave me opportunities nor avoided me. All the progress thatI made was in the measure of my infatuation for her. When I begged for ameeting at which we might not be surrounded by half the court, shesmiled, and found some reason to prevent any such interview in the nearfuture. So, if I had carried things very far at our first meeting in theLouvre, I now paid for my exceptional fortune by my inability to carrythem a step further. 

Thus matters went for several days, during which the assertion of DeRilly was proven true, --that my duties as a member of the French Guardswould leave me some time for pleasure. Thanks to De Quelus, and to hisenemy, Bussy d'Amboise, I made acquaintances both in the King's followingand in that of the King's brother, the Duke of Anjou. De Rilly made meknown to many who belonged to neither camp, and were none the worse forthat. Our company lodged in the Faubourg St. Honore, but I led the lifeof a gentleman of pleasure, when off duty, and, as such, I had a privatelodging within the town, near the Louvre, more pretentious than thewhitewashed chamber in the Rue St. Denis. I drank often in cabarets, became something of a swaggerer, and something of a fop, --though neverdescending to the womanishness of the King's minions, --and did not allowmy great love affair, which I never mentioned save in terms of mystery, to hinder me from the enjoyment of lesser amours of transient duration. At this time everybody was talking of the feud between the King'sfavorites and the followers of the Duke of Anjou. The King's minionsopenly ridiculed Anjou for his ungainliness, which was all the greaterfor his look of settled discontent and resentment. His faithful andpugnacious Bussy retaliated by having his pages dress like the King'sminions, --with doublets of cloth of gold, stiff ruffs, and greatplumes, --and so attend him at the Twelfth Day _fêtes_. The minions, intheir turn, sought revenge on Bussy by attacking him, on the followingnight, while he was returning from the Louvre to his lodgings. He eludedthem, and the next morning he accused M. De Grammont of having led theambuscade. De Quelus then proposed that all the King's gentlemen shouldmeet all those of the Duke in a grand encounter to the death. The Duke'sfollowers gladly accepted the challenge. Three hundred men on each sidewould have fought, had not the King resolutely forbidden the duel. DeQuelus, that night, led a number of gentlemen in an attack on Bussy'slodgings. Bussy and his followers made a stout resistance, the tumultbecoming so great that the Marechal de Montmorency called out the ScotchGuard to clear the street in front of Bussy's house; and it was time. Several gentlemen and servants were lying in their blood; and some ofthese died of their wounds. 

It was openly known, about the court, that the Duke of Anjou held theKing to be privy to these attacks on Bussy, and was frightfully enragedthereby; and that the King, in constant fear of the Duke's departure tojoin the Huguenots, --which event would show the King's inability toprevent sedition even in the royal family, and would give the Guise partyanother pretext to complain of his incompetence, --would forcibly obstructthe Duke's going. 

It was this state of affairs that made Catherine de Medici again take upher abode in the Louvre, that she might be on the ground in the event ofa family outbreak, which was little less probable to occur at night thanin the daytime. She had lately lived part of the time in her new palaceof the Tuileries, and part of the time in her Hotel des Filles Repenties, holding her council in either of these places, and going to the Louvredaily for the signature of the King to the documents of her ownfabrication. At this time, Mlle. D'Arency was one of the ladies of theQueen-mother's bedchamber, and so slept in the Louvre. What should I bebut such a fool as, when off duty, to pass certain hours of the night ingazing up at the window of my lady's chamber, as if I were a lover in anItalian novel! Again I must beg you to remember that I was onlytwenty-one, and full of the most fantastic ideas. I had undertaken anepic love affair, and I would omit none of the picturesque details thatexample warranted. 

Going, one evening in February, to take up my post opposite the Louvre, Isuddenly encountered a gentleman attended by two valets with torches. Irecognized him as De Noyard, who had twice or thrice seen me about thepalaces, but had never spoken to me. I was therefore surprised when, onthis occasion, he stopped and said to me, in a low and polite tone:

"Monsieur, I have seen you, once or twice, talking with M. Bussyd'Amboise, and I believe that, if you are not one of his intimates, you, at least, wish him no harm. "

"You are right, monsieur, " I said, quite mystified. 

"I am no friend of his, " continued M. De Noyard, in his cold, dispassionate tone, "but he is a brave man, who fights openly, and, sofar, he is to be commended. I believe he will soon return from theTuileries, where he has been exercising one of the horses of the Duke ofAnjou. I have just come from there myself. On the way, I espied, withoutseeming to see them, a number of the gentlemen of the King waiting behindthe pillars of the house with a colonnade, near the Porte St. Honore. "

"One can guess what that means. "

"So I thought. As for me, I have more important matters in view thaninterfering with the quarrels of young hot-heads; but I think that thereis yet time for Bussy d'Amboise to be warned, before he starts to returnfrom the Tuileries. "

"M. De Noyard, I thank you, " I said, with a bow of genuine respect, andin a moment I was hastening along the Rue St. Honore. 

I understood, of course, the real reasons why De Noyard himself had notgone back to warn Bussy. Firstly, those in ambush would probably havenoticed his turning back, suspected his purpose, and taken means todefeat it. Secondly, he was a man from whom Bussy would have acceptedneither warning nor assistance; yet he was not pleased that any brave manshould be taken by surprise, and he gave me credit for a similar feeling. I could not but like him, despite my hidden suspicion that there wassomething between Mlle. D'Arency and him. 

I approached the house with the colonnade, feigning carelessness, as if Iwere returning to my military quarters in the faubourg. The Porte St. Honore was still open, although the time set for its closing was past. 

Suddenly a mounted figure appeared in the gateway, which, notwithstandingthe dusk, I knew, by the way the rider sat his horse, to be that ofBussy. I was too late to warn him; I could only give my aid. 

Three figures rushed out from beneath the supported upper story of thehouse, and made for Bussy with drawn swords. With a loud oath he reinedback his horse on its haunches, and drew his own weapon, with which heswept aside the two points presented at him from the left. One of thethree assailants had planted himself in front of the horse, to catch itsbridle, but saw himself now threatened by Bussy's sword, which moved withthe swiftness of lightning. This man thereupon fell back, but stood readyto obstruct the forward movement of the horse, while one of the othertwo ran around to Bussy's right, so that the rider might be attacked, simultaneously on both sides. 

This much I had time to see before drawing my sword and running up toattack the man on the horseman's left, whom I suddenly recognized as DeQuelus. At the same instant I had a vague impression of a fourthswordsman rushing out from the colonnade, and, before I could attain myobject, I felt a heavy blow at the base of my skull, which seemedalmost to separate my head from my neck, and I fell forward, intodarkness and oblivion. 

I suppose that the man, running to intercept me, had found a thrust lesspracticable than a blow with the hilt of a dagger. 

When I again knew that I was alive, I turned over and sat up. Severalmen--bourgeois, vagabonds, menials, and such--were standing around, looking down at me and talking of the affray. I looked for Bussy and DeQuelus, but did not see either. At a little distance away was anothergroup, and people walked from that group to mine, and _vice versa. _

"Where is M. Bussy?" I asked. 

"Oho, this one is all right!" cried one, who might have been a clerk or astudent; "he asks questions. You wish to know about Bussy, eh? You oughtto have seen him gallop from the field without a scratch, while hisenemies pulled themselves together and took to their heels. "

"What is that, over there?" I inquired, rising to my feet, anddiscovering that I was not badly hurt. 

"A dead man who was as much alive as any of us before he ran to help M. Bussy. It is always the outside man who gets the worst of it, merely fortrying to be useful. There come the soldiers of the watch, after thefight is over. "

I walked over to the other group and knelt by the body on the ground. Itwas that of a gentleman whom I had sometimes seen in Bussy's company. Hewas indeed dead. The blood was already thickening about the hole that asword had made in his doublet. 

The next day the whole court was talking of the wrath of the Duke ofAnjou at this assault upon his first gentleman-in-waiting. I was ashamedof having profited by the influence of De Quelus, who, I found, had notrecognized me on the previous evening. Anjou's rage continued deep. Heshowed it by absenting himself from the wedding of Saint-Luc, one of DeQuelus's companions in the King's favor and in the attack on Bussy. Catherine, knowing how the King's authority was weakened by the squabblesbetween him and his brother, took the Duke out to Vincennes for a walk inthe park and a dinner at the château, that his temper might cool. Shepersuaded him to show a conciliatory spirit and attend the marriage ballto be held that night in the great hall of the Louvre. This was more thanshe could persuade Marguerite to do, who accompanied mother and son toVincennes, sharing the feelings of the Duke for three reasons, --her lovefor him, her hatred for her brother, the King, and her friendship forBussy d'Amboise. It would have been well had the Duke been, like hissister, proof against his mother's persuasion. For, when he arrived atthe ball, he was received by the King's gentlemen with derisive looks, and one of them, smiling insolently in the Duke's piggish, pockmarkedface, said, "Doubtless you have come so late because the night is mostfavorable to your appearance. "

Suppose yourself in the Duke's place, and imagine his resentment. Heturned white and left the ball. Catherine must have had to use her utmostpowers to keep peace in the royal family the next day. 

On the second morning after the ball, I heard, from De Rilly, that theKing had put his brother under arrest, and kept him guarded in the Duke'sown apartment, lest he should leave Paris and lead the rebellion whichthe King had to fear, not only on its own account, but because of thefurther disrepute into which it would bring him with his people. TheKing, doubtless, soon saw, or was made to see, that this conduct towardshis brother--who had many supporters in France and was then affianced toQueen Elizabeth of England--would earn only condemnation; for, on the dayafter the arrest, he caused the court to assemble in Catherine'sapartments, and there De Quelus went ironically through the form of anapology to the Duke, and a reconciliation with Bussy. The exaggeratedembrace which Bussy gave De Quelus made everybody laugh, and showed thatthis peace-making was not to be taken seriously. Soon after it, Bussyd'Amboise and several of his followers left Paris. 

The next thing I saw, which had bearing on the difference between theKing and Monsieur his brother, was the procession of penitents in whichMonsieur accompanied the King through the streets, after the hollowreconciliation. I could scarcely convince myself that thesanctimonious-looking person, in coarse penitential robe, heading theprocession through the mire and over the stones of Paris, from shrine toshrine, was the dainty King whom I had beheld in sumptuous raiment in thegallery of the Louvre. The Duke of Anjou, who wore ordinary attire, seemed to take to this mummery like a bear, ready to growl at any moment. His demeanor was all that the King's gentlemen could have needed as asubject for their quips and jokes. 

Two evenings after this, I was drinking in the public room of an inn, near my lodgings in the town, when a young gentleman named Malerain, who, though not a Scot, was yet one of the Scotch bodyguard, sat down at mytable to share a bottle with me. 

"More amusement at the palace, " he said to me. "To think that, any one ofthese nights, I may be compelled to use force against the person of theKing's brother, and that some day he may be King! I wonder if he willthen bear malice?"

"What is the new trouble at the Louvre?" I asked. 

"It is only the old trouble. Monsieur has been muttering again, Isuppose, and this, with the fact that Bussy d'Amboise keeps so quietoutside of Paris, has led the King to fear that Monsieur has planned toescape to the country. At least, it has been ordered that every member ofthe Duke's household, who does not have to attend at his retiring, mustleave the palace at night; and Messieurs de l'Archant, De Losses, and theother captains, have received orders from the King that, if Monsieurattempts to go out after dark, he must be stopped. Suppose it becomes myduty to stop him? That will be pleasant, will it not? To make it worse, Iam devoted to a certain damsel who is devoted to Queen Marguerite, who isdevoted to Monsieur, her brother. And here I am inviting misfortune, too, by drinking wine on the first Friday in Lent. I ought to havefollowed the example of the King, who has been doing penance all day inthe chapel of the Hôtel de Bourbon. "

"Let us hope that the King will be rewarded for his penance by thesubmission of Monsieur. I, for one, hope that if Monsieur attempts to getaway, he will run across some Scotchman of the Guard who will not scrupleto impede a prince of France. For if he should lead a Huguenot armyagainst the King, I, as one of the Guards, might be called on to opposemy fellow-Protestants. "

"Oh, the Duke does not wish to join the Huguenots. All he desires is togo to the Netherlands, where a throne awaits him if he will do a littlefighting for it. "

"I fear he would rather revenge himself on the King for what he has hadto endure at court. "

Presently Malerain left to go on duty at the Louvre, and soon I followed, to take up my station in sight of the window where Mlle. D'Arency slept. The night, which had set in, was very dark, and gusts of cold wind cameup from the Seine. The place where, in my infatuation and affectation, Ikept my lover's watch, was quite deserted. The Louvre loomed up giganticbefore me, the lights gleaming feebly in a few of its many windows, serving less to relieve its sombre aspect than to suggest unknown, and, perhaps, sinister doings within. 

I laugh at myself now for having maintained those vigils by night beneatha court lady's window; but you will presently see that, but for thisboyish folly, my body would have been sleeping in its grave these manyyears past, and I should have never come to my greatest happiness. 

Suddenly my attention was attracted to another window than that on whichI had fixed my gaze. This other window appertained to the apartments ofthe King's sister, Queen Marguerite, and what caused me to transfer myattention to it was the noise of its being opened. Then a head was thrustout of it, --the small and graceful head of Marguerite herself. She lookeddown at the moat beneath, and in either direction, and apparently saw noone, I being quite in shadow; then she drew her head in. 

Immediately a rope was let down into the moat, whose dry bed was aboutfive times a tall man's length below the window, which was on the secondstory. Out of the window came a man of rather squat figure, who lethimself boldly and easily down the rope. As soon as he had reached thebed of the moat, he was followed out of the window and down the rope by asecond man, who came bunglingly, as if in great trepidation. This person, in his haste, let go the rope before he was quite down, but landed onhis feet. Then a third figure came out from the chamber and down thecable, whereupon Marguerite's head again appeared in the opening, and Icould see the heads of two waiting-women behind her. But the Queen ofNavarre manifestly had no intention of following the three men. These nowclambered up the side of the moat, and the one who had been first downturned and waved her a silent adieu, which she returned with a gracefulgesture of her partly bare arm. The three men then rapidly plunged intoone of the abutting streets and were gone. All this time I stood inactiveand unobserved. 

Marguerite remained at the window to cast another look around. Suddenly, from out the darkness at the base of the Louvre, as if risen from thevery earth at the bottom of the moat, sprang the figure of a man, whostarted toward the guard-house as if his life depended on his speed. Marguerite drew her head in at once with a movement of great alarm. Aninstant later the rope was drawn up and the window closed. 

Two conjectures came into my head, one after the other, each in a flash. The one was that Marguerite had availed herself of the fraternal quarrelthat occupied the King's attention to plan an escape to her husband, KingHenri of Navarre, and that these three men had gone from a consultationin her apartments to further the project. The other conjecture was thatthey were but some of Monsieur's followers who had transgressed the newrule, requiring their departure from the palace at nightfall, and hadtaken this means of leaving to avoid discovery. If the former conjectureembodied the truth, my sympathies were with the plot; for it littlepleased me that the wife of our Huguenot leader should remain at theFrench court, a constant subject of scandalous gossip. If the secondguess was correct, I was glad of an opportunity to avert, even slight, trouble from the wilful but charming head of Marguerite. In either case, I might serve a beautiful woman, a queen, the wife of a Huguenot king. Certainly, if that man, paid spy or accidental interloper, should reachthe guard-house with information that three men had left the Louvre bystealth, the three men might be overtaken and imprisoned, and greatannoyance brought to Marguerite. All this occupied my mind but aninstant. Before the man had taken ten steps, I was after him. 

He heard me coming, looked around, saw my hand already upon mysword-hilt, and shouted, "The guard! Help!" I saw that, to avoid adisclosure, I must silence him speedily; yet I dared not kill him, for hemight be somebody whose dead body found so near the palace would lead toendless investigations, and in the end involve Marguerite, for supposethat the King had set him to watch her? Therefore I called to him, "Stopand face me, or I will split you as we run!"

The man turned at once, as if already feeling my sword-point entering hisback. Seeing that I had not even drawn that weapon, he, himself, drew adagger and raised it to strike. But I was too quick and too long of armfor him. With my gloved fist I gave him a straight blow on the side ofthe chin, and he dropped like a felled tree, at the very moat's edge, over which I rolled him that he might recover in safety from the effectsof the shock. 

I knew that, when he should awake, he would not dare inform the guard, for the three men would then be far away, and he would have no evidenceto support his story. He would only put himself in danger of havingfabricated a false accusation against the King's sister. 

I deemed it best to go from the vicinity of the Louvre at once, and I didso, with a last wistful look at the windows behind which Mlle. D'Arencymight or might not be reposing. I did not reappear there until the nextmorning. The first person I then met was Malerain, who was coming fromthe church of St. Germain l'Auxerrois, where he had been making up forprevious neglect of devotions. 

"Well, " I said, as I stood before him, and twisted my up-shootingmustaches, in unconscious imitation of him, "I trust you found yourquarter on duty last night an easy one. You must thank me for saving yousome labor. "

"What do you mean?" he asked, with a look of sudden interest. 

"Nothing, only that you might have been called on to give chase to someflying bird or other, if I had not knocked down a rascal who was runningto inform the guard. "

"And you saw the bird fly?" he said, with increasing astonishment. 

"From an opening in that great cage, " I replied, looking towardsthe Louvre. 

"Then I, for myself, am glad you knocked down the said rascal who wouldhave made falçons of us to bring the bird down. But be more cautious. Suppose what you did should reach the ears of the King?"

"Why should the King concern himself?"

"Monsieur, is it possible that you don't know that the bird that flewfrom the Louvre last night was the Duke of Anjou?"

It was now my turn to stare in astonishment. 

"But, " I said, "what use for him to leave the palace? There would be thegates of Paris to pass. "

"There is more than one way to cross the fortifications of Paris, especially when one has such an ally as Bussy d'Amboise, free, to arrangematters. Monsieur is at this moment certainly on his way to somestronghold of his own. The King is mad with rage. Queen Marguerite islooking innocent and astonished, but I'll wager she had a hand in thisevasion. My friend, I am under obligations to you!"

"How?"

"Why, since Queen Marguerite undoubtedly rejoices at her favoritebrother's escape, and you helped to make it good, she owes you gratitude. So do all her maids, who, naturally, share in her feelings and benefit byher joy. Now, that gratitude extends of course to your friends, of whom Iam one. Therefore a good turn is due me from one of those maids inparticular, and for that I am obliged to you!"

I laughed at this fantastic extension of a debt of gratitude. "Doubtless, " I said; "but since neither Marguerite nor the maid knowsanything about my share in the matter, I don't see how you are going tocollect the debt. "

Malerain said nothing, but there was already that in his mind which, absurd as it might seem at that time, was to save me when death shouldrise threateningly about me on every side. It is a world in which muchcomes from little. 

I was somewhat agitated at realizing that I had been the means of aidingan escape which might result in opposing the troops of the King to thoseof certain Huguenot leaders; but this thought was suddenly driven from mymind by a sight which caused me to leave Malerain abruptly, and make forone of the streets that led from the Louvre to the midst of the town. 

It was Mlle. D'Arency, mounted on a plumed horse, with tassellatedtrappings, which was led by a young equerry who wore Catherine's colors, and followed by two mounted lackeys in similar livery. Beside her rodethe stout, elderly woman who usually attended her. Mlle. D'Arency wore amask of black velvet, but that could not conceal her identity from eyesto which every line of her pretty head, every motion of her gracefulperson, had become familiar in actual contemplation and in dreams. Hercloak and gown were, alike, of embroidered velvet of the color of redwine, as was the velvet toque which sat perched on her dark brown hair. 

I followed her at some distance, resolved to find an opportunity for aseemingly accidental meeting. I supposed that she was going to visit someof the shops, --perhaps for the Queen-mother, perhaps for herself. 

She led me on and on, until I began to wonder what could be herdestination. She avoided the streets of fine shops, such as werepatronized by the court, skirted market-places, and continued, in ageneral easterly direction, until she had crossed both the Rue St. Denisand the Rue St. Martin. At last, turning out of the Rue St. Antoine, shereached, by a little street lined with bakeries, a quiet square before asmall church, of which I never even learned the name. She and the stoutwoman dismounted, and entered the church, leaving her male attendantsoutside with the horse. 

"Oho, " I mused, stopping at the door of a pastry-cook's at the placewhere the little street joined the square; "she chooses an obscure placefor her devotions. Evidently she prefers to mingle solitude with them, soI must not disturb her. "

I decided, therefore, to wait at the pastry-cook's till she should comeout, and then to encounter her as if by chance. I would have, at least, aword in payment for having come so far afoot. 

The pastry-cook must have been convinced of two things before Mlle. D'Arency came out of church: first, that his fortune was made if this newcustomer, myself, should only continue to patronize him; second, thatthere existed, at least, one human stomach able to withstand unlimitedquantities of his wares. 

I stood back in the shop, devouring one doughy invention after another, with my ear alert for the sound of her horse's hoofs on the stones. Atlast it occurred to me that she might have left the square by some otherstreet. I made for the door of the shop to look. As I did so, a manrapidly passed the shop, going from the square towards the Rue St. Antoine. Was not that figure known to me? I hastened to the street. Myfirst glance was towards the church. There stood her horse, and her threeattendants were walking up and down in the sunlight. Then I looked afterthe man; I thought that the figure looked like that of De Noyard. 

He disappeared into the Rue St. Antoine, having given me no opportunityto see his face. I would have followed, to make sure, roused into anintolerable jealousy at the idea of a secret meeting between Mlle. D'Arency and him, but that I now heard the full melodious voice of thelady herself. Looking around, I saw her on the steps of the church, withher middle-aged companion. At that instant her eyes met mine. 

I advanced, with an exaggerated bow, sweeping the stones of the streetwith the plumes of my hat. 

"So it is true!" I said, making no effort to control my agitation, andrestraining my voice only that the lackeys might not hear; "you lovethat man!"

She looked at me steadily for a moment, and then said, "Do you mean M. De Noyard?"

"Ah, you admit it!"

"I admit nothing. But if I did love him, what right would you have tocall me to account?"

"The right of a man who adores you, mademoiselle. "

"That is no right at all. A man's right concerning a woman must bederived from her own actions. But come inside the church, monsieur. "

She made a gesture to her attendants, and reentered the church. Ifollowed her. We stood together before the font in the dim light. 

"And now, " she continued, facing me, "suppose I grant that I have soacted as to give you a right to question me; what then? Is it my faultthat you have followed me this morning? Is it, then, any more my faultthat I have been followed, also, by M. De Noyard?"

"But he must have been here before you. "

"What does that prove? A score of people in the Louvre knew yesterdaythat I was coming to this church to-day. "

"But so deserted a church, --so out of the way! Who would come here fromthe Louvre but for a tryst?"

She smiled, indulgently. "Can a thing have no cause except the obviousone?" she said. "I visit this church once every month, because, obscurethough it be, it is associated with certain events in the history of myancestors. "

"But, " I went on, though beginning to feel relieved, "if M. De Noyard wasthrusting his presence on you, why did he leave before you did?"

"Probably because he knew that I would not leave the church while heremained to press his company upon me outside. "

The low tones that we had to use, on account of our surroundings, gaveour conversation an air of confidence and secrecy that was delicious tome; and now her voice fell even lower, when she added:

"I take the pains to explain these things to you, monsieur, because I donot wish you to think that I have intrigues;" and she regarded me fixedlywith her large gray eyes, which in the dimness of the place were darkerand more lustrous than usual. 

Delightfully thrilled at this, I made to take her hand and stoop to kissit, but stopped for a last doubt. 

"Mademoiselle, " I said, "I think you only the most adorable woman in theworld. But there is one thing which has cost me many a sleepless hour, many a jealous surmise. If I could be reassured as to the nature of yourerrand that night when I first saw you--"

"Oh!" she laughed, "I was coming from an astrologer's. "

"But you were not coming from the direction of Ruggieri's house. "

"There are many astrologers in Paris, besides Ruggieri. Although theQueen-mother relies implicitly on him, one may sometimes get a morepleasing prediction from another; or, another may be clear on a point onwhich he is vague. "

"But the hour--"

"I took the time when I was not on duty, and he kept me late. It was fora friend that I visited the astrologer, --a friend who was required in thepalace all that evening. The astrologer had to be consulted that night, as my friend wished to be guided in a course that she would have to takethe next morning. Now, Monsieur Curiosity, are you satisfied?"

This time I took her hand and pressed my lips upon it. 

She was silent for a moment, noting the look of admiration on my face. Then, quickly, and in little more than a whisper, she said:

"I have answered your questions, though not admitting your right to askthem. Would you know how to gain that right?"

"Tell me!" I said, my heart beating rapidly with elation. 

"Challenge M. De Noyard, and kill him!"

I stared in astonishment. 

"Now you may know whether or not I love him, " she added. 

"But, mademoiselle, --why--"

"Ah, that is the one thing about which I must always refuse to bequestioned! I ask you this service. Will you grant it?"

"If he has given you offence, " I said, "certainly I will seek him atonce. "

"Not a word of me is to be said between you! He must not know that I havespoken to you. "

"But a man is not to be killed without reason. "

"A pretext is easily invented. "

"Certainly, --a pretext to hide the cause of a quarrel from the world. Butthe real cause ought to be known to both antagonists. "

"I shall not discuss what ought or ought not to be. I ask you, will youfight this man and try to kill him? I request nothing unusual, --men arekilled every day in duels. You are a good swordsman; Bussy d'Amboisehimself has said so. Come! will you do this?" She looked up at me with aslight frown of repressed petulance. 

"If you will assure me that he has affronted you, and permit me to lethim know, privately, the cause of my quarrel. "

"Oh!" she exclaimed, with irritation, "must a lady give a hundred reasonswhen she requests a service of a gentleman?"

"One sufficient reason, when it is a service like this. "

"Well, I shall give none. I desire his death, --few gentlemen would ask afurther reason. "

"I had not thought you so cruel, mademoiselle, as to desire the deathof any man. "

"God forbid that I should desire the death of any other man! So, monsieur, I must understand that you refuse to serve me in this?"

Her contemptuous look made me sigh. "Can you not see, mademoiselle, thatto resolve deliberately and secretly on a man's death, and withpremeditation to create a pretext for a challenge, is little better thanassassination?"

"A fine excuse to avoid risking your life!"

Again I had to endure a look of profound scorn from her. 

"Mademoiselle, " I replied, patiently, "I would that you might see howready I am to fight when an affront is given me or some one needs adefender. "

"Oh!" she said, with an ironical smile. "Then to show yourself a lionagainst De Noyard, you require only that he shall affront you, or thatsome one shall need a defender against him! Suppose that _I_ should everbe in such need?"

"You know that in your defence I would fight an army. "

Her smile now lost its irony, and she assumed a look of conciliation, which I was both surprised and rejoiced to behold. 

"Well, monsieur, it is pleasant to know that, if you will not take theoffensive for me, you will, at least, act readily on the defensive ifthe occasion comes. "

Much relieved at the turn the conversation had taken, I now undertook tocontinue it to my advantage. After some bantering, maintained with gaietyon her part, she said that she must return to the Louvre. Then, as shewould not have me accompany her in the streets, I begged her to appointanother meeting. She evaded my petition at first, but, when I took herhand and refused to release it until she should grant my request, shesaid, after a little submissive shrug of her shoulders:

"Very well. Follow me, at a distance, from this church, and observe ahouse before which I shall stop for a moment as if to adjust my cloak. Itis a house that has been taken by a friend of mine, one of theQueen-mother's ladies. I shall be there tomorrow afternoon. "

"Alas! To-morrow I shall be on duty till six in the evening. "

"Then come at seven. Knock three times on the street door. " And with thatshe slipped her hand from mine, and hastened lightly out of the church. Istood alone by the font, delighted and bewildered. There was so much tomystify me that I did not even search my mind for explanations. I thoughtmy happiness about to be attained, and left it for the future toexplain, --as it did!

CHAPTER IV. 

HOW LA TOURNOIRE WAS ENLIGHTENED IN THE DARK

It was already dark when I started, on the evening appointed, for thehouse indicated by Mlle. D'Arency. I went without attendance, as was mycustom, relying on my sword, my alertness of eye, and my nimbleness offoot. I had engaged a lackey, for whose honesty De Rilly had vouched, buthe was now absent on a journey to La Tournoire, whither I had sent himwith a message to my old steward. I have often wondered at the goodfortune which preserved me from being waylaid, by thieving rascals, on myperegrinations, by night, through Paris streets. About this very timeseveral gentlemen, who went well attended, were set upon and robbedalmost within sight of the quarters of the provost's watch; and some ofthese lost their lives as well as the goods upon their persons. Yet Iwent fearlessly, and was never even threatened with attack. 

On the way to the house, I reviewed, for the hundredth time, theconversation in the church. There were different conjectures to be made. Mlle. D'Arency may have made that surprising request merely to convinceme that she did not love De Noyard, and intending, subsequently, towithdraw it; or it may have sprung from a caprice, a desire to ascertainhow far I was at her bidding, --women have, thoughtlessly, set men suchtasks from mere vanity, lacking the sympathy to feel how precious to itsowner is any human life other than their own;--or she may have had somesubstantial reason to desire his death, something to gain by it, something to lose through his continuing to live. Perhaps she hadencouraged his love and had given him a promise from which his deathwould be the means of release easiest to her, --for women will, sometimes, to secure the smallest immunity for themselves, allow the greatestcalamities to others. This arises less from an active cruelty than from alack of imagination, an inability to suppose themselves in the places ofothers. I soon felt the uselessness of searching, in my own mind, for themotive of Mlle. D'Arency's desire, or pretence of desire, for the deathof De Noyard. What had passed between them I could not guess. So, afterthe manner of youth, I gave up the question, satisfied with knowing thatI had before me an interview with a charming woman, and willing to waitfor disclosures until events should offer them. 

The street in which the house was situated was entirely dark anddeserted when I stepped into it. The house was wider than its neighbors, and each of its upper stories had two chambers overlooking the street. Atthe window of one of these chambers, on the second story, a light shone. It was the only light visible in any of the houses, all of which frowneddown menacingly; and hence it was like a beacon, a promise of cheer andwarmth in the midst of this black, cold Paris. 

I knocked three times on the street door, as she had directed me. Presently the wicket at the side of the door was opened, and a light washeld up to it, that my face might be seen by a pair of eyes that peeredout through the aperture. A moment later the bolts of the door weredrawn, and I was let in by the possessor of the eyes. This was theelderly woman who always attended Mlle. D'Arency when the latter wasabroad from the palace. She had invariably shown complete indifference tome, not appearing aware of my existence, and this time she said only:

"This way, monsieur. "

Protecting the flame of her lamp with her hand, she led me forward to anarrow staircase and we ascended, stopping at a landing on which openedthe second story chamber whose street window had shone with light. Shegave three knocks at the door of this chamber. At the last knock, herlamp went out. 

"Curse the wind!" she muttered. 

So I stood with her, on the landing, in darkness, expecting the door infront of me to open, immediately, and admit me to the lighted chamber. 

Suddenly I heard a piercing scream from within the chamber. It was thevoice of Mlle. D'Arency. 

"Help! Help!" she cried. "My God, he will kill me!"

This was followed by one long series of screams, and I could hear herrunning about the chamber as though she were fleeing from a pursuer. 

I stood for an instant, startled. 

"Good God!" cried the old woman at my elbow. "An assassin! Her enemieshave planned it! Monsieur, save her life!"

And the dame began pounding on the door, as if to break into the room toassist her mistress. 

I needed no more than this example. Discovering that the door waslocked on the inside, and assuming that Mlle. D'Arency, in the flightwhich she maintained around the room, could not get an opportunity todraw the bolt, I threw my weight forward, and sent the door flying openon its hinges. 

To my astonishment, the chamber was in complete darkness. Mlle. D'Arencyhad doubtless knocked the light over in her movements around the room. 

She was still screaming at the top of her voice, and running from oneside to another. The whiteness of the robe she wore made it possible todescry her in the absence of light. 

I stood for a second, just inside the threshold, and drew my sword. Atfirst, I could not see by whom or what she was threatened; but I heardheavy footsteps, as of some one following her in her wild course aboutthe place. Then I made out, vaguely, the figure of a man. 

"Fear not, mademoiselle!" I cried. 

"Oh, monsieur!" she screamed. "Save me! Save my life!"

I thrust my sword at the figure of the man. An ejaculation of pain toldme that it touched flesh. A second later, I heard a sword slide from itsscabbard, and felt the wind of a wild thrust in my direction. 

At this moment, Mlle d'Arency appeared between me and the street windowof the room. There was enough light from the sky to enable her head andshoulders to stand out darkly against the space of the window. Her headwas moving with the violent coming and going of her breath, and hershoulders were drawn up in an attitude of the greatest fright. Is it anywonder that I did not stop to ascertain who or what her assailant mightbe, or how he had come there? I could make out only that the man in thedarkness was a large and heavy one, and wielded a swift blade. All otherthoughts were lost in the immediate necessity of dealing with him. Theextreme terror that she showed gave me a sense of his being a formidableantagonist; the prompt response that he had given to my own thrust showedthat he was not to be quelled by a mere command. In fine, there wasnothing to do but fight him as best I could in the blackness; and I wasglad for so early an opportunity to show Mlle. D'Arency how ready I wasto do battle for her when I found her threatened with danger. 

From the absence of any sound or other demonstration, except what wasmade by Mlle. D'Arency and the man and myself, I knew that we three werethe only ones in the room. The elderly woman had not entered with me, --afact whose strangeness, in view of the great desire she had first evincedto reach her mistress's side, did not occur to me until afterward. 

I made another thrust at the man, but, despite the darkness, he parriedit with his sword; and a quick backward step was all that saved me fromhis prompt reply. Angered at having to give ground in the presence of thelady, I now attacked in turn, somewhat recklessly, but with such goodluck as to drive him back almost to the window. Mlle. D'Arency gaveanother terrified scream when he came near her, and she ran past metowards the door of the apartment. Both my antagonist and myself werenow beginning to have a clearer impression of each other's outlines, andthere was sharp sword-work between us by the window. As we stood there, breathing rapidly with our exertion and excitement, I heard the doorclose through which I had entered. I knew from this that Mlle. D'Arencyhad left the chamber, and I was glad that she was out of danger. It wasnatural that she should close the door, instinct impelling her to put anypossible barrier between her assailant and herself. 

The man and myself were alone together to maintain the fight which, having once entered, and being roused to the mood of contest, I had nothought of discontinuing now that Mlle. D'Arency was out of immediatedanger. It had reached a place at which it could be terminated only bythe disarming, the death, or the disabling of one of us. 

I gradually acquired the power of knowing all my opponent's movements, despite the darkness. I supposed that he was equipped with dagger as wellas with sword, but as he made no move to draw the shorter weapon, I didnot have recourse to mine. Though I would not take an advantage over him, even in the circumstances, yet I was not willing to be at a disadvantage. Therefore, as he was not encumbered with cloak or mantle, I employed abreathing moment to tear off my own cloak and throw it aside, notchoosing to use it on my left arm as a shield unless he had beensimilarly guarded. 

So we lunged and parried in the darkness, making no sound but by ourheavy breathing and an occasional ejaculation and the tramping of ourfeet, the knocking of our bodies against unseen pieces of furniture, andthe clashing of our blades when they met. Each of us fenced cautiously attimes, and at times took chances recklessly. 

Finally, in falling back, he came to a sudden stop against a table, andthe collision disturbed for an instant his control over his body. In thatinstant I felt a soft resistance encounter my sword and yield to it. Atonce, with a feeling of revulsion, I drew my sword out of the casing thathis flesh had provided, and stood back. Something wet and warm sprinkledmy face. The man gave a low moan and staggered sideways over towards thewindow. Then he plunged forward on his face. I stooped beside him andturned him over on his back, wetting my gloves with the blood that gushedfrom his wound and soaked his doublet. At that moment a splash ofmoonlight appeared on the floor, taking the shape of the window. His headand shoulders lay in this illumined space. I sprang back in horror, crying out his name:

"De Noyard! My God, it is you!"

"Yes, monsieur, " he gasped, "it is De Noyard. I have been trapped. Iought to have suspected. "

"But I do not understand, monsieur. Surely you could not have attackedMlle, d'Arency?"

"Attacked her! I came here by her appointment!"

"But her cry for help?"

"It took me by complete surprise. There was a knock on the door--"

"Yes, --mine. I, too, came by her appointment!"

"Mademoiselle instantly put out the light and began to scream. I thoughtthat the knock frightened her; then that she was mad. I followed to calmher. You entered; you know the rest. "

"But what does it mean?"

"Can you not see?" he said, with growing faintness. "We have beentricked, --I, by her pretense of love and by this appointment, to mydeath; you, by a similar appointment and her screams, to make yourself myslayer. I ought to have known! she belongs to Catherine, to theQueen-mother. Alas, monsieur! easily fooled is he who loves a woman!"

Then I remembered what De Rilly had told me, --that De Noyard's counselsto the Duke of Guise were an obstacle to Catherine's design ofconciliating that powerful leader, who aspired to the throne on which herson was seated. 

"No, no, monsieur!" I cried, unwilling to admit Mlle. D'Arency capableof such a trick, or myself capable of being so duped. "It cannot bethat; if they had desired your death, they would have hired assassins towaylay you. "

Yet I knew that he was right. The strange request that Mlle. D'Arency hadmade of me in the church was now explained. 

A kind of smile appeared, for a moment, on De Noyard's face, strugglingwith his expression of weakness and pain. 

"Who would go to the expense of hiring assassins, " he said, "when honestgentlemen can be tricked into doing the work for nothing? Moreover, whenyou hire assassins, you take the risk of their selling your secret to theenemy. They are apt to leave traces, too, and the secret instigator of adeed may defeat its object by being found out. "

"Then I have to thank God that you are not dead. You will recover, monsieur. "

"I fear not, my son. I do not know how much blood I lose at every word Ispeak. _Parbleu_! you have the art of making a mighty hole with that toyof yours, monsieur!"

This man, so grave and severe in the usual affairs of life, could take ona tone of pleasantry while enduring pain and facing death. 

"Monsieur, " I cried, in great distress, "you must not die. I will saveyou. I shall go for a surgeon. Oh, my God, monsieur, tell me what to doto save your life!"

"You will find my lackeys, two of them, at the cabaret at the nextcorner. It is closed, but knock hard and call for Jacques. Send him tome, and the other for a surgeon. "

De Noyard was manifestly growing weaker, and he spoke with greatdifficulty. Not daring to trust to any knowledge of my own as toimmediate or temporary treatment of his wound, I made the greatest hasteto follow his directions. I ran out of the chamber, down the stairs, andout to the street, finding the doors neither locked nor barred, andmeeting no human being. Mlle. D'Arency and her companion had silentlydisappeared. 

I went, in my excitement, first to the wrong corner. Then, discovering myblunder, I retraced my steps, and at last secured admittance to the placewhere De Noyard's valets tarried. 

To the man who opened the door, I said, "Are you Jacques, the serving-manof Monsieur de Noyard?"

"I am nobody's serving man, " was the reply, in a tone of indignation; buta second man who had come to the door spoke up, "I am Jacques. "

"Hallo, Monsieur de la Tournoire, " came a voice from a group of menseated at a table. "Come and join us, and show my friends how youfellows of the French Guards can drink!"

It was De Rilly, very merry with wine. 

"I cannot, De Rilly, " I replied, stepping into the place. "I have veryimportant business elsewhere. " Then I turned to Jacques and said, quietly, "Go, at once, to your master, and send your comrade for asurgeon to follow you there. Do you know the house in which he is?"

The servant made no answer, but turned pale. "Come!" he said to anotherservant, who had joined him from an obscure corner of the place. The twoimmediately lighted torches and left, from which fact I inferred thatJacques knew where to find his master. 

"What is all this mystery?" cried De Rilly, jovially, rising and comingover to me, while the man who had opened the door, and who was evidentlythe host, closed it and moved away. "Come, warm yourself with a bottle!Why, my friend, you are as white as a ghost, and you look as if you hadbeen perspiring blood!"

"I must go, at once, De Rilly. It is a serious matter. "

"Then hang me if I don't come, too!" he said, suddenly sobered, and hegrasped his cloak and sword. "That is, unless I should be _de trop_. "

"Come. I thank you, " I said; and we left the place together. 

"Whose blood is it?" asked De Rilly, as we hurried along the narrowstreet, back to the house. 

"That of M. De Noyard. "

"What? A duel?"

"A kind of duel, --a strange mistake!

"The devil! Won't the Queen-mother give thanks! And won't the Duke ofGuise be angry!"

"M. De Noyard is not dead yet. His wound may not be fatal. "

I led the way into the house and up the steps to the apartment. It wasnow lighted up by the torch which Jacques had brought. De Noyard wasstill lying in the position in which he had been when I left him. Theservant stood beside him, looking down at his face, and holding the torchso as to light up the features. 

"How do you feel now, monsieur?" I asked, hastening forward. 

There was no answer. The servant raised his eyes to me, and said, in atone of unnatural calmness, "Do you not see that he is dead, M. De laTournoire?"

Horror-stricken, I knelt beside the body. The heart no longer beat; theface was still, --the eyes stared between unquivering lids, in the lightof the torch. 

"Oh, my God! I have killed him!" I murmured. 

"Come away. You can do nothing here, " said De Rilly, quietly. He caughtme by the shoulder, and led me out of the room. 

"Let us leave this neighborhood as soon as possible, " he said, as wedescended the stairs. "It is most unfortunate that the valet knows yourname. He heard me speak it at the tavern, and he will certainly recallalso that I hailed you as one of the French Guards. "

"Why is that unfortunate?" I asked, still deprived of thought by thehorror of having killed so honorable a gentleman, who had not harmed me. 

"Because he can let the Duke of Guise know exactly on whom to seekvengeance for the death of De Noyard. "

"The Duke of Guise will seek vengeance?" I asked, mechanically, as weemerged from that fatal house, and turned our backs upon it. 

"Assuredly. He will demand your immediate punishment. You must bespeakthe King's pardon as soon as possible. That is necessary, to protectoneself, when one has killed one's antagonist in a duel. The edicts stillforbid duels, and one may be made to pay for a victory with one's life, if the victim's friends demand the enforcement of the law, --as in thiscase the Duke of Guise surely will demand. "

"M. De Quelus can, doubtless, get me the King's pardon, " I said, turningmy mind from the past to the future, from regret to apprehension. Thenecessity of considering my situation prevented me from contemplating, atthat time, the perfidy of Mlle. D'Arency, the blindness with which I hadlet myself be deceived, or the tragic and humiliating termination of mygreat love affair. 

"If M. De Quelus is with you, you are safe from the authorities. You willthen have only to guard against assassination at the hands of Guise'sfollowers. "

"I shall go to M. De Quelus early in the morning, " I said. 

"By all means. And you will not go near your lodgings until you haveassured your safety against arrest. You must reach the King before theDuke can see him; for the Duke will not fail to hint that, in killing DeNoyard, you were the instrument of the King or of the Queen-mother. Todisprove that, the King would have to promise the Duke to give you overto the authorities. And now that I think of it, you must make yourselfsafe before the Queen-mother learns of this affair, for she will advisethe King to act in such a way that the Duke cannot accuse him ofprotecting you. My friend, it suddenly occurs to me that you have gotinto a rather deep hole!"

"De Rilly, " I asked, with great concern, "do you think that I was theinstrument of Catherine de Medici in this?"

"Certainly not!" was the emphatic answer. "The fight was about a woman, was it not?"

"A woman was the cause of it, " I answered, with a heavy sigh. "But how doyou know?"

"To tell the truth, " he said, "many people have been amused to seeyou make soft eyes at a certain lady, and to see De Noyard dolikewise. Neither young men like you, nor older men like him, canconceal these things. "

Thus I saw that even De Rilly did not suspect the real truth, and thisshowed me how deep was the design of which I had been the tool. Everybodywould lay the quarrel to rivalry in love. The presence of so manifest acause would prevent people from hitting on the truth. Mlle. D'Arency hadtrusted to my youth, agility, and supposed skill to give me the victoryin that fight in the dark; and then to circumstances to disclose who haddone the deed. "It was De Noyard's jealous rival, " everybody would say. Having found a sufficient motive, no one would take the trouble to seekthe real source, --to trace the affair to the instigation of Catherine deMedici. The alert mind of De Rilly, it is true, divining the equally keenmind of the Duke of Guise, had predicted that Guise might pretend abelief in such instigation, and so force the King to avenge De Noyard, in self-vindication. Mlle. D'Arency well knew that I would notincriminate a woman, even a perfidious one, and counted also on mynatural unwillingness to reveal myself as the dupe that I had been. Moreover, it would not be possible for me to tell the truth in such a waythat it would appear probable. And what would I gain by telling thetruth? The fact would remain that I was the slayer of De Noyard, and, byaccusing the instigators, I would but compel them to demonstratenon-complicity; which they could do only by clamoring for my punishment. And how could I prove that things were not exactly as they hadappeared, --that the woman's screams were not genuine: that she was notactually threatened by De Noyard? Clearly as I saw the truth, clearly asDe Noyard had seen it in his last moments, it could never be establishedby evidence. 

With bitter self-condemnation, and profound rancor against the womanwhose tool I had been, I realized what an excellent instrument she hadfound for her purpose of ridding her mistress of an obstacle. 

It was not certain that the King, himself, had been privy to his mother'sdesign of causing De Noyard's death. In such matters she often actedwithout consulting him. Therefore, when De Quelus should present my caseto him as merely that of a duel over a love affair, Henri would perhapsgive me his assurances of safety, at once, and would hold himself boundin honor to stand by them. All depended on securing these beforeCatherine or the Duke of Guise should have an opportunity to influencehim to another course. 

I felt, as I walked along with De Rilly, that, if I should obtainimmunity from the punishment prescribed by edict, I could rely onmyself for protection against any private revenge that the Duke ofGuise might plan. 

De Rilly took me to a lodging in the Rue de L'Autruche, not far from myown, which was in the Rue St. Honore. Letting myself be commandedentirely by him, I went to bed, but not to sleep. I was anxious formorning to come, that I might be off to the Louvre. I lay speculating onthe chances of my seeing De Quelus, and of his undertaking to obtain theKing's protection for me. Though appalled at what I had done, I had nowish to die, --the youth in me cried for life; and the more I desiredlife, the more fearful I became of failing to get De Quelus'sintercession. 

I grew many years older in that night. In a single flash, I had beheldthings hitherto unknown to me: the perfidy of which a woman was capable, the falseness of that self-confidence and vanity which may delude a maninto thinking himself the conqueror of a woman's heart, the danger ofgoing, carelessly, on in a suspicious matter without looking forward topossible consequences. I saw the folly of thoughtlessness, of blindself-confidence, of reckless trust in the honesty of others and the luckof oneself. I had learned the necessity of caution, of foresight, ofsuspicion; and perhaps I should have to pay for the lesson with my life. 

Turning on the bed, watching the window for the dawn, giving in my mind ahundred different forms to the account with which I should make De Quelusacquainted with the matter, I passed the most of that night. At last, Ifell asleep, and dreamt that I had told De Quelus my story, and he hadbrought me the King's pardon; again, that I was engaged in futile effortsto approach him; again, that De Noyard had come to life. When De Rillyawoke me, it was broad daylight. 

I dressed, and so timed my movements as to reach the Louvre at the hourwhen De Quelus would be about to officiate at the King's rising. De Rillyleft me at the gate, wishing me good fortune. He had to go to oversee thelabors of some grooms in the King's stables. One of the guards of thegate sent De Quelus my message. I stood, in great suspense, awaiting theanswer, fearing at every moment to see the Duke of Guise ride into thePlace du Louvre on his way to crave an interview with the King. 

At last a page came across the court with orders that I be admitted, andI was soon waiting in a gallery outside the apartments of thechamberlains. After a time that seemed very long, De Quelus came out tome, with a look of inquiry on his face. 

Ignoring the speech I had prepared for the occasion, I broke abruptlyinto the matter. 

"M. De Quelus, " I said, "last night, in a sudden quarrel which arose outof a mistake, I was so unfortunate as to kill M. De Noyard. It wasneither a duel nor a murder, --each of us seemed justified in attackingthe other. "

De Quelus did not seem displeased to hear of De Noyard's death. 

"What evidence is there against you?" he asked. 

"That of M. De Noyard's servant, to whom I acknowledged that I had killedhis master. Other evidence may come up. What I have come to beg is yourintercession with the King--"

"I understand, " he said, without much interest. "I shall bring up thematter before the King leaves his bed. "

"When may I expect to know?" I asked, not knowing whether to be reassuredor alarmed at his indifference. 

"Wait outside the King's apartments. I am going there now, " he replied. 

I followed him, saw him pass into the King's suite, and had anotherseason of waiting. This was the longest and the most trying. I stood, nowtapping the floor with my foot, now watching the halberdiers at thecurtained door, while they glanced indifferently at me. Various officersof the court, whose duty or privilege it was to attend the King's rising, passed in, none heeding me or guessing that I waited there for the wordon which my life depended. I examined the tapestry over and over again, noticing, particularly, the redoubtable expression of a horseman withlance in rest, and wondering how he had ever emerged from the towerbehind him, of which the gateway was half his size. 

A page came out of the doorway through which De Quelus had disappeared. Did he bring word to me? No. He glanced at me casually, and passed on, leaving the gallery at the other end. Presently he returned, precedingMarguerite, the Queen of Navarre, whom he had gone to summon. 

"More trouble in the royal family, " I said to myself. The King musthave scented another plot, to have summoned his sister before the timefor the _petite levée_. I feared that this would hinder hisconsideration of my case. 

Suddenly a tall figure, wearing a doublet of cloth of silver, gray velvetbreeches, gray mantle, and gray silk stockings, strode rapidly throughthe gallery, and curtly commanded the usher to announce him. Whileawaiting the usher's return, he stood still, stroking now his lightmustaches, and now his fine, curly blonde beard, which was little morethan delicate down on his chin. As his glance roved over the gallery itfell for a moment on me, but he did not know me, and his splendid blueeyes turned quickly away. His face had a pride, a nobility, a subtletythat I never saw united in another. He was four inches more than six feethigh, slender, and of perfect proportion, erect, commanding, and in theflower of youth. How I admired him, though my heart sank at the sight ofhim; for I knew he had come to demand my death! It was the Duke of Guise. Presently the curtains parted, he passed in, and they fell behind him. 

And now my heart beat like a hammer on an anvil. Had De Quelusforgotten me?

Again the curtains parted. Marguerite came out, but this time entirelyalone. As soon as she had passed the halberdiers, her eyes fell on me, but she gave no sign of recognition. When she came near me, she said, in a low tone, audible to me alone, and without seeming to be aware ofmy presence:

"Follow me. Make no sign, --your life depends on it!"

She passed on, and turned out of the gallery towards her own apartments. For a moment I stood motionless; then, with a kind of instinctive senseof what ought to be done, for all thought seemed paralyzed within me, Imade as if to return to the chamberlains' apartments, from which I hadcome. Reaching the place where Marguerite's corridor turned off, Ipretended for an instant to be at a loss which way to go; then I turnedin the direction taken by Marguerite. If the halberdiers, at the entranceto the King's apartments, saw me do this, they could but think I had madea mistake, and it was not their duty to come after me. Should I seek tointrude whither I had no right of entrance, I should encounter guards tohinder me. 

Marguerite had waited for me in the corridor, out of sight of thehalberdiers. 

"Quickly, monsieur!" she said, and glided rapidly on. She led me boldlyto her own apartments and through two or three chambers, passing, on theway, guards, pages, and ladies in waiting, before whom I had the wit toassume the mien of one who was about to do some service for her, and hadcome to receive instructions. So my entrance seemed to pass as nothingremarkable. At last we entered a cabinet, where I was alone with her. Sheopened the door of a small closet. 

"Monsieur, " she said, "conceal yourself in this closet until I return. Iam going to be present at the _petite levée_ of the King. Do not stir, for they will soon be searching the palace, with orders for your arrest. Had you not come after me, at once, two of the Scotch Guards would havefound you where you waited. I slipped out while they were listening tothe orders that my mother added to the King's. "

I fell on my knee, within the closet. 

"Madame, " I said, trembling with gratitude, "you are more than a queen. You are an angel of goodness. "

"No; I am merely a woman who does not forget an obligation. I have heard, from one of my maids, who heard it from a friend of yours, how youknocked a too inquisitive person into the moat beneath my window. I hadto burn the rope that was used that night, but I have since procuredanother, which may have to be put to a similar purpose!"

And, with a smile, she shut the closet door upon me. 

CHAPTER V. 

HOW LA TOURNOIRE ESCAPED FROM PARIS

I heard the key turn in the lock, and the Queen of Navarre leave thecabinet. She took the key with her, so that a tiny beam of light camethrough the keyhole, giving my dark hiding-place its only illumination. 

I felt complete confidence both in Marguerite's show of willingness tosave me, and in her ability to do so. All I could do was to wait, andleave my future in her hands. 

After a long time, I heard steps in the cabinet outside the closet door, the beam of light from the keyhole was cut off, the key turned again, thedoor opened, and Marguerite again stood before me. 

"Monsieur, " she said, "that we may talk without danger, remain in thecloset. I will leave the door slightly ajar, thus, and will sit here, near it, with my 'Book of Hours, ' as if reading aloud to myself. Shouldany one come, I can lock your door again and hide the key. Hark! besilent, monsieur!"

And as she spoke, she shut the door, locked it, drew out the key, andsat down. I listened to learn what had caused this act of precaution. 

"Madame, " I heard some one say, "M. De l'Archant desires, by order of theKing, to search your apartments for a man who is to be arrested, and whois thought to have secreted himself somewhere in the palace. "

"Let him enter. " said Marguerite. My heart stood still. Then I heard hersay, in a tone of pleasantry:

"What, M. Le Capitain, is there another St. Bartholomew, that peoplechoose my apartments for refuge?"

"This time it is not certain that the fugitive is here, " replied Captainde l'Archant, of the bodyguard. "He is known to have been in the palacethis morning, and no one answering his description has been seen to leaveby any of the gates. It was, indeed, a most sudden and mysteriousdisappearance; and it is thought that he has run to cover in some chamberor other. We are looking everywhere. "

"Who is the man?" asked Marguerite, in a tone of indifference. 

"M. De la Tournoire, of the French Guards. "

"Very well. Look where you please. If he came into my apartments, he musthave done so while I attended the _petite levée_ of the King; otherwise Ishould have seen him. What are you looking at? The door of that closet?He could not have gone there without my knowledge. One of the maidslocked it the other day, and the key has disappeared. " Whereupon, shetried the door, herself, as if in proof of her assertion. 

"Then he cannot be there, " said De L'Archant, deceived by her manner; andhe took his leave. 

For some minutes I heard nothing but the monotonous voice of Margueriteas she read aloud to herself from her "Book of Hours. "

Then she opened my door again. Through the tiny crack I saw a partof her head. 

"Monsieur, " she said to me, keeping her eyes upon the book, and retainingthe same changeless tone of one reading aloud, "you see that you aresafe, for the present. No one in the palace, save one of my maids, isaware that I know you or have reason to take the slightest interest inyou. Your entrance to my apartments was made so naturally and openly thatit left no impression on those who saw you come in. I have since sentevery one of those persons on some errand, so that all who might happento remember your coming here will suppose that you left during theirabsence. It was well that I brought you here; had I merely told you toleave the palace, immediately, you would not have known exactly howmatters stood, and you would have been arrested at your lodgings, or onyour way to your place of duty. By this time, orders have gone to thecity gates to prevent your leaving Paris. Before noon, not only thebody-guard, the Provost of the palace, and the French and Scotch Guardswill be on the lookout for you, but also the gendarmes of the Provost ofParis. That is why we must be careful, and why stealth must be used inconveying you out of Paris. "

"They make a very important personage of me, " I said, in a low tone. 

"Hush! When you speak imitate my tone, exactly, and be silent the instantI cough. Too many people are not to be trusted. That you may understandme, you must know precisely how matters stand. This morning my motherwent to see the King in his chamber before he had risen. They discussed amatter which required my presence, and I was sent for. After we hadfinished our family council, my mother and I remained for a few words, inprivate, with each other. While we were talking, M. De Quelus came in andspoke for a while to the King. I heard the King reply, 'Certainly, as hepreserved you to me, my friend. ' De Quelus was about to leave the King'schamber, when the Duke of Guise was announced. De Quelus waited, out ofcuriosity, I suppose. M. De Guise was admitted. He immediately told theKing that one of his gentlemen, M. De Noyard, had been killed by theSieur de la Tournoire, one of the French Guards. I became interested, forI remembered your name as that of the gentleman who, according to mymaid, had stopped the spy from whom I had had so much to fear. Irecalled, also, that you had the esteem of my brother's faithful Bussyd'Amboise. My mother immediately expressed the greatest horror at DeNoyard's death, with the greatest sympathy for M. De Guise; and she urgedthe King to make an example of you. "

I remembered, with a deep sigh, what De Rilly had told me, --thatCatherine, to prevent the Duke of Guise from laying the death of DeNoyard to her, would do her utmost to bring me to punishment. 

"The King looked at De Quelus, " continued Marguerite. "That gentleman, seeing how things were, and, knowing that the King now wishes to seemfriendly to the Duke, promptly said, 'This is fortunate. La Tournoire isnow waiting for me in the red gallery; I suppose he wishes to beg myintercession. His presumption will be properly punished when the guardsarrest him there. '"

I turned sick, at this revelation of treachery. This was the gentlemanwho owed his life to me, and, in the first outburst of gratitude, hadpromised to obtain for me a captaincy!

"The King, " Marguerite went on, "at once ordered two of the Scotch Guardsto arrest you. All this time, I had been standing at the window, lookingout, as if paying no attention. My mother stopped the guards to give themsome additional direction. No one was watching me. I passed carelesslyout, and you know what followed. At the _petite levée_, I learned whatwas thought of your disappearance, --that you had seen the Duke of Guiseenter the King's apartments, had guessed his purpose, and hadprecipitately fled. "

I did not dare tell his sister what I thought of a King who would, without hesitation or question, offer up one of his guards as a sacrificeto appease that King's greatest enemy. 

"And now, monsieur, " said Marguerite, still seeming to read from herbook, "the King and the Queen, my mother, will make every effort to haveyou captured, lest it be thought that they are secretly protecting theslayer of M. De Noyard. To convince you that you may rely on me, thoroughly, I will confess that it is not solely gratitude for yourservice the other night that induces me to help you, --although mygratitude was great. I had seen the spy rise out of the moat and allnight I was in deadly fear that he had reached the guard-house andprevented my brother's flight, or, at least, betrayed me. When I becameconvinced that he had not done so, I thanked Heaven for the unknowncause that had hindered him. So you may imagine, when my maid told methat a friend of her lover's was that unknown cause, how I felt towardsthat friend. "

"Madame, " I said, with emotion, "I ought to be content to die, having hadthe happiness of eliciting your gratitude!"

"But I am not content that you should die, for I wish you to serve meonce more, this time as a messenger to my brother, the Duke of Anjou, whois at Angers; to M. Bussy d'Amboise, who is with him; and to my husband, the King of Navarre, who is at Nerac, in Gascony. Thus it is to my owninterest to procure your safe escape from Paris. And if you reach Nerac, monsieur, you cannot do better than to stay there. The King of Navarrewill give you some post more worthy of you than that of a mere soldier, which you hold here. "

"I enlisted in the French Guards, " I hastened to explain, "because I wasunknown, and a Huguenot, and could expect no higher beginning. "

"For the very reason that you are a Huguenot, you can expect a great dealfrom the King of Navarre. His kingdom is little more than a toy kingdom, it is true, and his court is but the distant echo of the court of France, but believe me, monsieur, "--and here Marguerite's voice indicated aprofound conviction, --"there is a future before my husband, the King ofNavarre! They do not know him. Moreover, Paris will never be a safeplace for you as long as the Duke of Guise lives. He does not forget!"

I knew that Marguerite had excellent means of knowing the Duke of Guise, and I did not dispute her assertion. Moreover, I was now quite willing togo from the city wherein I was to have achieved such great things. Myself-conceit had been shaken a little. 

"But if every exit is watched, how can I leave Paris?" I asked. 

"The exits were watched to prevent the going of my brother Anjou, " saidMarguerite, "but he went. He crossed the Seine with his chamberlain, Simier, and his valet, Cange, and went to the Abbey of St. Genevieve, ofwhich the gardens are bounded by the city wall. The Abbot Foulon wassecretly with us. M. Bussy had returned to Paris, and was waiting at theAbbey for Monsieur. They left Paris by way of the Abbey garden. The Abbotis a cautious soul, and to protect himself, in case of discovery, he hadM. Bussy tie him to a chair, and after Monsieur and Bussy had joinedtheir gentlemen, outside, and galloped off toward Angers, the Abbot cameto the Louvre, and informed the King of Monsieur's escape. Now I supposewe shall have to make use of the same ingenious Foulon. "

"You know what is best, madame, " I said. 

"But the Abbot of Saint Genevieve would not do for you, or even for me, what he would do for my brother Anjou. If he knew who you were, he mightgladly seize an opportunity to offset, by giving you up, the suspicionthat he had a hand in my brother's escape. "

"But if there is a suspicion of that, will they not watch the Abbey now, on my account?"

"No; for you are not of my brother's party, and the Abbot would have noreason for aiding you. The question is how to make him serve us inthis. I must now think and act, monsieur, and I shall have to lock youup again. "

She rose and did so, and again I was left to meditate. It is astonishinghow unconcerned I had come to feel, how reliant on the ingenuity of thischarming princess with the small head, the high, broad forehead, theburning, black eyes the curly blonde hair, the quizzically discreteexpression of face. 

After some hours, during which I learned, again, the value of patience, the door was opened, and Marguerite thrust in some bread and cold meat, which she had brought with her own hand. I took it in silence, andstooped to kiss the hand, but it was too soon withdrawn, and the doorlocked again. 

When the door next opened, Marguerite stood before it with a candle inher hand. I therefore knew that it was night. In her other hand, she heldfour letters, three of them already sealed, the fourth open. 

"I have made all arrangements, " she said, quickly. "This letter is to theAbbot Foulon. Read it. "

She handed it to me, and held the candle for me while I read:

This gentleman bears private letters to Monsieur. As he was about todepart with them, I learned that the King had been informed of hisintended mission, and had given orders for his arrest at the gate. I callupon you to aid him to leave Paris, as you aided my brother Anjou. Hisarrest would result in a disclosure of how that matter was conducted. 

MARGUERITE. 

I smiled, when I had finished reading the letter. 

"That letter will frighten Brother Foulon into immediate action, " saidMarguerite, "and he will be compelled to destroy it, as it incriminateshim. Take these others. You will first go to Angers, and deliver this tothe Duke of Anjou, this to M. De Bussy. Then proceed to Gascony withthis, for the King of Navarre. "

"And I am to start?"

"To-night. I shall let you down into the moat, as Monsieur was let down. You cannot cross the bridges of the Seine, lest you be stopped by guardsat the entrances; therefore I have employed, in this matter, the same boywho served me the other night. Go immediately from the moat to that partof the quay which lies east of the Hôtel de Bourbon. You will find himwaiting there in a boat. He will take you across the river to the Quay ofthe Augustines, and from there you will go alone to the Abbey. WhenFoulon knows that you come in my name, he will at once admit you. I amsorry that there is not time to have a horse waiting for you outside thefortifications. "

"Alas, I must leave my own horse in Paris! I must go forth as a deserterfrom the Guards!"

"It is better than going to the executioner, " said Marguerite, gaily. "For the last time, monsieur, become a bird in a cage. I am about toretire. As soon as all my people are dismissed, and the palace is asleep, I shall come for you. "

The door closed again upon my prison of a day. I placed the letterswithin my doublet, and looked to the fastening of my clothes, as a manwho prepares for a race or contest. I straightened myself up in my placeof concealment, and stood ready to attempt my flight from this Paris ofwhich the King had made a cage to hold me. 

More waiting, and then came Marguerite, this time without a candle. Shestood in the darkness, in a white _robe de nuit_, like a ghost. 

"Now, monsieur, " she whispered. 

I stepped forth without a word, and followed her through the cabinet intoa chamber which also dark. Three of Marguerite's maids stood there, insilence, one near the door, the other two at the window. One of thelatter held a stout stick, to the middle of which was fastened a rope, which dangled down to the floor and lay there in irregular coils. I sawthis by the little light that came through the window from the cloudednight sky. 

Marguerite took the stick and held it across the window. It was longerthan the width of the window, and hence its ends overlapped the chamberwalls on either side. 

"Are you ready, monsieur?" asked Marguerite, in a whisper. 

"Ready, madame. "

Still holding the stick in position with one hand, she opened the windowwith the other, and looked out. She then drew in her head, and passed theloose end of the rope out of the window. Then she looked at me, and stooda little at one side, that I might have room to pass. 

Summoning a bold heart, I mounted the window-ledge, got on my knees withmy face towards the chamber, caught the rope in both hands, lowered myhead, and kissed one of the hands of the Queen of Navarre; then, restingmy weight on my elbows, dropped my legs out of the window. Two moremovements took my body after them, and presently I saw before me only thewall of the Louvre, and was descending the rope, hand after hand, theweight of my body keeping the stick above in position. 

When I was half-way down, I looked up. The wall of the palace seemed nowto lean over upon me, and now to draw back from me. Marguerite was gazingdown at me. 

At last, looking down, I saw the earth near, and dropped. I cast anotherglance upward. Marguerite was just drawing in her head, and immediatelythe rope's end flew out of my reach. 

"There's no going back the way I came!" I said, to myself, and strodealong the moat to find a place where I could most easily climb out of it. Such a place I found, and I was soon in the street, alone, near where Ihad been wont to watch under the window of Mlle. D'Arency. I took a lastlook at the window of Marguerite's chamber. It was closed, and the ropehad disappeared. My safety was no longer in the hands of the Queen ofNavarre. She had pointed out the way for me, and had brought me thus far;henceforth, I had to rely on myself. 

I shivered in the cold. I had left my large cloak beside the dead body ofM. De Noyard the previous night, and had worn to the Louvre, in themorning, only a light mantle by way of outer covering. 

"Blessings on the night for being so dark, and maledictions on it forbeing so cold!" I muttered, as I turned towards the river. 

I had reached the Hôtel de Bourbon, when I heard, behind me, the soundof footsteps in accord. I looked back. It was a body of several armedmen, two of them bearing torches. 

Were they gendarmes of the watch, or were they guards of the King? Whatwere they doing on my track, and had they seen me?

Probably they had not seen me, for they did not increase their gait, although they came steadily towards me. The torches, which illuminatedeverything near them, served to blind them to what was at a distancefrom them. 

Fortunately, I had reached the end of the street, and so I turnedeastward and proceeded along the quay, high walls on one side of me, theriver on the other. It had been impossible for Marguerite to indicate tome the exact place at which the boat was to be in waiting. I did notthink it best, therefore, to go to the edge of the quay and look for theboat while the soldiers were in the vicinity. They might come upon thequay at the moment of my embarking, and in that event, they wouldcertainly investigate. So I walked on along the quay. 

Presently I knew, by the sound of their steps, that they, too, hadreached the quay, and that they had turned in the direction that I hadtaken. I was still out of the range of their torchlight. 

"How far will I be made to walk by these meddlesome archers?" I askedmyself, annoyed at this interruption, and considering it an incident ofill omen. I looked ahead, to see whither my walking would lead me. 

I saw another body of gendarmes, likewise lighted by torches, justemerging from a street's end, some distance in front of me. They turnedand came towards me. 

I stopped, feeling for an instant as if all my blood, all power ofmotion, had left me. "Great God!" I thought, "I am caught between tworows of teeth. "

I must wait no longer to seek the boat. Would God grant that it might benear, that I might reach it before either troop should see me?

I ran to the edge of the quay and looked over into the river. Of all theboats that lay at rest there, not one in sight was unmoored, not onecontained a boatman!

The two bodies of men were approaching each other. In a few seconds thetwo areas of torchlight would merge together. On one side were walls, frowning and impenetrable; on the other was the river. 

I took off my sword and dagger, on account of their weight, and droppedthem with their sheathes into the river. I started to undo the fasteningof my mantle, but the knot held; my fingers became clumsy, and timepressed. So I gave up that attempt, threw away my hat, let myself overthe edge of the quay, and slid quietly into the icy water. I immediatelydived, and presently came to the surface at some distance from theshore. I then swam for the middle of the river. God knows what powerswithin me awoke to my necessity. I endured the cold, and found strengthto swim in spite of the clothes that impeded my movements and addedimmensely to my weight. 

Without looking back, I could tell, presently, from the talking on thequay that the two detachments of gendarmes had met and were standingstill. Had either one descried me, there would have been loud or hurriedwords, but there were none. After a while, during which I continued toswim, the voices ceased, and I looked back. Two torches remained on thequay. The others were moving away, along the river. I then made a guess, which afterward was confirmed as truth. The boy sent by Marguerite hadbeen discovered in his boat, had been taken to the guard-house, and hadgiven such answers as led to the suspicion that he was waiting to aidthe flight of some one. The captain of the Guard, thinking so to catchthe person for whom the boatman waited, had sent two bodies of men out, one to occupy the spot near which the boy had been found, the other topatrol the river bank in search of questionable persons. I had arrivedon the quay in the interval between the boy's capture and the arrivalof the guards. 

My first intention was to reach the left bank and proceed to the Abbey ofSt. Genevieve. But it occurred to me that, although a boat could not passdown the river, out of Paris, at night, because of the chain stretchedacross the river from the Tour du Coin to the Tour de Nesle, yet aswimmer might pass under or over that chain and then make, through thefaubourg outside the walls, for the open country. Neither Marguerite norI had thought of this way of leaving Paris, because of the seemingimpossibility of a man's surviving a swim through the icy Seine, and aflight in wet clothes through the February night. Moreover, there was thenecessity of leaving my sword behind, and the danger of being seen by themen on guard at the towers on either side of the river. But now thatnecessity had driven me into the river, I chose this shorter route tofreedom, and swam with the current of the Seine. In front of me lay adark mass upon the water in the middle of the river. This was the bargemoored there to support the chain which stretched, from either side, across the surface of the water, up the bank and to the Tour de Nesle onthe left side, and to the Tour du Coin on the right. I might pass eitherto the right or to the left of this barge. Naturally, I chose to avoidthe side nearest the bank from which I had just fled, and to take theleft side, which lay in the shadow of the frowning Tour de Nesle. 

By swimming close to the left bank of the river, I might pass theboundary without diving under the chain, for the chain ascended obliquelyfrom the water to the tower, leaving a small part of the river's surfaceentirely free. But this part was at the very foot of the tower, and if Itried passage there I should probably attract the attention of the guard. I was just looking ahead, to choose a spot midway between the barge andthe left bank, when suddenly the blackness went from the face of things, a pale yellow light took its place, and I knew that the moon had comefrom behind the clouds. A moment later, I heard a cry from the right bankof the river, and knew that I was discovered. The shout came from thesoldiers whom I had so narrowly eluded. 

I knew that it was a race for life now. The soldiers would know that anyman swimming the Seine on a February night was a man whom they ought tostop. I did not look back, --the one thing to do was to pass the Tour deNesle before the guards there should be put on the alert by the criesfrom the right bank. So on I swam, urging every muscle to its utmost. 

Presently came the crack of an arquebus, and spattering sounds behind metold me where the shot had struck the water. I turned to swim upon myleft side, and so I got a glimpse of the quay that I had left. By thehurried movement of torches, I saw that the body that had gone to patrolthe river bank was returning to rejoin the other force. Of the latter, several men were unmooring and manning a large boat. I turned on my backto have a look at the sky. I saw that very soon a heavy mass of blackcloud would obscure the moon. At once I turned, and made towards the leftbank, as if not intending to pass the chain. I could hear the men in theboat speaking rapidly at this, as if commenting on my change of course. Again looking back, I saw that the boat had pushed off, and was makingtowards that point on the left bank for which I seemed to be aiming. Andnow I had something else to claim my attention: the sound of voices camefrom the Tour de Nesle. I cast a glance thither. A troop of the watch wasout at last, having taken the alarm from the movements on the right bank. This troop from the Tour de Nesle was moving towards the place for whichI seemed to be making; hence it was giving its attention solely to thatpart of the left bank which was inside the fortifications. I felt athrill of exultation. The moon passed under the clouds. I changed mycourse, and struck out for the chain. The light of the torches did notreach me. Both the boat from the right bank and the watch from the Tourde Nesle continued to move towards the same point. I approached thechain, took a long breath, dived, felt the stifling embrace of the watersfor a season, rose to the surface, breathed the air of heaven again, andcast a look behind. The chain stretched between me and the distant boatand torches. I was out of Paris. 

I swam on, past the mouth of the Paris moat, and then made for the leftbank. Exhaustion seized me as I laid hold of the earth, but I hadstrength to clamber up. I fell into a sitting posture and rested my tiredarms and legs. What pains of cold and heat I felt I cannot describe. Presently, with returning breath, came the strength to walk, --a strengthof which I would have to avail myself, not only that I might put distancebetween myself and Paris, but also to keep my wet clothes from freezing. I rose and started. 

Choosing not to follow the left bank of the Seine, which was unknownterritory to me, I turned southeastward, in the hope of finding the roadby which I had entered Paris. To reach this, I had but to traverse theFaubourg St. Germaine, along the line of the wall of Paris. I had alreadygone some distance along the outer edge of the moat, with the sleepingfaubourg on my right, when I heard, behind me, the sound of men treadinga bridge. I looked back. The bridge was that which crossed the moat fromthe Tour de Nesle. 

Had the guards at last discovered my way of eluding pursuit, and was Inow being sought outside the walls? It appeared so, for, after crossingthe moat, the troop divided into two bodies, one of which went toward theleft bank below the chain, where I had landed, while the other came alongthe moat after me. I began to run. The moon came out again. 

"Look! he is there!" cried one of my pursuers. I heard their footsteps onthe frozen earth, --they, too, were running. But I had the advantage inone respect: I had no weapons to impede me. The coming out of the moondid not throw me into despair; it only increased my determination to makegood the escape I had carried so far. Though nature, herself, became theally of the King of France and the Duke of Guise against me, I wouldelude them. I was filled with hate and resolution. 

Suddenly, as I ran, it occurred to me that I was a fool to keep so nearthe fortifications, for, at any of the gates, guards might emerge, alarmed by the shouts of my pursuers; and even as I thought this, Ilooked ahead and saw a number of halberdiers coming from the Porte St. Germaine. My situation was now as it had been on the quay, with thisdisadvantage, that I was seen by my enemies, and this advantage, that Ihad a way of retreat open on my right; and I turned and sped along astreet of the Faubourg St. Germaine, towards the country. 

It matters not how many pursue you, if you can run faster and longerthan the best of them all. Gradually, as I went, panting and plunging, onward, heedless of every obstacle, I increased the distance between meand the cries behind. Soon I was out of the faubourg, but I did not stop. I do not know what ground I went over, save that I went southward, orwhat village I presently went through, save that it was silent andasleep. I came upon a good road, at last, and followed it, still running, though a pain in my side warned me that soon I must halt. All my huntershad abandoned the chase now but one. Every time I half turned for abackward look, I saw this one coming after me. He had dropped hisweapons, and so had enabled himself to keep up the chase. Not beingweakened by a previous swim in the Seine, he was in better form than I, and I knew that he would catch me in time. And what then? He was a largefellow, but since the struggle must come, I would better let it come ereI should be utterly exhausted. So I pretended to stagger and lurchforward, and presently came to my knees and then prone upon the ground. With a grunt of triumph, the man rushed up to me, caught me by the collarof my doublet, and raised me from the ground. Hanging limp, andapparently senseless, I put him quite off his guard. 

"Stand up!" he cried. "Stomach of the Pope! Have I come so far only totake a dead man back?"

While he was trying to make me stand, I suddenly gathered all my energyinto my right arm and gave him a quick blow in the pit of the stomach. With a fearful howl, he let me go and fell upon his knees. A blow in theface then made him drop as limp as I had pretended to be; and I resumedmy flight, this time at a more leisurely pace. 

And now all my physical powers seemed to be leaving me. Pains racked myhead, and I seemed at one time to freeze and burn all over, at anothertime to freeze in one part and burn in another. I ached in my muscles, mybones, my stomach. At every step, I felt that it was vastly difficult totake another, that it would be ineffably sweet to sink down upon theearth and rest. Yet I knew that one taste of that sweetness meant death, and I was determined not to lose a life that had been saved from so greatperil by so great effort. Despite all the soldiers at their command, theKing of France and the Duke of Guise should not have their will with me. At last, --I know not how far from Paris, --I came to an inn. There werestill a few crowns in my pocket. Forgetting the danger from which I hadfled, not thinking that it might overtake me here, feeling only the needof immediate shelter and rest, I pounded on the door until I gotadmittance. I have never had any but the vaguest recollection of myinstallation at that inn, so near to insensibility I was when I fellagainst its door. I have a dim memory of having exchanged a few wordswith a sleepy, stolid host; of being glad of the darkness of the night, for it prevented him from noticing my wet, frozen, begrimed, bedraggled, half-dead condition; of my bargaining for the sole occupancy of a room;of his leading me up a winding stairway to a chamber; of my plunging fromthe threshold to the bed as soon as the door was opened. I slept forseveral hours. When I awoke, it was about noon, and I was very hungry andthirsty. My clothes had dried upon me, and I essayed to put them into afairly presentable condition. I found within my doublet the four letters, which had been first soaked and then stiffened. The now useless oneaddressed to the Abbot Foulon, I destroyed; then I went down to thekitchen, and saw, with relief, that it was empty. I ate and drankhurriedly but ravenously. Again the fear of capture, the impulse to putParis further and further behind, awoke in me. I bought a peasant's capfrom the landlord, telling him that the wind had blown my hat into theriver the previous night, and set forth. It was my intention to walk toLa Tournoire, that my money might last. Afoot I could the better turnfrom the road and conceal myself in woods or fields, at any intimationof pursuit. At La Tournoire, I would newly equip myself with clothes, weapons, horse, and money; and thence I would ride to Angers, and finallyaway, southward, to Nerac. 

It was a fine, sunlit day when I stepped from the inn to take the roadgoing southward. I had not gone four steps when I heard horses comingfrom the north. I sought the shelter of a shed at the side of the inn. There was a crack between two boards of this shed, through which I couldlook. The horses came into sight, ten of them. The riders werebrown-faced men, all armed with swords and pistols, and most of themhaving arquebusses slung over their backs. Their leader was a large, broad, black-bearded man, with a very ugly red face, deeply scarred onthe forehead, and with fierce black eyes. He and his men rode up to theinn, beat on the door, and, when the host came, ordered each astirrup-cup. When the landlord brought the wine, the leader asked himsome questions in a low tone. The landlord answered stupidly, shaking hishead, and the horsemen turned to resume their journey. Just as they didso, there rode up, from the south, a merry-looking young cavalierfollowed by two mounted servants. This newcomer gaily hailed theill-looking leader of the troop from the north with the words:

"Ah, M. Barbemouche, whither bound, with your back towards Paris?"

"For Anjou, M. De Berquin, " growled the leader. 

"What!" said the other, with a grin. "Have you left the Duke of Guise totake service with the Duke of Anjou?"

"No, M. Le Vicomte, " said the leader. "It is neither for nor against theDuke of Anjou that we go into his province. It is to catch a rascal whomay be now on the way to hide on his estate there, and whom my master, the Duke of Guise, would like to see back in Paris. "

"Indeed? Who is it that has given the Duke of Guise so great a desire forhis company?"

"The Sieur de la Tournoire, " replied Barbemouche. "Have you met him onthe road?"

"I have never heard of him, before, " said the young cavalier, indifferently; and he rode on northward, while Barbemouche and his mensilently took the opposite direction. 

He had never heard of me, as he said, nor I of him; yet he was to knowmuch of me at a time to come, was the Vicomte de Berquin; and so wasBarbemouche, the scowling man who was now riding towards Anjou insearch of me. 

CHAPTER VI. 

HOW HE FLED SOUTHWARD

When one is pursued, one's best course is to pursue the pursuer. So, whenM. Barbemouche and his troop of Guisards had gone some distance down theroad, I came forth from the shed and followed them, afoot, keeping wellto the roadside, ready to vanish, should any of them turn back. It wasevident that Barbemouche had little or no hope of catching me on theroad. His plan was to surprise me at my château, or to lie there in waitfor me. He had not shown any persistence in questioning the landlord. Thelatter, through laziness or sheer stupidity, or a fear of incurring blamefor having sheltered a fugitive, had not given him any information thatmight lead him to suspect that the man he was seeking was so near. So Icould follow, in comparative safety, into Anjou. 

Their horses constantly increased the distance between the Guiseman-hunters and me, their desired prey. In a few hours they were out ofsight. Thus they would arrive at La Tournoire long before I could. Notfinding me there, they would probably put the servants under restraint, and wait in ambush for me. Several days of such waiting, I said tomyself, would exhaust their patience; thereupon, they would give up thehope of my seeking refuge at La Tournoire, and would return to theirmaster. My best course, therefore, would be to take my time on the road, to be on the alert on coming near La Tournoire, and to lie in hidinguntil I should be assured of their departure. In order to consume as muchtime as I could, and to wear out the enemy's patience without putting myown to the test, I decided to go first to Angers, deliver Marguerite'sletters to Monsieur and Bussy d'Amboise, and then make for La Tournoire. Therefore, when, after a few days of walking, I came to LeMans, I did notturn southward, towards La Tournoire, but followed the Sarthesouthwestward to Angers. 

On this journey, I skirted Rambouillet, Anneau, and the other towns in myway, and avoided large inns, for fear of coming up with the Guise party. I made my money serve, too, by purchasing cheaply the hospitality offarmers and woodmen. My youth had withstood well the experiencesattending my escape from Paris, and enabled me to fare on the coarse foodof the peasantry. There was plenty of healthy blood in my veins to keepme warm. Outside of my doublet, my shoulders had no covering but thelight mantle, of which I was now glad that I had been unable to ridmyself in my swim down the Seine. People who saw me, with my rumpledclothes and shapeless ruff and peasant's cap, probably took me for ayounger son who had endured hard fortune. 

Such was my condition when I reached Angers and presented myself at thegate of the château wherein the Duke of Anjou had taken residence. Therewere many soldiers in and about the town, and horsemen were arriving anddeparting. I might not easily have obtained audience of the Duke, had notBussy d'Amboise ridden up at the head of a small troop of horse, while Iwas waiting at the gate. I called out his name, and he recognized me, showing surprise at my appearance. I gave him his letter, and he had meconducted to the Duke, who was striding up and down the hall of thechâteau. His mind was evidently preoccupied, perhaps already with fearsas to the outcome of his rebellious step, and he did not look at me whenhe took the letter. His face brightened, though, when he saw theinscription in Marguerite's handwriting, and he went, immediately, to awindow to read the letter. Bussy d'Amboise, who had dismounted and comein with me, now beckoned me to follow him, and when we were outside, heoffered to supply me with a horse, money and arms, proposing that I enterthe service of the Duke of Anjou. But I told him that I was bound forGascony, and when he still offered me some equipment, I protested that Iwould refurnish myself at my own château; so he let me go my way. I couldsee that he was in haste to break the seal of Marguerite's letter. 

I had gone two leagues or more northward from Angers, and was about toturn eastward toward La Tournoire, when I saw a long and brilliantcortege approaching from the direction of Paris. Several men-at-armswere at the head, then came a magnificent litter, then a number ofmounted ladies and gentlemen, followed by a host of lackeys, a number ofmules with baggage, and another body of soldiers. This procession waswinding down the opposite hillside. The head of it was already crossingthe bridge over a stream that coursed through the valley toward theSarthe. Slowly it came along the yellow road, the soldiers and gentlemenholding themselves erect on their reined-in horses, the ladies chattingor laughing, and looking about the country, the wind stirring the plumesand trappings, the sunlight sparkling on the armor and halberds of theguards, the sword-hilts of the gentlemen, the jewels and rich stuffswhich shone in the attire of the riders. There were velvet cloaks andgowns; satin and silk doublets, breeches, and hose; there were cloth ofgold and cloth of silver. Here and there the cavalcade passed clumps oftrees that lined the road, and it was then like pictures you have seenin tapestry. 

Concealment had lately become an instinctive act with me, and I nowsought refuge in the midst of some evergreen bushes, at a little distancefrom the road, from which I could view the cavalcade as it passed. On itcame, the riders throwing back their shoulders as they filled their lungswith the bracing country air. The day was a mild one for the time ofyear, and the curtains of the litter were open. Inside sat a number ofladies. With a start, I recognized two of the faces. One was Mlle. D'Arency's; the other was the Queen-mother's. Mlle. D'Arency wasnarrating something, with a derisive smile, to Catherine, who listenedwith the slightest expression of amusement on her serene face. 

Catherine was going to try to persuade her son, the Duke of Anjou, togive up his insurrectionary designs and return to the court of hisbrother. I guessed this much, as I lay hidden in the bushes, and Iheartily wished her failure. As for Mlle. D'Arency, I have no words forthe bitterness of my thoughts regarding her. I grated my teeth togetheras I recalled how even circumstance itself had aided her. She could havehad no assurance that in the combat planned by her I should kill DeNoyard, or that he would not kill me, and yet what she had desired hadoccurred. When the troop had passed, I arose and started for LaTournoire. It seemed to me that a sufficient number of days had nowpassed to tire the patience of Barbemouche, and that I might now visit mychâteau for the short time necessary. 

Nevertheless, it was with great caution that I approached theneighborhood in which all my life, until my departure for Paris, had beenpassed. At each bend of the road, I stopped and listened before going on. When I entered a piece of woods, I searched, with my eyes, each side ofthe road ahead, for a possible ambush. When I approached the top of ahill, it was with my ears on the alert for the sound of horsemen or ofhuman feet, and, when I reached the crest, I found some spot where, lyingon my stomach or crouching behind underbrush, I could survey the lowlandahead. And so, meeting no indication of peril, treading familiar andbeloved ground, I at last reached the hill-top from which I would have mylong-expected view of La Tournoire. It was just sunset; with beatingheart, I hastened forward, risking something in my eagerness to lookagain upon the home of my fathers. I gazed down, ready to feast my eyeson the dear old tower, the peaceful garden, the--

And I saw only a smouldering pile of ruins, not one stone of my châteauleft upon another, save a part of the stables, before which, heeding thedesolation no more than crows are repelled by the sight of a dead body, sat M. Barbemouche and two of his men throwing dice. Only one tree wasleft in the garden, and from one of its limbs hung the body of a man, through which a sword was thrust. By the white hair of the head, I knewthe body was that of old Michel. 

So this was the beginning of the revenge of the Duke of Guise upon a poorgentleman for having eluded him; thus he demonstrated that a follower ofhis might not be slain with impunity. And the Duke must have had theassurance of the King that this deed would be upheld; nay, probably theKing, in his design of currying favor with his powerful subject, hadpreviously sanctioned this act, or even suggested it, that the Duke mighthave no ground for suspecting him of protecting me. 

Grief at the sight of the home of my youth, the house of my ancestors, laid low, gave way to rage at the powerful ones to whom that sight wasdue, --the Duke who despoiled me, the King who had not protected me, theQueen as whose unknowing tool I had made myself liable to this outrage. As I stood on that hill-top, in the dusk, and looked down on the ruins ofmy château, I declared myself, until death, the enemy to that Queen, thatDuke, and that King, --most of all to that King; for, having saved thelife of his favorite, having taken humble service in his Guards, andhaving received from him a hinted promise of advancement, I had theright to expect from him a protection such as he gave every day toworthless brawlers. 

At nightfall, I went to the hovel of a woodman, on whose fidelity I knewI could depend. At my call, he opened the door of his little hut, andreceived me with surprise and joy. With him was a peasant namedFrolichard. 

"Then you are alive, monsieur?" cried the woodman, closing the door afterme, and making for me a seat on his rude bed. 

"As you see, " I replied. "I have come to pass the night in your hut. To-morrow I shall be off for the south. "

"Alas, you have seen what they have done! I knew nothing of it untilMichel was dead, and the servants came fleeing through the woods. Theyhave gone, I know not where, and the tenants, too. All but Frolichard. Asyet, the soldiers have not found this hut. "

By questioning him, I learned that M. Barbemouche had denounced me as aheretic and a traitor (I could see how my desertion from the FrenchGuards might be taken as implying intended rebellion and treason), andhad told Michel that my possessions were confiscated. What authority hepretended to have, I could not learn. It was probably in wrath at notfinding me that he had caused the destruction of my château, to makesure that it might not in any circumstances shelter me again. 

I well knew that, whatever my rights might be, my safety lay far from LaTournoire; and so did my means of retaliation. 

"If I had but a horse and a sword left!" I said. 

"There is a horse which I have been using, in my shed, " replied theforester; "and I made one of the servants leave here the swords that hewas carrying away in his flight. Moreover, he had filled a bag withcrowns from Michel's strong box. So you need not leave entirelyunprovided. "

I thanked the faithful fellow as he brought forth the swords and thelittle bag of gold pieces from under his bed, and then I lay down tosleep. The peasant Frolichard was already dozing in a corner by the fire. 

I was awakened suddenly by a shake of the shoulder. The woodman stood bythe bed, with every sign of alarm on his face. 

"Monsieur, " he whispered, "I fear you would best eat and begone. Thatcursed rascal, Frolichard, left while I was asleep. I am sure that thedevil has been too much for him. He has probably gone to tell thesoldiers that you are here. Eat, monsieur!"

I sprang up, and saw that the forester had already prepared someporridge for me. 

"It is nearly dawn, " he added, as I looked around I swallowed a fewmouthfuls of the porridge, and chose the better one of the swords. Then Itook up the little bag of golden crowns, and went out to mount horse. Theanimal that the woodman held for me was a sorry one, the ugliest andoldest of my stable. 

Yet I rode blithely through the woods, happy to have again a horseunder me, and a sword at my side. I knew that the forester could takecare of himself as long as there should remain woods to hunt in orstreams to fish in. 

When I reached, the road it was daylight. I made for the hill-top, andstopped for a last look at my fields. I did not have to hesitate as to mycourse. In my doublet was Marguerite's letter, to be borne to the King ofNavarre. Yet there was another reason why I should not attach myself tothe Duke of Anjou, although he was already in rebellion against the King:the look on his face, when I saw him at Angers, had convinced me that hewould not hold out. Should Catherine not win him back to allegiance, hisown weakness would. I would place my hopes in the future of Henri ofNavarre. Nothing could, as yet, be predicted with assurance concerningthis Prince, who, being the head of the house of Bourbon, whichconstituted the younger branch of the Royalty of France, was the highest, by blood, of the really Huguenot leaders. Some, however, whispered thatthere was more in him than appeared in his amours and his adventures ofthe chase. 

I was just about to turn my horse's head towards the south, when a mancame out of my half-ruined stable and looked up at me. Instantly hecalled to some one in the stable, and two or three other soldiers cameout. I recognized the burly form of one of these as that of Barbemouche. Another figure, a limp and cringing one, was that of Frolichard thepeasant. Barbemouche gave some orders, and two or three brought horsesout of the stable. I knew what all this meant. 

I turned my horse, and galloped off towards the south. In a few moments Iheard the footfalls of galloping horses behind me. Again I was the objectof a chase. 

When I had gone some distance, I looked back and saw my hunters coming, ten of them, down the hillside behind me. But the morning was bracing, and my horse had more life in him than at first sight appeared. I putanother hill behind me, but in time my followers appeared at its crest. Now they gained on me, now I seemed to leave them further behind. All daythis race continued. I bore directly southward, and hence passed far eastof Angers. I soon made up my mind that M. Barbemouche was a man ofpersistence. I did not stop anywhere for food or drink. Neither did M. Barbemouche. I crossed the Loire at Saumur. So did he. 

"Very well, " I said. "If my horse only holds out, I will lead you all theway to Gascony. "

Once I let my horse eat and rest; twice I let him drink. 

At nightfall, the sound of the hoofs behind me gradually died away. Myown beast was foaming and panting, so I reined in to a walk. Near Loudun, I passed an inn whose look of comfort, I thought, would surely tempt mytired pursuers to tarry, if, indeed, they should come so far. Some hourslater, coming to another and smaller inn, and hearing no sound of pursuitbehind me, I decided to stop for a few hours, or until the tramp ofhorses' feet should disturb the silence of the night. 

The inn kitchen, as I entered, was noisy with shouts and curses. Onemight have expected to find a whole company of soldiers there, but to mysurprise, I saw only one man. This was a robust young fellow, with a biground face, piercing gray eyes, fiercely up-sprouting red mustache, and adouble--pointed reddish beard. There was something irresistiblypugnacious, and yet good-natured, in the florid face of this person. Hesat on a bench beside a table, forcibly detaining an inn maid with hisleft arm, and holding a mug of wine in his right hand. Beside him, on thebench, lay a sword, and in his belt was a pistol. He wore a brown clothdoublet, brown breeches, and green hose. 

"A thousand devils!" he roared, as I entered. "Must a fighting man standand beg for a kiss from a tavern wench? I don't believe in any of yourpainted saints, wooden or ivory, but I swear by all of them, good-lookinggirls are made to be hugged, and I was made to hug them! Here, you tentimes damned dog of a landlord, bring me another bottle of your filthywine, or I'll make a hole in your barrel of a body! Be quick, or I'llroast you on your own spit, and burn down your stinking old inn!" At thismoment he saw me, as I stood in the doorway. "Come, monsieur!" he cried, "I'm not fastidious, curse me, and you might drink with me if you werethe poxy old Pope himself! Here, wench, go and welcome the gentleman witha kiss!" And he shoved the girl towards me and began to pound, in sheerdrunken turbulence, on the table with his mug. 

I left the kitchen to this noisy guest, and took a room up-stairs, wherethe landlord presently brought me light and supper. 

I paid in advance for my night's lodging, and arranged to have access, atany time during the night, to the shed in which was my horse, so that atthe least alarm I might make hasty flight. I opened my window, that thesound of horses on the road might be audible to me from a distance. Then, having eaten, I put out my light and lay down, in my clothes, readyon occasion to rise and drop from the window, take horse, and be off. 

From the kitchen, below, came frequent sounds emitted or caused by thetipsy young Hercules in the brown doublet. Now he bellowed for wine, nowhe thundered forth profanity, now he filled the place with the noise ofGargantuan laughter; now he sang at the top or the depth of his big, fullvoice; then could be heard the crash of furniture in collision. Thesesounds continued until far into the night. 

I had intended not to sleep, but to lie with ears alert. I could not yetbring myself to feel that I was safe from pursuit. So used had I becometo a condition of flight, that I could not throw off the feeling of beingstill pursued. And yet, I had hoped that Barbemouche would tire of thechase. My plan had not been to confuse him as to my track, by takingby-roads or skirting the towns, but merely to outrun him. Because Iwished to reach Nerac at the earliest possible moment, and because thecountry was new to me and I desired not to lose my way, I had held to themain road southward, being guided in direction by the sun or the stars. Moreover, had I made detours, or skirted cities, Barbemouche might havegone ahead by the main road and lain in wait further south for my comingup, for Frolichard, the peasant, had heard me tell the woodman mydestination. So, in that first day's flight, I had trusted to the speedof my horse, and now there was some reason to believe that Barbemouchehad abandoned pursuit, as the soldiers had done who chased me from Paris. And yet, it seemed to me that this ugly Barbemouche was not one to giveup his chosen prey so soon. 

Despite my intention, I feel asleep, and when I awoke it was daylight. Isprang up and went cautiously down-stairs, sword in hand. But there wasno danger. Only the host and a servant were stirring in the inn. I made arapid breakfast, and went to see my horse fed. Before the shed, I saw theyoung man who had made such drunken tumult in the kitchen the previousnight. He was just about to mount his horse; but there was now nothing ofthe roysterer about his look or manner. He had restored neatness to hisattire, and his expression was sedate and humble, though strength andsturdiness were as apparent in him as ever. 

"A fine morning, " I said, as the inn-servant brought out my own horse. 

"Yes, monsieur, " said the young man, in a very respectful tone. "Asunrise like this is a gift from the good God. "

"Yet you look pensive. "

"It is because I know how little I deserve such mercy as to live on sucha day, " answered the man, gravely; and he bowed politely, and rodesouthward. 

This devoutness and humility impressed me as being strangely out ofharmony with the profanity and turbulence of the night before, yet theone seemed no less genuine than the other. 

My horse fed, I mounted and rode after the sturdy youth. 

Not far from Mirebeau, happening to turn my head towards the north, Isaw, in the distance, a group of horsemen approaching at a steady gallop. From having looked back at this group many times during the precedingday, I had stamped certain of its figures on my memory, and I nowrecognized it as Barbemouche and his party. 

"Another day of it, " I said, to myself, and spurred my horse to a gallop. 

An increase in their own pace told me that they in turn hadrecognized me. 

"This grows monotonous, " I mused. "If there were only fewer of them, ormore of me, I would make a stand. "

Presently I came up with the young man in the brown doublet. He stared atme with a look of inquiry as I passed at such speed; then he looked backand saw the distant horsemen coming on at equal speed. He appeared torealize the situation at a glance. Without a word, he gave his own horsea touch of the spur, with the manifest intention of keeping my company inmy flight. 

"You have a good horse, " I said to him, at the same time watching him outof the corner of my eye, seeking some indication that might show whether, on occasion, he would stand as my friend or my enemy. 

"Better than yours, I fear, monsieur, " he replied. 

"Mine has been hard run, " I said, lightly. 

Presently he looked back, and said:

"Ah, the devil! Your friends, back there, are sending out an advanceguard. Three of them are making a race of it, to see which shall have thehonor of first joining you. "

I looked back. It was true; three of them were bearing down withgreat speed, evidently on fresh horses. Barbemouche remained backwith the rest. 

I urged on my horse. 

"It is useless, monsieur, " said the young man at my side. "Your beast isno match for theirs. Besides, you will not find a better place to make astand than the bridge yonder. " And he pointed ahead to a bridge thatcrossed a narrow stream that lay between high banks. 

"What, face ten men?" I said. 

"There are only three. The thing may be over before the others come up. "

I laughed. "Well, admitting that, three against one--" I began. 

"Oh, there will be two of us, " replied the other. 

My heart gave a joyous bound, but I said, "I cannot expect you to riskyour life in my quarrel. "

And he answered, "By God! I myself have a quarrel with every man thatwears on his hat the white cross of the Guises!" His grey eyes flashed, his face became red with wrath. "Let us stop, monsieur. "

We stopped and turned our horses on the narrow bridge. We both drew swordand waited. My new-found ally threw back his hat, and I saw across hisforehead a deep red scar, which I had not before noticed. 

The three men rode up to the attack. They all stopped suddenly beforethey reached the bridge. 

"Give up your sword and come with us, monsieur, " cried one of them to me. 

I said nothing. "Go to hell!" roared my companion. And with that hecharged with the fury of a wild beast, riding between two of thehorsemen, and thrusting his sword through the eye and into the brain ofone before either could make the least show of defence. His horse comingto a quick stop, he drew his weapon out of the slain man's head andturned on the other. While there was some violent fencing between thetwo, and while the dead man's horse reared, and so rid itself of itsbleeding burden, the third horseman urged his horse towards me. I turnedthe point of his rapier, whereupon he immediately backed, and then camefor me again just as I charged on him. Each was too quick to meet theother's steel with steel. His sword passed under my right arm and mysword under his right arm, and we found ourselves linked together, arm toarm. I saw him reach with his left hand for his dagger, and I grew sickat the thought that I had no similar weapon with which to make matterseven. He plucked the dagger from his belt, and raised it to plunge itinto my back; but his wrist was caught in a clutch of iron. My man in thebrown doublet, in backing his horse to make another charge on his stillremaining opponent, had seen my antagonist's motion, and now, with atwist of his vigorous fingers, caused the dagger to fall from a limp arm. Then my comrade returned to meet his own enemy, and I was again on equalterms with mine. We broke away from each other. I was the quicker toright myself, and a moment later he fell sidewise from his horse, piercedthrough the right lung. 

I backed my horse to the middle of the bridge, and was joined by mystalwart friend, who had done for his second man with a dagger thrustin the side. 

"Whew!" he panted, holding his dripping weapons on either side of him, soas not to get any more blood on his clothes. Then a grin of satisfactionappeared on his perspiring face, and he said:

"Three Guisards less to shout '_Vive la messe_. ' It's a pity we haven'ttime to exchange horses with these dead whelps of hell. But the othersare coming up, and we ought to rest awhile. "

We sheathed our weapons and spurred on our horses, again southward. Looking back, soon, we saw that the other pursuers, on coming up to theirdead comrades, had chosen first to look after the belongings of thelatter rather than to avenge their deaths. And while Barbemouche and hismen, of whom there were now six, tarried over the dead bodies, we madesuch good speed that at last we were out of sight of them. 

My first use of my returned breath was to thank my stalwart ally. 

He received my gratitude with great modesty, said that the Lord hadguided his arm in the fight, and expressed himself with a humility thatwas in complete contrast to the lion-like fury shown by him in thecombat. Judging him, from his phrases, to be a Huguenot, I asked whetherhe was one, by birth, as I was. 

"By birth, from my mother, " he replied. "My father was a Catholic, and inorder to win my mother, he pretended to have joined the reformers. Thatdeceit was the least of his many rascally deeds. He was one of the choseninstruments of the devil, --a violent, roystering cut-throat, but a goodsoldier, as was shown in Italy and at St. Quentin, Calais, Jarnac, andelsewhere. My mother, though only the daughter of an armorer's workman, was, in goodness, an angel. I thank God that she sometimes has the upperhand in me, although too often it is my father that prevails in me. " Hesighed heavily, and looked remorseful. 

In subsequent talk, as we rode, I learned that he was a soldier who hadlearned war, when a boy, under Coligny. He had fought at his father'sside against Italians, Spanish, and English, and against his father incivil war. His father had died of a knife-wound, received, not in battle, but from a comrade in a quarrel about a woman, during the sacking of atown. His mother, when the news of the fate of her unworthy spousereached the village where she lived, died of grief. The son was nowreturning from that village, which was near Orleans, and whither he hadbeen on a visit to his relations, to Gascony, where he had been employedas a soldier in the small army with which Henri of Navarre made shift togarrison his towns. 

I told him that I hoped to find a place in that little army. 

"You do well, monsieur, " said the young soldier, whose intelligence andnative dignity made him, despite his peasant origin, one with whom agentleman might converse. "Some day they will learn in France of whatstuff the little Bearnaise King is made. I have stood watching him whenhe little supposed that a common soldier might take note of such things, and I have seen on his face the sign of great intentions. More goes onunder that black hair than people guess at, --he can do more than drinkand hunt and make love and jest and swear. "

He was in no haste to reach Gascony, he said, and so he intended to visita former comrade who dwelt in a village some leagues from my road. In theafternoon, coming to the by-road which led to this place, he left me, with the words:

"My name is Blaise Tripault, and should it happen that you ever enroll acompany for the King of Navarre--"

"The first name on my list shall be Blaise Tripault, " I replied, smiling, and rode on, alone. 

Whenever I heard riders behind me, I looked back. At evening I reached aneminence which gave a good view of the country through which I hadpassed. Two groups of horsemen were visible. One of these consisted ofseven men. The chief figure was a burly one which I could not mistake, --that of Barbemouche. 

"_Peste_!" I muttered, frowning. "So they are following me into Poitou!Am I never to have any rest?"

I took similar precautions that night to those which I had taken thenight before. The next day, about noon, emerging out of a valley, I sawmy pursuers on the top of the hill at my rear. Plainly, they intended tofollow me to the end of the earth. I hoped they would stop in Poitiersand get drunk, but they tarried there no more than I. And so it was, later, at Civray and at Angoulême. 

Every day I got one or two glimpses of this persistent pack of hounds. Every night I used like measures to make sudden flight possible. Onenight the sound for which I kept my ears expectant reached them, --thesound of horses' hoofs on the hard road. I dropped from the open windowof the inn at which I was, led out my horse from the shed, and made off, southward. The noise made by their own horses prevented my pursuers fromhearing that made by mine. Presently the clatter abruptly ceased, whereupon I knew that they had stopped at the inn which I had left. Myrelief at this was offset by chagrin at a discovery made by me at thesame moment: I had left my bag of golden crowns in the inn chamber. Idared not now go back for them. Well, Nerac could not be far away, now. Ihad traversed a good part of Guienne. The Dordogne was behind me. 

I was glad that I had taken better care of the letter from Marguerite toher husband than I had taken of my crowns. Fortunately it had not leftmy doublet. I felt that my future depended on the delivery of thatletter. There could be no doubt that Marguerite had recommended me in itwith a favor that would obtain for me both protection and employment fromthe King of Navarre. 

Daylight came, and with it hunger. I stopped at an inn, and was about todismount, when I remembered that I had no money. 

I could do without food for a time, but my horse could not. I told thelandlord, --a short, heavy, square-faced, small-eyed man, --that I would, later, send him payment for a breakfast. He looked at me with acontempt that even a peasant dare show to a gentleman, when thegentleman has no money. 

"Very well, then, " I said. "I will leave you security. "

He looked more respectful at this, and made a quick examination of mewith his eyes. 

"Unless you have some jewelry about you, " he said, "your sword is theonly thing that I would accept. "

"You clod, " I exclaimed, in a rage. "I ought to give you my sword throughthe body. "

"A gentleman ought not to demand, for nothing, that which a poor manmakes his living by selling, " answered the host, turning to go in. 

I looked down at my horse, which had already shown an endurance beyondits stock, and which now turned its eyes, hungrily, towards the innstable. At the same time I thought I heard the sound of hoofs, awaynorthward. After all, the delivery of the letter depended more on thehorse than on my sword, for one horse is more likely to beat seven horsesthan one sword to beat seven swords. 

To try whether it were possible, I made one movement, as if to hand overthe weapon. But my arm refused. As well try to pluck the heart out of mybody, and give it to the dog's keeping. Rather kill the man on his ownthreshold and, like a brigand, help myself. But I chose to be merciful. 

"Be quick, then, " I said. "Bring me some wine, and feed my horse as itstands here. I could take, for nothing, what you ask such highsecurity for. "

"And I have three strong sons, " said the innkeeper, impudently. But hebrought the wine, and ordered one of his sons to bring oats for thehorse. So we made our breakfast there, horse and man, standing before theinn door. When the animal had licked up the last grain, I suddenly hurledthe heavy wine-mug at the innkeeper's head, wheeled my horse about, andgalloped off, shouting back to the half-stunned rascal, "Your three sonsmust be swift, as well as strong, to take my sword. " And I rode on, southward. 

"Will the Guisards follow me over this river, also?" I asked myself, asI crossed the Garonne. 

In the afternoon, I stopped for another look backward. There was not asoul to be seen on the road. 

"Adieu, M. Barbemouche!" I said. "I believe you have grown tired ofme at last. "

At that instant a group appeared at the distant turn of the road. Icounted them. Seven! And they were coming on at the speed of the wind. 

I patted my horse on his quivering neck. "Come, old comrade, " I said. "Now for one last, long race. In your legs lies my future. "

He obeyed the spur, and his increased pace revealed a slight lameness, which had not before been perceptible. 

"We have only to reach some Gascon town, " I said to him. "The soldiersof the King of Navarre will protect the bearer of a letter to him fromtheir Queen. "

I turned in my saddle, and looked back. They were gaining ground. 

"They know that this is their last chance, " I said. "We are near thecountry held by the King of Navarre, and so they make a last effortbefore giving up the chase. On, my staunch fellow! You shall have finetrappings, and shall fare as well as your master, for this!"

The animal maintained its pace as if it understood; but it pantedheavily and foamed, its eyes took on a wild look, and its lamenessincreased. 

"They are coming nearer, there is no doubt of it!" I told myself. "Have Iescaped from the Louvre and from Paris, led my enemies a chase throughfive provinces, to be taken when refuge is at last in sight? ShallMarguerite's letter to Henri of Navarre fall into the hands of those whowish him no good?"

Tears gushed from my eyes as I thought of the cruelty of destiny, whichhad sustained me so far in order to betray me at the end. I took theletter from my doublet, and held it ready to tear into pieces should Iindeed be caught. Although Marguerite was thought to have secrets withthe Duke of Guise, it was likely that she would not wish him to know whatshe might write to her husband, whose political ally she always was. 

And now my horse dropped its head lower at each bound forward. The sevenhorses behind showed no sign of tiring. 

"Thank God, I kept my sword! I can kill one of them, at least!"

I no longer looked back. Blindly forward I went, impelled only to deferthe end to the last possible moment. God knew what might yet intervene. 

Suddenly my horse gave a snort of pain, stumbled blindly, and fell to hisknees. He slid forward a short distance, carried on by his impetus, andthen turned over on his side, and lay quivering. I had taken my feet fromthe stirrups at his stumble, so that I now stood over his body. 

I heard the loud clank of the hoofs behind. I stepped over the horse, anddrew my sword. A short distance ahead was a clump of scrubby pines; thereI would turn and make my stand. 

Then was the time when I might have torn up the letter, had I notsuddenly forgotten my intention. I held it clutched in my hand, mechanically, as I ran. I was conscious of only one thing, --that deathwas bearing down on me. The sound of the horses' footfalls filled myears. Louder and louder came that sound, drowning even the quick pantingof my breath. Again came that aching in the side, that intolerable painwhich I had felt in my flight from Paris. 

I pressed my hand to my side, and plunged forward. Suddenly the roadseemed to rise and strike me in the face. I had fallen prostrate, and nowlay half-stunned on the earth. I had just time to turn over on my back, that I might face my pursuers, when the foremost horse came up. 

"Well, my man, " cried the rider, in a quick, nervous voice, as I lookedstupidly up at his short, sturdy figure, hooked nose, keen eyes, blackhair and beard, and shrewd, good-natured face, "did you think the devilwas after you, that you ran so hard? _Ventre Saint Gris_! You would makean excellent courier. "

"I am a courier, " I answered, trying to rise. "I ran so fast that I mightsoon reach Nerac with this letter for your majesty. "

And I held the letter out to King Henri of Navarre. 

CHAPTER VII. 

HOW HE ANNOYED MONSIEUR DE LA CHATRE

I had never seen Henri of Navarre, before, but had often heard himdescribed, and no other man exactly fitted his description. His favoriteoath confirmed my recognition. 

He took the letter, saying, "It looks as if it had been through fireand flood"

"I had to swim the Seine with it, " I said. 

He read it, sitting on his horse in the middle of the road, I standingbeside the horse, the other six riders eyeing me curiously. 

Having finished it, he looked at me with some interest and approval. "Andwhat made you run from us?" he asked. 

"Sire, there were seven horsemen left in the party that has been chasingme for some days past. Counting seven in your group, I too quicklyassumed that it was the same. "

The King of Navarre laughed, and ordered one of the lackeys to give mehis horse and proceed afoot to the nearest town. When I was mounted, heasked me to ride beside him. 

"The speed at which you rode excited our curiosity, " he explained, "andthat is why we gave chase. "

I learned, later, that Henri and three of his gentlemen, with threevalets, had been inspecting the defences of one of his Gascon towns, andwere now returning to Nerac. He sometimes traversed those parts of hisFrench provinces where his authority as governor was recognized, withoutany state, and often without a guard. 

In reply to his questions, I said that I preferred a military position toa civil one, but confessed my inexperience. He told me that I might serveas ensign in one of his regiments, at Nerac, until I should acquire someknowledge of military affairs, when he would give me a captain'scommission, and I might enlist a company. 

I told him of the destruction of my château, and the loss of my money. Hethereupon required me to accept the horse on which I rode, and a pursewhich one of the valets handed over to me. As he then beckoned one of hisgentlemen to his side, I fell back. We entered Nerac in the evening. Assoon as the gate was passed, the King and his followers turned towardsthe château, and I took the main street to an inn. 

The King of Navarre kept his promises. I had been ensign for only a fewmonths, stationed at Nerac, when he sent for me, and informed me that heintended to augment his army, and that he would maintain a company of myraising. He caused a captain's commission to be given to me before I leftthe château. I walked thence, down the avenue of fine trees, which werenow in full leaf, before the château, debating with myself thepossibility of easily raising a company. When I reached the square beforethe inn, I heard from within a human roar which had a familiar sound. Entering, I found that it proceeded from the stentorian lungs of BlaiseTripault, the young soldier who had aided my flight to Gascony by killingtwo Guisards in my defence. He was sitting at a table, very drunk. 

"Ah, Blaise Tripault, " I cried, "I see that your father prevailsin you now!"

He recognized me, threw his bottle of wine out of the open window, andmade an attempt at sobriety. 

"You have been long on the way to Nerac, " I went on, "but you come justin time to keep your promise. I enroll you first in the company which theKing has commissioned me to raise. "

"I thank you, monsieur, " he replied. "I will now go to bed, and will cometo you as soon as I am sober. "

He was of great use to me in enlisting the company. He scoured thecountry daily, and brought me recruits. When the roll was complete, I wasordered to remain at Nerac for a time. Subsequently, I was sent togarrison different towns, one after another, not only in Gascony andparts of Guienne but also in Henri's principality of Béarn and his littlekingdom of Navarre. 

I am proud to have had a share in the constant efforts made by Henri ofNavarre, while the world thought him given over entirely to gallantry athis small but agreeable court, to increase his territory and hisresources against the time when he was to strike the great blows that noone yet dreamed he was meditating. Thanks to the unwillingness, orinability, of the King of France to put him in actual possession of hisgovernorship of Guienne, we had the pleasant task, now and then, ofwresting some town from the troops of the League or of Henri III. OurHenri had to take by force the places ceded to him by the King of Franceas Marguerite's dower, but still withheld from him. One of these wasCahors, in the taking of which I fought for days in the streets, alwaysnear our Henri, where the heart of the fighting was. It was there thatBlaise Tripault covered himself with glory and the blood of the enemy, and was openly praised by the King. 

But my life in the south had other pleasures besides those of fighting. As Henri's was a miniature kingdom, so was his court, at cheerful Neracor sombre Pau, a miniature court; yet it had its pretty women andgallant gentlemen. Gaiety visited us, too, from the greater world. Whenthe King of France and the Queen-mother thought it to their interest toseem friendly to our Henri, they ordered Marguerite to Nerac. Catherineherself came with her, bringing the Flying Squadron, that Henri and hisHuguenots might be seduced into the onesided treaties desired by her. Catherine was one of the few, I think, who foresaw Henri's possiblefuture. Her astrologer, Cosmo Ruggieri, had predicted that he wouldsucceed her three sons to the throne of France, and I suppose she couldnot endure the thought of this. Better a Guise than a Bourbon, the sonof Jeanne d'Albret. But our Henri might be useful to her as aninstrument to check the Duke of Guise in any attempted usurpationduring the life of her son. Therefore, Henri was to be cajoled while hewas being restrained. But he was not fooled into disadvantageouscompacts or concessions. All that he lost was a single town, whichCatherine caused to be attacked while he was at a fête; but he learnedof this at the fête, and retaliated by taking a town of the FrenchKing's on the same night. 

I was presented to Catherine while she was at Nerac. No allusion was madeto the circumstances which had caused my flight from Paris, or, indeed, to my having ever been in Paris. Yet, from her scrutiny of my features, Iknew that she recalled those circumstances with my name. But Nerac wasnot the place where it would serve her to concern herself about me. Ilearned from one of Catherine's gentlemen that Mlle. D'Arency, who hadnot come with her to Nerac, had wedded the Marquis de Pirillaume, who wasjealous and kept her on his estate in Dauphiny, away from the court. Iwished him joy of her. 

When Catherine and her troop went back to the French court, leavingMarguerite at Nerac, they could boast of a few Huguenot gentlemen wonover to their designs, but I was not one of the few. I do not say that Idid not amuse myself where charming women abounded, but I kept my heartto myself. I had not resolved to become invulnerable to woman, but I haddetermined that she by whom I would let myself be wounded should be onevastly unlike any in Catherine's train. When I should find the woman pureas beautiful, incapable of guile, I would love. "Somewhere in France, " Ioften said to myself, "that woman exists. I shall know her when I seeher. " As in the former affair, I had my ideal already formed, and wasalready in love, watching for the embodiment of that ideal to appear. Butthis second ideal was different from the first. And it is time to tellhow at last I met her, --and how, for a while, the reality seemed worseeven than the first The death of the Duke of Anjou, after hisreconciliation with the King, his brother, and his failure to win thecrown he sought in the Netherlands, was a great event for us in Gascony. It left our Henri of Navarre next in succession to the throne of France. And our Henri was a sturdy man, while Henri III. Seemed marked by destinyto follow the three other sons of Catherine to an early grave. Itappeared that Marguerite monopolized all the longevity granted to thefamily. But we knew that the Guises and their League would not let ourHuguenot Henri peacefully ascend his throne. Therefore, Henri's policywas to strengthen himself against the time when the death of Henri III. Should leave the throne vacant for him. It was his interest also toprevent a usurpation of that throne during the life of Henri III. , forsuch a usurpation would eventually exclude himself also. Thuscircumstance made him the natural ally of Henri III. It was, conversely, the interest of the Guises to sow enmity between the two kings. The powerof the League in France, and particularly in Paris, was now so great thatHenri III. Dared not oppose the wishes of the Duke of Guise. He wasreduced to devices for gaining time. And so, against his own interest, hesanctioned the war which the League presently demanded against theHuguenots, --a war which might do two things for the Duke of Guise:destroy the next heir to the throne, and deprive the present King of hischief resource against a usurpation. For the present, the Duke of Guisecloaked his design by having the Pope proclaim the old Cardinal deBourbon heir to the throne, our Henri being declared ineligible onaccount of heresy. 

In the summer of 1585, the King of France issued anti-Huguenot edictsrequired by the League. Governors of provinces were ordered to make ituncomfortable for the "heretics. " Several of them promptly obeyed, arresting some Huguenots for remaining in their provinces, and arrestingothers for trying to escape therefrom. By this time, Henri of Navarre hadgathered a sufficient army and acquired a sufficient number of towns tohold his own in Guienne, and, indeed, throughout southwestern France. ThePrince de Condé also put a Huguenot army in the field. Pending the actualopening of war, which the edicts of Henri III. Foreshadowed, our Henrimaintained a flying camp in Guienne. Every day recruits came, some ofthem with stories of persecution to which they had been subjected, somewith accounts of difficulty in escaping from their provinces. One day Iwas summoned to the presence of Henri of Navarre. 

"M. De la Tournoire, " said he, speaking with his usual briskness anddirectness, "there are, in most of the provinces of France, manyHuguenots who have publicly recanted, to save their lives and estates. Many of these are secretly for us. They would join me, but they fear todo so lest their estates be confiscated. These are to be assured thatwhat they may lose now by aiding me shall some day be restored to them. Here is a list of a number of such gentlemen in the province of Berry, and you are to give them the assurances necessary to enlist them in ourcause. Use what persuasions you can. Take your company, and find someplace of concealment among the hills of the southern border of Berry. Youcan thus provide escort in crossing the border for those who may need it. Where you can in any way aid a Huguenot to escape from the province, where you can rescue one from death or prison, do so, always on conditionof promised service in our cause. As for the gentlemen whose names are onthis list, have them bring, as contributions, what money and arms theycan. We are in even greater need of these than of men. Impress upon thesegentlemen that their only hope of ultimate security lies in our triumph. It is a task of danger with which I charge you, monsieur, and I know thatyou will, therefore, the more gladly undertake it. The governor of Berry, M. De la Chatre, is one of the bulwarks of the League. I learn that he isenforcing the edicts of Henri III. Against the Protestants with thegreatest zeal. He is devoted to the Duke of Guise, and is one of our mostformidable enemies. It will not, therefore, be well for you to fall intohis hands. Go, monsieur, and God be with you!"

I bowed my thanks for the favor of this dangerous mission, and wentaway with the list in my doublet, proud of having been made theconfidant of Henri's resolution to fight for his rights to the end. Iwas elated, too, at the opportunity to work against the King of Franceand the Duke of Guise. 

To annoy and hamper M. De la Chatre in his work of carrying out thepublic edicts of the King and the secret designs of the Duke, would giveme the keenest joy. For once, both my great enemies, usually so opposedto each other in interest, could be injured at the same time by the samedeeds; and such deeds would help my beloved captain, by whom I had beenchosen to perform them. I could hardly contain my happiness when Ireturned to my company, and ordered immediate preparations for a night'smarch northward. 

We set out, myself and Tripault mounted, the others afoot, with severalhorses bearing provisions and supplies. Marching at night, and concealingourselves in the forests by day, we at last reached the mountains thatform part of the southern boundary of Berry. They were thickly wooded, and though the month of August made them a series of masses of deepgreen, they presented a sombre aspect. 

"It is somewhere up there, " I said, pointing toward the still andfrowning hills before us, "that we are to find a burrow, from which toissue forth, now and then, to the plains on the other side. "

"The only man in the company who knows this country, " replied my devotedsquire, Blaise Tripault, "is Frojac, but he makes up for the ignorance ofthe others by knowing it very well. He can lead us to the most desertedspot among these mountains, where there is an abandoned château, which issaid to be under a curse. "

"If part of it is under a roof as well, so much the better, " I answered. "Bring Frojac to me. "

Blaise rode back along the irregular line formed by my rude soldiers, picked out an intelligent looking young arquebusier, and led him forwardto me. I made this man, Frojac, our guide. 

After toilsome marches, forcing our way up wooded ascents devoid of humanhabitation, and through almost impenetrable thickets of brushwood, wecrossed the highest ridge of the mountain chain, and from a bare spot, anatural clearing, gazed down on the Creuse, which wound along the lineformed by the northern base of the mountains. Beyond that lay theprovince of Berry, which was to be the scene of our operations. Someleagues to the northeast, crowning a rocky eminence that rose from theleft bank of the Creuse, stood a mass of grim-looking towers and highgray walls. From the southern side of this edifice, a small town ran downthe declivity to the plain. 

"What is that place yonder?" I asked. 

"It is the town and château of Clochonne, " said Frojac. 

"Who occupies the château?"

"It belongs to M. De la Chatre, the governor of the province, whosometimes comes there. A part of it is occupied by a garrison. "

We resumed our progress through the forest, now descending the northernslope of the ridge. After some hours, when night was already beginning tofall in the woods, Frojac pointed ahead to a knoll covered with hugetrees between whose trunks the space was choked with lesser vegetation. 

"There it is, " he said. "The Château de Maury. "

We made our way through the thicket, and came suddenly upon ruined walls, rising in the midst of trees. Wild growths of various kinds filled upwhat had been the courtyard, and invaded the very doors. The broken wallsand cracked towers themselves seemed as much a part of nature as thetrees and bushes were. Branches thrust themselves through apertures inthe crumbling stone. Southward from the foot of the knoll rose themountains, eastward and westward extended an undulating natural platformthat interrupted the descent of the mountain side. Northward the groundfell in a steep precipice to the left bank of the Creuse, along which rana little-used road from Clochonne, which was northeast, to Narjec, whichwas southwest. 

"Is there a path down the slope, by which we could reach that road, should we wish to go north by way of Clochonne?" I asked. 

"I do not think so, " replied Frojac. "But there used to be a road fromhere to Clochonne, through the forest. It has not been used since theSieur de Maury left, twenty years ago, to hunt for gold in the new world. They said that, before going, he made a compact with the devil, here, bywhich Satan was to lead him to a land of gold across the sea. The devilis believed to be taking care of his estate until he returns. Perhapsthis road has not been entirely wiped out by the forest. "

A part of the château was yet under roof. This portion included the halland three or four chambers above it. On the day after our arrival, wefound the road through the forest still sufficiently open to serve us forexpeditious egress. This abandoned way did not itself go to Clochonne, but it ran into a road that went from that town southward across themountain. At the point of junction was the abode of an old woodman andhis wife, where the couple maintained a kind of inn for theentertainment of people crossing the mountain. This man, Godeau, wasrheumatic, bent, thin, timid, shrill-voiced, and under the domination ofhis large, robust, strong-lunged spouse, Marianne. By means of a littleflattery, a gold piece, promises of patronage, and hints of direvengeance upon any who might betray me, I secured this woman's completedevotion. These two were the only human dwellers within two leagues ofour chosen hiding-place. 

In Guienne, my master considered as enemies those who did not acknowledgehis authority, and he provisioned his army at their expense. Inasmuch asthe province of Berry was making war on our party, I treated it ashostile country, subject to pillage, according to the customs of war. Itis true, some of its people were friendly to our cause, but it was asmuch their duty to contribute to our maintenance, since we were fightingin their behalf, as it was our right to take from those to whom ourrelation was one of warfare. So I gave my men permission to forage, putting but one condition upon them, --that of losing their lives ratherthan allow our hiding-place to be disclosed. Thus, by virtue of manynightly visits to farms in the vicinity of Clochonne and Narjec, wecontrived to avoid the pangs of an empty stomach. 

Having established my company on a living basis at Maury, I began withrelish the work of annoying M. De la Chatre. I sent out certain of mymen, severally, to different parts of southern Berry as seekers ofinformation. In the guise of peasants, or of soldiers going to serve inthe army which the Governor, La Chatre, was then augmenting, they learnedmuch that was valuable to me. It is written, under the title of "How theLord Protected His Own and Chastised His Enemies in Berry, " in the bookcalled "The Manifold Mercies of God to His Children, " by the pastorLaudrec, who has reported rightly what I related to him: how we maderecruits for Henri of Navarre by finding out Huguenots in towns andvillages and convincing them that they were sure to be arrested shouldthey remain in Berry; how we guided these out of the province by variousways of our own discovery, across the mountain; how we interrupted thehanging of several men at Issoudun, who had been condemned for heresy andtreason, and sent them in safety to Guienne; how certain of my men, without my authority, despoiled Catholic churches of their instruments ofidolatry, and thus helped to replenish the treasury of our master; how Ionce marched my company by night to a wood near Bourges, lay in waitthere until a guard came, conducting captured Huguenots for trial, attacked the guard, rescued the prisoners, and protected them in ahurried flight to the border, whence they proceeded to swell the army ofour Henri; and how we served our cause in numerous other exploits, whichI need not relate here, as you may read them in Laudrec's book, printedin Geneva. 

The many secret departures of Huguenots from southern Berry, despite thevigilance of the garrisons at Clochonne and other frontier strongholds, must naturally have attracted the attention of the authorities, and somust the sudden public appearances that I made with my company onoccasions like that at Issoudun and that near Bourges. My men, who moved, unknown, among the people, began to hear reports of a mysterious captainwho hid in the southern hills and sallied forth at night to spiritHuguenots away. To this mysterious captain and his band were attributednot only all the exploits that we did accomplish, but many that we didnot; and some daring robberies, of which we were innocent, were laid toour charge. 

Finally, in September, I had evidence that our deeds had begun to make animpression on M. De la Chatre, the illustrious governor of the provinceand of the Orleannais as well. One of my men, Roquelin, saw in themarket-place of Chateauroux an offer of five hundred crowns for thecapture of this unknown rebel captain, which document was signed by LaChatre. I here saw an opportunity to make myself known in high places asone capable of harming and defying his enemies, despite their greatness. I was rejoiced at the hope of acquainting the Duke of Guise and the Kingof France with the fact that I had survived to work defiantly againsttheir cause, under the very nose of one of their most redoubtableservants. I had not been of sufficient consequence for the Duke to fear, or for the King to protect, but now I was of sufficient consequence, astheir enemy, for a price to be put on my head. So I sent one of my cleverfellows, Sabray, to fasten by night beside La Chatre's placard inChateauroux, a proclamation of my own, in which I offered ten crowns forthe head of M. De la Chatre, and twenty crowns for that of his master, the Duke of Guise. I appended this signature: "The Sieur de la Tournoire, who does not forget. " I knew that some of La Chatre's enemies would takegreat pleasure in making this known to the Duke of Guise, and that thelatter would reproach the King with my continued existence. It irritatesthe great to be defied by the small, and to irritate these two great oneswas my delight. 

I soon learned, with glee, that my return of compliments had reached theknowledge of the governor. Maugert brought me word of a notice posted inClochonne, in which La Chatre doubled his offer and termed me the"heretic, rebel, traitor, and robber calling himself Sieur de laTournoire. "

While I gave myself the pleasure of annoying M. De la Chatre, I did notneglect the more important service imposed on me by Henri of Navarre. Accompanied only by Blaise Tripault, and travelling by night, I visited, one after another, the gentlemen named on my master's list, and usedwhat eloquence I had, pointing out the expediency of assuring futuresecurity by making present sacrifices for our cause. Many of themrequired very little persuasion. On hearing that Henri of Navarre hadgiven his word to defend his succession with his sword, they nobly lefttheir estates and went to join his army, carrying with them what moneyand arms they could take. Thanks to the guidance of my men, they eludedthe garrisons on the border. 

It was in early October, when the forests were turning yellow, brown, andred, and the fallen leaves began to lie in the roads, that I started outwith Blaise Tripault to visit the gentleman named last on the list. 

"Monsieur, " said Blaise, as we neared the end of our hidden forest roadand were approaching the inn of Godeau, "I have in me a kind of feelingthat this, being our last excursion, is likely to be the most dangerous. It would doubtless please Fortune to play us an ugly trick after havingserved us so well hitherto. "

"Nonsense!" I replied. 

"I believe that is what the famous Bussy d'Amboise said when he waswarned not to keep his appointment with Mme. De Monsoreau, " returnedBlaise; "yet he was, none the less, killed by the rascals that lay inambush with her husband. "

"Thanks to the most kingly King of France, Henri III. , who advised M. DeMonsoreau to force his wife to make the fatal appointment with Bussy. Thanks, also, to the truly grateful Duke of Anjou, who rewarded Bussy forhis faithful service by concurring in the plot for his assassination. "

"The Duke was worse than the King, for the King has been loyal to hischosen favorites. Think of the monument he erected in honor of De Quelus, and the others who got their deaths in that great duel in thehorse-market. _Par dieu!_ I should like to have seen those girl-men ofthe King and those Guisards killing one another!"

"I have observed, Blaise, that you take an extraordinary pleasure in theslaughter of Guisards. "

"I was in Coligny's house, monsieur, on the night of the St. Bartholomew. I was one of those who, at the Admiral's command, fled to the roof, andfrom the roof of the next house I saw Coligny's body thrown into hiscourtyard, and the Duke of Guise turn it over with his foot and wipe theblood from the face to see if it were indeed my old captain's. Sincethen, the sight of the white cross of Guise stirs in me all the hell thatmy diabolical father transmitted to me. And I should not like to see youfall into the hands of this Chatre, who is the right arm of the Duke ofGuise in Berry. That is why I give heed to the premonition that troublesme regarding this journey. "

"Certainly we cannot abandon the journey. "

"No, but we can take unusual precautions, monsieur. Reports of our doingsare everywhere. Has it never occurred to you that you are, in appearance, exactly the sort of man who would be taken for our leader? Ought you notto disguise yourself?"

"An excellent idea, Blaise! I shall put on your clothes, and you shallput on mine, --I shall pass as your lackey. It will be quite amusing. "

"That is not the disguise I should have suggested, " said Blaise, lookingnot too well pleased with the idea. "It would require me to pass as agentleman. "

But I saw possibilities of fun in the thing, and welcomed any means ofenlivening our excursion. Therefore, we dismounted at Godeau's inn, andmade the exchange of attire, much against the liking of Blaise, who nowrepented of having advised any disguise at all. My clothes were a littletoo tight for Blaise, for I was of medium size, and he puffed and turnedred in the face, and presented a curious appearance of fierceness anddiscomfort. When I looked at him, I could not help laughing, and he metmy glance with a grim and reproachful countenance. I did not think thathis brown doublet and breeches and brown felt hat and feather were muchdisguise for me. As we rode along, I diverted myself by trying to assumea servile mien, which did not easily fit my rather bold face, prominentnose, keen gray eyes, up-curling brown mustache and pointed brown beard. With his curly reddish hair and beard, defiant mustache, honest, big, blue eyes, swelling red cheeks, and robust body, Blaise looked like onewho must have had his dignities thrust upon him very recently. 

We reached, without accident, our destination, --the château of the Barond'Equinay, --and that gentleman was speedily won by the assurances that Ibore him from Henri of Navarre. He desired, before starting for Guienne, to go to Paris, where he had resources, and he rode off northward at thesame moment when we departed southward to return to Maury. 

"It is well!" I cried to Blaise, as we rode in the bracing air of theOctober morning. "We have carried our King's message to every one of hischosen adherents in Berry. We ride through the province of M. De laChatre, breathe his fresh air, absorb his sunshine as freely as he doeshimself. You see how reliable were your premonitions when we last set outfrom Maury. "

"It is not too late yet, monsieur, " growled Blaise, whose temper was illwhile he wore my clothes; "we are not yet back at Maury. "

"You will talk less dismally over a bottle of good wine, Blaise. Therefore, I intend to stop at the first inn on the way. I hope it is agood one, for I am very hungry. "

"There is an inn at this end of Fleurier, " said Blaise, "but I would notstop if I were you. "

But I was not to be moved from my intention. When a man has finished aset task, it is time to eat and drink. Therefore, we stopped at thelittle inn at the northern edge of Fleurier. A gray, bent innkeeper, verydesirous of pleasing, welcomed us and went to look after our horses, while Blaise, acting the part of master, ordered a black-eyed, prettyinn-maid to serve us dinner in a private chamber. The room assigned uswas at the head of a stairway leading from the kitchen. We had no soonerseated ourselves than our ears were assailed by the clatter of manyhorses on the road outside. They stopped before the inn, and we heard thevoices of two men who entered the kitchen, and of a great number whoremained without. When the inn-maid brought us a bottle of wine, Blaiseasked her whose cavalcade it was that waited before the inn. 

"It is that of the governor of the province, M. De la Chatre, " said she, "who is below with his secretary, M. De Montignac. "

And she left the room in haste to help serve so distinguished a guest. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

A SWEET LADY IN DISTRESS

Blaise looked at me solemnly, with a face that seemed to say, "Did I notwarn you?" We had seated ourselves at either side of a small, roughtable, I on the edge of the bed, Blaise on a three-legged stool. For amoment I sat returning Blaise's gaze across the table; then noticing thatthe maid had left the door of our chamber slightly ajar, I arose andwalked stealthily to the crack, through which I could see a part of thekitchen below. Blaise remained seated at the table, glumly watching me. 

I saw the maid bearing wine to a table near the window, where sat the twoguests whose names she had mentioned. The landlord was carrying a trayfull of bottles and drinking-cups out to La Chatre's men, who remainedbefore the inn, some having dismounted, some still on horse. I could heartheir talk, their oaths and cries to one another and to their horses, thesnorts and pawings of their steeds. A shout of welcome greeted the comingof the landlord with the wine. 

With curiosity I fastened my gaze on the two at the table. I knewinstantly that the stout, erect, authoritative gentleman with thecarefully trimmed gray beard, full cheeks, proud brow, fearless eyes, andsoldierly air, must be Claude de la Chatre, governor of the Orleannaisand Berri; and that the slender, delicately formed, sinuous, gracefulyouth with smooth-shaven face, fine sharply cut features, intelligentforehead, reddish hair, intent gray eyes, and mien of pretended humility, was the governor's secretary, Montignac. La Chatre's look was frank, open, brave. Montignac had the face of a man assuming a character, andawaiting his opportunity, concealing his ambition and his pride, suppressing the scorn that strove to disclose itself at the corners ofhis womanish mouth. La Chatre wore a rich black velvet doublet andbreeches, and black leather riding-boots. Montignac was dressed, inaccordance with his pretence of servility, in a doublet of olive-coloredcloth, breeches of the same material, and buff boots. He sat entirelymotionless, looking across the table at his master with an almostimperceptibly mocking air of profound attention. 

Monsieur de la Chatre appeared to be in a bad humor. He gulped down hiswine hastily, seeming not to taste it. With a frown of irritation hedrew from his belt a letter, of which the seal was already broken. Opening it with quick, angry motions, he held it before him, andfrowned the more deeply. 

"_Peste!"_ he exclaimed, when the maid had left the kitchen; and then hewent on in a rich, virile, energetic voice: "To be met on the road bysuch a letter! When I saw the courier in the distance I felt that he wasbound for me, and that he brought annoyance with him. The duke has neverbefore used such a tone to me. If he were on the ground, and knew thetrouble these dogs of heretics give me, he would doubtless change hismanner of speech. "

"Monseigneur the Duke of Guise certainly wrote in haste, and thereforehis expressions have an abruptness that he did not intend, " repliedMontignac, in a low, discreet, deferential voice, whose very tone wasattuned to the policy of subtle flattery which he employed towards hismaster. "And he acknowledges, as well, your many successes as hecomplains of your failure to catch this Sieur de la Tournoire. "

So the letter by which the governor was so irritated came from the Dukeof Guise, and concerned myself! My work in Berri had not been in vain. Instinctively I grasped the hilt of my sword, and at the same time Ismiled to myself to think how La Chatre might have felt had he knownthat, while himself and his secretary were the only persons in the innkitchen, the Sieur de la Tournoire saw and heard them from the crack ofthe slightly open door at the top of the stairway. To make myself saferfrom discovery, I now took my eye from the crack, keeping my earsufficiently near to catch the words of my enemies. I glanced at Blaise, who had heard enough to acquaint him with the situation, and whoseopen-eyed face had taken on an expression of alertness and amazementcomical to behold. He, too, had mechanically clutched the handle of hissword. Neither of us moving or speaking, we both listened. But thegovernor's next words were drowned by the noise that came from outside, as the landlord opened the front door to reenter the inn. La Chatre'smen, now supplied with wine, had taken up a song with whose words andtune we were well acquainted. 

"Hang every heretic high, Where the crows and pigeons pass!Let the brood of Calvin die; Long live the mass!A plague on the Huguenots, ah! Let the cry of battle ring:Huguenots, Huguenots, Huguenots, ah! Long live the king!"

The singers uttered the word "Huguenots, " and the exclamation "ah, " withan expression of loathing and scorn which could have been equalled onlyby the look of defiance and hate that suddenly alighted on the face ofBlaise. He gave a deep gulp, as if forcing back, for safety, someanswering cry that rose from his breast and sought exit. Then he groundhis teeth, and through closed lips emitted from his throat a low growl, precisely like that of a pugnacious dog held in restraint. 

The landlord closed the door, and the song of La Chatre's men sank into arudely melodious murmur. The host then went out by a rear door, and thegovernor resumed the conversation. 

"_Corboeuf_! He is a fox, this Tournoire, who makes his excursions bynight, and who cannot be tracked to his burrow. "

"We know, at least, " put in the secretary, in his mild way, "that hisburrow is somewhere in the wooded mountains at the southern border of theprovince. "

"Then he knows those mountains better than the garrisons do, " saidLa Chatre. "The troops from the southern towns have hunted thehills in vain. "

"When such a task as the capture of this rebel is entrusted to many, itis not undertaken with zeal. The chance of success, the burden ofresponsibility, the blame of failure, are alike felt to be divided. "

This observation on the part of the youthful secretary seemed to beregarded by the governor as presumptuous. It elicited from him a frownof reproof. His look became cold and haughty. Whereupon Montignacgently added:

"As you, monsieur, remarked the other day. "

La Chatre's expression immediately softened. 

"The governor's brains are in the head of the secretary, " thought I; "andtheir place in his own head is taken by vanity. "

"I remember, " returned La Chatre. "And I added, did I not, that--ahem, that--"

"That the finding of this Huguenot nuisance ought to be made theparticular duty of one chosen person, who should have all to gain bysuccess, or, better still, all to lose by failure. "

And the suave secretary looked at his master with an expression of secretcontempt and amusement, although the innocent governor doubtless saw onlythe respect and solicitude which the young man counterfeited. 

"You are right, " said the governor, with unconcealed satisfaction. "Iought to reward you for reminding me. But your reward shall come, Montignac. The coming war will give me the opportunity to serve both theKing and the Duke of Guise most effectually, and by whatever favor Igain, my faithful secretary shall benefit. "

"My benefit will be due to your generosity, not to my poor merit, monsieur, " replied Montignac, with an irony too delicate for theperception of the noble governor. 

"Oh, you have merit, Montignac, " said La Chatre, with loftycondescension. Then he glanced at the letter, and his face clouded. "Butmeanwhile, " he added, in obedience to a childish necessity ofcommunicating his troubles, "my favor depends, even for its continuancein its present degree, on the speedy capture of this Tournoire. Therascal appears to have obtained the special animosity of the Duke bysome previous act. Moreover, he is an enemy to the King, also a deserterfrom the French Guards, so that he deserves death on various accounts, old and new. "

Herein I saw exemplified the inability of the great to forget or forgiveany who may have eluded their power. 

"Let me, therefore, " continued the governor, "consider as to what personshall be chosen for the task of bagging this wary game. "

And he was silent, seeming to be considering in his mind, but really, Ithought, waiting for the useful Montignac to suggest some one. 

"It need not be a person of great skill, " said Montignac, "if it be onewho has a strong motive for accomplishing the service with success. For, indeed, the work is easy. The chosen person, " he went on, as if takingpleasure in showing the rapidity and ingenuity of his own thoughts, "hasbut to go to the southern border, pretending to be a Huguenot trying toescape the penalties of the new edicts. In one way or another, by movingamong the lower classes, this supposed fugitive will find out realHuguenots, of whom there are undoubtedly some still left at Clochonne andother towns near the mountains. Several circumstances have shown thatthis Tournoire has made himself, or his agents, accessible to Huguenots, for these escapes of heretics across the border began at the same timewhen his rescues of Huguenot prisoners began. Without doubt, anypretended Protestant, apparently seeking guidance to Guienne, would, inassociating with the Huguenots along the Creuse, come across one whocould direct him to this Tournoire. "

"But what then?" said the governor, his eagerness making him forget hispretence of being wiser than his secretary. "To find him is not to makehim prisoner, --for the Duke desires him to be taken alive. He probablyhas a large following of rascals as daring and clever as himself. "

"Knowing his hiding-place, you would send a larger body of troopsagainst him. "

"But, " interposed the governor, really glad to have found a weak point inthe plan suggested by his secretary, "in order to acquaint me with hishiding-place, if he has a permanent hiding-place, my spy would have toleave him. This would excite his suspicions, and he would change hishiding-place. Or, indeed, he may be entirely migratory, and have nofixed place of camping. Or, having one, he might change it, for anyreason, before my troops could reach it. Doubtless, his followers patrolthe hills, and could give him ample warning in case of attack. "

"Your spy, " said Montignac, who had availed himself of the governor'sinterruption to empty a mug of wine, "would have to find means of doingtwo things, --the first to make an appointment with La Tournoire, whichwould take him from his men; the second, to inform you of thatappointment in time for you to lead or send a company of soldiers tosurprise La Tournoire at the appointed place. "

"_Par dieu_, Montignac!" cried the governor, with a laugh of derision. "Drink less wine, I pray you! Your scheme becomes preposterous. Of whatkind of man do you take him to be, this Sieur de la Tournoire, who offersa reward, in my own province, for my head and that of the Duke of Guise?"

"The scheme, monsieur, " said Montignac, quietly, not disclosing to thegovernor the slightest resentment at the latter's ridicule, "is quitepracticable. This is the manner in which it can be best conducted. Yourchosen spy must be provided with two messengers, with whom he may havecommunication as circumstances may allow. When the spy shall have met LaTournoire, and learned his hiding-place, if he have a permanent one, onemessenger shall bring the information to you at Bourges, that you maygo to Clochonne to be near at hand for the final step. Having sent thefirst messenger, the spy shall fall ill, so as to have apparent reasonfor not going on to Guienne. On learning of your arrival atClochonne, --an event of which La Tournoire is sure to be informed, --yourspy shall make the appointment of which I spoke, and shall send thesecond messenger to you at Clochonne with word of that appointment, sothat your troops can be at hand. "

"The project is full of absurdities, Montignac, " said the governor, shaking his head. 

"Enumerate them, monsieur, " said Montignac, without change of tone orcountenance. 

"First, the lesser one. Why impede the spy with the necessity ofcommunicating with more than one messenger?"

"Because the spy may succeed in learning the enemy's hiding-place, ifthere be one, and yet fail in the rest of the design. To learn hishiding-place is at least something worth gaining, though the projectaccomplish nothing more. Moreover, the arrival of the first messengerwill inform you that the spy is on the ground and has won La Tournoire'sconfidence, and that it is time for you to go to Clochonne. Theappointment must not be made until you are near at hand, for greatexactness must be observed as to time and place, so that you can surelysurprise him while he is away from his men. "

"Montignac, I begin to despair of you, " said the governor, with a lookof commiseration. "How do you suppose that La Tournoire could be inducedto make such an appointment? What pretext could be invented forrequesting such a meeting? In what business could he be interested thatwould require a secret interview at a distance from his followers?"

I thought the governor's questions quite natural, and was waiting in muchcuriosity for the answer of Montignac, of whose perspicacity I was nowbeginning to lose my high opinion, when the inn-maid entered the kitchen, and the secretary repressed the reply already on his lips. She took fromthe spit a fowl that had been roasting, and brought it to our chamber. Toavoid exciting her suspicions I had to leave my place of observation andreseat myself on the bed. 

Having placed the fowl, hot and juicy, on the table between us, the maidwent away, again leaving the door partly open. Blaise promptly attackedthe fowl, but I returned to my post of outlook. 

"Lack of zeal?" I heard the governor say. "_Par-dieu, _ where have Ilet a known Huguenot rest in peace in my provinces since the edictshave been proclaimed? And I have even made Catholics suffer forShowing a disposition to shield heretics. There was that gentleman ofthis very town--"

"M. De Varion, " put in Montignac. 

"Ay, M. De Varion, --a good Catholic. Yet I caused his arrest because hehid his old friend, that Polignart, who had turned heretic. _Mon dieu_, what can I do more? I punish not only heretics, but also those who shieldheretics. Yet the Duke of Guise hints that I lack zeal!"

"As to M. De Varion, " said Montignac; "what is your intentionregarding him?"

"To make an example of him, that hereafter no Catholic will dare sheltera Huguenot on the score of old friendship. Let him remain a prisoner inthe château of Fleurier until the judges, whom I will instruct, shallfind him guilty of treason. Then his body shall hang at the château gatefor the nourishment of the crows. "

"Fortunately, " said Montignac listlessly, "he has no family to givetrouble afterward. "

"No son, " replied the governor. "Did not M. De Brissard say that therewas a daughter?"

"Yes, an unmarried daughter who was visiting some bourgeois relation inBourges at the time of her father's arrest. "

"When she learns of her father's incarceration she will probably pesterme with supplications for his release. See to it, Montignac, that thisMlle. De Varion be not suffered to approach me. "

My eavesdropping was again interrupted by the return of the inn-maid. Ongoing out of the chamber this time, she closed the door. Hunger andprudence, together, overcoming my curiosity, I did not open it, butjoined Blaise in disposing of the dinner. The table at which we ate wasnear the window of the chamber, and we could look out on the grassy spaceof land before the inn. La Chatre's men were moving about, looking totheir horses and harness, talking in little groups, and watching fortheir master's appearance at the inn door. 

Presently four new figures came into view, all mounted. From our windowwe could see them plainly as they approached the inn. One of thesenewcomers was a young lady who wore a mask. At her side rode a maid, slim, youthful, and fresh-looking. Behind these were two serving boys, one tall, large, and strong; the other small and agile. 

"By the blue heaven!" Blaise blurted out; "a dainty piece of womankind!"

"Silence, Blaise!" I said, reprovingly. "How dare you speak with suchliberty of a lady?"

"I thought I was supposed to be masquerading as a gentleman, " he growled. "But it was not of the lady that I spoke. It was the maid. "

The lady had the slender figure of a woman of twenty. Over atight-fitting gown of blue cloth, she wore a cloak of brown velvet, whichwas open at the front. Fine, wavy brown hair was visible beneath herlarge brown velvet hat. She wore brown gloves and carried a riding whip. As for her face, her black mask concealed the upper part, but there weredisclosed a delicate red mouth and a finely cut chin. The throat waswhite and full. 

The maid was smaller than the mistress. She had a pretty face, ratherbold blue eyes, an impudent little mouth, an expression ofself-confidence and challenge. 

La Chatre's men made room for this little cavalcade to pass to the inn. The maid looked at them disdainfully, but the lady glanced neither toright nor left. Having ridden up close to the inn, they dismounted andentered, thus passing out of our sight. 

I would fain have again looked down into the kitchen, now that theseattractive guests had arrived to disturb the governor's confidentialtalk, but the inn-maid had closed our chamber door tight, and I mighthave attracted the governor's attention by opening it. Moreover, I couldnot long cherish the idea of watching, unobserved, the movements of alady. So, for some time, Blaise and I confined our attention to thedinner, Blaise frequently casting a glance at the door as if he wouldhave liked to go down-stairs and make a closer inspection of the prettyface of the maid. 

Several times we heard voices, now that of a lady, now that of thegovernor, as if the two were conversing together, but the words spokenwere not distinguishable. It did not please me to think that the ladymight have come hither to join the governor. 

At last the noise of La Chatre's men remounting told us that the governorhad rejoined them from the inn. Looking out of the window, we saw him attheir head, a splendid, commanding figure. Montignac, studious-looking, despite the horse beneath him, was beside the governor. I noticed thatthe secretary sat a horse as well as any of the soldiers did. I observed, too, and with pleasure, that the lady was not with them; therefore, shewas still in the inn. I was glad to infer that her acquaintance with LaChatre was but casual, and that her meeting with him at the inn had beenby chance. 

The governor jerked his rein, and the troop moved off, northward, bound Iknew not whither, the weapons and harness shining in the sunlight. Iturned to Blaise with a smile of triumph. 

"And now what of your croakings?" I asked. "As if the safest place in allFrance for us was not within sound of M. De la Chatre's voice, where hewould never suppose us to be! It did not even occur to him to ask whatguests were in the upper chamber! What would he have given to know thatLa Tour noire sat drinking under the same roof with him! Instead ofcoming to disaster, we have heard his plans, and are thus put on ourguard. More of your evil forebodings, my amiable Blaise! They mean good. "

But Blaise looked none the less gloomy. "There is yet time for evil tocome of this journey, my captain, " he said gravely. 

I now made haste to finish my meal, that I might go down into the kitchenere the lady in the brown robe should depart. 

Presently, Blaise, glancing out of the window, exclaimed, "The devil! Weare not yet rid of our friends! There is one of them, at least!"

I looked out and saw two mounted gentlemen, one of whom was Montignac, the governor's secretary, who had ridden back. The other, with whom hewas talking in low tones, and with an air of authority, was a man ofmy own age, dressed in the shabby remains of rich clothes. His faceshowed the marks of dissipation, and had a cynical, daredevil look. Now and then a sarcastic smile broke suddenly over the handsome andonce noble features. 

"I have seen that man, somewhere, before, " said I to Blaise. 

While I stood searching my memory, and the man sat talking to Montignac, both having stopped their horses in front of the inn, there tramped up, from the South, four other travellers, all of a kind very commonly seenon the highways, in those days of frequent war. They were ragged soldiersof fortune, out at elbows, red of cheek and nose, all having the samelook of brow-beating defiance, ready to turn, in a moment, into abjectservility. The foremost of these was a big burly fellow with a blackbeard, and a fierce scowl. 

As he came up towards the gentleman with whom Montignac was talking, there suddenly came on me a sense of having once, in the dim past, beenin strangely similar circumstances to those in which I was now. Once, long ago, had I not looked out in danger from a place of concealment upona meeting of those two men before an inn?

The burly rascal saluted the mounted gentleman, saying, in a coarse, strident voice:

"At your service, M. Le Vicomte de Berquin. "

"Know your place, Barbemouche!" was the quick reply. "I am talking with agentleman. "

Then I remembered the morning after my flight from Paris, seven yearsbefore. Montignac's reckless-looking companion had been the gay gentlemangoing north, at whom I had looked from an inn shed. The other was the manwho had afterwards chased me southward at the behest of the Duke ofGuise. But he no longer wore on his hat the white cross of Lorraine, andthe Vicomte de Berquin's apparel was no longer gay and spotless. The twohad doubtless fallen on hard ways. Both showed the marks of reverses andhard drinking. Barbemouche's sword was, manifestly, no longer in the payof the Duke of Guise, but was ready to serve the first bidder. 

Barbemouche shrugged his shoulders at De Berquin's reproof, and led histhree sorry-looking companions to a bench in front of the inn, where theysearched their pockets for coin before venturing to cross the threshold. 

Montignac now pointed to the inn, spoke a few last earnest words toBerquin, handed the latter a few gold pieces, cast at him a threateninglook at parting, and galloped off to rejoin M. De la Chatre, whosecavalcade was now out of our sight. De Berquin gave him an ironical bow, kissed the gold pieces before pocketing them, dismounted, and entered theinn, replying only with a laugh to the supplicating looks of themoneyless Barbemouche and his hungry-looking comrades on the bench. 

"Now I wonder what in the devil's name the governor's secretary wassaying to that man?" growled Blaise Tripault. 

For reply, I gave a look which reflected the surmise that I saw inBlaise's own eyes. 

"Well, " I said, "if it be that, the Vicomte de Berquin will be a vastlyingenious gentleman if he can either find our hiding-place, or delude meaway from my men. To think that they should have chosen the firstmercenary wretch they met on their way! Yet doubtless the perspicaciousMontignac knows his man. "

"The secretary pointed to this inn as if he were telling him that youwere here, " observed Blaise, meditatively. 

"But inasmuch as the secretary does not know that I am here, " said I, "his pointing to the inn could not have accompanied that information. Hewas doubtless advising his friend to begin his enterprise with a heartymeal, which was very good advice. And now, as this Vicomte de Berquindoes not know me by sight, let us go down and make his acquaintance. Remember that you are the master, and make a better pretence of it thanyou have usually made. "

"I pretend the master no worse than you pretend the servant, " mutteredBlaise, while I opened the door of our chamber. A moment later we weredescending the stairs leading to the kitchen. 

An unexpected sight met our eyes. M. De Berquin stood with his back to arear door, his arms extended, as if to prevent the departure of the lady, who stood facing him, in the attitude of shrinking back from him. Shestill wore her mask. Beside her stood her maid, who darted looks ofindignation at the smiling De Berquin. These three were the only ones inthe kitchen. 

"I do not know you, monsieur!" the lady was saying, in a low voice ofgreat beauty. 

"Death of my life! But you shall know me, mademoiselle, " replied DeBerquin, who had not noticed the entrance of myself and Blaise; "for Iintend to guard you from harm on the rest of your journey, whether youwill or not!"

Blaise shot at me a glance of interrogation. To keep up our assumedcharacters, it was for him, not me, to interfere in behalf of this lady;yet he dared not act without secret direction from me. But I forgot ourpretence and hastened forward, my hand on my sword-hilt. 

"I fear monsieur is annoying mademoiselle, " I said, gently, assuming thatDe Berquin had been correct in addressing her as mademoiselle. 

Startled at the voice of a newcomer, the three turned and looked at me insurprise. Blaise, at a loss as to what he ought to do, remained in thebackground. 

"But, " I added, "monsieur will not do so again for the present. "

De Berquin took me in at a glance, and, deceived by my dress, saidcarelessly, "Go to the devil!" Then, turning from me to Blaise, as oneturns from an inferior to an equal, he remarked:

"You have a most impudent servant, monsieur!"

Blaise, embarrassed by the situation, and conscious that the curious eyesof the lady and the maid were upon him, could only shrug his shoulders inreply. The maid, whom he had so much admired, turned to her mistress witha look of astonishment at his seeming indifference. Seeing this, Blaisebecame very red in the face. 

It was I who answered De Berquin, and with the words:

"And your servant, if you have one, has a most impudent master. "

De Berquin turned pale with rage at the insulting allusion to hissomewhat indigent appearance. 

"Your master shall answer for your impertinence!" he cried, drawing hissword and making for Blaise. 

In an instant my own sword was out, and I was barring his way. 

"Let _us_ argue the matter, monsieur!" said I. 

"_Peste_!" he hissed. "I fight not lackeys!"

"You will fight _me_, " I said, "or leave the presence of this lady atonce!"

Impelled by uncontrollable wrath, he thrust at me furiously. With atimely twist, I sent his sword flying from his hand to the door. Imotioned him to follow it. 

Completely astonished, he obeyed my gesture, went and picked up hissword, opened the door, and then turned to Blaise and spoke these words, in a voice that trembled with rage:

"Monsieur, since you let your menial handle your sword for you, I cannothope for satisfaction. But though I am no great prophet, I can predictthat both you and your cur shall yet feel the foot of _my_ lackey on yournecks. And, mademoiselle, " he added, removing his look to the lady, "thisis not the end of it with you!"

With which parting threats, he strode out of the inn, closing the doorafter him. 

Blaise, deprived by his false position of the power of speech, stoodwith frowning brow and puffed-out cheeks, nervously clutching at hissword-hilt. The lady and her maid looked at him with curiosity, as ifa gentleman who would stand idly and speechlessly by, while hisservant resented an insult to a lady, was a strange being, to beviewed with wonder. 

"Mademoiselle, " said I, laying my sword on a table, "heaven is kind to mein having led me where I might have the joy of serving you. "

The lady, whose musical voice had the sound of sadness in it, answeredwith the graciousness warranted by the occasion:

"My good man, your sword lifts you above your degree, even, " and here sheglanced at Blaise, and continued in a tone of irrepressible contempt, "asthe tameness of some gentlemen lowers them beneath theirs. "

Blaise, from whose nature tameness was the attribute farthest removed, looked first at the lady, in helpless bewilderment, then at me, with mutereproach for having placed him in his ridiculous position, and lastly atthe maid, who regarded him with open derision. To be laughed at by thispiquant creature, to whose charms he had been so speedily susceptible, was the crowning misery. His expression of woe was such that I could noteasily retain my own serious and respectful countenance. 

Having to make some answer to the lady, I said:

"An opportunity to defend so fair a lady would elevate the most ignoble. "

The lady, not being accustomed to exchanging compliments with aman-servant, went to her maid and talked with her in whispers, the twoboth gazing at Blaise with expressions of mirth. 

Blaise strode to my side with an awkwardness quite new to him. His facewas in a violent perspiration. 

"The devil!" he whispered. "How they laugh at me! Won't you explain?"

"Impossible!"

"I object to being taken for a calf, " said Blaise, ready to burst withanger. Then, suddenly reaching the limit of his endurance, he faced thelady and blurted out:

"Mademoiselle, I would have run your pursuer through quickly enough, butI dared not rob my master--"

I coughed a warning against his betraying us. He hesitated, thendespairingly added, in a voice of resignation:

"--my master, the King, of a single stroke of this sword, which I havedevoted entirely to his service. "

"I do not doubt, " said the lady, with cold irony, "that your sword isactive enough when drawn in the service of your King. "

"My King, " replied Blaise with dignity, "had the goodness to make asomewhat similar remark when he took Cahors!"

"Cahors?" repeated the lady in a tone of perplexity. "But the King nevertook Cahors!"

"The King of France, --no!" cried Blaise; "but the King of Navarre did!"

"Blaise!" I cried, in angry reproof at his imprudence. 

The tone in which I spoke had so startled the lady that she dropped hermask, and I saw the sweetest face that ever gladdened the eyes of a man. It was the face of a girl naturally of a cheerful nature, but newly madeacquainted with sorrow. Grief had not rendered the nature, or the face, unresponsive to transient impressions of a pleasant or mirthful kind. Hers was one of those hearts in which grief does not exclude allpossibility of gaiety. Sorrow might lie at the bottom, never forgottenand never entirely concealed, but merriment might ripple on the surface. As for its outlines, the face, in every part, harmonized with the graceand purity of the chin and mouth. Her eyes were blue and large, with aneloquence displayed without intent or consciousness. 

"What does it mean?" she said, in a charming bewilderment. "The servantreproves the master. Ah! I see! The servant _is_ the master. "

And she smiled with pleasure at her discovery. 

"But still _your_ servant, mademoiselle, " was all that I could say. 

Blaise vented a great breath of relief. "I feel better now, " he said, heartily, and he turned with a beaming countenance to the maid, wholooked at his stalwart form and promptly revised her opinion of him. Thetwo were soon in conversation together, at the fireplace, and I was leftto complete explanations with the lady, who did not attempt the coquetryof replacing her mask. 

"Our secret is yours, mademoiselle, and our safety is in your hands. "

"Your secret is safe, monsieur, " she said, modestly averting her eyesfrom my frankly admiring look. "And now I understand why it was you whodrew sword. "

"A privilege too precious to be resigned, " I answered in a low tone, "even for the sake of my secret and my safety. "

My words were spoken so tenderly that she sought relief from hercharming embarrassment by taking up my sword from the table, and saying, with a smile:

"I have you in my power, monsieur, follower of the King of Navarre! Whatif I were minded, on behalf of the governor of this province, to make youa prisoner?"

"My faith!" I could only reply, "you need no sword to makeprisoners of men. "

"You hope to purchase your freedom with a compliment, " she said, continuing the jest; "but you cannot close my eyes with flattery. "

"It would be a crime beyond me to close eyes so beautiful!"

She gave a pretty little smile and shrug of helplessness, as if tosay, "I cannot help it, monsieur, if you will overwhelm me withcompliments which are not deserved, I am powerless to prevent you. "But the compliments were all the more deserved because she seemed tothink them not so. 

Her modesty weakened my own audacity, and her innocent eyes put me intoa kind of confusion. So I changed the subject. 

"It appears to me, mademoiselle, " I said, "that I have had the honor ofridding you of unpleasant company. "

Her face quickly clouded, as if my words had brought to her mind agreater trouble than the mere importunities of an insolent adventurer. 

"De Berquin!" she said, and then heaved a deep sigh; "I had forgottenabout him. "

"I would not commit his offence of thrusting unwelcome company on you, " Ireplied; "but I would gladly offer you for a few leagues the sword thathas already put him to flight. "

She was for some time silent. Then she answered slowly in a low voice, "Iride towards Clochonne, monsieur. "

Taking this for an acceptance of my offer, I sheathed my sword, andreplied with an animation that betrayed my pleasure:

"And I towards the same place, mademoiselle. When you choose to set out, I am ready. "

"I am ready now, monsieur--, " she said, lingering over the word"monsieur, " as if trying to recall whether or not I had told her my name. 

It was no time at which to disclose the title under which I was knownthroughout the province as one especially proscribed, and yet I wasunwilling to pass under a false name. Therefore, I said:

"I am M. De Launay, once of Anjou, but now of nowhere in particular. Thegreat have caused my château to be scattered over my lands, stone bystone, and have otherwise encouraged my taste for travel and adventure. "

At this moment, glancing towards Blaise, I saw on his face a look ofalarm and disapproval, as if he feared that the lady or her maid might beaware that De Launay and La Tournoire were one man, but it was manifestfrom their faces that he had no cause for such an apprehension. 

The lady smiled at my description, and adjusting her gloves, replied:

"And I am Mlle. De Varion, daughter of a gentleman of Fleurier--"

"What!" I interrupted, "the Catholic gentleman who has been imprisonedfor sheltering a Huguenot?"

"Yes, " she answered, sorrowfully, and then with a strange trepidation shewent on: "and it is to save myself from imprisonment that I havedetermined to flee to the south, in the hope of finding refuge in one ofthe provinces controlled by your King of Navarre. "

"But, " I interposed, "how can you be in danger of imprisonment? It wasnot you, but your father, who violated the edict. "

"Nevertheless, " she answered, in a low and unsteady voice, averting herglance to the floor, "M. De la Chatre, the governor of the province, hasthreatened me with imprisonment if I remain in Berry. "

"Doubtless, " I said with indignation, "the governor does this in order toescape the importunities you would make in your father's behalf. He wouldsave his tender heart from the pain of being touched by your pleadings. "

"It may be so, " she answered faintly. 

I did not tell her that the idea of releasing her father had alreadyentered my head. In order to bring him safe out of the Château ofFleurier, it would be necessary for me to return to Maury for my company. The attempt would be a hazardous one, and I might fail, and I did notwish to raise hopes in her for disappointment. She should not learn of myintention until after its fulfillment. In the meantime, less because Ithought she would really undergo danger by remaining at Fleurier, thanbecause I was loth to lose the new-found happiness that her presence gaveme, I would conduct her to Maury, on the pretext of its being the bestplace whence to make, at a convenient time, a safe flight to Guienne. 

Having summoned the landlord and paid him, I waited for Mlle. De Varionto precede me out of the door. There was a moment's delay while her maidsought the riding whip which mademoiselle had laid down on one of thetables. At this moment, there came to me the idea of a jest which wouldfurnish me with amusement on the road southward, and afford mademoisellean interesting surprise on her arrival at Maury. 

"It occurs to me, mademoiselle, " said I, "that you will be glad to havesome guidance across the border. Let me recommend to you one, whoseservices I think I can assure you, and whom we may fall in with in thevicinity of Clochonne, --the Sieur de la Tournoire. "

Mademoiselle turned white, and stared at me with a look of terroron her face. 

"Decidedly, " I thought, "as the mere mention of my name produces such aneffect on her, it is well that I am not going to introduce myself untilshe shall have learned that I am not such a terrible cutthroat as theCatholics in this province think me. " And I said aloud:

"Fear not, mademoiselle. He is not as bad as his enemies represent him. "

"I shall be glad to have his guidance, " she said, still pale. 

We left the inn and took horse, being joined, outside, by mademoiselle'stwo serving-boys. Resuming his character of gentleman, Blaise rode aheadwith the lady, while I followed at the side of the maid, he casting manyan envious glance at the place I occupied, and I reciprocating hisfeelings if not his looks. Nevertheless, I was sufficiently nearmademoiselle to be able to exchange speeches with her. The day was at itsbest. The sun shone; a gentle breeze played with the red and yellowleaves in the roadway, and I was happy. 

Looking down a byway as we passed, I saw, at some distance, M. De Berquintalking to Barbemouche, while the latter's three scurvy-lookingcompanions stood by, as if awaiting the outcome of the conversationbetween the two. 

"Oho, M. De Berquin!" I said to myself, with an inward laugh; "I do notknow whether you are bargaining for help to persecute Mlle. De Varion, orto spy on the Sieur de la Tournoire; but it has come to pass that you cando both at the same time. "

CHAPTER IX. 

THE FOUR RASCALS

We rode southward at an easy pace, that mademoiselle might not be madeto suffer from fatigue. Aside from the desirability of our reaching safeterritory, there was no reason for great haste. M. De Varion had not yetbeen tried, and the attempt to deliver him from prison need not be madeimmediately. Time would be required in which I might form a satisfactoryplan of action in this matter. It would be necessary to employ all mymen in it, and to bring them secretly from Maury by night marches, but Imust not take the first step until the whole design should be completein my mind. 

I suggested to mademoiselle that we first go to her father's house, inFleurier, where she might get such of her belongings as she wished totake with her. But she desired to take no more along than was already inthe portmanteaus that her boys, Hugo and Pierre, carried with them ontheir horses. She had come directly from Bourges with this baggage, having been visiting an unmarried aunt, in that city, when news of herfather's arrest reached her. 

When I questioned her as to her conduct on the reception of that news, her face clouded, and she showed embarrassment and a wish to avoid thesubject. Nevertheless, she gave me answers, and I finally learned thather purpose on leaving Bourges had been to seek the governor of theprovince, immediately, and petition for her father's release. It was byaccident that she had met M. De la Chatre at the inn, where she hadstopped that her horses might be baited. My persistent, thoughdeferential, inquiries elicited from her, in a wavering voice, that shehad not previously possessed the governor's acquaintance; that herentreaties had evoked only the governor's wrathful orders to depart fromthe province on pain of sharing her father's fate; and that La Chatre hadrefused to allow her even to see her father in his dungeon in the Châteauof Fleurier. 

Her agitation as she disclosed these things to me became so great that Ipresently desisted from pursuing the subject, and sought to restorebrightness to the face of one whose tenderness and youth made hermisfortune ineffably touching. 

I found that, with a woman's intelligence, she had a child'singenuousness. I had no difficulty in leading her to talk about herself. Artlessly she communicated to me the salient facts of her life. Herfather, the younger son of a noble family, had passed his days in studyon his little portion of land near Fleurier. Like myself, she had whenvery young become motherless. As for her education, her unmarried aunthad taught her those accomplishments which a woman can best impart, whileher father had instructed her concerning the ancients, the arts, and thesciences. She had been to Paris but once, and knew nothing of the court. 

Most of my conversation with mademoiselle was had while we traversed adeserted stretch of road, where I could, with safety, ride by her sideand allow Blaise to take my place with the maid, Jeannotte. I could inferhow deeply the good fellow had been smitten with the petite damsel by themeans which he took to impress her in return. Far from showing himself asthe wounded, sighing lover, he swelled to large dimensions, assumed hismost martial frown, and carried himself as a most formidable personage. He boasted sonorously of his achievements in battle. 

"And the scar on your forehead, " I heard her say, as she inspected hisvisage with a coquettish side glance; "at what battle did you get that?"

His reply was uttered in a voice whose rancorous fierceness must have setthe maid trembling. 

"In the battle of the Rue Etienne, " he said, "which was fought betweenmyself and a hell-born Papist, on St. Bartholomew's night, in 1572. Fromthe next house-roof, I had seen Coligny's body thrown, bleeding, from hisown window into his courtyard, for I was one of those who were with himwhen his murderers came, and whom he ordered to flee. I ran from roof toroof, hoping to reach a house where a number of Huguenots were, that Imight lead them back to avenge the admiral's murder. I dropped to thestreet and ran around a corner straight into the arms of one of thebutchers employed by the Duke of Guise that night to decorate the streetsof Paris with the best blood in France. Seeing that I did not wear thewhite cross on my arm, he was good enough to give me this red mark on myforehead. But in those days I was quick at repartee, and I gave him asimilar mark on a similar place. Then I was knocked down from behind, andwhen I awoke it was the next day. The dogs had thought me dead. As forthe man who gave me this mark, I have not seen him since, but forthirteen years I have prayed hard to the bountiful Father in Heaven tobring us together again some day, and the good God in His infinitekindness will surely do so!"

Now and then mademoiselle turned in her saddle to look behind. It waswhen she did this for the ninth or tenth time that she gave a start, andher lips parted with a half-uttered ejaculation of alarm. I followed herlook and saw five mounted figures far behind us, on the road. It wasmost probable that these were De Berquin, Barbemouche, and the latter'sthree ragged comrades. But in this sight I found no reason to bedisturbed. If mademoiselle was the object of De Berquin's quest, I feltthat our party was sufficiently strong to protect her. If he hadabandoned the intention of annoying her with further importunities, andwas merely proceeding to Clochonne in order to act as the governor's spyagainst me, there could be no immediate danger in his presence, for hedid not suspect that I was the Sieur de la Tournoire. 

"Be assured, mademoiselle, " I said, "you have nothing whatever to fearfrom M. De Berquin. "

"I do not fear for myself, " she replied, with a pathetic little smile. "It cannot be possible that, having seen me only once, he should puthimself to so much trouble merely to inflict his attentions on me. "

"Then you never saw him before the meeting at the inn to-day?" I asked, in surprise. 

"Never. When he addressed me and introduced himself, I was surprised thathe should already know my name. "

I then recalled that the governor's secretary, Montignac, at one time, during his talk with De Berquin outside our window, had pointed towardsthe inn. Was it, then, of Mlle. De Varion that he had been talking?Montignac, of course, having witnessed the interview between mademoiselleand the governor, had learned her name. It must have been he who hadcommunicated it to De Berquin. Had the subtle secretary entrusted theunscrupulous cavalier with some commission relative to mademoiselle, aswell as with the task of betraying me? It was in vain that I tried tofind satisfactory answers to these questions. 

I asked mademoiselle whether she had ever known Montignac before thisday. 

"Never, " she answered, with a kind of shudder, which seemed to expressboth abhorrence and fear. Again she grew reticent; again the shadow andthe look of confusion appeared on her face. I could make nothing of thesesigns. To attempt a solution by interrogating her was only to cause herpain, and rather than do that I preferred to remain mystified. 

Once more mademoiselle cast an uneasy look at the riders in thedistance rearward. 

"Ah!" said I, with a smile, "you have no fear for yourself, yet youcontinue to look back with an expression that very nearly resembles thatof fright. "

"I do not fear for myself, " she said, quite artlessly; "it is for youthat I fear. M. De Berquin will surely try to revenge himself for thehumiliation you gave him. "

A joyous thrill sent the blood to my cheeks. Without disguising myfeelings, I turned and looked at her. Doubtless the gladness that shonein my eyes told her what was in my heart. Realizing that her frank andgentle demonstration of solicitude was a confession to be received withineffable delight by the man to whom it was tendered, she dropped hereyes and a deep blush overspread her face. For some time no word passedbetween us; enough had been said. I knew that the look in my eyes hadtold more, a thousand times, than all the extravagant compliments withwhich I had, half banteringly, deluged her at the inn. 

We might, by hard riding, have reached Maury on the night of that day, but mademoiselle's comfort was to be considered, and, moreover, I desiredto throw De Berquin off our track before going to our hiding-place. Therefore, when Clochonne was yet some leagues before us, we turned intoa by-way, and stopped at an obscure inn at the end of a small village. This hostelry was a mere hut, consisting of a kitchen and one otherapartment, and was kept by an old couple as stupid and avaricious as anyof their class. The whole place, such as it was, was at our disposal. Theone private room was given over to mademoiselle and Jeannotte for thenight, it being decided that I and Blaise should share the kitchen withthe inn-keeper and his wife, while the two boys should sleep in an outershed with the horses. 

Roused from sluggishness by the sight of a gold piece, which Blaisedisplayed, the old couple succeeded in getting for us a passable supper, which we had served to us on the end of an old wine-butt outside the inn, as the kitchen was intolerably smoky. 

"A poor place, mademoiselle, " said I, ashamed of having conducted sodelicate a creature to this miserable hovel. 

"What would you have?" she replied, with a pretty attempt to cover herdejection by a show of cheerfulness. "One cannot flee, for one's liberty, through the forest, and live in a château at the same time. "

As for the others, hunger and fatigue made any fare and shelter welcome. Blaise, in particular, found the wine acceptable. Conscious of theglances of Jeannotte, now flashing, now demure, he strove to outdohimself in one of his happiest accomplishments, that of drinking. The twoboys, Hugo and Pierre, emulated his achievements, and only the presenceof mademoiselle deterred our party from becoming a noisy one. 

Blaise became more and more exuberant as he made the wine flow the moregenerously. Seeing a way of diverting mademoiselle from her sad thoughts, I set him to telling of the things he had done in battle when controlledby the sanguinary spirit of his father. He had a manner of narratingthese deeds of slaughter, which took all the horror out of them, and madethem rather comical than of any other description. He soon hadmademoiselle smiling, the maid laughing, and the two boys looking on himwith open-eyed admiration. Finding Jeannotte and the boys so wellentertained, mademoiselle allowed them to remain with Blaise when sheretired to her room. 

I followed her to the inn door, and bade her rest without fear, assuringher that I would die ere the least harm should befall her. 

"Nay, " she answered smiling, "I would endure much harm rather than buysecurity at such a price. "

For an instant her smooth and delicate fingers lay in mine. Then theywere swiftly withdrawn, and she passed in, while I stood outside to muse, in the gathering dusk, upon the great change that had come over the worldsince my first meeting with her, six hours before. The very stars and skyseemed to smile upon me; the moonlight seemed to shine for me consciouslywith a greater softness; the very smell of the earth and grass and treeshad grown sweeter to me. I thought how barren, though I had not known it, the world had been before this transformation, and how unendurable to mewould be a return of that barrenness. 

I rejoined the now somewhat boisterous party at the wine-butt in time tocatch Blaise making an attempt to kiss Jeannotte, who was maintaining afair pretence of resistance. She seemed rather displeased at my return, for as Blaise, unabashedly, continued his efforts, she was compelled, inorder to make her coyness seem real to me, to break from him, and fleeinto the inn. 

Blaise, in whom the spirit of his father was now manifestly gaming theascendancy, consoled himself for the absence of Jeannotte by drinkingmore heroically and betaking to song. The boys labored assiduously tokeep him company. Finally the stalwart fellow, Hugo, succumbed to theeffects of the wine, and staggered off to the shed. Pierre followed him afew minutes later, and Blaise was left alone with the remains of thewine. The landlord and his wife had retired to rest, on their pallets onthe kitchen floor, some time before. Blaise sat on a log, singing tohimself and cursing imaginary enemies, until all the wine at hand wasexhausted. Then he let me lead him into the kitchen, where he immediatelydropped to the floor, rolled over on his back, and began snoring with thevigor that characterized all his vocal manifestations. 

Making a pillow of my cloak, I lay down beside him, and tried to sleep;but the stale air of the kitchen, the new thoughts to which my mind clungwith delight, the puzzling questions that sought to displace thosethoughts, and the tremendous snoring of both the landlord and his wife, as well as of Blaise, made slumber impossible to me. I therefore rose, and went out of the inn. At a short distance away was a smooth, grassyknoll, now bathed in moonlight. I decided to make this my couch. I hadproceeded only a few steps from the inn when the silence of the earlynight was disturbed by the sound of footsteps on the crisp, fallen leavesin the woods close at hand. 

The smallness of the village and the obscurity of the locality gaveimportance to every sound, proceeding from a human source, at this hour. I, therefore, dropped behind the thick stump of a tree, where I might seeand hear without being observed. Presently a figure emerged from the edgeof the wood and moved cautiously towards the inn. It stopped, made agesture towards the wood, and then continued its course. Three morefigures then came out of the wood, one very tall, one exceedingly broad, and the third extremely thin. They came on with great caution, andfinally joined the first comer near the inn. By this time I hadrecognized the leader as my old friend, Barbemouche. The others were hiscompanions. 

I awaited their further proceedings with curiosity. Was it in quest ofus, at the behest of De Berquin, that they had come hither so cautiouslyand without their horses? Very probably. Doubtless, from afar, they hadseen us turn into the byway which, as one or more of them perhaps knew, led to this inn and to no other. It was not likely that, having certainlymade some bargain with De Berquin, and being moneyless, they had quittedhis service so soon. Yet, if they were now carrying out orders of hisagainst mademoiselle or against me, the supposed lackey who had incurredhis wrath, why was he not with them? I hoped soon to see these questionsanswered by the doings of the rascals themselves. 

The fat ruffian sank down, with a heavy sigh of relief, on the log whereBlaise had sat. He pulled down with him the thin fellow, who had beenclutching his arm as if for support. The latter had a wavy, yellow beard, a feminine manner, and a dandified air, as if he might once have been afop at the court before descending to the rags which now covered him. Thefat hireling had a face on which both good nature and pugnacity weredepicted. At present he was puffing from his exertions afoot. The moststriking figure of the group was that of the tall rascal. He was gaunt, angular and erect, throwing out his chest, and wearing a solemn andmeditative mien upon his weather-beaten face. This visage, long enough inits frame-work, was further extended by a great, pointed beard. There wassomething of grandeur about this cadaverous, frowning, Spanish-lookingwreck of a warrior, as he stood thoughtfully leaning upon a hugetwo-handed sword, which he had doubtless obtained in the pillage of someold armory. 

"The place seems closed as tight as the gates of Heaven to a heretic, "growled Barbemouche, scrutinizing the inn. 

The tall fellow here awoke from his reverie, and spoke in solemn, deliberate tones:

"Would it not be well to wake up the landlord and try his wine?"

"Wake up the devil!" cried Barbemouche angrily. "Nobody is to be wakedup. We are simply to find out whether they are here, and then go back tothe Captain. Your unquenchable thirst will take you to hell before yourtime, François. "

"It is astonishing, " put in the fat fellow, looking at the tall, leanFrançois, "how so few gallons of body can hold so many gallons of wine. "

"Would I had your body to fill with wine, Antoine, " said François, longingly; and then, casting an unhappy look at the inn, he added, "andthe wine to fill it with. "

"What are you shaking for, Jacques?" asked fat Antoine of his slimcomrade at his side. "One would think you were afraid. Haven't you toldus that love of fighting was the one passion of your life?"

"Death of the devil, so it is!" replied Jacques in a soft voice, andwith a lisp worthy of one of the King's painted minions. "That is whatannoys me, for if this insignificant matter should come to a fight, and Ishould accidentally be killed in so obscure an affair, how could I everagain indulge my passion for fighting?"

Meanwhile, Barbemouche had gone to the door and cautiously opened it, noone having barred it after my departure from the kitchen. I could hearthe sound of Blaise's superb snoring, mingled with the less resonantefforts of the old couple. Barbemouche surveyed as much of the kitchen asthe moonlight disclosed to him. Then he quietly shut the door and turnedto his fellows. 

"It is well, " he said. "The gentleman himself is snoring his lungs awayjust inside the door. There is another room, and it is there that thewomen must be. The others are probably in the shed. Let us go quietly, asit would not be polite to disturb their sleep. "

Whereupon Barbemouche led the way back to the woods, followed by fatAntoine, who toiled puffingly, Jacques, who stepped daintily and seemedfearful of treading on stones and briars, and last of all François, whomoved at a measured pace, with long strides, retaining his air ofprofound meditation. The sound of the crushing of leaves beneath theirfeet became more distant, and finally died out entirely. 

In vain I asked myself the meaning of this strange investigation. Manifestly the present object of De Berquin was nothing more than to keephimself informed of our whereabouts. But why had he sent all four of hishenchmen to find out whether we were at this inn, when one would havesufficed? I abandoned the attempt to deduce what his exact intentionswere. Drowsiness now coming over me, and the night air having growncolder, I repaired to the shed for the purpose of obtaining there therepose that had been denied me in the kitchen. I was satisfied in mindthat whatever blow De Berquin intended to strike for the possession ofmademoiselle, or for revenge upon myself, would be attempted at a timeand place more convenient to him. Knowing that my slumbers invariablyyielded to any unusual noise, I allowed myself to fall asleep on a pileof straw in the shed. 

I know not how long I had slept, when I suddenly awoke with a start andsat upright. What noise had invaded my sleep, I could not, at thatmoment, tell. The place was then perfectly quiet, save for the regularbreathing of the two boys, and an occasional movement of one of thehorses. The shed was still entirely dark, excepting where a thin slice ofmoonlight entered at a crack. I sat still, listening. 

Presently a low sound struck my ear, something between a growl and agroan. I quickly arose, left the shed, and ran to a clump of bushes atthe side of the inn, whence the sound proceeded. Separating the bushes Isaw, lying prone on the ground among them, the stalwart body of Blaise. 

"What is the matter?" I cried. "Speak! Are you wounded?"

The only reply was a kind of muffled roar. Looking closer, I saw thatBlaise's mouth and head were tightly bound by the detached sleeve of adoublet, and this had deterred him from articulating. I saw, also, that his legs had been tied together, and his hands fastened behindhim with a rope. 

I rapidly released his legs, and he stood up. Then I undid his hands, and he stretched out his arms with relief. Finally I unbound his mouthand he spoke:

"Oh, the whelps of hell! To fall on a man when he is sleeping off hiswine, and tie him up like a trussed fowl! I will have the blood of everycursed knave of them! And the maid! Grandmother of the devil! They havetaken the maid! Come, monsieur, let us cut them into pieces, and savethe maid!"

But I held him back, and cried: "And mademoiselle, what of her? Speak, you drunken dog! Have you let her be harmed?"

"She is perfectly safe, " he answered, in his turn holding me back fromrushing to the inn. "I do not think that she was even awakened. Whatuse to let her know what has happened? If we rescue the maid and themaid will hold her tongue, mademoiselle will never know what danger shehas escaped. "

"Or what vigilant protectors she has had to guard her sleep, " I said, with bitter self-reproach, no longer daring to blame Blaise for a laxityof which I had been equally guilty. "You are right, " I went on, "she mustknow nothing. Now tell me at once exactly what has occurred. "

Blaise would rather have looked for his sword, and started offimmediately to the rescue of the maid, but I made him stand with me inthe shadow of the inn and relate. 

"From the time when I fell asleep on the kitchen floor, " he said, "I knewnothing until a little while ago, when I awoke, and found myself stillwhere I had lain down, but tied up as you found me yonder. Four curs ofhell were lifting me to carry me out. I tried to strike, but the deepsleep, induced by that cursed wine, had allowed them to tie me up asneatly as if I had been a dead deer. Neither could I speak, though Itried hard enough to curse, you may be sure. So they brought me out, andlaid me down there by the inn-door. 'Would it not be best to stick asword into him?' said one of the rascals, a soft speaking, womanish pup. A hungry-looking giant put the point of an old two-handed sword at mybreast, as if to carry out the suggestion; but a heavy, black-beardedscoundrel, whose voice I think I have heard before, pushed the sword awayand said: 'No, the captain has a quarrel to adjust with him in person. Weare to concern ourselves entirely with the lady. Lay him yonder. ' So theycarried me over to the bushes. 'And now for the others, ' said the giant. 'Why lose time over them?' said the burly fellow, who seemed to be theleader; 'they are sleeping like pigs in the shed. Come! We can do thebusiness without waking them up, '

"So they left me lying on the ground and went into the inn again, veryquietly. They must have gone, without waking the landlord or his wife, into the room of mademoiselle and her maid. Presently they came outagain, carrying the maid. When they had gone about half way to the woods, they stopped and set her on her feet. So far, I suppose, it was the winethat kept her asleep; but now she awoke, and I could see her lookingaround, very scared, from one to the other of the four rascals. Then shegave a scream. At that instant, there came rushing from the woods, withhis sword drawn, your friend, the Vicomte de Berquin. 'Stand off, rascals!' he shouted, as he ran up to them. They drew their weapons, andmade a weak pretense of resisting him; then, when each one had exchangeda thrust with him, they all turned tail, and made off into the woods. 

"M. De Berquin now turned to the maid, who had fallen to her knees infright. Taking her hand, he said, 'Mademoiselle, I thank Heaven I arrivedin time to give you the aid your own escort failed to afford. Perhaps nowyou will be the less unwilling to accept my protection!'--the maid nowlooked up at him, and he got a good view of her face. He started back asif hell had opened before him, threw her hand from his, turned towardsthe woods, and shouted to the four rascals, 'You whelps of the devil, youhave made a mistake and brought the maid!' He was about to follow them, when it probably occurred to him that if left free the maid woulddisclose his little project; for he stood thinking a moment, then graspedthe frightened maid by the wrist, and ran off into the woods, draggingher after him. All this I saw through an opening in the bushes while Ilay helpless and speechless. By industriously working my jaw, I at lastsucceeded in making my mouth sufficiently free to produce the soundswhich brought you to me. Now, monsieur, let us hasten after the maid, formademoiselle will be vastly annoyed to lose her precious Jeannotte. "

I saw that Blaise knew with what argument I was quickest to be moved. 

"Blaise, " I said, "do not pretend that it is only for mademoiselle'ssake that you are concerned. In your anxiety about the maid, you forgetthe danger in which mademoiselle still lies, and which requires me toremain here. When the ingenious De Berquin learns, from his fourhenchmen, that mademoiselle was not awakened, he will certainly repeathis attempt. He thinks to win her favor by appearing to be her rescuerfrom these four pretended assailants, and, at the same time, to make usseem unworthy to protect her. He does not know that she has seen the fourrascals in his company. He wishes to work with his own hand his revengeupon us, and so he has let us live. I see the way to make him soridiculous in the eyes of mademoiselle that he will never dare show hisface to her again. "

"But the maid!" persisted Blaise. 

"They will doubtless secure her somewhere in the woods, and return hereto enact, with mademoiselle herself, the sham rescue which theymistakenly carried out with the maid. Go and seek your preciousJeannotte, if you please, but do not let them discover you. Wait untilthey leave her before you try to release her. "

Blaise was quick to avail himself of this conditional commission. He wentwith me into the kitchen, where the old couple were sleeping as noisilyas ever, and found his sword where he had laid it before supper. Thedoor to mademoiselle's room was ajar. Standing at the threshold, I couldhear her breathing peacefully, unaware of the peril from which, by ablunder, she had been saved. Through the small window of the room came abar of moonlight which lighted up her face. It was a face pale, sad, innocent, --the face of a girl transformed, in an instant, to womanhoodby a single grief. 

Leaving her door as I had found it, I went from the inn to the shed, still wearing my sword, which I had put on in first leaving the kitchenafter my futile attempt to sleep. Blaise was already making rapidly forthe woods. 

I quietly awoke Hugo and Pierre, and bade them put on their weapons andremain ready to respond to my call. I then posted myself again behind thetree stump near the inn door and awaited occurrences. 

By this time clouds had arisen, and the moonlight was frequentlyobscured. I had waited about half an hour, when, again, the sound ofbreaking leaves and sticks warned me that living beings wereapproaching through the woods. At last I made out the four figures ofDe Berquin's hirelings as they cautiously paused at the edge of theopen space. Apparently assured by the silence that their presence wasunsuspected, they came on to the inn. In a moment of moonlight, Iperceived, also, the figure of De Berquin, who stood at the border ofthe woods watching the proceedings of his varlets. Even as I looked, hewithdrew into the shadow. At the same time a heavy mass of cloud castdarkness over the place. 

But I could descry the black forms of the four rascals huddled togetherat the door of the inn, which the foremost cautiously opened. A momentlater they had all entered the kitchen. 

I glided rapidly through the darkness after them, and took my stand justwithin the door, where any one attempting to pass out must encounter me. The four rascals were now at the inner door leading to the room ofmademoiselle. 

"Stand off, rascals!" I cried, assuming the tone of De Berquin. Inthe same moment, I gently punctured the back of the nearest rascalwith my sword. 

Surprised at what they took for the premature advent of their master, thefellows turned and stood for a moment undecided. But, by thrusting mysword among them, I enabled them to make up their minds. They could butblindly obey their instructions, and so they came towards me with afeeble pretense of attack. In the darkness it was impossible for them tomake out my features. I met their sham assault with much greater vigorthan De Berquin had led them to expect from him. This they might havebeen moved to resist, in earnest, but for the fear of losing their pay, which De Berquin, in order to secure himself against treachery on theirpart, would certainly have represented as being, not on his person, butsomewhere awaiting his call. Thus deterred from making a sufficientdefence against my sword-play, and as mademoiselle, awakened by thenoise, had hastened to her door and was looking on, the four adventurerssoon considered that their pretense of battle had lasted long enough. Ahowl of pain from Barbemouche, evoked by a wound in the groin, was thesignal for their general flight. As I still stood in the doorway to barall exit there, they sought other ways of egress. The slim Jacques ranpast mademoiselle into her room and bolted through the window. Barbemouche managed to go through the rear window of the kitchen, and thefat Antoine tried to follow him, but succeeded only as to his head, arms, and shoulders. Squeezed tightly into the opening, he remained anirresistible temptation to the point of my sword, and at every thrust hebeat the air with his legs, and shrieked piteously. The tall François, inattempting to reach this window at one stride, had stumbled against thebodies of the terrified innkeeper and his wife, and he now labored, vainly, to release his leg from the grasp of the old woman, who clung toit with the strength of desperation. 

I took mademoiselle by the hand and led her out into the air. Here wewere joined by Hugo and Pierre, who had run around from the shed at thenoise. I was just about to answer her look of bewilderment and inquiry, when there came a loud cry:

"Stand off, rascals!"

And on rushed De Berquin from the woods, making a great flourish with hissword as he came. In the darkness, seeing mademoiselle standing withthree men, one of whom had led her rapidly from the inn, the inventiveVicomte had taken us three for his own zealous henchmen. 

And so he came, like some giant-slaying chevalier of the old days, crying again: "Stand off, rascals!" and adding, "You hounds, releasethis lady!"

"Fear not for the lady; her friends are here!" I said, motioning Hugo andPierre aside and stepping forward with mademoiselle, my drawn sword in myright hand. 

The moon reappeared, and showed De Berquin standing with open mouth, asif turned to stone. In a moment this astonishment passed. 

"Thousand devils!" he cried. "The cursed lackey!"

And he made a wrathful thrust at me, but I disarmed him now as neatly asat the inn. Thereupon, he picked up his sword and made rapidly off to thewoods. Turning towards the inn, I saw the tall fellow and his fatcomrade leaving it, the former bearing his huge sword on his shoulder. They avoided us by a detour, and followed De Berquin. The two who hadescaped by windows had, doubtless, already reached the protection of thetrees. I began to explain to mademoiselle, and was asking myself how bestto account for the absence of Jeannotte, when I saw Blaise coming fromthe woods, bearing the maid in his arms. To prevent her from returning tothe inn, De Berquin had caused Barbemouche to bind her to a tree. Whenher captors had departed to make a second attempt against mademoiselle, the maid had set up a moaning, and this had guided Blaise to her side. 

It was now impossible to conceal any of the night's events frommademoiselle, but she, far from blaming our lack of vigilance, feigned tothink herself indebted to us for a second rescue from the attentions ofher persecutor. During the rest of that night her slumbers were morefaithfully guarded, although they were not threatened again. 

CHAPTER X. 

A DISAPPEARANCE

The next morning we resumed our way southward. The weather was clear andfine, yet Mlle. De Varion seemed more heavy at heart than she had been onthe preceding day. This could not be attributed to any apprehension offurther annoyance from De Berquin, for, as her talk showed, she believedthat he would not again trouble her after his having cut so poor a figurewith his attempt at an intended rescue. But though I did not tell her, Ihad good reason to believe that we were not yet done with him. Thefailure of his attempt with regard to mademoiselle, whether or not thatattempt had been dictated by Montignac, would not make him abandon themore important mission concerning the Sieur de la Tournoire. Therefore, Iwas likely to encounter him again, and probably nearer Maury, and, as itwas my intention that mademoiselle should remain under my protectionuntil after my venture in behalf of her father, it was probable that she, too, would see more of her erstwhile pursuer. I would allow events todictate precautions against the discovery of my hiding-place by DeBerquin, against his interference with my intended attempt to deliver M. De Varion, and against his molesting Mlle. De Varion during my absencefrom her on that attempt. I might have killed De Berquin when I disarmedhim on the previous night, but I did not wish to make him, in the least, an object of mademoiselle's pity, and, moreover, I was curious to seewhat means he would adopt towards hunting me down and betraying me. 

Not only the dejection of Mlle. De Varion made our ride a melancholy one, despite the radiance of the autumn morning. Blaise, repentant of hisoverindulgence, and still feeling the humiliation of the easy capturemade of him by four scurvy knaves, had taken refuge in one of those moodsof pious reflection which he attributed to maternal influence. Piqued atthis reticence, the maid, Jeannotte, maintained a sulky silence. The twoboys, devoted to their mistress, now faithfully reflected her sad anduneasy demeanor. 

"Look, mademoiselle!" said I, glad of having found objects toward whichto draw her attention, "yonder is the Château of Clochonne. Beyond that, and to the right, are the mountains for which we are bound. It is therethat I shall introduce to you the Sieur de la Tournoire. "

Mademoiselle looked at the distant towers and the mountains beyondwith an expression of dread. She gave a heavy sigh and shuddered inher saddle. 

"Nay, mademoiselle, " I said; "you have nothing to fear there. "

She turned pale, and answered, in a trembling voice:

"Alas, monsieur! Am I not about to put those mountains between myself andmy father?"

I thought of the joy that I should cause and the gratitude that I shouldwin, should I succeed in bringing her father safe to her on thosemountains, but I kept the thought to myself. 

We skirted Clochonne by a wide détour, fording the Creuse at a secludedplace, and ascended the wooded hills in single file. After a long andtoilsome progress through pathless and deeply shaded wilds, we reached, in the afternoon, the forest inn kept by Godeau and his wife. It had beenmy intention to stop and rest here, and to send Blaise ahead to Maury, that one of the rooms of our ruined château might be made fit formademoiselle's reception. I had expected to find the inn, as usual, without guests, but on approaching it we heard the sound of musicproceeding from a stringed instrument. We stopped at the edge of thesmall, cleared space before the inn and sent Blaise to reconnoitre. Heboldly entered and presently returned, followed by the decrepit Godeauand his strapping wife, Marianne. Both gave us glad welcome, the old manwith obsequious bows which doubtless racked his rheumatic joints, thewoman with bustling cordiality. 

"Be at ease, monsieur, " said Marianne. "We have no one within except twogypsies, who will make music for you and tell your fortunes. Godeau, lookto the horses. "

I dismounted and assisted mademoiselle to descend. Then, on the pretextof giving an order, I took Marianne and Godeau aside, and bade them toaddress me as M. De Launay, not on any account as M. De la Tournoire. Theold man then saw to our horses, and Marianne brought us wine. 

"Before sunset, " I said to mademoiselle, as I raised my glass, "you shallmeet the Sieur de la Tournoire at his hiding-place. "

Mlle. De Varion turned pale, and, as if suddenly too weak to stand, satdown on a wooden bench before the inn door. Jeannotte ran to support her. 

"Before sunset!" she repeated, with a shudder. 

"Yes, mademoiselle, unless you are too ill to proceed. I fear the fatigueof this ride has been too much for you. "

She gave a look of relief, and replied:

"I fear that it has. I shall be better able to go on to-morrow, --unlessthere is danger in remaining here. "

"There is very little danger. People crossing the mountains by way ofClochonne now use the new road, which is shorter. If, by any chance, soldiers from the Clochonne garrison should come this way and detain usas fleeing Huguenots, we could summon help, --for we are so near thehiding-place of the Sieur de la Tournoire. "

Again that shudder! Decidedly, in the accounts that she had receivedof me, I must have been represented as a very terrible personage. Ismiled at thinking of the surprise that awaited her in the disclosureof the truth. 

It was thereupon arranged that we should stay at Godeau's inn until thenext morning. Mademoiselle's portmanteaus were carried to the upperchamber, which was a mere loft, but preferable to the kitchen. Thither, after eating, she went to rest. Blaise then departed to direct thedesired preparations at Maury, with orders to return to the inn beforenightfall. Jeannotte and the two boys remained in the kitchen to hear themusic of the two gypsies, a man and a girl. Having nothing better to do, I took my seat on the bench outside the inn and sat musing. 

Late in the afternoon, I heard the light step of mademoiselle on thethreshold. On seeing me, she stopped, as if it were I whom she had comeout to seek I rose and offered her the bench. She sat down in silence, and for a moment her eyes rested on the ground, while on her face was alook of trouble. Suddenly she lifted her glance to mine and spokeabruptly, as if forcing herself to broach a subject on which she wouldrather have been silent. 

"Monsieur, " she said, "I suppose that the Sieur de la Tournoire, whom weare so soon to meet, is a very dear friend of yours!"

"A very close friend, " I replied, with an inward smile. "And yet he hasgot me into so much trouble that I might fairly consider him my enemy. "

"I must confess, " said she, "that I have heard little of him but evil. "

"It is natural that the Catholics in Berry should find nothing good tosay of him, " I replied. "Yet it is true that he is far from perfect, --asubtle rascal, who dons disguises, and masquerades as other than he is, aleader of night-birds, and sometimes a turbulent roysterer. "

"I have been told, " she said, "that he treacherously killed a man inParis, and deserted from the French Guards. "

"As for the killing, " I replied, "there was no treachery or unfairness onhis part; and if he deserted from the King's French Guards, it was whenthe King had consented to give him up to the Duke of Guise, whom the weakKing, then as now, hated as much as feared. "

She gave a heavy sigh, and went on, "La Tournoire is a brave man, of course?"

"He is a man, " I said, "who expects to meet death as he meets life, cheerfully, not hoping too much, not fearing anything. "

"And this hiding-place of his, " she said, in a very low voice, againdropping her glance to the ground. "Tell me of it. "

I gave her a description of the ruined Château of Maury. 

"But, " she said, "is not the place easily accessible to the troops of theGovernor?"

"The troops of the garrison at Clochonne have not yet found the way toit, " I replied. "The château was abandoned twenty years ago. Its masteris an adventurer in the new world, if he is not dead. Its very existencehas been forgotten, for the land pertaining to it is of no value. Thesoldiers from Clochonne could find it only by scouring this almostimpenetrable wilderness. "

"Is there, then, no road leading to it?" she asked. 

"This road leads hither from Clochonne, and on southward across themountain. There are the remains of a by-road leading from here westwardto the château, and ending there. But this by-road, almost entirelyrecovered by the forest, is known only to La Tournoire and his friends. Abetter way for the Governor's soldiers to find La Tournoire's stronghold, if they but knew, would be to take the road along the river fromClochonne to Narjec, and to turn up the hill at the throne-shaped rockhalf-way between those towns. At the top of that hill is Maury, hidden bydense woods and thickets. "

Mlle. De Varion, who had heard my last words with a look of keenattention and also of bitter pain of mind, now rose and walked to and froas if meditating. Inwardly I lamented my inability to drive from her facethe clouds which I attributed to her increasing distress, as she foundherself further and further from her father and her home, bound for stillgloomier shades and wilder surroundings. 

I asked if she would go in and hear the music of the gypsy, or have himcome out and play for her, but she thanked me with a sorrowful attempt ata smile, and returned to her own chamber. 

When the sun declined, I ordered Marianne to prepare the best supper thather resources would allow, and then, as it was time that Blaise shouldhave been back from Maury, I went to a little knoll, which gave a view ofa part of the abandoned byroad, to look and listen for him. Presently, Iheard the sound of a horse's footfalls near the inn, and made haste backto see who rode there. Just as I reached the cleared space, I saw therider disappearing around a bend of the road which led to Clochonne. Though I saw only his back, I recognized him as mademoiselle's boy, Pierre, mounted on one of her horses. 

On the bench before the inn sat mademoiselle herself, alone. She gave astart of surprise when I came up to her. 

"Mademoiselle, " I said, "I have just seen your boy, Pierre, ridingtowards Clochonne. "

"Yes, " she replied, looking off towards the darkest part of the forest. "I--I was alarmed at your absence. I did not know where you had gone; Isent him to look for you. "

"Then I would better run after and call him back, " I said, taking a steptowards the road. 

"No, no!" she answered, quickly. "Do not leave me now. He will come backsoon of his own accord. I told him to do so if he did not find you. Imust ask you to bear with me, monsieur. The solitude, the strangeness ofthe place, almost appal me. I feel a kind of terror when I do not knowthat you are near. "

"Mademoiselle, " I said, sitting beside her on the bench, "I cannotdescribe that which I shall feel, if I am doomed ever to know that youare not near me. It will be as if the sun had ceased to shine, and theearth had turned barren. "

A blush mounted to her cheeks; she dropped her humid eyes; her breastheaved. For an instant she seemed to have forgotten her distresses. Thensorrow resumed its place on her countenance, and she answered, sadly:

"Ah, monsieur, when you shall have truly known me!"

"Have I not known you a whole day?" I asked. "I wonder that life had anyrelish for me before yesterday. It seems as if I had known you always, though the joy that your presence gives me will always be fresh andnovel. Ah, mademoiselle, if you knew what sweetness suddenly filled theworld at my first sight of you!"

I took her hand in mine. She made a weak effort to withdraw it; Itightened my hold; she let it remain. Then she turned her blue eyes up tomine with a look of infinite trust and yielding, so that I felt that, rapid as had been my own yielding to the charm of her beauty and hergentleness, she had as speedily acknowledged in me the man by whom herheart might be commanded. 

As we sat thus, the gypsy within, who had been for some time aimlesslystrumming his instrument, began to sing. The words of his song came to ussubdued, but distinct:

"The sparkle of my lady's eyes-- Ah, sight that is the fairest!The look of love that in them lies-- Ah, thrill that is the rarest!Oh, comrades mine, go roam the earth, You'll find in all your rovingThat all its other joys are worth Not half the joys of loving!"

"Ah, mademoiselle, " I whispered, "before yesterday those words would havemeant nothing to me!"

She made no answer, but closed her eyes, as if to shut out every thoughtbut consciousness of that moment. 

And now the gypsy, in an air and voice expressive of sadness, as he hadbefore been expressive of rapture, sang a second stanza:

"But, ah, the price we have to pay For joys that have their season!And, oh, the sadness of the day When woman shows her treason!Her look of love is but a mask For plots that she is weaving. Alas, for those who fondly bask In smiles that are deceiving!"

I thought of Mlle. D'Arency, but not for long; for suddenly Mlle. DeVarion started up, as if awakened from a dream, and looked at me with anexpression of unspeakable distress of mind. 

"Oh, monsieur!" she cried. "You must leave me! I must never see youagain. Go, go, --or let me go at once!"

"Mademoiselle!" I cried, astonished. 

"I beg you, make no objections, ask no questions! Only go! It is acrime, an infamy, for me to have listened while you spoke as you spoke awhile ago! I ought not to have accepted your protection! Go, monsieur, and have no more to do with the most miserable woman in France!"

She started to go into the inn, but I caught her by the hand anddetained her. 

"Mademoiselle, " I said, gently, "the difference in our religions need notforbid such words between us as I have spoken. I can understand how youregard it as an insuperable barrier, but it is really a slight one, easily removed, as it has been in many notable cases. "

"Monsieur, " she replied, resolutely, shaking her head, "I say again, wemust part. I am not to be urged or persuaded. The greatest kindness youcan do me is to go, or let me go, without more words. "

"But, mademoiselle, " I interposed, "it will be very difficult for you tocontinue your flight across this border without a guide. Not to speak ofthe danger from men, there is the chance of losing your way. "

"The Sieur de la Tournoire will not refuse me his guidance, " she said, ina voice that seemed forced to an unwonted hardness. 

"Then you will discard my protection, and accept his, a stranger's?"

"Yes, because he is a stranger, --thank God!"

What, I asked myself, was to be the end of this? Would she not, onlearning that La Tournoire was myself, all the more decidedly insist ongoing her own way? Therefore, before disclosing myself to her, I mustaccustom her to the view that a difference in religion ought not toseparate two who love each other. In order to do this, I must have time;so I said:

"At least, mademoiselle, you will let me show you the way to Maury, andpresent to you the Sieur de la Tournoire. That is little to ask. "

"I have already accepted too much from you, " she replied, hesitating. 

"Then cancel the obligation by granting me this one favor. "

"Very well, monsieur. But you will then go immediately?"

"From the moment when you first meet La Tournoire, he shall be your onlyguide, unless you yourself choose another. In the meantime, " I added, forshe had taken another step towards the inn, "grant me at least as much ofyour society as you would bestow on an indifferent acquaintance, whohappened to be your fellow-traveler in this lonely place. "

She gave a sigh which I took as meaning that the more we should see eachother, the harder the parting would be at last, but she said, tremulously:

"We shall meet at supper, monsieur, and to-morrow, when you conduct meon to Maury. " Then she entered the inn, but stopped on the threshold, and, casting on me a strangely wistful look, she added, "Great must bethe friendship between you and La Tournoire, that you can so confidentlyassure his protection to those for whom you ask it. "

"Oh, I have done much for him, and he cannot refuse me any request thatit is in his power to grant, " I said, truly enough. 

"Then, " she went on, "the tie is one of obligation, rather than of greatfriendship?"

"Yes. I have often been in a position to do him great services when noone else was, and when he most needed them. As for my feeling offriendship for him, I shall not even weep when he is dead. "

"Suppose you should love a woman, " she continued, with a strangeeagerness, "and there should come a time when you would have to choosebetween your love for her, and your friendship for this man, whichwould prevail?"

"I would sacrifice La Tournoire for the woman I loved, " I answered, with truth. 

She looked at me steadily, and a hope seemed to dawn in her eyes, but ina moment they darkened again; she sighed deeply, and she turned to ascendto her chamber, while I stood there trying to deduce a meaning from herstrange speeches and conduct, which I finally put down to thecapaciousness of woman. I could understand the feeling that she ought topart from a man who loved her and whom her religion forbade her to lovein return; but why she should seem pleased at the apparent lukewarmnessof my friendship for La Tournoire, whom she was willing to accept as herguide, I could not guess. Since she intended to part from me, never tosee me again, what mattered it to her whether or not I was the intimateof a proscribed ruffian? Yet she seemed glad to hear that I was not, butthis might be only seeming. I might not have read her face and tonearight. Her inquiries might have been due to curiosity alone. So Ithought no more of them, and gave my mind instead to planning how shemight be made to ignore the difference between our religions, and torevoke the edict banishing me from her side. It would be necessary thatshe should be willing to remain at Maury, with a guard composed of someof my men, while I, giving a pretext for delaying the flight and for theabsence of myself and the most of my company, should attempt the deliveryof her father from the château of Fleurier. It was my hope, though Idared not yet breathe it, that I might bring her father and my companyback to Maury, and that all of us might then proceed to Guienne. 

My meditations were interrupted by the return of Blaise from Maury, wherehe had found all well and the men there joyous at the prospect of soonrejoining the army in Guienne. A part of the company was absent on aforaging raid. Two of the roofed chambers were rapidly being madehabitable for Mlle. De Varion, whom Blaise had announced to the men as adistinguished refugee. 

When supper was ready in the kitchen, I sent Jeannotte to summon hermistress. Mademoiselle came down from her chamber, her sweet facebetokening a brave attempt to bear up under the many woes that crushedher, --the condition of her father, her own exile, the peril in which shestood of the governor's reconsidering his order and sending to make herprisoner, the seeming necessity of exchanging my guidance for that of astranger who had been painted to her in repulsive colors, and the otherunhappy elements of her situation. 

"It is strange that the boy, Pierre, has not returned, " I said, while wesat at table. 

Mademoiselle reddened. It then occurred to me that, in her abstraction, she had not even noticed his absence, and that now it came on her as anew trouble. 

"Pardon me for speaking of it in such a way as to frighten you, " I said. "There is no cause for alarm. Not finding me on the road, he may haveturned into the woods to look for me, and so have lost his way. He wouldsurely be able to find the road again. "

"I trust he will not come to any harm, " replied mademoiselle, in a lowvoice that seemed forced, as if she were concealing the fears that shereally felt. 

Jeannotte cast a sympathetic look at her mistress. 

"Shall I go and look for him?" asked Hugo, showing in his face hisanxiety for his comrade. 

"You would lose yourself, also, " I said. "Mademoiselle, I shall go, for Iknow all the hillocks and points of vantage from which he may be seen. "

"Nay, monsieur, do not give yourself the trouble, I pray you. "

But I rose from the table, to show that I was determined, and said:

"Blaise, I leave you as guard. Remember last night. "

"I am not likely to forget, " he growled, dropping his eyes before thesharp glance of Jeannotte. "Mademoiselle need have no fears. "

"But, monsieur, " said mademoiselle. She was about to continue, but hereye met Jeannotte's, and in the face of the maid was an expression as ifcounselling silence. So mademoiselle said no more, but she followed me tothe door, and stood on the threshold. 

"Monsieur, " she said, "if you do not find him within a few minutes, Ientreat that you will not put yourself to further discomfort. See, it isalready nearly dark. If he be lost in the woods for the night, he candoubtless find his way hither tomorrow. "

"I shall not seek long, mademoiselle, for the reason that I would not belong away from you. "

At that moment, feeling under my foot something different from leaves orearth, I stooped and found one of mademoiselle's gloves, which she haddropped, probably, on first entering the inn. Remaining in my kneelingposture and looking up at her sweet, sad face, I said:

"Whatever may come in the future, mademoiselle, circumstance has made meyour faithful chevalier for a day. Will you not give me some badge ofservice that I may wear forever in memory of that sweet, thoughsorrowful day?"

"Keep what you have in your hand, " she replied, in a low voice, andpointed to her glove. 

I rose, and fastened the glove on my hat, and said: "They shall findit on me when I am dead, mademoiselle. " Then I turned to go in searchof Pierre. 

"I shall go to my room now, " she said, "and so, good-night, monsieur!"

I turned, and made to take her hand that I might kiss it, but she drew itaway, and then, standing on the threshold, she raised it as one does inbestowing a _benedicite_, and said:

"God watch you through the night, monsieur!"

"And you forever, mademoiselle!" said I, but she had gone. For a momentI stood looking up at her chamber window, thinking how it had come overme again, as in the days of my youth, the longing to be near one woman. 

Night was now coming on. In the deeper shades of the forest it wasalready dark, but the sky was clear, and soon the moon would rise. Musingas I went, I walked along the road that Pierre had first taken. The onlysounds that I heard were the ceaseless chirps and whirrs of the insectsof the bushes and trees. 

When I had gone some distance, I bethought me of my heedlessness incoming away from the inn without my sword. I had taken this off beforesitting down to eat, and at my departure my mind had been so taken upwith other matters that I had omitted to put it on. My dagger was with itat the inn. At first I thought of returning for these weapons, but Iconsidered that I would not be away long, and that there was nolikelihood of my requiring weapon in these solitudes. So I continued onmy way towards a knoll whence I expected to get a good view of the road, and thus, should Pierre be returning on that road, spare myself the laborof plunging into the wood's depths and listening for the footsteps of hishorse or of himself. 

I had walked several minutes in the increasing darkness, when there cameto my ears, from the shades at the right, the sound of a human snore. Had the boy fatigued himself in trying to find the way, and fallen asleepwithout knowledge of his nearness to the inn?

"Pierre!" I called. There was no answer. 

I called again. Again there was no reply, but the snoring ceased. A thirdtime I called. My call was unheeded. 

I turned into the wilds, and forced my way through dense undergrowth. Ata short distance from the road, I came on traces of the passage of someone else. Following these, I arrived at last at a small open space, where the absence of vegetation seemed due to some natural cause. Sufficient of the day's failing light reached the clearing to show methe figures of four men on the ground before me, three of them stretchedin slumber, the fourth sitting up. The last held a huge old two-handedsword over his shoulder, ready to strike. The threatening attitude ofthis giant made me take mechanically a step backward, and feel for mysword. Alas, I was unarmed!

"So, my venturesome lackey, we meet again!" came a sarcastic voice fromthe left, and some one darted between me and the four men, facing me withdrawn sword. 

It was the Vicomte de Berquin, and a triumphant smile was on his face. 

Moved by the thought that mademoiselle's safety depended on me, I wasnot ashamed, being unarmed, to turn about for immediate flight. But I hadno sooner shown my back to M. De Berquin, than I found myself face toface with the scowling Barbemouche, who stood motionless, the point ofhis sword not many inches from my breast. 

CHAPTER XI. 

HOW THE HERO GAVE HIS WORD AND KEPT IT

I stood still and reflected. 

"You lack a weapon, " said M. De Berquin, humorously. "I shall presentlygive you mine, point first. "

As I was still facing Barbemouche, I imagined the point of the Vicomte'ssword entering my back, and I will confess that I shivered. 

"And I mine, " growled Barbemouche. "Though you are a lackey and I agentleman, yet, by the grandmother of Beelzebub, I am glad to see you!"

"Indeed!" said I, whose only hope was to gain time for thought. "This isa heartier welcome than a stranger might expect. "

De Berquin laughed. Barbemouche said, "You are no stranger"

"Then you know me?" said I. "Who am I?"

"You are the answer to a prayer, " said Barbemouche, with an ugly grin. "You thought you fooled us finely last night, and that when you had madea hole in my body you had done with me. But I got a look at you after themistake was discovered, and I vowed the virgin a dozen candles in returnfor another meeting with you. And now she has sent you to me. "

And he looked at me with such jubilant vindictiveness that I turned andfaced De Berquin, saying:

"Monsieur the Vicomte, I have made up my mind that your visage is morepleasant to look on than that of your friend. "

By this time, the other three rascals on the ground had been awakened bythe tall fellow, and the four had taken up their weapons and placedthemselves at the four sides of the open space, so that I could not makea bolt in any direction. All the circumstances that made my life at thattime doubly precious rushed into my mind. On it depended the safety ofMlle. De Varion, the rescue of her father, the expeditious return of mybrave company to our Henri's side, and certain valuable interests of ourHenri's cause. I will confess that it was for its use to mademoiselle, rather than for its use to our Henri, that I most valued, at that moment, the life which there was every chance of my speedily losing. In DeBerquin, and in Barbemouche as well, vengeance cried for my immediatedeath. Moreover, my death would remove the chief obstacle to De Berquin'shaving his will concerning Mlle. De Varion. For an instant, I thought hemight let me live that I might tell him her whereabouts, but I perceivedthat my presence was indication to him that she was near at hand. Hecould now rely on himself to find her. The opportunity of removing mefrom his way was not to be risked by delay. It was true that I mightobtain respite by announcing myself as the Sieur de la Tournoire, for hewould wish to present me alive to the governor, if he could do so. Thegovernor and the Duke of Guise would desire to season their revenge on mewith torture, and to attempt the forcing from me of secrets of our party. But to make myself known as La Tournoire was but to defer my death. Thelife that I might thus prolong could not be of any further service tomademoiselle or to Henri of Navarre. Still, I might so gain time. I mightescape; my men might rescue me. So, as a last resource, I would save mylife by disclosing myself; but I would defer this disclosure until thelast possible instant. De Berquin and Barbemouche were evidently in foramusing themselves awhile at my expense. They would prolong matters fortheir own pleasure and my own further humiliation. Meanwhile, anunexpected means of eluding them might arise. 

As for their presence there, I have always accounted for it on thissupposition: That, after their defeat on the previous night, they hadreunited in the woods, hidden themselves where they might observe ourdeparture from the inn in the morning, followed us at a distance intothe mountain forest, lost our track, and finally, knowing neither ofGodeau's inn nor of their nearness to the road, dismounted, and soughtafoot an open space in which to pass the night. Their horses wereprobably not far away. 

"Ha!" laughed De Berquin, in answer to my words and movement. "So youdon't share Barbemouche's own opinion of his beauty?"

An unctuous guffaw from the fat rascal, and a grim chuckle from gauntFrançois, indicated that Barbemouche's ugliness was a favorite subject ofmirth with his comrades. 

"The opinion of a dead lackey does not amount to much, " gutturallyobserved Barbemouche. Doubtless I should have felt the point of hisrapier between my shoulders but that he waited on the will of De Berquin. 

His tone showed that he really had the high regard for his looks that DeBerquin's words had implied. It afterward became evident to me that theugliness of this burly rascal was equalled only by his vanity. 

"Nor is a dead lackey half as useful as a living one can be, " I said, looking De Berquin straight in the eyes. 

"_Par dieu_! I admit that you have been very useful against me, and thatis why I am going to kill you, " replied De Berquin. 

"Would it not be more worthy of a man of intellect, like the Vicomte deBerquin, if I have been useful against him, to make me pay for it bybeing useful for him?" I said, quietly, without having yet the least ideaof what service I should propose doing him in return for my life. 

"Most interesting of lackeys, how might you be useful to me?" inquired DeBerquin, continuing his mood of sinister jocularity. 

How, indeed? I asked myself. Aloud I answered slowly, in order to havethe more time to think:

"In your present enterprise, monsieur. "

"The devil! What do you know of my present enterprise?" he asked, quickly. 

I saw that I had at least awakened his interest in the idea that I mightbe worth using alive. 

"I will tell you, " I answered, "if you will first ask this unpleasantperson behind me to step aside. "

"Unpleasant person!" repeated Barbemouche, astonished at my audacity. "You dog, do you speak in such terms of a gentleman?"

So he was under the delusion also that he possessed gentility. 

"Stop, Gilles!" commanded De Berquin. "Go yonder, while I listen to thisamusing knave. Let him talk awhile before he dies. "

Barbemouche sullenly went over to the side of François, and stood thereglowering at me. It was a relief to know that his sword-point was nolonger at my back. 

"Now, rascal!" said De Berquin to me. "My present enterprise, and how youcan be useful to me in it?"

"In the first place, monsieur, " I began, having no knowledge how I was tofinish, "you and your gallant company are doubtless tired, hungry, andthirsty--"

An assenting grunt from the tall fellow, and a look of keen interest onthe faces of all, showed that I had not spoken amiss. 

"You are quite lost in these woods, " I went on. "You do not know how nearyou may be to any road or to any habitation, where you might have roof, food, and drink. Heaven, in giving me the pleasure of meeting you, hasalso done you the kindness of sending one who can guide you to theseblessings. That is the first service I can do you. "

"Very well, you shall do it. I can kill you as well afterwards. "

"But I will not do it unless I have your promise, on your honor asgentlemen, to give me both my life and my liberty immediately. "

"My very modest lackey, you greatly undervalue both your life and yourliberty, if you think you can buy them from me at so small a cost. No;you offer too little. The pleasure of killing you far exceeds that ofhaving your guidance. Now that we have happily met you, we know thatthere must be shelter, food, and drink somewhere near at hand. We canfind them for ourselves in as short a time, perhaps, as it would requireyou to take us there. We shall doubtless have the happiness of meetingthere your very gallant master and the lady whom he protects with yourarm and sword. Having robbed him of his means of guarding his lovelycharge, I shall in fairness relieve him of the charge. "

I perceived here the opportunity of learning whether it was under thegovernor's orders, received through Montignac, that De Berquin pursuedmademoiselle while he came in quest of the Sieur de la Tournoire, orwhether it was on his own account. 

"Your infatuation for this lady must be very great, " I said, in a tonetoo low for his four followers to distinguish my words, "to lead you toforce your presence on her. "

"_My_ infatuation!" he repeated, and then he laughed. "My very knowinglackey, if you were better informed of my affairs, you would know that aninfatuation for Mlle. De Varion is a luxury that I cannot at presentafford. A man who has lost his estates, his money, his king's favor, andwho has fled from his creditors in Paris to prey on the provinces, thinksnot of love, but of how to refill his pockets. "

"Then it is not for love that you pursue Mile, de Varion?" I said. Inow believed, as I had first thought, that the governor had changed hismind after ordering mademoiselle to leave the province, had decided tohold her in durance, and had commissioned De Berquin to detain her, aswell as to hunt down me. But I put the question in order to get furthertime for thought. 

"For love, yes; but not for mine!" was the answer. 

This startled me. "For that of M. De la Chatre?" I asked, quickly. 

"You seem to be curious on this point, " said De Berquin, derisively. 

"If I am to die, " I replied, "you can lose nothing by gratifying mycuriosity. If I am to live, I may be the better able to serve you if yougratify it. "

"I am not one to refuse the request of a man about to die, " he said, witha self-amused look. "It is not La Chatre, the superb, whose _amour_ Ihave come into this cursed wilderness to serve. "

"Then who--?" But I stopped at the beginning of the question, as a newthought came to me. "The secretary!" I said. 

"Montignac, the modest and meditative, " replied De Berquin. 

I might have thought it. What man of his age, however given to deepstudy and secret ambition, could have been insensible to her beauty, hergrace, her gentleness? Such a youth as Montignac would pass a thousandwomen indifferently, and at last perceive in Mlle. De Varion at firstglance the perfections that distinguished her from others of her sex. Doubtless, to him, as to me, she embodied an ideal, a dream, of which hehad scarcely dared hope to find the realization. Seeing her at the inn, he had been warmed by her charms at once. He had resolved to availhimself of his power and of her helplessness. Her father in prison, herself an exile without one powerful friend, she would be at his mercy. Forbidden by his duties to leave the governor's side, he could charge DeBerquin, in giving the latter the governor's orders concerning myself, with the additional task of securing the person of mademoiselle, that hemight woo her at his leisure and in his own way. The governor, readyenough to frighten into an unwarranted exile a woman whose entreaties hefeared, would yet not be so ungallant as to give her to his secretaryfor the asking. But Montignac might safely hold her prisoner, thegovernor would think that she had left the province, there would be noneto rescue her. Such were the acts, designs, and thoughts that Iattributed to the reticent, far-seeing, resolute secretary. All passedthrough my mind in a moment. 

And now I feared for mademoiselle as I had not feared before. I neverfeared a man, or two men at a time, who came with sword in hand; but howis one to meet or even to perceive the blows aimed by men of thought andpower? Such as Montignac, inscrutable, patient, ingenious, strong enoughto conceal their own passions, which themselves are more intense and farmore lasting than the passions of a mere man of fighting, are not easilyturned aside from the quest of any object on which they have put theirdesires. One against whom they have set themselves is never safe fromthem while they live. Years do not make them either give up or forget. Montignac, by reason of his influence over the governor, had vastresources to employ. He could turn the machinery of government to his ownends, and the trustful governor not suspect. In that slim youth, smooth-faced, pale, repressed, grave, not always taking the trouble toerase from his features the signs of his scorn for ordinary minds, ascorn mingled with a sense of his own power and with a kind of derisivemirth, --in this quiet student I beheld an antagonist more formidable thanany against whom I had ever been pitted. In thinking of him, I came atonce to regard De Berquin, who still stood facing me with ready sword, and on his face the intention of killing me plainly written, as a veryinconsiderable opponent, even when backed by his four ruffians withtheir varied collection of weapons. 

If I was to save Mlle. De Varion from the designs of the far-reachingsecretary, it was time that I eluded the danger immediatelyconfronting me. 

For a few moments after De Berquin uttered the speech last recorded, Istood silent, my eyes meeting his. 

"Come, " he said, presently, impatiently giving several turns of his wristso that his sword-point described arcs in the air before my eyes. "Wewander from the subject. What service can you do me? Don't think you cankeep me talking until your party happens to come up. I intend to kill youwhen I shall have counted twenty, unless before that time you make itappear worth my while to let you live. One, two, three--"

His look showed that he had ceased to be amused at my situation. Alive, Ihad begun to bore him. It was time to make sure of his vengeance. His menstood on all sides to prevent my flight. At my least movement, he wouldthrust his rapier deep into my body. He went on counting. What could Ioffer him to make him stay his hand? Was there anything in the world thathe might desire which it would appear to be in my power to give him?

"Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, " he counted, taking exact note of thedistance between us. 

As in a flash the idea came to me. 

"Monsieur, " I said, loudly, so as to be plainly heard above his ownvoice, "let me go and I will deliver to you the Sieur de la Tournoire!"

He had reached nineteen in his count. He stopped there and stared at me. 

"The Sieur de la Tournoire, " he repeated, as if the idea of his takingthe Sieur de la Tournoire were a new one. 

"You speak, monsieur, " said I, quietly, "as if you had not come to thesehills for the purpose of catching him. "

He looked at me with a kind of surprise, but said nothing in reply to myremark. "It is natural, " thought I, "for him not to disclose his purpose, even when there is no use for him to conceal it. "

"I take La Tournoire?" he said, presently, half to himself. He stoodthinking for a time, during which I supposed that he was considering thepropriety of his personally making the capture, in view of the plan thatI had overheard Montignac suggest to the governor, namely, that the spyshould merely lure La Tournoire into an ambush where the governor'ssoldiers should make the seizure. The spy had doubtless received ordersstrictly in accordance with this plan, La Tournoire being considered toogreat game to be bagged by anything less than a company of soldiers. 

"Why not?" said I. "Whoever does so will receive a good price inaddition to the gratitude of M. De la Chatre and that of the Duke ofGuise. Indeed, the feat might even win you back the King's favor, whichyou say you have lost. "

"But suppose Montignac has other plans for the capture of this highlyvalued rebel?" said he. 

"If he had, " said I, thinking of the arrangement as to the ambush, "theywere made in the belief that La Tournoire was not to be taken by one manwith a few hired knaves. The captor of La Tournoire can afford to earnMontignac's displeasure by deviating from his orders. Should you takethis Huguenot, you would be in a position to snap your fingers atMontignac. "

"But if it is in your power to give up La Tournoire, why do you not takehim and get the reward? Why have you not done so already?"

"For the very fact which puts it in my power to do so. I am of his party. I am his trusted counsellor, lackey that I pretend to be. "

"I have, from the first, thought you a most exceptional lackey. But ifyou are of his party, and in his secrets, you must be a vile traitor togive him up. That being the case, you would not hesitate to lie to me. Indeed, even if it were not the case, you would not hesitate to lie tome, to save yourself or to gain time. "

"As to my being a vile traitor, a man will descend to much in order tosave his life. As to my readiness to lie to you, it seems to me that, in the present situation, you are the one man to whom I cannot nowafford to lie. With your sword at my throat, it is much easier for meto be a vile traitor to La Tournoire than to lie to you. Besides, Ihave my own reasons for disliking him, notwithstanding that my causeand his are the same. "

"And how do you propose to give him up to me?"

"By merely bringing him face to face with you. "

"_Par dieu_! A charming proposition! How do I know that you will not, inpretending to betray him to me, really betray me to him? Suppose you dobring him face to face with me, and his men are all around?"

"Only one of his men shall be present, " I said, thinking of Blaise. "Hewill not come without this one man. As for the others of his band, notone shall be within a league. "

"Himself and one man, " said De Berquin, musingly. "That is to say, twovery able fighters. "

"There are five of you. "

"But this Tournoire is doubtless worth three men in a fight, and his manwill probably be worth two more. I don't think your offer sufficientlyattractive. I think I would do better to kill you. Certainly, there aremany reasons why you should die. If you should escape me now, as you areone of La Tournoire's people, you would immediately go to him and tellhim of my presence here. I do not choose that he shall know as much aboutme as you do. "

"Can you suggest any amendment to my offer, so that it might be moreattractive?"

"If you could bring La Tournoire unarmed--"

"I will do that, " I said. 

De Berquin looked at me steadily for some time. At last he shook hishead and said:

"It is a fair bargain, as it now stands, but I see no way of yourcarrying out your part without putting me in danger of your betrayingme. To find La Tournoire, you would have to leave us. Once out of oursight, you would be free to ignore the contract, laugh at me for beingso easily gulled, and set La Tournoire and his men on me, which wouldentirely spoil my plans. Every minute I see more and more the necessityof killing you. "

"But I shall find La Tournoire without going out of your sight, " I said. 

De Berquin again became thoughtful. Then he laughed. 

"You mean that you would lead us up to his very den, where we should beat the mercy of his men, " he said. 

"I have already said that, with one exception, none of his men shall bewithin a league of where you are to meet him. "

"I do not see how you are going to bring him so far from his men, if youdo not go for him. "

"Leave that to me. I shall take you to a place where he will presenthimself unarmed. Excepting the man who will be with him, not one of hiscompany shall be within a league. "

"Where is the place?" asked De Berquin, still smiling ironically. 

"Not far from here. It is a place where you can get also wine and food. "

"And how am I to know that this place is not a trap into which you wishto lead me?"

"You shall walk behind me with drawn sword and dagger. At the slightestsuspicious movement or speech that I make, you can easily kill me. "

"That is true. Yet I might lose my own life the next moment. Who knowsbut that you are merely seeking to sell your life as dearly as possible, or but that you are aiming to gain time in the hope of some unexpectedoccurrence?"

"Monsieur, " said I, "we both know that men cannot read the heart. Youcannot be sure whether or not I am lying. You indeed take the risk that Iwish to lead you where you will have to pay for my life with your own, and that I am trying to gain time; but, at the same time, there is thechance that I intend to keep my word, that I intend to present the Sieurde la Tournoire unarmed, and a league away from all his men but one. Isnot that chance worth the risk? Have you not gambled, monsieur?"

From the shrug of De Berquin's shoulders, I knew that he had gambled, andalso that my argument had moved him. But another doubt darkened his face. 

"And if you do bring an unarmed person before me, how shall I know thatit is La Tournoire?" said he. 

"He shall tell you so himself. "

"Excellent proof!"

"What man but La Tournoire would risk his life by declaring himself to bethat proscribed gentleman?"

"One of his followers might do so, if he thought that he might so throwan enemy off La Tournoire's track. "

"Then the possibility of my deceiving you on that point is but anadditional risk you run, in return for the chance of your bagging thereal game. Besides, I give you my word of honor that I will truly performall that I promise. "

"The word of a lackey!" said De Berquin, derisively. 

"Have you not yourself described me as an exceptional lackey?"

"Well, I love to take chances. And as you have given me your word, theword of an exceptional lackey, I give you my word, the word of agentleman, that if you set La Tournoire unarmed before me, with but oneof his men at hand, I will give you your life and freedom. But stay! Atwhat time am I to have the pleasure of meeting him?"

"When we hear the stroke of eight from the tower of the church inClochonne. The wind this evening is from that direction. It isagreed, then?"

"Agreed!" said De Berquin. "Jacques, give me your dagger. Now, MasterLackey, lead the way. Follow, you rascals, and be ready to knock down anyperson to whom I shall direct your attention. "

And I turned and led the way to the road, followed closely by De Berquin, who held his sword in one hand and the dagger in the other. I heard theothers fall in line, and tramp their way through the brush behind him. Barbemouche must have been exceedingly surprised at his leader'sproceedings, for the conversation between De Berquin and myself had beenconducted in a tone too low for their ears. 

When we reached the road, De Berquin ordered a halt. He then commandedBarbemouche to walk at my left side, and François to walk at my right, DeBerquin retained his place behind me, and the other two rascals followedhim. In this order we proceeded towards the inn. 

My object in leading my enemies to the inn was to set them drinking. Aslong as the possibility of taking La Tournoire was before De Berquin, there was little likelihood that he would seek to molest Mlle. De Varion. In the first place, he could not take her from the vicinity while hehimself remained there awaiting the coming of La Tournoire. Secondly, hewould not court any violence during the time of waiting, lest he mightthereby risk his chance of taking La Tournoire. But it was necessary thatI should prevent his encountering Blaise or Hugo, for either one, onseeing me conducted by him as I was, might make some demonstration thatwould cause De Berquin to kill me immediately. I must contrive to keep myenemies from entering the inn, and yet to have them plied with drink. Therefore, I said, as we marched:

"Monsieur, we are approaching a kind of inn where there are to beobtained the food and drink that I promised. But in the house are somewho are devoted to the Sieur de la Tournoire. They are not any of hissoldiers, nor such as are to be feared in a fight. But if they saw youand your men, with me as a prisoner, they would certainly convey word toLa Tournoire or his band, and so it would be impossible for me to fulfilmy agreement. It is true that you would then kill me, but you would loseLa Tournoire, and have his followers soon on your heels. So it is bestthat we stop at some distance from the inn. You and I can steal up to aspot where I can quietly summon the hostess. She will do anything I ask. She will, at my order, secretly bring food and wine to the place ofwaiting, and will not betray our presence to those in the inn. "

"It seems a good idea, " said De Berquin; "but if you attempt to make afool of me--"

"You will, of course, instantly make a corpse of me, for you will be atmy side, and will hear every word that I speak to the hostess. "

"Very well, " he replied. 

Having at last reached a little clearing by the roadside quite near theinn, but hidden from it by trees, I gave the word to stop. De Berquinordered his men to remain here, sheathed his sword, clutched me by thearm, and walked forward with me, his dagger held ready to be plunged intomy heart at the slightest cause. 

I led him to the back of the inn, and we stood near the door of thekitchen, listening. 

The gypsy was still playing, and every now and then there came anexclamation of approval from Biaise. I peered through a corner of thewindow. The clutch of De Berquin on my arm tightened as I did so. I sawthe gypsy man playing, Biaise and Hugo sitting with wine mugs beforethem, aid Godeau by the fire asleep, the gypsy girl with her head on thetable, she also asleep, and Marianne removing platters from the table. Jeannotte had doubtless gone up the ladder to her mistress. 

Presently Marianne came out with some bones of a fowl, to throwthem away. 

"Marianne, " I called, softly. "Not a word! Come here and listen"

With some astonishment she obeyed. De Berquin now held his drawn daggerunder his cloak, and his clutch on my arm, though tight, might yet appearto her that of a friend. 

"Marianne, " said I, "it is very important that no one within--no one, remember--shall know that this gentleman is with me. I have a seriousmatter to talk over with him at the clearing yonder, where four of hispeople now wait. No one is to know of their presence any more than ofhis. Bring plenty of wine to us there with what food you can get withoutexciting the curiosity of those inside. Do you understand? But not aword, even to me now. "

She nodded her head, and went back into the kitchen. I knew that I couldrely on her. "Come, monsieur, " I whispered to De Berquin, and we wentsilently back to the clearing. 

The four rascals were seated on the ground, conversing in low tones. DeBerquin and I sat down in the midst of the group. The fellows went ontalking, regardless of the presence of their leader, who gave no heed totheir babble, except occasionally by a gesture to caution Barbemouche tolessen his volume of voice. 

"I never knew an enterprise to run smoothly which had anything to do withwomen, " Barbemouche was saying. "Where men only are concerned, one knowsexactly what to do, and makes no mistakes. "

"You have a prejudice against the sex, " put in the foppish fellow. 

"_Par dieu_! I ought not to have!" answered Barbemouche. "I owe themtoo much for the many favors I've had from them. But they aremystifying creatures. To mistake a maid for her mistress is nothingremarkable. For that matter, I've known women of the lower orders whohad more airs than great ladies. I remember once, after having justmade an easy conquest of a countess, and become ennuied with her, Iturned my attention to the daughter of a pastry-cook in Paris. She dugdeep holes in my face for merely trying to kiss her. She had velvetlips, that girl, but what claws!"

The gaunt rascal, whom they called François, heaved a pensive sigh, as ifthis reminiscence awakened touching memories in him. 

"And yet, to show the perversity of the sex, " continued Barbemouche, "that same day I saw another man kiss her, and she gave him back twokisses for his one. "

"Perhaps he was a handsome man, " said the fat fellow, sagely. 

"Yes, " replied Barbemouche, ingenuously, "but no handsomer than I. "

"At that time you were probably handsomer even than you are now, " drylyobserved the gaunt man. 

"You are right, " said Barbemouche, "for I was young, and I did not havethis scar, " and he thrust back the rim of his hat and laid his hand onhis forehead. 

"In what fight with the watch did you get that?" inquired François. 

"I got it as the Duke of Guise got his, fighting the enemies of thechurch, though not in the same battle. I received mine that St. Bartholomew's night when we made the streets of Paris flow with hereticblood. A cursed Huguenot gave it me, but I gave him another to matchmine, and left him for the crowd to trample over. "

I gave a start, recalling the incident of which I had so recently heardthe account, and which seemed the counterpart of this. 

At this moment, Marianne appeared at the bend of the road. She carrieda huge wooden platter, on which were a bowl of mulled wine, some mugs, and some cheese, bread, and scraps of cold meat. I afterward learnedthat she had begun to prepare this wine some time before, thinkingthat I and Blaise and the boys would want it after my return from mysearch for Pierre. Knowing Blaise's capacity, she had made ready sogreat a quantity. 

Saying not a word, she set down the platter on the ground before me. 

"That is well, " I said. "Now go back to the inn and step often to thedoor, so that I can easily summon you again without attracting theattention of the others. And get more wine ready. "

The woman nodded, and went back to the inn. 

The four ruffians made an immediate onslaught on the platter. De Berquinand François ignored the food, that they might the sooner dip their mugsinto the bowl of wine. The other three speedily disposed of all theeatables, and then joined in the drinking. De Berquin, in order to grasphis mug, had let my arm go, but he retained his dagger in his other hand, and each of his followers used but one hand in eating or drinking, holding a weapon in the other. 

"Look you, rascals!" said De Berquin to his men, presently. "Be carefulto keep your wits about you!"

"Rascals!" repeated the tall fellow, his pride awakened by his second mugof wine. "By the bones of my ancestors, it goes against me to be so oftencalled rascal!"

Barbemouche saw an opportunity to retaliate for the fun that had beenmade of his pretensions to beauty. "They whom the term fits, " he growled, "ought not to complain, if I endure it, who am a gentleman!"

Instantly the bearded giant was on his feet, with his huge sword poisedin the air. 

"Rascal yourself twice over, and no gentleman!" he cried, quivering withnoble wrath. 

"What, you lank scarecrow!" said Barbemouche, rising in his turn, andrushing to meet the other. 

Their fat comrade now rose and thrust his sword between the two, for thepurpose of striking up their weapons. The fop ran behind a tree, to besafe from the fracas. 

At the instant when François was about to bring his great sword down onBarbemouche, and the latter was about to puncture him somewhere near theribs, there came the sound of the Angelus, borne on the breeze fromClochonne. The two antagonists stood as if transformed into statues, their weapons in their respective positions of offence. Each in his waymoved his lips in his accustomed prayer until the sound of the distantbell ceased. 

"Now, then, for your dirty blood!" roared Barbemouche, instantly resuminganimation. 

But his fat comrade knocked aside Barbemouche's sword, and at the sametime pushed François out of striking distance. 

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, " cried the fat rascal, reproachfully, "would youspoil this affair and rob me of my share of the pay? God knows we are allgentlemen, and rascals, too!"

"Very well, " said Barbemouche, relieved by his brief explosion of wrath, "this matter can wait. "

"I can wait as well as another man, " said François, with dignity, whereupon both men resumed their seats on the turf and their attentionsto the wine. The prudent Jacques returned to the circle, and De Berquin, who during the squabble had employed himself entirely in holding me fromany attempt at escape, looked relieved. 

The effect of the wine on him was to make him merry, so that he sooninvited me to join in the drinking, and I made a pretense of doing so. When the bowl was empty, he went with me again to summon Marianne, whichwe easily did, as she was standing at the door awaiting my reappearance. She brought us another pot of wine, and left us as she had before done. De Berquin became more and more gaily disposed. He put no limit to thequantity imbibed by his men; yet he kept his eyes on me, and his daggerdangerously near my breast. 

When we heard the clock in Clochonne strike seven, he said to his men:

"Straighten up, you dogs! In another hour we shall have work to do. "Turning to me, he added, with a grin, "Either to chain that wild beast, La Tournoire, or to send the most entertaining of valets to find outwhether all that they say of purgatory and hell is true. "

But he soon became so lax under the influence of the wine that he did notheed when the fat man and the ragged dandy dropped off to sleep andmingled their snores with the murmurs of the forest insects. He began tonarrate his adventures, amatory, military, bibulous, and other. Presently, for a jest, he drank the health of Henri of Navarre in returnfor my drinking that of the Pope. 

By this time Barbemouche and gaunt François had added their breathings tothe somnolent choir. 

"You are a mighty drinker, monsieur, " I said to De Berquin, admiringly, at the same time refilling my own mug. 

"Ask of the cabaret keepers of Paris whether the Vicomte de Berquin canhold his share of the good red vine-juice!" he replied, jubilantly, dipping his mug again into the pot. 

I took a gulp from my mug and pretended to choke. In one of myconvulsive movements, I threw the contents of my mug into the eyes of DeBerquin. I followed it an instant later with the mug itself, and he fellback on the grass, half-stunned. In the moment when his grasp of my armwas relaxed, I slipped away from him, narrowly missing the wild daggerstroke that he made at me. A second later and I was on my feet. My firstact was to possess the weapons of Barbemouche and François, these twobeing nearest me. I then ran towards the inn, calling at the top of myvoice, "Blaise! To arms!"

Behind me I heard De Berquin, who had risen, kicking the prostrate bodiesof his men and crying:

"Up, you drunken dogs! We have been fooled! After him!"

Then I heard him running after me on the road, swearing terribly. 

From the place where he had left his men, I could hear them confusedlyswearing and questioning one another, all having been rudely awakenedfrom sleep, two of them being unable to find their weapons, and noneknowing rightly what had occurred or exactly where their leader had gone. 

Blaise came running out of the inn, with sword drawn. When he hadjoined me, I stopped and turned to face De Berquin. He was before meere I had time to explain to Blaise. In his rage, he made a violentthrust at me, which Blaise turned aside. De Berquin then leaped back, to put himself on guard. 

At that instant, the first stroke of eight came from the distant towerof Clochonne. 

"Filthy cur, you have lied to me!" cried De Berquin. 

"Nay, monsieur, " I answered, throwing from me the weapons of Barbemoucheand François, "I keep my word. I promised you La Tournoire unarmed. Behold him!"

And I stepped out from beside Blaise and stood with open arms. 

"La Tournoire!" repeated De Berquin, taking a backward step and staringat me with open mouth. 

"La Tournoire!" came in a faint, horror-stricken voice from behind me. 

I turned and beheld mademoiselle, who had come out from the inn onhearing my call for Blaise. With her were Hugo and Jeannotte. Behind werethe inn-keepers and the gypsies. On mademoiselle's face, which waslighted by a torch that Hugo carried, was a death-like pallor, and such alook of horror, grief, and self-reproach, as I have never seen on anyother human countenance. 

"Mademoiselle!" I cried, hastening to her side. "What is the matter?"

"'Tis but--surprise, --M. De la Tournoire!" she answered, weakly, raisingher hand feebly as if to keep me from approaching her, while her eyes, which were fixed on mine as by a terrible fascination, seemed to bestarting from her head. An instant later, she fell in a swoon, and I wasjust in time to save her from striking the ground and to pillow her headon my arm. 

As for De Berquin, he had made a rush at me, but Blaise had repulsed himwith such fury that, seeing no hope of being joined by his men, he soonturned and fled. 

I bore the senseless body of mademoiselle into the inn, vainly askingmyself why she had shown so profound a distress at my disclosure. 

CHAPTER XII. 

AT THE CHÂTEAU OF MAURY

Presently mademoiselle recovered from her faintness and went up to herchamber, supported by Jeannotte. Her eyes met mine as she was about togo, but she immediately dropped them, and seemed by an effort to represssome kind of emotion. 

With a heart saddened by the sight of mademoiselle's distress, I thenmade arrangements for the night. I was to lie at the front door of theinn, Blaise at the rear door, Hugo and the gypsies in the horse sheds, Marianne in the chamber with mademoiselle and Jeannotte, old Godeau wherehe chose. It happened that he chose a place before the smouldering firein the kitchen. 

Any further attempt to find Pierre that night was out of the question. Idared not leave the inn again, lest I should expose mademoiselle topossible molestation, or myself to an encounter with those from whom Ihad just escaped. Had mademoiselle's safety not depended on that ofmyself and Blaise, I might have invited such an encounter for myself orfor him or for both, but I would not have her undergo the slightest riskof losing her protectors. 

I had little apprehension of seeing De Berquin or his men again thatnight. Not that he would probably remember his promise to give me my lifeand liberty in return for my bringing La Tournoire before him. Even thatpromise, if still respected by him, did not affect him in regard tomademoiselle. But he would consider that, though I was not accompanied byany of my own men except Blaise, mademoiselle's boy, Hugo, would wield astout arm on our side. Unless he knew something of Pierre'sdisappearance, he would count that active youth also with our forces. Hehad doubtless taken in at a glance the group composed of Godeau, thegypsies, and Marianne; and he would suppose that I could reckon onassistance of one kind or another from some or all of these. Thus, havingno odds in his favor, and knowing that we would be on the alert, he wouldbe little likely to make any kind of demonstration against us. Moreover, two of his men finding themselves without their weapons, and all of themangry at the manner of their awakening, they would probably receive verybadly the curses that he would heap on them for their failure to come upto his support. Their attitude would, for the rest of that night, be oneof mutiny. It was likely that he would retreat and meditate a new plan. He would not feel safe in the immediate vicinity of the inn, for itwould occur to him that I might send one of my allies to my men withorders to take him. So he would withdraw and either give up theenterprise entirely or form a new design. 

Now that he knew that I was La Tournoire, what would he do? Abandon hismission, since my knowledge of him would put me on my guard against him, and forbid his winning my confidence and betraying me in the way which, Isupposed, Montignac had dictated to him? It was not likely that such aman, having found only one road by which he might regain the good thingshe had lost, would be turned aside from that road. He would follow it tosuccess or death. Such men are too indolent to go about seekingopportunities. Having found one, they will pursue it wherever it maylead. Their fortunes are so desperate that they have only their lives tolose, and they are so brave that they do not fear death. If they can gainthe stakes, so much the better. If not, little the worse. Meanwhile, theyare occupied in a way congenial to a man who loves adventure, who hasinherited the taste for danger, and finds a pleasurable excitement inrisking his life. Therefore I felt that De Berquin was not yet throughwith me, but he would have to change his plan, and, until he should havetime to compose new measures, he would not trouble us. 

As I lay in the silence, my thoughts turned from De Berquin to Mlle. DeVarion. Her demonstration on learning that I was La Tournoire was inharmony with the manner in which she had previously questioned meconcerning my friendship for the bearer of that name. Grieved at thethought that I was his friend, relieved at my assertion that I did not sohighly esteem him, she had shown the utmost horror on learning that I wasthe man himself. Could this be due entirely to the impression conveyed bya name to which the Catholics in Berry had attached so much dread? It wasnatural that one should regard with some terror a man whose deeds hadbeen so exaggerated by vulgar report; but this fact did not explain theintensity of mademoiselle's emotion at the moment of my disclosure. Yetshe had attributed that emotion entirely to surprise. Perhaps theextraordinary manifestation of that surprise was due to her fatigued anddejected condition. Or it might be, and I felt a delicious thrill at thethought, that it was her concern for me, her fear that my life might bethe more imperilled by my relations with this proscribed man, that hadcaused the distress accompanying her first inquiries. If this was true, the discovery that I was no other than the man proscribed, and all themore in danger, would naturally have profoundly affected her. 

In the morning she came down from her loft, pale and showing a calmnessthat seemed forced. To my greeting and my announcement that Pierre hadnot returned, she replied, quietly:

"He is a faithful and honest boy, and I have prayed that no harm mightbefall him. His disappearance must not be allowed to alter your plans, M. De la Tournoire. "

"I shall leave orders with Marianne and Godeau to conduct him to Maury, should he return to this place, as he very probably will. If you do notwish otherwise, we shall ride on to Maury this morning. "

"I do not wish otherwise, " she replied. After a moment's pause, sheadded, "Alas, monsieur, your friend, M. De Launay, when be promised meyour guidance across the border, engaged you to a more tedious task thanyou might have wished to undertake. I fear that I must ask for a delay atMaury. You see what trouble your friend has brought you into, --waitinguntil a poor woman, who has been overcome by fatigue, recovers herenergies. "

"Ah, mademoiselle, " I said, with delight, "you will then hold me to thepromise made for me by my friend?"

"What else can a helpless woman do?" she asked, with a pretty smile, although there was a tremor in the voice. 

I was overjoyed to be assured that she had accepted the situation. I hadpromised that, on her becoming acquainted with La Tournoire, she shouldhave no other protector. This had meant to her, at the time when it wasspoken, that I should go from her. To me it had meant, of course, that Ishould continue with her. I had feared that, on learning the truth, shewould banish me. She had said that we must part. But now, despite thefact that the same barrier existed between me and her, whether I was LaTournoire or De Launay, despite her horror on learning that I was theformer, she had abandoned her intention of parting from me. What hadcaused this change of mind? Had she, now that I was known to her as LaTournoire, ceased to entertain for me those feelings which she had, onaccount of our difference in religion, sought by an immediate separationto destroy? This was unlikely. La Tournoire or De Launay, I was the sameman. I chose a happier explanation, --none other than that, considering bynight, she had come to the conclusion that a religious difference was nottoo great a barrier to be removed, and that La Tournoire was not a personto be regarded with any horror. Though modesty might plead against hercontinuing in the company of a man with whom she exchanged such feelingsas had so rapidly grown up between us, yet circumstance, most imperativeof all dictators, showed her no other course than to remain under myguidance and protection. So I accounted for the decision which was tokeep us together for a few more days. 

I was not sorry that she had asked for a delay at Maury. It relieved meof the necessity of making a pretext for retarding her flight while Ishould attempt the rescue of her father. The reason to be given for theabsence of myself and a party of my men need not be a strong one whenthere was no apparent haste to continue the flight. I was stilldetermined to keep the attempt in her father's behalf a secret from herif it should fail, and as a surprise for her if successful. 

Inwardly jubilant with the hope inspired by her change of mind, Ihastened to give the innocent reasons for the concealment of my identityfrom her. She listened with a changeless smile, keeping her eyes on mine. Before she could answer, Marianne announced that breakfast was ready. Nofurther allusion was made to the matter, nor to her now abandoneddetermination that we should part. 

After breakfast, our party of five mounted our horses, and, led byBlaise, forced our way through the high bushes that marked the beginningof the hardly perceptible road to Maury. The two gypsies followed afoot, for, knowing that I could rely on their fidelity and secrecy, I had badethem come, that their music and tricks might amuse mademoiselle duringher stay at Maury. 

It was a beautiful morning, and I considered that I had many reasons forjoy. Mademoiselle, too, seemed affected by the sweetness and jocundity ofthe early day. She had evidently nerved herself, too, against her griefs. She seemed to have summoned a large stock of resolution to the task offacing her troubles without a tear. It appeared that she had banisheddejection by an effort of the will. All the time it was evident that hermanner was the result of a vigilant determination. I was, nevertheless, glad to see a smile, a steadiness of look, a set lip, though they wereattained with premeditation. There was in her conversation, as we rode onour slow and difficult way, something of the woman of the world. As wehad to go in single file, and so to speak loudly in order to be heard byone another, our talk could not take on the themes and tones oftenderness that I would have gladly given to it. 

Presently from a bush at the side of the path a man sprang up, saluted, and stood respectfully while we passed him. It was one of my men, Maugert, on duty as sentry, for I kept men watching every approach to ourhiding-place night and day. They lay secreted among the brushwood, andwould observe an intruder long before the intruder could be aware oftheir presence. A few minutes later we passed another of these faithfulsentinels, who rose out of his concealment to give me a look of welcome, and soon afterward we rode through the ruined gate into the oldcourtyard itself. 

"Welcome to Maury!" said I to mademoiselle. 

She looked up at the broken façade of the château, around at the treesthat environed the walls and in some places pushed their branches throughopenings, then at some of my men, who had been mending their clothes ortinkering at their weapons. 

"I shall feel safe at Maury, monsieur, " she said, quietly. 

Thus Mlle. De Varion became my guest in that wilderness fastness. I gaveher the two chambers in best preservation, one of them being immediatelyover the chief entrance and overlooking the courtyard. My own abode wasin the northern turret, looking down the steep wooded declivity that fellto the road from Clochonne to Narjec. Hugo was to sleep outside her door. My own men made their beds in the great hall and in certain shelteredportions of the wings and outbuildings. They usually ate in this hall, receiving their food on platters from the cook (happily the kitchen hadremained fit for use), and bearing it thither. It was arranged that Hugoshould carry the meals of mademoiselle and Jeannotte to mademoiselle'sapartments. 

It was more after our arrival than during our ride to Maury thatmademoiselle showed the fatigue of which she had spoken. It was evidentthat she had reached a resting-place none too soon. Weakness wasmanifest in all her movements as well as in the pallor of her cheeks. Yet, though she languished thus, she did not keep all the time to herchamber. Each morning she came down to walk about the courtyard, sayingthat the air and sunshine--as much as found its way through theoverspreading branches of the trees--strengthened her. There was in onecorner of the yard an old stone bench, which, in good weather, was for agreat part of the afternoon half in sun and half in shade. Here she wouldsit by the hour, changing her position as sunlight or shade becamepreferable for the moment. 

Morning or afternoon, I was never far from her. For I had had to deferfrom day to day the first steps towards the projected deliverance of M. De Varion. On our arrival I had found that some of the men on whose aid Iwould most depend were away on a foraging expedition. Each hour I lookedfor their return, but in vain. Their absence had now become so prolongedas to be a cause of alarm. My anxiety about them, and my concern overother matters, took up so much of my mind that little was left in whichto devise a plan for the rescue of the prisoner, and I would not make thefirst move until the whole design should be complete. 

As days passed, and mademoiselle's missing boy, Pierre, did not come, Iceased to hope that we should ever see him again. Had he found his wayto the inn where he had left us, Marianne or Godeau would have broughthim to Maury immediately. It was useless to speculate as to what mighthave become of him. He might have perished in the forest, or found hisway to Clochonne, or fallen in with De Berquin and suffered for havingbeen of our party. When his disappearance was mentioned, Jeannotte wouldlook at mademoiselle, and mademoiselle would say:

"Poor boy! I pray that no evil may have befallen him. He was fidelityitself. He would die for me!"

But she did not give herself up to poignant sorrow on his account, or, indeed, since the night at Godeau's inn, on account of anything. Sheseemed to have set herself to bear her troubles in Spartan manner, and tofind in herself, perhaps with surprise, the strength to do so. 

So the days passed, and still my plans in regard to her father remainedunformed, the men on whom I relied did not appear, and mademoiselle didnot speak of resuming her flight southward. There came no further sign ofthe existence of De Berquin. From or of the outside world we heardnothing, save occasionally, when the wind was in the right direction, thefaint sound of the bell of Clochonne. We seemed to dwell apart, in aregion of our own, an enchanted forest which none other might enter, aplace where we were forever safe from the strife of humanity, the touchof war, the reach of the King's edicts, the power of provincialgovernors, the vengeance of the great. The gypsies remained with us, andsweetened the time with their songs and the music of their instruments. My men treated mademoiselle with the utmost respect. I had caused them toknow that she was a refugee, a lady most precious in my esteem, one forwhose safety and happiness any other consideration must, should occasionarise, be sacrificed. The weather was dry, sunny, and, for the time ofyear, mild. It was like a sweet dream, and I, for one, had no premonitionof the awakening that was to come. 

Often during that time I spoke of my love for her. I told her that, tome, at least, religion was not so much as to drive me from the woman whomI had so long sought in vain among the beauties of our Henri's court, whom I had so long worshipped in the ideal, whom I had instantlyrecognized as being the embodiment of that ideal, of whose presence Icould not endure to be deprived even in thought. 

She would sit looking in my eyes while I told her these things. Sometimesshe would seem to yield to a kind of bliss in hearing them, to forget allelse than ourselves and my words. Then suddenly a look of anguish wouldcome on her features, she would rise and press her hands to her eyes, asif to blot out the memory of my look, and say:

"Monsieur, you must not! You must not! You do not know! Oh, if you knew!"

And she would quickly glide away into the château, keeping her faceturned from me until she had disappeared. 

I began to think that there might be another obstacle than that of ourdifference in religion. Perhaps a promise to another or some vow! But Iswore to myself that, whatever the obstacle might be, I would removeit. The only matter for present disposition was to get her consent tomy doing so. 

She would soon return, composed and smiling, with no sign of wishing toelude me. For the life of me, I could not long refrain from the subjectthat had before so strangely put her to flight. 

Sometimes when I talked in the strain of love, joy and pain would succeedeach other on her face, sometimes they would seem to be present at thesame moment. From the look of complete abandonment to happiness thatsometimes, though never for long, shone on her features, I felt that sheloved me, and that eventually her love would gain the victory. Icontinually tried to elicit an expression of her feelings in words. Sweetto me as was the frequent confession of her looks, I sought a confessionin speech also. 

One afternoon, as we stood on a little spur that rose from the declivitybelow the château, and whence through a small opening between trees couldbe seen the river, the smiling plain, and afar the high-perched châteauof Clochonne, I asked her:

"Why is it that when I speak of what most occupies my heart you becomesilent or sorrowful, or go suddenly from me?"

With assumed lightness she replied:

"Can a woman explain her capricious doings any more than a man canunderstand them? It is well known that we do unaccountable things. "

Not heeding this evasion, I went on:

"I sometimes fear that you imagine some other barrier between us than theone of religion. Is it that some other gentleman--?"

"Oh, no, monsieur!" she answered, quickly and earnestly, before I hadtime to finish the question. 

"Is there, then, some vow or girlish resolution?"

She shook her head negatively in reply, but would not give me any moresatisfaction. 

At last I said, abruptly, "Do you, then, wish me not to love you?"

She looked at me first as if she would answer yes, and then as if shewould answer no, and finally, after a sigh, she said:

"Can we cause things by wishing?"

Finally, as a last means of trying her, I said:

"Mademoiselle, I have been thinking that it might be better if I were togo on alone to Guienne, and leave Blaise and my men to conduct you whenyou are able to follow. "

She regarded me strangely, first as if the suggestion were a welcome one, then, --while her brow darkened, and a kind of mental anguish forceditself into her expression, --as if the plan were not at all acceptable. 

"But you will not do that, monsieur?" was all that she said. 

I could but sigh in puzzlement, and abandon my attempt to make her tellher feelings. 

Sometimes I would suddenly turn my eyes towards her, and catch herlooking at me with mingled tenderness and pity, as a man condemned to diemight be looked on by the woman who loved him. At those times I thoughtthat she had some fear or foreboding that I might yet fall a victim tothe vengeance of those whom I had offended. Sometimes her look quitestartled me, for it contained, besides a world of grief and pity, something of self-reproach. I then supposed that she blamed herself forallowing her fatigue to delay me in my departure from the province. 

But these demonstrations did not often escape her. She oftenest showedthe forced cheerfulness that I have already mentioned. The moments whenany kind of distress showed itself were exceptional, and many of themwere caused by the persistence with which I sought a response in words tomy declarations of love. 

There came at last the afternoon--how well I remember it!--when we sattogether on the stone bench in the sunlit part of the old courtyard. Through the interstices of the overspreading branches we could see aperfectly clear blue sky. The slightest movement of air made the leavesrustle sleepily, dreamily. Save the chirping of the birds, no other soundemanated from the forest. The murmur of the river at the foot of thewooded steep came up to us. In a corner of the yard the two gypsies layasleep. Some of my men were off on various employments. A few had gonefor game; others to fish. One of them, Frojac, was in Clochonne disguisedas a peasant, to keep a watch on the garrison there. The party offoragers had not returned. Of the men at the château, those who were noton guard were with Blaise Tripault in the great hall, where they had justfinished eating and drinking, Hugo had gone to the stables to feedmademoiselle's horses. Jeannotte was asleep in her chamber. Mademoiselleand I sat in silence, in the midst of a solitude, a remote tranquillity, a dreamy repose that it was difficult to imagine as ever to be broken. 

She seemed to yield to the benign influence of this enchanted place. Sheleaned back restfully, closed her eyes, and smiled. 

Suddenly there came from within the château the sound of my men singing. Their rude, strong voices were low at first, but they rose in pitch andvolume as their song progressed. Mademoiselle ceased to smile, opened hereyes, again took on the look of dark foreboding. The song had an ominousring. It was one of the Huguenot war hymns sung in the army of our Henri:

 "With pricking of steel Our foe we have sped, We've peppered his heel With pellets of lead, And the battles we win are the gifts of the Lord, Who pointeth our cannon and guideth our sword. We fire and we charge and there's nothing can barWhen we fight in the track of the King of Navarre. Then down, down, down with the Duke of Guise! Death, death, death to our enemies! And glory, we sing, to God and our King, And death to the foes of Navarre!"

The melody was grim and stirring. The men's voices vibrated with war-likewrath. They were impatient for battles, charges, the kind of fightingthat is done between great armies on the open field, when there is theroar and smoke of cannon, the rattle of small firearms, the clash ofsteel, the cries of captains, the shrieks and groans of wounded, theplenteous spilling of blood. They were hungry for carnage. 

"There is no cause to shudder, mademoiselle, " said I, perceiving theeffect that the song had on her; "we are far away from fighting. There isno danger here. "

"There may be dangers of which you do not guess, " she answered. 

As if to verify her words, a sudden, sharp cry broke the stillness. Itcame from the forest path by which we had arrived at the château. It wasthe voice of one of my sentinels challenging a newcomer. 

"It is I, " came the reply. "I have important news for the captain. "

"Oh, it is you, Marianne?" replied the man on guard. "I didn't know youfor an instant, you appeared so suddenly, without any noise. "

I hastened to the gate and called, "Come, Marianne, what is it?"

She came up puffing and perspiring. So breathless was she that she had tosit down on a bench in the courtyard before she could answer me. 

"Oh, monsieur!" she said, when she had recovered some breath. "Look toyourself! The governor of the province is at Clochonne!"

"The devil!" I said, and turned to see the effect of this news onmademoiselle. 

She was standing, trembling, as white as death, her one hand on the backof the bench for support. 

"Be not alarmed, mademoiselle, " I said, "Clochonne is not Maury! They donot know our hiding-place. How did you learn, Marianne, and what else doyou know?"

Mademoiselle stood perfectly still and fixed her eyes on Marianne, awaiting the latter's answers with apparently as much interest as Imyself felt. 

"Godeau went to Clochonne this morning with some eggs to sell, andlearned that the governor arrived last night and occupies the château, "said Marianne. 

"With how many men?" I asked. 

"Godeau said that the courtyard of the château and the market-place ofthe town were full of men-at-arms, but he did not wait to find out howmany there were. He knew what he would catch from me if he did notimmediately bring me the news, that I might let you know. So he came homeat once, and as soon as I had heard it I started for this place. "

"I thank you, Marianne. You are the best of women. Yet it may not be onour account that M. De la Chatre honors Clochonne with a visit. "

It was, indeed, true that the governor would naturally visit his bordertowns at a time when war might be expected soon to enter his province. Yet I could not help thinking that his coming at this particular time hadsomething to do with his plan to capture me. I remembered what courseMontignac had advised him to take: to wait until his spy should havelocated me and sent him word of my hiding-place, then to come toClochonne, whither the spy, on learning of his presence, should send himthe information that would enable him to lay an ambuscade for me. Thiswas a good plan, for a premature arrival of the governor at Clochonnemight give me time to flee before my whereabouts should be known to thespy; but, knowing my exact whereabouts, La Chatre could first takemeasures for cutting off my flight, and then risk nothing by coming toClochonne. Moreover, should the spy fail as to the ambush, the governor'sacquaintance with my whereabouts would serve him in a chase that he mightmake with his soldiers. The ambush was but a device more likely tosucceed than an open search and attack. It was, if at all possible, easier, and would cost the governor no lives. 

Now, if the plan suggested by Montignac was being carried out, thegovernor's arrival at Clochonne meant that his spy had sent him word ofmy hiding-place. But could De Berquin have done so? He had previouslyshown some skill in secret pursuit. Had he eluded the vigilance of mysentinels, learned that we were at Maury, and sent one of his men to thegovernor with the information? It was improbable, yet nothing occurs moreoften than the improbable. So I asked Marianne:

"Have you seen anything of the five men who drank with me the night youcarried wine to us from the inn?"

"Not since that night, monsieur. "

"And you have no more news than you have told me?"

"Nothing more, monsieur; so, if you please, I will hurry back, formy old man is sure to have fallen asleep, and it would be a pity ifthe governor's men should come by the forest road without beingseen. Be sure, if they come after I reach home, you shall know of itin good time. "

I bade her go, and turned to mademoiselle. 

She was as pale as a white lily. As soon as my eye met hers, she said, ina faint voice:

"I am going in, monsieur. I am tired. No, I can go alone. Do not beconcerned about me. I shall soon feel better. "

And she went rapidly into the château, giving me no time in which toassure her that there was no reason for immediate alarm. 

I wished to consider Marianne's news before communicating it to any of mymen. I had to inquire of myself whether it called for any immediateaction on my part. So that my meditations might not be interrupted, Ileft the château and walked into the forest. 

For hours I considered the possible relations of the governor's arrivalto mademoiselle's safety and my own, to that of my men and our cause, andto my intention of delivering M. De Varion from prison. But I couldarrive at no conclusion, for I knew neither the governor's intentions, nor what information he had concerning me. There were so manyprobabilities and so many possible combinations of them, that at last Ithrew the whole matter from my mind, determining to await events. On theway back to the château I reproached myself for having wasted so muchtime in making useless guesses, for when I found myself at the gate itwas night, and the moon had risen. 

I stopped at the entrance and stood still to listen to the voice ofBlaise, which rose in the courtyard in the words of a psalm. He sang itwith a gentleness the very reverse of the feeling his voice had expressedin the war hymn a few hours earlier. From a sound that came between thewords now and then, I knew that he was engaged in one of his favoriteoccupations, that of polishing his weapons. 

Pleased to hear him singing in the moonlight, I stood at the gate, lestby entering I might interrupt the psalm. 

Presently, at the end of the stanza, I heard another voice from thedoorway of the château. 

"Ah, Blaise, " said Jeannotte, "it is the spirit of your mother thatcontrols you now. "

He made no answer, nor did he resume his singing. Then I recalled thatfor the past few days he had not shown his former susceptibility to themaid's charms; he had, indeed, exhibited towards her a kind ofdisapproving shyness. I had not attached any importance to this. 

"Why do you not go on singing your psalm?" Jeannotte asked, comingnearer to him. 

His answer was a strange one. It was spoken with a kind of contemptuousirony and searching interrogation. The words were:

"Mademoiselle's boy Pierre has not yet come back to us. "

"What has that to do with your singing?" said Jeannotte. "We all know itvery well. Poor Pierre! To think that he may have been taken by Monsieurde Berquin!"

"It is well that he did not know the place of our destination when hewent away, " said Blaise, in the same insignificant tone, "else M. DeBerquin might torture the secret out of him, and carry it to the governorof the province, for M. De Berquin knows now that my master is LaTournoire. It would not be well for the boy, or any one else, to be themeans of the governor's learning La Tournoire's hiding-place!"

After which words, spoken with a kind of ominous menace, Blaise abruptlyleft the girl, and strode around the corner of the château. The maidstood still a few moments, then went into the château. 

Completely mystified, I crossed the courtyard and called Blaise. 

"M. De la Chatre is at Clochonne, " I said, abruptly, as soon as he wasbefore me. 

He stood still, returning my gaze. Presently he said:

"Do you think that he has learned where you are?"

"Through M. De Berquin?" I said, as if completing his question. 

"Or any one else?" he said, in a low voice. "There was the boy whodisappeared, for instance. "

"But he did not know our hiding-place when he left. He did not know hownear we then were to it. He did not then know that I was La Tournoire. "

"But there was much talk of La Tournoire on the journey. Did you at anytime drop any hint of this place, and how it might be reached?"

"None that could have reached his ears. I told only Mlle. De Varion, andwe were quite alone when I did so. "

Blaise looked at the ground in silence. After some time he gave a heavysigh, and, raising his eyes, said:

"Monsieur, I have been thinking of many things of late. Certain mattershave had a strange appearance. But, --well, perhaps my thoughts have beenabsurd, and, in short, I have nothing to say about them except this, monsieur, it is well to be on one's guard always against every one!"

I was about to ask him whether he meant that the boy Pierre had beenguilty of eavesdropping and treachery, and to reprove him for thatunworthy suspicion, when there was a noise at the gate. Looking thither, I saw two of my men, Sabray and Roquelin, conducting into the courtyardthree starved-looking persons, who leaned wearily on one another'sshoulders, and seemed ready to drop with fatigue. 

"We found these wretches in the woods, " explained Sabray. "They areCatholics, although that one tried to hide his cross and shouted, 'Downwith the mass!' when we told them to surrender in the name of the Sieurde la Tournoire. "

"It is true that I was a Catholic, " whined the bedraggled fop who hadbelonged to De Berquin's band of four; "but I was just about to abjurewhen these men came up. "

"I will abjure twice over, if it pleases monsieur, " put in the tallSpanish-looking ruffian. "Nothing would delight me more than to be aHuguenot. By the windpipe of the Pope, for a flagon of wine I wouldbe a Jew!"

"And I a damned infidel Turk, " wearily added their fat comrade, "for aroast fowl, and a place to lay my miserable body!"

At this moment the fop's eyes fell on Blaise. 

"Saint Marie!" he cried, falling to his knees. "We are dead men. It isthe big fellow we trussed up at the inn!"

"Belly of Beelzebub, so it is!" bellowed Blaise, pulling out his sword. Turning to Jeannotte, who had just reappeared in the courtyard, heroared: "It is now my father's spirit that controls me!"

Whereupon he fell to belaboring the three poor, weary, hungry, thirstyrascals with the flat of his sword, till all of them yelled in concert. They were too limp to resist or even to run, and he had his way with themuntil Sabray and Roquelin howled with laughter. At last I ordered him tostop, and to confine the men in a chamber, where they should be fed andquestioned. So they limped away moaning, driven like cattle by Blaise, who promised them as they went that they should not be put to the troubleof tying up honest people in the dark for some time to come. Jeannottefollowed, out of curiosity, as did Sabray and Roquelin. 

Left alone in the courtyard, I sat on the stone bench, which was now inpart yellow with moonlight, and began to ponder. I could doubtless learnfrom the three captives whether De Berquin had had any hand in the comingof La Chatre to Clochonne. Anxious as I was to inform myself, I was yetin no mood to question the men at that moment, preferring to wait andhear the result of Blaise's interrogations. 

While I was thinking, my arms folded and my eyes turned to the ground atmy feet, I suddenly heard a deep sigh very near me. 

I looked up and saw Mademoiselle de Varion standing before me in themoonlight. My gaze met hers, and in the delicious glow that her presencesent through me I forgot all in the world but her. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

HOW DE BERQUIN INVITED DEATH

"Mademoiselle!" I whispered, starting up and taking her hand. 

She trembled slightly, and averted her look. But she did not drawaway her hand. 

"You are still disturbed by Marianne's news, " I said. "But you havelittle more reason to fear when M. De la Chatre is at Clochonne than ifhe were at the other end of the province. "

"Yet I do fear, monsieur, " she said, in a low tone, "for your sake. "

"Then if you will fear, " said I, "I take great happiness in knowing thatit is for me. But this is no place or time for fear. Look and listen. Themoonlight, the sounds of the forest, the song of the nightingale, allspeak of peace. "

"The song of the nightingale may give place to the clash of swords andthe cries of combat, " she replied. "And because you have delayed herewith me, you now risk the peril you are in. "

"Peril is familiar company to me, mademoiselle, " I said, gaily. "Itcomes and it goes. It is a very welcome guest when it brings with it thesweetest lady in the world. "

Talking thus, I led her around the side of the château to the old gardenappertaining to it, a place now wild with all kinds of forest growth, itsformer use indicated by a broken statue, a crumbling grotto, and in itscentre an old sun-dial overgrown with creepers. The path to the sun-dialwas again passable, thanks to my frequent visits to the spot since myfirst arrival at Maury. It was up this path that we now went. 

The moonlight and the presence of mademoiselle made the place a veryparadise to me. We two were alone in the garden. The moon spread beautyover the broken walls of the château on one side, and the greenvegetation around us leaving some places in mysterious shade. Thesun-dial was all in light, and so was mademoiselle standing beside it. Ibreathed sweet wild odors from the garden. From some part of the châteaucame the soft twang of the strings responding to the fingers of thegypsy, I held the soft hand of mademoiselle. I raised it to my lips. 

"I love you, I love you!" I whispered. 

She made no answer, only looked at me with a kind of mingled grief andjoy, bliss embittered by despair. 

"It cannot be, " I went on, "that Heaven would permit so great a love tofind no response. Will you not answer me, mademoiselle?"

"What answer would you have?" she asked, in a perturbed voice. 

"I would have love for love. "

Her answer was arrested by the sound of the gypsy's voice, which at thatinstant rose in an old song, that one in which a woman's love is likenedto a light or a fire. These are the first words:

"Bright as the sun, more quick to fade; Fickle as marsh-lights prove;Where brightest, casting deepest shade-- False flame of woman's love. "

"Heed the song, monsieur, " said mademoiselle, in the tone of one whowarns vaguely of a danger which dare not be disclosed openly. 

"It is an old, old song, " I answered. "The raving of some misanthrope ofbygone time. "

"It has truth in it, " she said. 

"Nay, he judged all women from some bitter experience of his own. Hissong ought to have died with him, ought to be shut up in the gravewherein he lies, with his sins and his sorrows. "

"Though the man is dead, the truth he sang is not. Heed it, monsieur, asa warning from the dead to the living, a warning to all brave men whounwarily trust in women!"

"I needed no song to warn me, mademoiselle, " I said, thinking of Mile. D'Arency and M. De Noyard. "I have in my own time seen something of thetreachery of which some women are capable. "

"You have loved other women?" she said, quickly. 

"Once I thought I loved one, until I learned what she was. "

"What was she?" she asked, slowly, as if divining the answer, anddreading to hear it. 

"She was a tool of Catherine de Medici's, " said I, speaking with all themore contempt when I compared the guileful court beauty, Mile. D'Arency, with the pure, sweet woman before me; "one of those creatures whomCatherine called her Flying Squadron, and she betrayed a very honestgentleman to his death. "

"Betrayed him!" she repeated. 

"Yes, by a pretended love tryst. "

Mademoiselle trembled, and held out her hand to the dial for support. 

Something in her attitude, something in the pose of her slender figure, something in her white face, her deep, wide-open eyes, so appealed to mylove, to my impulse to protect her, that I clasped her in my arms, anddrew her close to me. She made no attempt to repulse me, and into hereyes came the look of surrender and yielding. 

"Ah, mademoiselle, Julie, " I murmured, for she had told me her name, "you do not shrink from me, your hand clings to mine, the look inyour eyes tells what your lips have refused to utter. The truth isout, you love me!"

She closed her eyes, and let me cover her face with kisses. 

Presently, still holding her hand in mine, I stepped to the other sideof the sun-dial, so that we stood with it between us, our handsclasped over it. 

"There needs no oath between us now, " said I, "yet here let us vow by themoonlight and the sunlight that mark the time on this old dial. I pledgeyou here, on the symbol of time, to fidelity forever!"

"False flame of woman's love!"

came the song of the gypsy, before mademoiselle could answer. 

The look of unresisting acquiescence faded from her face. She startedbackward, drew her hand quickly from mine, and with the words, "Oh, monsieur, monsieur!" glided swiftly from the garden and around thechâteau. In perplexity, I followed. When I reached the courtyard she wasnot there. She had gone in, and to her chamber. 

But I was happy. I felt that now she was mine. Her face, her attitude, had spoken, if not her lips. As for her breaking away, I thought that dueto a last recurrence of her old scruples concerning the barrier betweenus. I did not attribute it to the effect of the sudden intrusion of thegypsy's song. It was by mere accident, I told myself, that her scrupleshad returned at the moment of that intrusion. What was there in her lovethat I need fear? She had told me to heed the song as a warning. Iconsidered this a mere device on her part to check the current of mywooing. Her old scruples or her maidenly impulses might cause her to usefor that purpose any device that might occur. But, how long she mightpostpone the final confession of surrender, it must come at last, for thesurrender itself was already made. Her heart was mine. What mattered itnow though the governor had come to Clochonne solely in quest of me? Whatthough he knew my hiding-place, discovered by the persistent De Berquin, and its location by him communicated through Barbemouche? For, I said tomyself, if De Berquin had sent word to the governor, Barbemouche musthave been the messenger, for the three rascals now held at Maury couldnot have been relied on, and they had the appearance of having wanderedin the forest several days. 

I was just about to summon Blaise, that I might learn the result of hisinterrogations, when I heard the voice of Maugert, who was lying in watchby the forest path, call out:

"Who goes there?"

"We are friends, " came the answer, quickly. 

This voice also I knew, as well as Maugert's. It was that of De Berquin. 

I ran to the gate and heard him tell Maugert, who covered him with anarquebus, match lighted, that he was seeking the abode of the Sieur de laTournoire, for whom he had important news. 

"Let him come, Maugert!" I called from the gate. 

I stepped back into the courtyard. At that moment Blaise came out of thechâteau. Very soon De Berquin strode in through the gateway, followed bythe burly Barbemouche. Both looked wayworn and fatigued. 

"Monsieur de la Tournoire, " said De Berquin, saluting me with fine graceand a pleasant air, --he never lost the ways of a gallant gentleman, --"Ihave come here to do you a service. "

So! thought I, does he really intend to seek my confidence and try tobetray me, after all? Admirable self-assurance!

I was about to answer, when Barbemouche put in;

"So you, whom it was in my power to kill a hundred times over that night, are the very Tournoire whom I chased from one end of France to the othereight years ago?" And he looked me over with a frank curiosity. 

"Yes, " I said, with a smile, "after you had destroyed the home of myfathers. And at last you have found me. "

"I was but the servant of the Duke of Guise then, " said Barbemouche. 

At this point Blaise, who, in all our experiences with De Berquin and hishenchmen, had not while sober come within hearing of Barbemouche's voice, or within close sight of him, stepped up and said, coolly:

"Let me see the face that goes with that voice. "

And he threw up the front of Barbemouche's hat with one hand, at the sametime raising the front of his own with the other. The two men regardedeach other for a moment. 

"Praise to the God of Israel, we meet again!" cried Blaise, in a loudvoice, catching the other by the throat. 

"Who are you?" demanded Barbemouche. 

"The man on whom you left this mark, "--and Blaise pointed to his ownforehead, --"in Paris on St. Bartholomew's night thirteen years ago. "

"Then I did not kill you?" muttered Barbemouche, glaring fiercelyat Blaise. 

"God had further use for me, " said Blaise. 

De Berquin and I both stepped aside, perceiving that here was a matter inwhich neither of us was concerned. But we looked on with some interest, deferring until its adjustment our own conversation. 

"Then it was you who spoiled my appearance for the rest of my days!"cried Barbemouche. "May you writhe in the flames of hell!"

And, being without sword or other weapon, he aimed a blow of the fist atBlaise's head. Blaise, disdaining to use steel against an unarmedantagonist, contented himself with dodging the blow and draggingBarbemouche to a place where an opening in the courtyard wall overlookeda steep, rocky descent which was for some distance without vegetation. Here the two men grappled. There was some hard squeezing, some quickbending either way, a final powerful forcing forward of the arms on thepart of Blaise, a last violent propulsion of the same arms, andBarbemouche was thrown backward down the precipice. Blaise stood for atime looking oven. We heard a series of dull concussions, a sound of theflight of detached small stones, and then nothing. 

"God giveth the battle to the strong!" said Blaise, and he came away fromthe precipice. 

De Berquin shrugged his shoulders, and turned again to me. 

"As I said, monsieur, " he began, "I have come here to do you a service. "

"Indeed!" said I, coldly, choosing to assume indifference and ignorance. "I knew not that I was in need of any. "

"Your need of it is all the greater for that, " said De Berquin, quietly. "Monsieur, I would hinder some one from doing you a foul deed, though todo so I must rob that person of your esteem. "

"Speak clearly, M. De Berquin, " said I, thinking that he was taking thewrong way to get my confidence. "It is impossible that any one having myesteem should need hindrance from a foul deed. "

De Berquin stood perfectly still and looked me straight in theface, saying:

"Is it a foul deed to betray a man into the hands of his enemies?"

"Yes, " said I, thoughtfully, wondering that he should try to begin thatvery act by accusing some one else of intending it. 

"Then, monsieur, " he went on, "look to yourself. "

But I looked at him instead, with some amazement at the assurance withwhich he continued to face me. 

"And what man of my following would you accuse of intending to betrayme?" I asked. 

"No man, monsieur, " he said, still meeting my gaze steadily, and notchanging his attitude. 

"No man?" I repeated, for a moment puzzled. "Oh, ho! The boy, Pierre, perhaps, who left us while we were at the inn by the forest road! Well, monsieur, you speak falsely. I would stake my arm on his loyalty. "

"It is not to tell you of any boy that I have sought you these many daysin this wilderness, " said De Berquin, all the time standing as motionlessas a statue, and speaking in a very low voice. "It is not a boy that hascome from M. De la Chatre, the governor of the province, to betray you. "

"Not man nor boy, " I said, curious now to learn what he was aiming at. "What, then? Mademoiselle's maid, honest Jeannotte? You must take thetrouble to invent something else, M. De Berquin. You become amusing. "

"Not the maid, monsieur, " he replied, very quietly, putting a stress onthe word "maid, " and facing me as boldly as ever. 

Slowly it dawned on me what he meant. Slowly a tremendous indignationgrew in me against the man who dared to stand before me and make thataccusation. Yet I controlled myself, and merely answered in a tone as lowas his, but slowly drawing my sword:

"By God, you mean _her_!"

"Mlle. De Varion, " he answered, never quailing. 

Filled with a, great wrath, my powers of thought for the time paralyzed, my mind capable of no perception, but that of mademoiselle's sweetnessand purity opposed to this horrible charge of black treason, I couldanswer only:

"Then the devil is no more the king of liars, unless you are the devil!Come, Monsieur de Berquin, I will show you what I think of the serviceyou would do me!"

With drawn sword in hand, I walked across the courtyard and pointed tothe way leading around the side of the château to an open space in onepart of the garden. I knew that there we should not be interrupted. 

As I waited for De Berquin to precede me, I chanced to look atBlaise. A strange, thoughtful expression was on his face. He, too, stood quite still. 

De Berquin looked at my face for a moment longer, then seemed to realizethe hopelessness of his attempt to make me credit his accusation, shrugged his shoulders and said, courteously:

"As you will, monsieur!"

And he walked before me around the side of the château to the barespace in the garden. Blaise, having received no orders, did not presumeto follow. 

We took off our doublets and other encumbrances, De Berquin raising hissheathed sword and very gracefully unsheathing by throwing the scabbardoff into the air, so that it fell some distance away in the garden. 

Twice before that night it had been shown that I was the more skilfulswordsman, yet now he stood without the least sign of fear. If he hadformerly retreated, on being disarmed, it was from situations in which hehad figured ridiculously, and could not endure to remain beforeMademoiselle de Varion. Also, he had sought to preserve his life, so thathe might have revenge. But now that events had taken their turn, heshowed himself not afraid to face death. 

"It is a pity, " I said, "that a brave man should be so great a liar. "

"Rather, " he said, "that so brave a man"--and his look showed that healluded to me--"should be so easily fooled; and that so fair a womanshould be so vile a traitor. "

And, seeing that I was ready, he put himself into a posture of defence. 

The cup of my resentment having been already filled to overflowing, itwas impossible for me to be further angered by this. But there came onme a desire to let him know that I was not as ill-informed as he hadthought me; that perhaps he was the greater fool. So, holding my swordlowered, I said:

"You should know, monsieur, that I am aware who undertook the task ofbetraying me to La Chatre. "

"And yet you say that I lie, " he replied. 

"I know even how the matter was to be conducted, " I went on. "The spywas first to learn my place of refuge and send the information to LaChatre. The governor was then to come to Clochonne. The governor isalready at Clochonne. The spy, doubtless, learned where I hid, and sentword to La Chatre. "

"Doubtless, " he replied, impassively, "inasmuch as you speak of one ofmademoiselle's boys having left you. He was probably the messenger. "

"Monsieur, " I said, "you desire to leave a slander of mademoiselle thatmay afflict me or her after your death; but your quickness to perceivecircumstances that seemingly fit your lie will not avail you. A thousandfacts might seem to bear out your falsehood, yet I would not heed them. Iwould know them to be accidental. For every lie there are manycircumstances that may be turned to its support. So do not, in dying, felicitate yourself on leaving behind you a lie that will live to injureher or me. Your lie shall die with you. "

"You tire me with reiterations, monsieur, " he replied, calmly. "Since youwill maintain that I have lied, do so. It is you who will suffer for yourblindness, not I. I told you the truth, not really because I wished to doyou a kindness, but because there was a chance of its serving my ownpurpose. The woman came here to find your hiding-place, and betray you tothe governor. La Chatre engaged her to do so. His secretary, Montignac, took it into his head that he would like to become sole possessor ofmademoiselle's time and attractions. But he could not undo the governor'splans, nor could he hope for the woman's cooperation, as she seems tohave taken a dislike to him. It had been agreed that, when she had turnedyou over to the governor's soldiers, she should go to Fleurier to receiveher reward. She had made this condition so that she might keep out of theway of Montignac. Now he dared not interfere to prevent her from doingthe governor's errand, but he hoped to see more of her after that shouldbe completed. Such, as it was necessary for him to tell me, was the stateof his mind when I came along--I, ordered from court, hounded from Parisby creditors, ragged and ready for what might turn up. Near FleurierMontignac turned up, in La Chatre's cavalcade. He wanted me to become thewoman's escort to Clochonne, keep my eyes on her, know when she hadsettled your business, and, when she was about to start for Fleurier, keep her as his guest in a house that I was to hire in Clochonne. But whydo I grow chilly telling you all this, when you do not intend to believeme? Shall we not begin, monsieur?"

"Doubtless you are vain of your skill at fabrication, monsieur, " I said, wishing to deprive him of the satisfaction of thinking me deceived byhis story, "but you have no reason to be. That a woman should be sent tobetray an outlaw, and then a man sent to keep her in view and finallyhold her, --it is complicated, to say the least. Why should you not havebeen sent to take me?" I thought that I had touched him here. 

"That is what I asked Montignac, " he replied. "But he told me that shehad already been commissioned to hunt you down, before he had made up hismind to possess her by force. Moreover, it would not do to disturb thegovernor's plan, on which the governor was mightily set, though Montignachimself had suggested it. 'And, ' said Montignac, 'you have not a woman'swit to find his hiding-place, or a woman's means of luring him from hismen. ' And yet, you will remember that when I thought you were a lackey, and you offered to deliver La Tournoire to me, I grasped at the chance, for I knew that, however set the governor might be on having the ladytake you, he would be glad enough to have you taken by any one, and if Itook you and got the reward I could afford to bear Montignac'sdispleasure. I think Montignac's desire to have the lady take you was dueto his having suggested the plan. He wanted both the credit of havingdevised your capture and the pleasure of mademoiselle's society. Yes, when you held out to me the possibility, I was willing to riskMontignac's resentment and take La Tournoire myself. Before that, I hadconfined myself to the task of following mademoiselle. At first you andyour supposed master were in my way. I had hoped to get her from you, andto obtain her esteem by the mock rescue, but this was spoiled first by mymen and then by you. After that failure, I could merely follow and hopethat chance would enable me to do Montignac's will. "

"You cleverly mix truth and fiction, monsieur, " I said. "You interestme. Go on. "

It is true that he did interest me, so ingenious did I think his recital. 

"I have no wish to prolong the life of one of us by this talk, " hereplied, "but a tale once begun should be finished. You know how youpromised to deliver up La Tournoire to me. I grant that you kept thepromise to the letter. During the rest of that night I lay quiet with mymen. We heard your departure the next morning, and when the way was clearwe followed in your track. We could do so quietly, for we were afoot; wehad left our horses in another part of this wilderness the day before. Weheard you greeted by your sentinel, and guessed that you were near yourburrow. We came no further, but looked around and found a projectingrock, under which to lie hidden, and a tree from whose top this placecould be seen. So we have lodged under the rock, one of us keeping watchnight and day from the tree. I hoped thus to be able to know when youshould be taken, so that I might then look to the lady. But no soldierscame for you, neither you nor the lady departed from the place, no signcame to indicate an attack or a flight. You can imagine, monsieur, how agentleman accustomed to court pleasures and Parisian fare enjoyed thekind of life that we have been leading for these several days. Now andthen one of us would crawl forth to a stream for water, or forage fornuts and berries, and we snared a few birds, which we had to eat raw, notdaring to make a fire. This existence became tiresome. This afternoonthree of my knaves deserted. What was I to do? It was useless to go backto Montignac without having done his work. To stay there awaiting yourcapture or the lady's departure was perhaps to starve. To go any distancefrom this place was to lose sight of the woman, who might leave at anytime, and we could not know what direction she might take. The enterprisehad been at best a scurvy one, fit only for a man at the end of hisresources. In fine, monsieur, when the last of my men threatened tofollow his comrades, I crawled out of my hole, stretched my aching bones, and resolved to let Montignac's business go to the devil. There was nochance for me in the service of the French King, therefore I came tooffer myself as a member of your company. In the Huguenot cause I mightearn back some of the good things of life. It no longer matters on whichside I fight. 'Twas the same with Barbemouche. And, inasmuch as I haddecided to cast in my fortunes with yours, I naturally wished you well. Thus it was my own interest I sought to serve, as well as yours, when Itold you that this woman came here to betray you to La Chatre. "

"You told me that, " said I, calmly, "for one or both of twopurposes, --the first, to make me withdraw my protection from the lady, inorder that she might be at your disposal; the second, to get myconfidence, in order that you yourself might betray me to La Chatre. "

De Berquin laughed. "Am I, then, such a fool as to think that the waryTournoire could be put off his guard by a man? No, no. The governor orMontignac was wise in choosing a woman for that delicate task. It is onlyby a Delilah that a Samson can be caught!"

"Monsieur, " I said, with ironical admiration, "you are indeed as artfulin your lies as you are bold. You have constructed a story that everycircumstance seems to bear out. Yet one circumstance you have forgotten, or you are not aware of it. It destroys your whole edifice. The father ofMlle. De Varion is now a prisoner, held by the governor's order, on acharge of treason for having harbored Huguenots. Would his daughterundertake to do the work of a spy and a traitor for that governor againsta Huguenot? Now for your ingenuity, monsieur!"

"Such things have been known, " he answered, not at all discomfited. "Hisdaughter may not have her father's weakness for Huguenots, and if shebears resentment against the governor on her father's account, her desireof the reward may outweigh that resentment. Covetousness is strong inwomen. You would not expect great filial devotion in a hired spy andtraitress. Moreover, for all I know, this woman may not be Mile, deVarion, although Montignac so named her to me. She may have assumed thatcharacter at his suggestion, in order to get your confidence andsympathy, not daring to pretend to be a Huguenot, lest some habitual actmight betray the deception. "

"Enough, M. De Berquin, " I said. "I do your wit the credit of admittingthat so well-wrought a lie was never before told. Only two things preventits being believed. It is to me that you tell it, and it is of Mile, deVarion! You complained a while ago of being chilly. Let us now warmourselves!"

And so we went at it. I had no reason now to repeat the trick by which Ihad before disarmed him. Indeed, I wished him to keep sword in hand thatI might have no scruples about killing him. I never could bring myself togive the death thrust to an unarmed man. Yet I was determined that thebrain whence had sprung so horrible a story against my beloved shouldinvent no more, that the lips which had uttered the accusation should notspeak again. Yet he gave me a hard fight. It was for his life that he nowwielded sword, and he was not now taken by surprise as he had been in ourformer meetings, or unsteadied by a desire of making a great flourishbefore a lady. He now brought to his use all his training as a fencer. Hehad a strong wrist and a good eye, despite the dissolute life that he hadled. For some minutes our swords clashed, our boots beat the ground, andour lungs panted as we fought in the moonlight. I was anxious to have thething over quickly, lest the noise we made might reach the ears ofmademoiselle, and perhaps bring her to the scene. I knew that Blaisewould keep the men away, but he would not presume to restrainmademoiselle. I wished, too, to have the thrust made before my antagonistshould begin to show weakness of body or uncertainty of eye. But hemaintained a good guard, and also required me to give much time andattention to my own defence. Indeed, his point once passed through myshirt under my left shoulder, my left arm being then raised. But at lastI caught him between two ribs as he was coming forward, and it wasalmost as though he had fallen on my sword. I missed his own sword onlyby quickly turning sidewise so that his weapon ran along the front of mybreast without touching me. 

He uttered one shriek, I drew my sword out of his body, and he fell in alimp heap. With a convulsive motion he straightened out and was still. Iturned his body so that his face was towards the sky, and I went back tothe courtyard, leaving him alone in the moonlight. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

"GOD GRANT I DO NOT FIND YOU FALSE!"

In the courtyard was mademoiselle, very pale and agitated, standing byBlaise and grasping his arm as if for support. She still had on the gownof pale green that she had worn earlier in the evening. Her head wasuncovered, her hair in some disorder, and this, with the pallor of herface and the fright in her wide-open eyes, gave her some wildness ofappearance. It was De Berquin's piercing death-cry that had blanched hercheek and made her clutch Blaise's arm. 

"You have killed him!" she said, in a voice little above a whisper. 

"You ought not to be here, mademoiselle, " I replied. 

"From my chamber window I saw you talking with M. De Berquin. What hesaid I know not, but you drew your sword and went away with him. Iwaited for a long time in anxiety until I heard the sound of swords. Icame down, and would have gone to beg you to stop, but when I heardthat awful shriek I could not go any further. Oh, monsieur, you havekilled him!"

"He brought it on himself, mademoiselle, " was all that I could say. 

And here Blaise did what I thought a strange and presumptuous thing. He approached mademoiselle, and, looking her keenly in the eyes, said, gravely:

"He said that you came from the governor of the province to betray M. Dela Tournoire!"

"Blaise!" I cried, in great astonishment and anger. "How dare you evenutter the calumny he spoke? Go you and look to the disposal of his body. "And I motioned him away with a wrathful gesture. 

He looked frowningly at mademoiselle and then at me, and went off, with ashrug of his shoulders, to the place where De Berquin lay. 

I turned to mademoiselle; she stood like a statue, her eyes fixed on theempty air before her. Yet she seemed to know when my look fell on her, for at that instant a slight tremor passed through her. 

"Tremble not for M. De Berquin, mademoiselle, " said I, thinking of thatdivine gentleness in a woman which makes her pity even those who havepersecuted her. "Indeed, he must have wished to die. He well knew that acertain way to death was to tempt my sword with a black lie of the truestlady in France. "

"You killed him, " she murmured, in a low, pitying voice, "because hesaid--I came from the governor--to betray you!"

"Why else, mademoiselle? What is the matter? Why do you look so?"

For all life and consciousness seemed to be about to leave hercountenance. 

"_Mon dieu_!" she said, weakly, "I cannot tell--I--"

I hastened to put my arms about her, that she might not fall. 

"You pity him, " I said, "but there could be nothing of good in one whocould so slander you. Indeed, mademoiselle, you are ill. Let me lead youin. Believe me, mademoiselle, he well deserved his death. "

Thus endeavoring to calm and restore her mind, I led her slowly into thechâteau and up the steps to the door of her chamber. She followed as onewithout will and with little strength. Hugo and Jeannotte, who had beensitting on the landing outside her door, had risen as we came up thestairs. When I took my arms from about mademoiselle, she leaned on themaid's shoulder, and so passed into her chamber, giving me neither looknor word. Leaving Hugo to keep his vigil outside her door, I went down tothe great hall of the château. 

Several of the men lay on the floor, most of them asleep. I asked one ofthem where Blaise had bestowed the three rascals who had become ourprisoners, and he rose and led the way to a dark chamber at the rear ofthe hall. He took a torch that was stuck in the wall and followed me intothis chamber. It was my desire to learn from these men whether or notBarbemouche, or one of them, had borne to M. De la Chatre an account ofmy hiding-place; for there had been time for one to have done so andreturned. It might be that the original plan suggested to the governor byMontignac had been altered and that some other step had been adopted formy capture. The very visit of De Berquin, the very story he had told me, might have been connected with this other step. One of his purposes, intrying to make me think myself betrayed, may have been to induce me toleave a place so inaccessible to attack. If a new plan had been put inoperation, these men might know something of it. I would question themand then consult with Blaise, comparing the answers they should give mewith those they had given Blaise. 

They lay snoring, their hands fastened behind their backs, their anklesso tied that they could not stretch out their legs. The man with me saidthat Blaise, after belaboring them and interrogating them to his heart'scontent, had relented, and brought some cold meat and wine for them. Isuppose that the gentle spirit of his mother had obtained theascendency. They had devoured the food with the avidity of starvingdogs, and had lain down, full of gratitude, to sleep. Blaise had thenbound them up as a precaution against a too unceremonious departure. Iwoke them one after another, with gentle kicks, and they stared up atme, blinking in the torchlight. Submissively and readily, thoughdrowsily, they answered my questions. They swore that neitherBarbemouche nor any one of them, nor De Berquin himself, had borne anymessage to the governor; that the five had remained together from thefirst, living under the rock and keeping watch from the tree-top, as DeBerquin had narrated, until the previous afternoon, when the three haddeserted, only to fall into the hands of our sentinel. In every detailtheir account agreed with that of their late master. When I accused themof telling a prearranged lie, and threatened them with the torture, thefoppish fellow said:

"What more can a man tell than the truth? But if you're not satisfiedwith it, monsieur, and let me know what you wish me to say, I'll say itwith all my heart, and swear to it on whatever you name. "

From the faces of the others, I knew that they, too, were willing to tellanything, true or false, to avoid torture, and so I could not but believetheir story. Therefore, said I to myself, Montignac's plan not adheredto. De Berquin sent no one to the governor with information concerningmy hiding-place. La Chatre had come to Clochonne without having awaitedsuch information. De Berquin had been too slow. Perhaps, indeed, the planhad been altered so as to omit the sending of this preliminary word tothe governor. A fixed time might have been set for the coming of thegovernor to Clochonne. De Berquin had probably retained his men that hemight have one to use as messenger to the governor, in notifying LaChatre where to place his ambuscade, and that he might have others towaylay mademoiselle. His lie was doubtless a bold device to putmademoiselle into his power, and to get entrance to my company. It was alast resource, it was just as likely to bring death as to bring success, but he had taken a gambler's chances. They had gone against him, and hehad uncomplainingly accepted his defeat. 

So the governor's presence at Clochonne was not to be taken as reason forgreat alarm, inasmuch as there seemed now no probability that he knew myhiding-place. We were still safe at Maury. We should have only tomaintain greater vigilance. Failing to hear from his agent, who now laydead in the garden at Maury, and could never work us harm, the governorwould eventually take new measures for my capture, or, if I kept quietand my men left no traces, he would presently suppose that I had gonefrom his province. As for mademoiselle, neither La Chatre nor Montignacknew where she was. We might, therefore, have more of those delightful, peaceful days at Maury. Moreover, what better time to surprise thecommandant of the Château of Fleurier than while La Chatre was atClochonne? My heart beat gaily at thought of how bright was the prospect. I passed out by a back way to the garden, where Blaise had been lookingto the body of De Berquin. 

My late antagonist lay in peace and order, Blaise having replaced hisdoublet on him and put his sword by his side. 

"A handsome gentleman, " said Blaise, quietly, looking down at the body. 

"But a fool as well as a liar, " said I. "How could he think that such astory was to be swallowed? To have thrown him into confusion, I shouldhave told him that I had overheard the plan for my capture, that I knewof an attempt to be made to get me from my men, that mademoiselle hasnever made any such attempt either by tryst or summons or on any pretextwhatever. "

"Neither has De Berquin, " answered Blaise, sullenly, "and yet you thinkhe was the spy whom the governor sent. "

"He had no opportunity, " I replied, rather sharply, annoyed at Blaise'smanner. "He did not dare come here until he had formed a desperate planon which to hazard everything. "

"As for mademoiselle's having had the opportunity and yet not havingdone so, " Blaise went on, with a kind of doggedness, "the spy was not toplan the ambush until the governor should arrive at Clochonne. "

"By God!" I cried. "Do you dare hint that you credit this villain's liefor a moment?" In my exasperation I half drew my sword. 

"I credit nothing and discredit nothing, " he said, in a low but stubborntone, "but I place no one above doubt, except God and you. I have had mythoughts, monsieur, and have them still. It is enough, as yet, to keepall eyes open and turned in many directions. "

"You cur! You dare to suspect--" Without finishing the sentence, I struckhim across the face with the back of my hand. 

He drew a deep breath, but made no movement. 

"I shall not trouble myself to suspect, " he went on, with no change oftone, "until we know that M. De la Chatre is at Clochonne, --"

"We know that already, " I broke in, hotly. "Marianne brought the newsthis afternoon. "

"Until we know that mademoiselle knows it, " he went on. 

"We know that, too, " I said. "She heard Marianne tell me. "

"Until her other servant happens to be missing, and some occasion arisesthrough her for your going somewhere without your men. For example, ifshe should go for a walk in the forest with her maid, and presently themaid should return with word that mademoiselle lay mortally hurtsomewhere--"

"I would go to her at once!" I cried, involuntarily. 

"So mademoiselle would suppose. You would not wait for your men to armand accompany you. You would hasten to the place, without precaution, never thinking that mademoiselle's servant might have carried word to LaChatre, a day before, to have men waiting for you. Kill me if you like, monsieur! I cannot avoid my thoughts. They are at your service as my handand sword are. I may be all wrong, but one cannot fathom women. You usedto speak of a lady of Catherine de Medici's--"

Ah, considered I, it is the thought of Mlle. D'Arency's deed that hasawakened these foolish suspicions in Blaise's mind! I had given him someaccount of how that lady had, by a love tryst, drawn poor De Noyard tohis death. He was incapable of discriminating between women. He could notsee that Mlle. De Varion was of a kind of woman as unlike the courtintriguer as if the two belonged to different species of beings. Oughtone to expect delicacy of perception from a common soldier? Hissuspiciousness arose partly from his devotion to me. So, much as Iadored mademoiselle and held her sacred and above the slightest breath ofaccusation, I regretted the blow I had given him, and which he hadreceived so meekly. 

"I see, Blaise, what is in your head, " I said, "but there are matters ofwhich you cannot judge. No more of this talk, therefore. And I require ofyou the greatest respect and devotion to mademoiselle. "

"Very well, monsieur, " he said, "Let me say but this: You remember myforebodings the last time we rode through the province. Because we cameback alive, you thought there was nothing in them. Perhaps there wasnothing. Only I have been thinking that out of that last journey may yetcome our destruction. My premonition may have been right, after all. "

I smiled and walked back to the courtyard and sat down on the bench, nolonger angry at either De Berquin or Blaise, and calm in the thought thatthere seemed no immediate danger. If I could but communicate my sense ofsecurity to mademoiselle! If I might see a smile on her face, if the lookof yielding would but come back there and remain! Surely her scrupleswould pass when I should bring her father to her. What imaginary barriercould stand before the combined forces of love and gratitude? The rescueof her father must not be longer deferred. I must form my planimmediately. Yet I continued to waste time thinking of the future, ofthe day when she should acknowledge herself mine. I took off my hat andremoved from it the glove that she had given me. It was like a part ofher; it was fashioned by use to the very form of her hand. I pressed itto my lips and then looked up at the window of her chamber. 

"Ah, Mlle. Julie, " I said, "I know that you love me. You will bemine; something in the moonlight, in the murmurs of the trees, in thesong of the nightingale, tells me so. How beautiful is the world! Iam too happy!"

I heard rapid footsteps from outside the gate, and presently one of mymen ran into the courtyard from the forest. It was Frojac, who had beenall day in Clochonne in search of information. Seeing me, he stopped andstood still, out of breath from his run. 

At the same moment Blaise came from the garden and stood beside thebench, curious to hear Frojac's news. 

"Ah, Frojac!" said I. "From Clochonne? I know your news already. M. De laChatre is there. "

And I motioned to him to speak quietly, lest his news, which mightbe alarming, should reach the ears of mademoiselle through herchamber window. 

"I had a talk with one of his men, " said Frojac, "an old comrade of mine, who did not guess that I was of your troop. I told him that I had givenup righting and settled down as a poacher. He says that it is well knownto the governor's soldiers that the governor has come south to catch you. He declares that the governor knows the exact location of yourhiding-place. "

"Soldiers' gabble, " said I. 

"But my old comrade is no fool, " went on Frojac. "I pretended to laugh athim for thinking that any one could find out the burrow of La Tournoire, and as we were drinking he got angry and swore that he spoke truly. Hesaid that the governor had got word of your hiding-place from a boy. Ifyou knew my comrade, monsieur, you would know that what he says is to beheeded. He is one who talks little, but keeps his ears and eyes open. "

"Word from a boy?" I repeated, rather to myself. "Could De Berquin havefound some peasant boy and despatched him to the governor?"

"My comrade says that the boy was sent by a woman, " said Frojac. 

"A woman!" I cried. "If it be true, then, malediction on her! Somecovetous, spying wife of a farmer has found us out, perchance!"

"Perchance, monsieur! But, all the same, I and Maugert, who was on guardyonder by the path, took the liberty just now of stopping the boy ofmademoiselle, your guest, as he was riding off. In advance of him rode awoman. I had just come up the path and had stopped for a word withMaugert. Suddenly the woman dashed by and was gone in an instant. Neitherof us had time to make up our minds whether to stop her or not, for shecame from this place, not towards it. By the time when we had decidedthat we ought to have detained her, she was out of hearing. But then camea second horse, and that we stopped. The rider was the boy Hugo. "

"An unknown woman departing from our very camp!" I said, rising. "Thegypsy girl!" But at that instant the gypsy girl, Giralda, came in throughthe gateway with an armful of herbs that she had been gathering justoutside the walls. She often plucked herbs after dark, as there are somewhose potency is believed to be the greater for their being uprooted atnight. "Ah, no, no, no!" I cried, repenting my unjust suspicion. "A womanhidden at Maury! She shall be followed and caught and treated like anycur of a papegot spy, man or woman!" I was wild with rage to think thatour hiding-place might really have been discovered, my guards eluded, thepresence of mademoiselle perhaps reported to Montignac, her safety andours put in immediate peril, by some one who had contrived to findconcealment under our very eyes! "And the boy Hugo riding off by night!"I added. "Had this woman corrupted him, I wonder? Was it through himthat she obtained entrance and concealment? Where is he?"

I could at that moment have believed the most incredible things, eventhat a woman had hidden herself in one of the ruined outbuildings; forwhat could have been more incredible than Frojac's account of an unknownwoman riding from the château at the utmost speed?

"Maugert is bringing him to you, " said Frojac. "I ran ahead to appriseyou of what had occurred. "

"These are astounding things, " I said, turning to Blaise. "Who can tellnow how much the governor knows or what he may intend? We may be attackedat any time. And half our men away! Perhaps the governor knows that, too. If not, this woman may tell him. We shall have to flee at once across themountains. Mademoiselle is now well enough to endure the journey. I musttell her to make ready for flight. "

I looked up at mademoiselle's window, and took a step towards it; but atthat moment Maugert came into the courtyard, leading Hugo, whom he heldby the arm with a grip of iron. The horse had been left outside. 

"My boy, what is this?" I cried, not hiding my anger. "You would rideaway secretly, and without permission of your mistress?"

"It was my duty, when I followed to protect her, " the boy said. "Mlle. De Varion was mad, I think, to go alone at this hour. "

"Mademoiselle?" I echoed, in great mystification. "Alone? Whither?"

"To Clochonne, to M. De la Chatre, " was the reply. 

It took away from me for a moment the very power of speech. I stared atthe boy in dumb amazement. 

"Clochonne! La Chatre! Mademoiselle!" I murmured, questioningly, myfaculty of comprehension being for the instant dazed. "How do youknow, boy?"

"She said so when she left this courtyard to take horse, " the boyreplied. "When I asked her whither she was bound, she said to Clochonneto see M. De la Chatre, and she spoke of some mission, but I could nothear the words exactly, for she was in great excitement. She then madeoff, declaring she would go alone, but it was my duty, nevertheless, tofollow and guard her. "

"Mademoiselle gone to Clochonne, to La Chatre, " I repeated, as onein a dream. 

At that instant there came again from somewhere in the château the voiceof the gypsy in the song. 

"False flame of woman's love!"

"The devil!" muttered Blaise. "Was De Berquin right?" And he ran intothe château. 

"The woman who told our hiding-place!" said Frojac. 

Could it be? Was she another Mademoiselle d'Arency? Had she thought that, after De Berquin's accusation, any attempt on her part to draw me from mymen would convict her in my eyes; that indeed I might come at any momentto believe in the treachery of which he had warned me? Had this thoughtdriven her to Clochonne, where she might be safe from my avenging wrath, where also she might advise the governor to attack me at once? She hadspoken to the boy of a mission. There had, then, been a mission, and ithad to do with herself and the governor! As this horrible idea filled mymind, I felt a kind of sinking, and as if the very earth trembled beneathme. But then I thought of mademoiselle's sweet face, and I hurled thedark thought from me, amazed that I could have held it for an instant. 

"It is not true!" I cried, loudly. "By God, it is not true! I'll notbelieve it! She has not gone! She is in her chamber yonder!" And I wentand stood beneath her window. "Mademoiselle! Come to the window! Tell usthat the boy lies or is deluded! Mademoiselle, I say!"

But no face appeared at the window--that window up to which I had lookeda few moments before while I sat on the bench, thinking that my love wasbehind it. 

And now Blaise came running out of the château. He stopped on the steps. 

"She is not there, " he said. "I found only the maid, wailing out prayersto a Catholic saint!"

So she was really gone--gone! She must have left while I wasinterrogating De Berquin's three henchmen in their cell or while I hadstood with Blaise in the garden, reproving him for his suspicions of her. 

"And because he assailed her loyalty I killed that man!" I said aloud, forgetful, for the time, of the presence of Blaise and Frojac, Maugert, Hugo, and the gypsy girl. All these stood in silence, not knowing what todo or say, awaiting some order or sign from me. 

"She is a woman, monsieur!" said Blaise, gently, as if he thought toplease me by offering some excuse for her conduct, or for my having beenso deceived in her. 

And then again I saw her pure, pale face, her full, moist eyes, herslender, girlish figure. Let the evidence be what it might, it wasimpossible for me to see her in my mind and conceive her to betreacherous. There must be some other thing accounting for all thesestrange circumstances. She could not be a spy, a hired traitress! Aglad thought came to me. She might have thought that her presence addedto my danger, that I would refuse to leave Maury while she continuedweak, that I might thus through her be caught, that her departurewould leave me no reason for further delay. It was a wild thought, butit was within possibility, so I took it in and clung to it. At such atime how does a man welcome the least surmise that agrees with hiswishes or checks his fears!

"She is a woman, monsieur!" Blaise had said, even while this thoughtburst upon me. 

"So much the worse for any man that dare accuse her!" I cried. "She isthe victim of some devilish seeming! My armor, Maugert! Frojac, to horse!You and I ride at once! Blaise, marshal the men, and follow when you can, by the forest path!"

"Ah!" cried Blaise, overjoyed. "To Guienne, to join Henri of Navarre?"

"No!" I answered. "To Clochonne, to join mademoiselle!"

Maugert obediently and hastily brought me my breast-piece, and began toadjust it to my body. I already had my sword. Frojac had started for thestables, but at my answer to Blaise he stopped and looked at me inastonishment. 

It was thus with me: Mademoiselle had gone. The presence that had madeMaury a paradise to me was no longer there. The place was nowintolerable. I could not exist away from mademoiselle. Where she wasnot, life to me was torture. Guilty or innocent, she gave the world allthe charm it had for me. Traitress or true, she drew me to her. If shewere innocent, she imperilled herself. In any event, if she went toClochonne she put herself in the power of Montignac. The thought ofthat was maddening to me. I must find her, whatever the risk. Perhaps Icould catch her before she reached Clochonne. If I ran into danger, Ishould presently have Blaise and the men to help me out; but I couldnot wait for them to arm. Every minute of delay was galling. Into whatmight she fall? Whatever she be, good or bad, angel or fiend, I mustsee her--see her!

Blaise stood looking at me with open mouth. 

"She will prove her honesty, my life upon it!" I said. 

"You are mad!" cried Blaise. "She will reach the château of Clochonnelong before you do!"

"Then I shall enter the château!" I answered, helping Maugert buckleon my armor. 

"And meet the governor and garrison!" said Blaise. 

"They will rejoice to see me!"

"'Tis rushing into the lion's den, monsieur!" put in Frojac. 

"Let the lion look to himself, " said I, standing forth at last, all armedand ready. 

Frojac ran to get the horses. 

"They would not let you see her!" cried Blaise, stubbornly standing inmy way. "You would go straight to death for nothing! My captain, youshall not!"

And, as I started towards the stables to mount, he lay hands on me tohold me back, and Maugert, too, caught me by one of the arms. 

"Out of my way, rebels!" I cried, vehemently, struggling to free myselffrom them. "I shall see her to-night though I have to beat down everysword in France and force the very gates of hell!"

I threw them both from me so violently that neither dared touch me again. As I stepped forward I saw on the ground at my feet the glove thatmademoiselle had given me, and which I had been caressing while sittingalone in the courtyard. I must have dropped it on hearing Frojac's news. I now stopped and picked it up. 'Twas all that was left with me ofmademoiselle. She had worn it, it had the form of her hand. I held it inmy fingers and looked at it. Again came the song of the gypsy:

"False flame of woman's love!"

I pressed the glove again and again to my lips, tears gushed frommy eyes, and I murmured: "Ah, mademoiselle, God grant I do not findyou false!"

Five minutes later, Frojac and I were speeding our horses over the forestpath towards Clochonne. 

CHAPTER XV. 

TO CLOCHONNE, AFTER MADEMOISELLE

On through the forest, on over the narrow path, the horse seeming to feelmy own impatience, his hoofs crushing the fallen twigs and the vegetationthat lay in the way, the branches of the trees striking me in foreheadand eyes, my heart on fire, my mind a turmoil, on to learn the truth, onto see her! The moon was now overhead, and here and there it lighted upthe path. Close behind me came Frojac. I heard the footfalls and thebreathing of his horse. 

Would we come up to her before she reached Clochonne? This depended onthe length of start she had. She would lose some time, perhaps, throughbeing less familiar with the road than we were, yet wherever the road laystraight before her she would force her horse to its utmost, guessingthat her departure would be discovered and herself pursued. 

My mind inclined this way and that as I rode. Now I saw how strong wasthe evidence against her, yet I refused to be convinced by it before Ishould hear what she might have to say. Now I conjured up her imagebefore me, and then all the evidence was naught. It was impossible thatthis face, of all faces in the world, could have been a mask to concealfalsehood and treachery, that this voice could have lied in its sweet andsorrowful tones, that her appearance of grief could have been but apretence, that her seemingly unconscious signs of love could have beensimulation!

Yet had not the gypsy sung of the false flame of woman's love? It istrue, she had bade me heed these words. Would she have done so had herown appearance of love been false? Perhaps it was this very thought, thevery improbability of a false woman's warning a man against woman'streachery, that had made her do so, that I might the less readily onoccasion believe her false. Who can tell the resources and devices of asubtle woman?

What? Was I doubting her? Was I believing the story? Was I, with mycloser knowledge of her, with my experience of the freaks ofcircumstance, with my perception of her heart, to accept the firstapparent deduction from the few facts at hand, as blind, unthinking, undiscriminating soldiers, Blaise and Frojac, had done? Did I not know ofwhat kind of woman she was? She was no Mlle. D'Arency. 

Yet, who knows but that poor De Noyard had believed Mlle. D'Arency true?Might he not, with the eyes of love, have seen in her as pure andspotless a creature as I had seen in Mile, de Varion? Do the eyes oflove, then, deceive? Is the confidence of lovers never to be relied on?

But I must have read her heart aright. Surely her heart had spoken tomine. Surely its voice was that of truth. Surely I knew her. Were not hereyes to be believed. Were not truth, goodness, gentleness, love, writtenon her face?

Yet, how went the gypsy's song, --the one we had heard him sing atGodeau's inn, by the forest road?

"But, ah, the sadness of the dayWhen woman shows her treason!And, oh, the price we have to payFor joys that have their season!Her look of love is but a maskFor plots that she is weaving. Alas, for those who fondly baskIn smiles that are deceiving!"

Might this, then, be true of any woman? So many men had found it out. Theeyes of so many had been opened at last. Was I still a fool, had Ilearned so little of women, had my experience with Mile. D'Arency taughtme only to beware of women outwardly like her, did I need a separatelesson for each different woman on whom I might set my heart? Was it mypeculiar lot to be twice deceived in the same way?

And yet, how her eyes had moistened in dwelling on mine, how they haddropped before my look, how she had yielded to my embrace, how she hadstood still and unresisting in my arms! No, no, they were wrong! DeBerquin had lied, Blaise and Frojac were stolid fools, capable of makingonly the most obvious inference, and I was a contemptible wretch tofalter in my faith in her for an instant! She was the victim of a set ofcircumstances. She had reason for her hasty departure, she would make allclear in a few words. On, on, my horse, that I may hear those words, thatmy heart may rejoice! How soon shall we come up to her? How far ahead isshe? How near to Clochonne? On! She is true, I know it. On! It may beeven for my sake that she is endangering herself. On, that I may be ather side to shield her! On, for of late I have passed all the hours ofthe day with her, all the nights near her, her presence has been thebreath of life to me, it is a new and unwonted and intolerable thing tobe away from her, and I madly thirst and hunger for the sight of her! On, good horse!

Yet, torturing thought, how the story explained all that had seemedstrange! How it fitted so many facts! At the inn at Fleurier we hadoverheard the plan suggested by Montignac for my capture, the employmentof a spy who was to find my hiding place, send word of it, then plan anambush for me. Then the lady had come to the inn. Perhaps she was onewho had already some kind of relations with the governor and had now comepurposely to meet him. What had passed between her and the governor wehad not overheard. It might easily have been the proposal by him, and theacceptance by her, of the mission against me. Such a task might better beentrusted to a woman. Catherine herself had employed women to entrap menwho would have been on their guard against men. Certain Huguenotgentlemen had been especially susceptible to the charms of heraccomplished decoys. Then the governor and his secretary had gone, andthe latter had reappeared with De Berquin. It might really be that thiswoman, whether she were Mlle. De Varion, or whether she merely took thatname in order to get my confidence without having to make the riskypretence of being a Protestant, was desired by Montignac and yet dislikedhim, and that De Berquin had been hired indeed to hold her forcibly forthe secretary after she had accomplished her mission. But her ingenuoussigns of a tender feeling for me? A device to blind me and win my trust, and so, through me, get the confidence of my supposed friend, LaTournoire. Her grief on the journey? Mere pretence, in order to bear outher story and enlist my sympathy. Her periods of silence and meditation?She was thinking out the details of her plot. Her questions about LaTournoire? A means of learning what manner of man she would have to dealwith, and of finding out his hiding-place at a time when it would beeasiest to despatch her boy with a description of it to the governor. Herdesire to know how great was my friendship for La Tournoire? This aroseperhaps from a thought that I might be won over to her purpose, perhapsfrom a fear that I might some day avenge his betrayal. The barrier that, she said, lay between us? A pretext to get rid of me as soon as I mightbe, not only useless to her, but also in the way of her designs againstLa Tournoire. Her strange agitation? A mask to cover the real excitementthat one in her position must have felt. Her aspect of horror at thedisclosure that I was La Tournoire? This may have been real, coming froma fear that she might have betrayed herself by the curiosity she hadshown about me, that the eyes of La Tournoire must be keener than thoseof the light-hearted man she had taken me to be, that I had dissembled toher as well as to De Berquin, that I had been playing with her from thefirst. After she knew me to be La Tournoire, and was assured that I didnot suspect her, she no more spoke of my going from her. What was herweakness of body at Maury but a pretext for delay, that the governormight have time to come to Clochonne and the project of the ambush becarried out? She had forged chains of love to hold me where she was. Hercoyness but kept those chains the stronger, her postponement of thesurrender made it the more impossible for me to leave her side. Who cango from the woman he loves while his fate is uncertain? If she had madeno show of love, I could have left her. If she had confessed her love inwords, and promised to be my own, I could have endured to leave her for atime. How well she knew men! How well she had maintained just thatappearance which kept my thoughts on her night and day, which made meunwilling to lose sight of her, and which would have made me instantlyresponsive to any summons that she might have sent me from any part ofthe forest!

So, then, there were two sides, two appearances, to this woman. The one, the good side, that which I had seen, that which had been the joy of mylife, was not real, was but a seeming, had no existence but in pretence. The other, the wicked side, was the real one, was the actual woman. I hadnever known her. What I had known was but an assumption; it had no being. Was this credible? Could a bad woman so delude one with an angelicpretence, so conceal her wicked self? If so, to what depths of vilenessmight she not be capable of descending? Was it, then, not that I had lostmy beloved, but that she had never existed? At thought of it, I felt asickness within, a weakness, a choking, a giving way. And then her imagecame before me again, as she had stood in the moonlit garden, and mybeloved was born again. The woman I had known was the real one. I haddone her incredible wrong to have thought otherwise. But whether good orbad, whether or not my betrayer, I loved her; I longed for her; I wouldsee her face; I would clasp her in my arms; I would claim her as my own;I would hold her against her own will and the world's. On, my horse, on!Where is she now, what has befallen her, how soon shall my heart bound atsight of her before me in the night? On! Whether she lead me to heaven orto hell, I must be with her; I cannot wait!

Presently we came to the abode of Godeau and Marianne, where the forestpath runs into the old road across the mountains. We had to check ourspeed here, on account of the thick growth of vegetation that served tomask the forest path from travellers on the road. We emerged from this, and turned the heads of our horses towards Clochonne. 

The door of the inn opened, and Marianne came forth. She had beenwatching. 

"Monsieur, " she said, "I did not know whether to come to you ornot. I have been keeping my eyes and ears open for any of thegovernor's troops. "

"But you have seen or heard none, " I answered, impatiently. 

"None, monsieur. But some one has ridden by, towardsClochonne--the lady!"

I knew from her tone that she saw in Mademoiselle's flight alonesufficient reason for suspicion of mademoiselle and for alarm on my ownpart. She, too, thought mademoiselle guilty, myself duped. I firstthought to pretend that mademoiselle's departure was a thing agreed on byher and me, but it was no time to value the opinion of a peasant. 

"On, Frojac!" I said, and on we went. We could make better speed now, forthe road, though little used and in bad condition, was continuous and, unlike the forest path, comparatively free of intrusive vegetation. Itwas hard, too, for the weather had been dry for a long time. The loudclatter of the horses' hoofs was some relief to my eager heart. 

There is a place where this road passes near the verge of a precipice, which, like that at Maury, falls sheer to the road along the River Creusefrom Clochonne to Narjec. But, unlike that at Maury, this declivity isbare of trees. 

We were galloping steadily on and were approaching this place in theroad. Frojac was now riding at my side, as there was room for twohorsemen to go abreast. 

"Hark!" said Frojac, suddenly. "Do you hear something?"

I heard the sounds made by our riding, but no other. 

"Horsemen, " he went on. "And men afoot, on the march!"

"Where?" I asked. We continued to gallop forward. 

"Ahead, " he answered. "Don't you hear, monsieur?"

I listened. Yes, there was the far-off sound of many shod feet strikinghard earth. 

"It is ahead, " said I. 

"A body of troops, " said Frojac. 

"Then we may catch up with them. "

"Or meet them. Perhaps they are coming this way. "

"Troops on a night march!" said I. 

Frojac looked at me. I saw written on his face the same thought that hesaw on mine. 

"Whose else could they be?" he said. "And for what other purpose?"

Had Monsieur de la Chatre, then, chosen this night for a surprise andattack on me at Maury? If he knew my hiding-place, why should he not havedone so? The idea of the ambush, then, had been abandoned? Perhaps, indeed, the plan that I had overheard Montignac outline to La Chatre hadbeen greatly modified. Had mademoiselle, if she were in truth thegovernor's agent, known of this night attack, if it were in truth a nightattack against me? Had she fled in order to avoid the shame or the dangerof being present at my capture? These and many other questions rushedthrough my mind. 

"What shall we do?" asked Frojac, after a time. 

"Go on, " said I. 

"But if we meet them, and they are La Chatre's men, I fear that ourchances of catching up with the lady will be small. "

"But, after all, we do not know who they are. If they are coming thisway, they must have met her by this time. Perhaps they have stopped her?Who knows? I must follow her. "

"But now it seems that the sound comes more from the north. They arecertainly coming nearer. They may be on the river road. We can see bygoing to the edge of the precipice and looking down. "

"We should lose time. "

"'Tis but a little way out of the road. This is where the road is nearestto the edge. "

It might, indeed, be to my advantage to learn at once whether the troopswere in the road in front of us or in the road at the foot of themountain. So I fought down my impatience, and we turned from the roadtowards the precipice. There was little underbrush here to hinder us, and in a very short time we reined in our horses and looked down on thevast stretch of moonlit country below. 

At the very foot of the steep was the road that runs from Clochonne toNarjec. And there, moving from the former towards the latter, went atroop of horsemen, followed by a foot company of arquebusiers. Theytrailed along, like a huge dark worm on the yellow way, following theturns of the road. Seen from above, their figures were shortened andlooked squat. 

I looked among the horsemen. 

"I cannot see La Chatre, " said I. 

"But some of these are his men, " said Frojac, "for I see my old comrade. He knew nothing today of this march. I see most of the men of theClochonne garrison. I wonder what use they expect to make of their horsesif they intend to approach Maury from the river road. "

I recalled now the exact words in which I had indicated to mademoisellethe location of my hiding-place. I had said that it might be reached byturning up the wooded hill from the river road, at the rock shaped like athrone. Was it, indeed, in accordance with directions communicated to LaChatre by her that they were now proceeding?

"If they are bound for Maury, " said I, "they have hit on a good time. Blaise and the men will have left there long before they arrive. Come, Frojac, we lose precious minutes!"

"One thing is good, monsieur, " said Frojac, as our horses resumed theirgallop towards Clochonne. "If we do have to follow the lady all the wayto Clochonne, we shall not find many soldiers there when we arrive. Nearly all of La Chatre's men and the garrison troops are down there onthe river road, marching further from Clochonne every minute. "

Alas, it was not then of troops to be encountered that I thought! It wasof what disclosure might be awaiting me concerning mademoiselle. Wouldshe admit her guilt or demonstrate her innocence? Would she prove to bethat other woman, or the one I had known? Would she laugh or weep, bebrazen or overwhelmed? How would she face me? That was my only thought. Let me dare death a thousand times over, only to know the truth, --nay, only to see her again!

So we sped forward on the road, which, by its length and its windings, makes a gradual descent of the northern slope of the wooded ridge. Atlast we came to the foot of the steep, emerged from the forest, turnednorthward, and then saw before us, a little to the right, the sleepingtown of Clochonne. At the further end of that, on an eminence commandingthe river, stood the château, looking inaccessible and impregnable. 

I thought of the day when I had first seen the château, the day when wehad come over the mountains from the south, and Frojac had pointed out tome where it stood in the distance. That was before I had met mademoiselleor knew that she was in the world. Little had I thought that ever Ishould be hastening madly towards that château in the night on such anerrand or in such turmoil of heart!

We came to the point where the road by which we had come converges withtwo others. One of these, joining from the right, also comes from thesouth, and is, in fact, the new road across the mountains. The other, joining from the left, is the road from Narjec, the one which runs alongthe river and the base of the hills. It is this one which passes thethrone-shaped rock beneath Maury, and on which we had seen the troops. Had we, coming from the mountains, reached this spot before the troopscoming from Clochonne reached it, we should have met them; but they hadpassed this spot long before we had seen them from the height. 

Blaise and the men, whom I had ordered to follow me, would nave leftMaury soon after I had. Certainly they would not be there when thegovernor's troops should arrive. Coming by the road that I had used, Blaise would not meet the governor's men on their way to Maury. But theroad by the river was much the shorter. The governor's men, ondiscovering Maury deserted, might return immediately to Clochonne. Theymight reach this spot before Blaise's men did, or about the same time. Then there would be fighting. 

These thoughts came into my mind at sight of the converging roads, not asmatters of concern to me, but as mere casual observations. There wasmatter of greater moment to claim my anxiety. As to what might be the endof this night, as to what might occur after my meeting with mademoiselle, as to what might befall Blaise and my men, I had no thought. 

And now, turning slightly northeastward, the road lay straight before us, between the town wall and the river, up an incline, to the gate of thechâteau. This gate opens directly from the courtyard of the château tothe road outside the town wall. The château has a gate elsewhere, whichopens to the town, within the town wall. 

The road ascended straight before us, I say, and on that road, making forthe château gate, was a horse, and on the horse a woman. She leanedforward, urging the horse on. Over her shoulders was a mantle, a smallcap was on her head. Her hair streamed out behind her as she rode. Myheart gave a great bound. 

"Look, Frojac! It is she!"

"We cannot catch her. She is too near the château. "

"She will be detained at the gate. "

"If she is the governor's agent, she will know what word to give theguards. They will have orders to admit her, day or night. One who goes onsuch business may be expected at any hour. "

The manner of her reception at the gate, then, would disclose the truth. If she were admitted without parley, it would be evident that she was inthe governor's service. My heart sank. Those who ride so fast towardsclosed gates, at such an hour, expect the gates to let them in. 

"Mademoiselle!" I called. 

But my voice was hoarse. I had no command over it. I could not give itvolume. She made no sign. It was evident that she had not heard it. Shedid not seem to know that she was pursued. She did not look back. Was sheso absorbed in her own thoughts, in her desire to reach her destination, that she was conscious of nothing else?

Frojac was right. She was already too near the château for us to overtakeher before she arrived at the gate. We could but force our panting horsesto their best, and keep our eyes on her. The moon was now in the west, and there was no object on the western side of the road to make a shadow. So we did not once lose sight of her. She approached the château gatewithout diminution of speed; it looked as if she heeded it not, orexpected the horse to leap it. 

"Even if they do admit her promptly, " said I, "it will take a little timeto lower the bridge over the ditch. We may then come up to her. "

"Can you not see?" said Frojac. "The bridge is already down. "

So it was. The troops had, doubtless, departed by this gate; the bridge, let down for their departure, was still down, doubtless for their return. The guards left at the château were, certainly, on the alert for thisreturn. In the event of any hostile force appearing in the meantime, theycould raise the bridge; but such an event was most unlikely. The onlyhostile force in the vicinity was my own company. It is thus that Iaccounted for the fact that the bridge was down. 

Right up to the gate she rode, the horse coming to a quick stop on thebridge at the moment when it looked as if he were about to dash his headagainst the gate. 

With straining ears I listened, as I rode on towards her. 

She called out. I could hear her voice, but could not make out herwords. For some time she sat on her horse waiting, watching the gatebefore her. I was surprised that she did not hear the clatter of ourhorses and look around. Then she called again. I heard an answer fromthe other side of the gate, and then the way was opened. She rode atonce into the courtyard. 

We pressed on, Frojac and I, myself knowing not what was to come, hecontent to follow me and face whatever might arise. The immediate thingwas to reach the château, as mademoiselle had done. Some means must befound for getting entrance, for now that mademoiselle was inside, Ilooked to see the gate fall into place at once. 

But we beheld the unexpected. The gate remained open. No guard appearedin the opening. We galloped up the hill, over the bridge, into thecourtyard. Nothing hindered us. What did it mean?

We stopped our horses and dismounted. There in the courtyard stoodmademoiselle's horse, trembling and panting, but mademoiselle herself haddisappeared. Before us was an open door, doubtless the principal entranceto the château. Mademoiselle had probably gone that way. 

"Come, Frojac!" said I, and started for this door. 

But at that instant we heard rough exclamations and hasty steps behindus. We turned and drew sword. From the guard-house by the gate, wherethey must have been gambling or drinking or sleeping, or otherwiseneglecting their duty, came four men, who seemed utterly astonished atsight of us. 

"Name of the Virgin!" cried one. "The gate open! Where is Lavigue? He hasleft his post! Who are you?"

"Enemies! Down with La Chatre!" I answered, seeing in a flash that anattempt to fool them might be vain and would take time. A quick fight wasthe thing to serve me best, for these men had been taken by surprise, andtwo of them had only halberds, one had a sword, the fourth had anarquebus but his match was out. 

It was the man with the sword who had spoken. He it was who nowspoke again:

"Enemies? Prisoners, then! Yield!"

And he rushed up to us, accompanied by the halberdiers, while thearquebusier ran to light his match at a torch in the guard-house. 

Never was anything so expeditiously done. The leader knew nothing of finesword work. I had my point through his lungs before the halberdiers cameup. While I was pulling it out, one of the halberdiers aimed a blow atme, and the other threatened Frojac. My follower dodged the thrust meantfor him, and at the same instant laid low, with a wound in the side, thefellow who was aiming at me. Thus one of the halberdiers followed theswordsman to earth instantly. The second halberdier recovered himself, and made to attack Frojac again, but I caught his weapon in my left hand, and so held it, while Frojac ran towards the arquebusier, who was nowcoming from the guard-house with lighted match. The halberdier, whoseweapon I now grasped in one hand, while I held my sword in the other, took fright, let his weapon go, and ran from the courtyard through theopen gateway. The arquebusier tried to bring his weapon to bear onFrojac, but Frojac dropped on his knees and, thrusting from below, ranhis sword into the man's belly. The man fell with a groan, dropping hisweapon and his match. 

I looked around. The courtyard was empty. Were these four, then, the onlysoldiers that had been left to guard the château? No, for these four hadbeen surprised to find the gate open. Some one else must have opened thegate for mademoiselle. Moreover, the swordsman had spoken of a Lavigue. "Take the arquebus and the match, Frojac, " said I, "and come. There isnothing to be done here at present. "

He obeyed me, and we returned to the door of the château. Just as we wereabout to enter, I heard steps as of one coming down a staircase within. Then a man came out. He was a common soldier and he carried a halberd. Atsight of us he stopped, and stood in the greatest astonishment. Then helooked towards the gate. His expression became one of the utmostconsternation. 

A thought came to me. I recalled what the swordsman said. 

"You are Lavigue?" said I to the soldier. 

"Yes, " he said, bewildered. 

"You were on duty at that gate, but you left your post. "

"Yes, but--"

"But you first opened the gate for a lady. "

"It was not I, monsieur, " he answered, as if anxious to exoneratehimself, although he knew not to whom he was talking. "It was my comrade. He said he knew the woman, and that the governor would wish her instantlyadmitted, and he opened the gate. When she came in, I would have had herwait at the gate till M. De la Chatre had been informed, but she ran intothe château, and my comrade with her. There must be something wrong, Ithought, if my comrade would leave his post to go in with the lady. So Iran after them to get her to come back. It was my thought of my duty thatmade me forget the gate. Indeed it was so, monsieur. "

He evidently thought that we were friends of the governor's who hadhappened to arrive at the château at this hour. 

So he, at least, had not received orders to admit mademoiselle. Joyfulhope! Perhaps there had been no understanding between her and thegovernor, after all! But his comrade had let her in, had said that thegovernor would wish the gate opened to her at once. Then there was anunderstanding. 

"Where is your comrade?" I asked. 

"I left him with the lady, in the chamber at the head of the staircase. Ah, I hear him coming down the stairs!"

"Look to this man, Frojac, " said I, and then hastened into the château. The moonlight through the open door showed a large vestibule, from whichthe staircase ascended towards the right. The man coming down thisstaircase was at the bottom step when I entered the vestibule. He stoppedthere, taken by surprise. I saw that he was of short stature and slightfigure. I caught him by the back of the neck with my left hand, andbrought him to his knees before me. 

"Where is the lady who but now entered the château?" I said. "Why are yousilent, knave?"

He trembled in my grasp, and I turned his face up towards mine. It wasthe face of mademoiselle's boy, Pierre, who had left us in the forest!

"You here?" I cried. "It was you, then, who opened the gate to her! Howcame you here? Speak, if ever you would see the blue sky again!"

I pressed my fingers into his throat, until he choked and the fear ofdeath showed in his starting eyes; then I released my clasp, that hemight speak. 

"Oh, monsieur, have mercy!" he gasped. "Do not kill me!"

I saw that he was thoroughly frightened for his life. He was but aboy, and to a boy the imminent prospect of closing one's eyes foreveris not pleasant. 

"Speak, then! Tell the truth!" I said, still holding him by the neck, ready to tighten my clasp at any moment. 

"I will, I will!" he said. "I went from Mlle. De Varion to M. De laChatre, with a message, and he kept me in his service. "

"What message? The truth, boy! I shall see in your eyes whether or not itbe truth you tell me, and if you lie your eyes shall never look on theworld again. Quick, what message?"

"That I came from Mlle. De Varion to the governor, " he answered, huskily, "and that at the top of the hill that rises from the throne-shaped rockby the river road to Narjec is the burrow of the Huguenot fox!"

The last doubt, the last hope, was gone!

"My God!" I cried, and cast the boy away from me. What now to me was heor anything that he might do or say? He cowered for a moment on theground, looking up at me, and then, seeing that I no longer heeded him, ran out to the courtyard. 

For a moment I stood alone in the vestibule, crushed by the terriblecertainty. All women, then, were as bad as Mlle. D'Arency. The sweet andtender girl who had filled my heart was as the worst of them. To bebetrayed was deplorable, but to be betrayed by her! To find her atraitress was terrible, but that I should be her dupe! And that I shouldstill love her, love her, love her!

What, she was in the château, under this roof, and I tarried heredeploring her treason when I might be at her side, clasping her, lookinginto her eyes! "In the chamber at the head of the staircase, " the guardhad said. I forgot Frojac, the guard, Pierre. But one thought, onedesire, one impulse, possessed me. With my dripping sword in my hand, Ibounded up the stairs. They led me to a narrow gallery, which had windowson the side next the courtyard. There were doors on the other side. Asingle light burned. No one was in the gallery. The door nearest thestaircase landing was slightly open. I ran to it and into the chamber towhich it gave entrance. 

As in the gallery, so in the chamber, I found no one. I stood just withinthe threshold and looked around. The walls of the apartment were hungwith tapestry. At the right was first a window, then a chimney-place, beside which stood a sword, then a _prieu-dieu. _ Before the fireplace wasa table, on which were a lamp burning, paper, ink, pens, and a large bowlof fruit. At the left of the chamber was a large bed, its curtains drawnaside. Beside this was another table, on which was an empty tray. Therewas a door, slightly ajar, in that side of the room, and another in theside that faced me. On the back of a chair near the fireplace was slung ahunting-horn. On a stool near the door by which I had entered lay a beltwith a dagger in sheath. The bed looked as if some one had recently lainon it. The presence of the fruit, writing materials, and other thingsseemed to indicate that this was the chamber of M. De la Chatre. But whywas he not in his bed? Probably he could not sleep while he awaited theresult of this midnight enterprise of his troops. Certainly the servantsin the château were asleep. It was apparent that the six guards, four ofwhom we had disposed of, were the only soldiers left at the château, for, if there had been any others in the guard-house, they would have beenawakened by the fight in the courtyard. How many troops were left in thetown, I could not know, but they would not come to the château during thenight unless brought by an alarm. So there would not be many to interposethemselves between mademoiselle and me. But where was she? Whithershould I first turn to seek her. 

I had well-nigh chosen to try the room at the left, when the dooropposite me opened without noise, and a figure glided into the chamber, swiftly and silently. The movement was that of a person who rapidlytraverses a place in search of some one. 

"Mademoiselle!"

She heard me, saw me, stopped, and stood with parted lips, astoundedface, and terror-stricken eyes. 

So we stood, the width of the room between us, regarding each other. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

BEHIND THE CURTAINS

So we stood. Irresistible as had been my impulse to follow her, I nowfound myself held back, as if by the look in her eyes, from approachingnearer. So, while she gazed at me in wonder and terror, I regarded herwith inexpressible scorn and love, horror and adoration. 

Presently she spoke, in a terrified whisper:

"Why are you here?"

I answered in a low voice:

"Because you are here. Like a poisonous flower you lure me. A flower youare in outward beauty! Never was poison more sweetly concealed than istreachery in you!"

"You were mad to follow me!" she said, and then she cast a quick, apprehensive glance around the chamber, a glance that took in thedifferent doors one after another. 

I thought she meant that, as we were in the stronghold of my enemies andher friends, it would be madness in me to attempt to punish hertreachery. So I replied:

"Seek not to fright me from vengeance, for I intend none! I did not cometo punish. I do not know why it is, but where you are not I cannot rest. I am drawn to you as by some power of magic. I would be with you even inhell! Spy, traitress that you are, I love you! Your dupe that I am, Ilove you!" I went to where, with downcast eyes, she stood, and I caughther hand and pressed it to my lips. "I make myself a jest, a thing forlaughter, do I not, kissing the hand that would slay me?"

She raised her eyes, and held out her hand towards the fire-place, saying:

"The hand that I would thrust into the flame to save you from thelightest harm!"

What? Now that I was here, now that my capture seemed certain, would shepretend that she had not acted for La Chatre against me? She did not knowthat I had met Pierre, and what he had confessed to me. 

"Mock me as you will, mademoiselle!" said I. 

"Mistrust me as _you_ will, monsieur! I tell you, I would not have youundergo the smallest harm!"

"You well sustain the jest!"

"Before God, " she answered, "I do not jest!"

There was in her voice a ring of earnestness that seemed impossible to becounterfeit. Puzzled, I looked at her, trying to read her countenance. 

"Yet, " I said, presently, "you were a spy upon me!"

"I was, God pity me! Scourge me with rough words as you will; I meritevery blow!"

"And you came here to see La Chatre, " I went on, "perhaps because youfeared discovery, perhaps because you thought your work of betrayal wasdone" (for I thought that she may have known of the midnight march of thegovernor's troops), "perhaps to finish that work!"

"Now you wrong me at last!" she cried. "Thank God, I am not as bad as youcan think me!"

"Then you did not come here to see La Chatre?"

"I came to see him, I admit! I was seeking him when I met you here. Butit was not because I feared discovery that I left you, nor because Ithought my miserable work was done, nor to finish it. "

I saw now that she was in great agitation. She tottered forward to thetable and put her hand on it, and leaned on it for support. 

It seemed as if she were speaking the truth, as if there might be someexplanation of all, but that her inward excitement was too great, herideas too confused, for her to assemble the facts and present them inproper order. It seemed that she could answer my accusations only as theycame, that she acknowledged herself guilty in part towards me, and yetdid not wish me harm. 

"Mademoiselle, " I said, dropping my harshness and irony, "to believe youtrue would make me as happy as I now am wretched. But why is your boyhere, in the governor's service? Why did he carry from you the secret ofmy hiding-place?"

Mademoiselle shuddered and gave a gesture of despair, as if there wereindeed no defence for her. 

"Why are the troops away, if not in quest of me?" I asked. "We saw themgoing towards Maury by the river road. "

"I did not know that the troops had gone, or were going, " she said. "Iswear to you, monsieur, if troops have gone to Maury this night, I hadnothing to do with their going!"

"But they knew what road to take, and how to find my hiding-place. LaChatre knew that. "

"Alas, it is true!" she moaned, while tears ran down her face. "I senthim word!"

"You sent him word! You learned how to reach La Tournoire's hiding-placefrom the man you thought his friend, and you sent the secret to thegovernor, whom you knew to be his enemy? And yet you are not as bad as Ican think you!"

"I sent him word of your hiding-place; but he was not to seize you till Ihad arranged a meeting with you alone and informed him of it!"

"You confess this! Oh, mademoiselle!"

"Consider! Did I arrange that meeting?"

"You had not time. It was but this afternoon you learned La Chatre was atClochonne. "

"Yet, instead of coming here to-night I might have done it, monsieur. Iran no risk of discovery in staying at Maury. You would still have hadfaith in me had I remained there. And it was easy to do; it was allplanned. You know the old tower by the spring, to which we walked theother day. I was to send Hugo at midnight to M. De la Chatre, with wordto have his men hidden there to-morrow at sunset. To-morrow I was to gooff into the forest with Jeannotte, and at sunset she was to come to you, saying that I was at the tower grievously injured. You would have gone, monsieur, without waiting to call any of your men; you would have come atmy summons on the instant, to the end of the world--"

"You knew that? Truly, the heart of man is an open page to women!"

"It was easily to be done, monsieur. Hugo could have shown the troops theway. The place was well chosen. Neither your sentinels nor the inn peoplewould have seen the troops. They would have hidden there in wait for you. So we had planned it, I and Jeannotte; but I abandoned it. I gave noorders to Hugo. I came to Clochonne. "

"Yes, knowing, perchance, that I would come after you. You thought tomake of Clochonne a trap into which to lead me! You were careful to letit be known where you were coming, that I might find out and follow!"

"I told only my maid and Hugo, in a moment of excitement, when I scarceknew what I said. I no more desired you to follow than I desired myselfto stay at Maury to call you to the ambush!"

"The ambush!" I echoed. "You forget one thing, mademoiselle, when youtake credit for renouncing the ambush. The troops have gone already toMaury. Had they found me there, they would have made your ambushunnecessary or impossible. "

"But I knew nothing of their going to Maury, " she said, helplessly. "Itwas not to have been so. You were to have been taken by an ambush, I say!If the governor sent troops to attack you to-night, he must have changedthe plan. "

Now, I could indeed believe this, for I had overheard the plan suggestedby Montignac, and her very talk about the ambush seemed to show that hisplan had been adopted without change. In that case, she might not haveknown of the movement of the troops. La Chatre might have decided, atany time, to change his plan. Perhaps he had done this, and, for lack ofmeans or for some other reason, had not tried to inform her, or hadtried in vain. 

She stood like an accused woman before her judges, incapable offormulating her defence, expressing her distress by an occasional low, convulsive sob. What did her conduct mean? Was her demeanor genuine orassumed? Why did she confess one thing and deny another? Why did she seemguilty and not guilty?

"I am puzzled more and more, " I said. "I thought that, when I saw you, Ishould at least learn the truth. I should at least know whether to loveyou as an angel, who had been wronged alike by circumstances and byreport, or as a beautiful demon, who would betray me to my death; but Iam not even to know what you are. You betrayed my hiding-place. So far, at least, you are guilty; but you did not arrange the ambush that youwere to have arranged. For so much you claim credit. Whatever are yourwishes in regard to me, they shall be fulfilled. I am yours, to be sentto my death, if that is your will. What would you have me do?"

"Save yourself!" she whispered, eagerly, her eyes suddenly aflame with akind of hope, as if the possibility had just occurred to her. 

Was this pretence? Did she know that I could not escape, and did she yetwish, for shame's or vanity's sake, to appear well in my eyes?

"I shall not leave you, " I said, quietly. 

"Hark!" she whispered. "Some one comes!"

She looked towards the door near the head of the bed, the door that wasslightly ajar. She looked aghast, as one does at the apprehension of agreat and imminent danger. "Go while there is time! Do you not hear? Itis the voice of La Chatre! I recognize it! And the other, --his secretary, Montignac! Go, go, I pray you on my knees, flee while there is yet time!"

She did indeed fall to her knees, clutching my arm with one hand, andwith the other trying to push me from the room, all the while showing avery anguish of solicitude on her white face. Her eyes plead with me formy own deliverance. The voices, which I too recognized, came nearer andnearer, but slowly, as if the speakers were impeded in their progressthrough the adjoining chamber. "Save yourself, save yourself!" shecontinued to whisper. 

"Come what may, " I whispered in reply, my hand tightening on my sword, "Iwill not leave you!"

"Then, " she whispered, rapidly, seeing that I was not to be moved, "ifyou will court death, at least know me first as I am, --no better, noworse! Hide somewhere, --there behind the bed-curtains, --and hear what Ishall say to La Chatre! After that, if death find you, he shall find mewith you! I implore you, conceal yourself. "

There was no pretence now, I was sure. Mystified, yet not doubting, Iwhispered: "I yield, mademoiselle! God knows I would believe youinnocent!" and went behind the curtains, at the foot of the bed. It waseasy to stand behind these without disturbing the natural folds in whichthey fell to the floor. The curtains at the sides also served to shieldme from view, so that I could not have been seen except from within thebed itself. 

I had no sooner found this concealment, and mademoiselle had no soonertaken her place, standing with as much composure as she could assume, ashort distance from the foot of the bed, than M. De la Chatre and hissecretary entered the chamber. Peering between the curtains, I saw thatLa Chatre was lame, and that he walked with the aid of a stick on oneside and Montignac's shoulder on the other. 

"To think, " he was saying as he came in, "that the misstep of a horseshould have made a helpless cripple of me, when I might have led thishunt myself!"

I assumed that the "hunt" was the expedition to Maury, and smiled tothink how far was the game from the place of hunting. 

The undisturbed mien of La Chatre showed that he had not heard of thearrival of mademoiselle or of myself, or of the brief fight in thecourtyard. He would not have worn that look of security had he knownthat, of six guards at the château, three now lay dead in the courtyard, one had fled, and two were being looked after by my man Frojac. 

He wore a rich chamber-robe and was bareheaded. Montignac was attiredrather like a soldier than like a scribe, having on a buff jerkin andwearing both sword and dagger. His breeches and hose were of dull hue, so that the only brightness of color on him was the red of his hair andlips. It was, doubtless, from an excess of precaution that he went sowell armed in the château at so late an hour. Yet I smiled to seeweapons on this slight and fragile-looking youth, whose strength lay inhis brain rather than in his wrist. With great interest I watched himnow, knowing that he had devised the plan for my capture, had causedMlle. De Varion to be sent on her mission against me, and had sent DeBerquin on his mission against her. This march of the troops to Maury, also, was probably his doing, even though it did imply a change from theplan overheard by me, and confessed by mademoiselle. He had, too, if DeBerquin had told the truth, resolved to possess mademoiselle. He wasthus my worst foe, this subtle youth who had never seen me, and whom Ihad never injured. He still had that look of mock humility, repressedscorn, half-concealed derision, hidden ambition, vast inner resource, mental activity, all under a calm and thoughtful countenance, over whichhe had control. 

It was not until they had passed the bed that they saw mademoiselle. Both stopped and looked astonished. Montignac recognized her at once, and first frowned, as if annoyed; then looked elated, as if herpresence suited his projects. But La Chatre did not immediately knowher. He lost color, as if it were a spirit that he saw, and, indeed, mademoiselle, motionless and pale, looked not unlike some beautifulbeing of another world. 

"Who are you?" asked La Chatre, in a startled tone. 

"It is I--Mlle. De Varion. "

La Chatre promptly came to himself; but he looked somewhat confused, abashed, and irritated. 

"Mlle. De Varion, indeed!" he said. "And why comes Mlle. De Varion here?"

And now Montignac spoke, fixing his eyes on La Chatre, and using a quietbut resolute tone:

"She comes too late. La Tournoire will be taken without her aid. "

"Be silent, Montignac!" said La Chatre, assuming the authoritative forthe sake of appearance. "It is true, mademoiselle; you are too late infulfilling your part of the agreement. "

He spoke with some embarrassment, and I began to see why. Inasmuch as hehad been at Clochonne but little more than one day, no more time hadpassed than would have been necessary for the arrangement of the ambush. Therefore it could not be honestly held that she had been tardy infulfilling her mission; that is to say, when he told her that she was toolate, he lied. Hence his embarrassment, for he was a gentleman. Now whydid he put forth this false pretext of tardiness on her part?

"Too late in fulfilling your part of the agreement, " said the governor. 

"I came, monsieur, " said mademoiselle, heedless of the lie and theapparent attempt to put her at fault, "to be released from my agreement. "

Montignac looked surprised, then displeased. La Chatre appeared relieved, but astonished. 

"Released, mademoiselle?" he exclaimed, assuming too late a kind ofvirtuous displeasure to cover his real satisfaction. 

"Released, monsieur!" said mademoiselle. "I shall no further help youtake M. De la Tournoire. It was to tell you that, and for nothing else inthe world, that I came to Clochonne this night!"

She was close to the bed-curtains behind which I stood. I felt that herwords were meant for my ears as well as for the governor's. 

"I shall not need your help, mademoiselle, " replied the governor, with aside smile at Montignac. "Yet this is strange. You do not, then, wishyour father's freedom?"

"Not on the terms agreed on, monsieur! Not to have my father set freefrom prison, not even to save him from torture, not even from death. Itake back my promise, and give you back your own. I gave you word of LaTournoire's hiding-place, and so far resigned my honor. I abandon myhateful task unfinished, and so far I get my honor back. And, now, do asyou will!"

I could have shouted for joy!

This, then, explained it all. She had undertaken to betray me, but itwas to save her father! I remembered now. They had wanted a spy "whowould have all to lose by failure. " Such were Montignac's words at theinn at Fleurier. A spy, too, who might gain a wary man's confidence, andwith whom a rebel captain might desire or consent to a meeting away fromhis men. Hardly had their need been uttered when there came mademoiselleto beg a pardon for her father. A woman, beautiful and guileless, whomany man might adore and trust, of whom any man might beg a tryst; awoman, whose father was already in prison, his fate at the governor'swill; a woman, inexperienced and credulous, easily made to believe thather father's crime was of the gravest; a woman, dutiful andaffectionate, willing to purchase her father's life and freedom at anycost. What better instrument could have come to their hands? Her anxietyto save her father would give her the powers of dissimulation necessaryto do the work. Her purity and innocence were a rare equipment for thetask of a Delilah. Who would suspect her of guile and intrigue any morethan I had done?

And now, having gone as far as she had in the task, she had abandoned it. Even to save her father, she would no more play the traitress against me!Against _me_! She loved me, then! Her task had become intolerable. Shemust relieve herself of it. Yet as long as La Chatre still supposed thatshe was carrying it out, she would feel bound by her obligation to him. She must free herself of that obligation. She had made a compact withhim, she had given him her word. Though she resolved not to betray me, she would not betray him either. He must no longer rely on her for theperformance of a deed that she had cast from her. She must not play falseeven with him. All must hereafter be open and honest with her. The firststep towards regaining her self-respect was to see the governor andrenounce the commission. Then, but not till then, would she dare confessall to me. I saw all this in an instant, as she had felt it, for peopledo not arrive at such resolutions slowly and by reason, but instantly andby feeling. 

And all that she had done and suffered had been to save her father! Had Ibut told her at once of my intention to deliver him, if possible, allthis, and my own hours of torment, might have been avoided. From whatlittle things do events take their course!

I rejoiced, I say, behind the curtains, on learning the truth. Whatmatter if we met death together in the enemy's stronghold, now that shewas pure and loved me? And yet, if we could but find a way out of this, and save her father as well, what joy life would have!

La Chatre cast another jubilant smile at Montignac. The governor wasplainly delighted that mademoiselle herself had given up the task, nowthat he had changed his plans and had no further use for her in them. Itrelieved him of the disagreeable necessity of making her an explanationcomposed of lies. He was really a gallant and amiable gentleman, andsubterfuge, especially when employed against a lady, was obnoxious tohim. As for Montignac, he stood frowning meditatively. He surely guessedthat mademoiselle's act was inspired by love for me, and the thought wasnot pleasant to him. 

Suddenly the governor turned quite pale, and asked quickly, insome alarm:

"Did you speak the truth when you sent word of his hiding-place?"

It would, indeed, have been exasperating if he had sent his troops on afalse scent. 

Mademoiselle hesitated a moment, then turned her eyes towards thebed-curtains, and said:

"Yes, monsieur. "

Her look, as I saw it, expressed that my position was not so bad, afterall, as long as the troops were away, and La Chatre supposed that I wasat Maury being captured by them. 

La Chatre, reassured by her tone, which of course had the ring of truth, again breathed freely. 

"Then I release you from your agreement, mademoiselle, " he said, andadded slowly and with a curious look at Montignac, "and your father maylanguish in the château of Fleurier. But note this, mademoiselle: youwithdraw your aid from our purpose of capturing this traitor. Therefore, you wish him freedom. For you, in the circumstances, not to oppose him isto aid him. That is treason. I must treat you accordingly, mademoiselle. "

"I have said, do with me as you will, " she answered. For a time, relievedof the burden that had weighed so heavily on her, she seemed resigned toany fate. It was not yet that her mind rose to activity, and she began tosee possibilities of recovering something from the ruins. 

And now the demeanor of La Chatre became peculiar. He spoke tomademoiselle, while he looked at Montignac, as if he were taking anunexpected opportunity to carry out something prearranged between himand the secretary; as if he were dissembling to her, and soughtMontignac's attention and approval. His look seemed to say to thesecretary, "You see how well I am doing it?" Montignac stood with foldedarms and downcast eyes, attending carefully to La Chatre's words, buthaving too much tact to betray his interest. 

"And yet, " said La Chatre, "you have been of some service to me in thismatter, and I would in some measure reward you. You sent me informationof La Tournoire's whereabouts, and for so much you deserve to be paid. But you leave unfinished the service agreed on, and of course you cannotclaim your father's release. "

"Yet, if I have at all served you in this, as unhappily I have, there isno other payment that you possibly can make me, " said mademoiselle. 

"The question as to whether you ought to be rewarded for what you havedone, or held guilty of treasonable conduct in withdrawing at so late astage, " said La Chatre, "is a difficult matter for me to deal with. Theremay be a way in which it can be settled with satisfaction to yourself. Itis your part, not mine, to find such a way and propose it. You may takecounsel of some one--of my secretary, M. Montignac. He is one who, unlikeyourself, is entitled to my favor and the King's, and who may, onoccasion, demand some deviation from the strict procedure of justice. Were he to ask, as a favor to himself, special lenience for your father, or even a pardon and release, his request would have to be seriouslyconsidered. Advise her, Montignac. I shall give you a few minutes to talkwith her. "

And La Chatre, aided by his stick, made his way to the window, where hestood with his back towards the other two. 

I was not too dull to see that all this was but a clumsy way ofthrowing mademoiselle's fate and her father's into the hands ofMontignac. The governor's manner, as I have indicated, showed that hehad previously agreed to do this on fit occasion, and that he nowperceived that occasion. 

A new thought occurred to me. Had Montignac, coming more and more todesire mademoiselle, and doubting the ability of his hastily foundinstrument, De Berquin, sought and obtained the governor's sanction tohis wishes? Had he advised this midnight march to Maury in order that Imight be caught ere mademoiselle could fulfil her mission; in order, that is to say, to prevent her from earning her father's freedom by themeans first proposed; in order that La Chatre might name a new price forthat freedom; in order, in fine, that herself should be the price, andMontignac the recipient? Montignac could persuade the governor toanything, why not to this? It was a design worthy alike of thesecretary's ingenuity and villainy. Circumstance soon showed that I wasright, that the governor had indeed consented to this perfidy. Mademoiselle's unexpected arrival at Clochonne had given excellentoccasion for the project to be carried out. The governor himself hadrecognized the fitness of the time. No wonder that he had at firstfalsely charged her with tardiness, pretended that her delay had causedthe alteration of his plans. He had needed a pretext for having sent histroops to capture me so that he might cheat her of her reward. I burnedwith indignation. That two men of power and authority should so trick ahelpless girl, so use her love for her father to serve their ownpurposes, so employ that father's very life as coin with which to buyher compliance, so cozen her of the reward of what service she had done, so plot to make of her a slave and worse, so threaten and use and cheather! No man ever felt greater wrath than I felt as I stood behind thecurtains and saw Montignac lift his eyes to mademoiselle's in obedienceto the governor's command. Yet, by what power I know not, I held myselfcalm, ready to act at the suitable moment. I had taken a resolution, andwould carry it out if sword and wit should serve me. But meanwhile Iwaited unseen. 

Mademoiselle drew back almost imperceptibly, and on her face came theslightest look of repugnance. From her manner of regarding him, it wasevident that this was not the first time she had been conscious of hisadmiration and felt repelled by it. The meeting in the inn at Fleurierhad left with her a vastly different impression from that which it hadleft with him. 

Without smiling, he now bowed very courteously, and placed a chair forher near where she stood. 

"Mademoiselle, " he said, with great tenderness, yet most respectfully, "aharder heart than mine would be moved by your gentleness and beauty. "

And here my own heart beat very rapidly at sound of another man speakingso adoringly to my beloved. 

She looked at him questioningly, as if his tone and manner showed thatshe had misjudged him. His bearing was so gentle and sympathetic that shecould not but be deceived by it. She ceased to show repugnance, and satin the chair that he had brought. 

"Monsieur, " she said, "in my first opinion I may have wronged you. Ifyour heart is truly moved, you can demonstrate your goodness by askingfor my father's freedom. M. De la Chatre will grant it to you. You have aclaim on his favor, as he says, while I have none. Free my father, then, and make me happy!"

Poor Julie! She thought not of herself. She knew that it would beuseless to ask anything for me. Yet there was one thing that might be hadfrom the situation--her father's freedom. So she summoned her energies, and devoted them to striving for that, though she was in terror of mybeing at any moment discovered. 

"I would make you the happiest of women, " said Montignac, in a low, impassioned tone, falling on one knee and taking her hand, "if you wouldmake me the happiest of men. "

Apprehension came into her eyes. She rose and moved towards thebed-curtains, and, in the vain hope of turning him from his purpose bypretending not to perceive it, said, with a sad little smile:

"Alas! it is out of my poor power to confer happiness!"

She half-turned her head towards where I stood behind the curtains, partly at thought of the happiness that it seemed impossible for her toconfer on me, partly in fear lest Montignac's words might bring me forth. 

"It is easily in your power to confer more than happiness, " saidMontignac. 

"How, monsieur?" she faltered, trembling under two fears, that ofMontignac's ardor and that of my disclosing myself. "I am puzzled toknow. "

"By conferring your hand, mademoiselle, " said Montignac, following herand grasping her wrist. "Your father will be glad to give his consent forhis liberty, if he knows that you have given yours. But we can arrange toproceed without his consent. Do not draw back, mademoiselle. It ismarriage that I offer, when I might make other terms. My family is a goodone; my prospects are the best, and I have to lay at your feet a lovethat has never been offered to another, a love as deep as it is fresh--"

I clutched the curtain to give vent to my rage. Mademoiselle was lookingtowards me, and saw the curtain move. 

"Say no more!" she cried, fearful lest his continuance might be too muchfor my restraint. "I cannot hear you?"

"I love you, mademoiselle, " he went on, losing his self-control, so thathis face quivered with passion. "I can save you and your father!"

He thrust his face so close to hers that she drew back with an expressionof disgust. 

"A fine love, indeed?" she cried, scornfully, "that would buy the love itdare not hope to elicit free!" And she turned to La Chatre as if forprotection. But the governor shook his head, and remained motionless atthe window. 

"A love you shall not despise, mademoiselle!" hissed Montignac, stung byher scorn. He was standing by the table near the bed, and, in hisanger, he made to strike the table with his dagger, but he struckinstead the tray on the table, and so produced a loud, ringing soundthat startled the ear. 

"Your fate is in my hands, " he went on; "so is your father's. As for thisTournoire, concerning whom you have suddenly become scrupulous, he is, doubtless, by this time in the hands of the troops who have gone for him, and very well it is that we decided not to wait for you to lead him tous. So he had best be dismissed from your mind, as he presently will befrom this life. Accept me, and your father goes free! Spurn me, and hedies in the château of Fleurier, and you shall still belong to me! Whynot give me what I have the power and the intention to take?"

"If you take it, " cried mademoiselle, "that is your act. Were I to give, that would be mine. It is by our own acts that we stand or fall in ourown eyes and God's!" She spoke loudly, in a resolute voice, as if to showme that she could look to herself, so that I need not come out to herdefence, --for well she guessed my mind, and knew that, though she hadconsented a thousand times to betray me, I would not stand passive whilea man pressed his unwelcome love on her. And now, as if to force a changeof theme by sheer vehemence of manner, she turned her back towardsMontignac and addressed La Chatre with a fire that she had notpreviously shown. 

"You have heard the proposal of this buyer of love! You hear me rejectit! M. De la Chatre, I hold you to your word. I have been of some serviceto you in the matter of La Tournoire, and you would, in some measure, reward me! You have said it! Very well! You expect to capture himto-night at his hiding-place. Through me you learned that hiding-place, therefore, through me you will have taken him. There is but one possibleway in which you can reward me: Keep your word! What if I did refuse toplan the ambush? You yourself had already decided to dispense with that. In the circumstances, all that I could have done for you I have done. Would I could undo it! But I cannot! Therefore, give me now, at once, anorder that I may take to Fleurier for my father's release!"

La Chatre was plainly annoyed, for he loved to keep the letter of hisword. He could not deceive this woman, as he had at first felicitatedhimself on doing, with a false appearance of fair dealing. She sawthrough that appearance. It was indeed irritating to so honest agentleman. To gain time for a plausible answer, he moved slowly from thewindow to the centre of the chamber. At the same time, mademoiselle, tobe further from Montignac, went towards the door by which she had enteredthe room on my arrival. The secretary, with wolf-like eyes, followedher, and both turned so as still to face the governor. 

"I shall devise some proper reward for you, " said La Chatre, slowly. "Iadhere always to the strict letter of my word; but I am not bound to freeyour father. The strict letter of my word, remember! Recall my words toyou at the inn. I recall them exactly, and so does Montignac, who thisvery evening reminded me of--ahem, that is to say, I recall them exactly. I was to send the order to the governor of Fleurier for your father'simmediate release the instant I should stand face to face with the Sieurde la Tournoire in the château of Clochonne. "

I threw aside the bed-curtain, stepped forth, and said:

"That time has come, monsieur!"

CHAPTER XVII. 

SWORD AND DAGGER

M. De la Chatre could not have been more surprised if a spirit had risenfrom the floor at his feet. He stared at me with startled eyes. I hadsheathed my sword while behind the curtains, and now I stood motionless, with folded arms, before him. Mademoiselle uttered a slight cry. Montignac, who stood beside her, was as much taken aback as La Chatrewas, but was quicker to comprehend the situation. Without moving from hisattitude of surprise, he regarded me with intense curiosity and hate. This was his first sight of me, hence his curiosity. He had alreadyinferred that mademoiselle loved me, therefore his hate. 

"Who are you?" said La Chatre, at last, in a tone of mingled alarm andresentment, as one might address a supernatural intruder. 

"The Sieur de la Tournoire, " said I, "standing face to face with you inthe château of Clochonne! You shall give mademoiselle that order for herfather's release, or you shall never break your word again. "

And I drew my sword, and held it with its point towards his breast. 

The fear of death blanched his cheeks and spurred his dull wits. 

"Montignac, " he cried, keeping his eyes fixed on mine, "if this man makesa move, kill the woman!"

In his situation of peril, his mind had become agile. He had suddenlyperceived how things were between mademoiselle and me. 

As I have shown, Montignac stood with mademoiselle at some distance fromLa Chatre and myself. I dared not take my eye from the governor, lest heshould step out of reach of my sword; but I could hear Montignac quicklyunsheathe his dagger, and mademoiselle give a sharp ejaculation of pain. Then I turned my head for a moment's glance, and saw that he had caughther wrist in a tight grasp, and that he held his dagger ready to plungeit into her breast. 

For a short time we stood thus, while I considered what to do next. Itwas certain that Montignac would obey the governor's order, if only outof hatred for me and in revenge on her for his despised love, though hemight fall by my sword a moment later. Therefore, I did not dare go toattack him any more than I dared attack La Chatre. The governor, ofcourse, would not let her be killed unless I made some hostile movement, for if she were dead nothing could save him from me, unless help came. Hefeared to call for help, I suppose, lest rather than be taken I shouldrisk a rush at Montignac, and have himself for an instant at my mercy, after all. 

I cast another glance at Montignac, and measured the distance from me tohim, to consider whether I might reach him before he could strikemademoiselle. La Chatre must have divined my thought, for he said:

"Montignac, I will deal with this gentleman. Take mademoiselle into thatchamber and close the door. " And he pointed to the door immediatelybehind mademoiselle, the one by which I had first seen her enter. 

"But, monsieur--" began Montignac. 

"I had not quite finished, Montignac, " went on La Chatre. "I have myreason for desiring you and the lady to withdraw. Fear not to leave mewith him. Lame as I am, I am no match for him, it is true, butmademoiselle shall continue to be a hostage for his good behavior. "

"I understand, " said Montignac, "but how shall I know--?"

"Should M. De la Tournoire make one step towards me, " said thegovernor, --here he paused and took up the hunting-horn and looked at it, but presently dropped it and pointed to the bowl of fruit on the tablenear the fireplace, --"I shall strike this bowl, thus. " He struck thebowl with his stick, and it gave forth a loud, metallic ring, like thatpreviously produced by Montignac's dagger from the tray on the othertable. "The voice is not always to be relied on, " continued the governor. "Sometimes it fails when most needed. But a sound like this, " and hestruck the bowl again, "can be made instantly and with certainty. Shouldyou hear one stroke on the bowl, --one only, not followed quickly by asecond stroke, --let mademoiselle pay for the rashness of her champion!"

"Yes, monsieur, " replied Montignac, a kind of diabolical triumph inhis voice. 

"It may be, " said La Chatre, "that no such violent act will be necessary, and that I shall merely require your presence here. In that case, I shallstrike twice rapidly, thus. Therefore, when you hear a stroke, wait aninstant lest there be a second stroke. But if there be no second, act asI have told you. "

"After you, mademoiselle, " said Montignac, indicating by a motion hisdesire that she should precede him backward out of the chamber. He stillclutched her arm and held his dagger aloft, intending thus to back out ofthe room after her. 

"I will not go!" she answered, trying to resist the force that he wasusing on her arm. 

This was the first resistance she had offered She had previously stoodmotionless beneath his lifted dagger, feeling herself unable to breakfrom his grasp of iron, and supposing that any effort to do so wouldbring down the dagger into her delicate breast. A woman's instinctivehorror of such a blow deterred her from the slightest movement that mightinvite it. She had trusted to me for what action might serve to save usfrom our enemies. But now her terror of leaving my presence, and herhorror of being alone with Montignac, overcame her fear of the dagger. "Iwill not go!" she repeated. 

"Go, mademoiselle, " said I, gently, taking her glove from my belt, whereI had placed it, and kissing it, to show that I was still her devotedchevalier. "Go! 'Tis the better way. " For I welcomed any step that mighttake Montignac from the chamber, and leave La Chatre's wit unaided tocope with mine. 

Her eyes showed submission, and she immediately obeyed the guidanceof Montignac's hand. Facing me still, he went out after her, andclosed the door. 

I was alone with La Chatre. 

"My secretary stood a little too near the point of your sword, " said thegovernor, "for the perfect security of my hostage. There was just apossibility of your being too quick for him. I saw that you werecontemplating that possibility. As it is now, should I give him thesignal, --as I shall if you move either towards me or towards thatchamber, --he could easily put mademoiselle out of the way before youcould open the door. Not that I desire harm to mademoiselle. Her deathwould not serve me at all It would, indeed, be something that I shouldhave to deplore. If I should deplore it, how much more would you! Andsince you surely will not be so ungallant as to cause the death of socharming a lady, I think I have you, let us say, at a slightdisadvantage!" And he sat down beside the table near the fireplace. 

"I think not so, monsieur, " said I, touching lightly with my sword'spoint the tray on the table near the bed; "for should you strike once onyour bowl, I should very quickly strike once on this tray, so that twostrokes would be heard, and the obedient Montignac, mindful of hisorders, would enter this chamber, _not_ having slain mademoiselle. "

I ought not to have disclosed this, my advantage. I ought rather to havesummoned Montignac by two strokes on the tray, and been at the door toreceive him. But I had not waited to consider. I spoke of the advantageas soon as I noticed it, supposing that La Chatre, on seeing it, wouldthink himself at my mercy and would come to my terms. He was taken backsomewhat, it is true, but not much. 

"Pah!" he said "After all, I could shout to him. "

"It would be your last shouting. Moreover, your shouted orders would becut off unfinished, and the punctilious Montignac would be left in doubtas to your wishes. Rather than slay mademoiselle on an uncertainty, hewould come hither to assure himself, --in which case God pity him!"

"Thank you for your warning, monsieur, " said La Chatre, with mockcourtesy. "There shall be no shouting. "

Whereupon he struck the bowl with his stick. Taken by surprise, I couldonly strike my tray with my sword, so that two strokes might surely beheard, although at the same time he gave a second stroke, showing thathis intention was merely to summon Montignac. In my momentary fear formademoiselle's life, and with my thoughts instantly concentrated onstriking the tray, I did not have the wit to leap to the door and receiveMontignac on my sword's point, as I would have done had I myself summonedhim, or had I expected La Chatre's signal. 

So there I stood, far from the door, when it opened, and the secretaryadvanced his foot across the threshold. Even then I made a movement as ifto rush on him, but he brought forward his left hand and I saw that itstill clutched the white wrist of mademoiselle. Only her arm was visiblein the doorway. Montignac still held his dagger raised. One stepbackward and one thrust, and he could lay her dead at his feet. Had Ibeen ready at the door for him, I could have killed him before he couldhave made these two movements; but from where I stood, I could not havedone so. So I listened in some chagrin to the governor's words. 

"I change the signal, Montignac. At one stroke, do not harm the lady, butcome hither; but should you hear two strokes, or three, or any numbermore, she is to be sacrificed. "

"My dagger is ready, monsieur!"

Again the door closed; again I was alone with La Chatre. 

I had lost my former advantage. For now, should I strike my trayonce, for the purpose of summoning Montignac, so that I might be atthe door to slay him at first sight, the governor could strike hisbowl, and Montignac would hear two strokes or more--signal formademoiselle's death. 

"And now, monsieur, " said the governor, making himself comfortable in hischair between table and fireplace, "let us talk. You see, if you approachme or that door, or if you start to leave this chamber, I can easilystrike the bowl twice before you take three steps. "

I could see that he was not as easy in his mind as he pretended to be. Itwas true that, as matters now were, his life was secure through my regardfor mademoiselle's; but were he to attempt leaving the room or callinghelp, or, indeed, if help were to come uncalled, and I should find my ownlife or liberty threatened, I might risk anything, even mademoiselle'slife, for the sake of revenge on him. He would not dare save himself byletting me go free out of his own château. To do that would bring downthe wrath of the Duke of Guise, would mean ruin. That I knew well. If Ishould go to leave the chamber, he would give the signal for Montignac tokill mademoiselle. As for me. I did not wish to go without her or until Ishould have accomplished a certain design I had conceived. Thus I was LaChatre's prisoner, and he was mine. Each could only hope, by thought ortalk, to arrive at some means of getting the better of the other. 

La Chatre's back was towards the door by which I had entered. By merechance, it seemed, I turned my head towards that door. At that instant, my man, Frojac, appeared in the doorway. He had approached with thesilence of a ghost. He carried the arquebus that had belonged to theguardsman, and his match was burning. Risking all on the possible effectof a sudden surprise on the governor, I cried, sharply:

"Fire on that man, Frojac, if he moves. "

La Chatre, completely startled, rose from his chair and turned about, forgetful of the stick and bowl. When his glance reached Frojac, my goodman had his arquebus on a line with the governor's head, the matchdangerously near the breech. 

"I have looked after the guards, monsieur, " said Frojac, cheerily, "both of them. "

"Stand where you are, " said I to him, "and if that gentleman attempts tostrike that bowl, see that he does not live to strike it more than once. "

"He shall not strike it even once, monsieur!"

"You see, M. De la Chatre, " said I, "the contents of an arquebus travelfaster than a man can. "

"This is unfair!" were the first words of the governor, after his seasonof dumb astonishment. 

"Pardon me, " said I. "It is but having you, let us say, at a slightdisadvantage; and now I think I may move. "

I walked over to the governor's table and took up the bowl. La Chatrewatched me in helpless chagrin, informing himself by a side glance thatFrojac's weapon still covered him. 

"You look somewhat irritated and disgusted, monsieur, " said I. "Praysit down!"

As I held my sword across the table, the point in close proximity to hischest, he obeyed, uttering a heavy sigh at his powerlessness. I thenthrew the bowl into the bed, taking careful aim so that it might make nosound. At that moment I saw La Chatre look towards the chamber in whichwere Montignac and mademoiselle, and there came on his face the sign ofa half-formed project. 

"See also, Frojac, " said I, "that he does not open his mouth to shout. "

"He shall be as silent as if born dumb, monsieur. "

"Oh, he may speak, but not so loud as to be heard in the next chamber. Look to it, Frojac. "

"Very well, monsieur. "

For I did not wish, as yet, that Montignac should know what was going on. Through the closed door and the thick tapestried walls, only a loud cry, or some such sound as a stroke on the resonant bowl or tray, could havereached him. We had spoken in careful tones, La Chatre not daring toraise his voice. Thus the closing of the door, intended by the governorto make Montignac safer from a sudden rush on my part, now served my ownpurpose. It is true that, since Frojac had appeared, and the governorcould not make his signal, I might have summoned Montignac by a singlestroke, and despatched him in the doorway. But now that my own positionwas easier, I saw that such a manoeuvre, first contemplated when only adesperate stroke seemed possible, was full of danger to mademoiselle. Imight bungle it, whereupon Montignac would certainly attempt one blowagainst her, though it were his last. I must, therefore, use the governorto release her from her perilous situation; but first I must use him foranother purpose, which the presence of the keen-witted Montignac mightdefeat. Hence, the secretary was not yet to be made aware of the turnthings had taken. 

There were three quills on the table. I took up one of them and dipped itin the horn of ink. 

"Shall I tell you of what you are thinking, monsieur, " said I, observingon the governor's face a new expression, that of one who listens andmakes some mental calculation. 

"Amuse yourself as you please, monsieur, " he answered. 

"You are thinking, first, that as I am in your château, and not alone, Ihave, doubtless, deprived you of all the soldiers left to guard yourchâteau; secondly, that at a certain time, a few hours ago, your troopsset out for my residence; that they have probably now learned that I amnot there; that they have consequently started to return. You are askingyourself what will happen if I am here when they arrive. Will I kill youbefore I allow myself to be taken? Probably, you say. Men like me valuethemselves highly, and sell themselves dearly. You would rather that Ileave before they come. Then you can send them on my track. Very well;write, monsieur!" And I handed him the pen. 

He looked at me with mingled vindictiveness and wonder, as if it wereremarkable that I had uttered the thoughts that any one in his positionmust have had. Mechanically he took the pen. 

"What shall I write?" he muttered. 

"Write thus: To M. De Brissard, governor of Fleurier. Release M. DeVarion immediately. Let him accompany the man who bears this and whobrings a horse for him. "

With many baitings, many side glances at Frojac's arquebus and mysword-point, many glum looks and black frowns, he wrote, while I watchedfrom across the table. Then he threw the document towards me. 

"Sign and seal, " I said, tossing it back to him. 

With intended slovenliness he affixed the signature and seal, then threwthe pen to the floor. I took the order, scanned it, and handed himanother pen. 

"Excellent!" said I. "And now again!"

He made a momentary show of haughty, indignant refusal, but a movement ofmy sword quelled the brief revolt in him. 

"The bearer of this, " I dictated, "M. De Varion, is to pass free in theprovince, and to cross the border where he will. "

This time he signed and affixed the seal without additional request. Hethrew the second pen after the first, and looked up at me with a scowl. 

"A bold, brave signature, monsieur! There is one pen left!" and I handedhim the third quill. 

He took it with a look of wrath, after which he gave a sigh of forcedpatience, and sat ready to write. 

"The bearer of this, Ernanton de Launay--"

"Ernanton de Launay?" he repeated, looking up inquiringly. 

"Ernanton de Launay, Sieur de la Tournoire, --" I went on. 

He stared at me aghast, as if my presumption really passed all bounds, but a glint of light on my sword caught his eye, he carried his eye alongto the point, which was under his nose, and he wrote:

"--is to pass free in the province, and from it, with all his company. "

"No, no, no! I will never write that!"

Without an instant's hesitation, I drew back my sword as if to add weightto an intended thrust. He gasped, and then finished the pass, signed it, and attached the seal. 

"Be assured, " I said, as I took up the last order, "these will be usedbefore you shall have time to countermand them. " He gritted his teeth atthis. "I thank you heartily, monsieur, and shall ask you to do no morewriting. But one favor will I claim, --the loan of a few gold pieces forM. De Varion. Come, monsieur, your purse has ever been well fed!"

With a look of inward groaning, he negligently handed me some pieces, notcounting them. 

"_Parbleu!_" he said. "You will ask me for my château next. "

"All in good time. It is a good jest, monsieur, that while you visit meat Maury by proxy, I return the visit at Clochonne in person and findyour château unguarded. To complete the jest, I need only takepossession. But I am for elsewhere. Frojac, come here. "

While Frojac approached, I held my sword ready for any movement onthe part of my unhappy adversary, for I saw him cast a furtive lookat the tray on the other table, and I read on his face the birth ofsome new design. 

Rapidly I gave Frojac my commands, with the gold and the two ordersfirst written. 

"Take this order immediately, with my horse and your own, to the châteauof Fleurier. Secure M. De Varion's release, and fly with him at once fromthe province, leaving by the western border, so that you cannot possiblybe forestalled by any troops or counter-orders that this gentleman maysend from here. Make your way speedily to Guienne. "

"And in Guienne, monsieur?"

"You will doubtless find me at the camp of Henri of Navarre. As soon asyou see M. De Varion, assure him of the safety of his daughter. And nowto horse!"

"I am already on my way, monsieur!" And the good fellow ran from thechamber and down the stairs. In a few moments I heard the horsesclattering out of the courtyard and over the bridge. Pleased at his zealand swiftness, I stepped to the window to wave him a godspeed. I thusturned my back towards La Chatre. 

Frojac saw me and waved in response, as he dashed down the moonlit waytowards the road to Fleurier. 

I heard a stealthy noise behind me, and, turning, saw what made mefiercely repent my momentary forgetfulness and my reliance on thegovernor's lameness. The sight revealed plainly enough what new idea hadcome into La Chatre's mind, --simply that, if he should give the signalfor mademoiselle's death, I would probably not stay to attack him, butwould instantly rush into the next chamber in the hope of saving her. Hecould then fasten the door, and so hold me prisoner in that chamber untilthe return of his troops. Well for us that he had not thought of thisbefore the arrival of Frojac!

He was already near the table on which was the tray, when I turned andsaw him. He raised his stick to strike the tray. I rushed after him. 

He brought down his stick. The tray sounded, loud and bell-like. He heardme coming, and raised his stick again. The second clang would be thedeath-knell of my beloved!

But my sword was in time, my arm served. The blade met the descendingstick and knocked it from the governor's grasp. The same rush that tookme between La Chatre and the table carried me across the chamber to aspot at one side of the door which Montignac at that moment threw open. 

"You struck once, did you not, monsieur?" said Montignac, not seeing me, for he naturally looked towards the centre of the chamber. 

He held mademoiselle's wrist in his left hand, his dagger in his right. Iwas at his right side. I was too near him to use my sword with effect, soI contented myself with stepping quickly behind him and bringing my fistdown on his left arm above the elbow. This unexpected blow made himinvoluntarily release mademoiselle's wrist, and informed him of mywhereabouts. The impulse of self-preservation caused him to rush forwardand turn. I then stepped in front of mademoiselle and faced him. Allthis, from my turning from the window, was done in a moment. 

"And now, M. De la Chatre, " said I, "you may strike the bowl as often asyou please. "

"M. De la Chatre, " said Montignac, in a quick, resolute voice, "give meleave to finish this!"

"As you will, Montignac!" replied the governor, moving towards thewindow. His movement betrayed his thought. If his troops should return inthe next few minutes, I would be too busy with Montignac to attackhimself. There were two hopes for him. One was that, by some miracle, Montignac might kill or wound me. The other was that the troops mightreturn before I should have finished with Montignac. La Chatre haddoubtless inferred that I had brought with me none of my men but Frojac;therefore I alone was to be feared. 

Montignac, keeping his eyes fixed on me, transferred his dagger to hisleft hand, and drew his sword with his right. I, with my sword already inmy right hand, drew my dagger with my left. 

"Monsieur, " said I to Montignac, "I see with pleasure that you are nota coward. "

"You shall see what you shall see, monsieur!" he answered, in the voiceof a man who fears nothing and never loses his wits. 

It was, indeed, a wonder that this man of thought could become soadmirable a man of action. There was nothing fragile in this palestudent. His eyes took on the hardness of steel. Never did moreself-reliant and resolute an antagonist meet me. The hate that wasmanifest in his countenance did not rob him of self-possession. It onlystrengthened and steadied him. At first I thought him foolhardy to faceso boldly an antagonist who wore a breastplate, but later I found that, beneath his jerkin, he was similarly protected. I suppose that he hadintended to accompany the troops to Maury, had so prepared himself forbattle, and had not found opportunity, after the change of intention, todivest himself. 

Conscious of mademoiselle's presence behind me, I stood for a momentawaiting the secretary's attack. In that moment did I hear, or but seemto hear, the sound of many horses' footfalls on the distant road? I didnot wait to assure myself. Knowing that, if the governor's troops hadindeed found Maury abandoned, and had returned, quick work wasnecessary, I attacked at the same instant as my adversary did. As Iwould no more than disable an antagonist less protected than myself, Imade to touch him lightly in his right side; but my point, tearing awaya part of his jerkin, gave the sound and feel of metal, and thus Ilearned that he too wore body armor. I was pleased at this; for now wewere less unequal than I had thought, and I might use full force. He hadtried to turn with his dagger this my first thrust, but was not quickenough, whereas my own dagger caught neatly the sword-thrust that hemade simultaneously with mine. 

"Oh, M. De Launay!" cried mademoiselle, behind me, in a voice of terror, at the first swift clash of our weapons. 

"Fear not for me, mademoiselle!" I cried, catching Montignac's bladeagain with my dagger, and giving a thrust which he avoided byleaping backward. 

"Good, Montignac!" cried La Chatre, looking on from the window. "Hecannot reach you! If you cannot kill him, you may keep him engaged tillthe troops come back!"

"I shall kill him!" was Montignac's reply, while he faced me with setteeth and relentless eyes. 

"Listen, monsieur!" cried mademoiselle. "If you die, I shall die withyou!" And she ran from behind me to the centre of the chamber, where Icould see her. 

"And if I live?" I shouted, narrowly stopping a terrible thrust, andstepping back between the table and the bed. 

"If we live, I am yours forever! Ernanton, I love you!"

At last she had confessed it with her lips! For the first time, she hadcalled me by my Christian name! My head swam with joy. 

"You kill me with happiness, Julie!" I cried, overturning the tabletowards Montignac to gain a moment's breath. 

"I shall kill you with my sword!" Montignac hurled the words throughclenched teeth. "For, by God, you shall have no happiness with her!"

His white face had an expression of demoniac hate, yet his thrusts becamethe more adroit and swift, his guard the more impenetrable and firm. Hisbody was as sinuous as a wild beast's, his eye as steady. The longer hefought, the more formidable he became as an adversary. He was worth ascore of Vicomtes de Berquin. 

"Ernanton, " cried mademoiselle, "you know all my treachery!"

"I know that you would have saved your father, " I answered, leapingbackward upon the bed, to avoid the secretary's impetuous rush; "andthat I have saved him, and that, God willing, we shall soon meet himin Guienne!"

"If he meets you, it will be in hell!" With this, Montignac jumped uponthe bed after me, and there was some close dagger play while I turned toback out between the posts at the foot. 

At this moment La Chatre gave a loud, jubilant cry, and mademoiselle, looking out of the window, uttered a scream of consternation. 

"The troops at last!" shouted La Chatre. "Hold out but another minute, Montignac!"

So then I had heard aright. Alas, I thought, that the river road to Mauryshould be so much shorter than the forest road; alas, that the governor'stroops should have had time to return ere Blaise had reached the junctionof the roads!

"My God, the soldiers have us in a trap!" cried mademoiselle, while Icaught Montignac's dagger-point with a bed-curtain, and stepped backwardfrom the bed to the floor. 

"And mademoiselle shall be mine!"

As he uttered these words with a fiendish kind of elation, Montignacleaped from the bed after me, releasing his dagger by pulling the curtainfrom its fastening, while at the same time his sword-point, directed atmy neck, rang on my breast-plate. 

"You shall not live to see the end of this, monsieur!" I replied, infuriated at his premature glee. 

And, having given ground a little, I made so quick an onslaught that, insaving himself, he fell back against a chair, which overturned and tookhim to the floor with it. 

"Help, monsieur!" he cried to La Chatre, raising his dagger just in timeto ward off my sword. 

The governor now perceived the sword that stood by the fireplace, took itup, and thrust at me. Mademoiselle, who, in her distress at the sight ofthe troops, had run to the _prie-dieu_ and fallen on her knees, saw LaChatre's movement, and, rushing forward, caught the sword with both handsas he thrust. I expected to see her fingers torn by the blade, but ithappened that the sword was still in its sheath, a fact which in ourexcitement none of us had observed; so that when La Chatre tried to pullthe weapon from her grasp he merely drew it from the sheath, whichremained in her hands. By this time I was ready for the governor. 

"Come on!" I cried. "It is a better match, two against me!"

And I sent La Chatre's sword flying from his hand, just in time to guardagainst a dagger stroke from Montignac, who had now risen. Julie snatchedup the sword and held the governor at bay with it. 

For some moments the distant clatter of galloping horses had been rapidlyincreasing. 

"Quick!" shouted La Chatre through the window to the approaching troops. "To the rescue!"

And he stood wildly beckoning them on, but keeping his head turnedtowards Montignac and me, who both fought with the greatest fury. For Isaw that I had found at last an antagonist requiring all my strength andskill, one with whom the outcome was not at all certain. 

The tumult of hoofs grew louder and nearer. 

"Ernanton, fly while we can! The soldiers are coming!"

Mademoiselle threw La Chatre's sword to a far corner, ran to the doorleading from the stairway landing, closed it, and pushed home the bolt. 

"They are at the gate! They are entering!" cried the governor, joyously. "Another minute, Montignac!"

There was the rushing clank of hoofs on the drawbridge, then from thecourtyard rose a confused turbulence of horses, men, and arms. 

Again my weapons clashed with Montignac's. Julie looked swiftly around. Her eye alighted on the dagger that lay on one of the chairs. She drew itfrom its sheath. 

"If we die, it is together!" she cried, holding it aloft. 

There came a deadened, thumping sound, growing swiftly to great volume. It was that of men rushing up the stairs. 

"To the rescue!" cried La Chatre. "But one more parry, Montignac!"

There was now a thunder of tramping in the hall outside the door. 

"Ay, one more--the last!" It was I who spoke, and the speech was truth. Ileaped upon my enemy, between his dagger and his sword, and buried mydagger in his neck. When I drew it out, he whirled around, clutchedwildly at the air, caught the curtain at the window, and fell, with thequick, sharp cry:

"God have mercy on me!"

"Amen to that!" said I, wiping the blood from my dagger. 

A terrible pounding shook the door, and from without came cries of"Open. " Mademoiselle ran to my side, her dagger ready for her breast. Iput my left arm around her. 

"And now, God have mercy on _you_!" shouted La Chatre, triumphantly; forthe door flew from its place, and armed men surged into the chamber, crowding the open doorway. 

"Are we in time, my captain?" roared their leader, looking from thegovernor to me. 

And La Chatre tottered back to the fireplace, dumbfounded, for the leaderwas Blaise and the men were my own. 

Julie gave a glad little cry, and, dropping her dagger, sank to her kneesexhausted. 

"Good-night, monsieur!" I said to La Chatre. "We thank you for yourhospitality!"

CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE RIDE TOWARDS GUIENNE

I ordered the men to return to the courtyard, and, supporting Julie, Ifollowed them from the chamber, leaving M. De la Chatre alone with hischagrin and the dead body of his secretary. 

In the hall outside the governor's chamber, we found Jeannotte and Hugo, for Blaise had brought them with him, believing that we would not returnto Maury. The gypsies had accompanied him as far as Godeau's inn, wherewe had first met them. He had even brought as much baggage and provisionsas could be hastily packed on the horses behind the men. The only humanbeings left by him at Maury were the three rascals who had soblunderingly served De Berquin, but he had considerately unlocked thedoor of their cell before his departure. 

I begged mademoiselle to rest a while in one of the chambers contiguousto the hall, and, when she and Jeannotte had left us, I told Blaise asmuch of the truth as it needed to show mademoiselle as she was. I thenexplained why he had found the draw-bridge down, the gate open, thechâteau undefended. He grinned at the trick that fate had played on ourenemies, but looked rather downcast at the lost opportunity of meetingthem at Maury. 

"But, " said he, looking cheerful again, "they will come back tothe château and find us here, and we may yet have some lively workwith them. "

"Perchance, " I said, "for I fear that mademoiselle cannot endure anotherride to-night. If she could, I would start immediately for Guienne. Ourwork in Berry is finished. "

"Then you shall start immediately, " said a gentle but resolute voicebehind me. Mademoiselle, after a few minutes' repose, had risen and cometo demand that no consideration for her comfort should further imperilour safety. 

"But--" I started to object. 

"Better another ride, " she said, with a smile, "than another risking ofyour life. I swear that I will not rest till you are out of danger. It isnot I who most need rest. "

She looked, indeed, fresh and vigorous, as one will, despite bodilyfatigue, when one has cast off a heavy burden and found promise of newhappiness. When a whole lifetime of joy was to be won, it was no time totarry for the sake of weary limbs. 

So it was decided that we should start at once southward, not restinguntil we should be half-way across the mountains. As for my belatedforagers, we should have to let them take their chances of rejoiningus; and some weeks later they did indeed arrive at the camp inGuienne with rich spoil, having found Maury given over to the owlsand bats as of yore. 

The men cheered for joy at the announcement that we were at last torejoin our Henri's flying camp. In the guard-house we found Pierre andthe other guardsman, both securely bound by Frojac. We released Pierreand sent him to his mistress. I put Blaise at the head of my company, andwe set forth, half of the troop going first, then mademoiselle and I, then Jeannotte and the two boys, and lastly the other half of my force. Looking back, I saw the lighted window of the governor's chamber, thatwindow whence I had looked out at Frojac and whence La Chatre hadmistakenly taken my men for his own. Doubtless he still sat in hischamber, dazed and incapable of action, for after leaving him alone thereI neither saw nor heard him. Nor did we see any more troops or anyservants about the château. Some hasty scampering in distant apartments, after the entrance of my men, was the only indication of inhabitants thatwe had received. If there were other troops in the château than the sixwe had disposed of, they followed the example of the servants and layclose. As for the soldiers at the town guard-house, they must have heardmy men ride to the château, but they had wisely refrained from appearingbefore a force greater than their own. I shall never cease to marvel thatthe very night that took me and my men to Clochonne by one road took LaChatre's guards and the town garrison to Maury by another. 

When I sent Blaise to the head of the troops, I told him to set a goodpace, for the governor's men had indeed had time sufficient to have goneto Maury, discovered their mistake, and come back, so much shorter is theriver road than the forest way. There was a likelihood, therefore, oftheir reaching the point of junction, on their return, at any minute, andI wished to be past that point and well up the mountain-side before theyshould do so. 

Julie rode very close to me, and as soon as we were out of the gate shebegan in a low tone to speak of a thing that required no more explanationto me; yet I let her speak on, for the relief of her heart. So, in a fewminutes, as we rode with the soldiers in the night, she eased her mindforever of the matter. 

"When I received word in Bourges, " she said, "that my father was inprison, I thought that I would die of grief and horror. They would notlet me see him, told me that his crime of harboring a Huguenot was agrave one, that he had violated the King's edict, and might be chargedeven with treason. The thought of how he must suffer in a dungeon wasmore than I could endure. Only M. De la Chatre, they told me, could orderhis release. La Chatre had left Fleurier to go northward. I started afterhim, not waiting even to refresh my horses. When we reached the inn atthe end of the town, I had become sufficiently calm to listen to Hugo'sadvice that it would be best to bait the horses before going further. Ibegan to perceive, too, that myself and Jeannotte needed some nourishmentin order to be able to go on a journey. Thus it happened that I stoppedat the inn where La Chatre himself was. He had not gone immediately northfrom Fleurier, but had been visiting an estate in the vicinity, and itwas on regaining the main road that he had tarried at the inn, withoutreentering the town. I had never seen him, but the girl at the inn toldme who he was. 

"When I fell on my knees, and told him how incapable my father was ofharm or disloyalty, he at first showed annoyance, and said that mypleading would be useless. My father must be treated as an example, hesaid. To succor traitors was treason, to shield heretics was heresy, andthere was no doubt that the judges would condemn him to death, to furnishothers a lesson. He was then going to leave me, but his secretary cameforward and said that I had come at an opportune moment, an instrumentsent by Heaven. Was I not, he asked the governor, some one who had muchto gain or much to lose? Then La Chatre became joyful, and said thatthere was a way--one only--by which I might free my father. Eagerly Ibegged to know that way, but with horror I refused it when I learned thatit was to--to hunt down a certain Huguenot captain, to make him trust me, and to betray him. For a time I would not hear his persuasions. Then heswore that, if I did not undertake this detestable mission, my fathershould surely die; and he told me that you were a deserter, a traitor, anenemy to the church and to the King, I had heard your name but once ortwice, and I remembered it only as one who had worked with daring andsecrecy in the interests of the Huguenots. He described my fathertortured and killed, his body hanging at the gates of Fleurier, blown bythe wind, and attacked by the birds. Oh, it was terrible! All this couldbe avoided, my father's liberty regained, by my merely serving the Kingand the church. He gave his word that, if I betrayed you, my fathershould be released without even a trial. You can understand, can you not?You were then a stranger to me, and my father the most gentle and kindlyof men, the most tender and devoted of fathers. "

"I understood already when I stood behind the curtain, sweetheart, " said I. 

"When you came, " she went on, "and asked whither I was bound, I made myfirst attempt at lying. I wonder that you did not perceive myembarrassment and shame when I said that the governor had threatened toimprison me if I did not leave the province. It was the best pretext Icould give for leaving Fleurier while my father remained there in prison, though they would not let me see him. It occurred to me that you mustthink me a heartless daughter to go so far from him, even if it were, indeed, to save my life. "

"I thought only that you were an unhappy child, of whose inexperience andfears the governor had availed himself; and that, after all, was thetruth. From the first moment when I knew that you were the daughter of M. De Varion, I was resolved to attempt his rescue; but I kept my intentionfrom you, lest I might fail. "

"Oh, to think that all the while I was planning your betrayal, you wereintending to save my father! Oh, the deception of which I was guilty!What constant torture, what continual shame I felt! Often I thought I hadbetrayed myself. Did you not observe my agitation when you firstmentioned the name of La Tournoire, and said that you would take me tohim. I wonder that you did not hear my heart say, 'That is the man I amto betray!' And how bitter, yet sweet, it was to hear you commiserate mydejection, which was due in part to the shame of the treacherous task Ihad undertaken. It seemed to me that you ought to guess its cause, yetyou attributed it all to other sources. What a weight was on me while werode towards Clochonne, the knowledge that I was to betray the man whom Ithen thought your friend, --the friend of the gentleman who protected meand was so solicitous for my happiness! How glad I was when you told methe man was no great friend of yours, that you would sacrifice him forthe sake of the woman you loved! After all, I thought you might notloathe me when you should learn that I had betrayed him! Yet, to performmy task in your presence, to make him love me--for I was to do that, ifneeds be and it could be done--while you were with me, seemed impossible. This was the barrier between us, the fact that I had engaged to betrayyour friend, and you can understand now why I begged that you would leaveme. How could I play the Delilah in your sight? It had been hard enoughto question you about La Tournoire's hiding-place. And when I learnedthat you were La Tournoire himself, whom I had already half betrayed insending Pierre to La Chatre with an account of your hiding-place; thatyou whom I already loved--why should I not confess it?--were the manwhom I was to pretend to love; that you who already loved me were the manwhom I was to betray by making him love me, --oh, what a moment that was, a moment when all hope died and despair overwhelmed me! Had I known fromthe first that you were he, I might have guarded against loving you--"

"And well it is, " said I, interrupting, "that for a jest and a surprise Ihad kept that knowledge from you! Else you might indeed have--"

"Oh, do not think of it!" And she shuddered. "But you are right. Lovealone has saved us. But at first even the knowledge that you were LaTournoire, and that none the less I loved you, did not make me turn back. If my duty to my father had before required that I should sacrifice you, did my duty not still require it? Did it make any change in my duty thatI loved you? What right had I, when devoted to a task like mine, to loveany one? If I had violated my duty by loving you, ought I not todisregard my love, stifle it, act as if it did not exist? I had to forgetthat I was a woman who loved, remember only that I was a daughter. Myfilial duty was no less, my proper choice between my father and anotherwas not altered by my having fallen in love. I must carry my horribletask to the end. What a night of struggle was that at the inn, after Ihad learned that the appointed victim was you! And now it was necessarythat you should not leave me; therefore I spoke no more of the barrierbetween us. I fortified myself to hide my feelings and maintain mypretence. Surely you noticed the change in me, the forced composure andcheerfulness. How I tried to harden myself!

"And after that the words of love you so often spoke to me, what blissand what anguish they caused me! I was to have made you love me, but youloved me already. I ought to have rejoiced at this, for the success thatit promised my purpose. Yet, it was on that account that I shuddered atit; and if it did give me moments of joy it was because it was pleasantto have your love. My heart rose at the thought that I was loved by you, and fell at the thought that your love was to cause your death. Often, for your own sake, I wished that I might fail, that you would not loveme; yet for my father's sake I had to wish that I should succeed, had tobe glad that you loved me. To make you fall the more easily into thehands of your enemies, I had to show love for you. How easy it was toshow what I felt; yet what anguish I underwent in showing it, when bydoing so I led you to death! The more I appeared to love you, the moretruly I disclosed my heart, yet the greater I felt was my treason! I donot think any woman's heart was ever so torn by opposing motives!"

"My beloved, all that is past forever!"

"In my dreams at Maury, we would be strolling together among roses, undercloudless skies, nothing to darken my joy. Then I would see you wounded, the soldiers of the governor gathered around you and laughing at myhorror and grief. I would awake and vow not to betray you, and then Iwould see my father's face, pale and haggard, and my dead mother's wetwith tears for his misery and supplicating me to save him!"

"My poor Julie!"

"And to-night, --yes, it was only to-night, it seems so long ago, --whenyou held my hand on the dial, and plighted fidelity, what happiness Ishould have had then, but for the knowledge of my horrible task, of thedeath that awaited you, of the treason I was so soon to commit! For I andJeannotte had already arranged it, Hugo was soon to be sent to La Chatre. And then came De Berquin. For telling only the truth of me, you killedhim as a traducer. So much faith you had in me, who deserved so little! Icould endure it no longer! Never would I look on your face again withthat weight of shame on me. God must send other means of saving myfather. They demanded too much of me. I would, as far as I could, makemyself worthy of your faith, though I never saw you again. Yet I couldnot betray La Chatre. He had entrusted me with his design, and, detestable as it was, I could not play him false in it. But I could atleast resign the mission. And I went, to undo the compact and claim backmy honor! I little guessed that he would make use, without my knowledge, of the information I had sent him of your hiding-place. It seemed that, even though La Chatre did know your hiding-place, God would not let yoube taken through me if I refused to be your betrayer. "

"And so it has turned out, " I said, blithely, "and now I no longer regrethaving kept from you my intention of attempting your father's release. For had I told you of it, and events taken another course, that attemptmight have failed, and it would perhaps have cost many lives, whereas theorder that I got from La Chatre this night is both sure and inexpensive. But for matters having gone as they have, I should not have been enabledto get that order. Ha! What is this!"

For Blaise had suddenly called a halt, and was riding back to me as iffor orders. 

"Look, monsieur!" and he pointed to where the rive, road appeared frombehind a little spur at the base of the mountains. A body of horsemen wascoming into view. At one glance I recognized the foremost riders asbelonging to the troop I had seen four hours before. 

"The devil!" said I. "La Chatre's soldiers coming back from Maury!"

We had ridden down the descent leading from the château along the townwall, and had left the town some distance behind, so that the mountainsnow loomed large before us. But we had not yet passed the place where theroads converged. 

"If we can only get into the mountain road before they reach this one, weshall not meet them, " I went on. "Forward, men!"

"But, " said Blaise, astonished and frowning, but riding on besideme, "they will reach this road before we pass the junction. Do youwish them to take us in the flank? See, they have seen us and arepressing forward!"

"If we reach our road in time, we shall lead them a chase. Go to the headand set the pace at a gallop!"

"And have them overtake us and fall on our rear?"

"You mutinous rascal, don't you see that they are three times our number?We stand better chance in flight than in fight! But, no, you are right!They are too near the junction. We must face them. I shall go to thehead. Julie, my betrothed, I must leave you for a time. Roquelin andSabray shall fall behind with you, Jeannotte, and the two boys. "

"I shall not leave your side!" she said, resolutely. 

"Oh, mademoiselle!" cried Jeannotte, in a great fright. 

"You may fall back, if you like, " said Julie to her. "I shall not. "

All this time we were going forward and the governor's troops wererapidly nearing the junction. We could now plainly hear the noise theymade, which, because of that made by ourselves, we had not heard sooner. They were looking at us with curiosity, and were evidently determined tointercept us. 

"Julie, consider! There may be great danger. "

"If you are endangered, why should not I be? This is not the night, Ernanton, on which you should ask me to leave you. "

"Then I shall at least remain here, " said I. "Go to the head, Blaise. Butif there is a challenge, I shall answer it. Perhaps they will not know usand we can make them think we are friends. "

He rode forward with sparkling eyes, although not before casting oneglance of solicitude at Jeannotte, who did not leave her mistress. 

The men eagerly looked to their arms as they rode, and they exchangedconjectures in low, quick tones, casting many a curious look at theapproaching force. Julie and I kept silence, I wondering what would bethe outcome of this encounter. 

Suddenly, when the head of their long, somewhat straggling line had justreached the junction, and Blaise was but a short distance from it, camefrom their leader--La Chatre's equerry, I think--the order to halt, andthen the clear, sharp cry:

"Who goes there?"

Before I could answer, a familiar voice near their leader cried out:

"It is his company, --La Tournoire's, --I swear it! I know the big fellowat the head. "

The voice was that of the foppish, cowardly rascal of De Berquin's band. I now saw that the three fellows left by Blaise at Maury were held asprisoners by the governor's troops. Poor Jacques, doubtless, thought toget his freedom or some reward for crying out our identity. 

"I shall wring your neck yet, lap-dog!" roared Blaise. 

All chance of passing under false colors was now gone. A battle withthrice our force seemed imminent. What would befall Julie if they shouldbe too much for us? The thought made me sick with horror. At that instantI remembered something. 

"Halt!" I cried to the men. "I shall return in a moment, sweetheart. Monsieur, the captain, " and I rode forward towards the leader of thegovernor's troops, "your informant speaks truly. Permit me to introducemyself. I am the Sieur de la Tournoire, the person named in that order. "With which I politely handed him the pass that I had forced from LaChatre, which I had for a time forgotten. 

It was about three hours after midnight, and the moon was not yet verylow. The captain, taken by surprise in several respects, mechanicallygrasped the document and read it. 

"It is a--a pass, " he said, presently, staring at it and at me in abewildered manner. 

"As you see, for myself and all my company, " said I; "signed by M. Dela Chatre. "

"Yes, it is his signature. "

"His seal, also, you will observe. "

"I do. Yet, it is strange. Certain orders that I have received, --in fact, orders to which I have just been attending, --make this very surprising. Icannot understand--"

"It is very simple. While you were attending to your orders, I was makinga treaty with M. De la Chatre. In accordance with it, he wrote the pass. He will, doubtless, relate the purport of our interview as soon as youreturn to the château. I know that he is impatient for your coming. Therefore, since you have seen the pass, I shall not detain you longer. "

"But--I do not know--it is, indeed, the writing of M. De la Chatre--itseems quite right, yet monsieur, since all is right, you will notobject to returning with me to the château that M. De la Chatre mayverify his pass?"

"Since all is right, there is no use in my doing so; and it would be mostannoying to M. De la Chatre to be asked to verify his own writing, especially as the very object of this pass was to avoid my being delayedon my march this night. "

The captain, a young and handsome gentleman, with a frank look and acourteous manner, hesitated. 

"Monsieur will understand, " I went on, "that every minute we stand hereopposes the purpose for which that pass was given. "

"I begin to see, " he said, with a look of pleasurable discovery. "Youhave changed sides, monsieur? You have repented of your errors and haveput your great skill and courage at the service of M. De la Chatre?"

"It is for M. De la Chatre to say what passed between us this evening, "said I, with a discreet air. "Then _an revoir_, captain! I trust we shallmeet again. "

And I took back the pass, and ordered my men forward, as if the youngcaptain had already given me permission to go on. Then I saluted him, andreturned to Julie. The captain gazed at us in a kind of abstraction as wepassed. His men were as dumbfounded as my own. His foremost horsemen hadheard the short conversation concerning the pass, and were, doubtless, asmuch at a loss as their leader was. When we were well in the mountainroad, I heard him give the order to march, and, looking back, I saw themturn wearily up the road to the château. We continued to put distancebetween ourselves and Clochonne. 

On the northern slope of the mountains, we made but one stop. That was atGodeau's, where we had a short rest and some wine. I gave the goodMarianne a last gold piece, received her Godspeed, and took up our march, this time ignoring the forest path to Maury, following the old roadsouthward instead. It would be time to set up our camp when we should beout of the province of Berry. 

It was while we were yet ascending the northern slope of the mountains, and the moon still shone now and then from the west through the trees, that we talked, Julie and I, of the time that lay before us. It matterednot to me under which form our marriage should be. One creed was to meonly a little the better of the two, in that it involved less ofsubjection, but if the outward profession of the other would facilitateour union, I would make that profession, reserving always my sword and mytrue sympathies for the side that my fathers had taken. But when Iproposed this, Julie said that I ought not even to assume the appearanceof having changed my colors, and that it was for her, the woman, toadopt mine, therefore she would abjure and we should be married asProtestants. She could answer for the consent of her father, who couldnot refuse his preserver and hers. It pleased me that she made no mentionof her lack of dowry, for their little estate would certainly beconfiscated after her father's flight. Judging my love by her own, sheknew that I valued herself alone above all the fortunes in the world. Wewould, then, be united as soon as her father, guided by Frojac, shouldjoin us in Guienne. She and her father should then go to Nerac, there toawait my return from the war that was now imminent; for I was to continueadvancing my fortunes by following those of our Henri on the field. Someday our leader would overcome his enemies and mount the throne that thefated Henri III. --ailing survivor of three short-lived brothers--wouldsoon leave vacant. Then our King would restore us our estates, I shouldrebuild La Tournoire, and there we should pass our days in the peace thatour Henri's accession would bring his kingdom. Blaise should marryJeannotte and be our steward. 

So we gave word to our intentions and hopes, those that I have herewritten and many others. Some have been realized, and some have not, butall that I have here written have been. 

Once, years after that night, having gone up to Paris to give our twoeldest children a glimpse of the court, we were walking through thegallery built by our great Henri IV. , to connect the Louvre with theTuileries, when my son asked me who was the painted fat old lady that wasstaring so hard at him as if she had seen him before. In turn I asked theAbbé Brantome, who happened to be passing. 

"It is the Marquise de Pirillaume, " he said. "She was a gallant lady inthe reign of Henri III. She was Mlle. D'Arency and very beautiful. "

I turned my eyes from her to Julie at my side, --to Julie, as fair andslender and beautiful still as on that night when we rode together withmy soldiers towards Guienne, in the moonlight. 

THE END.