CHAPTER XXVI. MEDITATIONS.
Either the small respect I had paid M. de Bruhl, or the words I had letfall respecting the possible disappearance of M. Villequier, had had soadmirable an effect on the Provost-Marshal's mind that from themoment of leaving my lodgings he treated me with the utmost civility;permitting me even to retain my sword, and assigning me a sleeping-placefor the night in his own apartments at the gate-house.
Late as it was, I could not allow so much politeness to passunacknowledged. I begged leave, therefore, to distribute a smallgratuity among his attendants, and requested him to do me the honour ofdrinking a bottle of wine with me. This being speedily procured, at suchan expense as is usual in these places, where prisoners pay, accordingas they are rich or poor, in purse or person, kept us sitting for anhour, and finally sent us to our pallets perfectly satisfied with oneanother.
The events of the day, however, and particularly one matter, on which Ihave not dwelt at length, proved as effectual to prevent my sleeping asif I had been placed in the dampest cell below the castle. So much hadbeen crowded into a time so short that it seemed as if I had had untilnow no opportunity of considering whither I was being hurried, or whatfortune awaited me at the end of this turmoil. From the firstappearance of M. d'Agen in the morning, with the startling news that theProvost-Marshal was seeking me, to my final surrender and encounter withBruhl on the stairs, the chain of events had run out so swiftly that Ihad scarcely had time at any particular period to consider how I stood,or the full import of the latest check or victory. Now that I hadleisure I lived the day over again, and, recalling its dangers anddisappointments, felt thankful that all had ended so fairly.
I had the most perfect confidence in Maignan, and did not doubt thatBruhl would soon weary, if he had not already wearied, of a profitlesssiege. In an hour at most--and it was not yet midnight--the king wouldbe free to go home; and with that would end, as far as he was concerned,the mission with which M. de Rosny had honoured me. The task ofcommunicating his Majesty's decision to the King of Navarre woulddoubtless be entrusted to M. de Rambouillet, or some person of similarposition and influence; and in the same hands would rest the honour andresponsibility of the treaty which, as we all know now, gave after abrief interval and some bloodshed, and one great providence, a lastingpeace to France. But it must ever be--and I recognised this thatnight with a bounding heart, which told of some store of youth yetunexhausted--a matter of lasting pride to me that I, whose career butnow seemed closed in failure, had proved the means of conferring soespecial a benefit on my country and religion.
Remembering, however, the King of Navarre's warning that I must not lookto him for reward, I felt greatly doubtful in what direction the scenewould next open to me; my main dependence being upon M. de Rosny'spromise that he would make my fortune his own care. Tired of the Courtat Blois, and the atmosphere of intrigue and treachery which pervadedit, and with which I hoped I had now done, I was still at a loss tosee how I could recross the Loire in face of the Vicomte de Turenne'senmity. I might have troubled myself much more with speculating uponthis point had I not found--in close connection with it--other and moreengrossing food for thought in the capricious behaviour of Mademoisellede la Vire.
To that behaviour it seemed to me that I now held the clue. I suspectedwith as much surprise as pleasure that only one construction could beplaced upon it--a construction which had strongly occurred to me oncatching sight of her face when she intervened between me and the king.
Tracing the matter back to the moment of our meeting in the antechamberat St. Jean d'Angely, I remembered the jest which Mathurine had utteredat our joint expense. Doubtless it had dwelt in mademoiselle's mind,and exciting her animosity against me had prepared her to treat me withcontumely when, contrary to all probability, we met again, and she foundherself placed in a manner in my hands. It had inspired her harsh wordsand harsher looks on our journey northwards, and contributed with hernative pride to the low opinion I had formed of her when I contrastedher with my honoured mother.
But I began to think it possible that the jest had worked in anotherway as well, by keeping me before her mind and impressing upon her theidea--after my re-appearance at Chize more particularly--that our fateswere in some way linked. Assuming this, it was not hard to understandher manner at Rosny when, apprised that I was no impostor, andregretting her former treatment of me, she still recoiled from thefeelings which she began to recognise in her own breast. From that time,and with this clue, I had no difficulty in tracing her motives, alwayssupposing that this suspicion, upon which I dwelt with feelings ofwonder and delight, were well founded.
Middle-aged and grizzled, with the best of my life behind me I hadnever dared to think of her in this way before. Poor and comparativelyobscure, I had never raised my eyes to the wide possessions said to behers. Even now I felt myself dazzled and bewildered by the prospect sosuddenly unveiled. I could scarcely, without vertigo, recall her as Ihad last seen her, with her hand wounded in my defence; nor, withoutemotions painful in their intensity, fancy myself restored to the youthof which I had taken leave, and to the rosy hopes and plannings whichvisit most men once only, and then in early years. Hitherto I had deemedsuch things the lot of others.
Daylight found me--and no wonder--still diverting myself with thesecharming speculations; which had for me, be it remembered, all the forceof novelty. The sun chanced to rise that morning in a clear sky, andbrilliantly for the time of year; and words fail me when I lookback, and try to describe how delicately this single fact enhancedmy pleasure! I sunned myself in the beams, which penetrated my barredwindow; and tasting the early freshness with a keen and insatiableappetite, I experienced to the full that peculiar aspiration aftergoodness which Providence allows such moments to awaken in us in youth;but rarely when time and the camp have blunted the sensibilities.
I had not yet arrived at the stage at which difficulties have to bereckoned up, and the chief drawback to the tumult of joy I felt tookthe shape of regret that my mother no longer lived to feel the emotionsproper to the time, and to share in the prosperity which she had sooften and so fondly imagined. Nevertheless, I felt myself drawn closerto her. I recalled with the most tender feelings, and at greater leisurethan had before been the case, her last days and words, and particularlythe appeal she had uttered on mademoiselle's behalf. And I vowed, ifit were possible, to pay a visit to her grave before leaving theneighbourhood, that I might there devote a few moments to the thought ofthe affection which had consecrated all women in my eyes.
I was presently interrupted in these reflections by a circumstance whichproved in the end diverting enough, though far from reassuring at thefirst blush. It began in a dismal rattling of chains in the passagebelow and on the stairs outside my room; which were paved, like therest of the building, with stone. I waited with impatience and someuneasiness to see what would come of this; and my surprise may beimagined when, the door being unlocked, gave entrance to a man in whom Irecognised on the instant deaf Mathew--the villain whom I had last seenwith Fresnoy in the house in the Rue Valois. Amazed at seeing himhere, I sprang to my feet in fear of some treachery, and for a momentapprehended that the Provost-Marshal had basely given me over toBruhl's custody. But a second glance informing me that the man was inirons--hence the noise I had heard--I sat down again to see what wouldhappen.
It then appeared, that he merely brought me my breakfast, and wasa prisoner in less fortunate circumstances than myself; but as hepretended not to recognise me, and placed the things before me inobdurate silence, and I had no power to make him hear, I failed tolearn how he came to be in durance. The Provost-Marshal, however, camepresently to visit me, and brought me in token that the good-fellowshipof the evening still existed a pouch of the Queen's herb; which Iaccepted for politeness' sake rather than from any virtue I found in it.And from him I learned how the rascal came to be in his charge.
It appeared that Fresnoy, having no mind to be hampered with a woundedman, had deposited him on the night of
our MELEE at the door of ahospital attached to a religious house in that part of the town. Thefathers had opened to him, but before taking him in put, according totheir custom, certain questions. Matthew had been primed with the rightanswers to these questions, which were commonly a form; but, unhappilyfor him, the Superior by chance or mistake began with the wrong one.
'You are not a Huguenot, my son?' he said.
'In God's name, I am!' Matthew replied with simplicity, believing he wasasked if he was a Catholic.
'What?' the scandalised Prior ejaculated, crossing himself in doubt,'are you not a true son of the Church?'
'Never!' quoth our deaf friend--thinking all went well.
'A heretic!' cried the monk.
'Amen to that!' replied Matthew innocently; never doubting but that hewas asked the third question, which was, commonly, whether he neededaid.
Naturally after this there was a very pretty commotion, andMatthew, vainly protesting that he was deaf, was hurried off to theProvost-Marshal's custody. Asked how he communicated with him, theProvost answered that he could not, but that his little godchild, a girlonly eight years old, had taken a strange fancy to the rogue, and wasnever so happy as when talking to him by means of signs, of which shehad invented a great number. I thought this strange at the time, but Ihad proof before the morning was out that it was true enough, andthat the two were seldom apart, the little child governing this grimcut-throat with unquestioned authority.
After the Provost was gone I heard the man's fetters clanking again.This time he entered to remove my cup and plate, and surprised me byspeaking to me. Maintaining his former sullenness, and scarcely lookingat me, he said abruptly: 'You are going out again?'
I nodded assent.
'Do you remember a bald-faced bay horse that fell with you?' hemuttered, keeping his dogged glance on the floor.
I nodded again.
'I want to sell the horse,' he said. 'There is not such another inBlois, no, nor in Paris! Touch it on the near hip with the whip and itwill go down as if shot. At other times a child might ride it. It isin a stable, the third from the Three Pigeons, in the Ruelle Amancy.Fresnoy does not know where it is. He sent to ask yesterday, but I wouldnot tell him.'
Some spark of human feeling which appeared in his lowering, brutalvisage as he spoke of the horse led me to desire further information.Fortunately the little girl appeared at that moment at the door insearch of her play-fellow; and through her I learned that the man'smotive for seeking to sell the horse was fear lest the dealer in whosecharge it stood should dispose of it to repay himself for its keep, andhe, Matthew, lose it without return.
Still I did not understand why he applied to me, but I was well pleasedwhen I learned the truth. Base as the knave was, he had an affection forthe bay, which had been his only property for six years. Having thisin his mind, he had conceived the idea that I should treat it well, andshould not, because he was in prison and powerless, cheat him of theprice.
In the end I agreed to buy the horse for ten crowns, paying as well whatwas due at the stable. I had it in my head to do something also for theman, being moved to this partly by an idea that there was good in him,and partly by the confidence he had seen fit to place in me, whichseemed to deserve some return. But a noise below stairs diverted myattention. I heard myself named, and for the moment forgot the matter.