CHAPTER XXXII.
HOW CHICOT USED HIS SWORD.
Nicolas David, in recognizing him whom he knew to be his mortalenemy, could not repress a movement of terror, during which Gorenflotslipped a little to the side, crying out, "Help, friend! come tomy aid!"
"Ah, Monsieur David, it is you!" said Chicot; "I am delightedto meet you again!" Then, turning to Gorenflot, he said, "Mygood Gorenflot, your presence as monk was very necessary justnow, when we believed monsieur dying; but now that he is so well,it is with me he must deal; therefore, do me the favor to standsentinel on the threshold, and prevent any one from coming into interrupt our little conversation." Gorenflot, who asked nobetter than to go, was soon out of the room; but David, havingnow recovered from his surprise, and confident in his skill asa swordsman, stood waiting for Chicot, with his sword in hishand and a smile on his lips.
"Dress yourself, monsieur," said Chicot; "I do not wish to takeany advantage of you. Do you know what I have come to seek inthis room?"
"The rest of the blows which I have owed you on account of theDuc de Mayenne, since that day when you jumped so quickly outof the window."
"No, monsieur; I know the number, and will return them. Be easy.What I have come for is a certain genealogy which M. Pierre deGondy took to Avignon, without knowing what he carried, and,equally in ignorance, brought back to you just now."
David turned pale. "What genealogy?" he said.
"That of M. de Guise, who descends, as you know, in a direct linefrom Charlemagne."
"Ah, you are a spy! I thought you only a buffoon."
"Dear M. David, I will be both if you wish it: a spy to hang you,and a buffoon to laugh at it after."
"To hang me!"
"High and dry, monsieur; I hope you do not lay claim to be beheadedlike a gentleman."
"And how will you do it?"
"Oh, very easily; I will relate the truth, for I must tell you,dear M. David, that I assisted last month at the meeting heldin the convent of St. Genevieve."
"You!"
"Yes; I was in the confessional in front of yours, and it wasvery uncomfortable there, especially as I was obliged to waitto go out until all was finished. Therefore I heard all, sawthe coronation of M. d'Anjou, which was not very amusing; butthen the genealogy was delightful."
"Ah! you know about the genealogy?" cried David, biting his lipswith anger.
"Yes, and I found it very ingenious, especially that part aboutthe Salic law; only it is a misfortune to have so much intellect,one gets hung for it; therefore, feeling myself moved with tenderpity for so ingenious a man, I said to myself, 'Shall I let thisbrave M. David be hung?' and I took the resolution of travelingwith, or rather behind, you. I followed you, therefore, not withouttrouble, and at last we arrived at Lyons. I entered the hotelan hour after you, and have been in the adjoining room; look,there is only a partition between, and, as you may imagine, Idid not travel all the way from Paris to Lyons to lose sightof you now. I pierced a little hole, through which I had thepleasure of watching you when I liked, and I confess I gave myselfthis pleasure several times a day. At last you fell ill; thehost wished to get rid of you, but you were determined to waithere for M. de Gondy. I was duped by you at first, for you mightreally have been ill, so I sent you a brave monk, to excite youto repentance; but, hardened sinner that you are, you tried tokill him, forgetting the Scripture maxim, 'He who strikes withthe sword shall perish with the sword.' Then I came to you, andsaid, 'We are old friends; let us arrange the matter.'"
"In what manner?"
"It would be a pity that such a man as you should disappear fromthe world; give up plots, trust me, break with the Guises, giveme your papers, and, on the faith of a gentleman, I will makeyour peace with the king."
"While, on the contrary, if I do not give them to you?"
"Ah! then, on the faith of a gentleman, I will kill you! But ifyou give them to me, all shall be forgotten. You do not believeme, perhaps, for your nature is bad, and you think my resentmentcan never be forgotten. But, although it is true that I hate you,I hate M. de Mayenne more; give me what will ruin him, and I willsave you. And then, perhaps, you will not believe this either,for you love nothing; but I love the king, foolish and corruptedas he is, and I wish that he should reign tranquilly--which isimpossible with the Mayennes and the genealogy of Nicolas David.Therefore, give me up the genealogy, and I promise to make yourname and your fortune."
David never moved.
"Well," said Chicot, "I see all that I say to you is but wastedbreath; therefore, I go to get you hanged. Adieu, M. David,"and he stepped backwards towards the door.
"And you think I shall let you go out," cried the advocate.
"No, no, my fine spy; no, no, Chicot, my friend, those who knowof the genealogy must die. Those who menace me must die."
"You put me quite at my ease; I hesitated only because I am sureto kill you. Crillon, the other day, taught me a particular thrust,only one, but that will suffice. Come, give me the papers, orI will kill you; and I will tell you how--I will pierce yourthroat just where you wished to bleed Gorenflot."
Chicot had hardly finished, when David rushed on him with a savagelaugh. The two adversaries were nearly matched in height, butChicot, who fenced nearly every day with the king, had becomeone of the most skilful swordsmen in the kingdom. David soonbegan to perceive this, and he retreated a step.
"Ah! ah!" said Chicot, "now you begin to understand. Once more;the papers."
David, for answer, threw himself again upon Chicot, and a newcombat ensued. At last Chicot called out,--
"Here is the thrust," and as he spoke, he thrust his rapier halfthrough his throat.
David did not reply, but fell at Chicot's feet, pouring out amouthful of blood. But by a natural movement he tried to draghimself towards his bed, so as to defend his secret to the last.
"Ah!" cried Chicot, "I thought you cunning, but I see you area fool. I did not know where the papers were, and you have shownme----" and while David rolled in the agonies of death, he ranto the bed, raised the mattress, and found under it a roll ofparchment. At the moment in which he unrolled it to see if itwas the document he sought, David raised himself in a rage andthen fell back dead. Chicot saw with joy that he held what hewanted. The Pope had written at the bottom, "Fiat ut voluit Deus;Deus jura hominum fecit." After placing it in his breast, hetook the body of the advocate, who had died without losing moreblood, the nature of the wound making him bleed inwardly, putit back in the bed, turned the face to the wall, and, openingthe door, called Gorenflot.
"How pale you are!" said the monk, as he entered.
"Yes, the last moments of that man caused me some emotion."
"Then he is dead?"
"Yes."
"He was so well just now."
"Too well; he swallowed something difficult of digestion, anddied of it."
"The wretch wanted to strangle me, a holy man, and he is punishedfor it."
"Pardon him, you are a Christian."
"I do, although he frightened me much."
"You must do more; you must light the lamps, and say some prayersby his bed."
"Why?"
"That you may not be taken prisoner as his murderer."
"I, a murderer! it was he who tried to murder me."
"Mon Dieu! yes, and as he could not succeed, his rage made himbreak a blood-vessel. But till your innocence is establishedthey might annoy you much."
"I fear you are right."
"Then do what I tell you. Install yourself here, and recite allthe prayers you know, or do not know; then, when evening comes,go out and call at the ironmonger's at the corner of the street.There you will find your horse; mount him, and take the road toParis; at Villeneuve-le-Roi sell him, and take Panurge back."
"Ah! that good Panurge; I shall be delighted to see him again.But how am I to live?"
Chicot drew from his pocket a handful of crowns and put them intothe large hand of the monk.
"Generous man!" cried Gorenfl
ot. "Let me stay with you at Lyons;I love Lyons."
"But I do not stay here; I set off at once, and travel too rapidlyfor you to follow me."
"So be it, then."
Chicot installed the monk by the bed, and went downstairs to thehost.
"M. Bernouillet," said he, "a great event has taken place in yourhouse."
"What do you mean?"
"The hateful royalist, the enemy of our religion upstairs, receivedto-day a messenger from Rome."
"I know that: it was I who told you."
"Well, our holy father, the Pope, had sent him to this conspirator,who, however, probably did not suspect for what purpose."
"And why did he come?"
"Go up-stairs, lift up the bedclothes, look at his neck, and youwill see."
"You frighten me."
"I say no more. The Pope did you honor in choosing your housefor the scene of his vengeance."
Then Chicot put ten crowns into the hand of the host, and wentdown to the stable to get out the horses. M. Bernouillet wentup and found Gorenflot praying. He looked as directed, and foundthe wound.
"May every enemy of our religion die thus," said he to Gorenflot.
"Amen," replied the monk.
These events passed about the same time that Bussy brought theBaron de Meridor back to his daughter.