CHAPTER LXXXIX.
INTEREST AND CAPITAL.
As the king spoke and the conspirators listened, they passedfrom astonishment to terror. Chicot I. relinquished his roleof apparent terror, threw back his hood, crossed his arms, and,while Gorenflot fled at his utmost speed, sustained, firm andsmiling, the first shock. It was a terrible moment, for thegentlemen, furious at the mystification of which they had beenthe dupes, advanced menacingly on the Gascon. But this unarmedman, his breast covered only by his arms--this laughing face,stopped them still more than the remonstrance of the cardinal,who said to them that Chicot's death could serve no end, but,on the contrary, would be terribly avenged by the king, who wasthe jester's accomplice in this scene of terrible buffoonery.
The result was, that daggers and rapiers were lowered before Chicot,who continued to laugh in their faces.
However, the king's menaces and Crillon's blows became more vehement,and it was evident that the door could not long resist such anattack. Thus, after a moment's deliberation, the Duc de Guisegave the order for retreat. This order made Chicot smile, for,during his nights with Gorenflot, he had examined the cave andfound out the door, of which he had informed the king, who hadplaced there Torquenot, lieutenant of the Swiss guards. It wasthen evident that the leaguers, one after another, were aboutto throw themselves into the trap. The cardinal made off first,followed by about twenty gentlemen. Then Chicot saw the dukepass with about the same number, and afterwards Mayenne. WhenChicot saw him go he laughed outright. Ten minutes passed, duringwhich he listened earnestly, thinking to hear the noise of theleaguers sent back into the cave, but to his astonishment, thesound continued to go further and further off. His laugh began tochange into oaths. Time passed, and the leaguers did not return;had they seen that the door was guarded and found another wayout? Chicot was about to rush from the cell, when all at oncethe door was obstructed by a mass which fell at his feet, andbegan to tear its hair.
"Ah! wretch that I am!" cried the monk. "Oh! my good M. Chicot,pardon me, pardon me!"
How did Gorenflot, who went first, return now alone? was the questionthat presented itself to Chicot's mind.
"Oh! my good M. Chicot!" he continued to cry, "pardon your unworthyfriend, who repents at your knees."
"But how is it you have not fled with the others?"
"Because the Lord in His anger has struck me with obesity, andI could not pass where the others did. Oh! unlucky stomach! Oh!miserable paunch!" cried the monk, striking with his two handsthe part he apostrophized. "Ah! why am not I thin like you, M.Chicot?"
Chicot understood nothing of the lamentations of the monk.
"But the others are flying, then?" cried he, in a voice of thunder.
"Pardieu! what should they do? Wait to be hung? Oh! unlucky paunch!"
"Silence, and answer me."
"Interrogate me, M. Chicot; you have the right."
"How are the others escaping?"
"As fast as they can."
"So I imagine; but where?"
"By the hole."
"Mordieu! what hole?"
"The hole in the cemetery cellar."
"Is that what you call the cave?"
"Oh! no; the door of that was guarded outside. The great cardinal,just as he was about to open it, heard a Swiss say, 'Mich dwistel,'which means, 'I am thirsty.'"
"Ventre de biche! so then they took another way?"
"Yes, dear M. Chicot, they are getting out through the cellar."
"How does that run?"
"From the crypt to the Porte St. Jacques."
"You lie; I should have seen them repass before this cell."
"No, dear M. Chicot; they thought they had not time for that,so they are creeping out through the air-hole."
"What hole?"
"One which looks into the garden, and serves to light the cellar."
"So that you----"
"I was too big, and could not pass, and they drew me back by mylegs, because I intercepted the way for the others."
"Then he who is bigger than you?"
"He! who?"
"Oh! Holy Virgin, I promise you a dozen wax candles, if he alsocannot pass."
"M. Chicot!"
"Get up."
The monk raised himself from the ground as quickly as he could.
"Now lead me to the hole."
"Where you wish."
"Go on, then, wretch."
Gorenflot went on as fast as he was able, while Chicot indulgedhimself by giving him a few blows with the cord. They traversedthe corridor, and descended into the garden.
"Here! this way," said Gorenflot.
"Hold your tongue, and go on."
"There it is," and exhausted by his efforts, the monk sank on thegrass, while Chicot, hearing groans, advanced, and saw somethingprotruding through the hole. By the side of this something laya frock and a sword. It was evident that the individual in thehole had taken off successively all the loose clothing whichincreased his size; and yet, like Gorenflot, he was making uselessefforts to get through.
"Mordieu! ventrebleu! sangdien!" cried a stifled voice. "I wouldrather pass through the midst of the guards. Do not pull so hard,my friends; I shall come through gradually; I feel that I advance,not quickly, it is true, but I do advance."
"Ventre de biche!" murmured Chicot, "it is M. de Mayenne. HolyVirgin, you have gained your candles."
And he made a noise with his feet like some one running fast.
"They are coming," cried several voices from inside.
"All!" cried Chicot, as if out of breath, "it is you, miserablemonk!"
"Say nothing, monseigneur!" murmured the voices, "he takes youfor Gorenflot."
"Ah! it is you, heavy mass--pondus immobile; it is you, indigestamoles!"
And at each apostrophe, Chicot, arrived at last at his desiredvengeance, let fall the cord with all the weight of his arm onthe body before him.
"Silence!" whispered the voices again; "he takes you for Gorenflot."
Mayenne only uttered groans, and made immense efforts to get through.
"Ah! conspirator!" cried Chicot again; "ah! unworthy monk, thisis for your drunkenness, this for idleness, this for anger, thisfor greediness, and this for all the vices you have."
"M. Chicot, have pity," whispered Gorenflot.
"And here, traitor, this is for your treason," continued Chicot.
"Ah! why did it not please God to substitute for your vulgarcarcass the high and mighty shoulders of the Duc de Mayenue,to whom I owe a volley of blows, the interest of which has beenaccumulating for seven years!"
"Chicot!" cried the duke.
"Yes, Chicot, unworthy servant of the king, who wishes he hadthe hundred arms of Briareus for this occasion."
And he redoubled his blows with such violence, that the sufferer,making a tremendous effort, pushed himself through, and felltorn and bleeding into the arms of his friends. Chicot's lastblow fell into empty space. He turned, and saw that the trueGorenflot had fainted with terror.