CHAPTER XIII.
I again Encounter Maubranne.
The Queen's Guards had disappeared; the coachman was mounting to hisseat when Armand and his friends returned, flourishing lighted torches,and singing a ridiculous song about the Abbe de Retz.
"A torchlight procession in honour of the bravery of the ladies!"exclaimed D'Arcy with a merry laugh. "Form your ranks, gentlemen; wewill teach the impudent little Abbe to keep his place!"
Holding torches in their left hands and naked swords in their right,the youthful gallants fell in; some in front, others to the rear of thecarriage, while Raoul and I, unable to oppose this ludicrous whim,walked on either side. Marie, who did not favour D'Arcy's pleasantry,sat so far back that her face could not be observed, but her auntentered into the fun, and laughed merrily when the torchbearers,catching some luckless wight, forced him to bow humbly before thecarriage and to cry, "_Vivent les Dames!_"
The glare of the torches, the trampling of feet, the songs and laughterof the escort, brought the people out in crowds, which compelled us toproceed at a slow pace. Here and there we heard a growl of "Down withConde!" but for the most part the worthy citizens enjoyed the spectacleand cheered heartily.
In the Rue Michel we were brought to a halt, and it appeared as if asecond and more serious blood-letting would occur. The narrow streetwas already crowded, and a carriage, preceded by half-a-dozen lackeysbearing torches, came towards us. Casting a furtive glance at Raoul, Idiscovered him looking anxiously at me; it was obvious to us both thatone party must turn back, but, unfortunately for any peacefulintentions we might have had, young D'Arcy who led the van, showed nosign of yielding.
"Make room there!" he shouted imperiously, as if he were Conde himself,and the people, cowed by our display of strength, parted to right andleft, leaving a clear passage.
This gave us a clearer view of the other carriage, and I noticed withdismay that it must belong to some important personage. Behind rode anumber of cavaliers richly dressed, and what was more to the purpose,well armed. Suddenly a mocking cry from Armand informed us who it wasthat paraded the streets thus numerously attended.
"Bring your torches nearer, gentlemen, that we may observe the red hatof our little friend the better!" he exclaimed.
A burst of mocking laughter greeted this speech, as every one knew howDe Retz had been tricked by Mazarin, and how furious he was at havingfailed to obtain a Cardinal's hat. Even the bystanders, most of whomwere the Abbe's friends, joined in the laugh, for your true Parisianloves nothing so much as ridicule.
"Poor little man," cried one of the gallants, with assumed sympathy,"it is difficult for him to hit on the exact shade to suit his beautybest!"
Now, as De Retz was one of the ugliest men in France, this pleasantrywas not likely to be well received, and I ran to the front with theidea of preserving peace. At the same time the Abbe, followed by mycousin, left the carriage, and the cavaliers pressed up from behind.Instead of retreating, Armand stood his ground firmly, and continuedwaving his lighted torch in the face of the Abbe, crying, "Make way forHis Eminence! The Cardinal wishes to visit the ladies his mob tried tomurder!"
"Eh? What's that? Ladies? Murder? What do you mean?" cried theAbbe, affecting not to notice the ridicule.
"Permit me to give your gentlemen the word," interposed Henri, "andthese popinjays shall soon be cleared from your path."
"The popinjays will take some time to clear!" remarked Armand laughing."I am not acquainted with any law which gives a private citizen, eventhough he be a prospective cardinal, sole right to the streets ofParis."
Now my cousin Henri was not noted for his lamb-like temper, so, withoutwaiting for the Abbe's commands, he drew his sword and rushed atD'Arcy, crying, "On guard!"
Another instant and the Rue Michel would have become the scene offierce combat, but, unseen by us, a stranger quietly pushed his waythrough the crowd, and placed himself without the least hesitationbetween the combatants. I gazed at him with interest. He was a tall,finely-built man, with a long, flowing beard, and the most resoluteface I had yet beheld in Paris. His eyes were bright, shrewd, andpiercing, his chin was square and firm, every line of his featuresbetokened power and the habit of command. Looking at him one wastempted to exclaim, "Here at least is a man!"
He wore the long robe of a councillor, and carried no weapon, but hewould have been a daring man who attacked him. The danger in which hestood troubled him not at all; he did not seem even to be aware of it.
"Put up your swords, gentlemen," he said quietly, and as if quite surethat no one would question his right to command. Then, turning to DeRetz he added in the same cool tones, "Monsieur l'Abbe, I am surprisedyou have not sufficient influence to prevent a breach of the peace! Itill becomes a dignitary of the Church to be taking part in a streetbrawl."
I can hardly imagine that De Retz was awed by the speaker--perhaps hehad private reasons for avoiding a quarrel with this strong, purposefulman: at least he showed no offence at the rebuke, and not onlyrequested Henri to sheathe his sword, but actually offered a halfapology for the quarrel, which really was none of his seeking.
"One must always yield to the ladies!" he exclaimed gallantly, and,with a courteous bow to the stranger, ordered his coach to be turnedback.
"Who is he?" I asked Raoul, as the peacemaker, after scolding D'Arcyfor his rudeness, and bidding him be less hasty in future, withdrew.
"Matthew Mole, the first President, and the only honest public man inFrance," replied Raoul bitterly, as he resumed his place in theprocession.
The torch-bearers were not yet weary of their mischief, but theencounter with De Retz rendered them less demonstrative, and theremainder of the journey passed without incident. On arriving at theRue Crillon, in order to keep up the character of the play, Armandmarshalled his comrades in two lines, forming a kind of triumphalpassage for Marie and her aunt.
As soon as the ladies entered their house the escort dispersed, somegoing one way, some another, Raoul and I walked away together, andD'Arcy, still bubbling over with fun, accompanied us.
"A nice evening's amusement," laughed the young scamp; "but what was itall about? _Ma foi_, Beauchamp, I shall have to look after you morecarefully in the future, or you will be getting into further scrapes!"
"Take care yourself," I suggested, "or De Retz will lay you by theheels. He won't be in a hurry to forgive this night's work."
"Oh! the Abbe is a man of sense; he will laugh at the joke to-morrow,and accept his defeat gracefully. What a firebrand your cousin is!Did you notice his eyes flash? I thought he meant to make mincemeat ofme! It is a pity you are always against him; he will take quite adislike to you."
"Peleton and Maubranne are more to be feared than Henri," said Raoul."Each of them has several scores to settle with our friend."
"And with you and D'Arcy!"
"Yes, but we possess powerful patrons; you have none. If Peletonstabbed either of us in the back he would have to answer to the Duke ofOrleans, but who is there to champion your quarrel? Come with us tothe Luxembourg, and let us introduce you to the Duke. There is nodishonour in taking fresh service now that Mazarin has fled."
"Still I intend to stand by the Cardinal!"
"Bravo!" cried Armand; "never desert your colours! I wish, though,that you belonged to our side."
"You will come over to us yet," I said. "A week ago you were hand inglove with De Retz; now you are Conde's friends. Next week----"
"That is too far off to consider," laughed Armand. "Next week? Whythere are several days before that time arrives! Your mind flies toofast, my boy. I have yet to hear what led to such a hubbub thisevening!"
"A mere trifle," remarked Raoul; "Madame Coutance behaved foolishly.The Abbe's mob ordered her to cry 'Down with Conde!' and she told themthey weren't fit to be his doormat."
"She has plenty of pluck!"
"It is a pity she hasn't a little more common-sense. To-night shemight have set all Paris by the ears
through her want of thought.Mazarin was right in declaring she is like a child playing with fire."
"By the way," asked Raoul, "who was the soldier fighting for us? Byhis uniform he should be one of the Queen's Guards."
"He does belong to them. He is an Englishman named Humphreys, and aright good fellow."
"A fine swordsman! It was wonderful how he cleared a space; the peoplewere afraid to be anywhere near him."
"I must introduce him at the first opportunity. You are sure to likehim."
"Not as an opponent," laughed Raoul; "and he doesn't seem likely to beanything else at present. Well, we turn off here; I shall see you atthe end of the week."
"Meanwhile keep your eyes open!" D'Arcy advised, as they proceededtowards the Luxembourg, while I, crossing the Pont Neuf, turned down bythe Quai.
I had at the time a great deal to think of. Being young and strong, Icared little for the threatened danger, but my stock of money wasrunning low, and I foresaw that, unless something unexpected happened,I should be stranded before long for want of funds.
Thus far, I thought bitterly, my search for fortune had not met withmuch success. Twice I had been within an ace of death, and my bodystill bore the marks of several wounds. Mazarin, to whose service Iwas pledged, had been banished, and I could find another patron onlyamong his enemies. Completely wrapped up in these thoughts, I wanderedalong the dirty quay, and turning mechanically in the proper direction,reached the Rue des Catonnes.
The next day I increased my stock of ready money by the sale of myhorse, which enabled me to carry on again for a time, and I hoped thatbefore the supply was exhausted a fresh turn of fortune's wheel wouldrelieve my difficulties. Raoul, of course, would have lent me hispurse freely, but that I did not wish.
During the evening my English friend came across from the Palais Royalfor a chat about the adventure of the previous night. Like Raoul, heblamed Madame Coutance for her stupid behaviour, speaking his mindfreely, and not stopping to choose his words.
"Did you return with your comrades?" I asked.
"Yes, and a lucky thing too, or I should have got into worse trouble.As it was, our captain reproved me severely for engaging in a streetbrawl. Upon my word I think my brain must be softening."
"What is the matter?"
"Matter?" he cried, banging his fist on the table. "Why, it takes aman all his time to find out where he stands in this topsy-turvy city.Just tell me what this commotion is about, will you? It may be easyenough for a Frenchman to understand, but for me--it makes my headswim."
He listened attentively while I explained the situation, asking aquestion here and there, and turning the answers over in his mind.
"Oh," he observed at the end, "the affair is simple enough after all.The Queen has only to clap Orleans, Conde, and De Retz into theBastille, and the trick is done. If their friends grumbled, why theycould go too, and fight out their quarrels in prison. What is the useof being a Queen if you don't rule?"
"Your plan is excellent, but it would bring about civil war, and wedon't want that."
"But you have it now!" he objected quickly. "What else was the visitof the mob to the Palace the other night? And this Conde--he issueshis orders like a king, though according to you he is only a subject.I would have no such subjects in my country."
"The trouble must be over soon. The King will be proclaimed of age onhis fourteenth birthday, and all parties will rally round him."
"A good thing for the country!" said he, rising. "Well, I must getback; I am on guard to-night."
It was dreary work sitting in my room alone, so, putting on my hat, Istrolled into the streets, and finally found myself at the house in theRue Crillon. Madame Coutance was at home, and she received me withhigh good-humour, calling me one of her knights-errant, and declaring Ihad helped to save her life, which was really true.
It was interesting to observe how differently the two ladies regardedthe same circumstance. The elder one could talk only of the romanticparts; the challenge of the mob, the defiance, the fight, the arrivalof the soldiers, the torchlight procession, the humbling of De Retz.Marie, on the contrary, cared little for these things; all her anxietywas for the people who had been injured.
"The more I see of these troubles, the more hateful they become," shesaid. "They have divided families, and parted friends; they havestarved the poor and desolated the country, and no good has resultedfrom them."
"The country requires a strong man like Conde to hold the reins,"remarked her aunt.
"Or a learned priest like De Retz," I put in slily, and was met at onceby strong expressions of dissent; Marie, in particular, declaring shewould rather hear of the recall of Mazarin, which I ventured toprophesy would be the outcome of these petty squabbles.
The girl seemed rather sad, and I was not surprised when she said, "Iwish we were back at Aunay, away from the turmoil. There is no peacein this continual whirl of excitement. I am always thinking some evilis going to happen."
"Nonsense," exclaimed her aunt. "How can there be any danger now thatConde has returned to his rightful place? De Retz will never dare toharm the prince's friends," a naive remark, which much amused me.
It was late when I left the house, and the street was nearly deserted.Standing a moment on the step, I suddenly became aware of anill-dressed fellow evidently watching me from the shelter of a door-waynearly opposite.
"A spy!" I concluded, "and a very clumsy one, too. I wonder if he hasbeen set to dog me?"
I crossed the road carelessly, when the fellow, no doubt hoping he hadnot been noticed, slipped off, and, on my following a short distance,he darted into a narrow street and disappeared. Puzzled by thisstrange behaviour, I hid in the shadow of a wall, and kept a patientwatch for over an hour, but he did not return.
"Chut!" I exclaimed at last, "Raoul has shaken my nerves with hiswarning of Peleton and Maubranne. Most likely the man did not know mefrom Adam." I endeavoured to dismiss the incident from my mind, yet Icould think of little else during the walk home, and even the next daythe memory of it clung to me. It seemed absurd to suppose that any onewould spy on my actions, but in those days nothing was too absurd to betrue.
"Well," I thought, "it can soon be tested. I will visit the RueCrillon again to-night, and keep a sharp look-out."
The streets as usual were extremely noisy; the citizens were out incrowds, and several slight scuffles occurred between the friends ofConde and De Retz. Taking no notice of these squabbles, I proceededbriskly to the Rue Crillon, and there found my man in his hiding-place.He was carefully watching the house opposite, but as soon as I appearedwithin sight he vanished.
"Oh, oh," said I to myself, with a chuckle, "it is Madame Coutance youare watching, is it? Well, my friend, you will find that two can playat that game!" and, discovering a quiet corner, I stood flattenedagainst the wall with my face muffled.
Two hours passed, but the man did not re-appear, and, when midnightarrived without any incident, I left the Rue Crillon, which was nowalmost deserted.
In a side street a number of people were cheering loudly for Conde, andfarther on I met half a dozen cavaliers evidently returning from somemeeting. One was Baron Maubranne. Willing to keep out of mischief, Idrew aside to let him pass, hoping he would not recognise me. Hepassed on singing lustily, but a second man stared insolently into myface. Keeping my temper, though my fingers itched to chastise thefellow, I went on my way, thinking the danger past; but in this I waswrong.
To reach the Pont Neuf it was necessary to traverse a narrow dingycourt, and here my life and my story nearly came to an end together.
Still thinking of the mysterious spy in the Rue Crillon, and not at allof Maubranne's friends, I proceeded slowly, paying little heed to myroute. Happily for me the court was very quiet; the inmates hadretired to rest, and nothing broke the stillness of the night.
Suddenly I stopped, with my hand on my sword, and listened intently.From behind came the swift patter of footsteps, and t
urning round Iperceived dimly the figure of a man gliding along in the shadow of thewall. Before I could get my sword free he sprang at me, and, inendeavouring to avoid the blow, I fell heavily. With a jeering laughthe assassin flourished his sword, and, as I caught sight of his face,all hope vanished, for the man was Peleton. Looking down at me, hegripped his weapon more firmly, and prepared to strike home.
"You are a clever lad," said he tauntingly, "but all the skill in theworld won't save you now. I intend to pay off my old debts."
The fall had half stunned me, but the sound of his voice and the gleamof steel brought back my senses. I was struggling to regain my feet,when I heard a hoarse shout, and the next instant Peleton's weapon wentflying into the air. A second man had run up hurriedly, and wasgripping my assailant's arm.
"Fool!" cried he, "can't you wait? Don't you know the Abbe has need ofhim? A plague on your stupid temper; it will ruin everything. Put upyour sword, M. de Lalande," for by now I was standing on guard, "ourfriend here has made a trifling mistake, that is all."
It was difficult to refrain from laughing at the man's coolness. Hespoke as if a sword thrust was a matter hardly to be considered; but Ithanked him, nevertheless, for having saved my life.
"Not at all, not at all!" he replied. "There is nothing to be thankfulfor. I only grudged my friend the pleasure of paying his score beforemy own account was settled."
By this time I had recognised Maubranne, who, for some reason bestknown to himself, had interfered to prevent my being killed. Now herejoined Peleton, who meanwhile had groped about in the darkness andrecovered his sword, and the two worthies departed together, leaving mein a state of considerable amazement.