CHAPTER XXIII.
The Ladies Leave Paris.
We could still hear the hoarse shouts of the people, but the streets inthe direction of St. Denis were quiet, and the darkness prevented usfrom being observed. As Marie had recovered her strength we walkedquickly, and finally arrived at the gate, where the Duke of Orleans hadstationed a double guard. The officer on duty regarded us withsuspicion, but I showed him the order, which he dared not disobey.
"You may pass, monsieur," said he with mocking politeness, "it is notfor me to disapprove of the Duke's friends."
The fellow's words roused my anger, and my face burned, but time wastoo precious for me to quarrel with him. We had saved our lives, it istrue, but our plight was still miserable enough.
"We must find somewhere to sleep," said Madame Coutance, "and in themorning we can hire a carriage. Marie is too tired to walk farther."
This was the best plan, but I knew nothing of St. Denis, and it wasonly after a weary search that I secured accommodation for them in asmall inn. The place was dirty, and the landlord ugly enough tofrighten one, but Marie and her aunt behaved very bravely, making nocomplaint. They retired to their room at once, while I kept guardoutside the door with loaded pistols and naked sword.
The next morning I learned the lesson that it is not always well tojudge by appearances. Touched by the ladies' distress, the innkeeperdid all he could to help me, and, through his assistance, I succeededin hiring a wretched cart to carry us a stage on our journey.
"I am sorry it is such a poor affair," said the man, "but there is nota carriage in the place. It is strange how many people have left Parisduring the last few days. One would think the plague had broken out."
"The plague would have been less harmful," said I, remembering thescene in the Rue Crillon.
In view of Le Tellier's note all this delay was extremely awkward, butthere was no help for it; I could not leave Marie and her aunt strandedat St. Denis.
Madame Coutance laughed merrily at sight of the clumsy vehicle, and shejoked on my taste in choosing such an elegant equipage. However, wemade the inside fairly comfortable with rugs and cushions, and, havingpaid the inn-keeper, I assisted the ladies to their seats and clamberedin after them. The driver, a stolid, thick-headed fellow, cracked hiswhip, and we started off at a brisk trot, which, however, the horsesdid not keep up long.
Hitherto there had been no opportunity to speak of my cousin's death,but now I informed my companions of what had happened. Both weredeeply grieved at the news, Madame Coutance especially showing morefeeling than I should have expected.
"Did he die of his wound?" she asked.
"In a measure; but chiefly from the hardships endured through hidingfrom Conde."
"The prince would have forgiven him!"
"On conditions; and Henri would have refused them. My cousin was notthe best of men, but he was loyal to his friends."
"You are right," exclaimed Madame Coutance warmly; "in many ways Henride Lalande was a gallant gentleman. And now, what are you going to do?"
"As soon as you reach Aunay I shall join the King's friends."
"Ah!" she exclaimed with a smile, "I know you are against the prince,but I wish you success for yourself, and if you fall, well, thebattlefield is a fit resting-place for a gentleman of France."
"I shall pray for you, Albert," whispered Marie, "that you may comesafely through every danger. I hate all this fighting and bloodshed,and wish the country could be at peace."
"It will be soon," I answered, and then for a while we journeyed insilence.
About four o'clock in the afternoon we reached a large village, and thedriver pulled up at the principal inn. This was the end of his stage,and though we offered him a handsome sum of money he refused to go ayard farther. He declared that his horses required rest, which wastrue enough, and that his master had ordered him to return to St. Denisin the morning.
"We must make the best of it," exclaimed Madame Coutance; "I daresay wecan obtain some sort of accommodation for the night."
Our reception was far from encouraging, but when the innkeeperdiscovered that we were not penniless, his manner changed. The ladieswere shown into the best room, a chamber was made ready for them, andthe servants received orders to prepare a good meal. All this wasextremely pleasant, but there was a greater slice of luck to follow.As soon as I had explained the situation he offered to solve ourdifficulty. A carriage? Certainly, he had the very thing, and a teamof beautiful horses as well. Of course it would be expensive, butthen, no doubt, monsieur would be willing to pay for the privilege.
Finally it was agreed that we should start at dawn, and I went to sleepthat night with a feeling of relief. It was barely light when we satdown to breakfast, and the ladies shivered on going into the cold air,but the carriage was comfortable, and, when the leathern coverings weredrawn down, warm.
"Decidedly an improvement on the open cart," exclaimed Madame Coutance,as she leaned back against the cushions. "We ought to reach Aunaybefore nightfall."
I earnestly hoped we should, as I was becoming uneasy concerning LeTellier's note. However, as nothing could be done until the ladieswere placed in safety, I endeavoured to dismiss the subject from mymind, and to appear as pleasant as possible. There is no need tolinger over the details of the journey. We stopped two or three timesfor food and rest, and at one place to change the horses, but we metwith no adventure of any kind, and arrived at the chateau about threeo'clock, quite two hours sooner than I had dared to hope.
"Home again," said Marie softly, as we entered the hall, "and I hope itwill be long before we leave it."
"Not until the prince rides triumphantly into Paris!" exclaimed heraunt. "Why do you smile, M. de Lalande? The prince has already beatenMazarin, and he will make short work of the rest."
"Very likely, madame," I said, not wishing to be drawn into anargument, but, remembering the note in my pocket, I greatly doubted ifthe Cardinal were as completely overcome as his enemies believed.
It was a difficult matter to get away from Aunay that evening. Theladies declared I was tired, and begged me to stay until the next day,but this, though they were not aware of it, was out of the question.Finding at last that I was resolved to depart, Madame Coutance insistedon my wearing a plumed hat which had belonged to her husband, and toldme to choose the best saddle-horse in her stables.
"True," said she, with a charming smile, "you are an enemy to theprince, but I do not forget that you are also one of my best friends."
[Transcriber's note: illustration missing from book]
The scene of my departure from the chateau is still very vivid in mymemory. It was evening, and the sky flushed red with the glories ofthe setting sun. From afar came the tinkling of bells, the lowing ofkine, and the chatter of the serving-men. The ladies stood on theterrace overlooking the fine park, and as I rode off they waved theirhands in farewell, and wished me God-speed on the journey.
I was half sorry to plunge again into the strife, but the beautifulevening and the brisk ride soon restored my spirits. I wished Pillothad been with me, not alone for the sake of his company, but for hishelp also. However, I was young and strong, and having a certainamount of confidence in myself rode on cheerily enough.
On the third evening after leaving the chateau I arrived at Rheims,passing into the town just before the closing of the gates. Thestreets were filled with people who wore an air of excitement as ifsomething was going forward. A number of soldiers loitered about ingroups, but whether they were the King's friends or Conde's I could notdetermine, as they wore no distinguishing colours.
Riding slowly down one of the less frequented streets, I discovered aninn which had every appearance of being clean and comfortable.
"This is the place to suit me," I said half aloud, and was proceedingto dismount, when I caught sight of a man staring hard in my directionfrom the window of the opposite house, and while I was talking to theostler the stranger had run down and clappe
d me on the back in theheartiest manner. He looked rather like a soldier of fortune who hadfallen on evil times. His finery was distinctly faded, but he carrieda good sword, and seemed capable of using it. His face was tanned byexposure to the weather, both cheeks bore the marks of sword-cuts, andthere was a scar on his forehead just above the left eye. Altogetherhe appeared a far from desirable acquaintance.
"Henri, my boy," he cried, giving me another tremendous thwack, "howcame you here? Ah, you are a sly rascal! Plotting more mischief, eh?Well, well, you are safe for me, though I am for the King."
The speaker rattled on at such a rate that I could scarcely manage toput in, "Pardon me, monsieur, but you have made a mistake."
"A mistake?" he exclaimed. "_Peste!_ I must be growing old. Myeyesight is failing. Aren't you Henri de Lalande? You are very muchlike him. Ah, no, I perceive now you are younger. He is an oldfriend, but we see little of each other. I am in the King's serviceand he is a Frondeur. But in private life, you know, eh?" and he gaveme a vigorous dig in the ribs, following it up by saying, "Perhapsmonsieur is a relative?"
I cannot say what my answer would have been, but just then I receivedanother shock. A few yards farther along, standing well back againstthe wall, was a little man, evidently endeavouring to attract myattention. Directly his attempt succeeded he placed a finger on hisclosed lips, held it there a second or two, and vanished.
It was Pillot, and in my amazement I almost spoke the name aloud. Howdid he get there? What mystery was afoot now?
Presently the stranger, who had been trying to account for the newexpression in my face, exclaimed, "Monsieur then is not a relative?"
"A relative," I answered vaguely, for the unexpected appearance ofPillot had put the soldier's remarks out of my head altogether; "I wishyou would not pester me with your questions. I am tired and hungry,and do not understand what you mean."
"I am sorry, monsieur," he said humbly; "I have few friends, and seeingone of them, as I fancied, was carried away. Well, there, let it pass.Time was when Captain Courcy could ruffle it with the best."
He really seemed so downhearted that I was ashamed of my brusquebehaviour, and exclaimed, "It is I who should ask pardon, monsieur, butindeed, I am badly in want of food and rest: I have ridden far. Later,perhaps, we shall meet again, when I am in better condition fortalking."
"It may be so, monsieur," and, saluting me with a courtly bow, heturned and re-crossed the street, while I entered the inn and wasushered into a private room.
"A good supper, landlord," I said, "the best you have in the house, andwhile it is being prepared I will see to my horse."
"The servants will attend to the animal, monsieur," he answered; but ithas always been a fancy of mine that every rider should see that hishorse is made comfortable.
By the time I returned supper was ready, and I sat down to an amplemeal, which reminded me strangely of the one I had eaten in La Bouled'Or on the night of my arrival in Paris. At that time, my purse wasnearly empty; now it was full almost to bursting--a welcome difference.
After supper I leaned back in my chair, musing over the strange eventthat had occurred outside. But for one thing I should soon havebanished all thoughts of Captain Courcy from my mind. He was, Iimagined, a gentleman who, either through ill-luck or his own folly,had come to grief in the world, and was at present reduced to borrowingmoney from his acquaintances.
But if this were so, why had Pillot acted in such a strange manner?Why, indeed, was he in Rheims at all? I had ordered him to proceed toAunay, which it was certain he had not done. I was still turning thesethings over in my mind when the door was pushed open softly, and Pillothimself entered. He glanced round the room cautiously, and finding mealone closed the door behind him.
"Monsieur is in danger," said he quietly, and without wasting any timein greeting; "his errand is known, and Conde's friends are trackinghim."
I gave a start of surprise, and thought instantly of the man who hadaccosted me outside the inn; but Pillot, not allowing me time to speak,continued, "You were unlucky in choosing this street, monsieur.Captain Courcy with two others have ridden straight from Parisexpecting to overtake you on the road. They were unaware that you hadgone to Aunay, disguised in a blue over-all and a workman's cap."
"If Mazarin ever returns to power, Pillot, I will ask him to put you atthe head of police. How did you discover that secret?"
"It was whispered to me just after the funeral of monsieur's cousin.Monsieur will be pleased to hear that the Abbe himself performed thelast rites."
"He could do little less, considering what my cousin had done for him.But now, about this other business! Has Captain Courcy recognised me?"
"Yes, and he is at present informing his friends of the discovery. ButI had better begin at the beginning. After you had received thenote--oh, it is well known, monsieur!--this Courcy and two others ofhis stamp were sent in pursuit. Concluding that you had gone straightto Bruhl, they rode day and night, changing horses on the road, throughRheims and almost as far as Mezieres. Naturally they wereunsuccessful, and, not knowing what else to do, they returned here."
"And you followed them?"
"As far as Rheims, but no farther. Knowing you had gone to Aunay, Ifelt confident you could not be in front of us."
I sat drumming idly on the table, and wondering what was best to bedone. The most simple plan was to give Pillot the note, but then I hadfaithfully promised Le Tellier that it should not go out of mypossession. I was in a hobble. This Courcy was evidently an oldcampaigner, equally ready with his brain or sword. It would be hard tooutwit him, and I guessed that he was more than my match in a fight.
Suddenly Pillot astonished me by asking where I had hidden the note.Perhaps it was foolish to trust one who had worked so hard for myenemies, but somehow I felt no fear that he would play me false. Hehad plotted willingly against Mazarin, but on the other hand he did notlove Conde, and was hardly likely to assist him. Remembering thesethings, I answered without hesitation, "In my doublet."
"A poor hiding-place, monsieur," said he; "one always looks therefirst. Stay here a few minutes and I will show you a trick."
With that he stole out of the room, and closed the door, leaving me ina state of wondering excitement. He could certainly show me a tricknow if he pleased, and an ugly one too, by returning with CaptainCourcy. I confess that the idea did cross my mind, but I would notheed it, and in less than half-an-hour the dwarf returned alone.
"Now, monsieur," said he, "take off one of your riding-boots. Quick,we may be interrupted. Is it a large packet?"
"No," I answered, giving him the boot, "it is nothing more than a slipof paper."
With a sharp instrument he made a tiny slit at the back of the boot onthe inside, just large enough to allow of the paper being inserted, andthen with some shoemaker's implements sewed the edges together soneatly that one could hardly detect the joinings.
"There, monsieur," he exclaimed chuckling; "I doubt if Captain Courcywill be clever enough to discover that. Now, listen to me, monsieur.Your only plan is boldness. It is known you are in Rheims, and withouta doubt the gates will be watched, while the captain will keep an eyeon this inn."
"Well?" I exclaimed rather impatiently.
"Go into the common room, and show yourself as if you had nothing tofear. Do not hurry in the morning, but about ten o'clock ride out ofthe town. The others will follow, but they are not likely to attemptanything till nightfall. By keeping along the highroad to Mezieres,you will reach a village called Verdu. By that time, your horse willbe tired, and you must ask the innkeeper if he knows of a horse forsale. Should he request you to go to the stables, invite your friendsto accompany you."
"My friends?"
"Why, yes," exclaimed Pillot, "by then you will probably have threefriends."
"Oh," said I, beginning to understand, "go on."
"The animal will not be worth buying, and you will return to your room.Since monsieur can
not leave Verdu without a horse, he may as well situp late; there will be agreeable company."
"Now I am puzzled again."
Pillot laughed. "It is a child's trick, monsieur. When it is gettingvery late a man from the village will arrive with a fresh horse. Aftersome delay you will go out and instruct him to call in the morning."
"Yes," said I, still wondering.
"Monsieur will go out, but he will not return, and when his friendshurry to the stable they will find only two horses which cannot run amile. Now I must slip away without being seen, and I trust you willremember not to start before ten o'clock."
After waiting a few minutes in order to let him get clear, I strolledinto the common room, and sat a while talking with the people on thestate of the country. Rather to my surprise very few of them spoke infavour of Conde, the majority exclaiming against him as a traitor, andsaying he ought to be executed.
"He is a fine general, though," remarked the inn-keeper; "I foughtunder him at Rocroi."
"He has brought the Spaniards into the country," cried a stout-lookingfellow, hotly, "and I will never forgive that. What say you, monsieur?"
"Why, I am of your opinion. The Frenchman who bargains with Spaniardsto shoot down his own countrymen, is not deserving of much pity."
"Bravo, monsieur! Well said! I would have helped him fight Mazarin orany of these squabblers in Paris, but to raise arms against the King isa different matter. Perhaps monsieur belongs to the royal army?"
"You are not far from the mark," said I laughing; "you evidently havesharp eyes, my friend."
I looked about for Courcy, half expecting he would enter, but there wasno sign of him, so at last I went to the chamber which had beenprepared for me.