CHAPTER XXXIV
"LE MONARQUE"
A few minutes later he had reached the principal inn of the town,"L'Auberge des Trois Matelots," immediately opposite the rough woodenjetty, and from the bay window of which Gaston immediately thoughtthat a magnificent view must be obtainable of the stretch of the riverand the English Channel far away.
He turned into the gate. The house itself was low, one-storied only,and built entirely of wood round a central court-yard, which was asdeep in slime as the rest of the town of Le Havre. Opposite Gaston ashe rode in, were some primitive stablings, and on his right someequally primitive open sheds; the remaining two sides apparently stoodfor the main portion of the building, as several doors gave upon acovered verandah, to which some four or five steps gave access.
A weary-eyed ostler in a blue blouse and huge wooden sabots, fromwhich bunches of straw protruded at the heel came leisurely forwardwhen Gaston drew rein. He seemed to have emerged from nowhere inparticular, risen out of the mud mayhap, but he held the mare none tooclumsily when M. le Comte dismounted.
The next moment a portly figure appeared in one of the doorways underthe verandah, clad precisely like the ostler, save for the gorgeousscarlet kerchief round the gargantuan neck, whilst another, equallybright in hue, peeped out of the pocket of the blouse.
Above the scarlet neckerchief a round face, red as a Normandy apple,was turned meditatively on the mud-stained cavalier, whilst a pair ofsmall, beady eyes blinked drowsily at the afternoon sun.
"See that the mare gets a good rub down at once, then a feed of cornwith a dash of eau-de-vie in it, a litter of straw, and a drink ofwater; she is done to death," said Gaston, peremptorily to thesleepy-looking ostler. "I'll be round in a quarter of an hour to seeif she is comfortable, and give you a taste of my whip if she is not."
The ostler did not reply, neither did he touch his forelock in tokenof obedience. He smothered a yawn and with slow, dragging steps he ledthe over-tired mare toward the rough stabling in the rear. Gaston thenturned toward the verandah and to the few wooden steps which led up tothe doorway, wherein the apple-faced man still stood with his handsbehind him, drowsily blinking at the unexpected visitor.
"Are you the innkeeper?" asked Gaston curtly.
"Yes, M'sieu," replied the other with great deliberation.
"I shall want a good room for the night, and a well-cooked supper. Seeto it at once."
Mine host's placidity gave way somewhat at these peremptory orders,which were accompanied by a loud and significant tapping of a whipacross a riding boot. But the placidity did not yield to eagerness,only to a certain effort at sulky protest, as Gaston, having mountedthe steps, now stood facing him in his own doorway.
"My house is full, M'sieu . . ." he began.
"I am on the King's business," shouted Gaston now with angryimpatience, "so none of this nonsense. Understand?"
Evidently mine host not only understood, but thought it best to obeywith as good grace as he could muster. He stepped aside still somewhatgrudgingly, and allowed Gaston de Stainville to enter: but he did notcondescend to bow nor did he bid M'sieu the visitor welcome in hishouse.
Gaston however was not minded to notice the fat man's sulky temper.The moodiness of provincial innkeepers had become proverbial inFrance; they seemed to look upon all guests, who brought money intotheir pockets, as arrogant intruders, and treated them accordingly.
"See to a decent supper at once," repeated de Stainville now with thatperemptoriness which he knew would alone ensure civility, "and send awench into my room to see that it is properly aired, and that cleanlinen is put upon the bed."
The warning was no doubt necessary, judging by the appearance of theroom in which Gaston now found himself. It was low and stuffy in theextreme. He was conscious of nothing else for the moment, as only twodiminutive windows, hermetically closed, admitted a tiny modicum oflight through four dirty and thick panes of rough glass. On the leftthere was a door evidently leading to another and larger room fromwhich--as this door was ajar--came the sound of voices and alsosuffocating gusts of very pungent tobacco.
Obviously there was some light and air in that further room, whereashere it seemed to Gaston as if only cave-dwellers and moles could liveand breathe.
"You had best serve my supper in there," he said, pointing with hisriding whip toward that half-open door, and without waiting for theprotests which mine host was obviously preparing himself to make, hestrode boldly toward it and pushed it fully open.
The place was certainly very different to the one which he had justquitted. The floor was strewn with clean white sand, and, though theair was thick with the fumes of that same pungent tobacco, whichalready had offended Gaston's nostrils, it was not hopelesslyunpleasant, as the deep and square oriel window at the extreme end ofthis long, low room was wide open, freely admitting the sweet, saltbreeze which blew straight from the English Channel; affording too--asGaston had originally surmised--a magnificent view of a panorama whichembraced the mouth of the Seine, the rough harbour and tiny jetty,with the many small craft lying at anchor on the calm bosom of theriver, and the graceful schooners and majestic three-deckers furtheraway, all lit by the slanting rays of the slowly-sinking sun.
Gaston, without hesitation, walked straight up to a bench and trestletable, which to his pleasurable surprise he found was unoccupied.These were just inside the bay of the window, and he deliberatelyplaced his hat, coat and whip upon the table in token that he tookpossession of it. Then he once more turned to mine host, who, muchtorn between respect for a man who travelled on the King's business--anobleman mayhap--and pride of peasant at contact with an unwelcomevisitor, had slowly followed Gaston, lolling with that peculiar gaitwhich betrays the ex-sailor whilst firm if deferential protest waswrit all over his rubicund countenance.
Jean Marie Palisson was born at Le Havre; he had been _armateur_ erethe welcome death of a relative put him in possession of the mostfrequented inn in the town together with a very comfortablecompetence, and the best furnished cellars this side of Rouen. Hegreatly resented the appearance of a stranger in the midst of hisusual habitues, which distinguished circle embraced M. le Generalcommanding the fortress, M. the Military Governor of the port, M. theCivil Governor of the town, MM. the commanders on His Majesty's ships,not to speak of M. le Maire, and M. le Depute of the Parliament ofRouen, in fact all the notabilities and dignitaries of the town andthe harbour.
These gentlemen were wont to assemble in this the best room of "LesTrois Matelots" at five o'clock, "l'heure de l'aperitif," wheneau-de-vie, punch or mulled wine were consumed, in order to coaxrecalcitrant appetites to a pleasurable anticipation of supper. It wasan understood thing, between the worthy Jean Marie Palisson and hisdistinguished customers, that no strangers were to be admitted withinthis inner sanctum, save by the vote of the majority, nor had it everoccurred before that any one had thus forced an entrance past thatmagic door which mine host guarded with jealous care.
Now when Gaston thus arrogantly took possession of the best table inthe best portion of the best room in "Les Trois Matelots," Jean Mariewas so taken aback, and so awed by the masterfulness which could riseto such complete disregard of the etiquette pertaining to the socialcircles of Le Havre, that he found himself unable to do aught butshrug his broad shoulders at intervals, and blink his beady eyes intoken of helpless distress.
And this in spite of the fact that several pairs of eyebrows werelifted in token of pained surprise.
Gaston was equally unconscious of the disapproval which his entry hadevoked, as of Jean Marie's want of alacrity in his service. When heentered, he noted that the several occupants of the room weregentlemen like himself, and he always felt thoroughly at home andunabashed amongst his kind: as for the landlord of a tumbledownprovincial inn, Gaston thought him quite unworthy of close attention.He sat himself down on the edge of the table, dangling one well-bootedleg with easy nonchalance, and from this elevated position he surveyedleisurely and with no small amount of impertine
nce, the company thereassembled. He had scarce time to note the scowling looks of haughtydisapproval which were levelled at him from every side, when the doorwas vigorously pushed open and an aggressively cheerful young man,loud of voice, jocose of manner, boisterously entered the room.
"Par ma foi! my worthy Jean Marie," he said in stentorian tones, "isthis the latest fashion in Le Havre? the host not at the door toreceive his guests? . . . He! . . ." he added, suddenly realizing thepresence of a stranger in the room, "whom have we here?"
But already, at the first words uttered by the newcomer, Gaston deStainville had jumped to his feet, and as soon as the young man ceasedtalking, he went forward to greet him.
"None other than Gaston de Stainville, my good Mortemar, and pleasedindeed to look into a friend's face."
"Gaston de Stainville!" exclaimed the other gaily, "_par tous lesdiables!_ but this is a surprise! Who would have thought to see youin this damned and God-forsaken hole!"
"The King's business, my good Mortemar," said Gaston, "and if you'llforgive me I'll see to it at once and then we'll sup together, eh?. . . Palsambleu! and I who thought I'd die of ennui during thisenforced halt on this lonely shore."
"Ennui? perish the thought! Gentlemen," added the young Comte deMortemar, with a graceful flourish of the arm which embraced theentire company, "allow me to present unto you the most accomplishedcavalier of the day, whom I have the honour to call my friend, andwhom I hope we will all have the honour to call our guest to-night, M.le Comte Gaston Amede de Stainville."
Gaston had no cause now to complain of want of welcome. Once thestranger duly accredited and presented by a member of the intimatecircle, he was cheered to the echo. Every one rose to greet him, manypressed forward to shake him by the hand: the presence of a cavalierof Versailles with all the Court gossip, the little intrigues, thelaughable anecdotes which he would of necessity bring with him wasindeed a veritable God-send to the little official world of Le Havre,who spent most of its life in mortal ennui.
"As for thee, my good Jean Marie," now interposed Mortemar with mockseverity, "let me tell thee at once that if within an hour this tablehere doth not groan under the weight of the finest and best cookedcapon that Normandy can produce, neither I nor these gentlemen herewill e'er darken thy doors again. What say you, gentlemen?"
There was loudly expressed assent, accompanied by much laughter andvigorous clinking of pewter mugs against the deal tables.
"And in the meanwhile," continued Mortemar, who seemed to have takenthe lead in this general desire to bid the visitor a substantialwelcome, "a bowl of punch with half a glass of eau-de-vie and a dozenprunes soaked in kirsch therein. Never fear, friend Stainville," headded, slapping Gaston boisterously on the shoulder, "I tell you minehost knows how to brew a bowl of punch, which will send you reelingunder one of his tables in less than half an hour."
A round of applause greeted this cheerful sally.
"Nay, in that case," said Gaston, on whom the strenuous fatigues ofthe day were telling severely after the preliminary excitement ofarrival, "I'll to my business, ere your good cheer, friend, render mequite helpless."
"Perish the thought of business," retorted Mortemar. "Your head in abucket of cold water after the punch, and you can meet the most astutenotary on even ground and beat him at his own game. The punch, knave!"he shouted to the fat landlord, "the punch, this instant, M. le Comtede Stainville is wearied and is waiting for refreshment."
But Gaston's frame of mind was far too grave, his purpose far tooimportant, to allow himself to be led into delaying business withCaptain Barre a moment longer than was necessary. Mortemar and hisconvivial friends could not know that half a million livres would bethe price paid for that bowl of punch, since it might mean an hour'scarousing and the full of dusk before _Le Monarque_ received herorders. He was deadly fatigued undoubtedly, faint too from the heatand want of proper food, but when money was at stake Gaston deStainville always displayed an enthusiasm and an amount of courageousendurance worthy of a better cause.
"A thousand thanks, my good Mortemar, and to you all, gentlemen," henow said courteously but firmly, "do not, I beseech you, think mechurlish if I must momentarily refuse your kind hospitality. One glassof eau-de-vie to give me a modicum of strength, and I must to mybusiness first. Gentlemen, I see by your coats that most of you servethe King in some capacity or other, you know as well as I do that thelaws which govern the King's commands cannot be broken. I will not begone long, half an hour at most; after that I am at your commands, andwill be the most grateful as well as the most joyous of you all."
"Well spoken, friend Stainville," declared Mortemar "and you, JeanMarie, serve a small refreshment to M. le Comte immediately. Nay,friend," he added pleasantly, "I fear I have been importunate . . .'twas the joy of seeing so elegant a cavalier grace this unhallowedspot."
Every one nodded approval; as Gaston had surmised, there weresoldiers, sailors there present, all of whom understood duty andobedience to the King's commands.
"Perhaps some of us could be of assistance to M. le Comte deStainville," suggested a grave gentleman who wore His Majesty'scolours. "If he is a stranger at Le Havre he might be glad of help."
"Indeed well said," spoke another; "could one of us here accompany youanywhere, Monsieur le Comte?"
"I am more than grateful, gentlemen," replied Gaston, to whom the hostwas even now offering a cup of mulled wine. He drank the liquor atone draught, then set down the cup ere he spoke further:
"And gladly will I accept these kindly offers of assistance," he nowsaid. "I am indeed a stranger here, and did feel doubtful how I couldmost speedily accomplish my business. I must have speech with CaptainBarre, gentlemen, commanding His Majesty's ship _Le Monarque_ and thatwith as little delay as possible. . . ."
To his intense astonishment he was interrupted by a ringing laugh fromhis friend Mortemar.
"Nay, then my good Stainville," said the lively young man, "you'llhave plenty of time for that bowl of punch, aye! and for getting rightroyally drunk and fully sober again if your business is with CaptainBarre."
"What do you mean?" queried Gaston with a sudden frown.
"_Le Monarque_ sailed out of Le Havre an hour ago; methinks you canstill see her sails against the evening sun."
And the young man pointed through the open window out toward the West.Mechanically Gaston's eyes followed the direction in which his friendpointed. There, far away in the mist-laden distance, a gracefulthree-decker, with sails unfurled, was distinctly visible in the glowof the setting sun. She was gaily riding the waves, the softsouth-easterly breeze having carried her swiftly and lightly alreadyfar out to sea.
Gaston felt an awful dizziness in his head. An icy sweat broke outupon his brow, he passed a hand across his eyes for he did not feelthat he could trust them.
"That is not _Le Monarque_," he murmured.
"By my faith, but it is," said Mortemar, a little perturbed, for hehad not thought to be conveying evil news. "I was bidding her captain'God-speed' myself little more than an hour ago. A gallant sailor, anda personal friend," he added, "and he seemed mighty glad to get on theway."
"Whither was he bound?" asked Gaston mechanically.
"Nay! that I do not know. Barre had received secret orders only anhour before he started. . . ."
But now Gaston felt his senses reeling.
"She must be stopped! . . . she must be stopped!" he shouted wildly."I have orders for her . . . she must be stopped, at any cost!"
And breaking through the compact group of his newly found friends hemade a wild dash for the door.
But the excitement, the terrible keenness of this disappointment hadbeen too much for him, after the strenuous fatigues and theoverpowering heat of the day. The dizziness turned to an intolerablefeeling of sickness, the walls of the room spun round and round him,he felt as if a stunning blow had been dealt him on the head, and witha final shriek of "Stop her!" he staggered and would have fallenheadlong, but that a pair of willing arms were th
ere to break hisfall.