CHAPTER XI
THE LAW OF THE LAND
The driver pulled up his horses when Herrick hailed him.
"Are you going into the city?"
"Ay."
"Care to take a passenger?"
"Ay."
"A paying passenger?" said Herrick.
"Ay; they're the sort I care most about."
Herrick climbed up on to the wagon, which was loaded with straw.
"There's for fare," he said, putting money into the driver's hand asthe horses moved slowly on again.
The man looked at it.
"I'll take you in and bring you out for this, if you like, and you'vea mind to wait while I unload the straw."
"I don't want to come out again," said Herrick. "It's the getting inthat's the difficulty. I'm for the new Duke, and there are some whoplot against him. I might be stopped at the gate. I propose to lieburied in this straw, and once in the city, I will drop out of thewagon. Will you do me the service?"
The man looked at Herrick doubtfully and then at the money.
"But if there's trouble at the gate and they find you?" he said.
"Then I have climbed up into the wagon as you came along, and youdidn't know it. I warrant you've often given an unconscious lift to afree passenger that way."
"Ay; that's true. I'll do it," the driver answered, putting the moneyin his pocket. "Get you down in the straw."
They lumbered presently over the bridge, and were passing through thegate when the wagon stopped.
"Where from?" a voice asked.
"Farmer Jacques."
"That's a road that goes toward Passey, isn't it?"
"Ay."
"Met any soldier on the road this morning?"
"No."
"Nor a priest?"
"No. If you want a priest there's one up the street yonder."
"Only straw in your wagon?"
"Ay. Taking it to a man in the Place Beauvoisin. I go there with aload every month."
Then the wagon began to move again and to jolt over rough, cobbledstreets. For some time Herrick did not move, but presently lifted hishead cautiously to see where they were going, and to choose a momentwhen he might drop from the wagon without attracting undue attention.To do so unseen would be impossible, for at this hour of the day therewere many people in the streets. Herrick chose a busy corner. Therewas nothing really remarkable in a man leaving a wagon as it lumberedslowly along. The chief risk was that some one had had his suspicionsaroused at the gate, and had followed. Herrick dropped carelessly intothe roadway close to an alley that led out of the main street, andwhich he immediately made for. He wanted to take his bearings; healso wanted a hat. The sooner he could lose himself in the life of thestreets the better. Fortunately he was well provided with money,thanks to the dwarf, and he decided to take a lodging at somethird-rate cafe. He had formed no plans as yet beyond thedetermination to get into the castle, and into the presence of CountFelix somehow. Friend Jean might certainly help him so far, andpresently he would go to St. Etienne and look for him. What was tohappen when he did succeed in seeing Count Felix he had not thoughtabout. So far fortune had favored him, and to fortune he trusted thefuture.
The alley ran between a row of dilapidated dwellings, into which onestepped down by two deep steps, and a blank wall. A few dirty childrenwere playing in the doorways, but took no notice of him. He had nearlyreached the farther end, which opened into another busy street, when ahand was suddenly laid upon his shoulder. Herrick turned sharply,ready to fight for his liberty if need be.
The man he faced smiled.
"I am a friend," he said, "who knows you are in danger in Vayenne."
"What do you know of me?"
"I was looking for a priest who was with Mademoiselle de Liancourt'sescort. Wisely you are a priest no longer. There is an order to arrestall priests entering Vayenne."
"Well, sir, and what then?"
"Some of these children are watching us," was the answer. "There isanger in your face, and they hope to see fighting between us. We arefriends, let us walk on."
"I have no proof of your friendship," said Herrick, walking on withthe man.
"You would serve Mademoiselle de Liancourt, surely that is why youhave returned to Vayenne. I would serve her also. I pray you trust mesufficiently to bear me company. If you are minded, as I believe youare, to strike a blow at Count Felix, who already makes preparationsfor his coronation, I have power to help you."
Herrick walked on for a few moments in silence. At the best this couldonly be an attempt to allure him into some plot against the Duke,which was probably more one of secret clamor than open action; yet hemight learn something of the support a rising against the Count coulddepend on. At the worst--he pressed his hand to his side, and felt therevolver there.
"First help me to a new hat; I draw attention by going bare-headed,"he said.
"That is easy; and afterward?"
"My good friend, I do not enter Vayenne in this fashion without havingfriends in the city. I warrant any hurt to me would be amply paid for.I will go with you, and treat you as a friend until I know that youare otherwise; then----"
"Ah! leave all threatening for your enemies," the man answered. "Youwill find plenty of them."
The hat purchased, a soft one that he could draw down to conceal hisface a little, Herrick went with his companion, carefully noting theway they took. For the most part it was by by-streets, and not theshortest way to their destination; but presently they came out closeto the Church of St. Etienne. The carillon burst forth as they crossedby the great west doors set deep in a very lacework of stone, andceased as they passed into the Rue St. Romain. Herrick's guidestopped and knocked at a small postern there, which was openedimmediately by a man in a cassock, who, without a word, stood back tolet them enter, and then closed the door.
"Will you wait here a moment, monsieur?" said his companion, leadingHerrick into a small, barely furnished room. "I will returnimmediately."
He left the door open, as though he would emphasize his perfectconfidence, but Herrick noted that the man in the cassock who hadadmitted them remained in the passage. A sudden movement Herrick madecaused him to glance round quickly. He was evidently there by designto watch, and Herrick pressed his hand upon his revolver again.
In a few minutes his guide returned, and led him along the passage andup a flight of stairs. He paused before a door there, knocked, and,after waiting for a moment, opened it and motioned Herrick to enter.He did not enter with him, but closed the door, and was immediatelyjoined by the man in the cassock. With a nod of comprehension to eachother they took up their positions on either side of the door, analertness in their attitude which argued ill for Herrick should heattempt to leave that room against their will.
Herrick walked boldly into the room, unconscious that his companionwas not following him. His attention was immediately arrested by theman who rose from his seat at the table and came to meet him.
"I welcome a brave man," he said.
"This is not our first meeting," Herrick answered. "You were at theCroix Verte on the night I arrived in Vayenne. You are FatherBertrand."
"I am," said the priest, motioning his visitor to a seat. "You canhardly know much concerning me beyond my identity."
"Very little more," said Herrick. "Subsequent events have made meremember a few words overheard at the Croix Verte that night which Itook little notice of at the time."
"That is natural," the priest answered. "And you have assumed that weare both bent in helping the same cause."
"Captain Lemasle was at the Croix Verte with you. I saw him again atPassey. I found him honest, and I judge a man's companions are of hisown choosing and after his own heart."
"I hope to prove myself a suitable comrade for so worthy a captain."And it was difficult to tell whether there was contempt in thepriest's tone or whether he spoke in his usual manner. "Rumor has beenbusy with both of you in the last few hours, if, as I suppose, youwere the 'priest' who fou
ght beside Captain Lemasle."
"Rumor often finds it difficult to substantiate her tales," saidHerrick, who was not inclined to admit anything until he understoodhis position more exactly.
"You are both to be arrested, and this I take to mean a short shriftand speedy closing of accounts. Justice in Montvilliers is inclined tobe barbarous."
"Justice!" said Herrick.
"I am not considering the point of view," said the priest, with asmile. "Yours is the greater danger, for Lemasle has friends. You werereceived as a spy at the outset, and have no friends in Vayenne."
"I understood that I was brought here to find some," Herrick answered."Besides, I have friends in this city."
"You mean those who helped you to escape from the South Tower?"
"That was a simple matter," said Herrick carelessly.
"Yes, Monsieur Herrick?" said the priest inquiringly after a shortpause.
"Naturally I do not betray my friends," was the answer.
Father Bertrand smiled again, perhaps to hide his annoyance that hisvisitor would not speak more openly. He had so constantly found hissuave manner a key to open hearts and loosen tongues, that he mightwell be disappointed now.
"Something more than your name is known to me, Monsieur Herrick--that,of course, was easy to ascertain--but first let me ask you one or twoquestions."
"I cannot promise to answer them."
"Where is the young Duke Maurice?"
"I do not know."
"Is he dead?"
"That I do not know."
"And Mademoiselle de Liancourt and this Captain Lemasle?"
"I last saw them in the forest which lies on the main road to Passey,"Herrick answered.
"You do not look like a man who would lie," said the priest, regardinghim intently.
Herrick inclined his head at the compliment. His answers were strictlytrue; he did not feel himself called upon to enter into explanations.
"Tell me, what made you come to Vayenne--originally, I mean?" said thepriest after another pause.
"I came as any traveller might. From childhood Vayenne has always hada fascination for me. Long ago I determined to visit it some day, andtruly it has treated me very scurvily thus far."
"Why this fascination?"
"Indeed, I cannot tell, but I do know it is being speedily cured,"Herrick answered.
"And why have you returned to Vayenne now?"
"I hardly know," laughed Herrick. "The whim of an Englishman to seethe game to the end. I might have been wiser to ride to the frontierwhile I had the chance."
"Perhaps; yet who shall say? Providence, or circumstance, call it whatyou will, determines these matters. I, too, have schemed, my son,schemed to bring about this very meeting, and after all it comes in astrange manner. It was I who on the night of your arrival arranged tohave you captured--no, not as a spy, I never thought of that. I onlywanted you brought here."
"Why not have invited me to come?" asked Herrick, who, althoughastonished at the priest's admission, would not show it.
"I did not know why you had come to Vayenne. I had reasons to besuspicious."
"I cannot congratulate you on your method," said Herrick. "Yourfellows nearly succeeded in getting me hanged on the nearest lamp."
"You put such wholesome fear in them that they acted foolishly. One isstill in his bed getting his bones mended, the other----"
"Faith, I'll give him some mending to do if he but gives me thechance."
"Poor Mercier," said Father Bertrand; "and you seem to have treatedhim in friendly fashion to-day."
"Was that he? The man who brought me here?"
"You may be anxious to thank him presently. That night," the priestwent on, "I went to the castle, to your cell. I should have proved youwere no spy, but you had gone. For the second time this interview wasdelayed."
"And this third time?" queried Herrick.
"Circumstances have changed. Duke Maurice is reported dead, isbelieved to be dead; you have said yourself that you do not knowwhether he is dead or alive. At such a time events happen quickly.Preparation is already active. Felix will be Duke, and oncecrowned----"
"That shall not be," said Herrick.
"How will you prevent it?"
Father Bertrand snapped out the question, and leaned forward, waitingfor the answer. His whole attitude had changed. There was a tensenessabout him that seemed subtly to convey itself into Herrick's blood.
"Show me the way," he said, leaning forward in his turn as eagerly asthe priest had done.
"There is a mirror yonder, Monsieur Herrick," said the priest, risingsuddenly. "If you have forgotten what manner of man you are, look init."
Herrick had risen as the priest rose, and almost unconsciously turnedto look at his own reflection. While he did so, he heard the rattle ofa curtain being sharply drawn aside, and turned to see the priestpointing to a picture which the curtain had concealed until now.
"Do you know that face?" he asked.
"Surely, my grandmother--my mother's mother," said Herrick inastonishment.
"The likeness of the face in the mirror to this face leaves no doubtof close relationship. It is a distinctive face, as sometimes happensin families; it cannot be hidden. I recognized it in an instant whenI saw you at the Croix Verte. That lady, your grandmother, was sisterto Robert VI. of Montvilliers. You did not know that?"
"No. I only knew that she was a foreigner, a lady of rank, who wascontent to become the wife of an English country gentleman."
"Were it not for the law of this land, which forbids the throne todescendants of the female line, your grandmother, or, failing her,your mother, would have been Duchess of Montvilliers. There have beentimes when the people have been inclined to do away with this law.There are some now who would do away with it in favor of Christine deLiancourt. I have been tempted to wish it done away with. Herdetermination is fixed, however; she will keep to the very letter ofthe law, and lest she should loom too prominently in this matter, itis her whim to use none of her many titles, but to be called simplyMademoiselle de Liancourt."
"You mean that you would plot to do away with this law now?" askedHerrick after a pause.
"The breaking of a law which has been long established, and has workedfor the general good, is not wise, my son," answered Father Bertrand,going to the table and unfolding a rough pedigree chart there. "Thiswill show my meaning clearer. Here, you see, is Robert IV., dyingwithout issue; Charles, his brother, who predeceased him; and Marie,his sister, your grandmother. On the death of Robert the crown went toPhilip I., his cousin, and at his death to his son, a dissolute man,who was deposed in favor of Robert VII., the old Duke who lies waitingburial in the castle yonder. The deposed Duke, Philip II., diedsuddenly in the South Tower. He had no friends to assist him toescape, and plenty of enemies to help him to his death. Robert's elderbrother Charles died before Robert seized the throne, leaving onechild, Christine de Liancourt. A younger brother, Conrad, died a fewyears since. Felix is his son."
"Had Duke Robert no claim to the throne?" asked Herrick.
"You can trace it here," said Father Bertrand, pointing the descentwith his finger; "through the male line all along you note until wecome to Robert II., who had many children, of whom only the eldest andyoungest survived--the eldest being the ancestor of your mother, theyoungest of Duke Robert. This was the Duke's claim, and putting asidethe deposition of Philip II., for which the people had no quarrel withhim, a righteous claim but for one fact. You see what this youngestson was called."
"Called The Bastard," Herrick read from the chart.
"Nicknamed so in his own day," said the priest. "His father's love fora young girl in his old age has entered into the regions of romance inthis country. You may find ballads which it has inspired. No one hasever doubted the story until it pleased the people to forget it whenthey made Robert Duke. Do you understand how the matter stands?"
"The story goes back so far, it may well be forgotten," Herrickanswered.
"If Maur
ice came to the throne, yes; but not if Felix is the heir. Thelaw which forbids women to reign in Montvilliers, and under ordinaryconditions excludes even their male descendants, has one importantprovision which is this: that failing a direct male heir, the sonthrough the female line shall inherit."
"Then?"
Father Bertrand glanced at the picture from which the curtain had beenwithdrawn, and then looked again at his visitor.
"Have I made it quite clear to Roger Herrick, the real Duke ofMontvilliers?" he said slowly.