CHAPTER XIII.
A MIDNIGHT COUNCIL
The Bearnais met D'Epernon in the inner dining-room of Master Anthony'shouse. His servants had hastily lighted a few wax candles. In thewaggon-littered courtyard without, a torch or two flamed murkily. With aquick burst of anger, Henry leaned from a window and bade them beextinguished. So, with a jetting of sparks on the hard-beaten earth ofthe courtyard, the darkness suddenly re-established itself.
There was, on the side of the Duke, some attempt at a battle of eyes.But, after all, he had only been the little scion of a Languedoceansquire when the Bearnais was already--the Bearnais.
The Duke bowed himself as if to set knee to the ground, but Henry caughthim up.
"Caumont," he said, using the old boyish name by which they had knowneach other in their wild Paris youth, "you have never liked me. You havenever been truly my friend. Why do you come to seek me now?"
The busy scheming brain behind the Valois favourite's brow was working.He had a bluff subject to deal with, therefore he would be bluff.
"Your Majesty," he said, "there is no one in all France who wishesbetter to your cause, or more ill to the League than I. When you areKing, you shall have no more faithful or obedient subject. Butfriendship, like love, is born of friendship; it comes not by command.When the King of Navarre makes me his friend, I shall be his!"
"Spoken like a man, and no courtier," cried the Bearnais, slapping hisstrong hand into the white palm of D'Epernon with a report like apistol; "I swear I shall be your friend till the day I die!"
And the Bearnais kept his word, and gave his friendship all his life tothe dark, scheming, handsome man, who had served many masters in histime, but had never loved any man save himself, any woman except hiswife, and any interest outside of his own pocket.
The soldiers of the Guard Royal made a rhyme which went not ill in thepatois of the camp, but which goes lamely enough translated intoEnglish. Somewhat thus it ran:
"Duke Epernon and his wife, Jean Caumont and his wife, Cadet Valette and his Cadette, Louis Nogaret and _his_ wife-- If ever I wagered I would bet My pipe, my lass, and eke my life, That this brave world was made and set _For Duke Epernon and his wife-- Jean Caumont and his wife, Louis Nogaret and his wife, Cadet Valette and his Cadette!_"
And so _Da Capo_--to any tune which happened to occur to them in theirsemi-regal license of King's free guardsmen.
Which was only the barrack and guard-room way of saying that Jean Louisde Nogaret, Cadet de la Valette, Duc d'Epernon and royal favourite,looked after the interests of a certain important numeral with somecare.
"Caumont," said the King of Navarre, "how came you to know I was in thistown? I arrived but an hour ago, and in disguise."
"Our spies are better than Your Majesty's," smiled the Duke. "Your trueCalvinist is something too stiff in the backbone to make a capableinformer. You ought to employ a few supple Politiques, accustomed topalace backstairs. But, on this occasion, I acknowledge I was favouredby circumstances. For I have with me the daughter of Francis the Scot,called Francis d'Agneau, born, I believe, of a Norman house longestablished in Scotland near to the Gulf of Solway. Among thesaddle-bags of the damsel's pony, hastily concealed by other hands thanher own (I suspect a certain red-haired fool), there was found a seriesof letters written by Your Majesty, which, in case they might fall intoworse hands, I have the honour of returning to you. Also we found anappointment for this very night, to meet with Francis the Scot at thetown of Blois in the house of Anthony Arpajon! Your Majesty has, as theLeaguers know, a habit of uncomfortable punctuality in the keeping ofyour trysts. So I have availed me of that to confide the letters and themaid to you, together with a good Doctor of the Sorbonne, one who hasdone you no mean service to the honest cause in that wasps' nest--sogood, indeed, that if he went back, the Leaguers of his own hive wouldsting him to death. Therefore I commit them all to you! Only the youngman I would gladly keep by me. But that shall be as Your Majestyjudges."
"No, no," cried the King. "I must have my cousin, if only to look after.If the Leaguers get hold of him, he might gain a throne, indeed, butassuredly he would lose his head. He is a fine lad, and will do verywell in the fighting line when Rosny has licked him a little intoshape! But I am truly grateful to you, D'Epernon. And in the good timesto come, I shall have better ways of proving my gratitude than here, inthe house of Anthony Arpajon and in the guise of a carter."
This was all that D'Epernon had been waiting for, and he promptly bowedhimself out. The instant the Duke was through the door, the Bearnaisturned to the little circle of his immediate followers.
"Who of you knows the town and Chateau of Blois? It might be worth whilefollowing the fellow, just to see if any treachery be in the wind. Itmay be I do him wrong. If so, I shall do him the greater righthereafter. No, not you, D'Aubigne. I could not risk you. You are myfather-confessor, and task me soundly with my faults. Indeed, I might aswell be a Leaguer--they say the Cardinal sets more easy penances.Brother Guise is the true Churchman--he and the King of Spain!"
The King looked about from one to another doubtfully, seeking a fitenvoy.
"No, nor you, Rosny; you can fight all day, and figure all night. Butfor spying we want a lad of another build. Let me see--let me see!"
As the King was speaking, Jean-aux-Choux put on his brown Capuchin robe,and covered his red furze brush with the hood.
"I tracked my Lord of Epernon this night once before," he said, "and bythe grace of God I can do as much again. I know his trail, and will beat the orchard gate of the Chateau before he has time to blow the dustout of his key!"
"How do you come to know so much?" demanded the Bearnais.
"By this token," said Jean carelessly; "that I saw my lady here and thethree men come out of the Chateau, I followed them hither, and had yourmen roused and ready, so that if there had been any treachery, hisDukeship, at least, would have been the first to fall!"
The King looked about him inquiringly.
"Rosny and D'Aubigne," he said, "what do you know of this--does the manspeak true?"
"A pupil of John Calvin speaks no lie," said Jean bravely. The Kinglaughed, whereupon Jean added, "If I do act a lie, it is to save YourMajesty--the hope of the Faith!"
"That is rather like the old heresy of doing evil that good may come,"said Henry; "but off with you! If I can accommodate my conscience to awaggoner's blouse, I do not see why you should not reconcile yours to amonk's hood!"
Jean-aux-Choux departed, muttering to himself that the Bearnais wasbecoming as learned as a pupil of Beza or a Sorbonne Doctor, butconsoling himself for his dialectical defeat by the thought that, atleast, in the Capuchin's robe he was fairly safe. For even if caught,after all, it was only another trick of the Fool of the Three Henries.
It was, indeed, the only thing concerning which Leaguers, Royalists, andHuguenots were agreed--that Jean-aux-Choux was a good, simple fool!
The White Plumes of Navarre: A Romance of the Wars of Religion Page 14
