CHAPTER III.
There had been something a little peculiar in the way in which MasterNed had pronounced the words, "We want a little light," which, ifJargeau had remarked the curl of his lip as they were uttered, mighthave induced him to turn his horse's head toward Rochelle instead ofFontenay; for in truth the lad spoke of other than moonlight. Ned rodeon in silence, however, for some minutes, along a small road, or ratherpath, which led from the old cottage, first to a small stragglingvillage, such as is still to be seen in the Bocage and its neighborhood,and then to a place of junction with the highroad running from Marans toMauze. It was called a highroad then, God wot; but it has fallen into asecond-class way now, and was in all but name a very low road always.
Pierrot was silent too,--not that he had not a strong impulse towardeloquence upon him, but that he felt a certain confusion of thoughtwhich did not permit of seeing distinctly which was the head, which thetail, of a subject. The last draught of brandy had been a deep one. YetPierrot was practised in all the various phases of drunkenness, and ingeneral knew how to carry his liquor discreetly; but this was in factthe reason that he abstained from using his tongue, feeling an intenseconviction that it would either speak some gross nonsense, or betraysome secret, or commit some other of those lamentable blunders in whichdrunken men's tongues are wont to indulge, if he once opened his mouth.
It was not an easy task to keep quiet, it is true; and, had he not beena very experienced man, he could not have accomplished it. But thestruggle was soon brought to a conclusion; for, when they had riddenabout half a mile, Master Ned turned sharp upon him, and asked,abruptly, "What was that Jargeau said to you, just as we were comingaway, Pierrot?"
"Oh, nothing," answered Pierrot, in a muddled voice, "but to lead youright."
"Where?" demanded the lad, sternly.
"Why, to Mauze, to-be-sure," replied Pierrot.
"What a pity he gave himself such unnecessary trouble!" answered thelad, in a quiet tone: "neither you nor I go to Mauze to-night, Pierrot."
"Then where, in Satan's name, are you going?" demanded his companion,checking his horse.
"To Rochelle," replied Master Ned. "Jog on, Maitre Pierrot. It is thenext turn on the right we take, I think. Jog on, I say. Why do youstop?"
"Because I ought to go back and tell Jargeau, and ask him what I am todo," answered the other, half bewildered with drink and astonishment.
"You are to do what I tell you, and to do it at once," replied the lad;"and, if you do not, I have got a persuader here which will convince yousooner than any other argument I can use." And as he spoke he drew oneof the large horse-pistols of that day from beneath his cloak andpointed it straight at Pierrot's head. "It is the same argument thatstopped your running away and leaving us in the enemy's teeth at St.Martin's-in-Rhe," he said.
"You young devil, the ball is in my leg still," answered Pierrot. "Butthis is not fair, Master Ned. You might be right enough then, for youthought I was going to betray you; though, on my life and soul, I wasonly afraid. Now you want me to disobey those I am bound to serve, anddo not even give me a reason."
"I will give you a reason, though I have not much time, for fear thepowder in the pan should get damp," replied the boy; "but my reason isthat I was told to go to Rochelle and see Maitre Clement Tournon; andtherefore I am going. Now, in the Isle de Rhe I did not think you weregoing to betray us, and knew quite well it was mere fear; but at presentI do think Jargeau is seeking to betray me,--or mislead me, which is asbad. At all events, you have got to go with me to Rochelle, or have thelead in your head, Pierrot: so choose quickly, because you know I do notwait long for any one."
"Well, I vow you are too hard upon me, Master Ned," said Pierrot, in awhimpering tone. "You take the very bread out of my mouth and give meover to the vengeance of that cold-blooded devil Jargeau."
"You will find me a worse devil still," replied Master Ned, coldly; buteven as he spoke he fell into a fit of thought, and then added, "Listento me, Pierrot, if the brandy has left you any brains, or ears either. Iwant a man like you to go with me a long way, perhaps. It will not be Iwho pay you, for I have got little enough, as you know; but I will beyour surety that you shall be well paid as long as you serve well. Iknow you to the bottom. You are honest at heart, whether you are drunkor sober; though liquor has not the same effect upon you as upon mostmen. You are brave enough when you are sober, but a terrible coward whenyou are drunk. Now, if you like to go with me, you shall have enough tolive on, and to get drunk on, when I choose to let you get drunk."
"How often will that be?" asked Pierrot, interrupting him.
"I will make no bargain," answered the lad; "but this much I will say:you may drink whenever I do not tell you I have important business onhand. When I do tell you that, you shall taste nothing stronger thanwater."
"Good! good!" said Pierrot: "strong water you mean, of course."
"Well-water," said the lad, sharply. "But, remember, I am not to betrifled with. As to Jargeau, I will take care he does nothing to injureyou. If it be as I think, I have got his head under my belt, and he willsoon know that it is so. Now choose quickly, for we have stood here toolong."
"Well, I'll go," said Pierrot; "but I am terribly afraid of thatJargeau. However, your pistol is nearest; and so I'll go. I know you arenot to be trifled with, well enough; but I must find some way of lettingJargeau know I have left him. It would be a shame to go without tellinghim, you know, Master Ned."
"We shall find means enough in Rochelle of sending him word," answeredthe lad, putting up his pistol and resuming his journey.
Pierrot followed with sundry half-articulate grunts; but he appearedsoon to recover both good humor and spirits, for ere they had gone halfa mile he burst forth into song, broken and irregular indeed, now ascrap from one lay, now from another; but, at all events, the musicseemed to show that no very heavy thing was resting on his mind. Hisrambling scraps of old ditties ran somewhat as follows:--
"Whither go you on this dark, dark night, Wayfaring cavalier? Go you to love, or go you to fight? Either is better by clear moonlight, Venturous cavalier.
"By my life, the moon is beginning to break through,--though how shewill manage it I don't know; for there is mud enough in yonder sky toswallow up the tallest horse I ever rode.
"Oh, tell-tale moon, You are up too soon For the long train of kisses yet on the way. Your eyes so bright Make all the world light: We might just as well kiss in the full of the day.
"She has got behind the cloud again. Moons and maidens don't know theirown minds.
"Katy went to the cupboard-door, Ah, Katy, Katy! What want you in your grandam's store? Cunning little Katy.
"She went quietly over the floor: Fie, Katy, Katy! No use of the lock, no use of the door, Against that little Katy.
"She's put away her own little snood: Fie, little Katy! She has got on her grandmother's hood: Can that be pretty Katy?
"She has opened the back door into the wood: Beware! Katy, Katy; Such sly marches never bode good To any little Katy.
"But there's a priest with the yeoman tall: Is that it, little Katy? And now she is wedded and bedded and all, And no more little Katy."
The concluding stanzas, if they were neither very excellent nor verytender, were at least an indication that his mind was settling down intoa calmer state than when he began. They were connected, at all events;and continuity of thought is a great approach to reason, which dwellethnot in the brains of any man together with much brandy. The finer spiritwas, therefore, apparently getting the better of the coarser; and MasterNed thought the time was come for him to take advantage of the change ofdynasty and see whether he could not obtain some advantage from the newruler.
"Well, Pierrot," he said, "this is a very pretty business you have beenengaged in. After having had the honor of serving the King of Englandand fig
hting for the liberty of the Protestants of France, you have beenpersuaded to aid in trying to betray me into the hands of the enemy,though you did not know that I might not be the bearer of importantmessages to your own people."
"Whew!" cried Pierrot, with a long whistle. Now, whistles mean all kindsof things, from the ostracism of a play-house gallery to the signal oflove or housebreaking; but the whistle of good Pierrot was decidedly awhistle of astonishment, and so Master Ned interpreted it.
"Do not affect ignorance or surprise, Pierrot," he said: "that will notdo with me. Jargeau is a traitor: that is clear."
"Well, well, Master Ned," interposed his companion, "you are a mightysharp lad, beyond question; but sometimes you ride your horse too fast,notwithstanding. Just stop a bit till my head gets a little--a verylittle bit--clearer, and I'll set you right. As you think the matterworse than it is, I may as well show you it is better. I don't mean tosay they did not want to trick you; but not the way you fancy."
"Why, are not all the towns round in the hands of the Papists?" askedthe lad. "We have had that news in England for the last four months."
"No, no, no," answered Pierrot: "the Papists may have the upper hand inmost of them, it is true; but stop a bit, and I'll tell you all clearly.Your long pistol half sobered me; and when I can get to a spring and putmy head in, that will wash out the rest of the brandy. It is of no usegiving you a muddled tale."
"Take care you do not make one up," answered Master Ned. "I shall findyou out in five minutes."
Pierrot laughed. "I'd as soon try to cheat the devil," he said. "But letus ride on. There is a well just where the roads cross, and it willserve my turn. Brandy is a fine thing, but a mighty poor counsellor."
The lad followed the suggestion, for he did not wish to give hiscompanion too much time to think, and, urging their horses on, in aboutfive minutes they reached the spot where two highways crossed, and wherea large stone trough received the waters of a beautiful and plentifulspring, affording solace to many a weary and thirsty horse in those daysof saddle-travelling. There Pierrot dismounted, slowly and deliberately,for he could not precisely ascertain to what extent he retained abalancing power till his feet touched the ground. With more directnessof purpose, however, than could have been expected, he made his way tothe trough, and, kneeling down, plunged his head once or twice into thecool water. He then rose, with his long rugged black hair stillstreaming; and, after the horses had been suffered to drink, the twotravellers resumed their way. The moon by this time had completelyscattered the clouds; glimpses of dark-blue sky appeared between thebroken masses, and the keen eye of the young lad could mark everychange in the expression of Pierrot's face as he went on.
"Now, Master Ned," he said, "I think my noddle has got clear enough ofthe fumes to let you know something of what people have been about here,which you do not know rightly, I can see. Rochelle is going to be takenby the Catholics: that's clear to me."
"Unless the great Duke of Buckingham drive the Catholics beyond theLoire, it must be taken," answered the lad. "You can never stand againstall France. But what makes you give up hope, Pierrot?"
"First, the King of France, and his devil of a Cardinal, are drawingtogether a great army all around us," answered Pierrot,--"a greater armythan ever approached Rochelle before. That we could manage to resist,perhaps. But then they are going very coolly to work fortifying everytown and well-pitched village of the Papists within fifty miles of thecity, and filling them with soldiers, so that every egg that comes tomarket will have to be fought for. Well, that we could perhaps managetoo, for we could get supplies from England. But look here, Master Ned:there are two parties in Rochelle. Our best lords and wisest citizens,our chief generals and captains, know well that our only hope is in thesupport of England; but there is a more numerous, if not a stronger,party, who do not like your great duke, would have nothing to do withyour good country, and would have us stand alone and fight it out byourselves. One of their chief men is Jargeau."
"I see," said the lad. "But what did he seek by trying to entrap me togo to Mauze?"
"First, your letters were likely either to fall into the hands of theCatholics, and, by showing how firmly Rochelle could count upon Englishhelp, frighten them and make them reasonable," answered Pierrot, "or,secondly, they might fall into the hands of Miguet and his otherfriends, who would take care they should never reach their destination.That was the plan, Master Ned."
"And not a bad plan, either," answered the other, thoughtfully,"supposing I had any letters. But, as you say, Rochelle is in a badway; for, if her leaders are afraid to let each other know their exactposition and what they may count upon, she is a house divided againstherself, and cannot stand. But what made Jargeau think I had letters?Nobody told him so, I think."
"No; but they told him you would have messages for our principalpeople," answered Pierrot,--adding, not unwilling, perhaps, to show alittle scorn for one whose strong will had exercised what may be calledan unnatural ascendency over him more than once, "and Jargeau neverbelieved that they would trust messages to such a young boy as you."
"He must have thought my memory very bad," replied the lad, "not to beable to carry a message from England to France. But my memory is not sobad, good Pierrot, as he may find some day. At all events, if Rochelleis to be lost by the intrigues of a man who does not choose his comradesto know where succor lies when they like to seek it, all the world shallknow who ruined a good cause. But I suppose, Pierrot, all he told me ofthe meeting of the Reformed leaders at Mauze was a mere lure."
"No, no; it is all true," answered Pierrot. "The prince is there, andRohan, and a dozen of others; and if you could have got safe throughwithout the loss of your bags, you would have found some of those youwant; but I suppose he had provided against that. I don't know: he nevertold me; but it is likely."
"Very likely," replied Master Ned; "but you say 'some of those I want.'I only want one person; and him I must see if it be possible. Is MaitreClement Tournon in the city?"
"He is not with those in the Chateau of Mauze," replied Pierrot. "I knowlittle of him. He is a goldsmith,--a very quiet man?"
"Probably," answered the lad: "quiet men are the best friends in thisworld. So, on to Rochelle! Will they let us pass the gates at night?"
"'Tis a hard question to answer," said Pierrot. "Sometimes they are verystrict, sometimes lax enough. But it is somewhat late, young lad, and,if none of the guard is in love with moonlight, we shall find them allasleep."
"Asleep in such times as these!" exclaimed the young man.
"Why, either the Papists are trying to throw us off our guard," saidPierrot, "or they are too busy cutting off each others' heads to mindours. They have not troubled us much as yet. True, they have taken atown or two, and stopped some of our parties into the country, and begunwhat they call lines; but not a man of their armies has come withincannon-shot. And there is not much more strictness than in the times ofthe _little war_ which has been going on for the last fifty years. Butthe people in the town vary from time to time. When one man commands,the very nose of a Catholic will be fired at; and, when another is onduty, the gates will be opened to Schomberg, or the devil, or any oneelse who comes in a civil manner. But there is Rochelle peeping over thetrees yonder, just as if she had come out to see the moon shine."
"Well, then, mark me, good Pierrot," said Master Ned, "I expect you todo all you can to make them open the gates to us. You understand whatthat means, I suppose?"
"That I shall have a shot in my other leg or through my head if I donot, I presume," answered Pierrot. "But don't be afraid. When you havegiven me a crown, I shall have taken service with you; and then youknow, or ought to know, I will serve you well."
The lad, it would seem, had some reason to judge that the estimate whichhis companion put upon such a bond was just. Indeed, in those days theact of taking service, confirmed by earnest-money, implied much morethan it does in our more enlightened times. Then a man who had thusbound himself thought himself oblige
d to let nobody cheat his master buthimself, to feel a personal interest in his purposes and in his safety.Now, alas! we hire a man to rob us himself and help all others to robus,--to brush our coats in the evening, and cut our throats in themorning if we have too many silver spoons. However, Master Ned put hishand into his pocket and pulled out a piece of money, which he held outto Pierrot, who seemed for a moment to hesitate to take it. "I wish Ihad told Jargeau I was going to quit him," he said: "not that he evergave me a sol, but plenty of promises. How much is it, Master Ned?"
"A spur rial," replied the boy,--"worth a number of your French crowns."
"Lead us not into temptation!" cried Pierrot, taking and pocketing themoney. "And now tell me what I am to do."
"All you can to make them open the gates," answered Master Ned. "Youhave got the word, of course?"
"Nay, 'faith, not I," replied Pierrot: "Jargeau got it this evening, butI did not think of asking. Never mind, however: all the people inRochelle know me, and I will get in if any one can."
He was destined to be disappointed, however. In the little suburb, justbefore the gate, he and his companion passed a little tavern wherelights were burning and people singing and making a good deal of noise;but it was in vain that Pierrot knocked at the large heavy door orshouted through a small barred aperture. No one could be made to hear;and he and Master Ned were forced to retreat to one of the cabarets ofthe faubourg and await the coming of daylight.
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