XIII
_Mademoiselle._
I went to find Maitre Menard, to urge upon him that some one should staywith M. Etienne while I was gone, lest he swooned or becamelight-headed. But the surgeon himself was present, having returned frombandaging up some common skull to see how his noble patient rested. Hepromised that he would stay the night with M. le Comte; so, eased ofthat care, I set out for the Hotel de Lorraine, one of the inn-servantswith a flambeau coming along to guide and guard me. M. Etienne was afavourite in this inn of Maitre Menard's; they did not stop to askwhether he had money in his purse before falling over one another intheir eagerness to serve him. It is my opinion that one gets more out ofthe world by dint of fair words than by a long purse or a long sword.
We had not gone a block from the inn before I turned to the right-about,to the impatience of my escort.
"Nay, Jean, I must go back," I said. "I will only delay a moment, butsee Maitre Menard I must."
He was still in the cabaret where the crowd was thinning.
"Now what brings you back?"
"This, maitre," said I, drawing him into a corner. "M. le Comte has beenin a fracas to-night, as you perchance may have divined. His arch-enemygave us the slip. And I am not easy for monsieur while this Lucas is atlarge. He has the devil's own cunning and malice; he might track himhere to the Three Lanterns. Therefore, maitre, I beg you to admit no oneto M. le Comte--no one on any business whatsoever. Not if he comes fromthe Duke of Mayenne himself."
"I won't admit the Sixteen themselves," the maitre declared.
"There is one man you may admit," I conceded. "Vigo, M. de St. Quentin'sequery. You will know him for the biggest man in France."
"Good. And this other; what is he like?"
"He is young," I said, "not above four or five and twenty. Tall andslim,--oh, without doubt, a gentleman. He has light-brown hair and thin,aquiline face. His tongue is unbound, too."
"His tongue shall not get around me," Maitre Menard promised. "The hostof the Three Lanterns was not born yesterday let me tell you."
With this comforting assurance I set out once more on my expeditionwith, to tell truth, no very keen enthusiasm for the business. It wasall very well for M. Etienne to declare grandly that as recompense formy trouble I should see Mlle. de Montluc. But I was not her lover and Ithought I could get along very comfortably without seeing her. I knewnot how to bear myself before a splendid young noblewoman. When I haddashed across Paris to slay the traitor in the Rue Coupejarrets I hadnot been afraid; but now, going with a love-message to a girl, I wasscared.
And there was more than the fear of her bright eyes to give me pause. Iwas afraid of Mlle. de Montluc, but more afraid of M. de Mayenne'scousin. What mocking devil had driven Etienne de Mar, out of a wholeFrance full of lovely women, to fix his unturnable desire on thisLigueuse of Mayenne's own brood? Had his father's friends no daughters,that he must seek a mistress from the black duke's household? Were thereno families of clean hands and honest speech, that he must ally himselfwith the treacherous blood of Lorraine?
I had seen a sample of the League's work to-day, and I liked it not. IfMayenne were, as Yeux-gris surmised, Lucas's backer, I marvelled that mymaster cared to enter his house; I marvelled that he cared to send hisservant there. Yet I went none the less readily for that; I was here todo his bidding. Nor was I greatly alarmed for my own skin; I thoughtmyself too small to be worth my Lord Mayenne's powder. And I had, I doconfess, a lively curiosity to behold the interior of the greatest housein Paris, the very core and centre of the League. Belike if it had notbeen for terror of this young demoiselle I had stepped along cheerfullyenough.
Though the hour was late, many people still loitered in the streets,the clear summer night, and all of them were talking politics. As Jeanand I passed at a rapid pace the groups under the wine-shop lanterns, wecaught always the names of Mayenne and Navarre. Everywhere they askedthe same two questions: Was it true that Henry was coming into theChurch? And if so, what would Mayenne do next? I perceived that oldMaitre Jacques of the Amour de Dieu knew what he was talking about: thepeople of Paris were sick to death of the Leagues and their intriguery,galled to desperation under the yoke of the Sixteen.
Mayenne's fine new hotel in the Rue St. Antoine was lighted as for afete. From its open windows came sounds of gay laughter and rattlingdice. You might have thought them keeping carnival in the midst of ahappy and loyal city. If the Lieutenant-General found anything to vexhim in the present situation, he did not let the commonalty know it.
The Duke of Mayenne's house, like my duke's, was guarded by men-at-arms;but his grilles were thrown back while his soldiers lounged on the stonebenches in the archway. Some of them were talking to a little knot ofstreet idlers who had gathered about the entrance, while others, withthe aid of a torch and a greasy pack of cards, were playing lansquenet.
I knew no way to do but to ask openly for Mlle. de Montluc, declaringthat I came on behalf of the Comte de Mar.
"That is right; you are to enter," the captain of the guard replied atonce. "But you are not the Comte de Mar yourself? Nay, no need to ask,"he added with a laugh. "A pretty count you would make."
"I am his servant," I said. "I am charged with a message formademoiselle."
"Well, my orders were to admit the count, but I suppose you may go in.If mademoiselle cannot land her lover it were cruel to deny her theconsolation of a message."
A laugh went up and one of the gamblers looked round to say:
"It has gone hard with mademoiselle lately, sangdieu! Here's the Comtede Mar has not set foot in the house for a month or more, and M. Paulfor a quarter of a year is vanished off the face of the earth. It seemedas if she must take the little cheese or nothing. But now things arelooking up with her. M. Paul has walked calmly in, and here is amessenger at least from the other."
"But M. Paul has walked calmly out again," a third soldier took up thetale. "He did not stay very long, for all mademoiselle's graces."
"Then I warrant 'twas mademoiselle sent him off with a flea in hisear," another cried. "She looks higher than a bastard, even Le Balafre'sown."
"She had better take care how she flouts Paul de Lorraine," came theretort, but the captain bade me march along. I followed him into thehouse, leaving Jean to be edified, no doubt, by a whole history, falseand true, concerning Mlle. de Montluc. We bow down before the lofty ofthe earth, we underlings, but behind their backs there is none withwhose names we make so free. And there we have the advantage of ourmasters; for they know little of our private matters while we knoweverything of theirs.
In the hall the captain turned me over to a lackey who conducted methrough a couple of antechambers to a curtained doorway whence issued amerry confusion of voices and laughter. He passed in while I remained toundergo the scrutiny of the pair of flunkies whose repose we hadinvaded. But in a moment my guide appeared again, lifting the curtainfor me to enter.
The big room was ablaze with candles set in mirrored sconces along thewalls, set also in silver candelabra on the tables. There was a crowd ofpeople in the place, a hundred it seemed to my dazzled eyes; grouped,most of them, about the tables set up and down, either taking handsthemselves at cards or dice or betting on those who did. Bluff soldiersin breastplate and jack-boots were not wanting in the throng, but thelarger number of the gallants were brave in silken doublets and spotlessruffs, as became a noble's drawing-room. And the ladies! mordieu, whatam I to say of them? Tricked out in every gay colour under the sun,agleam with jewels--eh bien, the ladies of St. Quentin, that I hadthought so fine, were but serving-maids to these.
I stood blinking, dazed by the lights and the crowd and the chatter,unable in the first moment to note clearly any face in the congregationof strange countenances. Nor would it have helped me if I could, forhere close about were a dozen fair women, any one of whom might beMlle. de Montluc. My heart hammered in my throat. I knew not whom toaddress. But a young noble near by, dazzling in a suit of pink, took theburden on himself.
&
nbsp; "I heard Mar's name; yet you are not M. de Mar, I think."
He spoke with a languid but none the less teasing derision. In truth, Imust have resembled a little brown hare suddenly turned out of a bag inthe midst of that gorgeous company.
"No," I stammered; "I am his servant. I seek Mlle. de Montluc."
"I have wondered what has become of Etienne de Mar this last month,"spoke a second young gentleman, advancing from his place behind a fairone's chair. He was neither so pretty nor so fine as the other, but inhis short, stocky figure and square face there was a force which hiscomrade lacked. He regarded me with a far keener glance as he asked:
"Peste! he must be in low water if this is the best he can do for alackey."
"Perhaps the fellow's errand is to beg an advance from Mlle. deMontluc," suggested the pink youth.
"Who speaks my name?" a clear voice called; and a lady, laying down herhand at cards, rose and came toward me.
She was clad in amber satin. She was tall, and she carried herself withstately grace. Her black hair shadowed a cheek as purely white and pinkas that of any yellow-locked Frisian girl, while her eyes, under theirsooty lashes, shone blue as corn-flowers.
I began to understand M. Etienne.
"Who is it wants me?" she repeated, and catching sight of me stoodregarding me in some surprise, not unfriendly, waiting for me to explainmyself. But before I could find my tongue the man in pink answered herwith his soft drawl:
"Mademoiselle, this is a minister plenipotentiary and envoyextraordinary--most extraordinary--from the court of his Highness theComte de Mar."
"Oh, that is it!" she cried with a little laugh, but not, I think, at myuncouthness, though she looked me over curiously.
"He has not come himself, M. de Mar?"
"It appears not, mademoiselle."
She did not seem vastly disconcerted for all she cried in doleful tones:
"Alack! alack! I have lost. And Paul is not present to enjoy histriumph. He wagered me a pair of pearl-broidered gloves that I could notproduce M. de Mar."
"But it is not his fault," I answered her, eagerly. "It is not M. deMar's fault, mademoiselle. He has been hurt to-day, and he could notcome. He is in bed of his wounds; he could not walk across his room. Hetried. He bade me lay at mademoiselle's feet his lifelong services."
"Ah, Lorance!" cried a young demoiselle in a sky-coloured gown,"methinks you have indeed lost M. de Mar if he sends you no bettermessenger of his regrets than this horse-boy."
"I have lost the gloves, that is certain and sad," Mlle. de Montlucreplied, as if the loss of the wager were all her care. "I am punishedfor my vanity, mesdames et messieurs. I undertook to produce my recreantsquire and I have failed. Alas!" And she put up her white hands beforeher face with a pretty imitation of despair, save that her eyes sparkledfrom between her fingers.
By this time the gamesters about us had stopped their play, in a generalinterest in the affair. An older lady coming forward with an air ofauthority demanded:
"What is this disturbance, Lorance?"
"A wager between me and my cousin Paul, madame," she answered withinstant gravity and respect.
"Paul de Lorraine! Is he here?" the other asked, unpleased, I thought.
"Yes, madame. He dropped from the skies on us this afternoon. He is outof the house again now."
"But while he was in the house," quoth she in sky-colour, "though he didnot find time to pay his respects to Mme. la Duchesse, he had theleisure for considerable conversation with Mlle. de Montluc."
The other lady, whom I now guessed to be the Duchesse de Mayenneherself, turned somewhat sharply on her cousin of Montluc.
"I do not yet hear your excuses, mademoiselle, for the introduction of astable-boy into my salon."
"I beg you to believe, madame, I am not responsible for it," sheprotested. "Paul, when he was here, saw fit to rally me concerning M. deMar. Mlle. de Tavanne informed him of the count's defection and theywere pleased to be merry with me over it. I vowed I could get him backif I wished. The end of the matter was that I wrote a letter which mycousin promised to have conveyed to M. le Comte's old lodgings. This isthe answer," mademoiselle cried, with a wave of her hand toward me. "ButI did not expect it in this guise, madame. Blame your lackeys who knownot their duties, not me."
"I blame you, mademoiselle," Mme. de Mayenne answered her, tartly. "Iconsider my salon no place for intrigues with horse-boys. If you musthold colloquy with this fellow, take him whither he belongs--to thestables."
A laugh went up among those who laugh at whatever a duchess says.
"Come, mesdames, we will resume our play," she added to the ladies whohad followed her on the scene, and turned her back in lofty disdain onMlle. de Montluc and her concerns. But though some of the company obeyedher, a curious circle still surrounded us.
"Dame! if you must be banished to the stables, we all will go,mademoiselle," declared the pink gallant. "We all want news of thevanished Mar."
"Indeed we do. We have missed him sorely. And I dare swear thismessenger's account will prove diverting," lisped the sky-coloureddemoiselle.
I was not enjoying myself. I had given all my hopes of glory to be outin the street again. I wished Mlle. de Montluc would take me to thestables--anywhere out of this laughing company. But she had no suchintent.
"I think madame does not mean her sentence," she rejoined. "I would notfor the world frustrate your curiosity, Blanche; nor yours, M. deChampfleury. Tell us what has befallen your master, Sir Courier."
"He has been in a duel, mademoiselle."
"Whom was he fighting?"
"And for what lady's favour?"
"Is it a pretty Huguenot this time?"
"Does she make him read his Bible?"
"Or did her big brother set on him for a wicked papist?"
The questions chorussed upon me; I saw they were framed to teasemademoiselle. I answered as best I might:
"He thinks of no lady but Mlle. de Montluc. The fight was over othermatters. I am only told to say M. le Comte regrets most heartily thathis wound prevents his coming, and to assure mademoiselle that he is tooweak and faint to walk across the floor."
"Then exceed your instructions a little. Tell us what monsieur has beenabout these four weeks that he could not take time to visit us."
I was in a dilemma. I knew she was M. Etienne's chosen lady andtherefore deserving of all fealty from me; yet at the same time I couldnot answer her question. It was sheer embarrassment and no intent ofrudeness that caused my short answer:
"About his own concerns, mademoiselle."
"The young puppy begins to growl!" exclaimed the thick-set soldierlyfellow who had bespoken me before, whose hostile gaze had never left myface. "I'll have him flogged, mademoiselle, for this insolence."
"M. de Brie--" she began at the same moment that I cried out to her:
"I meant no insolence; I crave mademoiselle's pardon." I added, in myhaste floundering deeper into the mire: "Mademoiselle sees for herselfthat I cannot tell about M. le Comte's affairs in this house."
Brie had me by the collar.
"So that is what has become of Mar!" he cried triumphantly. "I thoughtas much. If Mar's affairs are to be a secret from this house, then, nomde dieu, they are no secret."
He shook me back and forth as if to shake the truth out of me, till myteeth rattled together; I could not have spoken if I would. But he criedon, his voice rising with excitement:
"It has been no secret where St. Quentin stands and what he has beenabout. He came into Paris, smooth and smiling, his own man,forsooth--neither ours nor the heretic's! Mordieu! he was Henry's, fastand sure, save that he was not man enough to say so. I told Mayenne lastmonth we ought to settle with M. de St. Quentin; I asked nothing betterthan to attend to him. But the general would not, but let him alone,free and unmolested in his work of stirring up sedition. And Mar, too--"
He stopped in the middle of a word. All the company who had beenpressing around us halted still. I knew that behind me
some one hadentered the room.
M. de Brie dragged me back from where we were blocking the passage. Iturned in his grasp to face the newcomer.
He was a tall, stout man, deep-chested, thick-necked, heavy-jowled. Hiswavy hair, brushed up from a high forehead, was lightest brown, whilehis brows, mustachios, and beard were dark. His eyes were dark also, hisfull lips red and smiling. He had the beauty and presence of all theGuises; it needed not the star on his breast to tell me that this wasMayenne himself.
He advanced into the room returning the salutes of the company, but hisglance travelling straight to me and my captor.
"What have we here, Francois?"
"This is a fellow of Etienne de Mar's, M. le Duc," Brie answered. "Hecame here with messages for Mlle. de Montluc. I am getting out of himwhat Mar has been up to since he disappeared a month back."
"You are at unnecessary pains, my dear Francois; I already know Mar'swhereabouts and doings rather better than he knows them himself."
Brie dropped his hand from my collar, looking by no means at ease. Iperceived that this was the way with Mayenne: you knew what he said butyou did not know what he thought. His somewhat heavy face varied little;what went on in his mind behind the smiling mask was matter for anxiety.If he asked pleasantly after your health, you fancied he might bethinking how well you would grace the gallows.
M. de Brie said nothing and the duke continued:
"Yes, I have kept watch over him these five weeks. You are late,Francois. You little boys are fools; you think because you do not know athing I do not know it. Was I cruel to keep my information from you, mabelle Lorance?"
The attack was absolutely sudden; he had not seemed to observe her.Mademoiselle coloured and made no instant reply. His voice was neitherloud nor rough; he was smiling upon her.
"Or did you need no information, mademoiselle?"
She met his look unflinching.
"I have not been sighing for tidings of the Comte de Mar, monsieur."
"Because you have had tidings, mademoiselle?"
"No, monsieur, I have had no communication with M. de Mar sinceMay--until to-night."
"And what has happened to-night?"
"To-night--Paul appeared."
"Paul!" ejaculated the duke, startled momentarily out of his phlegm."Paul here?"
"He was, monsieur, an hour ago. He has since gone forth again, I knownot whither or for what."
Mayenne ruminated over this, pulling off his gloves slowly.
"Well? What has this to do with Mar?"
She had no choice, though in evident fear of his displeasure, but to gothrough again the tale of the wager and letter. She was moistening herdry lips as she finished, her eyes on his face wide with apprehension.But he answered amiably, half absently, as if the whole affair were atriviality:
"Never mind; I will give you a pair of gloves, Lorance."
He stood smiling upon us as if amused for an idle moment over ourchildish games. The colour came back to her cheeks; she made him acurtsey, laughing lightly.
"Then my grief is indeed cured, monsieur. A new bit of finery is thebest of balms for wounded self-esteem, is it not, Blanche? I confess Iam piqued; I had dared to imagine that my squire might remember me stillafter a month of absence. I should have known it too much to ask ofmortal man. Not till the rivers run up-hill will you keep our memoriesgreen for more than a week, messieurs."
"She turns it off well," cried the little demoiselle in blue, Mlle.Blanche de Tavanne; "you would not guess that she will be awake thenight long, weeping over M. de Mar's defection."
"I!" exclaimed Mlle. de Montluc; "I weep over his recreancy? It is afar-fetched jest, my Blanche; can you invent no better? The Comte deMar--behold him!"
She snatched a card from a tossed-down hand, holding it up aloft for usall to see. It was by chance the knave of diamonds; the pictured facewith its yellow hair bore, in my fancy at least, a suggestion of M.Etienne.
"Behold M. de Mar--behold his fate!" With a twinkling of her whitefingers she had torn the luckless knave into a dozen pieces and sentthem whirling over her head to fall far and wide among the company.
"I DO NOT FORGIVE HIS DESPATCHING ME HIS HORSE-BOY."]
"Summary measures, mademoiselle!" quoth a grizzled warrior, with alaugh. "Mordieu! have we your good permission to deal likewise with theflesh-and-blood Mar, when we go to arrest him for conspiring against theHoly League?"
But Mlle. de Tavanne's quick tongue robbed him of his answer.
"Marry, you are severe on him, Lorance. To be sure he does not comehimself, but he sends so gallant a messenger!"
Mademoiselle glanced at me with hard blue eyes.
"That is the greatest insult of all," she said. "I could forgive--andforget--his absence; but I do not forgive his despatching me hishorse-boy."
Thus far I had choked down my swelling rage at her faithlessness, hervanity, her despiteful entreatment of my master's plight. I knew it wassheer madness for me to attempt his defence before this hostile company;nay, there was no object in defending him; there was not one here whocared to hear good of him. But at her last insult to him my blood boiledso hot that I lost all command of myself, and I burst out:
"If I were a horse-boy,--which I am not,--I were twenty times too goodto be carrying messages hither. You need not rail at his poverty,mademoiselle; it was you brought him to it. It was for you he was turnedout of his father's house. But for you he would not now be lying in agarret, penniless and dishonoured. Whatever ills he suffers, it is youand your false house have brought them."
Brie had me by the throat. Mayenne interfered without excitement.
"Don't strangle him, Francois; I may need him later. Let him be floggedand locked in the oratory."
He turned away as one bored over a trifling matter. And as the lackeysdragged me back to the door, I heard Mlle. de Montluc saying:
"Oh, M. de Latour, what have I done in destroying your knave ofdiamonds! Ma foi, you had a quatorze!"
The Helmet of Navarre Page 14
