The Shoes of Fortune

by Neil Munro

  CHAPTER XXXII.

  THE DUEL IN THE AUBERGE GARDEN

  Whoever it was that moved at the instigation of Madame on my behalf,he put speed into the business, for the very next day I was told mysous-lieutenancy was waiting at the headquarters of the regiment. Aseverance that seemed almost impossible to me before I learned from thelady's own lips that her heart was elsewhere engaged was now a thing tolong for eagerly, and I felt that the sooner I was out of Dunkerque andemployed about something more important than the tying of my hair andthe teasing of my heart with thinking, the better for myself. Teasing myheart, I say, because Miss Walkinshaw had her own reasons for refusingto see me any more, and do what I might I could never manage to comeface to face with her. Perhaps on the whole it was as well, for whatin the world I was to say to the lady, supposing I were privileged,it beats me now to fancy. Anyhow, the opportunity never came my way,though, for the few days that elapsed before I departed from Dunkerque,I spent hours in the Rue de la Boucherie sipping sirops on the terraceof the Cafe Coignet opposite her lodging, or at night on the old game ofhumming ancient love-songs to her high and distant window. All I gotfor my pains were brief and tantalising glimpses of her shadow on thecurtains; an attenuate kind of bliss it must be owned, and yet countedby Master Red-Shoes (who suffered from nostalgia, not from love, if hehad had the sense to know it) a very delirium of delight.

  One night there was an odd thing came to pass. But, first of all, I musttell that more than once of an evening, as I would be in the street andstaring across at Miss Walkinshaw's windows, I saw his Royal Highness inthe neighbourhood. His cloak might be voluminous, his hat dragged downupon the very nose of him, but still the step was unmistakable. If therehad been the smallest doubt of it, there came one evening when he passedme so close in the light of an oil lamp that I saw the very blotcheson his countenance. What was more, he saw and recognised me, though hepassed without any other sign than the flash of an eye and a halfstep ofhesitation.

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  "H'm," thinks I, "here's Monsieur Albany looking as if he might, likemyself, be trying to content himself with the mere shadows of things."

  He saw me more than once, and at last there came a night when a fellowin drink came staving down the street on the side I was on and jostledme in the by-going without a word of apology.

  "_Pardonnez, Monsieur!_" said I in irony, with my hat off to give him ahint at his manners.

  He lurched a second time against me and put up his hand to catch mychin, as if I were a wench, "_Mon Dieu! Monsieur Blanc-bec_, 'tis timeyou were home," said he in French, and stuttered some ribaldry that mademe smack his face with an open hand.

  "I saw his Royal Highness in the neighbourhood--"

  At once he sobered with suspicious suddenness if I had had the senseto reflect upon it, and gave me his name and direction as one GeorgeBonnat, of the Marine. "Monsieur will do me the honour of a meetingbehind the Auberge Cassard after _petit dejeuner_ to-morrow," said he,and named a friend. It was the first time I was ever challenged. Itshould have rung in the skull of me like an alarm, but I cannot recallat this date that my heart beat a stroke the faster, or that theinvitation vexed me more than if it had been one to the share of abottle of wine. "It seems a pretty ceremony about a cursed impertinenceon the part of a man in liquor," I said, "but I'm ready to meet youeither before or after petit dejeuner, as it best suits you, and myname's Greig, by your leave."

  "Very well, Monsieur Greig," said he; "except that you stupidly impedethe pavement and talk French like a Spanish cow (_comme une vacheespagnole_), you seem a gentleman of much accommodation. Eight o'clockthen, behind the _auberge_," and off went Sir Ruffler, singularlystraight and business-like, with a profound _conge_ for the unfortunatewretch he planned to thrust a spit through in the morning.

  I went home at once, to find Thurot and Clancarty at lansquenet. Theywere as elate at my story as if I had been asked to dine with Louis.

  "Gad, 'tis an Occasion!" cried my lord, and helped himself, as usual,with a charming sentiment: "_A demain les affaires serieuses_; to-nightwe'll pledge our friend!"

  Thurot evinced a flattering certainty of my ability to break down M.Bonnat's guard in little or no time. "A crab, this Bonnat," said he."Why he should pick a quarrel with you I cannot conceive, for 'tis wellknown the man is M. Albany's creature. But, no matter, we shall ticklehis ribs, M. Paul. _Ma foi!_ here's better gaming than your pestilentcards. I'd have every man in the kingdom find an affair for himself oncea month to keep his spleen in order."

  "This one's like to put mine very much out of order with his iron," Isaid, a little ruefully recalling my last affair.

  "What!" cried Thurot, "after all my lessons! And this Bonnat a crab too!Fie! M. Paul. And what an he pricks a little? a man's the better forsome iron in his system now and then. Come, come, pass down these foils,my lord, and I shall supple the arms of our Paul."

  We had a little exercise, and then I went to bed. The two sat in myroom, and smoked and talked till late in the night, while I pretendedto be fast asleep. But so far from sleep was I, that I could hear theirwatches ticking in their fobs. Some savagery, some fearful want of soulin them, as evidenced by their conversation, horrified me. It was nogreat matter that I was to risk my life upon a drunkard's folly, butfor the first time since I had come into the port of Dunkerque, and knewthese men beside my bed, there intruded a fiery sense of alienation. Itseemed a dream--a dreadful dream, that I should be lying in a foreignland, upon the eve, perhaps, of my own death or of another manslaughter,and in a correspondence with two such worldly men as those that satthere recalling combats innumerable with never a thought of the ultimatefearful retribution. Compared with this close room, where fumed the wineand weed, and men with never a tie domestic were paying away their livesin the small change of trivial pleasures, how noble and august seemedour old life upon the moors!

  When they were gone I fell asleep and slept without a break tillThurot's fingers drummed reveille on my door. I jumped into the sunshineof a lovely day that streamed into the room, soused my head in water andin a little stood upon the street with my companion.

  "_Bon matin_, Paul!" he cried cheerfully. "Faith, you sleep sur _lesdeux oreilles_, and we must be marching briskly to be at M. Bonnat'srendezvous at eight o'clock."

  We went through the town and out upon its edge at the Calais road. Thesky was blue like another sea; the sea itself was all unvexed by wave; asweeter day for slaughtering would pass the wit of man to fancy. Thurothummed an air as he walked along the street, but I was busy thinkingof another morning in Scotland, when I got a bitter lesson I now seemedscandalously soon to have forgotten. By-and-by we came to the inn. Itstood by itself upon the roadside, with a couple of workmen sitting ona bench in front dipping their morning crusts in a common jug of wine.Thurot entered and made some inquiry; came out radiant. "Monsieur is notgoing to disappoint us, as I feared," said he; and led me quickly behindthe _auberge_. We passed through the yard, where a servant-girl scouredpots and pans and sang the while as if the world were wholly pleasant inthat sunshine; we crossed a tiny rivulet upon a rotten plank and foundourselves in an orchard. Great old trees stood silent in the finestfoggy grass, their boughs all bursting out into blossom, and the airscent-thick-ened; everywhere the birds were busy; it seemed a worldof piping song. I thought to myself there could be no more incongruousplace nor season for our duelling, and it was with half a gladness Ilooked around the orchard, finding no one there.

  "Bah! our good Bonnat's gone!" cried Thurot, vastly chagrined andtugging at his watch. "That comes of being five minutes too late, and Icannot, by my faith, compliment the gentleman upon his eagerness to meetyou."

  I was mistaken but for a second; then I spied my fiery friend of theprevious evening lying on his back beneath the oldest of the trees, hishat tilted over his eyes, as if he had meant to snatch a little sleepin spite of the dazzling sunshine. He rose to his feet on our approach,swept off his hat courteously, and hailed Thurot by name.

 
"What, you, Antoine! I am ravished! For, look you, the devil's in all myfriends that I can get none of them to move a step at this hour of themorning, and I have had to come to M. Greig without a second. Had Iknown his friend was Captain Thurot I should not have vexed myself.Doubtless M. Greig has no objection to my entrusting my interests aswell as his own in the hands of M. le Capitaine?"

  I bowed my assent. Captain Thurot cast a somewhat cold and unsatisfiedeye upon the ruffler, protesting the thing was unusual.

  Bonnat smiled and shrugged his shoulders, put off his coat with muchdeliberation, and took up his place upon the sward, where I soonfollowed him.

  "Remember, it is no fool, this crab," whispered Captain Thurot as hetook my coat from me. "And 'tis two to one on him who prefers the parryto the attack."

  I had been reading Moliere's "Bourgeois Gentilhomme" the previousmorning, and as I faced my assailant I had the fencing-master's words aswell as Captain Thurot's running in my ears: "To give and not receiveis the secret of the sword." It may appear incredible, but it seemedphysically a trivial affair I was engaged upon until I saw the manBonnat's eye. He wore a smile, but his eye had the steely glint ofmurder! It was as unmistakable as if his tongue confessed it, and fora second I trembled at the possibilities of the situation. He looked anunhealthy dog; sallow exceedingly on the neck, which had the sinewsso tight they might have twanged like wire, and on his cheeks, that heseemed to suck in with a gluttonous exultation such as a gross man showsin front of a fine meal.

  "Are you ready, gentlemen?" said Thurot; and we nodded. "Then in guard!"said he.

  We saluted, fell into position and thrust simultaneously in tierce,parrying alike, then opened more seriously.

  In Thurot's teaching of me there was one lesson he most unweariedlyinsisted on, whose object was to keep my point in a straight line andparry in the smallest possible circles. I had every mind of it now, butthe cursed thing was that this Bonnat knew it too. He fenced, like anItalian, wholly from the wrist, and, crouched upon his knees, husbandedevery ounce of energy by the infrequency and the brevity of his thrusts.His lips drew back from his teeth, giving him a most villainous aspect,and he began to press in the lower lines.

  In a side-glance hazarded I saw the anxiety of Thurot's eye and realisedhis apprehension. I broke ground, and still, I think, was the bravo'smatch but for the alarm of Thurot's eye. It confused me so much that Iparried widely and gave an opening for a thrust that caught me slightlyon the arm, and dyed my shirt-sleeve crimson in a moment.

  "Halt!" cried Thurot, and put up his arm.

  I lowered my weapon, thinking the bout over, and again saw murder inBonnat's eye. He lunged furiously at my chest, missing by a miracle.

  "_Scelerat!_" cried Thurot, and, in an uncontrollable fury at theaction, threw himself upon Bonnat and disarmed him.

  They glared at each other for a minute, and Thurot finally cast theother's weapon over a hedge. "So much for M. Bonnat!" said he. "This isour valiant gentleman, is it? To stab like an assassin!"

  "_Oh, malediction!_" said the other, little abashed, and shrugging hisshoulders as he lifted his coat to put it on. "Talking of assassination,I but did the duty of the executioner in his absence, and proposed tokill the man who meditated the same upon the Prince."

  "The Prince!" cried Thurot. "Why 'tis the Prince's friend, and saved hislife!"

  "I know nothing about that," said Bonnat; "but do you think I'd be outhere at such a cursed early hour fencing if any other than M. Albanyhad sent me? _Pardieu!_ the whole of you are in the farce, but I alwayscounted you the Prince's friend, and here you must meddle when I do asI am told to do!"

  "And you tell me, Jean Bonnat, that you take out my friend to murder himby M. Albany's command?" cried Thurot incredulous.

  "What the devil else?" replied the bravo. "'Tis true M. Albany onlymentioned that M. des Souliers Rouges was an obstruction in the Rue dela Boucherie and asked me to clear him out of Dunkerque, but 'twere atidier job to clear him altogether. And here is a great pother about anEnglish hog!"

  I was too busily stanching my wound, that was scarce so serious as itappeared, to join in this dispute, but the allusion to the Prince andthe Rue de la Boucherie extremely puzzled me. I turned to Bonnat with acry for an explanation.

  "What!" I says, "does his Royal Highness claim any prerogative to theRue de la Boucherie? I'm unconscious that I ever did either you or himthe smallest harm, and if my service--innocent enough as it was--withthe priest Hamilton was something to resent, his Highness has alreadycondoned the offence."

  "For the sake of my old friend M. le Capitaine here I shall give youone word of advice," said Bonnat, "and that is, to evacuate Dunkerque assharply as you may. M. Albany may owe you some obligement, as I've heardhim hint himself, but nevertheless your steps will be safer elsewherethan in the Rue de la Boucherie."

  "There is far too much of the Rue de la Boucherie about this," I said,"and I hope no insult is intended to certain friends I have or hadthere."

  At this they looked at one another. The bravo (for so I think I may atthis time call him) whistled curiously and winked at the other, and, inspite of himself, Captain Thurot was bound to laugh.

  "And has M. Paul been haunting the Rue de la Boucherie, too?" said he."That, indeed, is to put another face on the business. 'Tis, _ma foi!_to expect too much of M. Albany's complaisance. After that there isnothing for us but to go home. And, harkee! M. Bonnat, no more Venetianwork, or, by St. Denys, I shall throw you into the harbour."

  "You must ever have your joke, my noble M. le Capitaine," said Bonnatbrazenly, and tucked his hat on the side of the head. "M. Blanc-becthere handles _arme blanche_ rather prettily, thanks, no doubt, to thegallant commander of the _Roi Rouge_, but if he has a mother let mesuggest the wisdom of his going back to her." And with that and a_conge_ he left us to enter the _auberge_.

  Thurot and I went into the town. He was silent most of the way,ruminating upon this affair, which it was plain he could unravel betterthan I could, yet he refused to give me a hint at the cause of it. Ipled with him vainly for an explanation of the Prince's objection tomy person. "I thought he had quite forgiven my innocent part in theHamilton affair," I said.

  "And so he had," said Thurot. "I have his own assurances."

  "'Tis scarcely like it when he sets a hired assassin on my track to lureme into a duel."

  "My dear boy," said Thurot, "you owe him all--your escape from Bicetre,which could easily have been frustrated; and the very prospect of thelieutenancy in the Regiment d'Auvergne."

  "What! he has a hand in this?" I cried.

  "Who else?" said he. "'Tis not the fashion in France to throw unschooledScots into such positions out of hand, and only princes may manage it.It seems, then, that we have our Prince in two moods, which is notuncommon with the same gentleman. He would favour you for the onereason, and for the other he would cut your throat. M. Tete-de-fer is myeternal puzzle. And the deuce is that he has, unless I am much mistaken,the same reason for favouring and hating you."

  "And what might that be?" said I.

  "Who, rather?" said Thurot, and we were walking down the Rue de laBoucherie. "Why, then, if you must have pointed out to you what is underyour very nose, 'tis the lady who lives here. She is the god from themachine in half a hundred affairs no less mysterious, and I wish shewere anywhere else than in Dunkerque. But, anyway, she sent you withHamilton, and she has secured the favour of the Prince for you, andnow--though she may not have attempted it--she has gained you the sameperson's enmity."

  I stopped in the street and turned to him. "All this is confused enoughto madden me," I said, "and rather than be longer in the mist I shallbrave her displeasure, compel an audience, and ask her for anexplanation."

  "Please yourself," said Thurot, and seeing I meant what I said he leftme.