Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by the Web Archive
Transcriber's Notes:
1. Page scan source: https://www.archive.org/details/historicalromanc00weymiala
2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe].
HISTORICAL ROMANCES
_UNDER THE RED ROBE_
_COUNT HANNIBAL_
_A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE_
_BY THE SAME AUTHOR_
THE HOUSE OF THE WOLF A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE UNDER THE RED ROBE SHREWSBURY SOPHIA COUNT HANNIBAL IN KINGS' BYWAYS STARVECROW FARM LAID UP IN LAVENDER OVINGTON'S BANK THE TRAVELLER IN THE FUR CLOAK QUEEN'S FOLLY THE _LIVELY PEGGY_
HISTORICAL ROMANCES
_Under The Red Robe_
_Count Hannibal_
_A Gentleman of France_
BY
STANLEY J. WEYMAN
LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO. 55 FIFTH AVENUE NEW YORK
HISTORICAL ROMANCES
UNDER THE RED ROBE * COUNT HANNIBAL A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE
COPYRIGHT * 1893 * 1894 * 1900 * 1901 * 1921 BY STANLEY J. WEYMAN
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
UNDER THE RED ROBE
CONTENTS
I. At Zaton's.
II. At the Green Pillar.
III. The House in the Wood.
IV. Madam and Mademoiselle.
V. Revenge.
VI. Under the Pic du Midi.
VII. A Master Stroke.
VIII. The Question.
IX. Clon.
X. The Arrest.
XI. The Road to Paris.
XII. At the Finger-Post
XIII. St. Martin's Eve.
XIV. St. Martin's Summer.
UNDER THE RED ROBE
CHAPTER I.
AT ZATON'S
"Marked cards!"
There were a score round us when the fool, little knowing the man withwhom he had to deal, and as little how to lose like a gentleman, flungthe words in my teeth. He thought, I'll be sworn, that I should stormand swear and ruffle it like any common cock of the hackle. But thatwas never Gil de Berault's way. For a few seconds after he had spokenI did not even look at him. I passed my eye instead--smiling, _bienentendu_--round the ring of waiting faces, saw that there was no oneexcept De Pombal I had cause to fear; and then at last I rose andlooked at the fool with the grim face I have known impose on older andwiser men.
"Marked cards, M. l'Anglais?" I said, with a chilling sneer. "They areused, I am told, to trap players--not unbirched schoolboys."
"Yet I say that they are marked!" he replied hotly, in his queerforeign jargon. "In my last hand I had nothing. You doubled thestakes. Bah, Sir, you knew! You have swindled me!"
"Monsieur is easy to swindle--when he plays with a mirror behind him,"I answered tartly. And at that there was a great roar of laughter,which might have been heard in the street, and which brought to thetable every one in the eating-house whom his violence had not alreadyattracted. But I did not relax my face. I waited until all was quietagain, and then waving aside two or three who stood between us and theentrance, I pointed gravely to the door. "There is a little spacebehind the church of St. Jacques, M. l'Etranger," I said, putting onmy hat and taking my cloak on my arm. "Doubtless you will accompany methither?"
He snatched up his hat, his face burning with shame and rage. "Withpleasure!" he blurted out. "To the devil, if you like!"
I thought the matter arranged, when the Marquis laid his hand on theyoung fellow's arm and checked him. "This must not be," he said,turning from him to me with his grand fine-gentleman's air. "You knowme, M. de Berault. This matter has gone far enough."
"Too far, M. de Pombal!" I answered bitterly. "Still, if you wish totake the gentleman's place, I shall raise no objection."
"Chut, man!" he retorted, shrugging his shoulders negligently. "I knowyou, and I do not fight with men of your stamp. Nor need thisgentleman."
"Undoubtedly," I replied, bowing low, "if he prefers to be caned inthe streets."
That stung the Marquis. "Have a care! have a care!" he cried hotly."You go too far, M. Berault."
"De Berault, if you please," I objected, eyeing him sternly. "Myfamily has borne the _de_ as long as yours, M. de Pombal."
He could not deny that, and he answered, "As you please"; at the sametime restraining his friend by a gesture. "But none the less, take myadvice," he continued. "The Cardinal has forbidden duelling, and thistime he means it! You have been in trouble once and gone free. Asecond time it may fare worse with you. Let this gentleman go,therefore, M. de Berault. Besides--why, shame upon you, man!" heexclaimed hotly; "he is but a lad!"
Two or three who stood behind me applauded that. But I turned and theymet my eye; and they were as mum as mice. "His age is his ownconcern," I said grimly. "He was old enough a while ago to insult me."
"And I will prove my words!" the lad cried, exploding at last. He hadspirit enough, and the Marquis had had hard work to restrain him solong. "You do me no service, M. de Pombal," he continued, pettishlyshaking off his friend's hand. "By your leave, this gentleman and Iwill settle this matter."
"That is better," I said, nodding drily, while the Marquis stoodaside, frowning and baffled. "Permit me to lead the way."
Zaton's eating-house stands scarcely a hundred paces from St. Jacquesla Boucherie, and half the company went thither with us. The eveningwas wet, the light in the streets was waning, the streets themselveswere dirty and slippery. There were few passers in the Rue St.Antoine; and our party, which earlier in the day must have attractednotice and a crowd, crossed unmarked, and entered without interruptionthe paved triangle which lies immediately behind the church. I saw inthe distance one of the Cardinal's guard loitering in front of thescaffolding round the new Hotel Richelieu; and the sight of theuniform gave me pause for a moment. But it was too late to repent.
The Englishman began at once to strip off his clothes. I closed mineto the throat, for the air was chilly. At that moment, while we stoodpreparing and most of the company seemed a little inclined to standoff from me, I felt a hand on my arm, and, turning, saw the dwarfishtailor at whose house in the Rue Savonnerie I lodged at the time. Thefellow's presence was unwelcome, to say the least of it; and thoughfor want of better company I had sometimes encouraged him to be freewith me at home, I took that to be no reason why I should be plaguedwith him before gentlemen. I shook him off, therefore, hoping by afrown to silence him.
He was not to be so easily put down, however. And perforce I had tospeak to him. "Afterwards, afterwards," I said. "I am engaged now."
"For God's sake, don't, Sir!" was the poor fool's answer. "Don't doit! You will bring a curse on the house. He is but a lad, and--"
"You, too!" I exclaimed, losing patience. "Be silent, you scum! Whatdo you know about gentlemen's quarrels? Leave me; do you hear?"
&n
bsp; "But the Cardinal!" he cried in a quavering voice. "The Cardinal, M.de Berault? The last man you killed is not forgotten yet. This time hewill be sure to--"
"Do you hear?" I hissed. The fellow's impudence passed all bounds. Itwas as bad as his croaking. "Begone!" I said. "I suppose you areafraid he will kill me, and you will lose your money?"
Frison fell back at that almost as if I had struck him, and I turnedto my adversary, who had been awaiting my motions with impatience. Godknows he did look young; as he stood with his head bare and his fairhair drooping over his smooth woman's forehead--a mere lad fresh fromthe College of Burgundy, if they have such a thing in England. I felta sudden chill as I looked at him: a qualm, a tremor, a presentiment.What was it the little tailor had said? That I should--but there, hedid not know. What did he know of such things? If I let this pass Imust kill a man a day, or leave Paris and the eating-house, andstarve.
"A thousand pardons," I said gravely, as I drew and took my place. "Adun. I am sorry that the poor devil caught me so inopportunely. Now,however, I am at your service."
He saluted, and we crossed swords and began. But from the first I hadno doubt what the result would be. The slippery stones and fadinglight gave him, it is true, some chance, some advantage, more than hedeserved; but I had no sooner felt his blade than I knew that he wasno swordsman. Possibly he had taken half-a-dozen lessons in rapierart, and practised what he learned with an Englishman as heavy andawkward as himself. But that was all. He made a few wild, clumsyrushes, parrying widely. When I had foiled these, the danger was over,and I held him at my mercy.
I played with him a little while, watching the sweat gather on hisbrow, and the shadow of the church-tower fall deeper and darker, likethe shadow of doom, on his face. Not out of cruelty--God knows I havenever erred in that direction!--but because, for the first time in mylife, I felt a strange reluctance to strike the blow. The curls clungto his forehead; his breath came and went in gasps; I heard the menbehind me murmur, and one or two of them drop an oath; and then Islipped--slipped, and was down in a moment on my right side, my elbowstriking the pavement so sharply that the arm grew numb to the wrist.
He held off! I heard a dozen voices cry, "Now! now you have him!" Buthe held off. He stood back and waited with his breast heaving and hispoint lowered, until I had risen and stood again on my guard.
"Enough! enough!" a rough voice behind me cried. "Don't hurt the manafter that."
"On guard, Sir!" I answered coldly--for he seemed to waver. "It was anaccident. It shall not avail you again."
Several voices cried "Shame!" and one, "You coward!" But theEnglishman stepped forward, a fixed look in his blue eyes. He took hisplace without a word. I read in his drawn white face that he had madeup his mind to the worst, and his courage won my admiration. I wouldgladly and thankfully have set one of the lookers-on--any of thelookers-on--in his place; but that could not be. So I thought ofZaton's closed to me, of Pombal's insult, of the sneers and slights Ihad long kept at the sword's point; and, pressing him suddenly in aheat of affected anger, I thrust strongly over his guard, which hadgrown feeble, and ran him through the chest.
When I saw him lying, laid out on the stones with his eyes half shut,and his face glimmering white in the dusk--not that I saw him thuslong, for there were a dozen kneeling round him in a twinkling--I feltan unwonted pang. It passed, however, in a moment. For I found myselfconfronted by a ring of angry faces--of men who, keeping at adistance, hissed and threatened me.
They were mostly canaille, who had gathered during the fight, and hadviewed all that passed from the farther side of the railings. Whilesome snarled and raged at me like wolves, calling me "Butcher!" and"Cut-throat!" and the like, or cried out that Berault was at his tradeagain, others threatened me with the vengeance of the Cardinal, flungthe edict in my teeth, and said with glee that the guard werecoming--they would see me hanged yet.
"His blood is on your head!" one cried furiously. "He will be dead inan hour. And you will swing for him! Hurrah!"
"Begone to your kennel!" I answered, with a look which sent him a yardbackwards, though the railings were between us. And I wiped my bladecarefully, standing a little apart. For--well, I could understandit--it was one of those moments when a man is not popular. Those whohad come with me from the eating-house eyed me askance, and turnedtheir backs when I drew nearer; and those who had joined us andobtained admission were scarcely more polite.
But I was not to be outdone in _sangfroid_. I cocked my hat, anddrawing my cloak over my shoulders, went out with a swagger whichdrove the curs from the gate before I came within a dozen paces of it.The rascals outside fell back as quickly, and in a moment I was in thestreet. Another moment and I should have been clear of the place andfree to lie by for a while, when a sudden scurry took place round me.The crowd fled every way into the gloom, and in a hand-turn a dozen ofthe Cardinal's guard closed round me.
I had some acquaintance with the officer in command, and he saluted mecivilly. "This is a bad business, M. de Berault," he said. "The man isdead they tell me."
"Neither dying nor dead," I answered lightly. "If that be all, you maygo home again."
"With you," he replied, with a grin, "certainly. And as it rains, thesooner the better. I must ask you for your sword, I am afraid."
"Take it," I said, with the philosophy which never deserts me. "Butthe man will not die."
"I hope that may avail you," he answered in a tone I did not like."Left wheel, my friends! To the Chatelet! March!"
"There are worse places," I said, and resigned myself to fate. Afterall, I had been in prison before, and learned that only one jail letsno prisoner escape.
But when I found that my friend's orders were to hand me over to thewatch, and that I was to be confined like any common jail-bird caughtcutting a purse or slitting a throat, I confess my heart sank. If Icould get speech with the Cardinal, all would probably be well; but ifI failed in this, or if the case came before him in strange guise, orhe were in a hard mood himself, then it might go ill with me. Theedict said, death!
And the lieutenant at the Chatelet did not put himself to much troubleto hearten me. "What! again, M. de Berault?" he said, raising hiseyebrows as he received me at the gate, and recognized me by the lightof the brazier which his men were just kindling outside. "You are avery bold man, Sir, or a very foolhardy one, to come here again. Theold business, I suppose?"
"Yes, but he is not dead," I answered coolly.
"He has a trifle--a mere scratch. It was behind the church of St.Jacques."
"He looked dead enough," my friend the guardsman interposed. He hadnot yet gone.
"Bah!" I answered scornfully. "Have you ever known me make a mistake?When I kill a man, I kill him. I put myself to pains, I tell you, notto kill this Englishman. Therefore he will live."
"I hope so," the lieutenant said, with a dry smile. "And you hadbetter hope so, too, M. de Berault. For if not--"
"Well?" I said, somewhat troubled. "If not, what, my friend?"
"I fear he will be the last man you will fight," he answered. "Andeven if he lives, I would not be too sure, my friend. This time theCardinal is determined to put it down."
"He and I are old friends," I said confidently.
"So I have heard," he answered, with a short laugh. "I think the samewas said of Chalais. I do not remember that it saved his head."
This was not reassuring. But worse was to come. Early in the morningorders were received that I should be treated with especialstrictness, and I was given the choice between irons and one of thecells below the level. Choosing the latter, I was left to reflect uponmany things; among others, on the queer and uncertain nature of theCardinal, who loved, I knew, to play with a man as a cat with a mouse;and on the ill effects which sometimes attend a high chest-thrust,however carefully delivered. I only rescued myself at last from theseand other unpleasant reflections by obtaining the loan of a pair ofdice; and the light being just enough to enable me to reckon thethrows, I amused myself for hour
s by casting them on certainprinciples of my own. But a long run again and again upset mycalculations; and at last brought me to the conclusion that a run ofbad luck may be so persistent as to see out the most sagacious player.This was not a reflection very welcome to me at the moment.
Nevertheless, for three days it was all the company I had. At the endof that time the knave of a jailer who attended me, and who had nevergrown tired of telling me, after the fashion of his kind, that Ishould be hanged, came to me with a less assured air. "Perhaps youwould like a little water?" he said civilly.
"Why, rascal?" I asked.
"To wash with," he answered.
"I asked for some yesterday, and you would not bring it," I grumbled."However, better late than never. Bring it now. If I must hang, I willhang like a gentleman. But, depend upon it, the Cardinal will notserve an old friend so scurvy a trick."
"You are to go to him," he answered, when he came back with the water.
"What? To the Cardinal?" I cried.
"Yes," he answered.
"Good!" I exclaimed; and in my joy I sprang up at once, and began torefresh my dress. "So all this time I have been doing him aninjustice. _Vive Monseigneur!_ I might have known it."
"Don't make too sure!" the man answered spitefully. Then he went on:"I have something else for you. A friend of yours left it at thegate," he added. And he handed me a packet.
"Quite so!" I said, reading his rascally face aright. "And you kept itas long as you dared--as long as you thought I should hang, you knave!Was not that so? But there, do not lie to me. Tell me instead which ofmy friends left it." For, to confess the truth, I had not so manyfriends at this time; and ten good crowns--the packet contained noless a sum--argued a pretty staunch friend, and one of whom a manmight be proud.
The knave sniggered maliciously. "A crooked, dwarfish man left it," hesaid. "I doubt I might call him a tailor and not be far out."
"Chut!" I answered; but I was a little out of countenance. "Iunderstand. An honest fellow enough, and in debt to me! I am glad heremembered. But when am I to go, friend?"
"In an hour," he answered sullenly. Doubtless he had looked to get oneof the crowns; but I was too old a hand for that. If I came back Icould buy his services; and if I did not I should have wasted mymoney.
Nevertheless, a little later, when I found myself on my way to theHotel Richelieu under so close a guard that I could see nothing exceptthe figures that immediately surrounded me, I wished I had given himthe money. At such times, when all hangs in the balance and the sky isovercast, the mind runs on luck and old superstitions, and is prone tothink a crown given here may avail there--though there be a hundredleagues away.
The Palais Richelieu was at this time in building, and we wererequired to wait in a long, bare gallery, where the masons were atwork. I was kept a full hour here, pondering uncomfortably on thestrange whims and fancies of the great man who then ruled France asthe King's Lieutenant-General, with all the King's powers; and whoselife I had once been the means of saving by a little timelyinformation. On occasion he had done something to wipe out the debt;and at other times he had permitted me to be free with him. We werenot unknown to one another, therefore.
Nevertheless, when the doors were at last thrown open, and I was ledinto his presence, my confidence underwent a shock. His cold glance,that, roving over me, regarded me not as a man but an item, the steelyglitter of his southern eyes, chilled me to the bone. The room wasbare, the floor without carpet or covering. Some of the woodwork layabout, unfinished and in pieces. But the man--this man, needed nosurroundings. His keen, pale face, his brilliant eyes, even hispresence--though he was of no great height and began already to stoopat the shoulders--were enough to awe the boldest. I recalled as Ilooked at him a hundred tales of his iron will, his cold heart, hisunerring craft. He had humbled the King's brother, the splendid Dukeof Orleans, in the dust. He had curbed the Queen-mother. A dozenheads, the noblest in France, had come to the block through him. Onlytwo years before he had quelled Rochelle; only a few months before hehad crushed the great insurrection in Languedoc: and though the south,stripped of its old privileges, still seethed with discontent, no onein this year 1630 dared lift a hand against him--openly, at any rate.Under the surface a hundred plots, a thousand intrigues, sought hislife or his power; but these, I suppose, are the hap of every greatman.
No wonder, then, that the courage on which I plumed myself sank low atsight of him; or that it was as much as I could do to mingle with thehumility of my salute some touch of the _sangfroid_ of oldacquaintanceship.
And perhaps that had been better left out. For this man was withoutbowels. For a moment, while he stood looking at me and before he spoketo me, I gave myself up for lost. There was a glint of cruelsatisfaction in his eyes that warned me, before he spoke, what he wasgoing to say to me.
"I could not have made a better catch, M. de Berault," he said,smiling villainously, while he gently smoothed the fur of a cat thathad sprung on the table beside him. "An old offender and an excellentexample. I doubt it will not stop with you. But later, we will makeyou the warrant for flying at higher game."
"Monseigneur has handled a sword himself," I blurted out. The veryroom seemed to be growing darker, the air colder. I was never nearerfear in my life.
"Yes?" he said, smiling delicately. "And so?"
"Will not be too hard on the failings of a poor gentleman."
"He shall suffer no more than a rich one," he replied suavely, as hestroked the cat. "Enjoy that satisfaction, M. de Berault. Is thatall?"
"Once I was of service to your Eminence," I said desperately.
"Payment has been made," he answered, "more than once. But for that Ishould not have seen you, M. de Berault."
"The King's face!" I cried, snatching at the straw he seemed to holdout.
He laughed cynically, smoothly. His thin face, his dark moustache, andwhitening hair, gave him an air of indescribable keenness. "I am notthe King," he said. "Besides, I am told you have killed as many as sixmen in duels. You owe the King, therefore, one life at least. You mustpay it. There is no more to be said, M. de Berault," he continuedcoldly, turning away and beginning to collect some papers. "The lawmust take its course."
I thought he was about to nod to the lieutenant to withdraw me, and achilling sweat broke out down my back. I saw the scaffold, I felt thecords. A moment, and it would be too late! "I have a favour to ask," Istammered desperately, "if your Eminence would give me a momentalone."
"To what end?" he answered, turning and eyeing me with cold disfavour."I know you--your past--all. It can do no good, my friend."
"Nor harm!" I cried. "And I am a dying man, Monseigneur!"
"That is true," he said thoughtfully. Still he seemed to hesitate; andmy heart beat fast. At last he looked at the lieutenant. "You mayleave us," he said shortly. "Now," when the officer had withdrawn andleft us alone, "what is it? Say what you have to say quickly. Andabove all, do not try to fool me, M. de Berault."
But his piercing eyes so disconcerted me that now I had my chance Icould not find a word to say, and stood before him mute. I think thispleased him, for his face relaxed.
"Well?" he said at last. "Is that all?"
"The man is not dead," I muttered.
He shrugged his shoulders contemptuously. "What of that?" he said."That was not what you wanted to say to me."
"Once I saved your Eminence's life," I faltered miserably.
"Admitted," he answered, in his thin, incisive voice. "You mentionedthe fact before. On the other hand, you have taken six to myknowledge, M. de Berault. You have lived the life of a bully, a commonbravo, a gamester. You, a man of family! For shame! And it has broughtyou to this. Yet on that one point I am willing to hear more," headded abruptly.
"I might save your Eminence's life again," I cried. It was a suddeninspiration.
"You know something," he said quickly, fixing me with his eyes. "Butno," he continued, shaking his head gently. "Pshaw! the trick is old.I have better spies
than you, M. de Berault."
"But no better sword," I cried hoarsely. "No, not in all your guard!"
"That is true," he said. "That is true." To my surprise, he spoke in atone of consideration; and he looked down at the floor. "Let me think,my friend," he continued.
He walked two or three times up and down the room, while I stoodtrembling. I confess it trembling. The man whose pulses danger has nopower to quicken, is seldom proof against suspense; and the suddenhope his words awakened in me so shook me that his figure, as he trodlightly to and fro, with the cat rubbing against his robe and turningtime for time with him, wavered before my eyes. I grasped the table tosteady myself. I had not admitted even in my own mind how darkly theshadow of Montfaucon and the gallows had fallen across me.
I had leisure to recover myself, for it was some time before he spoke.When he did, it was in a voice harsh, changed, imperative. "You havethe reputation of a man faithful, at least, to his employer," he said."Do not answer me. I say it is so. Well, I will trust you. I will giveyou one more chance--though it is a desperate one. Woe to you if youfail me! Do you know Cocheforet in Bearn? It is not far from Auch."
"No, your Eminence."
"Nor M. de Cocheforet?"
"No, your Eminence."
"So much the better," he retorted. "But you have heard of him. He hasbeen engaged in every Gascon plot since the late King's death, andgave me more trouble last year in the Vivarais than any man twice hisyears. At present he is at Bosost in Spain, with other refugees, but Ihave learned that at frequent intervals he visits his wife atCocheforet, which is six leagues within the border. On one of thesevisits he must be arrested."
"That should be easy," I said.
The Cardinal looked at me. "Tush, man! what do you know about it?" heanswered bluntly. "It is whispered at Cocheforet if a soldier crossesthe street at Auch. In the house are only two or three servants, butthey have the country-side with them to a man, and they are adangerous breed. A spark might kindle a fresh rising. The arrest,therefore, must be made secretly."
I bowed.
"One resolute man inside the house, with the help of two or threeservants whom he could summon to his aid at will, might effect it,"the Cardinal continued, glancing at a paper which lay on the table."The question is, will you be the man, my friend?"
I hesitated; then I bowed. What choice had I?
"Nay, nay, speak out!" he said sharply. "Yes or no, M. de Berault?"
"Yes, your Eminence," I said reluctantly. Again, I say, what choicehad I?
"You will bring him to Paris, and alive. He knows things, and that iswhy I want him. You understand?"
"I understand, Monseigneur," I answered.
"You will get into the house as you can," he continued. "For that youwill need strategy, and good strategy. They suspect everybody. Youmust deceive them. If you fail to deceive them, or, deceiving them,are found out later, M. de Berault--I do not think you will trouble meagain, or break the edict a second time. On the other hand, should youdeceive _me_"--he smiled still more subtly, but his voice sank to apurring note--"I will break you on the wheel like the ruined gamesteryou are!"
I met his look without quailing. "So be it!" I said recklessly. "If Ido not bring M. de Cocheforet to Paris, you may do that to me, andmore also!"
"It is a bargain!" he answered slowly. "I think you will be faithful.For money, here are a hundred crowns. That sum should suffice; but ifyou succeed you shall have twice as much more. Well, that is all, Ithink. You understand?"
"Yes, Monseigneur."
"Then why do you wait?"
"The lieutenant?" I said modestly.
Monseigneur laughed to himself, and sitting down wrote a word or twoon a slip of paper. "Give him that," he said, in high good-humour. "Ifear, M. de Berault, you will never get your deserts--in this world!"
Historical Romances: Under the Red Robe, Count Hannibal, A Gentleman of France Page 1
