Historical Romances: Under the Red Robe, Count Hannibal, A Gentleman of France

by Stanley John Weyman

  CHAPTER XX.

  THE KING'S FACE.

  It seemed so necessary to bring home the crime to Bruhl should thepriest really perish in the trap laid for me, that I came near tofalling into one of those mistakes to which men of action are prone.For my first impulse was to follow the priest to the Parvis, closelyenough, if possible, to detect the assassins in the act, and withsufficient force, if I could muster it, to arrest them. The credit ofdissuading me from this course lies with Simon, who pointed out itsdangers in so convincing a manner that I was brought with littledifficulty to relinquish it.

  Instead, acting on his advice, I sent him to M. d'Agen's lodging, tobeg that young gentleman to call upon me before evening. Aftersearching the lodging and other places in vain, Simon found M. d'Agenin the tennis-court at the Castle, and, inventing a crafty excuse,brought him to my lodging a full hour before the time.

  My visitor was naturally surprised to find that I had nothingparticular to say to him. I dared not tell him what occupied mythoughts, and for the rest invention failed me. But his gaiety andthose pretty affectations on which he spent an infinity of pains, forthe purpose, apparently, of hiding the sterling worth of a characterdeficient neither in courage nor backbone, were united to much goodnature. Believing at last that I had sent for him in a fit of thevapours, he devoted himself to amusing me and abusing Bruhl--a veryfavourite pastime with him. And in this way he made out a call of twohours.

  I had not long to wait for proof of Simon's wisdom in taking thisprecaution. We thought it prudent to keep within doors after ourguest's departure, and so passed the night in ignorance whetheranything had happened or not. But about seven next morning one of theMarquis's servants, despatched by M. d'Agen, burst in upon us with thenews--which was no news from the moment his hurried footstep soundedon the stairs--that Father Antoine had been set upon and killed theprevious evening!

  I heard this confirmation of my hopes with grave thankfulness; Simonwith so much emotion that when the messenger was gone he sat down on astool and began to sob and tremble as if he had lost his mother,instead of a mortal foe. I took advantage of the occasion to read hima sermon on the end of crooked courses; nor could I myself recallwithout a shudder the man's last words to me; or the lawless and evildesigns in which he had rejoiced, while standing on the very brink ofthe pit which was to swallow up both him and them in everlastingdarkness.

  Naturally, the uppermost feeling in my mind was relief. I was freeonce more. In all probability the priest had kept his knowledge tohimself, and without him his agents would be powerless. Simon, it istrue, heard that the town was much excited by the event; and that manyattributed it to the Huguenots. But we did not suffer ourselves to bedepressed by this, nor had I any foreboding until the sound of asecond hurried footstep mounting the stairs reached our ears.

  I knew the step in a moment for M. d'Agen's, and something ominous inits ring brought me to my feet before he opened the door. Significantas was his first hasty look round the room, he recovered at sight ofme all his habitual _sang-froid_. He saluted me, and spoke coolly,though rapidly. But he panted, and I noticed in a moment that he hadlost his lisp.

  'I am happy in finding you,' he said, closing the door carefullybehind him, 'for I am the bearer of ill news, and there is not amoment to be lost. The king has signed an order for your instantconsignment to prison, M. de Marsac, and, once there, it is difficultto say what may not happen.'

  'My consignment?' I exclaimed. I may be pardoned if the news for amoment found me unprepared.

  'Yes,' he replied quickly. 'The king has signed it at the instance ofMarshal Retz.'

  'But for what?' I cried in amazement.

  'The murder of Father Antoine. You will pardon me,' he continuedurgently, 'but this is no time for words. The Provost-Marshal is evennow on his way to arrest you. Your only hope is to evade him, and gainan audience of the king. I have persuaded my uncle to go with you, andhe is waiting at his lodgings. There is not a moment to be lost,however, if you would reach the king's presence before you arearrested.'

  'But I am innocent!' I cried.

  'I know it,' M. d'Agen answered, 'and can prove it. But if you cannotget speech of the king innocence will avail you nothing. You havepowerful enemies. Come without more ado, M. de Marsac, I pray,' headded.

  His manner, even more than his words, impressed me with a sense ofurgency; and postponing for a time my own judgment, I hurriedlythanked him for his friendly offices. Snatching up my sword, which layon a chair, I buckled it on; for Simon's fingers trembled so violentlyhe could give me no help. This done I nodded to M. d'Agen to go first,and followed him from the room, Simon attending us of his own motion.It would be then about eleven o'clock in the forenoon.

  My companion ran down the stairs without ceremony, and so quickly itwas all I could do to keep up with him. At the outer door he signed meto stand, and darting himself into the street, he looked anxiously inthe direction of the Rue St. Denys. Fortunately the coast was stillclear, and he beckoned to me to follow him. I did so and starting towalk in the opposite direction as fast as we could, in less than aminute we had put a corner between us and the house.

  Our hopes of escaping unseen, however, were promptly dashed. Thehouse, I have said, stood in a quiet by-street, which was bounded onthe farther side by a garden-wall buttressed at intervals. We hadscarcely gone a dozen paces from my door when a man slipped from theshelter of one of these buttresses, and after a single glance at us,set off to run towards the Rue St. Denys.

  M. d'Agen looked back and nodded. 'There goes the news,' he said.'They will try to cut us off, but I think we have the start of them.'

  I made no reply, feeling that I had resigned myself entirely into hishands. But as we passed through the Rue de Valois, in part of which amarket was held at this hour, attracting a considerable concourse ofpeasants and others, I fancied I detected signs of unusual bustle andexcitement. It seemed unlikely that news of the priest's murder shouldaffect so many people and to such a degree, and I asked M. d'Agen whatit meant.

  'There is a rumour abroad,' he answered, without slackening speed,'that the king intends to move south to Tours at once.'

  I muttered my surprise and satisfaction. 'He will come to terms withthe Huguenots then?' I said.

  'It looks like it,' M. d'Agen rejoined. 'Retz's party are in anill-humour on that account, and will wreak it on you if they get achance. On guard!' he added abruptly. 'Here are two of them!'

  As he spoke we emerged from the crowd, and I saw, half a dozen pacesin front of us, and coming to meet us, a couple of Court gallants,attended by as many servants. They espied us at the same moment, andcame across the street, which was tolerably wide at that part, withthe evident intention of stopping us. Simultaneously, however, wecrossed to take their side, and so met them face to face in the middleof the way.

  'M. d'Agen,' the foremost exclaimed, speaking in a haughty tone, andwith a dark side glance at me, 'I am sorry to see you in such company!Doubtless you are not aware that this gentleman is the subject of anorder which has even now been issued to the Provost-Marshal.'

  'And if so, sir? What of that?' my companion lisped in his silkiesttone.

  'What of that?' the other cried, frowning, and pushing slightlyforward.

  'Precisely,' M. d'Agen repeated, laying his hand on his hilt anddeclining to give back. 'I am not aware that his Majesty has appointedyou Provost-Marshal, or that you have any warrant, M. Villequier,empowering you to stop gentlemen in the public streets.'

  M. Villequier reddened with anger. 'You are young, M. d'Agen,' hesaid, his voice quivering, 'or I would make you pay dearly for that!'

  'My friend is not young,' M. d'Agen retorted, bowing. He is agentleman of birth, M. Villequier; by repute, as I learned yesterday,one of the best swordsmen in France, and no Gascon. If you feelinclined to arrest him, do so, I pray. And I will have the honour ofengaging your son.'

  As we had all by this time our hands on our swor
ds, there needed but ablow to bring about one of those street brawls which were more commonthen than now. A number of market-people, drawn to the spot by ourraised voices, had gathered round, and were waiting eagerly to seewhat would happen. But Villequier, as my companion perhaps knew, was aGascon in heart as well as by birth, and seeing our determinedaspects, thought better of it. Shrugging his shoulders with anaffectation of disdain which imposed on no one, he signalled to hisservants to go on, and himself stood aside.

  'I thank you for your polite offer,' he said with an evil smile, 'andwill remember it. But as you say, sir, I am not the Provost-Marshal.'

  Paying little heed to his words, we bowed, passed him, and hurried on.But the peril was not over. Not only had the _rencontre_ cost us someprecious minutes, but the Gascon, after letting us proceed a littleway, followed us. And word being passed by his servants, as wesupposed, that one of us was the murderer of Father Antoine, therumour spread through the crowd like wildfire, and in a few moments wefound ourselves attended by a troop of _canaille_ who, hanging on ourskirts, caused Simon Fleix no little apprehension. Notwithstanding thecontempt which M. d'Agen, whose bearing throughout was admirable,expressed for them, we might have found it necessary to turn and teachthem a lesson had we not reached M. de Rambouillet's in the nick oftime; where we found the door surrounded by half a dozen armedservants, at sight of whom our persecutors fell back with thecowardice which is usually found in that class.

  If I had been tempted of late to think M. de Rambouillet fickle, I hadno reason to complain now; whether his attitude was due to M. d'Agen'srepresentations, or to the reflection that without me the plans he hadat heart must miscarry. I found him waiting within, attended by threegentlemen, all cloaked and ready for the road; while the air ofpurpose which sat on his brow indicated that he thought the crisis nocommon one. Not a moment was lost, even in explanations. Waving me tothe door again, and exchanging a few sentences with his nephew, hegave the word to start, and we issued from the house in a body.Doubtless the fact that those who sought to ruin me were his politicalenemies had some weight with him; for I saw his face harden as hiseyes met those of M. de Villequier, who passed slowly before the dooras we came out. The Gascon, however, was not the man to interfere withso large a party, and dropped back; while M. de Rambouillet, afterexchanging a cold salute with him, led the way towards the Castle at around pace. His nephew and I walked one on either side of him, and theothers, to the number of ten or eleven, pressed on behind in a compactbody, our cortege presenting so determined a front that the crowd,which had remained hanging about the door, fled every way. Even somepeaceable folk who found themselves in our road took the precaution ofslipping into doorways, or stood aside to give us the full width ofthe street.

  I remarked--and I think it increased my anxiety--that our leader wasdressed with more than usual care and richness, but, unlike hisattendants, wore no arms. He took occasion, as we hurried along, togive me a word of advice. 'M. de Marsac,' he said, looking at mesuddenly, 'my nephew has given me to understand that you placeyourself entirely in my hands.'

  I replied that I asked for no better fortune, and, whatever the event,thanked him from the bottom of my heart.

  'Be pleased then to keep silence until I bid you speak,' he repliedsharply, for he was one of those whom a sudden stress sours andexacerbates. 'And, above all, no violence without my orders. We areabout to fight a battle, and a critical one, but it must be won withour heads. If we can we will keep you out of the Provost-Marshal'shands.'

  And if not? I remembered the threats Father Antoine had used, and in amoment I lost sight of the street with all its light and life andmovement. I felt no longer the wholesome stinging of the wind. Itasted instead a fetid air, and saw round me a narrow cell and maskedfigures, and in particular a swathy man in a leather apron leaningover a brazier, from whim came lurid flames. And I was bound. Iexperienced that utter helplessness which is the last test of courage.The man came forward, and then--then, thank God! the vision passedaway. An exclamation to which M. d'Agen gave vent, brought me back tothe present, and to the blessed knowledge that the fight was not yetover.

  We were within a score of paces, I found, of the Castle gates: but sowere also a second party, who had just debouched from a side-street,and now hurried on, pace for pace, with us, with the evident intentionof forestalling us. The race ended in both companies reaching theentrance at the same time, with the consequence of some jostlingtaking place amongst the servants. This must have led to blows but forthe strenuous commands which M. de Rambouillet had laid upon hisfollowers. I found myself in a moment confronted by a row of scowlingfaces, while a dozen threatening hands were stretched out towards me,and as many voices, among which I recognised Fresnoy's, cried outtumultuously, 'That is he! That is the one!'

  An elderly man in a quaint dress stepped forward, a paper in his hand,and, backed as he was by half a dozen halberdiers, would in a momenthave laid hands on me if M. de Rambouillet had not intervened with anegligent air of authority, which sat on him the more gracefully as heheld nothing but a riding-switch in his hands. 'Tut, tut! What isthis?' he said lightly. 'I am not wont to have my people interferedwith, M. Provost, without my leave. You know me, I suppose?'

  'Perfectly, M. le Marquis,' the man answered with dogged respect; 'butthis is by the king's special command.'

  'Very good,' my patron answered, quietly eyeing the faces behind theProvost-Marshal, as if he were making a note of them; which causedsome of the gentlemen manifest uneasiness. 'That is soon seen, for weare even now about to seek speech with his Majesty.'

  'Not this gentleman,' the Provost-Marshal answered firmly, raising hishand again. 'I can not let him pass.'

  'Yes, this gentleman too, by your leave,' the Marquis retorted,lightly putting the hand aside with his cane.

  'Sir,' said the other, retreating a step and speaking with some heat,'this is no jest with all respect. I hold the king's own order, and itmay not be resisted.'

  The nobleman tapped his silver comfit-box and smiled. 'I shall be thelast to resist it--if you have it,' he said languidly.

  'You may read it for yourself,' the Provost-Marshal answered, hispatience exhausted.

  M. de Rambouillet took the parchment with the ends of his fingers,glanced at it, and gave it back. 'As I thought,' he said, 'a manifestforgery.'

  'A forgery!' cried the officer, crimson with indignation. 'And I hadit from the hands of the king's own secretary!' At this those behindmurmured, some 'shame,' and some one thing, and some another--all withan air so threatening that the Marquis's gentlemen closed up behindhim, and M. d'Agen laughed rudely.

  But M. de Rambouillet remained unmoved. 'You may have had it from whomyou please, sir,' he said. 'It is a forgery, and I shall resist itsexecution. If you choose to await me here, I will give you my word torender this gentleman to you within an hour, should the order holdgood. If you will not wait, I shall command my servants to clear theway, and if ill happen, then the responsibility will lie with you.'

  He spoke in so resolute a manner it was not difficult to see thatsomething more was at stake than the arrest of a single man. This wasso; the real issue was whether the king, with whose instability it wasdifficult to cope, should fall back into the hands of his old advisersor not. My arrest was a move in the game intended as a counterblast tothe victory which M. de Rambouillet had gained when he persuaded theking to move to Tours; a city in the neighbourhood of the Huguenots,and a place of arms whence union with them would be easy.

  The Provost-Marshal could, no doubt, make a shrewd guess at thesethings. He knew that the order he had would be held valid or notaccording as one party or the other gained the mastery; and, seeing M.de Rambouillet's resolute demeanour, he gave way. Rudely interruptedmore than once by his attendants, among whom were some of Bruhl's men,he muttered an ungracious assent to our proposal; on which, andwithout a moment's delay, the Marquis took me by the arm and hurriedme across the courtyard.

  And so far, well. My heart began to rise. B
ut, for the Marquis, as wemounted the staircase the anxiety he had dissembled while we faced theProvost-Marshal, broke out in angry mutterings; from which I gatheredthat the crisis was yet to come. I was not surprised, therefore, whenan usher rose on our appearance in the antechamber, and, quicklycrossing the floor, interposed between us and the door of the chamber,informing the Marquis with a low obeisance that his Majesty wasengaged.

  'He will see me,' M. de Rambouillet cried, looking haughtily round onthe sneering pages and lounging courtiers, who grew civil under hiseye.

  'I have particular orders, sir, to admit no one,' the man answered.

  'Tut, tut, they do not apply to me,' my companion retorted, nothingdaunted. 'I know the business on which the king is engaged, and I amhere to assist him.' And raising his hand he thrust the startledofficial aside, and hardily pushed the doors of the chamber open.

  The king, surrounded by half a dozen persons, was in the act ofputting on his riding-boots. On hearing us, he turned his head with astartled air, and dropped in his confusion one of the ivory cylindershe was using; while his aspect, and that of the persons who stoodround him, reminded me irresistibly of a party of schoolboys detectedin a fault.

  He recovered himself, it is true, almost immediately; and turning hisback to us, continued to talk to the persons round him on suchtrifling subjects as commonly engaged him. He carried on thisconversation in a very free way, studiously ignoring our presence; butit was plain he remained aware of it, and even that he was uneasyunder the cold and severe gaze which the Marquis, who seemed in nowiseaffrighted by his reception, bent upon him.

  I, for my part, had no longer any confidence. Nay, I came near toregretting that I had persevered in an attempt so useless. The warrantwhich awaited me at the gates seemed less formidable than hisMajesty's growing displeasure; which I saw I was incurring byremaining where I was. It needed not the insolent glance of MarshalRetz, who lounged smiling by the king's hand, or the laughter of acouple of pages who stood at the head of the chamber, to deprive me ofmy last hope; while some things which might have cheered me--theuneasiness of some about the king, and the disquietude which underlayMarshal Retz's manner--escaped my notice altogether.

  What I did see clearly was that the king's embarrassment was fastchanging to anger. The paint which reddened his cheeks prevented anyalteration in his colour being visible, but his frown and the nervousmanner in which he kept taking off and putting on his jewelled capbetrayed him. At length, signing to one of his companions to follow,he moved a little aside to a window, whence, after a few moments, thegentleman came to us.

  'M. de Rambouillet,' he said, speaking coldly and formally, 'hisMajesty is displeased by this gentleman's presence, and requires himto withdraw forthwith.'

  'His Majesty's word is law,' my patron answered, bowing low, andspeaking in a clear voice audible throughout the chamber, 'but thematter which brings this gentleman here is of the utmost importance,and touches his Majesty's person.'

  M. de Retz laughed jeeringly. The other courtiers looked grave. Theking shrugged his shoulders with a peevish gesture, but after amoment's hesitation, during which he looked first at Retz and then atM. de Rambouillet, he signed to the Marquis to approach.

  'Why have you brought him here?' he muttered sharply, looking askanceat me. 'He should have been bestowed according to my orders.'

  'He has information for your Majesty's private ear,' Rambouilletanswered. And he looked so meaningly at the king that Henry, I think,remembered on a sudden his compact with Rosny, and my part in it; forhe started with the air of a man suddenly awakened. 'To prevent thatinformation reaching you, sire,' my patron continued, 'his enemieshave practised on your Majesty's well-known sense of justice.'

  'Oh, but stay, stay!' the king cried, hitching forward the scantycloak he wore, which barely came down to his waist. 'The man haskilled a priest! He has killed a priest, man!' he repeated withconfidence, as if he had now got hold of the right argument.

  'That is not so, sire, craving your Majesty's pardon,' M. deRambouillet replied with the utmost coolness.

  'Tut! Tut! The evidence is clear,' the king said peevishly.

  'As to that, sire,' my companion rejoined, 'if it is of the murder ofFather Antoine he is accused, I say boldly that there is none.'

  'Then there you are mistaken!' the king answered. 'I heard it with myown ears this morning.'

  'Will you deign, sire, to tell me its nature?' M. de Rambouilletpersisted.

  But on that Marshal Retz thought it necessary to intervene. 'Need weturn his Majesty's chamber into a court of justice?' he said smoothly.Hitherto he had not spoken; trusting, perhaps, to the impression hehad already made upon the king.

  M. de Rambouillet took no notice of him.

  'But Bruhl,' said the king, 'you see, Bruhl says----'

  'Bruhl!' my companion replied, with so much contempt that Henrystarted. 'Surely your Majesty has not taken his word against thisgentleman, of all people?'

  Thus reminded, a second time, of the interests entrusted to me, and ofthe advantage which Bruhl would gain by my disappearance, the kinglooked first confused, and then angry. He vented his passion in one ortwo profane oaths, with the childish addition that we were all a setof traitors, and that he had no one whom he could trust. But mycompanion had touched the right chord at last; for when the king grewmore composed, he waved aside Marshal Retz's protestations, andsullenly bade Rambouillet say what he had to say.

  'The monk was killed, sire, about sunset,' he answered. 'Now mynephew, M. d'Agen, is without, and will tell your Majesty that he waswith this gentleman at his lodgings from about an hour before sunsetlast evening until a full hour after. Consequently, M. de Marsac canhardly be the assassin, and M. le Marechal must look elsewhere if hewants vengeance.'

  'Justice, sir, not vengeance,' Marshal Retz said with a dark glance.His keen Italian face hid his trouble well, but a little pulse ofpassion beating in his olive cheek betrayed the secret to those whoknew him. He had a harder part to play than his opponent; for whileRambouillet's hands were clean, Retz knew himself a traitor, andliable at any moment to discovery and punishment.

  'Let M. d'Agen be called,' Henry said curtly.

  'And if your Majesty pleases,' Retz added, 'M. de Bruhl also. If youreally intend, sire, that is, to reopen a matter which I thought hadbeen settled.'

  The king nodded obstinately, his face furrowed with ill-temper. Hekept his shifty eyes, which seldom met those of the person headdressed, on the floor; and this accentuated the awkward stoopingcarriage which was natural to him. There were seven or eight dogs ofexceeding smallness in the room, and while we waited for the personswho had been summoned, he kicked, now one and now another of thebaskets which held them, as if he found in this some vent for hisill-humour.

  The witnesses presently appeared, followed by several persons, amongwhom were the Dukes of Nevers and Merc[oe]ur, who came to ride outwith the king, and M. de Crillon; so that the chamber grew passablyfull. The two dukes nodded formally to the Marquis, as they passedhim, but entered into a muttered conversation with Retz, who appearedto be urging them to press his cause. They seemed to decline, however,shrugging their short cloaks as if the matter were too insignificant.Crillon on his part cried audibly, and with an oath, to know what thematter was; and being informed, asked whether all this fuss was beingmade about a damned shaveling monk.

  Henry, whose tenderness for the cowl was well known, darted an angryglance at him, but contented himself with saying sharply to M. d'Agen,'Now, sir, what do you know about the matter?'

  'One moment, sire,' M. Rambouillet cried, interposing before Francoiscould answer. 'Craving your Majesty's pardon, you have heard M. deBruhl's account. May I, as a favour to myself, beg you, sire, topermit us also to hear it?'

  'What?' Marshal Retz exclaimed angrily, 'are we to be the judges,then, or his Majesty? Arnidieu!' he continued hotly, 'what, in thefiend's name, have we to do with it? I protest 'fore Heaven----'

  'Ay, sir, and what do you protest?' my
champion retorted, turning tohim with stern disdain.

  'Silence!' cried the king, who had listened almost bewildered.'Silence! By God, gentlemen,' he continued, his eye travelling roundthe circle with a sparkle of royal anger in it not unworthy of hiscrown, 'you forget yourselves. I will have none of this quarrelling inmy presence or out of it. I lost Quelus and Maugiron that way, andloss enough, and I will have none of it, I say! M. de Bruhl,' headded, standing erect, and looking for the moment, with all his paintand frippery, a king, 'M. de Bruhl, repeat your story.'

  The feelings with which I listened to this controversy may beimagined. Devoured in turn by hope and fear as now one side and nowthe other seemed likely to prevail, I confronted at one moment thegloom of the dungeon, and at another tasted the air of freedom, whichhad never seemed so sweet before. Strong as these feelings were,however, they gave way to curiosity at this point; when I heard Bruhlcalled, and saw him come forward at the king's command. Knowing thisman to be himself guilty, I marvelled with what face he would presenthimself before all those eyes, and from what depths of impudence hecould draw supplies in such an emergency.

  I need not have troubled myself, however, for he was fully equal tothe occasion. His high colour and piercing black eyes met the gaze offriend and foe alike without flinching. Dressed well and elegantly, hewore his raven hair curled in the mode, and looked alike gay,handsome, and imperturbable. If there was a suspicion of coarsenessabout his bulkier figure, as he stood beside M. d'Agen, who was thecourtier perfect and point devise, it went to the scale of sincerity,seeing that men naturally associate truth with strength.

  'I know no more than this, sire,' he said easily; 'that, happening tocross the Parvis at the moment of the murder, I heard Father Antoinescream. He uttered four words only, in the tone of a man in mortalperil. They were'--and here the speaker looked for an instant atme--'Ha! Marsac! A moi!'

  'Indeed!' M. de Rambouillet said, after looking to the king forpermission. 'And that was all? You saw nothing?'

  Bruhl shook his head. 'It was too dark,' he said.

  'And heard no more?'

  'No.'

  'Do I understand, then,' the Marquis continued slowly, 'that M. deMarsac is arrested because the priest--God rest his soul!--cried tohim for help?'

  'For help?' M. de Retz exclaimed fiercely.

  'For help?' said the king, surprised. And at that the most ludicrouschange fell upon the faces of all. The king looked puzzled, the Dukeof Nevers smiled, the Duke of Merc[oe]ur laughed aloud. Crillon criedboisterously, 'Good hit!' and the majority, who wished no better thanto divine the winning party, grinned broadly, whether they would orno.

  To Marshal Retz, however, and Bruhl, that which to everyone elseseemed an amusing retort had a totally different aspect; while theformer turned yellow with chagrin and came near to choking, the latterlooked as chapfallen and startled as if his guilt had been that momentbrought home to him. Assured by the tone of the monk's voice--whichmust, indeed, have thundered in his ears--that my name was uttered indenunciation by one who thought me his assailant, he had chosen totell the truth without reflecting that words, so plain to him, mightbear a different construction when repeated.

  'Certainly the words seem ambiguous,' Henry muttered.

  'But it was Marsac killed him,' Retz cried in a rage.

  'It is for some evidence of that we are waiting,' my champion answeredsuavely.

  The Marshal looked helplessly at Nevers and Merc[oe]ur, who commonlytook part with him; but apparently those noblemen had not been primedfor this occasion. They merely shook their heads and smiled. In themomentary silence which followed, while all looked curiously at Bruhl,who could not conceal his mortification, M. d'Agen stepped forward.

  'If your Majesty will permit me,' he said, a malicious simper crossinghis handsome face--I had often remarked his extreme dislike for Bruhlwithout understanding it--'I think I can furnish some evidence more tothe point than that to which M. de Bruhl has with so much fairnessrestricted himself.' He then went on to state that he had had thehonour of being in my company at the time of the murder; and he added,besides, so many details as to exculpate me to the satisfaction of anycandid person.

  The king nodded. 'That settles the matter,' he said, with a sigh ofrelief. 'You think so, Merc[oe]ur, do you not? Precisely. Villequier,see that the order respecting M. de Marsac is cancelled.'

  M. de Retz could not control his wrath on hearing this directiongiven. 'At this rate,' he cried recklessly, 'we shall have few priestsleft here! We have got a bad name at Blois, as it is!'

  For a moment all in the circle held their breath, while the king'seyes flashed fire at this daring allusion to the murder of the Duke deGuise, and his brother the Cardinal. But it was Henry's misfortune tobe ever indulgent in the wrong place, and severe when severity waseither unjust or impolitic. He recovered himself with an effort, andrevenged himself only by omitting to invite the Marshal, who was nowtrembling in his shoes, to join his riding-party.

  The circle broke up amid some excitement. I stood on one side with M.d'Agen, while the king and his immediate following passed out, and,greatly embarrassed as I was by the civil congratulating of many whowould have seen me hang with equal goodwill, I was sharp enough to seethat something was brewing between Bruhl and Marshal Retz, who stoodback conversing in low tones. I was not surprised, therefore, when theformer made his way towards me through the press which filled theantechamber, and with a lowering brow requested a word with me.

  'Certainly,' I said, watching him narrowly, for I knew him to be bothtreacherous and a bully. 'Speak on, sir.'

  'You have baulked me once and again,' he rejoined, in a voice whichshook a little, as did the fingers with which he stroked his waxedmoustache. 'There is no need of words between us. I, with one swordbesides, will to-morrow at noon keep the bridge at Chaverny, a leaguefrom here. It is an open country. Possibly your pleasure may lead youto ride that way with a friend?'

  'You may depend upon me, sir,' I answered, bowing low, and feelingthankful that the matter was at length to be brought to a fair andopen arbitration. 'I will be there--and in person. For my deputy lastnight,' I added, searching his face with a steadfast eye, 'seems tohave been somewhat unlucky.'