CHAPTER XV
When Roberval returned to his castle, and the great iron gates flew backto admit him, he was amazed to see, standing in the courtyard, thestalwart form of La Pommeraye. He knew that the young man had gone toCanada, and he had hoped that the New World, which had swallowed up somany valiant Frenchmen, would have found him a grave. For a moment hecould find no words to address his enemy--for as such he now saw fromhis defiant mien that La Pommeraye had come. But the old domineeringself-confidence returned at once.
"Why loiters a son of France in the paths of peace when the foe, whopresses down upon us, calls for every sword in the kingdom?" heexclaimed.
"My sword has never been found in the scabbard when the King had need ofit," replied Charles, and he added, threateningly, "nor will it ever beallowed to rust when the weak call for help, or if they are beyond help,for revenge."
Roberval blanched. He saw that La Pommeraye had in some way become awareof his infamous treatment of his niece and De Pontbriand. He knew, too,that the young lion was roused, and that a false step on his part wouldcost him his life. He suddenly changed his tactics.
"Pardon an old soldier, M. de la Pommeraye," he said, "but I have justcome from a hot field where a few such swords as yours would have turnedthe tide of battle in our favour. I forgot for the moment that you musthave but lately arrived from the New World, whither King Francis told mehe had sent you to recall me." With an assumed innocence he added: "I amweary from the fight, and the long ride through the mud; but when I havehad a night's rest I have much to say to you, and shall expect you in myapartment in the morning. Perhaps you may be persuaded to accompany meback to camp."
"Never! I serve no tyrant!" said Charles bluntly. "My sword has othertasks before it."
"You are bold, M. de la Pommeraye, to stand single-handed in my courtand use such language to me. Have you brought any attendants with you?"
"No. I came alone. I had no desire that others should know the cause ofmy journey to Picardy."
"It is well," said De Roberval, and to himself he muttered: "And no oneshall see you go hence. M. de la Pommeraye," he said aloud, "does notwisely to believe all the old wives' tales he has heard. But thesethings are not for the ears of the world. To-morrow we shall meet, and,after our conference, I have no doubt we shall journey hence together.Etienne will see to your wants. The north tower, Etienne; it isMonsieur's old room."
As he spoke, he leaped from his horse and entered the castle. When hewas alone in his room he fell on a couch and groaned in spirit. His sinwas finding him out. His fair young niece rose before him, and he seemedto hear her voice as she had bade him farewell. The vision would notdown. At length he rose, and, draining a wine-cup, strode up and downthe room, muttering defiance at his enemies. "I was but God's servantpunishing vice," he said to himself, "and this fool who dares beard mein my stronghold shall feel the weight of my hand. He shall die, and thetorture his existence inflicts on me shall end. We shall go hencetogether, indeed, but he shall be carried forth. I would not even lethis body remain within my castle walls."
Kill La Pommeraye himself he knew he could not, but the old honour ofthe man had become so sapped that he felt little compunction when heresolved to have him murdered under his own roof. He knew that his ownlife was not safe a moment while La Pommeraye lived; and he knew,moreover, that should the truth of the story get abroad, his hopes ofadvancement and honour would be at an end. There was no help for it; hehad gone too far to retreat. Charles must not be allowed to leave thecastle alive.
In Etienne, De Roberval thought he had a faithful ally. Twice had thelad helped him to remove foes whom his rank would not allow him tomeet, and yet whom he could not send to the gallows. But he had reckonedwithout his host this time. Etienne was a faithful henchman of the Houseof Roberval, and he had aided his master when he thought the honour ofthe family was at stake; but ever since the dim mists of the Isle ofDemons had faded from his sight, he had, with difficulty, kept hisstrong, young hands from seizing his master by the throat, and chokinghis life out. If he honoured the name he served, he worshipped thememory of Marguerite; and now that La Pommeraye had come, as hegathered, to avenge her, he was ready to fall at his feet, to follow himto the ends of the earth, to the very Isle of Demons, if necessary.
Roberval guessed naught of all this. The heavy peasant face, the dulleyes, well concealed the workings of the man's soul when the noblemancalled him into his presence, and hinted that he would need his swordthe next day. Etienne guessed his purpose at once, and, when the planwas revealed, would fain have run his master through the heart, but hisface and eye had an ox-like lack of intelligence.
"Are you ready to risk your life in this enterprise?" said the nobleman."It is for the honour of the House of Roberval."
"I am at your service, Sieur," said Etienne, quietly.
"You have seen the man to-day, and you know his strength?"
Etienne bowed.
"You must bring three daring fellows with you. Three of the soldierswho accompanied me here to-day will do. You can instruct them. Guidethem through the armory, and by yonder passage to this room. The curtainwill conceal you. Make no noise; he is a wary foe. When I draw my swordupon him, strike him down ere he can turn. Give him no chance; he is nota man to be trifled with."
Again Etienne signified a stolid assent.
"Away now, and let not your fellows know my signal. A false step willcost them their lives at La Pommeraye's hand. And let not a word escapeyou, or I will string all four of you to the nearest tree. So, away! andsee that you are punctual. Let the good work be well done."
The stoical Picard withdrew from his master's presence, but muttered tohimself as he went down the long hall which led to the square: "It willgo hard, but I will see that the good work is, indeed, well done."
Charles de la Pommeraye was pretty well worn out by the amount oftravelling he had done, and he was glad when Etienne left him, and hecould throw himself on his couch to sleep. But the air seemedoppressive. He felt that there was treachery in it, and, rising, hebolted and barred the door of his room, and placed his trusty swordwithin reach of his hand. Still he could not rest, and tossed about,seeing both the hard face of De Roberval before him, and the ruggedoutlines of the barren, northern island with the beckoning smoke curlingupward.
Midnight came; and when everything was at rest save the clink, clank ofthe sentry's footfall as he walked back and forth on the wall, LaPommeraye raised himself on his elbow, and listened. A rat seemed to begnawing at the wall. "Hard food, these stones," he said to himself."Methinks," he added, as the sound grew louder, "the rat hath strongteeth."
The next instant the moonlight, which streamed in at the high window,showed him a part of the solid wall moving back, and, in the opening, aman, tall, square-shouldered, with a bull-neck, stood silent. Charles'hand found his sword, and, leaping from his bed, he sprang at theintruder.
When Etienne left his master, instead of going to the part of the castlewhere the troopers were quartered, he went without the wall altogether,and walked up and down in silent meditation. He was planning a course ofaction, and his slow wit was tardy in mapping it out. La Pommeraye mustbe warned, and must leave the castle; but how to manage this withoutcalling down on himself the wrath of De Roberval was no easy problem forEtienne to solve. But he soon determined on one part of his plan. Hewould warn La Pommeraye himself. He would then have the rest of thenight to plan his own escape; and perhaps La Pommeraye might be able tohelp him out of his difficulty.
He knew a dozen ways of entering and leaving the castle without beingseen, and stealing in by one of them, he waited till midnight, when DeRoberval, who was ever likely to be prowling about, would be almostsure to be at rest. Many of the rooms had secret passages leading tothem from outside, and La Pommeraye's was one of these. Etienne couldtraverse their windings as easily as he could the halls of the interior,and he resolved to seek an entrance to La Pommeraye's room, and tell himthe whole story.
He found the bol
t of the door after some groping about, but it had longremained unused, and required many vigorous pulls to make it move. Atlast it shot back, and, as he pressed his sturdy shoulders against thewall, the secret door swung open.
When La Pommeraye leaped forward with drawn sword, Etienne showed nosign of fear.
"It is I, Monsieur," he said, with unmoved slowness.
La Pommeraye lowered his weapon, and exclaimed:
"What brings you here at this hour? I thought you were one of DeRoberval's hired assassins."
"So I am, Monsieur," replied the Picard, with grim humour. "I am to heada band of them to take your life."
La Pommeraye laughed.
"And where are your fellows, since you are here to put an end to mycareer?" he asked.
"Monsieur asks too many questions. I have not exactly come here toassassinate you, but to tell you the time, the place, and the manner inwhich it is to be done. As to my fellows--my master left the carryingout of the plot to me; and I thought it best to tell you first, beforepreparing them for the----"
"Slaughter! I see, good Etienne!" and La Pommeraye burst into a heartylaugh at the way De Roberval's servant had outwitted him.
"Monsieur has an interview with the Sieur de Roberval to-morrowmorning?" questioned the man.
"Yes, most worthy Etienne."
"In the east tower, in my master's room. I am to admit you to that room;and, having done it, I am to lead three other murderers, like myself,"said Etienne, with a grin at his own wit, "by a secret passage similarto the one by which I entered your room just now. We are to await asignal from my master--the raising of his sword--and then we are to fallupon you and make sure of our work. He warned me that if we made a botchof it you would probably send us all to Heaven, and if we let aught beknown about it, we should all be hanged; and so, methinks, I had bettergo be hanged."
Charles could not restrain his amusement at the doleful sincerity withwhich the last words were uttered. On other lips the closing remarkwould have sounded like dry humour; but Etienne's voice showed that heexpected no better fate.
"So, your master pays me the compliment of hiring no less than four mento kill me," said Charles. "And what do you propose to do, now that youhave warned me?"
"I know not, Monsieur. It took me an hour walking up and down outsidethe gate to get thus far. Another hour's thinking may help me to findsome way of escape from the Sieur de Roberval's wrath."
"I fear, good Etienne, he will never forgive you if his plotmiscarries. He is not a man to break his promises. Perhaps we may see aneasier way out of it than by means of a rope. Who commands the guardto-night?"
"Pierre Dablon."
"Would he let you pass without doubting your word?"
"Ay, that he would! Pierre has too often felt the strength of my arm todoubt my word."
"The way is plain, then! Go to the stables, saddle your master's bestand fleetest horse, and put as many leagues between you and this castleas you can before the time comes to lead your fellows to my death. TellPierre you are sent out by De Roberval with a message that brooks nodelay, and, seeing you so mounted, he will question you no further. Takethis ring, and keep your horse warm till you reach St Malo. Enquire outMaster Jacques Cartier; every Malouin can direct you to him. Show himthe ring, and he will provide for you till I come. And say not a word ofyour master's attempt on my life. Let none but Master Cartier's earshear the story of Mdlle. de Roberval and M. de Pontbriand. The worlddoes not understand. They may still be alive, and we will bring themback; and all France shall hear their story from their own lips."
Etienne could only fall on his knees and kiss Charles' hand inspeechless gratitude.
"But, Monsieur," he exclaimed, "will you not come with me? My masterwill certainly kill you; and the castle is full of cut-throats who willobey him for hire."
"Nay, nay, good Etienne. Away to St Malo. I have a meeting with yourmaster to-morrow. I will find my own way to his room; and in the courseof a week expect me at St Malo."
Etienne left him, and in half an hour's time was galloping along themuddy roads, on which great puddles gleamed like silver shields. As herode on, he pondered what manner of man it was whom he had just left,and how, knowing that his life was in danger, he could loiter in thevery stronghold of his enemy.
On the morrow, at the appointed hour, Charles presented himself in DeRoberval's room. The nobleman met him with his usual frigid politeness.He was somewhat alarmed at seeing him enter unannounced by Etienne.
"How found you your way hither?" he enquired.
"Etienne Brule, the faithful fellow who has waited on me since I enteredyour castle, directed me, Sieur," replied Charles.
"He is indeed a faithful fellow," said De Roberval, with a tinge ofirony in his hard voice. "But now tell me more plainly the reason ofthis visit."
"The Sieur de Roberval knows only too well."
"Impossible, since you have not yet told me. Your vague hints of lastnight conveyed but little meaning. If you have ought to say, speak outboldly and bluntly, as a soldier should ever speak."
"Yes, and act," said Charles curtly.
"What do you mean?" cried De Roberval.
"If your answer does not satisfy me when I have spoken plainly, you willsoon learn my meaning," said Charles.
"Dare you threaten me?" and De Roberval laid his hand on his sword.
Charles imitated his action.
"Keep that plaything where it is. I have here at my side the sword Iwore on the Sillon. Your weapon might shrink from its touch."
"Curse you!" hissed De Roberval; but remembering how girt about withfoes was Charles, he checked himself, and with an evil smile said: "Iforgot for a moment that you are my guest, with a petition to offer. Outwith it! There is nothing I should not be willing to grant you."
"It is of Mdlle. de Roberval I have come to speak," said Charles, with asternness which made the nobleman tremble lest his plans shouldmiscarry. "Since I returned to France, two months ago, strange tales ofyour brutal treatment of your niece have reached my ears. I have come toyou to find out the truth of these tales. If they are true, I will cutyou off as a cursed thing among men. If you can prove them false, Iswear I will defend your honour against every man who insults it byrepeating them."
"I need no champion," said De Roberval testily. "I have done no wrong.Your friend, whom I trusted, whom I took into my house, whom I sawnursed back to life in this very room, proved a faithless ingrate, andbetrayed the trust I had placed in him."
"Liar!" came from between Charles' set teeth.
But De Roberval, unheeding the interruption, went on:
"To save my niece's honour I took her with me to the New World, and badeher lover venture not on board my vessel. But scarcely were we a day atsea when he stood by her side, having found his way on board among agang of criminals. He disgraced the name of De Roberval before the wholeworld. I put him in chains for his disobedience; and still he seduced myniece to his side. Could I, as a just ruler, spare my own? I put her onan island in the northern seas, with the two jades who had abetted hercrime; and her wretched paramour leaped into the ocean, and doubtlessperished ere he reached the shore."
Charles stood pale and trembling with the effort to restrain himself, ashe listened to this recital, and De Roberval exulted in the thought thatin another moment he would see the man whom he now no longer dreadedlying dead at his feet. At last La Pommeraye found his tongue.
"Take back that lie!" he thundered, "or, by the holy cross, I will pluckthe tongue that uttered it from your false throat! Claude a deceiver!Marguerite a----" but he could get no further. He was about to draw hissword, when he saw De Roberval's weapon flash upwards. The actionrecalled him to his senses. He remembered that this was to be the signalfor the assassins. He reached out a sudden hand, seized De Roberval bythe throat, and dashed him headlong against the wall. The shock stunnedhim for a moment, and his sword fell ringing on the floor. Charlespicked it up, snapped it across his knee, and flung the pieces at thenobleman.
"A wretched weapon," said he, "fit for a coward."
De Roberval raised himself, and sat glaring at the wrathful giant.
"You are surprised," said La Pommeraye, "that I have not killed you. Itis not mercy; I but respect the hospitality of your roof. I will let youlive for a time, tortured by your coward's conscience, and then I willstrike you down. Assassin, your plot was discovered. You thought to havemurdered me in your own house--you, who were once noble enough to strikeat your own breast when you thought yourself defeated. Your peasantshave more nobility. Etienne, whom you entrusted with the carrying out ofyour plan, told me the whole story, and I have sent him safely on hisway on your best horse. Follow not his steps, or the Duke of Guise willmake you feel his iron hand. You have still a few months to live. Ipassed the Isle of Demons, and saw your niece's watchfire beckoning meashore. I return thither at once. If they are still alive I will comeback and crave the King to mete out to you the punishment you deserve;if they have perished I will hack you limb from limb. Attempt not tofollow me, or to send your dogs after me, or your days will suddenly beshortened."
Leaving the nobleman still half-stunned by the stinging blow he hadreceived, and speechless at the threats he had listened to, especiallyat the mention of the Duke of Guise, Charles strode from the castle,mounted his horse, which awaited him at the gate, and rode away with afury which put all chance of pursuit out of the question.
As he rode on with white face and set teeth, no one seeing him wouldhave thought that the fierce eye and stern expression could havebelonged to the dashing dare-devil, the prince of cavaliers andduellists, of a year before.
Marguerite De Roberval: A Romance of the Days of Jacques Cartier Page 15
