Vayenne

by Percy James Brebner

  CHAPTER XXVII

  ONLY THE FOOL

  Roger Herrick signed the last of the papers upon his table, andleaning back in his chair looked at Lemasle, who had entered the rooma few moments before. Jean squatted in his favorite attitude on thefloor beside Herrick's chair.

  "Yes, yes, Lemasle, all you say is true. While they live, some menwill plot and scheme, but to me this seems no reason why I should killthem."

  "Sir, once before I said you were too lenient; was I wrong?"

  "No; you were right, yet I would be lenient again. Do I disappointyou, Lemasle?"

  "Only in this, sir. Justice and expediency demand that traitors shouldpay the penalty of their treachery."

  "There must be something wanting in my nature to make me an idealDuke."

  "Sir, Montvilliers is proud of her Duke, and every day, every hour,the people grow to love you better."

  "Surely then we can afford to be lenient," said Herrick.

  "Not to traitors," Lemasle answered promptly. "Count Felix despisedyour leniency. De Bornais, whom you trusted, rebelled, and would havesold his country."

  "And Mademoiselle de Liancourt?" asked Herrick quietly.

  "She is a woman, sir."

  "And is a woman never a traitor?" asked Herrick.

  "At least Mademoiselle loves her country, and perhaps----" The captainpaused, and looked at Herrick.

  "Well, Lemasle?"

  "The sentence is best left unfinished, but women's love finds strangeways of revenging itself if it is scorned," said the Captain.

  Herrick did not answer, but Jean, either of set purpose or byaccident, made his bells jingle for a moment.

  "I would once more urge stringent measures, sir," Lemasle went onafter a pause. "The people expect it. They look for such measures tobring peace to the country. You are reluctant to let justice take itscourse, and it may be that I understand something of your mind inthis, but, if I may advise, why not postpone judgment? In a few daysthe nobles will be assembled in Vayenne, let them decide against theCount and de Bornais as they will. Have they not often in times pastbeen summoned to give decision in such a case? Why should you givejudgment to-day?"

  "Because, Lemasle, I fear the justice of the nobles," Herrickanswered. "My orders must stand. See that the prisoners are broughtinto the hall. And, captain, think presently of some honor you covet,and it shall be yours. If we are slow to condemn, we would be quick inour rewards."

  "Sir, your trust, your friendship almost, leaves me covetous of littleelse."

  "Yet think, Lemasle. Dukes die, or are deposed, it is well to takesomething off them while they have the power to give. We will talk ofthis again."

  Lemasle saluted, and withdrew.

  "What would that good soldier say if he knew?" mused Herrick.

  "I wonder," said Jean.

  "I had forgotten you," said Herrick, with a start. "Did I put mythought into words?"

  "You spoke, friend Roger, and have still some secrets, it would seem."

  "Many, Jean. I will tell you one. I am not fitted to be a Duke."

  "In that matter, at least, I should leave others to be the judges,"said the dwarf.

  "None can judge a man so well as he can judge himself if he will onlybe honest," Herrick returned. "I spoke inadvisedly, Jean, the otherday, and it has quickly resulted in tragedy. Would I had been in timeto save Father Bertrand."

  "You avenged him," said Jean.

  "And for my action stood reproved by one of my own soldiers. My ownwords were quoted against me."

  "Yet the priest was a rebel," said the dwarf slowly. "There is much inwhat Captain Lemasle says."

  "True, but there are always other points of view besides our own. Evendukes have no monopoly in such a thing as truth. I have tried to do agreat deal, Jean, and I have succeeded in discovering how much betterI might have done."

  "That's a complaint common to all honest men, friend Roger, and as awise man you will be thankful that you have done no worse. Have younot saved this land from herself and from her enemies? Are not yourfoes easily learning to become your friends? And love itself standswithout, only waiting for the opening of the door."

  "Open it, Jean."

  "That I cannot do," answered the dwarf. "You alone can do that, but Ican show you the way."

  "Speak, my wise philosopher."

  "Oh, it's no work for a philosopher. Even a fool finds it easy. Youhave but to learn wisdom out of your own mouth, and remember thatthere are other points of view beside your own, and that a womanusually sees these points better than any one else. Would it surpriseyou to learn that in you pride and self-will somewhat mar an otherwiseexcellent man?"

  "Or come in to make my true character, my real self," said Herrick.

  "Put it so if you will; mine was a gentler way," said Jean. "I wouldsave you from yourself."

  Herrick remained thoughtful for some considerable time, and Jean didnot interrupt his reverie.

  "I have staked out my course, Jean; I must run to the finish of it,"he said, suddenly standing up, and giving the impression that he shookhimself free from his thoughts as a dog shakes the water from him whenhe scrambles upon the bank after his swim.

  "It may be a good course," said the dwarf, rising from hiscross-legged position.

  "And if not?"

  "Disaster perhaps, but whatever comes I shall always love you."

  "Love me, Jean?"

  "Why not? Love's a big word, I know, but it is the right one. Trustcame when I sent my knife skimming across the stone floor to your feetthat night in the South Tower. We've travelled far since then, friendRoger. There has been friendship between us, different though we are,and on your side a little pity perhaps for these twisted limbs ofmine. I have gone a step farther. Yes, love is the right word."

  "I think it is, Jean," said Herrick, putting his hand on the dwarf'sshoulder.

  The next moment Jean had caught Herrick's hand, and kissed it as hefell upon his knee.

  "Sir, I thank you for the greatest honor it is even in your power tobestow."

  "And, Jean, I do not like the fool's motley for you," said Herrick,bending over him. "You shall change it presently."

  "As you will," said the dwarf, rising, "yet it seems to fit this queerbody of mine."

  "And outrages the great heart that it holds. Come. These prisonersmust be judged."

  "For the present I still sport the scarlet and green," said Jean,making his bells jingle. "We are both public characters. The Duke andhis fool. Bother gossips."

  Three days had passed since Herrick returned to Vayenne, and in thistime order had been restored in the city, and the Duke was a popularhero. With the return of the soldiers, definite news of what had takenplace upon the frontier began to be known. The people were proud oftheir Duke, and were ready to cry confusion to all his enemies. FatherBertrand had paid the penalty of his treachery, and they were glad ofit. They fully expected that a like justice would be meted out to bothCount Felix and de Bornais, but they were in no mood to dispute theDuke's will. He could do no wrong.

  There was no uncertain sound in the cheers which greeted Herrick as heentered the hall with the dwarf. A few of the nobles had already cometo the city, and were near the dais. Many officials about the castleand in the city were in the hall, and a strong force of soldiers.Count Felix and de Bornais stood at a little distance from the dais,and near them sat Christine de Liancourt. Only the fact that Lemasleand the guard were with drawn swords showed that they were prisoners.As Herrick seated himself upon the dais, Jean sank cross-legged on thelowest step, his bauble lying across his knees.

  "There has been bloodshed upon the frontier, there has been bloodshedin the city," said Herrick, breaking the silence which had fallen uponthe assembly. "The responsibility rests in varying degree with theprisoners, and with Father Bertrand, who has already been slain by thepeople. I say the responsibility is in varying degree because I havelearned the truth from one Mercier, a tool of Father Bertrand's andhimself a schemer. Montvilliers is
not his native land, however, andtherefore the basest of treachery is not his crime. It was not his owncountry he betrayed, therefore he has his freedom. Nor would we omitthe fact that our presence in Vayenne has fallen hardly upon two ofthe prisoners. We have sought to weigh every circumstance in arrivingat our judgment."

  There was a pause, and not a sound stirred in the hall.

  "Christine de Liancourt."

  As Herrick spoke her name she stood up almost involuntarily, andlooked fixedly at him. Her head was held erect, but the defiance thathad so often been in her bearing was not there to-day. Perhaps it wasRoger Herrick she saw rather than the Duke.

  "Mademoiselle de Liancourt, you have had the opportunity of knowingmost of the circumstances which led to our ascending this throne. Youhave misjudged those actions from the first, and have proclaimedyourself our enemy. You warned us that those who plotted should findan easy tool in you, and they have. You were to marry Count Felix, youwere to reign with him as Duchess, equal to him in power. Yourcountry's good may have been in your mind, but it was a less incentiveperhaps than your hatred to us. But when Father Bertrand schemed withyou he had other ends in view. This Mercier was dispatched to thefrontier, where long since the enemy have been waiting to strike atthis country. A religious fanatic, this priest was sellingMontvilliers to her enemies, and using your marriage, your coronation,to stir up further civil strife, and thus render the project easier ofaccomplishment. This has been his scheming for years. The weaker thepower of the Duke, the less resistance to the enemy."

  Both Christine and Felix had started at the mention of FatherBertrand's schemes.

  "It is evident that you were innocent of all knowledge of such abetrayal," Herrick went on, "but the state must guard against thedanger of such unconsidered actions as yours. Three days hence youwill depart under escort to the Chateau of Passey, there to remainuntil it is our pleasure that you return to Vayenne. Those in Passeyhave our orders to see to your welfare and safe keeping."

  Christine bowed her head, and spoke no word. Retirement to the Chateauof Passey was no great punishment, but there was bitterness in herheart that she had played into the hands of her country's enemies. Inthwarting her this man had saved Montvilliers. Surely he was a worthyDuke, and he was Roger Herrick.

  "Count Felix, to you also the news of this scheming comes as asurprise," said Herrick, "and truly for plotting against us you havemuch excuse. The plot against your cousin was of another kind, andwere you justly heir to this throne, your own subjects have decidedagainst you. You possess an estate in the south of Montvilliers. Tothat estate you are confined. You may win ultimate pardon, but I warnyou that any attempt to escape will mean death."

  The Count did not speak. Neither by look nor gesture did he show thathe had heard what had been said to him.

  "You, de Bornais, have been guilty of a greater crime--treachery toyour country," Herrick went on, and a low murmur like a sullen growlsounded through the hall. "How far religious fervor prompted you, Icannot judge, but this I am sure of, that no religion can serve asexcuse for betrayal of country."

  The growl became articulate.

  "Down with de Bornais! Death to him!"

  "Yet we cannot forget that even in the middle of your plotting youhated the part you felt called upon to play." And Herrick raised hisvoice almost as if he were pleading the prisoner's cause to those whohad shouted for his death. "This also has Mercier told us; and more,we do not forget that the other day before St. Etienne you refused tospeak the word that would have meant almost certain death to us."

  "Long, long live the Duke!" was the enthusiastic cry. "Repentance hadcome to you, and pardon ever runs at the heels of repentance. Yetcannot the crime be forgotten or go unpunished. Within three days youmust cross the frontier and never return. The whole world is free toyou save only this State of Montvilliers."

  "Sir, I am leniently dealt with," de Bornais answered. "My life willbe one long regret."

  It was over. Judgment had been given. The tension was relaxed. It wasthe moment one man had waited for. Herrick had descended two steps ofthe dais, when Count Felix sprang from his guards.

  "Death rather than submission to this adventurer!" he cried, and withone bound had rushed upon Herrick. The dagger he had concealed was inhis hand. The attack was so sudden and unexpected that Herrick slippedupon the steps. The dagger flashed down, but there rose to meet it amass of scarlet and green, a mass that hurled itself upward at theweapon, and there was a jingling sound of bells.

  The next moment Felix was dragged backward and thrown to the floor. Adozen sword points were at his throat, and even at Herrick's quickcommand, were scarcely stayed.

  "Jean!" cried Christine, throwing herself on her knees beside thedwarf.

  "Mademoiselle!" came the answer, and how faint it was. The dagger haddone its work only too well.

  Herrick was kneeling beside him too, and the heads of the man andwoman almost touched over the dwarf. "Love," Jean said faintly. "Itwas the right word, friend Roger." And then he sighed, and lay quitestill.

  "Oh, he's dead," whispered Christine, "and to save you!"

  The crowd were pressing round the dais now. The Duke was alive. Theyhad seen him fall, had feared the worst, and a great wave of reliefcame as they knew the truth. The shout went up and echoed along thecorridors, gladness in it, for the Duke was alive.

  "Thank God! It's only the fool!"