The Duke's Motto: A Melodrama

by Justin H. McCarthy

  III

  A BUYER OF BLADES

  Staupitz and his companions seemed to place implicit confidence in thesuperior diplomatic powers of their Gascon comrade, and to have beenseriously impressed by the gravity of his statement concerning the thrustof Nevers, so death-dealing, so unwardable, so almost magically fatal,for they readily agreed to his proposition. Places were rapidly found forCocardasse and Passepoil at the table. AEsop returned to his seat and hislittle sinful book. It was deepening dusk by now, but the hunchback knewhis Aretino by heart, and the open page was a pretence. So he mused bythe window, and sat nursing his knee moodily. Those at the table seemedbusy drinking, and heedless of all things save drink, when the side-doorof the room, that led through the kitchen to the yard, opened, and theman they were expecting entered. It was characteristic of the man to makehis appearance so slyly, surreptitiously, sidling, and roundabout, whereanother would have stepped in direct. At the heels of the new-comertiptoed Martine, swinging, for precaution against the thickening dusk, adingy lantern whose provision of fish-oil emitted a pitiful light thatscarcely bettered the growing blackness. This lantern the girl set uponthe head of an empty barrel that stood in a corner, and its fitful,shivering rays, faintly illuminating the murkiness around, was at leaststrong enough to allow any philosopher among the bravos--and AEsop was inhis way a philosopher--to observe and moralize upon the contrast betweenthe appearance of this Monsieur Peyrolles who employed bravos and thebravos that this Monsieur Peyrolles employed.

  Monsieur Peyrolles was a tall, thin, middle-aged man of pale complexion.Like AEsop and like Passepoil, he was dressed in black, as became theconfidential servant of a master with many confidences; but, unlike theamorous AEsop and unlike the amorous Passepoil--though the two men wereamorous after a very different fashion--his garments were of fine qualityand fine cut, with much costly lace at his yellow neck, and much costlylace about the wrists of yellow hands that to a casual glance might, intheir affected ease, have passed for patrician. Like Passepoil, hecarried a sword, and, like Passepoil, he knew how to use it, although,unlike Passepoil, he was really of a timid disposition, and never engagedin any encounter in which he was not certain that his skill was farsuperior to that of his opponent.

  He affected the manners of a fine gentleman, and modelled himself as muchas he dared upon the carriage of his master, when his master was not by,and, like the most of such copying apes, he overdid the part. His facewas curiously unpleasant, long and yellowish white and inexpressive, withdrooping eyelids masking pale, shifty eyes, with a drooping, ungainlynose, and a mouth that seemed like a mistake of nature.

  When Martine had placed her lantern to her satisfaction upon its Bacchicpedestal, she slipped from the room as quietly as she had entered it,answering as she went, with a glance of disdain, the passion ofadmiration that glowed in the eyes and twitched in the fingers of NormanPassepoil. The people that kept that evil Inn, the people that servedthat evil Inn, always left their sinister customers to themselves to kissor kill, as best pleased them.

  On the entrance of Monsieur Peyrolles the bravos rose and saluted himceremoniously. If there was any hidden mockery, any latent contempt, anyunconscious hate felt by the brave scoundrels for the cowardly scoundrelin their reverence, it was not evident to the new-comer, who took thegreetings with offensive condescension, eying the bandits over the laceedges of his kerchief.

  Staupitz advanced some few feet to greet him. "Welcome, MonsieurPeyrolles," he said. Then, pointing with an air of introduction to thefantastic, many-colored, huge-hatted, big-booted gang of ruffians rangedabout the table, he added, "My children."

  In the dim light Peyrolles peered derisively at the different members ofthe party. "They seem a choice set of ruffians," he observed, with thelabored impertinence that seemed to him a copy of his master'snonchalance.

  Staupitz laughed thickly. "No better blades between here and world'send." He pointed first at his comrades, as if to imply that he spokeallegorically; then he pointed to the row of rapiers dangling against thewall, to prove that he also spoke practically and by the card.

  "After all," said Peyrolles, "that is the important matter. I come totell you how to earn your pay."

  By this time Staupitz and the others had resumed their seats and werestaring fixedly at Peyrolles, something to that worthy personage'sembarrassment. Staupitz having said his say, dropped into silence, andCocardasse leaned forward, asserting himself. "We are all attention," hedeclared; and Passepoil, faithful echo by his side, murmured, "We are allattention," and allowed himself to wonder what had become of Martine, andto regret that business did not permit him to go to look for her.

  Peyrolles began to explain. "Wait in the moat to-night at ten o'clock."

  Staupitz interrupted him. "Ten o'clock?" he cried. "The devil! it will bepretty dark by ten."

  "I think there should be a moon about ten," AEsop observed, quietly, withhis exasperating air of all knowledge.

  "Yes, yes," Peyrolles went on, sharply, irritated at being stayed in hisinstructions, "there will be a moon, no doubt, but we do not want toomuch light for this business. Well, then, wait in the moat at ten. I donot think you will have to wait long. Then, or thenabouts, a cavaliercoming by the mountain road will tie his horse to a tree beyond thebridge that spans the ravine. He will cross the bridge and walk to yonderwindow hard by the postern."

  Peyrolles paused as if he had nothing more to say, and took it forgranted that his hearers understood his drift. But one of them seemed todesire more explicit information.

  "Then," said Cocardasse--"then we are to accost him."

  Peyrolles nodded. "Very politely--and earn your money." He turned uponhis heel now, for he relished the Inn room little, and its company less,being a fastidious lackey, and made to go, as if the affair weresettled.

  But Cocardasse arrested him. "Who is the gentleman we accost politely?"he asked, very blandly, but behind this blandness of Cocardasse's therewas something menacing to those that knew him well.

  Peyrolles eyed the huge Gascon disdainfully. "That does not concern you,"he said, sharply.

  But the Gascon was not in the least abashed, and, while he grinned at thewould-be great man with an air of veiled insolence that was excessivelyexasperating to Monsieur Peyrolles, he questioned again: "Who is ouremployer?"

  Again Peyrolles retorted: "That does not concern you."

  And again Cocardasse persisted: "It might concern us very much if wechanced to believe that our quarry is Louis de Nevers, and if we got itsomehow or other into our heads that our employer is Louis de Gonzague."

  As Cocardasse spoke these words, Peyrolles, now thoroughly alarmed andirritated, gave Cocardasse a glance that ought to have withered him, butCocardasse was not withered, and smiled banteringly at his employer.

  "Fellow," Peyrolles said, "you are inquisitive." As he spoke he flappedhis kerchief reprovingly at the bravo, whose dilated nostrils greedilydrank the delicate odors it discharged, and he again made as if todepart, and again Cocardasse delayed him, still with the sameexasperating show of exuberant politeness.

  "When it is a matter of our skins," he said, "I think we have a right tobe inquisitive, and I think we had better have a little chat, MonsieurPeyrolles."

  As he spoke he made a noble flourish of his right arm that was distinctlyan invitation to Peyrolles to seat himself in their company, andPassepoil, rising with an air of great urbanity, placed a stool beforePeyrolles.

  "Pray be seated," he urged, suavely, blinking his pink eyelids andmanifesting a deferential fear of the great man that he was very farindeed from feeling.

  Peyrolles looked about him half angrily, half frightened. He would havebeen glad to make his escape from that accursed chamber, but he hadastuteness enough to see that there was no escape for him. Cocardasse hadsomehow or other managed to get between him and the door, and the otherruffians seemed to be entirely in sympathy with the Gascon's conduct, andto have no regard whatever for Peyrolles's dignity or feelings.

 
; With a smile that he intended to be amiable, Peyrolles sat down.

  "Well," he said, with an air of one that swallows sour wine, "what haveyou to say to me?"

  "Come," said the Gascon, "that is good. Now we can chat at our ease, andit will not take us many seconds to understand each other, I promiseyou." He turned to Staupitz. "What was the sum offered for our services?"He knew very well, for Staupitz had told him as they huddled togetherbefore, while the hand of Peyrolles was upon the latch, but he thoughtthat it made the situation more impressive if he affected ignorance.

  Staupitz answered: "Three hundred pistoles."

  Now this was a fair market price enough as the tariff went for ambuscadesand assassinations of the kind. It meant twenty-five pistoles each to theeight subordinates of the band, and a comfortable hundred pistoles forold Papa Staupitz to pocket as the patron of the enterprise. ButCocardasse held up his hands in well-affected horror and amazement."Three hundred pistoles!" he echoed; "for ruddling the blades andrisking the lives of nine of the finest swordsmen in Europe?Preposterous!--there must be some mistake! We won't haggle. We must havethree thousand pistoles or--good-bye."

  At this audacious proposal to raise their blood-wages exactly ten times,the eyes of the bravos glittered avariciously, and they drummed approvalon the table with their fists. Cocardasse deprecated this display ofinterest with a gentle wave of the hand, and, leaning back in his chair,eyed Peyrolles coolly, sure that he plied him with a vise. And Cocardassewas right.

  Peyrolles hesitated, but also Peyrolles reflected. It had been his wishto buy his bandits as cheaply as he could, but it was evident that theywere better informed about the night's business than he intended them tobe. It was essential that the work must be done that night, and it wasalso evident that the gentlemen of the sword were quite prepared to taketheir leaves if their terms were not agreed to. He sighed and said, "Youshall have the money."

  Cocardasse nodded approvingly. He was enjoying himself immensely in thisbaiting of the valet of Gonzague, but he allowed no sign of entertainmentto ripple over his crimson countenance.

  "Good," he said, quietly, "but I take it that you have not got such a sumas three thousand pistoles about you."

  Peyrolles shook his head. "I have brought with me the three hundredpistoles that were agreed upon," he said, sourly, with an emphasis uponthe closing words of his speech. Cocardasse caught him up promptly.

  "Agreed upon in ignorance of the services demanded," he corrected. "Well,good Monsieur Peyrolles, let us have that three hundred pistoles asearnest money for the larger sum."

  Somewhat reluctantly Monsieur Peyrolles produced from his doublet a smallcanvas bag and threw it into the hollow of Cocardasse's extended palm. Itchinked pleasantly as it fell, and Cocardasse weighed it tenderly.

  "I will not affront your worthiness," he said, "by affecting to doubt thecontents of this little bag, and putting it to the scrutiny of a count. Iwill take your word for the tale."

  As he spoke he tossed the bag over to Staupitz, who caught it dexterouslyand put it in his pocket. On this Peyrolles made to rise, and again foundthat the hand of Passepoil, obedient to a glance from Cocardasse,descended upon his shoulder and nailed him to his place.

  "Wait," said Cocardasse, amiably, "we must have some surety for the laveof the money."

  "Is not my word enough?" Peyrolles asked, with an ineffective air ofdignity. Cocardasse smiled very sweetly.

  "The best of us may have a bad memory," he said, and sighed over thefrailties of humanity. He turned to his nominal leader. "Papa Staupitz,"he said, "will you not see if a pen and ink be available?"

  Staupitz rose while Peyrolles glowered, and going to the door that led tothe kitchen, summoned Martine. Martine, heedless of the adoring homagerenewed in Passepoil's eyes, went to a cupboard in the wall and extractedfrom its depths a dingy ink-horn and a stubby quill, together with a pageof fairly clean paper torn from the back of an old account-book. Settingthese on the table, she departed as quietly as she came, whollyindifferent to the languishing glances of the Norman. Cocardasse waved aspace for Peyrolles at the table.

  "Be so good," he said, with a quiet insistence, "as to write a formalpromise to pay Papa Staupitz two thousand seven hundred pistolesto-morrow. Date it carefully, and sign it with your excellent andhonorable name, my dear Monsieur Peyrolles."

  Peyrolles frowned, but there was no help for it; so he rose to his feet,untroubled this time by the restraining fingers of Passepoil, and, goingto the table, wrote the demanded document, with every appearance ofrepugnance at the task and its conditions, for the pen was vile, the inkviler, and the paper vilest. When he had finished, Cocardasse took itfrom him and scanned it carefully.

  "That is all right," he said, and placed the still wet writing on thetable in front of Staupitz. Peyrolles made as if to move towards thedoor, but again Passepoil, who was watching intently the face ofCocardasse, read a meaning there, and, pouncing upon Peyrolles,persuaded him firmly back into the seat he had quitted.

  "That is not all," said Cocardasse to the astonished and angry valet."This night's work is a big night's work, and not to be paid for over thecounter and done with. We want the money first, but afterwards we wantthe protection and favor of Louis de Gonzague."

  Peyrolles frowned and made a vehement effort to assert his authority.

  "You talk very freely and loosely of great names," he said, with as muchsharpness as he could muster in the presence of that ring of rascality."You should know very well, if you know anything at all about thescandals of grandees, that Monseigneur the Marquis of Caylus has everyreason to dislike Monseigneur the Duke of Nevers, and to wish him out ofthe way."

  Cocardasse laid a whimsical finger to the side of his jolly, tropicalnose and grinned impishly.

  "We know what we know, Monsieur Peyrolles," he said, urbanely. "If itwere merely necessary to kill the Duke of Nevers to gratify the hate ofany private enemy, one place would do as well as another, and we mighttake him any time on his way here, instead of waiting till the precisemoment when he enters the moat of Caylus. But you wish us to wait forthat precise moment because you, and your master, wish it to seem patentto all the world that the deed was done by the Marquis of Caylus on hisown ground, to defend his own honor. Once again, we demand hereafter thefavor and protection of his highness the Prince of Gonzague."

  This time Peyrolles needed no pause for reflection. So much was wise topromise to men who could draw conclusions so dexterously. "You shall haveit," he said, and rose from his seat, this time unrestrained by theNorman's pressure. "There is my hand on it," he added.

  Cocardasse appeared not to perceive the extended hand as he slapped thehilt of his sword. "Here is my rapier, which answers for me."

  Peyrolles smiled sourly. "You had better place a sentinel in the moat,"he said, addressing Staupitz. "He can give the signal when the mousewalks into the trap. Till then let the others keep in the background soas to cut off our gentleman's retreat."

  Staupitz nodded sulkily. He had always held Monsieur Peyrolles inconsiderable respect, a respect that had been greatly shaken byCocardasse's audacious and insolent treatment of the satellite ofGonzague. Now the bravo seemed ready to resent receiving an order fromhis employer's go-between. Peyrolles prudently took no notice of hissullenness. "Good-evening, gentlemen," he said, and walked towards thedoor. As he reached it, he turned again and spoke significantly:"Remember--if you fail, no pay."

  Cocardasse grinned impudently at him. "Sleep in peace, MonsieurPeyrolles." Peyrolles made a wry face and went out.

  As soon as he had gone the bravos gathered about Cocardasse and pattedhim enthusiastically on the back. Only AEsop remained in his corner,apparently indifferent to the whole proceedings.

  "Well done, comrade," cried Passepoil, wringing the hand of hisbrother-in-arms; and the others, whose pay had been so notably increasedby the diplomacy of Cocardasse, were equally as effusive in theirexpressions of gratitude.

  Cocardasse met their applause with an impressi
ve monosyllable. "Wine," hesaid to Martine, who had peeped in to see if her services were needed,and in a twinkling the pannikins were filled again and lifted to eightthirsty mouths, and set down again empty of their contents. The firstbusiness was to share the contents of Monsieur Peyrolles's bag, whichStaupitz duly divided according to the original understanding, givingeach man twenty-five pistoles, and keeping the remainder for himself. Bythis time the ink on the promissory note was dry, and Staupitz folded itup carefully and put it in his pocket.

  After this for another half-hour the talk was all about the young Duke deNevers and his secret thrust, and the woman he loved, and the Prince deGonzague, his friend, who meant to kill him. Here, as before, AEsopdominated the party by his superior knowledge of all the individuals inthe little tragedy in which they were invited to play subordinate parts.He told them of the life feud between the family of Caylus and the familyof Nevers, a feud as bitter as that of the Capulets and Montagues of oldtime. He told them of Gonzague's passions, Gonzague's poverty. He toldthem all about Monsieur Peyrolles, Gonzague's discreet and infamousfactotum. He told them, also, being as it seemed a very gold-mine ofcourt scandals, much of the third Louis, the august friend of Louis ofNevers and Louis of Gonzague, the third Louis who was the king ofFrance.

  The bravos hung upon his words. In many ways they were simple folk, and,like all simple folk, they loved to be told stories, and AEsop pridedhimself upon being something of a man of letters, a philosopher, and anhistorian. It was, therefore, no small annoyance to narrator and audiencewhen the narrative was interrupted, as it was nearing its conclusion, bythe opening of the Inn door. Every face expressed astonishment as it waspushed sufficiently apart to admit the entry of a slender and gracefulboy in the rich habit of a page. The boy came a little way into the room,looking cautiously about him. He acted as if at first he took the room inits dimness to be unoccupied, and he seemed to be somewhat disconcertedat discovering that it contained so many occupants. He stood still whilehis bright eyes ran rapidly, and indeed fearfully, over the somewhatalarming features of the guests. Failing, apparently, to find among themthe person, whoever it was, whom he had come there to seek, he turned toleave as quietly as he had entered, but his egress was barred by AEsop,who had slipped between him and the door, and who now questioned him,with a grin of malignant intelligence on his face.

  "Whom are you looking for, pygmy?"

  The page put a bold face on it and answered with a bold voice: "I have aletter for a gentleman."

  AEsop pointed to the group at the table. "We are all gentlemen. Let's havea look at your letter." Then he added to his companions: "It may beuseful. The imp wears the livery of Nevers."

  Instantly the others approved by signs and grunts of AEsop's action, andthe page, now really alarmed, made a desperate effort to escape. "Let mepass!" he cried, and tried to rush under AEsop's arm. But AEsop caught theboy in an iron grip, and, though the courageous page drew a dagger andtried to stab his assailant, he was disarmed in a second and seized bythe others, who sprang from the table and clustered about him, fiercebirds of prey about a helpless quarry. The lad cried for help, hopelesslyenough. Strong, dirty fingers were tearing open his jerkin and fumblingfor the concealed letter, when suddenly it seemed to the astonishedswordsmen that an earthquake and a whirlwind had combined for theirundoing. AEsop rolled to one end of the room, Staupitz to another;Cocardasse and Passepoil, Saldagno, Pepe, Pinto, Faenza, and Joel werescattered like sparrows, and the little page found himself liberated andcrouching at the feet of a man who was standing with folded armssurveying the discomfited bravos mockingly.