The Duke's Motto: A Melodrama

by Justin H. McCarthy

  XXVIII

  THE SIGNATURE OF AESOP

  By this time the hunchback had opened the door and introduced to thecompany a dapper, affable gentleman who was habited, as became hiscalling, for the most part in black; but he lent an air of smartness tohis notarial garb by reason that the black of his coat and breeches wasof silk, and that he wore a quantity of costly lace. This was MasterGriveau, one of the principal notaries of Paris, and a man that had beenemployed not a little by the Prince de Gonzague. For this reason his facewas familiar to most of those present, and the faces of most of thosepresent were familiar to Master Griveau, and Master Griveau nodded andbowed and smirked and smiled, and showed in a hundred little ways with ahundred little airs and graces that he was quite the man of the world andquite at home in fashionable circles. He was accompanied by two of hisclerks, who seemed as anxious to efface themselves as their master was toassert his personality.

  The hunchback patted the notary on the back with a pat that made him giveat the knees and look somewhat ruefully about him as if an earthquakehad occurred, and introduced him to the company: "Here, sirs, is myCupid--nay, better than Cupid, for Cupid had no pockets, whereas MaitreGriveau has, and my marriage contract in one of them."

  Master Griveau, with the air of one who could take a joke as well as anyman if the joke were proffered in august company, produced a large,folded paper bound about with green ribbon. He bowed profoundly toGonzague. "In accordance," he said, "with monseigneur's instructions, asconveyed to me by monseigneur's"--he halted for a moment, and thencontinued--"Monseigneur's friend, the deed is prepared and ready forsignature. Have I monseigneur's permission to make a few preparations forthe interesting ceremony?"

  Gonzague nodded, and the brisk little man, with the aid of his twoclerks, pushed a table into place, arranged writing materials, and,seating himself with a great air of formality, investigated a quill pen,spread out his contract, and surveyed the company with the air of one whoshould say: "I have done, and done well, all that it becometh me to do;it is now for you to play your part in this ceremony."

  Gonzague addressed the notary: "Have you entered the names of groom andbride?"

  Master Griveau gave a little, protesting cough. "I do not know them, yourhighness. I have left blank spaces for the names."

  Gonzague pointed to Gabrielle, where she sat apart. "The lady isMademoiselle de Lagardere." Then he turned to the hunchback. "And you,what is your lawful name, AEsop?"

  The hunchback made an appeal to Gonzague. "Highness, humor my jest to theend. I have kept my real name a secret long enough; let me keep it secreta little longer. Will you and your friends honor me by signing aswitnesses? Then I will fill in the blanks and set down my own name--aname that will make you laugh."

  Oriol gave a grin. "AEsop is comic enough."

  Lagardere nodded to him. "AEsop is a nickname. My true name will divertyou more. Sign, sirs, sign."

  Master Griveau, with due solemnity, unfolded the contract and spread itbefore him. Then he dipped a pen in the ink, and stood waiting for theillustrious company to sign the contract.

  "Give me the pen," said Gonzague. He was beginning to tire a little ofthe comedy, in spite of its element of marvel, and to wish the girl wellout of his sight with her hunchback husband. He signed his name and heldup the pen. It was eagerly sought for. Taranne gained the privilege oftaking it from the fingers of his master. Taranne signed, Noce signed,Oriol signed, Gironne signed, Choisy signed, Albret signed, Montaubertsigned. When the pen was offered to Chavernay, Chavernay put his handsbehind his back and shook his head. It came to Navailles to sign last.

  "Now for the happy pair," Navailles said. As he spoke he turned to wherethe hunchback and Gabrielle stood together silent, a strangely contrastedbride and bridegroom--youth and age, so it seemed, beauty and ugliness,sin and purity. Truly, it appeared to be what Chavernay thought it andcalled it--a damnable alliance.

  While the signing had been toward the hunchback had spoken softly onesentence to his bride. "Gabrielle," he said, "if I die here, I die as Ihave lived--your lover."

  And Gabrielle had answered him in the heart of her heart: "I love you, mylover."

  Now, when Navailles addressed him, the hunchback moved forward, and wavedaway the little, glittering crowd of gentlemen that gathered about MasterGriveau at the table, ordering them to move. "Make space, sirs, for mywife and me. I need elbow-room for my signature."

  He advanced to the table, holding Gabrielle by the hand, and still,though the humor of the situation had endured so long, even thewine-flushed men and the wine-flushed women seemed almost as conscious asChavernay of the tragedy that underlay the humor of the play. All fellback and left a free table for the hunchback and his bride. MasterGriveau settled himself comfortably in his seat and took up his pen.Turning to the hunchback, he began: "Give me your names, your surnames,your birthplaces--"

  The hunchback interrupted him: "Have you signed?"

  "Certainly," Master Griveau answered, something astonished at being thuscarelessly treated.

  "Then, by your leave," said the hunchback, and dexterously edged theindignant notary out of the chair. "Leave the rest to me. Back, friends,till I finish." Pushing the chair aside, he restrained with a sweep ofhis arm the advancing crowd of gentlemen eager to see the name that AEsopwould acknowledge.

  While Master Griveau, with a very much offended air, edged himself intothe circle of Gonzague's friends as one that had earned the right to movefreely in such company, the hunchback began rapidly to fill in the blankspaces on the parchment before him.

  Master Griveau felt it his duty to say a few words of protest on behalfof the slightly offended majesty of the law. "A very extraordinaryceremony, highness."

  Gonzague smiled ironically, but cared nothing for the offended majesty ofthe law, so long as his own purposes were being served. "AEsop is anextraordinary man," he said.

  The hunchback, who had overheard this conversation, pointed with thefeather of the pen he had just been using to Gonzague. "You are right,prince," he said. Then he gave the pen to Gabrielle and whispered to her,so low that no one heard him: "Sign Gabrielle de Nevers."

  The girl took the pen from his hand and signed boldly, though she signedthat signature for the first time in her young life.

  The hunchback took the pen from her fingers. "Now my turn." Deliberatelyand swiftly he signed his name and flung down the pen. Then he moved backa little way from the table and drew Gabrielle behind him. He turned tothe expectant company. "Come and see, sirs. You will stare, I promiseyou."

  All were eager to press forward and read the signature, but allrestrained their desire until the curiosity of the master of the housewas satisfied. Gonzague advanced leisurely to the table, relieved tothink the comedy had come to an end, and that he had satisfactorily ridhimself of an incubus. He bent carelessly over the parchment, and thensprang back with face as pale and eyes as wild and lips as trembling asif on the pitiful piece of sheepskin he had seen some terror as dread asthe face of Medusa. His twitching mouth whispered one word, but that wordwas "Lagardere!" and that word was repeated on the lips of every man andwoman that watched him.

  Before the eyes of all present a new miracle happened, more marvellousthan its predecessor, for the hunchback suddenly stiffened himself andbecame erect and soldierly; the hunchback swept back the grizzled locksthat had so long served to conceal his features; the hunchback stoodbefore them a strong and stalwart man, with drawn sword in his hand.Stretching out his arm, he extended the sword between Gonzague and theparchment and touched with its point the signature that was still wetupon its surface.

  In a terrible voice he cried: "Lagardere, who always keeps his tryst! Iam here!"

  For a moment that seemed sempiternal a kind of horrible silence reignedover the room. It was hard to understand what had happened. The startledguests stared at one another, terrified by the terror on Gonzague's face,amazed at the metamorphosis of the hunchback, shuddering at the name ofLagardere. The first to recover c
ourage, composure, and resolution wasGonzague himself. He sprang from the table to where his friends stoodtogether and drew his sword.

  Pointing to where Lagardere stood, with Gabrielle clinging to his arm, hecried: "He must not escape! Your swords, friends! It is but one man!"

  But even as he spoke, and while Lagardere was waiting with lifted swordfor the inevitable attack, Chavernay crossed the room and stood atLagardere's side. "We shall be two!" he cried, and drew his sword.

  At the same moment the doors of the antechamber opened, and Cocardasseand Passepoil, with their naked swords in their hands, entered and rangedthemselves on the side of Lagardere.

  "We shall be three!" said Cocardasse.

  "We shall be four!" said Passepoil.

  The situation was changed, but the situation was still perilous. On theone side of the splendid room stood Lagardere, with Chavernay,Cocardasse, and Passepoil, their gleaming weapons ready for attack. Onthe other side, with a great gap of space between the two parties, stoodGonzague and his cluster of light friends, every man of whom had baredhis rapier and was ready to obey the summons of his chief. Behind thesethe women huddled together, some screaming, but the most part toofrightened to scream. Flora, overstrained, had fainted.

  Lagardere taunted Gonzague. "Come, monseigneur," he said, "are youafraid? The odds are not so favorable as they were at Caylus."

  With a writhing face Gonzague screamed to his friends: "Charge!"

  And Lagardere answered with a ringing cry: "I am here!"

  In another moment the two parties would have met and blended in battle;but before Gonzague's followers could obey his command and follow hislead, they were stiffened into immobility by a sudden knocking at thegolden doors. At that unexpected sound every sword was lowered, and thenfrom beyond a stern voice came, commanding: "Open, in the king's name!"

  XXIX

  THE DEAD SPEAKS

  Immediately the golden doors were flung open, and Bonnivet entered fromthe supper-room, followed by a company of soldiers.

  Gonzague turned to Bonnivet, indignant and bewildered. "What does thismean?" he gasped.

  Bonnivet's answer was to salute with his sword, as he announced: "Hismajesty the king!" And through the double line of soldiers Louis ofFrance entered the room with the Princess de Gonzague on his arm.

  The king looked with astonishment at the strange scene before him--thefainting women, the two camps of armed men, the scattered furniture. ThePrincess de Gonzague looked only at the girl, who now hung so lovinglyupon the arm of Lagardere.

  "Why have I been sent for?" the king asked.

  And instantly Lagardere answered him: "To witness my restoration ofMademoiselle Gabrielle de Nevers to her mother." As he spoke he movedtowards the princess, and gave Gabrielle to her out-stretched arms.

  The Princess gave a cry of joy. "She has the face of Louis! She is mychild!"

  Gonzague tried to speak, and failed; tried to speak again, and succeeded:"Your highness, I again declare that I gave the true Gabrielle de Neversto her mother. I have the page torn from the register of the chapel ofCaylus in this sealed packet." As he spoke he held out a small sealedpacket, which he had drawn from his breast.

  The king turned to Lagardere. "What do you say to this?"

  Lagardere answered: "That I have kept my word. I have given back herdaughter to the princess. I will now unmask the murderer."

  Again the king questioned him: "Where are your witnesses?"

  Lagardere turned and pointed with his drawn sword to Gonzague: "You arethe first."

  Gonzague, trying hard to recover his composure, raged at him: "Madman!"

  Lagardere turned to the king and spoke more solemnly: "The second is inthe grave."

  Gonzague laughed. "The dead cannot speak."

  Lagardere still looked menacingly at Gonzague. "To-night the dead willspeak. The proofs of your guilt are in that sealed packet, stolen from meby assassins in your pay."

  Gonzague turned to the king, protesting: "Sire!"

  Lagardere interrupted him: "Monseigneur, he is going to say that thatpacket contains only the birth-lines of Mademoiselle de Nevers--butthere is more than that."

  Louis of Orleans turned his steady gaze on Louis of Gonzague, and readlittle to comfort him in the twitching face of his life-long friend."Break the seals, Louis," he commanded.

  Lagardere spoke, exultingly: "Yes, break the seals and read your doom,assassin. The packet contains only the birth-lines of Mademoiselle deNevers, but still it contains the proof I ask. As Nevers lay dying in myarms, he dipped his finger in his blood and traced on the parchment thename of his murderer. Open the packet and see what name is there."

  Now, while he was speaking, Gonzague began to tremble like a man that hasthe trembling sickness; but as Lagardere continued he seemed by adesperate effort to stiffen himself, and, moving slowly, unobserved bythose present, who were for the most part busy with looking uponLagardere, he neared a candelabrum. As Lagardere uttered his lastcommand, Gonzague thrust the packet that he held into the flame of thecandle, and in a moment the flame ran along the paper, lapping it andconsuming it. The king and Lagardere both saw the despairing deed.

  The king was the first to speak. "Louis!" he cried, and could say nomore.

  Gonzague dropped the burning paper from his fingers, and it fell in ashesupon the floor.

  Lagardere lifted his sword in triumph. "The dead speaks! There wasnothing written on that paper. His name was not there, but his own deedhas set it there."

  The eyes of all were fixed upon the face of Gonzague, and the face ofGonzague was an ugly sight to see. Hatred and despair struggled there formastery--hatred and despair, and the hideous sense of hopeless,ignominious, public failure after a lifetime of triumphant crime.

  "Louis!" cried the king again. "Louis! Assassin!"

  In a moment Gonzague's sword was unsheathed, and he leaped across thespace that divided him from Lagardere, striking furiously for Lagardere'sheart. But Lagardere was ready for him, and, with a familiar trick of thefencing-schools, wrenched Gonzague's weapon from his fingers and flung itto the floor. A dozen hands seized Gonzague--the hands of those that oncehad been proud to call themselves his friends.

  Lagardere turned to the king, appealingly: "Monseigneur, I cry a favor.Let me support this quarrel with my sword, and God defend the right."

  The king was silent for a few seconds, trying to set himself right with aworld that had suddenly changed for him. Surely, it would be better tolet it end so, whatever came of it. He turned to Lagardere, and bowed hishead in silent approval: "As you will."

  Suddenly, then, the Princess de Gonzague, clinging to the child in herarms, cried out, calling to Chavernay: "Monsieur de Chavernay, in yonderalcove lies the sword of my dead husband. Fetch it, and give it toMonsieur de Lagardere."

  In a frightful silence Chavernay crossed the room, entered the alcove,and came forth holding the sword of Louis de Nevers in his hand--thesword that Louis de Nevers had used so valiantly on the night of Caylus.Silently he offered it to Lagardere, and silently Lagardere, giving theweapon he held to Cocardasse, took the sword of Nevers from the hands ofChavernay. Thereafter Lagardere stooped and picked up the fallen sword ofGonzague. Then, advancing towards his enemy, he made a sign to those thatheld him to release their captive--a sign that was immediately obeyed. Heheld out the weapon by its blade to Gonzague, who caught it. In anothermoment the two men were engaged in combat.

  On the walls the impassive portraits of the Three Louis looked on whileone of the Three Louis fought for his shameful life, while another of theThree Louis sat in heart-broken judgment upon him, and while the widow ofanother of the Three Louis sat clasping in her arms the child she hadsurrendered in the moat of Caylus so many years ago.

  Gonzague was a fine swordsman, and Gonzague fought for his life, but hedid not fight long. Suddenly Lagardere's arm and Lagardere's sword seemedto extend, the blade gleamed in the flare of the flambeaux, and Gonzaguereeled and dropped.

  "Nine," sai
d Cocardasse, thoughtfully.

  Passepoil placed his forefinger between his brows. "The thrust ofNevers," he murmured.

  Lagardere lifted his blood-dyed sword and saluted the picture of Louis ofNevers. "After the lackeys the master. Nevers, I have kept my word."

  Then he let fall his weapon, for the soft arms of Gabrielle were abouthis neck.

  THE END