Bardelys the Magnificent

by Rafael Sabatini

  CHAPTER XI. THE KING'S COMMISSIONER

  For that most amiable of Gascon cadets, Monsieur de Castelroux, I havenaught but the highest praise. In his every dealing with me he revealedhimself so very gallant, generous, and high-minded a gentleman that itwas little short of a pleasure to be his prisoner. He made no inquiriestouching the nature of my interview with those two gentlemen at theHotel de la Couronne, and when at the moment of leaving I requested himto deliver a packet to the taller of those same two he did so withoutcomment or question. That packet contained the portrait of Mademoisellede Marsac, but on the inner wrapper was a note requesting Lesperon notto open it until he should be in Spain.

  Neither Marsac nor Lesperon did I see again before we resumed ourjourney to Toulouse.

  At the moment of setting out a curious incident occurred. Castelroux'scompany of dragoons had ridden into the courtyard as we were mounting.They lined up under their lieutenant's command, to allow us to pass;but as we reached the porte-cochere we were delayed for a moment by atravelling-carriage, entering for relays, and coming, apparently, fromToulouse. Castelroux and I backed our horses until we were in the midstof the dragoons, and so we stood while the vehicle passed in. As itwent by, one of the leather curtains was drawn back, and my heart wasquickened by the sight of a pale girl face, with eyes of blue, and browncurls lying upon the slender neck. Her glance lighted on me, swordlessand in the midst of that company of troopers, and I bowed low upon thewithers of my horse, doffing my hat in distant salutation.

  The curtain dropped again, and eclipsed the face of the woman that hadbetrayed me. With my mind full of wild surmisings as to what emotionsmight have awakened in her upon beholding me, I rode away in silenceat Monsieur de Castelroux's side. Had she experienced any remorse? Anyshame? Whether or not such feelings had been aroused at sight of me, itcertainly would not be long ere she experienced them, for at the Hotelde la Couronne were those who would enlighten her.

  The contemplation of the remorseful grief that might anon beset her whenshe came to ponder the truth of matters, and, with that truth, thosethings that at Lavedan I had uttered, filled me presently with regretand pity. I grew impatient to reach Toulouse and tell the judges of themistake that there had been. My name could not be unknown to them, andthe very mention of it, I thought, should suffice to give them pause andlead them to make inquiries before sending me to the scaffold. Yet I wasnot without uneasiness, for the summariness with which Castelroux hadinformed me they were in the habit of dealing with those accused of hightreason occasioned me some apprehensive pangs.

  This apprehension led me to converse with my captor touching thosetrials, seeking to gather from him who were the judges. I learnt thenthat besides the ordinary Tribunal, a Commissioner had been dispatchedby His Majesty, and was hourly expected to arrive at Toulouse. It wouldbe his mission to supervise and direct the inquiries that were takingplace. It was said, he added, that the King himself was on his waythither, to be present at the trial of Monsieur le Duc de Montmorency.But he was travelling by easy stages, and was not yet expected for somedays. My heart, which had leapt at the news, as suddenly sank againwith the consideration that I should probably be disposed of before theKing's arrival. It would behoove me, therefore, to look elsewhere forhelp and for some one to swear to my identity.

  "Do you know the name of this King's Commissioner?" I asked.

  "It is a certain Comte de Chatellerault, a gentleman man said to standvery high in His Majesty's favour."

  "Chatellerault!" I cried in wondering joy.

  "You know him?"

  "Most excellently!" I laughed. "We are very intimately acquainted."

  "Why, then, monsieur, I augur you this gentleman's friendship, and thatit may pilot you through your trouble. Although--" Being mercifullyminded, he stopped short.

  But I laughed easily. "Indeed, my dear Captain, I think it will,"said I; "although friendship in this world is a thing of which theunfortunate know little."

  But I rejoiced too soon, as you shall hear.

  We rode diligently on, our way lying along the fertile banks of theGaronne, now yellow with the rustling corn. Towards evening we made ourlast halt at Fenouillet, whence a couple of hours' riding should bringus to Toulouse.

  At the post-house we overtook a carriage that seemingly had halted forrelays, but upon which I scarce bestowed a glance as I alighted.

  Whilst Castelroux went to arrange for fresh horses, I strode into thecommon room, and there for some moments I stood discussing the viandswith our host. When at last I had resolved that a cold pasty and abottle of Armagnac would satisfy our wants, I looked about me to takesurvey of those in the room. One group in a remote corner suddenlyriveted my attention to such a degree that I remained deaf to the voiceof Castelroux, who had just entered, and who stood now beside me. Inthe centre of this group was the Comte de Chatellerault himself, athick-set, sombre figure, dressed with that funereal magnificence heaffected.

  But it was not the sight of him that filled me with amazement. For that,Castelroux's information had prepared me, and I well understood in whatcapacity he was there. My surprise sprang rather from the factthat amongst the half-dozen gentlemen about him--and evidently inattendance--I beheld the Chevalier de Saint-Eustache. Now, knowing as Idid, the Chevalier's treasonable leanings, there was ample cause for myastonishment at finding him in such company. Apparently, too, he wason very intimate terms with the Count, for in raising my glance Ihad caught him in the act of leaning over to whisper familiarly inChatellerault's ear.

  Their eyes--indeed, for that matter the eyes of the entire company--wereturned in my direction.

  Perhaps it was not a surprising thing that Chatellerault should gazeupon me in that curious fashion, for was it not probable that he hadheard that I was dead? Besides, the fact that I was without a sword, andthat at my side stood a King's officer, afforded evidence enough ofmy condition, and well might Chatellerault stare at beholding me somanifestly a prisoner.

  Even as I watched him, he appeared to start at something thatSaint-Eustache was saying, and a curious change spread over his face.Its whilom expression had been rather one of dismay; for, havingbelieved me dead, he no doubt accounted his wager won, whereas seeing mealive had destroyed that pleasant conviction. But now it took on a lookof relief and of something that suggested malicious cunning.

  "That," said Castelroux in my ear, "is the King's commissioner."

  Did I not know it? I never waited to answer him, but, striding acrossthe room, I held out my hand over the table--to Chatellerault.

  "My dear Comte," I cried, "you are most choicely met."

  I would have added more, but there was something in his attitude thatsilenced me. He had turned half from me, and stood now, hand on hip, hisgreat head thrown back and tilted towards his shoulder, his expressionone of freezing and disdainful wonder.

  Now, if his attitude filled me with astonishment and apprehension,consider how these feelings were heightened by his words.

  "Monsieur de Lesperon, I can but express amazement at your effrontery.If we have been acquainted in the past, do you think that is asufficient reason for me to take your hand now that you have placedyourself in a position which renders it impossible for His Majesty'sloyal servants to know you?"

  I fell back a pace, my mind scarce grasping yet the depths of thisinexplicable attitude.

  "This to me, Chatellerault?" I gasped.

  "To you?" he blazed, stirred to a sudden passion. "What else did youexpect, Monsieur de Lesperon?"

  I had it in me to give him the lie, to denounce him then for a low,swindling trickster. I understood all at once the meaning of thiswondrous make-believe. From Saint-Eustache he had gathered the mistakethere was, and for his wager's sake he would let the error prevail, andhurry me to the scaffold. What else might I have expected from the manthat had lured me into such a wager--a wager which the knowledge hepossessed had made him certain of winning? Would he who had cheated atthe dealing of the cards neglect an opportunity to cheat
again duringthe progress of the game?

  As I have said, I had it in my mind to cry out that he lied--that I wasnot Lesperon; that he knew I was Bardelys. But the futility of such anoutcry came to me simultaneously with the thought of it. And, I fearme, I stood before him and his satellites--the mocking Saint-Eustacheamongst them--a very foolish figure.

  "There is no more to be said," I murmured at last.

  "But there is!" he retorted. "There is much more to be said. You shallrender yet an account of your treason, and I am afraid, my poor rebel,that your comely head will part company with your shapely body. You andI will meet at Toulouse. What more is to be said will be said in theTribunal there."

  A chill encompassed me. I was doomed, it seemed. This man, ruling theprovince pending the King's arrival, would see to it that none cameforward to recognize me. He would expedite the comedy of my trial, andclose it with the tragedy of my execution. My professions of a mistakeof identity--if I wasted breath upon them would be treated with disdainand disregarded utterly. God! What a position had I got myself into, andwhat a vein of comedy ran through it--grim, tragic comedy, if you will,yet comedy to all faith. The very woman whom I had wagered to wed hadbetrayed me into the hands of the very man with whom I laid my wager.

  But there was more in it than that. As I had told Mironsac that night inParis, when the thing had been initiated, it was a duel that was beingfought betwixt Chatellerault and me--a duel for supremacy in the King'sgood graces. We were rivals, and he desired my removal from the Court.To this end had he lured me into a bargain that should result in myfinancial ruin, thereby compelling me to withdraw from the costly lifeof the Luxembourg, and leaving him supreme, the sole and uncontestedrecipient of our master's favour. Now into his hand Fate had thrust astouter weapon and a deadlier: a weapon which not only should make himmaster of the wealth that I had pledged, but one whereby he mightremove me for all time, a thousandfold more effectively than the mereencompassing of my ruin would have done.

  I was doomed. I realized it fully and very bitterly.

  I was to go out of the ways of men unnoticed and unmourned; as a rebel,under the obscure name of another and bearing another's sins upon myshoulders, I was to pass almost unheeded to the gallows. Bardelys theMagnificent--the Marquis Marcel Saint-Pol de Bardelys, whose splendourhad been a byword in France--was to go out like a guttering candle.

  The thought filled me with the awful frenzy that so often goes withimpotency, such a frenzy as the damned in hell may know. I forgot inthat hour my precept that under no conditions should a gentleman giveway to anger. In a blind access of fury I flung myself across the tableand caught that villainous cheat by the throat, before any there couldput out a hand to stop me.

  He was a heavy man, if a short one, and the strength of his thick-setframe was a thing abnormal. Yet at that moment such nervous power didI gather from my rage, that I swung him from his feet as though he hadbeen the puniest weakling. I dragged him down on to the table, and thereI ground his face with a most excellent good-will and relish.

  "You liar, you cheat, you thief!" I snarled like any cross-grainedmongrel. "The King shall hear of this, you knave! By God, he shall!"

  They dragged me from him at last--those lapdogs that attended him--andwith much rough handling they sent me sprawling among the sawdust onthe floor. It is more than likely that but for Castelroux's interventionthey had made short work of me there and then.

  But with a bunch of Mordieus, Sangdieus, and Po' Cap de Dieus, thelittle Gascon flung himself before my prostrate figure, and bade them inthe King's name, and at their peril, to stand back.

  Chatellerault, sorely shaken, his face purple, and with blood streamingfrom his nostrils, had sunk into a chair. He rose now, and his firstwords were incoherent, raging gasps.

  "What is your name, sir?" he bellowed at last, addressing the Captain.

  "Amedee de Mironsac de Castelroux, of Chateau Rouge in Gascony,"answered my captor, with a grand manner and a flourish, and added, "Yourservant."

  "What authority have you to allow your prisoners this degree offreedom?"

  "I do not need authority, monsieur," replied the Gascon.

  "Do you not?" blazed the Count. "We shall see. Wait until I am inToulouse, my malapert friend."

  Castelroux drew himself up, straight as a rapier, his face slightlyflushed and his glance angry, yet he had the presence of mind torestrain himself, partly at least.

  "I have my orders from the Keeper of the Seals, to effect theapprehension of Monsieur de Lesperon; and to deliver him up, alive ordead, at Toulouse. So that I do this, the manner of it is my own affair,and who presumes to criticize my methods censoriously impugns my honourand affronts me. And who affronts me, monsieur, be he whosoever he maybe, renders me satisfaction. I beg that you will bear that circumstancein mind."

  His moustaches bristled as he spoke, and altogether his air was veryfierce and truculent. For a moment I trembled for him. But the Countevidently thought better of it than to provoke a quarrel, particularlyone in which he would be manifestly in the wrong, King's Commissionerthough he might be. There was an exchange of questionable complimentsbetwixt the officer and the Count, whereafter, to avoid furtherunpleasantness, Castelroux conducted me to a private room, where we tookour meal in gloomy silence.

  It was not until an hour later, when we were again in the saddleand upon the last stage of our journey, that I offered Castelroux anexplanation of my seemingly mad attack upon Chatellerault.

  "You have done a very rash and unwise thing, monsieur," he had commentedregretfully, and it was in answer to this that I poured out the wholestory. I had determined upon this course while we were supping, forCastelroux was now my only hope, and as we rode beneath the stars ofthat September night I made known to him my true identity.

  I told him that Chatellerault knew me, and I informed him that a wagerlay between us--withholding the particulars of its nature--which hadbrought me into Languedoc and into the position wherein he had found andarrested me. At first he hesitated to believe me, but when at last Ihad convinced him by the vehemence of my assurances as much as bythe assurances themselves, he expressed such opinions of the Comte deChatellerault as made my heart go out to him.

  "You see, my dear Castelroux, that you are now my last hope," I said.

  "A forlorn one, my poor gentleman!" he groaned.

  "Nay, that need not be. My intendant Rodenard and some twenty of myservants should be somewhere betwixt this and Paris. Let them be soughtfor monsieur, and let us pray God that they be still in Languedoc andmay be found in time."

  "It shall be done, monsieur, I promise you," he answered me solemnly."But I implore you not to hope too much from it. Chatellerault has it inhis power to act promptly, and you may depend that he will waste no timeafter what has passed."

  "Still, we may have two or three days, and in those days you must dowhat you can, my friend."

  "You may depend upon me," he promised.

  "And meanwhile, Castelroux," said I, "you will say no word of this toany one."

  That assurance also he gave me, and presently the lights of ourdestination gleamed out to greet us.

  That night I lay in a dank and gloomy cell of the prison of Toulouse,with never a hope to bear company during those dark, wakeful hours.

  A dull rage was in my soul as I thought of my position, for it had notneeded Castelroux's recommendation to restrain me from building falsehopes upon his chances of finding Rodenard and my followers in timeto save me. Some little ray of consolation I culled, perhaps, from mythoughts of Roxalanne. Out of the gloom of my cell my fancy fashionedher sweet girl face and stamped it with a look of gentle pity, ofinfinite sorrow for me and for the hand she had had in bringing me tothis.

  That she loved me I was assured, and I swore that if I lived I wouldwin her yet, in spite of every obstacle that I myself had raised for myundoing.