CHAPTER XIV. EAVESDROPPING
I turned it over in my mind, after I had left the King's presence,whether or not I should visit with my own hands upon Chatellerault thepunishment he had so fully earned. That I would have gone about the taskrejoicing you may readily imagine; but there was that accursed wager,and--to restrain me--the thought of how such an action might beconstrued into an evasion of its consequences. Better a thousand timesthat His Majesty should order his arrest and deal with him for hisattempted perversion of justice to the service of his own vile ends. Thecharge of having abused his trust as King's commissioner to the extentof seeking to do murder through the channels of the Tribunal was onethat could not fail to have fatal results for him--as, indeed, the Kinghad sworn.
That was the position of affairs as it concerned Chatellerault, theworld, and me. But the position must also be considered as it concernedRoxalanne, and deeply, indeed, did I so consider it. Much ponderingbrought me again to the conclusion that until I had made the onlyatonement in my power, the only atonement that would leave me with cleanhands, I must not again approach her.
Whether Chatellerault had cheated or not could not affect the questionas it concerned Mademoiselle and me. If I paid the wager--whether inhonour bound to do so or not--I might then go to her, impoverished,it is true, but at least with no suspicion attaching to my suit of anyulterior object other than that of winning Roxalanne herself.
I could then make confession, and surely the fact that I had paid whereclearly there was no longer any need to pay must earn me forgiveness andafford proof of the sincerity of my passion.
Upon such a course, then, did I decide, and, with this end in view, Itook my way towards the Auberge Royale, where His Majesty had told methat the Count was lodged. It was my purpose to show myself fully awareof the treacherous and unworthy part he had played at the very inceptionof the affair, and that if I chose to consider the wager lost it wasthat I might the more honestly win the lady.
Upon inquiring at the hostelry for Monsieur de Chatellerault I wasinformed by the servant I addressed that he was within, but that at themoment he had a visitor. I replied that I would wait, and demanded aprivate room, since I desired to avoid meeting any Court acquaintanceswho might chance into the auberge before I had seen the Count.
My apparel at the moment may not have been all that could have beendesired, but when a gentleman's rearing has taken place amid an army ofservitors to minister to his every wish, he is likely to have acquiredan air that is wont to win him obedience. With all celerity was Iushered into a small chamber, opening on the one side upon thecommon room, and being divided on the other by the thinnest of woodenpartitions from the adjoining apartment.
Here, the landlord having left me, I disposed myself to wait, and here Idid a thing I would not have believed myself capable of doing, a thingI cannot think of without blushing to this very day. In short, I playedthe eavesdropper--I, Marcel Saint-Pol de Bardelys. Yet, if you who readand are nice-minded, shudder at this confession, or, worse still, shrugyour shoulders in contempt, with the reflection that such formerconduct of mine as I have avowed had already partly disposed you againstsurprise at this I do but ask that you measure my sin by my temptation,and think honestly whether in my position you might not yourselves havefallen. Aye--be you never so noble and high-principled--I make bold tosay that you had done no less, for the voice that penetrated to my earswas that of Roxalanne de Lavedan.
"I sought an audience with the King," she was saying, "but I could notgain his presence. They told me that he was holding no levees, and thathe refused to see any one not introduced by one of those having theprivate entree."
"And so," answered the voice of Chatellerault, in tones that wereperfectly colourless, "you come to me that I may present you to hisMajesty?"
"You have guessed it, Monsieur le Comte. You are the only gentlemanof His Majesty's suite, with whom I can claim acquaintance--howeverslight--and, moreover, it is well known how high you stand in his royalfavour. I was told that they that have a boon to crave can find nobetter sponsor."
"Had you gone to the King, mademoiselle," said he, "had you gainedaudience, he would have directed you to make your appeal to me. I am hisCommissioner in Languedoc, and the prisoners attainted with high treasonare my property."
"Why then, monsieur," she cried in an eager voice, that set my pulsesthrobbing, "you'll not deny me the boon I crave? You'll not deny me hislife?"
There was a short laugh from Chatellerault, and I could hear thedeliberate fall of his feet as he paced the chamber.
"Mademoiselle, mademoiselle, you must not overrate my powers. You mustnot forget that I am the slave of Justice. You may be asking more thanis in my power to grant. What can you advance to show that I should bejustified in proceeding as you wish?"
"Helas, monsieur, I can advance nothing but my prayers and the assurancethat a hideous mistake is being made."
"What is your interest in this Monsieur de Lesperon?"
"He is not Monsieur de Lesperon," she cried.
"But, since you cannot tell me who he is, you must be content that wespeak of him at least as Lesperon," said he, and I could imagine theevil grin with which he would accompany the words.
The better that you may appreciate that which followed, let me hereimpart to you the suspicions which were already sinking into my mind, tobe changed later into absolute convictions touching the course the Countintended to pursue concerning me. The sudden arrival of the King hadthrown him into some measure of panic, and no longer daring to carry outhis plans concerning me, it was his object, I made no doubt, to set meat liberty that very evening. Ere he did so, however, and presuming uponmy ignorance of His Majesty's presence in Toulouse, Chatellerault wouldof a certainty have bound me down by solemn promise--making that promisethe price of my liberty and my life--to breathe no word of my captivityand trial. No doubt, his cunning brain would have advanced me plausibleand convincing reasons so to engage myself.
He had not calculated upon Castelroux, nor that the King should alreadyhave heard of my detention. Now that Roxalanne came to entreat him to dothat which already he saw himself forced to do, he turned his attentionto the profit that he might derive from her interestedness on my behalf.I could guess also something of the jealous rage that must fill him atthis signal proof of my success with her, and already I anticipated, Ithink, the bargain that he would drive.
"Tell me, then," he was repeating, "what is your interest in thisgentleman?"
There was a silence. I could imagine her gentle face clouded with thetrouble that sprang from devising an' answer to that question; I couldpicture her innocent eyes cast down, her delicate cheeks pinked by somemeasure of shame, as at last, in a low, stifled voice, the four wordsbroke from her "I love him, monsieur."
Ah, Dieu! To hear her confess it so! If yesternight it had stirred me tothe very depths of my poor, sinful soul to have her say so much to me,how infinitely more did it not affect me to overhear this frank avowalof it to another! And to think that she was undergoing all this to theend that she might save me!
From Chatellerault there came an impatient snort in answer, and his feetagain smote the floor as he resumed the pacing that for a moment he hadsuspended. Then followed a pause, a long silence, broken only by theCount's restless walking to and fro. At last "Why are you silent,monsieur?" she asked in a trembling voice.
"Helas, mademoiselle, I can do nothing. I had feared that it might bethus with you; and, if I put the question, it was in the hope that I waswrong."
"But he, monsieur?" she exclaimed in anguish. "What of him?"
"Believe me, mademoiselle, if it lay in my power I would save him werehe never so guilty, if only that I might spare you sorrow."
He spoke with tender regret, foul hypocrite that he was!
"Oh, no, no!" she cried, and her voice was of horror and despair. "Youdo not mean that--" She stopped short; and then, after a pause, it wasthe Count who finished the sentence for her.
"I mean, mademoisel
le, that this Lesperon must die!"
You will marvel that I let her suffer so, that I did not break down thepartition with my hands and strike that supple gentleman dead at herfeet in atonement for the anguish he was causing her. But I had a mindto see how far he would drive this game he was engaged upon.
Again there was a spell of silence, and at last, when Mademoisellespoke, I was amazed at the calm voice in which she addressed him,marvelling at the strength and courage of one so frail and childlike tobehold.
"Is your determination, indeed, irrevocable, monsieur? If you have anypity, will you not at least let me bear my prayers and my tears to theKing?"
"It would avail you nothing. As I have said, the Languedoc rebels arein my hands." He paused as if to let those words sink well into herunderstanding; then, "If I were to set him at liberty, mademoiselle, ifI were to spirit him out of prison in the night, bribing his jailers tokeep silent and binding him by oath to quit France at once and never tobetray me, I should be, myself, guilty of high treason. Thus alone couldthe thing be done, and you will see, mademoiselle, that by doing it Ishould be endangering my neck."
There was an ineffable undercurrent of meaning in his words--anintangible suggestion that he might be bribed to do all this to which heso vaguely alluded.
"I understand, monsieur," she answered, choking--"I understand that itwould be too much to ask of you."
"It would be much, mademoiselle," he returned quickly, and his voice wasnow subdued and invested with an odd quiver. "But nothing that your lipsmight ask of me and that it might lie in the power of mortal man to do,would be too much!"
"You mean?" she cried, a catch in her breath. Had she guessed--as I,without sight of her face, had guessed--what was to follow? My gorge wasrising fast. I clenched my hands, and by an effort I restrained myselfto learn that I had guessed aright.
"Some two months ago," he said, "I journeyed to Lavedan, as you mayremember. I saw you, mademoiselle--for a brief while only, it istrue--and ever since I have seen nothing else but you." His voice went ashade lower, and passion throbbed in his words.
She, too, perceived it, for the grating of a chair informed me that shehad risen.
"Not now, monsieur--not now!" she exclaimed. "This is not the season. Ibeg of you think of my desolation."
"I do, mademoiselle, and I respect your grief, and, with all my heart,believe me, I share it. Yet this is the season, and if you have thisman's interests at heart, you will hear me to the end."
Through all the imperiousness of his tone an odd note of respect--realor assumed--was sounding.
"If you suffer, mademoiselle, believe me that I suffer also, and if Imake you suffer more by what I say, I beg that you will think how whatyou have said, how the very motive of your presence here, has made mesuffer. Do you know, mademoiselle, what it is to be torn by jealousy?Can you imagine it? If you can, you can imagine also something of thetorture I endured when you confessed to me that you loved this Lesperon,when you interceded for his life. Mademoiselle, I love you--with all myheart and soul I love you. I have loved you, I think, since the firstmoment of our meeting at Lavedan, and to win you there is no risk that Iwould not take, no danger that I would not brave."
"Monsieur, I implore you--"
"Hear me out, mademoiselle!" he cried. Then in quieter voice heproceeded: "At present you love this Monsieur de Lesperon--"
"I shall always love him! Always, monsieur!"
"Wait, wait, wait!" he exclaimed, annoyed by her interruption. "If hewere to live, and you were to wed him and be daily in his company, Imake no doubt your love might endure. But if he were to die, or if hewere to pass into banishment and you were to see him no more, you wouldmourn him for a little while, and then--Helas! it is the way of men andwomen--time would heal first your sorrow, then your heart."
"Never, monsieur--oh, never!"
"I am older, child, than you are. I know. At present you are anxiousto save his life anxious because you love him, and also because youbetrayed him, and you would not have his death upon your conscience."He paused a moment; then raising his voice, "Mademoiselle," said he, "Ioffer you your lover's life."
"Monsieur, monsieur!" cried the poor child, "I knew you were good! Iknew--"
"A moment! Do not misapprehend me. I do not say that I give it--I offerit."
"But the difference?"
"That if you would have it, mademoiselle, you must buy it. I have saidthat for you I would brave all dangers. To save your lover, I bravethe scaffold. If I am betrayed, or if the story transpire, my headwill assuredly fall in the place of Lesperon's. This I will risk,mademoiselle--I will do it gladly--if you will promise to become my wifewhen it is done."
There was a moan from Roxalanne, then silence; then--"Oh, monsieur, youare pitiless! What bargain is this that you offer me?"
"A fair one, surely," said that son of hell--"a very fair one. The riskof my life against your hand in marriage."
"If you--if you truly loved me as you say, monsieur," she reasoned, "youwould serve me without asking guerdon."
"In any other thing I would. But is it fair to ask a man who is rackedby love of you to place another in your arms, and that at the risk ofhis own life? Ah, mademoiselle, I am but a man, and I am subject tohuman weaknesses. If you will consent, this Lesperon shall go free, butyou must see him no more; and I will carry my consideration so far asto give you six months in which to overcome your sorrow, ere I presentmyself to you again to urge my suit."
"And if I refuse, monsieur?"
He sighed.
"To the value which I set upon my life you must add my very humanjealousy. From such a combination what can you hope for?"
"You mean, in short, that he must die?"
"To-morrow," was that infernal cheat's laconic answer.
They were silent a little while, then she fell a-sobbing.
"Be pitiful, monsieur! Have mercy if you, indeed, love me. Oh, he mustnot die! I cannot, I dare not, let him die! Save him, monsieur, and Iwill pray for you every night of my life; I will pray for you to ourHoly Mother as I am now praying to you for him."
Lived there the man to resist that innocent, devout appeal? Lived thereone who in answer to such gentle words of love and grief could obtrudehis own coarse passions? It seems there did, for all he answered was"You know the price, child."
"And God pity me! I must pay it. I must, for if he dies I shall havehis blood upon my conscience!" Then she checked her grief, and her voicegrew almost stern in the restraint she set upon herself. "If I give youmy promise to wed you hereafter--say in six months' time--what proofwill you afford me that he who is detained under the name of Lesperonshall go free?"
I caught the sound of something very like a gasp from the Count.
"Remain in Toulouse until to-morrow, and to-night ere he departs heshall come to take his leave of you. Are you content?"
"Be it so, monsieur," she answered.
Then at last I leapt to my feet. I could endure no more. You may marvelthat I had had the heart to endure so much, and to have so let hersuffer that I might satisfy myself how far this scoundrel Chatelleraultwould drive his trickster's bargain.
A more impetuous man would have beaten down the partition, or shoutedto her through it the consolation that Chatellerault's bargain was nobargain at all, since I was already at large. And that is where a moreimpetuous man would have acted upon instinct more wisely than did I uponreason. Instead, I opened the door, and, crossing the common room, Iflung myself down a passage that I thought must lead to the chamber inwhich they were closeted. But in this I was at fault, and ere I had comeupon a waiter and been redirected some precious moments were lost.He led me back through the common room to a door opening upon anothercorridor. He pushed it wide, and I came suddenly face to face withChatellerault, still flushed from his recent contest.
"You here!" he gasped, his jaw falling, and his cheeks turning pale,as well they might; for all that he could not dream I had overheard hisbargaining.
"We will go ba
ck, if you please, Monsieur le Comte." said I.
"Back where?" he asked stupidly.
"Back to Mademoiselle. Back to the room you have just quitted." And nonetoo gently I pushed him into the corridor again, and so, in the gloom, Imissed the expression of his face.
"She is not there," said he.
I laughed shortly.
"Nevertheless, we will go back," I insisted.
And so I had my way, and we gained the room where his infamous traffichad been held. Yet for once he spoke the truth. She was no longer there.
"Where is she?" I demanded angrily.
"Gone," he answered; and when I protested that I had not met her, "Youwould not have a lady go by way of the public room, would you?" hedemanded insolently. "She left by the side door into the courtyard."
"That being so, Monsieur le Comte," said I quietly, "I will have alittle talk with you before going after her." And I carefully closed thedoor.
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