The Launching of Roger Brook

by Dennis Wheatley

  ‘What the devil d’you mean?’ Roger exclaimed, flushing hotly, although he knew perfectly well at what De Roubec was driving.

  ‘You know what I mean,’ declared the Chevalier, mouthing his words thickly. ‘And a fine return you made for my interest in you. Not only do you insult a poor girl and upset a well-conducted house to which I introduced you; but by going there as my friend and behaving as you did you put a shame upon me publicly.’

  ‘If you consider that thieving rabble a public worthy of consideration, God pity you,’ flared Roger.

  ‘So now you have the impudence to call in question the company I keep?’

  ‘Yes, when ’tis composed of whores, bawds and lechers. And what blame to me if, having no stomach for such scum. I choose to leave it?’ Roger was now speaking in mangled French and English but anger sent enough scarce-remembered French words to his tongue for his meaning to be clear.

  ‘Well enough, my little anchorite,’ came the swift retort, ‘But no gentleman occupies a wench’s time, then leaves his friend to pay for the dish he leaves untasted.’

  ‘I did no such thing. I gave the girl a guinea before I left her room, and that old bitch of a Madame made me disburse a further louis before they would let me out of the house.’

  ‘I find it difficult to believe that, since I am an old habitué of the place and they made me pay up on your behalf.’

  ‘D’you call me a liar?’

  ‘What of it, if I did? You are but a tom-tit dressed in the fine feathers of a peacock, and have not the guts to tumble a woman, let alone fight a man.’

  ‘I’ll not suffer being called a liar, though,’ Roger stormed. ‘I tell you I paid that trollop.’

  ‘And I tell you I did.’

  ‘Why should you have done so? ’Twas not your affair.’

  ‘’Tis you who are calling me a liar now,’ cried the Chevalier furiously. ‘If you carried that long sword of yours as anything but an ornament, Corbleau, I’d compel you to use it!’

  ‘’Tis not an ornament,’ yelled Roger, half-mad with rage.

  ‘In that case apologise or draw it, you ill-mannered brat!’

  As De Roubec placed his hand upon the hilt of his own sword Roger’s impulse to continue the violent altercation suffered a sharp check. He felt certain that the Chevalier, like himself on leaving the brothel, was a little drunk, and that his own brain was still somewhat heated by the fumes of the bad wine. It was fair enough to maintain one’s own view-point in a heated argument, particularly when one felt oneself to be in the right, but very different to risk a sword-thrust through the body. De Roubec was a head taller than himself and, for all he knew, an expert swordsman; so, although he was loath to retreat absolutely he was scared enough to attempt a postponement of the issue.

  ‘Hold!’ he exclaimed. ‘Take thought, I beg. We cannot fight like this. If one of us were killed the other would be taken for murder. If fight we must at least proceed like gentlemen and arrange a proper duel with seconds as witnesses, in the morning.’

  ‘Who spoke of a duel,’ sneered De Roubec. ‘I’ll not make myself the laughing stock of Le Havre by challenging a puppy such as you. As for killing, dismiss the thought. I mean but to cut your ears off and send them to Mou-Mou as a salve for her wounded pride. Come, draw, or I’ll slice them from your head as you stand there.’

  Roger was aghast and realised that the Chevalier must be much drunker than he had at first thought him. Street brawls in which drunken rakes quarrelled and drew their swords upon one another without seconds, while staggering home in the small hours of the morning, were still quite common in all large cities; but De Roubec’s cause for offence seemed absurdly trivial and his proposal about sending Mou-Mou her recent visitor’s ears positively fantastic.

  ‘Stop!’ cried Roger, ‘you can’t be serious. You must be drunk to talk like this of making yourself the champion of a harlot!’

  ‘Drunk, am I?’ De Roubec roared. ‘We’ll soon see if I’m drunk or not. And if for naught else I’ll slit your ears to teach you manners.’ Upon which he lurched forward and wrenched his blade from its scabbard.

  Roger was frightened now. An exciting bout with foils in the fencing school was one thing; to fight in deadly earnest with naked steel quite another. But there was no escape. Springing back a pace he drew his sword and threw himself on guard.

  The blades came together with a clash and circling round each other shimmered in the moonlight. For a moment, with added apprehension, Roger felt that the unaccustomed length of his weapon would tell against him, but he suddenly realised that not only was the fine Toledo blade much more resilient and easier to wield than he supposed, but its length cancelled out the natural advantage that De Roubec would otherwise have had from his longer reach.

  In a formal duel both of them would have spent a few cautious moments in getting the feel of the other’s steel before going in to the attack; but the Chevalier was in no mood to waste time trifling with his young antagonist. Within a minute he had delivered three swift lunges and advancing with each strove to force down Roger’s guard by the sheer weight of his stronger arm.

  Roger knew that if he allowed these tactics to continue he would never be able to stay the course. If he remained on the defensive his more powerful opponent would soon tire him out and have him at his mercy.

  He was dead sober now and fighting skilfully. Almost to his amazement he found that he could hold his own, at least for a limited period, but he knew that he must attempt to end the fight before he felt the first signs of exhaustion.

  How to do so was now his problem. They had twice circled round one another, their blades close-knit and flashing like living fire. Roger sidestepped twice in order to get the moon behind him and in the Chevalier’s eyes. He was almost as afraid of killing his antagonist, for fear of what might befall him later if he did, as of being killed himself; so he essayed a pass that the old Master-of-Arms at Sherborne had taught him.

  With a sudden spring forward he ran his sword up De Roubec’s until the hilts met with a clash; he then gave a violent twist. The Chevalier let out a gasp of pain and his sword flew from his hand as the result of a half-sprained wrist.

  It somersaulted through the air to fall with a clatter on the cobbles twenty feet away. As Roger had been taught that a disabled man might run after his weapon, pick it up and renew the fight, he dashed over to the fallen sword himself and put his foot upon it. Then, seeing that the Chevalier had made no move, he picked it up and walked slowly back.

  De Roubec seemed momentarily stunned by his defeat and when he spoke his voice no longer carried any hint of the liquor he had consumed.

  ‘Monsieur Brook,’ he said soberly, ‘my service to you. Believe me I had no real intent to do you harm; but I was a little in wine, and a stupid impulse urged me to give a young man, whom I felt had been guilty of some rudeness towards me, a lesson. As it is I have been taught one myself.’

  The apology was so handsome that Roger could not but accept it, and it was not in his nature to bear malice. So, with a bow, he handed the Chevalier back his sword, and said:

  ‘Pray, think no more of it, Monsieur le Chevalier. I admit now that I was much at fault myself. You had, I am sure, the best intentions in taking me to these places of entertainment and ‘twas kind of you to seek to provide amusement for a stranger. That I could raise no zest for little Mou-Mou was no fault of yours, and I should have made myself clear on that head much earlier. But I give you my word that I paid not once but twice for the dubious privilege of spending an hour in her company.’

  ‘And I willingly accept it, as I feel sure you will accept mine that I also paid the young harpy.’

  ‘Indeed, I do; so let us both thank God that we have no cause for more serious regrets on the matter than are occasioned by a few squandered guineas.’

  De Roubec took Roger’s arm. ‘I swear to you, mon ami, that even in a drunken temper I would never have harmed you seriously. Indeed I vow I drew upon you only with the
intent of scaring you into running away.’

  He spoke with such earnestness that Roger found it difficult to doubt his sincerity and he flushed with pleasure as the Chevalier went on:

  ‘But what address you showed, and what courage! Having scratched a Chinaman I found a Tartar, and I was hard put to it to defend myself. Come now, my mouth is as dry as a bin of sawdust from that villainous champagne, and I am sobered up entirely. To show that there is no ill-feeling left between us let’s drink a bottle of good Burgundy together before we go to bed.’

  Roger’s throat now also felt dry and parched so he readily assented, and they began to hammer with their sword hilts on the nail-studded door of the inn.

  After a while it was opened by the wizened little serving-man who, having been aroused from his sleep in a cubbyhole under the stairs, grumblmgly admitted them.

  De Roubec pulled out a fistful of crowns and showed them to the man, as he said, ‘Stir your stumps, knave, and get us up a bottle of Burgundy from the cellar. And a good one, mind; a Chambertin or a Hospice de Beaune, if you have it.’

  Having lit the lantern in the parlour for them the man disappeared, to return a few minutes later with a dust-encrusted bottle and glasses. After uncorking the wine and taking the money for it he shambled off back to his cubbyhole out in the hall.

  The two recent antagonists now toasted one another with most friendly phrases and both felt considerably better after a good drink of the clean, generous Burgundy. The sight of the Chevalier’s pocket full of crowns had recalled to Roger that even if the later form of entertainment to which his companion had introduced him had proved a fiasco the earlier had been an unqualified success, and he remarked:

  ‘You must have made a pretty sum at Monsieur Tricot’s, since towards the end you were staking double crowns’

  ‘’Tis but indifferent sport playing at a low table,’ shrugged De Roubec grandly. ‘But ‘twas none too bad a haul, and ‘twill serve to keep me in wine for a day or two; with luck until my funds arrive. My sole regret is that you plan to leave Le Havre so soon, otherwise ’twould have been a pleasure to afford you some entertainment of your own choosing out of my winnings.’

  ‘I hope to complete my business tomorrow,’ said Roger, ‘but it may be a day or two before I can secure a passage home, and if so I will certainly avail myself of your kind invitation.’

  De Roubec nodded. ‘Pray do not think that I have any desire to pry into your affairs, but I know Le Havre well, and if you feel that I might be of any assistance to you in this business of yours, do not hesitate to command me.’

  Roger was now feeling in great fettle. The fact that he had actually fought in earnest for the first time and emerged victorious from the encounter filled him with elation; and, since the cause of the affray now appeared to have been no more than a stupid misunderstanding brought about by the fumes of dubious liquor, he was, not unnaturally, drawn towards his late antagonist. The Chevalier had, he felt, gone out of his way to take an interest in him as a young and lonely stranger, had seen to it that he got a good exchange for his English money and had enabled him to win a nice little sum. Moreover, it now seemed to him that the expedition to the ‘Widow Scarron’ should not be held against his new friend, since it might have appeared to many young men as the high-spot in an evening out. The Chevalier had, too, take his defeat like a gentleman and was at the moment playing the generous host.

  None of the excitements of the past twenty-four hours had caused Roger to forget for long that his sole purpose in coming to France was the satisfactory disposal of Georgina’s jewels, and this had yet to be accomplished. It struck him now that instead of seeking out a goldsmith for himself and dealing with one who might or might not give him a good price, he could both save himself time in the morning and make certain of securing a fair deal by consulting De Roubec, so he asked:

  ‘Do you perchance know of an honest goldsmith here in Le Havre?’

  ‘Why, yes,’ replied the Chevalier, after only a moment’s hesitation. ‘I know of several. Do you wish to make a purchase or have you something to sell?’

  ‘I wish to dispose of some trinkets, mainly gold items, but a few with gems set in them and a number of cameos. To do so was, in fact, my reason for coming to France.’

  De Roubec’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Roger, seeing this, did not wonder, as the bare statement might have put all sorts of ideas into anyone’s head. With his usual quick inventiveness he went on to offer an entirely false explanation.

  ‘These jewels belonged to my mother’s twin sister, who died recently. The two were prodigiously devoted to one another and my father felt that should my mother perchance see any of them being worn by one of her neighbours the shock would affect her most severely. Yet he has need of the money they will bring; so, not wishing to dispose of them locally, he decided that the best course would be to send them abroad. As he was recalled to his ship unexpectedly and could not cross to France himself he charged me with this mission. Unfortunately I have little experience in such matters and if you could assist me in it I’d be mighty obliged to you.’

  Having listened attentively to Roger’s somewhat mangled French, De Roubec nodded. ‘’Twill be a pleasure. I know the very man and will take you to him in the morning.’

  Roger thanked him and they talked for a while on other topics, the Chevalier having apparently dismissed the matter of the jewels from his mind; but both of them were now feeling tired so as soon as they had finished their wine they went upstairs to bed.

  After looking under the loose board in the floor to make certain that his treasure was still there, Roger undressed to his shirt and slipping between the coarse cotton sheets was soon asleep.

  He woke late in the morning, as he judged from the angle of the sun that it must be near nine o’clock, and after a hurried toilet transferred the jewels from their hiding-place to his pockets, then went downstairs.

  The coffee room was deserted and to his surprise he found that rolls, butter and confiture were the only food provided for breakfast. Not being accustomed to such meagre fare he asked for something more substantial, and after a wait of ten minutes he was brought an omelette fines herbes; a dish entirely new to him but one which he thoroughly enjoyed.

  On finishing his meal he went in search of De Roubec, and found that lanky gentleman lazily sunning himself on the front porch.

  ‘Ah, there you are!’ said the Chevalier, displaying his bad teeth in a friendly smile, ‘I trust you had a good night?’

  ‘Excellent, I thank you,’ Roger smiled back. ‘Except that I fear I slept over late, and I am naturally anxious to get my business settled as soon as possible. Would it be troubling you too much to take me this forenoon to the goldsmith you spoke of?’

  ‘Willingly; but I have been giving some little thought to the matter, and an idea upon it had occurred to me. I take it you are not so pressed for time as to be unable to afford me a few moments’ private converse in the parlour. There is no one about, so we shall have it to ourselves.’

  ‘By all means,’ Roger agreed. So they went into the parlour together and, having closed the door carefully behind him, De Roubec fastened the latch so that they should not be interrupted.

  Wondering a little what these mysterious precautions portended, Roger sat down at one of the tables, but the Chevalier reassured him by saying: ‘There is no cause for alarm, yet one cannot be too careful when discussing transactions in which large sums of money are involved.’

  Seating himself on the settee at Roger’s side he went on in a low voice: ‘May I ask if you have mentioned this matter to anyone else?’

  ‘No,’ said Roger. ‘Not a soul in France knows of it other than yourself. I thought it unwise to noise it about that I was carrying upon me anything of such value.’

  De Roubec nodded approvingly. ‘I am relieved to hear it, and ‘twas fortunate that in myself you chose an honest man to confide in. After all, you know little enough about me as it is, and great seaports suc
h as this abound in rogues who would not scruple to cut your throat for a handful of louis.’

  ‘If one both drinks and fights with a man yet remains friends with him afterwards, one has fair reason to trust him,’ Roger laughed. ‘And I certainly trust you.’

  The Chevalier bowed. ‘I am sensible of it, and should be prodigious distressed if it were not so. Have you the jewels perchance upon you now, or did you deposit them yesterday with a banker?’

  ‘No, at the moment I have them spread about in pockets all over my person, as together they make quite a bulky bundle.’

  ‘May I have sight of them?’

  ‘Certainly, if you wish.’

  As Roger began to produce the trinkets and lay them out on the table the Chevalier added: ‘I ask only that I may get some idea as to their value, as it would be well if we fixed a price in our own minds before offering them to a goldsmith; and, although you are doubtless aware of their worth, I may be able to assist you in assessing what they are likely to fetch in France.’

  One by one he picked up the items of the collection and examined them through his quizzing glass then, as Roger began to stow them back in his pockets again, he asked: ‘What price had you in mind?’

  ‘Five hundred guineas,’ said Roger, thinking it best not to show his ignorance by naming too small a sum.

  De Roubec shook his head. They may be worth that in England, where everyone is very rich; but I doubt if you will get that for them in France. I am no expert in such trifles, but if they were mine I should be glad to accept three hundred and eighty louis for the lot. They are mostly old-fashioned pieces and of little value apart from their weight as gold.’

  Roger was far from disappointed, as he had been quite prepared to let them go for two hundred and fifty if he could get no better offer; and he congratulated himself again on having consulted the Chevalier, as, by having done so, he felt that he had as good as made himself an additional hundred and thirty pounds.