Under the Red Robe

by Stanley John Weyman

  CHAPTER VIII. A MASTER STROKE--Continued

  I took from my breast a little packet wrapped in soft leather, and Iheld it towards her.

  'Will you open this?' I said. 'I believe that it contains what yourbrother lost. That it contains all I will not answer, Mademoiselle,because I spilled the stones on the floor of my room, and I may havefailed to find some. But the others can be recovered; I know where theyare.'

  She took the packet slowly and began to unroll it, her fingers shaking.A few turns and the mild lustre of the stones shone out, making a kindof moonlight in her hands--such a shimmering glory of imprisoned lightas has ruined many a woman and robbed many a man of his honour. MORBLEU!as I looked at them and as she stood looking at them in dull, entrancedperplexity--I wondered how I had come to resist the temptation.

  While I gazed her hands began to waver.

  'I cannot count,' she muttered helplessly. 'How many are there?'

  'In all, eighteen.'

  'There should be eighteen,' she said.

  She closed her hand on them with that, and opened it again, and did sotwice, as if to reassure herself that the stones were real and that shewas not dreaming. Then she turned to me with sudden fierceness, and Isaw that her beautiful face, sharpened by the greed of possession, wasgrown as keen and vicious as before.

  'Well?' she muttered between her teeth.

  'Your price, man? Your price?'

  'I am coming to it now, Mademoiselle,' I said gravely. 'It is a simplematter. You remember the afternoon when I followed you--clumsily andthoughtlessly perhaps--through the wood to restore these things? Inseeming that happened about a month ago. I believe that it happened theday before yesterday. You called me then some very harsh names, which Iwill not hurt you by repeating. The only price I ask for the restorationof your jewels is that you on your part recall those names.'

  'How?' she muttered. 'I do not understand.'

  I repeated my words very slowly. 'The only price or reward I ask,Mademoiselle, is that you take back those names and say that they werenot deserved.'

  'And the jewels?' she exclaimed hoarsely.

  'They are yours. They are not mine. They are nothing to me. Take them,and say that you do not think of me--Nay, I cannot say the words,Mademoiselle.'

  'But there is something--else! What else?' she cried, her head thrownback, her eyes, bright as any wild animal's, searching mine. 'Ha! mybrother? What of him? What of him, sir?'

  'For him, Mademoiselle--I would prefer that you should tell me no morethan I know already,' I answered in a low voice. 'I do not wish to be inthat affair. But yes; there is one thing I have not mentioned. You areright.'

  She sighed so deeply that I caught the sound.

  'It is,' I continued slowly, 'that you will permit me to remain atCocheforet for a few days while the soldiers are here. I am told thatthere are twenty men and two officers quartered in your house. Yourbrother is away. I ask to be permitted, Mademoiselle, to take his placefor the time, and to be privileged to protect your sister and yourselffrom insult. That is all.'

  She raised her hand to her head. After a long pause,--

  'The frogs!' she muttered, 'they croak! I can not hear.'

  Then, to my surprise, she turned quickly and suddenly on her heel, andwalked over the bridge, leaving me standing there. For a moment I stoodaghast, peering after her shadowy figure, and wondering what had takenher. Then, in a minute or less, she came quickly back to me, and Iunderstood. She was crying.

  'M. de Barthe,' she said, in a trembling voice, which told me that thevictory was won, 'is there nothing else? Have you no other penance forme?'

  'None, Mademoiselle.'

  She had drawn the shawl over her head, and I no longer saw her face.

  'That is all you ask?' she murmured.

  'That is all I ask--now,' I answered.

  'It is granted,' she said slowly and firmly. 'Forgive me if I seem tospeak lightly--if I seem to make little of your generosity or my shame;but I can say no more now. I am so deep in trouble and so gnawed byterror that--I cannot feel anything keenly to-night, either shame orgratitude. I am in a dream; God grant that it may pass as a dream!We are sunk in trouble. But for you and what you have done, M. deBarthe--I--' she paused and I heard her fighting with the sobs whichchoked her--'forgive me... I am overwrought. And my--my feet are cold,'she added, suddenly and irrelevantly. 'Will you take me home?'

  'Ah, Mademoiselle,' I cried remorsefully, 'I have been a beast! You arebarefoot, and I have kept you here.'

  'It is nothing,' she said in a voice which thrilled me. 'My heart iswarm, Monsieur--thanks to you. It is many hours since it has been aswarm.'

  She stepped out of the shadow as she spoke--and there, the thing wasdone. As I had planned, so it had come about. Once more I was crossingthe meadow in the dark to be received at Cocheforet, a welcome guest.The frogs croaked in the pool and a bat swooped round us in circles;and surely never--never, I thought, with a kind of exultation in mybreast--had man been placed in a stranger position.

  Somewhere in the black wood behind us--probably in the outskirts of thevillage--lurked M. de Cocheforet. In the great house before us, outlinedby a score of lighted windows, were the soldiers come from Auch to takehim. Between the two, moving side by side in the darkness, in a silencewhich each found to be eloquent, were Mademoiselle and I: she who knewso much, I who knew all--all but one little thing!

  We reached the house, and I suggested that she should steal in first bythe way she had come out, and that I should wait a little and knock atthe door when she had had time to explain matters to Clon.

  'They do not let me see Clon,' she answered slowly.

  'Then your woman must tell him,' I rejoined, 'or he may do something andbetray me.'

  'They will not let our women come to us.'

  'What?' I cried, astonished. 'But this is infamous. You are notprisoners!'

  Mademoiselle laughed harshly.

  'Are we not? Well, I suppose not; for if we wanted company, CaptainLarolle said that he would be delighted to see us--in the parlour.'

  'He has taken your parlour?' I said.

  'He and his lieutenant sit there. But I suppose that we rebels should bethankful,' she added bitterly; 'we have still our bedrooms left to us.'

  'Very well,' I said. 'Then I must deal with Clon as I can. But I havestill a favour to ask, Mademoiselle. It is only that you and your sisterwill descend to-morrow at your usual time. I shall be in the parlour.'

  'I would rather not,' she said, pausing and speaking in a troubledvoice.

  'Are you afraid?'

  'No, Monsieur, I am not afraid,' she answered proudly, 'but--'

  'You will come?' I said.

  She sighed before she spoke. At length,--

  'Yes, I will come--if you wish it,' she answered. And the next momentshe was gone round the corner of the house, while I laughed to thinkof the excellent watch these gallant gentlemen were keeping. M. deCocheforet might have been with her in the garden, might have talkedwith her as I had talked, might have entered the house even, and passedunder their noses scot-free. But that is the way of soldiers. They arealways ready for the enemy, with drums beating and flags flying--at teno'clock in the morning. But he does not always come at that hour.

  I waited a little, and then I groped my way to the door and knocked onit with the hilt of my sword. The dogs began to bark at the back, andthe chorus of a drinking-song, which came fitfully from the east wing,ceased altogether. An inner door opened, and an angry voice, apparentlyan officer's, began to rate someone for not coming. Another moment, anda clamour of voices and footsteps seemed to pour into the hall, andfill it. I heard the bar jerked away, the door was flung open, and ina twinkling a lanthorn, behind which a dozen flushed visages were dimlyseen, was thrust into my face.

  'Why, who the fiend is this?' one cried, glaring at me in astonishment.

  'MORBLEU! It is the man!' another shrieked. 'Seize him!'

  In a moment half a dozen hands were laid on my s
houlders, but I onlybowed politely.

  'The officer, my friends,' I said, 'M. le Capitaine Larolle. 'Where ishe?'

  'DIABLE! but who are you, first?' the lanthorn-bearer retorted bluntly.He was a tall, lanky sergeant, with a sinister face.

  'Well, I am not M. de Cocheforet,' I replied; 'and that must satisfyyou, my man. For the rest, if you do not fetch Captain Larolle at onceand admit me, you will find the consequences inconvenient.'

  'Ho! ho!' he said with a sneer. 'You can crow, it seems. Well, come in.'

  They made way, and I walked into the hall keeping my hat on. On thegreat hearth a fire had been kindled, but it had gone out. Three orfour carbines stood against one wall, and beside them lay a heap ofhaversacks and some straw. A shattered stool, broken in a frolic, andhalf a dozen empty wine-skins strewed the floor, and helped to give theplace an air of untidiness and disorder. I looked round with eyes ofdisgust, and my gorge rose. They had spilled oil, and the place reekedfoully.

  'VENTRE BLEU!' I said. 'Is this conduct in a gentleman's house, yourascals? MA VIE! If I had you I would send half of you to the woodenhorse!'

  They gazed at me open-mouthed; my arrogance startled them. The sergeantalone scowled. When he could find his voice for rage--

  'This way!' he said. 'We did not know that a general officer was coming,or we would have been better prepared!' And muttering oaths underhis breath, he led me down the well-known passage. At the door of theparlour he stopped. 'Introduce yourself!' he said rudely. 'And if youfind the air warm, don't blame me!'

  I raised the latch and went in. At a table in front of the hearth, halfcovered with glasses and bottles, sat two men playing hazard. The dicerang sharply as I entered, and he who had just thrown kept the boxover them while he turned, scowling, to see who came in. He was afair-haired, blonde man, large-framed and florid. He had put off hiscuirass and boots, and his doublet showed frayed and stained where thearmour had pressed on it. Otherwise he was in the extreme of last year'sfashion. His deep cravat, folded over so that the laced ends drooped alittle in front, was of the finest; his great sash of blue and silverwas a foot wide. He had a little jewel in one ear, and his tiny beardwas peaked A L'ESPAGNOLE. Probably when he turned he expected to see thesergeant, for at the sight of me he rose slowly, leaving the dice stillcovered.

  'What folly is this?' he cried, wrathfully. Here, sergeant!Sergeant!--without there! What the--! Who are you, sir?'

  'Captain Larolle,' I said uncovering politely, 'I believe?'

  'Yes, I am Captain Larolle,' he retorted. 'But who, in the fiend's name,are you?' You are not the man we are after!'

  'I am not M. Cocheforet,' I said coolly. 'I am merely a guest in thehouse, M. le Capitaine. I have been enjoying Madame de Cocheforet'shospitality for some time, but by an evil chance I was away when youarrived.' And with that I walked to the hearth, and, gently pushingaside his great boots which stood there drying, I kicked the logs into ablaze.

  'MILLE DIABLES!' he whispered. And never did I see a man moreconfounded. But I affected to be taken up with his companion, a sturdy,white-moustachioed old veteran, who sat back in his chair, eyeing mewith swollen cheeks and eyes surcharged with surprise.

  'Good evening, M. le Lieutenant,' I said, bowing gravely. 'It is a finenight.'

  Then the storm burst.

  'Fine night!' the Captain shrieked, finding his voice at last. 'MILLEDIABLES! Are you aware, sir, that I am in possession of this house, andthat no one harbours here without my permission? Guest? Hospitality?Bundle of fiddle-faddle! Lieutenant, call the guard! Call the guard!' hecontinued passionately. 'Where is that ape of a sergeant?'

  The Lieutenant rose to obey, but I lifted my hand.

  'Gently, gently, Captain,' I said. 'Not so fast. You seem surprised tosee me here. Believe me, I am much more surprised to see you.'

  'SACRE!' he cried, recoiling at this fresh impertinence, while theLieutenant's eyes almost jumped out of his head.

  But nothing moved me.

  'Is the door closed?' I said sweetly. 'Thank you; it is, I see. Thenpermit me to say again, gentlemen, that I am much more surprised tosee you than you can be to see me. For when Monseigneur the Cardinalhonoured me by sending me from Paris to conduct this matter, he gave methe fullest--the fullest powers, M. le Capitaine--to see the affair toan end. I was not led to expect that my plans would be spoiled on theeve of success by the intrusion of half the garrison from Auch.'

  'Oh, ho!' the Captain said softly--in a very different tone, and with avery different face. 'So you are the gentleman I heard of at Auch?'

  'Very likely,' I said drily. 'But I am from Paris, not from Auch.'

  'To be sure,' he answered thoughtfully. 'Eh, Lieutenant?'

  'Yes, M. le Capitaine, no doubt,' the inferior replied. And they bothlooked at one another, and then at me, in a way I did not understand.

  'I think,' said I, to clinch the matter, 'that you have made a mistake,Captain; or the Commandant has. And it occurs to me that the Cardinalwill not be best pleased.'

  'I hold the King's commission,' he answered rather stiffly.

  'To be sure,' I replied. 'But, you see, the Cardinal--'

  'Ay, but the Cardinal--' he rejoined quickly; and then he stopped andshrugged his shoulders. And they both looked at me.

  'Well?' I said.

  'The King,' he answered slowly.

  'Tut-tut!' I exclaimed, spreading out my hands. 'The Cardinal. Let usstick to him. You were saying?'

  'Well, the Cardinal, you see--' And then again, after the same words, hestopped--stopped abruptly, and shrugged his shoulders.

  I began to suspect something.

  'If you have anything to say against Monseigneur,' I answered, watchinghim narrowly, 'say it. But take a word of advice. Don't let it go beyondthe door of this room, my friend, and it will do you no harm.'

  'Neither here nor outside,' he retorted, looking for a moment at hiscomrade. 'Only I hold the King's commission. That is all, and, I think,enough.'

  'Well--for the rest, will you throw a main?' he answered evasively.'Good! Lieutenant, find a glass, and the gentleman a seat. And here, formy part, I will give you a toast The Cardinal--whatever betide!'

  I drank it, and sat down to play with him; I had not heard the music ofthe dice for a month, and the temptation was irresistible. But I was notsatisfied. I called the mains and won his crowns--he was a mere baby atthe game--but half my mind was elsewhere. There was something here thatI did not understand; some influence at work on which I had not counted;something moving under the surface as unintelligible to me as thesoldiers' presence. Had the Captain repudiated my commission altogether,and put me to the door or sent me to the guard-house, I could havefollowed that. But these dubious hints, this passive resistance, puzzledme. Had they news from Paris, I wondered? Was the King dead? Or theCardinal ill? I asked them, but they said no, no, no to all, and gave meguarded answers. And midnight found us still playing; and still fencing.