A Gentleman of France
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Stanley Weyman >> A Gentleman of France
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His presence so maddened me that I scarcely knew what I said. I
felt my breath come quickly, I felt the blood surge to my head,
and it was with difficulty I restrained myself when he answered
with well-affected sanctity, 'Like mother, like son, I fear, sir.
Huguenots both.'
I choked with rage. What!' I said, 'you dare to threaten me as
you threatened my mother? Fool! know that only to-day for the
purpose of discovering and punishing you I took the rooms in
which my mother died.'
'I know it,' he answered quietly. And then in a second, as by
magic, he altered his demeanour completely, raising his head and
looking me in the face. 'That, and so much besides, I know,' he
continued, giving me, to my astonishment, frown for frown, 'that
if you will listen to me for a moment, M. de Marsac, and listen
quietly, I will convince you that the folly is not on my side.'
Amazed at his new manner, in which there was none of the madness
that had marked him at our first meeting, but a strange air of
authority, unlike anything I had associated with him before, I
signed to him to proceed.
'You think that I am in your power?' he said, smiling.
'I think,' I retorted swiftly, 'that, escaping me now, you will
have at your heels henceforth a worse enemy than even your own
sins.'
'Just so,' he answered, nodding. 'Well, I am going to show you
that the reverse is the case; and that you are as completely in
my hands, to spare or to break, as this straw. In the first
place, you are here in Blois, a Huguenot!'
'Chut!' I exclaimed contemptuously, affecting a confidence I was
far from feeling. 'A little while back that might have availed
you. But we are in Blois, not Paris. It is not far to the
Loire, and you have to deal with a man now, not with a woman. It
is you who have cause to tremble, not I.'
'You think to be protected,' he answered with a sour smile, 'even
on this side of the Loire, I see. But one word to the Pope's
Legate, or to the Duke of Nevers, and you would see the inside of
a dungeon, if not worse. For the king--'
'King or no king!' I answered, interrupting him with more
assurance than I felt, seeing that I remembered only too well
Henry's remark that Rosny must not look to him for protection, 'I
fear you not a whit! And that reminds me. I have heard you talk
treason--rank, black treason, priest, as ever sent man to rope,
and I will give you up. By heaven I will!' I cried, my rage
increasing, as I discerned, more and more clearly, the dangerous
hold he had over me. 'You have threatened me! One word, and I
will send you to the gallows!'
'Sh!' he answered, indicating M. Francois by, a gesture of the
hand. 'For your own sake, not mine. This is fine talking, but
you have not yet heard all I know. Would you like to hear how
you have spent the last month? Two days after Christmas, M. de
Marsac, you left Chize with a young lady--I can give you her
name, if you please. Four days afterwards you reached Blois, and
took her to your mother's lodging. Next morning she left you for
M. de Bruhl. Two days later you tracked her to a house in the
Ruelle d'Arcy, and freed her, but lost her in the moment of
victory. Then you stayed in Blois until your mother's death,
going a day or two later to M. de Rosny's house by Mantes, where
mademoiselle still is. Yesterday you arrived in Blois with M. de
Rosny ; you went to his lodging; you--'
'Proceed, I muttered, leaning forward. Under cover of my cloak I
drew my dagger half-way from its sheath. 'Proceed, sir, I pray,'
I repeated with dry lips.
'You slept there,' he continued, holding his ground, but
shuddering slightly, either from cold or because he perceived my
movement and read my design in my eyes.
'This morning you remained here in attendance on M. de
Rambouillet.'
For the moment I breathed freely again, perceiving that though he
knew much, the one thing on which M. de Rosny's design turned had
escaped him. The secret interview with the king, which
compromised alike Henry himself and M. de Rambouillet, had
apparently passed unnoticed and unsuspected. With a sigh of
intense relief I slid back the dagger, which I had fully made up
my mind to use had he known all, and drew my cloak round me with
a shrug of feigned indifference. I sweated to think what he did
know, but our interview with the king having escaped him, I
breathed again.
'Well, sir,' I said curtly, 'I have listened. And now, what is
the purpose of all this?'
'My purpose?' he answered, his eyes glittering. 'To show you
that you are in my power. You are the agent of M. de Rosny. I,
the agent, however humble, of the Holy Catholic League. Of your
movements I know all. What do you know of mine?'
'Knowledge,' I made grim answer, 'is not everything, sir priest.'
'It is more than it was,' he said, smiling his thin-lipped smile.
'It is going to be more than it is. And I know much--about you,
M. de Marsac.'
'You know too much!' I retorted, feeling his covert threats
close round me like the folds of some great serpent. 'But you
are imprudent, I think. Will you tell me what is to prevent me
striking you through where you stand, and ridding myself at a
blow of so much knowledge?'
'The presence of three men, M. de Marsac,' he answered lightly,
waving his hand towards M. Francois and the others, 'every one of
whom would give you up to justice. You forget that you are north
of the Loire, and that priests are not to be massacred here with
impunity, as in your lawless south-country. However, enough.
The night is cold, and M. d'Agen grows suspicious as well as
impatient. We have, perhaps, spoken too long already. Permit me
--he bowed and drew back a step--'to resume this discussion to-
morrow.'
Despite his politeness and the hollow civility with which he thus
sought; to close the interview, the light of triumph which shone
in his eyes, as the glare of the torch fell athwart them, no less
than the assured tone of his voice, told me clearly that he knew
his power. He seemed, indeed, transformed: no longer a
slinking, peaceful clerk, preying on a woman's fears, but a bold
and crafty schemer, skilled and unscrupulous, possessed of hidden
knowledge and hidden resources; the personification of evil
intellect. For a moment, knowing all I knew, and particularly
the responsibilities which lay before me, and the interests
committed to my hands, I quailed, confessing myself unequal to
him. I forgot the righteous vengeance I owed him; I cried out
helplessly against the ill-fortune which had brought him across
my path. I saw myself enmeshed and fettered beyond hope of
escape, and by an effort only controlled the despair I felt.
'To-morrow?' I muttered hoarsely. 'At what time?'
He shook his head with a cunning smile. 'A thousand thanks, but
I will settle that myself!' he answered. 'Au revoir!' and
uttering a word of leave-taking to M. Francois d'Agen, he blessed
the two servants, and went out into the night.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE OFFER OF THE LEAGUE.
When the last sound of his footsteps died away, I awoke as from
an evil dream, and becoming conscious of the presence of M.
Francois and the servants, recollected mechanically that I owed
the former an apology for my discourtesy in keeping him standing
in the cold. I began to offer it; but my distress and confusion
of mind were such that in the middle of a set phrase I broke off,
and stood looking fixedly at him, my trouble so plain that he
asked me civilly if anything ailed me.
'No,' I answered, turning from him impatiently; 'nothing,
nothing, sir. Or tell me,' I continued, with an abrupt change of
mind, 'who is that; who has just left us?'
'Father Antoine, do you mean?'
'Ay, Father Antoine, Father Judas, call him what you like,' I
rejoined bitterly.
'Then if you leave the choice to me,' M. Francois answered with
grave politeness, 'I would rather call him something more
pleasant, M. de Marsac--James or John, let us say. For there is
little said here which does not come back to him. If walls have
ears, the walls of Blois are in his pay. But I thought you knew
him,' he continued. 'He is secretary, confidant, chaplain, what
you will, to Cardinal Retz, and one of those whom--in your ear--
greater men court and more powerful men lean on. If I had to
choose between them, I would rather cross M. de Crillon.'
'I am obliged to you,' I muttered, checked as much by his manner
as his words.
'Not at all,' he answered more lightly. 'Any information I have
is at your disposal.'
However, I saw the imprudence of venturing farther, and hastened
to take leave of him, persuading him to allow one of M. de
Rambouillet's servants to accompany him home. He said that he
should call on me in the morning; and forcing myself to answer
him in a suitable manner, I saw him depart one way, and myself,
accompanied by Simon Fleix, went off another. My feet were
frozen with long standing--I think the corpse we left was scarce
colder--but my head was hot with feverish doubts and fears. The
moon had sunk and the streets were dark. Our torch had burned
out, and we had no light. But where my followers saw only
blackness and vacancy, I saw an evil smile and a lean visage
fraught with menace and exultation.
For the more closely I directed my mind to the position in which
I stood, the graver it seemed. Pitted against Bruhl alone, amid
strange surroundings and in an atmosphere of Court intrigue, I
had thought my task sufficiently difficult and the disadvantages
under which I laboured sufficiently serious before this
interview. Conscious of a certain rustiness and a distaste for
finesse, with resources so inferior to Bruhl's that even M. de
Rosny's liberality had not done much to make up the difference, I
had accepted the post offered me rather readily than sanguinely;
with joy, seeing that it held out the hope of high reward, but
with no certain expectation of success. Still, matched with a
man of violent and headstrong character, I had seen no reason to
despair; nor any why I might not arrange the secret meeting
between the king and mademoiselle with safety, and conduct to its
end an intrigue simple and unsuspected, and requiring for its
execution rather courage and caution than address or experience.
Now, however, I found that Bruhl was not my only or my most
dangerous antagonist. Another was in the field--or, to speak
more correctly, was waiting outside the arena, ready to snatch
the prize when we should have disabled one another, From a dream
of Bruhl and myself as engaged in a competition for the king's
favour, wherein neither could expose the other nor appeal even in
the last resort to the joint-enemies of his Majesty and
ourselves, I awoke to a very different state of things; I awoke
to find those enemies the masters of the situation, possessed of
the clue to our plans, and permitting them only as long as they
seemed to threaten no serious peril to themselves.
No discovery could be more mortifying or more fraught with
terror. The perspiration stood on my brow as I recalled the
warning which M. de Rosny had uttered against Cardinal Retz, or
noted down the various points of knowledge which were in Father
Antoine's possession. He knew every event of the last month,
with one exception, and could tell, I verily believed, how many
crowns I had in my pouch. Conceding this, and the secret sources
of information he must possess, what hope had I of keeping my
future movements from him? Mademoiselle's arrival would be known
to him before she had well passed the gates; nor was it likely,
or even possible, that I should again succeed in reaching the
king's presence untraced and unsuspected. In fine, I saw myself,
equally with Bruhl, a puppet in this man's hands, my goings out
and my comings in watched and reported to him, his mercy the only
bar between myself and destruction. At any moment I might be
arrested as a Huguenot, the enterprise in which I was engaged
ruined, and Mademoiselle de la Vire exposed to the violence of
Bruhl or the equally dangerous intrigues of the League.
Under these circumstances I fancied sleep impossible; but habit
and weariness are strong persuaders, and when I reached my
lodging I slept long and soundly, as became a man who had looked
danger in the face more than once. The morning light too brought
an accession both of courage and hope. I reflected on the misery
of my condition at St. Jean d'Angely, without friends or
resources, and driven to herd with such a man as Fresnoy. And
telling myself that the gold crowns which M. de Rosny had
lavished upon me were not for nothing, nor the more precious
friendship with which he had honoured me a gift that called for
no return, I rose with new spirit and a countenance which threw
Simon Fleix who had seen me lie down the picture of despair--
into the utmost astonishment.
'You have had good dreams,' he said, eyeing me jealously and with
a disturbed air.
'I had a very evil one last night,' I answered lightly, wondering
a little why he looked at me so, and why he seemed to resent my
return to hopefulness and courage. I might have followed this
train of thought further with advantage, since I possessed a clue
to his state of mind; but at that moment a summons at the door
called him away to it, and he presently ushered in M. d'Agen,
who, saluting me with punctilious politeness, had not said fifty
words before he introduced the subject of his toe--no longer,
however, in a hostile spirit, but as the happy medium which had
led him to recognise the worth and sterling qualities--so he was
pleased to say--of his preserver.
I was delighted to find him in this frame of mind, and told him
frankly that the friendship with which his kinsman, M. de
Rambouillet, honoured me would prevent me giving him satisfaction
save in the last resort. He replied that the service I had done
him was such as to render this immaterial, unless I had myself
cause of offence; which I was forward to deny.
We were paying one another compliments after this fashion, while
I regarded him with the interest which the middle-aged bestow on
the young and gallant in whom they see their own youth and hopes
mirrored, when the door was again opened, and after a moment's
pause admitted, equally, I think, to the disgust of M. Francois,
and myself, the form of Father Antoine.
Seldom have two men more diverse stood, I believe, in a room
together; seldom has any greater contrast been presented to a
man's eyes than that opened to mine on this occasion. On the one
side the gay young spark, with his short cloak, his fine suit; of
black-and-silver, his trim limbs and jewelled hilt and chased
comfit-box; on the other, the tall, stooping monk, lean-jawed and
bright-eyed, whose gown hung about him in coarse, ungainly folds.
And M. Francois' sentiment on first seeing the other was
certainly dislike. Is spite of this, however, he bestowed a
greeting on the new-comer which evidenced a secret awe, and in
other ways showed so plain a desire to please, that I felt my
fears of the priest return in force. I reflected that the
talents which in such a garb could win the respect of M. Francois
d'Agen--a brilliant star among the younger courtiers, and one of
a class much given to thinking scorn of their fathers' roughness
--must be both great and formidable; and, so considering, I
received the monk with a distant courtesy which I had once little
thought to extend to him. I put aside for the moment the private
grudge I bore him with so much justice, and remembered only the
burden which lay on me in my contest with him.
I conjectured without difficulty that he chose to come at this
time, when M. Francois was with me, out of a cunning regard to
his own safety; and I was not surprised when M. Francois,
beginning to make his adieux, Father Antoine begged him to wait
below, adding that he had something of importance to communicate.
He advanced his request in terms of politeness bordering on
humility; but I could clearly see that, in assenting to it, M.
d'Agen bowed to a will stronger than his own, and would, had he
dared to follow his own bent, have given a very different answer.
As it was he retired--nominally to give an order to his lackey--
with a species of impatient self-restraint which it was not
difficult to construe.
Left alone with me, and assured that we had no listeners, the
monk was not slow in coming to the point.
'You have thought over what I told you last night?' he said
brusquely, dropping in a moment the suave manner which he had
maintained in M. Francois's presence.
I replied coldly that I had.
'And you understand the position?' he continued quickly, looking
at me from under his brows as he stood before me, with one
clenched fist on the table. 'Or shall I tell you more? Shall I
tell you how poor and despised you were some weeks ago, M. de
Marsac--you who now go in velvet, and have three men at your
back? Or whose gold it is has brought you here, and made you,
this? Chut! Do not let us trifle. You are here as the secret
agent of the King of Navarre. It is my business to learn your
plans and his intentions, and I propose to do so.'
'Well?' I said.
'I am prepared to buy them,' he answered; and his eyes sparkled
as he spoke, with a greed which set me yet more on my guard.
'For whom?' I asked. Having made up my mind that I must use the
same weapons as my adversary, I reflected that to express
indignation, such as might become a young man new to the world,
could, help me not a whit. 'For whom?' I repeated, seeing that
he hesitated.
'That is my business,' he replied slowly.
'You want to know too much and tell too little,' I retorted,
yawning.
'And you are playing with me,' he cried, looking at me suddenly,
with so piercing a gaze and so dark a countenance that I checked
a shudder with difficulty. 'So much the worse for you, so much
the worse for you!' he continued fiercely. 'I am here to buy
the information you hold, but if you will not sell, there is
another way. At an hour's notice I can ruin your plans, and send
you to a dungeon! You are like a fish caught in a net not yet
drawn. It thrusts its nose this way and that, and touches the
mesh, but is slow to take the alarm until the net is drawn--and
then it is too late. So it is with you, and so it is,' he added,
falling into the ecstatic mood which marked him at times, and
left me in doubt whether he were all knave or in part enthusiast,
'with all those who set themselves against St. Peter and his
Church!'
'I have heard you say much the same of the King of France,' I
said derisively.
'You trust in him?' he retorted, his eyes gleaming. 'You have
been up there, and seen his crowded chamber, and counted his
forty-five gentlemen and his grey-coated Swiss? I tell you the
splendour you saw was a dream, and will vanish as a dream. The
man's strength and his glory shall go from him, and that soon.
Have you no eyes to see that he is beside the question? There
are but two powers in France--the Holy Union, which still
prevails, and the accursed Huguenot; and between them is the
battle.'
'Now you are telling me more,' I said.
He grew sober in a moment, looking at me with a vicious anger
hard to describe.
'Tut tut,' he said, showing his yellow teeth, 'the dead tell no
tales. And for Henry of Valois, he so loves a monk that you
might better accuse his mistress. But for you, I have only to
cry "Ho! a Huguenot and a spy!" and though he loved you more
than he loved Quelus or Maugiron, he dare not stretch out a
finger to save you!'
I knew that he spoke the truth, and with difficulty maintained
the air of indifference with which I had entered on the
interview.
'But what if I leave Blois?' I ventured, merely to see what he
would say.
He laughed. 'You cannot,' he answered. 'The net is round you,
M. de Marsac, and there are those at every gate who know you and
have their instructions. I can destroy you, but I would fain
have your information, and for that I will pay you five hundred
crowns and let you go.'
'To fall into the hands of the King of Navarre?'
'He will disown you, in any case,' he answered eagerly. 'He had
that in his mind, my friend, when he selected an agent so
obscure. He will disown you. Ah, mon Dieu! had I been an hour
quicker I had caught Rosny--Rosny himself!'
'There is one thing lacking still,' I replied. 'How am I to be
sure that, when I have told you what I know, you will pay me the
money or let me go?'
'I will swear to it!' he answered earnestly, deceived into
thinking I was about to surrender. 'I will give you my oath, M.
de Marsac!'
'I would as soon have your shoe-lace!' I exclaimed, the
indignation I could not entirely repress finding vent in that
phrase. 'A Churchman's vow is worth a candle--or a candle and a
half, is it?' I continued ironically. 'I must have some
security a great deal more substantial than that, father.'
'What?' he asked, looking at me gloomily.
Seeing an opening, I cudgelled my brains to think of any
condition which, being fulfilled, might turn the table on him and
place him in my power. But his position was so strong, or my
wits so weak, that nothing occurred to me at the time, and I sat
looking at, him, my mind gradually passing from the possibility
of escape to the actual danger in which I stood, and which
encompassed also Simon Fleix, and, in a degree, doubtless, M. de
Rambouillet. In four or five days, too, Mademoiselle de la Vire
would arrive. I wondered if I could send any warning to her; and
then, again, I doubted the wisdom of interfering with M. de
Rosny's plans, the more as Maignan, who had gone to fetch
mademoiselle, was of a kind to disregard any orders save his
master's.
'Well!' said the monk, impatiently recalling me to myself, 'what
security do you want?'
'I am not quite sure at this moment,' I made answer slowly. 'I
am in a difficult position. I must have some time to consider.'
'And to rid yourself of me, if it be possible,' he said with
irony. 'I quite understand. But I warn you that you are
watched; and that wherever you go and whatever you do, eyes which
are mine are upon you.'
'I, too, understand,' I said coolly.
He stood awhile uncertain, regarding me with mingled doubt and
malevolence, tortured on the one hand by fear of losing the prize
if he granted delay, on the other of failing as utterly if he
exerted his power and did not succeed in subduing my resolution.
I watched him, too, and gauging his eagerness and the value of
the stake for which he was striving by the strength of his
emotions, drew small comfort from the sight. More than once it
had occurred to me, and now it occurred to me again, to extricate
myself by a blow. But a natural reluctance to strike an unarmed
man, however vile and knavish, and the belief that he had not
trusted himself in my power without taking the fullest
precautions, withheld me. When he grudgingly, and with many dark
threats, proposed to wait three days--and not an hour more--for
my answer, I accepted; for I saw no other alternative open. And
on these terms, but not without some short discussion, we parted,
and I heard his stealthy footstep go sneaking down the stairs.
CHAPTER XIX.
MEN CALL IT CHANCE.
If I were telling more than the truth, or had it in my mind to
embellish my adventures, I could, doubtless, by the exercise of a
little ingenuity make it appear that I owed my escape from Father
Antoine's meshes to my own craft; and tell, in fine, as pretty a
story of plots and counterplots as M. de Brantome has ever woven.
Having no desire, however, to magnify myself and, at this time of
day, scarcely any reason, I am fain to confess that the reverse
was the case; and that while no man ever did less to free himself
than I did, my adversary retained his grasp to the end, and had
surely, but for a strange interposition, effected my ruin. How
relief came, and from what quarter, I might defy the most
ingenious person, after reading my memoirs to this point, to say;
and this not so much by reason of any subtle device, as because
the hand of Providence was for once directly manifest.
The three days of grace which the priest had granted I passed in
anxious but futile search for some means of escape, every plan I
conceived dying stillborn, and not the least of my miseries lying
in the fact that I could discern no better course than still to
sit and think, and seemed doomed to perpetual inaction. M. de
Rambouillet being a strict Catholic, though in all other respects
a patriotic man, I knew better than to have recourse to him; and
the priest's influence over M. d'Agen I had myself witnessed.
For similar reasons I rejected the idea of applying to the king;
and this exhausting the list of those on whom I had any claim, I
found myself thrown on my own resources, which seemed limited--my
wits failing me at this pinch--to my sword and Simon Fleix.
Assured that I must break out of Blois if I would save not myself
only, but others more precious because entrusted to my charge, I
thought it no disgrace to appeal to Simon; describing in a lively
fashion the danger which threatened us, and inciting the lad by
every argument which I thought likely to have weight with him to
devise some way of escape.
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