A Gentleman of France

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To get these together at a few hours' notice promised to be no
easy task; although the presence of the Court of Navarre had
filled St. Jean with a crowd of adventurers. Yet the king's
command was urgent, and at some sacrifice, even at some risk,
must be obeyed. Pressed by these considerations, I could think
of no better man to begin with than Fresnoy.

His character was bad, and he had long forfeited such claim as he
had ever possessed--I believe it was a misty one, on the distaff
side--to gentility. But the same cause which had rendered me
destitute I mean the death of the prince of Conde--had stripped
him to the last rag; and this, perhaps, inclining me to serve
him, I was the more quick to see his merits. I knew him already
for a hardy, reckless man, very capable of striking a shrewd
blow. I gave him credit for being trusty, as long as his duty
jumped with his interest.

Accordingly, as soon as it was light, having fed and groomed the
Cid, which was always the first employment of my day, I set out
in search of Fresnoy, and was presently lucky enough to find him
taking his morning draught outside the 'Three Pigeons,' a little
inn not far from the north gate. It was more than a fortnight
since I had set eyes on him, and the lapse of time had worked so
great a change for the worse in him that, forgetting my own
shabbiness, I looked at him askance, as doubting the wisdom of
enlisting one who bore so plainly the marks of poverty and
dissipation. His great face--he was a large man--had suffered
recent ill-usage, and was swollen and discoloured, one eye being
as good as closed. He was unshaven, his hair was ill-kempt, his
doublet unfastened at the throat, and torn and stained besides.
Despite the cold--for the morning was sharp and frosty, though
free from wind--there were half a dozen packmen drinking and
squabbling before the inn, while the beasts they drove quenched
their thirst at the trough. But these men seemed with one accord
to leave him in possession of the bench at which he sat; nor did
I wonder much at this when I saw the morose and savage glance
which he shot at me as I approached. Whether he read my first
impressions in my face, or for some other reason felt distaste
for my company, I could not determine. But, undeterred by his
behaviour, I sat down beside him and called for wine.

He nodded sulkily in answer to my greeting, and cast a half-
shamed, half-angry look at me out of the corners of his eyes.
'You need not look at me as though I were a dog,' he muttered
presently. 'You are not so very spruce yourself, my friend. But
I suppose you have grown proud since you got that fat appointment
at Court!' And he laughed out loud, so that I confess I was in
two minds whether I should not force the jest down his ugly
throat.

However I restrained myself, though my cheeks burned. 'You have
heard about it, then,' I said, striving to speak indifferently.

'Who has not?' he said, laughing with his lips, though his eyes
were far from merry. 'The Sieur de Marsac's appointment! Ha!
ha! Why, man--'

'Enough of it now!' I exclaimed. And I dare say I writhed on my
seat. 'As far as I am concerned the jest is a stale one, sir,
and does not amuse me.'

'But it amuses me,' he rejoined with a grin.

'Let it be, nevertheless,' I said; and I think he read a warning
in my eyes. 'I have come to speak to you upon another matter.'

He did not refuse to listen, but threw one leg over the other,
and looking up at the inn-sign began to whistle in a rude,
offensive manner. Still, having an object in view, I controlled
myself and continued. 'It is this, my friend: money is not very
plentiful at present with either of us.'

Before I could say any more he turned on me savagely, and with a
loud oath thrust his bloated face, flushed with passion, close to
mine. 'Now look here, M. de Marsac!' he cried violently, 'once
for all, it is no good! I have not got the money, and I cannot
pay it. I said a fortnight ago, when you lent it, that you
should have it this week. Well,' slapping his hand on the bench,
I have not got it, and it is no good beginning upon me. You
cannot have it, and that is flat!'

'Damn the money!' I cried.

'What?' he exclaimed, scarcely believing his ears.

'Let the money be!' I repeated fiercely. 'Do you hear? I have
not come about it, I am here to offer you work--good, well-paid
work--if you will enlist with me and play me fair, Fresnoy.'

'Play fair!' he cried with an oath.

'There, there,' I said, 'I am willing to let bygones be bygones
if you are. The point is, that I have an adventure on hand, and,
wanting help, can pay you for it.'

He looked at me cunningly, His eye travelling over each rent and
darn in my doublet. 'I will help you fast enough,' he said at
last. 'But I should like to see the money first.'

'You shall,' I answered.

'Then I am with you, my friend. Count on me till death!' he
cried, rising and laying his hand in mine with a boisterous
frankness which did not deceive me into trusting him far. 'And
now, whose is the affair, and what is it?'

'The affair is mine,' I said coldly. 'It is to carry off a
lady.'

He whistled and looked me over again, an impudent leer in his
eyes. 'A lady?' he exclaimed. 'Umph! I could understand a
young spark going in for such--but that's your affair. Who is
it?'

'That is my affair, too,' I answered coolly, disgusted by the
man's venality and meanness, and fully persuaded that I must
trust him no farther than the length of my sword. 'All I want
you to do, M. Fresnoy,' I continued stiffly, 'is to place
yourself at my disposal and under my orders for ten days. I will
find you a horse and pay you--the enterprise is a hazardous one,
and I take that into account--two gold crowns a day, and ten more
if we succeed in reaching a place of safety.'

'Such a place as--'

'Never mind that,' I replied. 'The question is, do you accept?'

He looked down sullenly, and I could see he was greatly angered
by my determination to keep the matter to myself. 'Am I to know
no more than that?' he asked, digging the point of his scabbard
again and again into the ground.

'No more,' I answered firmly. 'I am bent on a desperate attempt
to mend my fortunes before they fall as low as yours; and that is
as much as I mean to tell living man. If you are loth to risk
your life with your eyes shut, say so, and I will go to someone
else.'

But he was not in a position, as I well knew, to refuse such an
offer, and presently he accepted it with a fresh semblance of
heartiness. I told him I should want four troopers to escort us,
and these he offered to procure, saying that he knew just the
knaves to suit me. I bade him hire two only, however, being too
wise, to put myself altogether in his hands; and then, having
given him money to buy himself a horse--I made it a term that the
men should bring their own--and named a rendezvous for the first
hour after noon, I parted from him and went rather sadly away.

For I began to see that the king had not underrated the dangers
of an enterprise on which none but desperate men and such as were
down in the world could be expected to embark. Seeing this, and
also a thing which followed clearly from it--that I should have
as much to fear from my own company as from the enemy--I looked
forward with little hope to a journey during every day and every
hour of which I must bear a growing weight of fear and
responsibility.

It was too late to turn back, however, and I went about my
preparations, if with little cheerfulness, at least with
steadfast purpose. I had my sword ground and my pistols put in
order by the cutler over whom I lodged, and who performed this
last office for me with the same goodwill which had
characterised, all his dealings with me. I sought out and hired
a couple of stout fellows whom I believed to be indifferently
honest, but who possessed the advantage of having horses; and
besides bought two led horses myself for mademoiselle and her
woman. Such other equipments as were absolutely necessary I
purchased, reducing my stock of money in this way to two hundred
and ten crowns. How to dispose of this sum so that it might be
safe and yet at my command was a question which greatly exercised
me. In the end I had recourse to my friend the cutler, who
suggested hiding a hundred crowns of it in my cap, and deftly
contrived a place for the purpose. This, the cap being lined
with steel, was a matter of no great difficulty. A second
hundred I sewed up in the stuffing of my saddle, placing the
remainder in my pouch for present necessities.

A small rain was falling in the streets when, a little after
noon, I started with my two knaves behind me and made for the
north gate. So many were moving this way and the other that we
passed unnoticed, and might have done so had we numbered six
swords instead of three. When we reached the rendezvous, a mile
beyond the gate, we found Fresnoy already there, taking shelter
in the lee of a big holly-tree. He had four horsemen with him,
and on our appearance rode forward to meet us, crying heartily,
'Welcome, M. le Capitaine!'

'Welcome, certainly,' I answered, pulling the Cid up sharply, and
holding off from him. 'But who are these, M. Fresnoy?' and I
pointed with my riding-cane to his four companions.

He tried to pass the matter off with a laugh. 'Oh! these?' he
said. 'That is soon explained. The Evangelists would not be
divided, so I brought them all--Matthew Mark, Luke, and John--
thinking it likely you might fail to secure your men. And I will
warrant them for four as gallant boys as you will ever find
behind you!'

They were certainly four as arrant ruffians as I had ever seen
before me, and I saw I must not hesitate. 'Two or none, M.
Fresnoy,' I said firmly. 'I gave you a commission for two, and
two I will take--Matthew and Mark, or Luke and John, as you
please.'

''Tis a pity to break the party,' said he, scowling.

'If that be all,' I retorted, 'one of my men is called John. And
we will dub the other Luke, if that will mend the matter.'

'The Prince of Conde,' he muttered sullenly, 'employed these
men.'

'The Prince of Conde employed some queer people sometimes, M.
Fresnoy,' I answered, looking him straight between the eyes, 'as
we all must. A truce to this, if you please. We will take
Matthew and Mark. The other two be good enough to dismiss.'

He seemed to waver for a moment, as if he had a mind to disobey,
but in the end, thinking better of it, he bade the men return;
and as I complimented each of them with a piece of silver, they
went off, after some swearing, in tolerably good humour. Thereon
Fresnoy was for taking the road at once, but having no mind to be
followed, I gave the word to wait until the two were out of
sight.

I think, as we sat our horses in the rain, the holly-bush not
being large enough to shelter us all, we were as sorry a band as
ever set out to rescue a lady; nor was it without pain that I
looked round and saw myself reduced to command such people.
There was scarcely one whole unpatched garment among us, and
three of my squires had but a spur apiece. To make up for this
deficiency we mustered two black eyes, Fresnoy's included, and a
broken nose. Matthew's nag lacked a tail, and, more remarkable
still, its rider, as I presently discovered, was stone-deaf;
while Mark's sword was innocent of a scabbard, and his bridle was
plain rope. One thing, indeed, I observed with pleasure. The
two men who had come with me looked askance at the two who had
come with Fresnoy, and these returned the stare with interest.
On this division and on the length of my sword I based all my
hopes of safety and of something more. On it I was about to
stake, not my own life only--which was no great thing, seeing
what my prospects were--but the life and honour of a woman,
young, helpless, and as yet unknown to me.

Weighed down as I was by these considerations, I had to bear the
additional burden of hiding my fears and suspicions under a
cheerful demeanour. I made a short speech to my following, who
one and all responded by swearing to stand by me to the death. I
then gave the word, and we started, Fresnoy and I leading the
way, Luke and John with the led horses following, and the other
two bringing up the rear.

The rain continuing to fall and the country in this part being
dreary and monotonous, even in fair weather, I felt my spirits
sink still lower as the day advanced. The responsibility I was
going to incur assumed more serious proportions each time I
scanned my following; while Fresnoy, plying me with perpetual
questions respecting my plans, was as uneasy a companion as my
worst enemy could have wished me.

'Come!' he grumbled presently, when we had covered four leagues
or so, 'you have not told me yet, sieur, where we stay to-night.
You are travelling so slowly that--'

'I am saving the horses,' I answered shortly. 'We shall do a
long day to-morrow.'

'Yours looks fit for a week of days,' he sneered, with an evil
look at my Sardinian, which was, indeed, in better case than its
master. 'It is sleek enough, any way!'

'It is as good as it looks,' I answered, a little nettled by his
tone.

'There is a better here,' he responded.

'I don't see it,' I said. I had already eyed the nags all round,
and assured myself that, ugly and blemished as they were, they
were up to their work. But I had discerned no special merit
among them. I looked them over again now, and came to the same
conclusion--that, except the led horses, which I had chosen with
some care, there was nothing among them to vie with the Cid,
either in speed or looks. I told Fresnoy so.

'Would you like to try?' he said tauntingly.

I laughed, adding, 'If you think I am going to tire our horses by
racing them, with such work as we have before us, you are
mistaken, Fresnoy. I am not a boy, you know.'

'There need be no question of racing,' he answered more quietly.
'You have only to get on that rat-tailed bay of Matthew's to feel
its paces and say I am right.'

I looked at the bay, a bald-faced, fiddle-headed horse, and saw
that, with no signs of breeding, it was still a big-boned animal
with good shoulders and powerful hips. I thought it possible
Fresnoy might be right, and if so, and the bay's manners were
tolerable, it might do for mademoiselle better than the horse I
had chosen. At any rate, if we had a fast horse among us, it was
well to know the fact, so bidding Matthew change with me, and be
careful of the Cid, I mounted the bay, and soon discovered that
its paces were easy and promised speed, while its manners seemed
as good as even a timid rider could desire.

Our road at the time lay across a flat desolate heath, dotted
here and there with, thorn-bushes; the track being broken and
stony, extended more than a score of yards in width, through
travellers straying to this side and that to escape the worst
places. Fresnoy and I, in making the change, had fallen slightly
behind the other three, and were riding abreast of Matthew on the
Cid.

'Well,' he said, 'was I not right?'

'In part,' I answered. 'The horse is better than its looks.'

'Like many others,' he rejoined, a spark of resentment in his
tone--'men as well as horses, M. de Marsac. But What do you say?
Shall we canter on a little and overtake the others?'

Thinking it well to do so, I assented readily, and we started
together. We had ridden, however, no more than a hundred yards,
and I was only beginning to extend the bay, when Fresnoy,
slightly drawing rein, turned in his saddle and looked back. The
next moment he cried, 'Hallo! what is this? Those fellows are
not following us, are they?'

I turned sharply to look. At that moment, without falter or
warning, the bay horse went down under me as if shot dead,
throwing me half a dozen yards over its head; and that so
suddenly that I had no time to raise my arms, but, falling
heavily on my head and shoulder, lost consciousness.

I have had many falls, but no other to vie with that in utter
unexpectedness. When I recovered my senses I found myself
leaning, giddy and sick, against the bole of an old thorn-tree.
Fresnoy and Matthew supported me on either side, and asked me how
I found myself; while the other three men, their forms black
against the stormy evening sky, sat their horses a few paces in
front of me. I was too much dazed at first to see more, and this
only in a mechanical fashion; but gradually, my brain grew
clearer, and I advanced from wondering who the strangers round me
were to recognising them, and finally to remembering what had
happened to me.

'Is the horse hurt?' I muttered as soon as I could speak.

'Not a whit,' Fresnoy answered, chuckling, or I was much
mistaken. 'I am afraid you came off the worse of the two,
captain.'

He exchanged a look with the men on horseback as he spoke, and in
a dull fashion I fancied I saw them smile. One even laughed, and
another turned in his saddle as if to hide his face. I had a
vague general sense that there was some joke on foot in which I
had no part. But I was too much shaken at the moment to be
curious, and gratefully accepted the offer of one, of the men to
fetch me a little water. While he was away the rest stood round
me, the same look of ill-concealed drollery on their faces.
Fresnoy alone talked, speaking volubly of the accident, pouring
out expressions of sympathy and cursing the road, the horse, and
the wintry light until the water came; when, much refreshed by
the draught, I managed to climb to the Cid's saddle and plod
slowly onwards with them.

'A bad beginning,' Fresnoy said presently, stealing a sly glance
at me as we jogged along side by side, Chize half a league before
us, and darkness not far off.

By this time, however, I was myself again, save for a little
humming is the head, and, shrugging my shoulders, I told him so.
'All's well that ends well,' I added. 'Not that it was a
pleasant fall, or that I wish to have such another.'

'No, I should think not,' he answered. His face was turned from
me, but I fancied I heard him snigger.

Something, which may have been a vague suspicion, led me a moment
later to put my hand into my pouch. Then I understood. I
understood too well. The sharp surprise of the discovery was
such that involuntarily I drove my spurs into the Cid, and the
horse sprang forward.

'What is the matter?' Fresnoy asked.

'The matter?' I echoed, my hand still at my belt, feeling
--feeling hopelessly.

'Yes, what is it?' he asked, a brazen smile on his rascally
face.

I looked at him, my brow as red as fire. 'Oh! nothing
--nothing,' I said. 'Let us trot on.'

In truth I had discovered that, taking advantage of my
helplessness, the scoundrels had robbed me, while I lay
insensible, of every gold crown in my purse! Nor was this all,
or the worst, for I saw at once that in doing so they had
effected something which was a thousandfold more ominous and
formidable--established against me that secret understanding
which it was my especial aim to prevent, and on the absence of
which I had been counting. Nay, I saw that for my very life I
had only my friend the cutler and my own prudence to thank,
seeing that these rogues would certainly have murdered me without
scruple had they succeeded in finding the bulk of my money.
Baffled in this, while still persuaded that I had other
resources, they had stopped short of that villany--or this memoir
had never been written. They had kindly permitted me to live
until a more favourable opportunity of enriching themselves at my
expense should put them in possession of my last crown!

Though I was sufficiently master of myself to refrain from
complaints which I felt must be useless, and from menaces which
it has never been my habit to utter unless I had also the power
to put them into execution, it must not be imagined that I did
not, as I rode on by Fresnoy's side, feel my position acutely or
see how absurd a figure I cut in my dual character of leader and
dupe. Indeed, the reflection that, being in this perilous
position, I was about to stake another's safety as well as my
own, made me feel the need of a few minutes' thought so urgent
that I determined to gain them, even at the risk of leaving my
men at liberty to plot further mischief. Coming almost
immediately afterwards within sight, of the turrets of the
Chateau of Chize, I told Fresnoy that we should lie the night at
the village; and bade him take the men on and secure quarters at
the inn. Attacked instantly by suspicion and curiosity, he
demurred stoutly to leaving me, and might have persisted in his
refusal had I not pulled up, and clearly shown him that I would
have my own way in this case or come to an open breach. He
shrank, as I expected, from the latter alternative, and, bidding
me a sullen adieu, trotted on with his troop. I waited until
they were out of sight, and then, turning the Cid's head, crossed
a small brook which divided the road from the chase, and choosing
a ride which seemed to pierce the wood in the direction of the
Chateau, proceeded down it, keeping a sharp look-out on either
hand.

It was then, my thoughts turning to the lady who was now so near,
and who, noble, rich, and a stranger, seemed, as I approached
her, not the least formidable of the embarrassments before me--it
was then that I made a discovery which sent a cold shiver through
my frame, and in a moment swept all memory of my paltry ten
crowns from my head. Ten crowns! Alas! I had lost that which
was worth all my crowns put together--the broken coin which the
King of Navarre had entrusted to me, and which formed my sole
credential, my only means of persuading Mademoiselle de la Vire
that I came from him. I had put it in my pouch, and of course,
though the loss of it only came home to my mind now, it had
disappeared with the rest.

I drew rein and sat for some time motionless, the image of
despair. The wind which stirred the naked boughs overhead, and
whirled the dead leaves in volleys past my feet, and died away at
last among the whispering bracken, met nowhere with wretchedness
greater, I believe, than was mine at that moment.

CHAPTER IV.

MADEMOISELLE DE LA VIRE.

My first desperate impulse on discovering the magnitude of my
loss was to ride after the knaves and demand the token at the
sword's point. The certainty, however, of finding them united,
and the difficulty of saying which of the five possessed what I
wanted, led me to reject this plan as I grew cooler; and since I
did not dream, even in this dilemma, of abandoning the expedition
the only alternative seemed to be to act as if I still had the
broken coin, and essay what a frank explanation might effect when
the time came.

After some wretched, very wretched, moments of debate, I resolved
to adopt this course; and, for the present, thinking I might gain
some knowledge of the surroundings while the light lasted, I
pushed cautiously forward through the trees and came in less than
five minutes within sight of a corner of the chateau, which I
found to be a modern building of the time of Henry II., raised,
like the houses of that time, for pleasure rather than defence,
and decorated with many handsome casements and tourelles.
Despite this, it wore, as I saw it, a grey and desolate air, due
in part to the loneliness of the situation and the lateness of
the hour; and in part, I think, to the smallness of the household
maintained, for no one was visible on the terrace or at the
windows. The rain dripped from the trees, which on two sides
pressed so closely on the house as almost to darken the rooms,
and everything I saw encouraged me to hope that mademoiselle's
wishes would second my entreaties, and incline her to lend a
ready ear to my story.

The appearance of the house, indeed, was a strong inducement to
me to proceed, for it was impossible to believe that a young
lady, a kinswoman of the gay and vivacious Turenne, and already
introduced to the pleasures of the Court, would elect of her own
free will to spend the winter in so dreary a solitude.

Taking advantage of the last moments of daylight, I rode
cautiously round the house, and, keeping in the shadow of the
trees, had no difficulty in discovering at the north-east corner
the balcony of which I had been told. It was semi-circular in
shape, with a stone balustrade, and hung some fifteen feet above
a terraced walk which ran below it, and was separated from the
chase by a low sunk fence.

I was surprised to observe that, notwithstanding the rain and the
coldness of the evening, the window which gave upon this balcony
was open. Nor was this all. Luck was in store for me at last.
I had not gazed at the window more than a minute, calculating its
height and other particulars, when, to my great joy, a female
figure, closely hooded, stepped out and stood looking up at the
sky. I was too far off to be able to discern by that uncertain
light whether this was Mademoiselle de la Vire or her woman; but
the attitude was so clearly one of dejection and despondency,
that I felt sure it was either one or the other. Determined not
to let the opportunity slip, I dismounted hastily and, leaving
the Cid loose, advanced on foot until I stood within half-a-dozen
paces of the window.

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