"Not mine only," the old man rejoined, looking at him with a particularity and speaking with an emphasis which attracted our attention, "but those of many others, who I can a.s.sure you will very shortly yield them up to you, whether they will or not."
M. de Rosny shrugged his shoulders and pa.s.sed on, affecting to suppose the old man wandered. But privately he thought much of his words, and more when he learned that he was an astrologer from Paris, who had the name, at any rate in this country, of having studied under Nostradamus. And whether he drew fresh hopes from this, or turned his attention more particularly as we approached Blois to present matters, certainly he grew more cheerful, and began again to discuss the future, as though a.s.sured of his master"s recovery.
"You have never been to the King"s Court?" he said presently, following up, as I judged, a train of thought in his own mind. "At Blois, I mean."
"No; nor do I feel anxious to visit it," I answered. "To tell you the truth, M. le Baron," I continued with some warmth, "the sooner me are beyond Blois, the better I shall be pleased. I think we run some risk there, and, besides, I do not fancy a shambles. I do not think I could see the king without thinking of the Bartholomew, nor his chamber without thinking of Guise."
"Tut, tut!" he said, "you have killed a man before now."
"Many," I answered.
"Do they trouble you?"
"No, but they were killed in fair fight," I replied, "That makes a difference."
"To you," he said drily. "But you are not the King of France, you see. Should you ever come across him," he continued, flicking his horse"s ears, a faint smile on his lips, "I will give you a hint. Talk to him of the battles at Jarnac and Moncontour, and praise your Conde"s father! As Conde lost the fight and, he won it, the compliment comes home to him. The more hopelessly a man has lost his powers, my friend, the more fondly he regards them, and the more highly he prizes the victories he call no longer gain."
"Ugh!" I muttered.
"Of the two parties at Court," Rosny continued, calmly overlooking my ill-humour, "trust D"Aumont and Biron and the French clique. They are true to France at any rate. But whomsoever you see consort with the two Retzs-the King of Spain"s jackals as men name them-avoid him for a Spaniard and a traitor."
"But the Retzs are Italians," I objected peevishly.
"The same thing," he answered curtly. "They cry, "Vive le Roi!" but privately they are for the League, or for Spain, or for whatever may most hurt us; who are better Frenchmen than themselves, and whose leader will some day, if G.o.d spare his life, be King of France."
"Well, the less I have to do with the one or the other of them, save at the sword"s point, the better I shall be pleased," I rejoined.
On that he looked at me with a queer smile; as was his way when he had more in his mind than appeared. And this, and something special in the tone of his conversation, as well, perhaps, as my own doubts about my future and his intentions regarding me, gave me an uneasy feeling; which lasted through the day, and left me only when more immediate peril presently rose to threaten us.
It happened in this way. We had reached the outskirts of Blois, and were just approaching the gate, hoping to pa.s.s through it without attracting attention, when two travellers rode slowly out of a lane, the mouth of which we were pa.s.sing. They eyed us closely as they reined in to let us go by; and M. de Rosny, who was riding with his horse"s head at my stirrup, whispered me to press on. Before I could comply, however, the strangers cantered by us, and turning in the saddle when abreast of us looked us in the face. A moment later one of them cried loudly, "It is he!" and both pulled their horses across the road, and waited for us to come up.
Aware that if M. de Rosny were discovered he would be happy if he escaped with imprisonment, the king being too jealous of his Catholic reputation to venture to protect a Huguenot, however ill.u.s.trious, I saw that the situation was desperate; for, though we were five to two, the neighbourhood of the city-the gate being scarcely a bow-shot off-rendered flight or resistance equally hopeless. I could think of nothing for it save to put a bold face on the matter, and, M. de Rosny doing the same, we advanced in the most innocent way possible.
"Halt, there!" cried one of the strangers sharply. "And let me tell you, sir, you are known."
"What if I am?" I answered impatiently, still pressing on. "Are you highwaymen, that you stop the way?"
The speaker on the other side looked at me keenly, but in a moment retorted, "Enough trifling, sir! Who YOU are I do not know. But the person riding at your rein is M. de Rosny. Him I do know, and I warn him to stop."
I thought the game was lost, but to my surprise my companion answered at once and almost in the same words I had used. "Well, sir, and what of that?" he said.
"What of that?" the stranger exclaimed, spurring his horse so as still to bar the way. "Why, only this, that you must be a madman to show yourself on this side of the Loire."
"It is long since I have seen the other," was my companion"s unmoved answer.
"You are M. de Rosny? You do not deny it?" the man cried in astonishment.
"Certainly I do not deny it," M. de Rosny answered bluntly. "And more, the day has been, sir," he continued with sudden fire, "when few at his Majesty"s Court would have dared to chop words with Solomon de Bethune, much less to stop him on the highway within a mile of the palace. But times are changed with me, sir, and it would seem with others also, if true men rallying to his Majesty in his need are to be challenged by every pa.s.ser on the road."
"What! Are you Solomon de Bethune?" the man cried incredulously. Incredulously, but his countenance fell, and his voice was full of chagrin and disappointment,
"Who else, sir?" M. de Rosny replied haughtily. "I am, and, as far as I know, I have as much right on this side of the Loire as any other man."
"A thousand pardons."
"If you are not satisfied-"
"Nay, M. de Rosny, I am perfectly satisfied."
The stranger repented this with a very crestfallen air, adding, "A thousand pardons"; and fell to making other apologies, doffing his hat with great respect. "I took you, if you will pardon me saying so, for your Huguenot brother, M. Maximilian," he explained. "The saying goes that he is at Rosny."
"I can answer for that being false," M. de Rosny answered peremptorily, "for I have just come from there, and I will answer for it he is not within ten leagues of the place. And now, sir, as we desire to enter before the gates shut, perhaps you will excuse us." With which he bowed, and I bowed, and they bowed, and we separated. They gave us the road, which M. de Rosny took with a great air, and we trotted to the gate, and pa.s.sed through it without misadventure.
The first street we entered was a wide one, and my companion took advantage of this to ride up abreast of me. "That is the kind of adventure our little prince is fond of," he muttered. "But for my part, M. de Marsac, the sweat is running down my forehead. I have played the trick more than once before, for my brother and I are as like as two peas. And yet it would have gone ill with us if the fool had been one of his friends."
"All"s well that ends well," I answered in a low voice, thinking it an ill time for compliments. As it was, the remark was unfortunate, for M. de Rosny was still in the act of reining back when Maignan called out to us to say we were being followed.
I looked behind, but could see nothing except gloom and rain and overhanging eaves and a few figures cowering in doorways. The servants, however, continued to maintain that it was so, and we held, without actually stopping, a council of war. If detected, we were caught in a trap, without hope of escape; and for the moment I am sure M. do Rosny regretted that he had chosen this route by Blois-that he had thrust himself, in his haste and his desire to take with him the latest news, into a snare so patent. The castle-huge, dark, and grim-loomed before us at the end of the street in which we were, and, chilled as I was myself by the sight, I could imagine how much more appalling it must appear to him, the chosen counsellor of his master, and the steadfast opponent of all which it represented.
Our consultation came to nothing, for no better course suggested itself than to go as we had intended to the lodging commonly used by my companion. We did so, looking behind us often, and saying more than once that Maignan must be mistaken. As soon as we had dismounted, however, and gone in, he showed us from the window a man loitering near; and this confirmation of our alarm sending us to our expedients again, while Maignan remained watching in a room without a light, I suggested that I might pa.s.s myself off, though ten years older, for my companion.
"Alas!" he said, drumming with his fingers on the table "there are too many here who know me to make that possible. I thank you all the same."
"Could you escape on foot? Or pa.s.s the wall anywhere, or slip through the gates early?" I suggested.
"They might tell us at the Bleeding Heart," he answered. But I doubt it. I was a fool, sir, to put my neck into Mendoza"s halter, and that is a fact. But here is Maignan. What is it, man?" he continued eagerly.
"The watcher is gone, my lord," the equerry answered.
"And has left no one?"
"No one that I can see."
We both went into the next room and looked from the windows. The man was certainly not where we had seen him before. But the rain was falling heavily, the eaves were dripping, the street was a dark cavern with only here and there a spark of light, and the fellow might be lurking elsewhere. Maignan, being questioned, however, believed he had gone off of set purpose.
"Which may be read half a dozen ways," I remarked.
"At any rate, we are fasting," M. de Rosny answered. Give me a full man in a fight. Let us sit down and eat. It is no good jumping in the dark, or meeting troubles half way."
We were not through our meal, however, Simon Fleix waiting on us with a pale face, when Maignan came in again from the dark room. "My lord," he said quietly, "three men have appeared. Two of them remain twenty paces away. The third has come to the door." As he spoke we heard a cautious summons below, Maignan was for going down, but his master bade him stand. Let the woman of the house go," he said.
I remarked and long remembered M. de Rosny"s SANG-FROID on this occasion. His pistols he had already laid on a chair beside him throwing his cloak over them; and now, while we waited, listening in breathless silence, I saw him hand a large slice of bread-and-meat to his equerry, who, standing behind his chair, began eating it with the same coolness. Simon Fleix, on the other hand, stood gazing at the door, trembling in every limb, and with so much of excitement and surprise in his att.i.tude that I took the precaution of bidding him, in a low voice, do nothing without orders. At the same moment it occurred to me to extinguish two of the four candles which had been lighted; and I did so, M. de Rosny nodding a.s.sent, just as the muttered conversation which was being carried on below ceased, and a man"s tread sounded on the stairs.
It was followed immediately by a knock on the outside of our door. Obeying my companion"s look, I cried, "Enter!"
A slender man of middle height, booted and wrapped up, with his face almost entirely hidden by a fold of his cloak, came in quickly, and closing the door behind him, advanced towards the table. "Which is M. de Rosny?" he said.
Rosny had carefully turned his face from the light, but at the sound of the other"s voice he sprang up with a cry of relief. He was about to speak, when the newcomer, raising his hand peremptorily, continued, "No names, I beg. Yours, I suppose, is known here. Mine is not, nor do I desire it should be. I want speech of you, that is all."