"_Peste_!" I muttered, frowning. "So they are following me into Poitou!
Am I never to have any rest?"
I took similar precautions that night to those which I had taken the night before. The next day, about noon, emerging out of a valley, I saw my pursuers on the top of the hill at my rear. Plainly, they intended to follow me to the end of the earth. I hoped they would stop in Poitiers and get drunk, but they tarried there no more than I. And so it was, later, at Civray and at Angouleme.
Every day I got one or two glimpses of this persistent pack of hounds.
Every night I used like measures to make sudden flight possible. One night the sound for which I kept my ears expectant reached them,--the sound of horses" hoofs on the hard road. I dropped from the open window of the inn at which I was, led out my horse from the shed, and made off, southward. The noise made by their own horses prevented my pursuers from hearing that made by mine. Presently the clatter abruptly ceased, whereupon I knew that they had stopped at the inn which I had left. My relief at this was offset by chagrin at a discovery made by me at the same moment: I had left my bag of golden crowns in the inn chamber. I dared not now go back for them. Well, Nerac could not be far away, now. I had traversed a good part of Guienne. The Dordogne was behind me.
I was glad that I had taken better care of the letter from Marguerite to her husband than I had taken of my crowns. Fortunately it had not left my doublet. I felt that my future depended on the delivery of that letter. There could be no doubt that Marguerite had recommended me in it with a favor that would obtain for me both protection and employment from the King of Navarre.
Daylight came, and with it hunger. I stopped at an inn, and was about to dismount, when I remembered that I had no money.
I could do without food for a time, but my horse could not. I told the landlord,--a short, heavy, square-faced, small-eyed man,--that I would, later, send him payment for a breakfast. He looked at me with a contempt that even a peasant dare show to a gentleman, when the gentleman has no money.
"Very well, then," I said. "I will leave you security."
He looked more respectful at this, and made a quick examination of me with his eyes.
"Unless you have some jewelry about you," he said, "your sword is the only thing that I would accept."
"You clod," I exclaimed, in a rage. "I ought to give you my sword through the body."
"A gentleman ought not to demand, for nothing, that which a poor man makes his living by selling," answered the host, turning to go in.
I looked down at my horse, which had already shown an endurance beyond its stock, and which now turned its eyes, hungrily, towards the inn stable. At the same time I thought I heard the sound of hoofs, away northward. After all, the delivery of the letter depended more on the horse than on my sword, for one horse is more likely to beat seven horses than one sword to beat seven swords.
To try whether it were possible, I made one movement, as if to hand over the weapon. But my arm refused. As well try to pluck the heart out of my body, and give it to the dog"s keeping. Rather kill the man on his own threshold and, like a brigand, help myself. But I chose to be merciful.
"Be quick, then," I said. "Bring me some wine, and feed my horse as it stands here. I could take, for nothing, what you ask such high security for."
"And I have three strong sons," said the innkeeper, impudently. But he brought the wine, and ordered one of his sons to bring oats for the horse. So we made our breakfast there, horse and man, standing before the inn door. When the animal had licked up the last grain, I suddenly hurled the heavy wine-mug at the innkeeper"s head, wheeled my horse about, and galloped off, shouting back to the half-stunned rascal, "Your three sons must be swift, as well as strong, to take my sword." And I rode on, southward.
"Will the Guisards follow me over this river, also?" I asked myself, as I crossed the Garonne.
In the afternoon, I stopped for another look backward. There was not a soul to be seen on the road.
"Adieu, M. Barbemouche!" I said. "I believe you have grown tired of me at last."
At that instant a group appeared at the distant turn of the road. I counted them. Seven! And they were coming on at the speed of the wind.
I patted my horse on his quivering neck. "Come, old comrade," I said.
"Now for one last, long race. In your legs lies my future."
He obeyed the spur, and his increased pace revealed a slight lameness, which had not before been perceptible.
"We have only to reach some Gascon town," I said to him. "The soldiers of the King of Navarre will protect the bearer of a letter to him from their Queen."
I turned in my saddle, and looked back. They were gaining ground.
"They know that this is their last chance," I said. "We are near the country held by the King of Navarre, and so they make a last effort before giving up the chase. On, my staunch fellow! You shall have fine trappings, and shall fare as well as your master, for this!"
The animal maintained its pace as if it understood; but it panted heavily and foamed, its eyes took on a wild look, and its lameness increased.
"They are coming nearer, there is no doubt of it!" I told myself. "Have I escaped from the Louvre and from Paris, led my enemies a chase through five provinces, to be taken when refuge is at last in sight? Shall Marguerite"s letter to Henri of Navarre fall into the hands of those who wish him no good?"
Tears gushed from my eyes as I thought of the cruelty of destiny, which had sustained me so far in order to betray me at the end. I took the letter from my doublet, and held it ready to tear into pieces should I indeed be caught. Although Marguerite was thought to have secrets with the Duke of Guise, it was likely that she would not wish him to know what she might write to her husband, whose political ally she always was.
And now my horse dropped its head lower at each bound forward. The seven horses behind showed no sign of tiring.
"Thank G.o.d, I kept my sword! I can kill one of them, at least!"
I no longer looked back. Blindly forward I went, impelled only to defer the end to the last possible moment. G.o.d knew what might yet intervene.
Suddenly my horse gave a snort of pain, stumbled blindly, and fell to his knees. He slid forward a short distance, carried on by his impetus, and then turned over on his side, and lay quivering. I had taken my feet from the stirrups at his stumble, so that I now stood over his body.
I heard the loud clank of the hoofs behind. I stepped over the horse, and drew my sword. A short distance ahead was a clump of scrubby pines; there I would turn and make my stand.
Then was the time when I might have torn up the letter, had I not suddenly forgotten my intention. I held it clutched in my hand, mechanically, as I ran. I was conscious of only one thing,--that death was bearing down on me. The sound of the horses" footfalls filled my ears. Louder and louder came that sound, drowning even the quick panting of my breath. Again came that aching in the side, that intolerable pain which I had felt in my flight from Paris.
I pressed my hand to my side, and plunged forward. Suddenly the road seemed to rise and strike me in the face. I had fallen prostrate, and now lay half-stunned on the earth. I had just time to turn over on my back, that I might face my pursuers, when the foremost horse came up.
"Well, my man," cried the rider, in a quick, nervous voice, as I looked stupidly up at his short, st.u.r.dy figure, hooked nose, keen eyes, black hair and beard, and shrewd, good-natured face, "did you think the devil was after you, that you ran so hard? _Ventre Saint Gris_! You would make an excellent courier."
"I am a courier," I answered, trying to rise. "I ran so fast that I might soon reach Nerac with this letter for your majesty."
And I held the letter out to King Henri of Navarre.
CHAPTER VII.
HOW HE ANNOYED MONSIEUR DE LA CHATRE
I had never seen Henri of Navarre, before, but had often heard him described, and no other man exactly fitted his description. His favorite oath confirmed my recognition.
He took the letter, saying, "It looks as if it had been through fire and flood."
"I had to swim the Seine with it," I said.
He read it, sitting on his horse in the middle of the road, I standing beside the horse, the other six riders eyeing me curiously.
Having finished it, he looked at me with some interest and approval. "And what made you run from us?" he asked.
"Sire, there were seven hors.e.m.e.n left in the party that has been chasing me for some days past. Counting seven in your group, I too quickly a.s.sumed that it was the same."
The King of Navarre laughed, and ordered one of the lackeys to give me his horse and proceed afoot to the nearest town. When I was mounted, he asked me to ride beside him.