The Bath Keepers Volume I Part 10

"Come forward now, if you dare!"

All this had taken place in an instant; but the panic was soon over, and all the young men, who were in the habit of beating the watch, fighting with citizens, and brawling every night in the streets of Paris, were in no humor to fly from a peasant's club. Having retired to a safe distance, they turned about once more and drew their swords; the bachelors, students, pages, and esquires did the same; for at that blessed epoch almost every man wore a sword or a rapier of some sort, in order to be always in a position to fight on the most trivial pretext: a consequence of the gentle manners and pacific customs of the good old times.

At sight of the bare swords, Miretta said to her companion:

"Come, push on, Cedrille! beat your horse! Let us get away from here, or some disaster will happen to us."

The peasant shook Bourriquet's rein with no gentle force; but although the beast no longer felt a hand on his bit, he stood like a statue in his tracks, and, in spite of the urging of his rider, refused to advance a step, terrified doubtless by the noise that he heard and by the crowd that stood in a circle about him.

Meanwhile, the young men again approached, half threateningly, half laughingly; they brandished their swords, and some of the points were already in contact with the dogwood staff which Cedrille continued to handle with much address, while they shouted in his ears:

"Down! down, rustic!"

"Dismount at once, and ask our pardon on your knees!"

"Yes, let him apologize! or else we will carry off the girl!"

"And Bourriquet too!"

"And we will break the staff over Cedrille's back!"

"Break my staff!--Oh! jarnidieu! there's more than one of you who will have a few ribs broken first!"

But when she saw all those gleaming blades directed against her companion, and often, by inadvertence, threatening her own person, pretty Miretta uttered piercing shrieks; she called imploringly for help. To her cries, uttered as they were in a plaintive, grief-stricken tone, the young men replied by a storm of jests and lamentations; they tried to rea.s.sure the girl, to make her understand that they would do her no harm; but she, too terrified to hear what they said, continued her outcries.

Thereupon Master Hugonnet, who thus far had continued to shave Monsieur de Monclair, abandoned his customer and ran into the street to find out what was happening. At the same time, Ambroisine left the baths to ascertain the cause of the uproar and the shrieks that she heard.

As the father and the daughter reached the street, two other persons arrived on the scene, one by Rue des Mathurins, the other from Saint-Benoit cemetery; and, having quickened their pace in order to arrive sooner, they made their appearance at almost the same moment--forcing their way through the crowd without ceremony, and distributing blows to right and left among those who did not move aside quickly enough to make way for them.

VIII

A BATTLE

"Ah! here's our friend Pa.s.sedix, whom we were so anxious about!" cried several of the reckless youths, when they spied the long, lank, yellow-faced chevalier, who always wore a helmet, which heightened his resemblance to Don Quixote, although his helmet was not of the shape of that worn by the Knight of the Rueful Countenance.

"Ah! here is the Sire de Jarnonville!" exclaimed others of the young men, at sight of the second of the two new-comers, who, by rough handling of the crowd, had arrived in front of the barber's shop.

He was a tall, handsome man, dressed in a rich but very sombre costume; his black doublet, slashed with white satin, had the appearance of a mourning garment; a black velvet cloak, faced with white, covered his shoulders; his full, funnel-shaped top-boots also were black, although most gentlemen wore yellow ones except when they went to war. His broad-brimmed hat, turned up in front, had no other ornament than a long plume of the same color as the cloak. So that the Sire de Jarnonville was sometimes given the sobriquet of the _Black Chevalier_.

He was thirty-eight years of age, but seemed much older, because his brown hair was beginning to turn gray; because his n.o.ble and regular features were almost always clouded, as if under the burden of painful thoughts; because his eyes also had ordinarily an expression of profound sadness; and lastly, because his brow was furrowed with premature wrinkles, and the clouds which darkened it were rarely dissipated.

And yet this gentleman, whose aspect was so gloomy, and whom one would have taken to be the enemy of all pleasure, had for several years past partic.i.p.ated in all the amus.e.m.e.nts and festivities, and especially in all the brutal tricks which were played on bourgeois, tradesmen, and even attaches of the court. Whenever one of the most dissolute frequenters of the bathing establishments proposed some new escapade--to abduct a woman, to hoodwink a guardian, or to thrash the watch and throw a whole quarter into dismay, he could be certain beforehand that the Sire de Jarnonville would join him; he was one of the first volunteers in all perilous undertakings; he always rushed to the spot where the danger was greatest, fought like four men, and was the last to leave the field.

If anyone had a duel on hand and lacked a second, the Black Chevalier was always ready to render him that service, without even inquiring as to the subject of the dispute or the name of the adversary; but always on condition that he should fight with the opposing seconds.--Did anyone propose to gamble and drink, Jarnonville gambled and drank, and sometimes drank too much. Amid the companions of his revels, at the banquet table, in a midnight affray, in a duel, he almost always retained that melancholy expression which had aged his features before their time; to one who watched him fight and gamble and drink, it seemed that he did all those things without inclination or pleasure, but solely in the hope of diverting his thoughts; and that he could not succeed in doing it. Such was the personage who had forced his way through the crowd and taken his stand beside the Marquis de Senange, while the Chevalier de Pa.s.sedix approached Bourriquet's hind quarters and contemplated with admiration the pretty girl who was seated thereon.

"Ah! here is Jarnonville! Vivat! the victory is ours!"

"Come on our side, O Black Chevalier! you arrive in the nick of time; there's a girl to be kidnapped, and a clown to be beaten!"

"Vrai Dieu! it seems to me that there are a good many of you for such a small matter!" rejoined the Sire de Jarnonville, casting his eye over the crowd a.s.sembled before the barber's house.

"Yes; but the task is not so simple as you might think, my master; for we must obtain possession of this pretty wench without doing her the slightest harm; and yonder idiot, with his club, is capable of wounding the little one in trying to defend her."

"Ah! he knows how to handle the staff, does he? So much the better! we will judge of his talent."

"Sandioux! messeigneurs," cried Pa.s.sedix, "why do you attack this child?

and this stout youth whom she presses to her heart, rolling her lovely eyes to beseech our compa.s.sion?--I wish, first of all, to know the subject of the quarrel; and I object beforehand to any sort of force being put upon such a charming wench!"

"Come, come, valiant Pa.s.sedix, just move away from that nag's hind quarters and come over to our side! Do you mean to desert our camp? are you going over to the Greeks?"

"Beware, second Don Quixote; we shall have no mercy for traitors!"

"Cadedis! if you think to frighten me, my boy, you waste your time and your words! With my good Roland, this trusty blade which came to me from my G.o.dfather Chaudoreille, I will spit you all like smelts, provided that this lovely child accepts me for her knight. One word from her sweet mouth, and I make mincemeat of you all!"

Bursts of laughter greeted the Gascon chevalier's braggadocio; but he, drawing his long sword, put the point to the ground before Miretta, and bent his knee as he said to her:

"Answer, O marvellous queen of Paphos and Cythera! Will you accept me for your champion in the combat which I beg the privilege of undertaking for you? Give me a pledge--the merest trifle--your glove; you have none?

then your pretty hand, that I may kiss it; and I am victor!"

Miretta stared in utter amazement at that tall man, thin as an asparagus stalk, who was almost kneeling at her horse's tail; she seemed not at all inclined to accept him for her knight, for ugliness inspires women with little confidence, and the Chevalier Pa.s.sedix was perfectly ugly.

But the Bearnais peasant, still twirling his staff, said to the Gascon:

"Thanks for your offer, seigneur cavalier; it isn't to be refused.--Here are I don't know how many of them setting on me, and I am all alone to defend my travelling companion! My opinion is that it's a cowardly trick! But come and take my side, and I'll warrant that with my club and your spit we'll prevent these gentry from carrying off Miretta."

Although he considered the term _spit_ in very bad taste as applied to Roland, the valorous Pa.s.sedix, whom Miretta's eyes had already taken captive, instantly took his stand in front of the horse, threatening the a.s.sailants with his sword.

While these things were taking place about the travellers, Master Hugonnet and his daughter, having learned the subject of the quarrel, were striving to make the reckless youths drawn up in battle array in front of the shop listen to reason. But that which at first was a simple jest had become, in the eyes of those young dandies, a matter of self-esteem, almost of honor. No one of them was willing to give ground before Cedrille's staff. In order that the dispute should come to an end without violence, it would have been necessary for the peasant to agree to apologize to those who had jeered at him and insulted him, and he was in no mood to humble himself before them.

"By Notre-Dame! messeigneurs," said Hugonnet, going from one to another of his customers, with his basin of soapsuds in one hand and his shaving brush in the other, "what have this peasant and his companion done to you that you should pick a quarrel with them? What an idea--to throw a whole quarter into commotion and bring the whole neighborhood to the windows, for two travellers who have only one horse between them!"

"Leave us in peace, Hugonnet; attend to your own affairs; this doesn't concern you!"

"Pardieu! yes, it does concern me; for you are blocking the whole street, you are in battle order in front of my house, so that it would be impossible for anyone to come near who might happen to want a bath or a shave! So you see that you injure me with your quarrelling, and that it does concern me."

"For heaven's sake, messieurs," said Ambroisine, in her turn, "do not torment this poor traveller like this! What pleasure can you find in frightening a woman? Let these people go their way. They are not Parisians--anyone can see that! They do not know that you are only threatening them in joke."

"In joke!" repeated young La Valteline, with a frown. "But you are not aware, _belle baigneuse_, that that peasant's staff has soiled my cloak!--Oh! I must chastise him for that! These knaves must be taught the respect that they owe us."

"And why do you jeer at them and attack them, if you wish them to respect you?"

"Enough, fair Ambroisine! sermons are all right for preachers, but they amount to nothing in a pretty girl's mouth!"

"Come, Jarnonville! forward! have at him! have at him! let us trounce the peasant!"