The Chevalier d'Auriac Part 11

'But fifteen yards of a swim, monsieur, and we are safe.'

'Not exactly. See there?'

The sergeant followed my outstretched blade, and swore too. Right before us two men galloped out of a strip of coppice that stretched to the water's edge and cut us off from the stream.

'_Sacrebleu!_ How did they know that cut? Have at them, monsieur.'

And we did.

It had to be a matter of moments only. The troopers behind were coming on, and, if once they reached us, we could not well hope to escape again; the odds were too many. I did not, therefore, waste time, but went straight for my man, and, to do him justice, he seemed nothing loath to meet me. He cut over the shoulder, and, receiving this on my forte, I gave him the point in the centre of his breastplate, making it ring like a bell. Only a Milanese corselet could have saved him as it did. My nag went on, but turned on its haunches to the reins, and before he could well recover himself I was at him again, and discovered that he wore a demi-mask on his face.

'Monsieur, shall I p.r.i.c.k your mask off before killing you?' I mocked, suiting the words to a thrust that all but effected the object, and ripped him on the cheek.

He was a good swordsman, but this made him beside himself with pa.s.sion, and this frantic state, and the sound of his voice as he kept cursing me, told me that my opponent was none other than Biron himself. Now came a serious difficulty, which I had to consider like lightning. Did I kill him, and he was an infant in my hands, there could be no hope for me--he was too great--too highly placed for me to have any chance if I compa.s.sed his death. Therefore, as I pressed him, I called out loud enough for him to hear, 'Marshal, you are mad--go back--you are known to me.'

He thrust at me for answer; but I could stand no more nonsense, and, getting within his guard, struck him off his horse with a blow from the hilt of my sword, and, wasting not a second more on him, turned to the a.s.sistance of Nicholas.

It was much needed, for the sergeant's opponent was none other than de Gomeron himself, who had remounted after his fall, and, by cutting off a corner, intercepted us, almost with complete success. How Nicholas held his own against this finished swordsman for even so long a period as a half-minute I am unable to say. It was doubtless due to the strength of his bitter hatred, and his fury for revenge. Even as it was, I was too late. As I dashed towards him, Nicholas fairly screamed out:

'Leave him to me--he is--a--ah!'

He never finished, for de Gomeron saw his chance and pa.s.sed his sword through the sergeant's throat, and he fell limply from Couronne a dead man.

Before, however, the free-lance could recover himself I was on him, and, standing in my stirrups, cut at him with the full swing of my sword. He parried like lightning, but the force of the blow beat down his guard, and although my blade fell flat upon his steel cap, he went down like an ox.

Poor Nicholas was gone! I knew that thrust, and once received there was nothing for it but ma.s.ses for the soul. A half-dozen troopers were not two hundred yards away, and life lay on the other side of the Eure. I went straight on, and jumped my horse into the stream. It was running high and deep, and as I fell into the water with a splash and hiss of white foam around me, I heard another heavy plunge close to my shoulder, and, in the glance I cast towards the sound, saw that it was the now riderless Couronne, who had followed her companion of the night. To ease the horse, I slipped from the saddle, and, hanging on to the pommel, was towed along by him as the good beast breasted the stream bravely. _Pardieu!_ How the yellow water grumbled and foamed and bubbled around us. The current set towards the opposite bank, and the force of it carried us down, it seemed in a moment, fully fifty yards from the spot where we had plunged in, to within a few feet of the opposite sh.o.r.e. Here, however, the river ran strong and swiftly, the bank was high, and the horses could make no headway, but kept drifting down. By this time the troopers had reached the scene of the fight, and I could hear them howling with anger as they gathered around their fallen leaders, and, without a head to guide them, hesitated what to do, each moment of delay giving me precious time, and bringing me closer to a shelving bank a few yards to the left. Not one of the troopers dared the stream, and they had apparently emptied their arquebuses after us in pursuit, for none fired, although they called to each other, 'Shoot him down--shoot him down!'

A couple of men galloped down stream a little below me, and, dismounting, began to load hurriedly, it being evidently their intention to pick me off as I drifted past. For the moment I gave myself up for lost; but, determining to make a last effort to save myself, made a s.n.a.t.c.h at the willows that overhung the bank and brushed us with their wet and dripping leaves as we struggled underneath. As I did this, I loosed my hold of the saddle, and the horses slid past me, and I was dragged by the current right into the bank. The willows were tough, and I held on to them like a leech, and the troopers, who had seen what I was about, began to laugh at me, and adjure me to hold on tight as they would be ready to shoot in a moment. The fools! They gave me the moment's time I wanted, and, digging my boot into the soft bank, I laid hold of the stem of a willow and with an effort reached the sh.o.r.e. I rolled over at full length, and then lay flat on my face, whilst the troopers with many curses ran forward a few feet and let off their arquebuses, on the off chance of bringing me down. They aimed truly enough, and had I not lain to earth as I did, I should infallibly have been killed, for the bullets whizzed past, it seemed, but a few inches above me. I let out a yell as if I was mortally hurt, and then rising, ran down stream behind the willows as fast as my bruised leg would allow me, to see if I could not get back one or both the horses. My stratagem had the desired effect, for on my cry of 'I am dead--I am dead,' two others of the men who had run up let off their pieces where I was supposed to be, and they all shouted, 'We have him; he is down.'

'_Morbleu!_ Not yet,' I could hardly refrain from chuckling to myself, as I hobbled along the bank, and to my joy saw them in a little bay, about a hundred paces from me, moving slowly in the shallow water. One behind the other, towards the land. A spur had been thrown out here, evidently with the object of protecting the bank, and it had cast the main stream on the opposite sh.o.r.e, and given the beasts a chance of landing.

I felt my leg at each step I took; but went on at a round pace somehow, and came up to Couronne just as she was stepping out of the water. Catching her by the bridle, I mounted, although with some difficulty, and slipping my hands through the reins of my own nag, trotted off under cover of the trees, leaving M. de Gomeron, who had doubtless recovered by this time, and his men to make a target of the darkness. I had come through somehow, but I was sick and sore at heart, as I urged Couronne from a trot to a gallop, when I thought of poor Nicholas lying dead by the banks of the Eure.

CHAPTER VIII

MONSIEUR DE PREAULX

I kept off the road as far as possible to avoid being tracked. Even if no further attempt to follow me was made to-night, which was uncertain, as de Gomeron was not the man to let the barest chance slip through his fingers, yet there was no doubt as to what would happen on the morrow. I congratulated myself on having crippled the last of the sleuthhounds, as my gentlemen would be placed thereby in a difficulty in regard to my route, and if they scoured the country in twos and threes, I felt confident of being able, with Jacques' aid, to give a good account of myself did we meet, despite my bruised leg, which reminded me of itself unpleasantly.

As I patted Couronne's neck I thought of Nicholas, and with the memory of him the face of Marie came up. I felt myself in a measure responsible for his death, and was resolved to weigh out in full to Marie the payment I had promised them both. It was a debt I would discharge to the end of the measure.

A sense of relief came to my mind with this resolve, and, as Rouvres could not be far distant, I slackened pace to let the horses breathe a trifle, and began to hastily plan my future course of action on reaching Paris. I had not only discovered what was evidently a deep and widely-spread plot, but had also stumbled on the dreadful secret of the death of the woman who was to be Queen of France in name, as she was in reality. It was certain that she had been foully murdered.

It was certain that the King's most trusted captain and many of his greatest n.o.bles were hilt-deep in treachery--so much I knew. I had seen with mine own eyes, and heard with mine own ears, but beyond this I had no proofs--and what would my word weigh against theirs! Besides this there was my own trouble. D'Ayen's mocking warning was explicit enough when read with Palin's confidence, and any doubt I may have had on that point was almost set at rest by what I had overheard. In short, I was the rival of the King, and felt my head very loose upon my neck.

What was I to do? It was no easy matter to decide; but I came to the conclusion that my best course was to seek out the all-powerful Sully, tell him what I knew, and beg the help of that great man. I did not know him, except by repute; but my case was strong and my cause good.

I would delay not a moment about this on reaching Paris; but it was Rouvres I had to come to first, and many a league lay for reflection between me and the Louvre.

So I jogged on, not quite certain of my way, and every now and again making a cast to find the road, for by riding parallel with it I knew I must reach my destination. Once, however, I lost myself for about an hour, and, on finding the road again, resolved to keep to it for the remainder of my journey, as the moon was rapidly waning, and that darkness which touches the edge of the morning was at hand.

At last I heard the Lauds chime solemnly out into the night, and in a few minutes pulled up the weary beasts before the gates of Rouvres.

Here I found a difficulty I might have antic.i.p.ated. The gates were shut, and the unpleasant prospect of a dreary wait of some hours lay before me. This was not to be borne, and I raised a clamour that might have awakened the dead. It had the desired effect of rousing the watch at the gate; a wicket was opened, the light of a lanthorn flashed through, and a gruff voice bade me begone.

'Open,' I roared, 'open in the King's name.'

'_Pardieu!_ Monsieur, the gates are kept shut in the King's name, and his Majesty does not like his subjects' rest being disturbed,'

answered another voice, and from its tone and inflection I guessed it was that of an officer.

'In that case, monsieur,' I said, 'let me in so that we may both go to our beds, and a thousand apologies for disturbing you. My servant is already at the _Grand Cerf_, and one man cannot take Rouvres.'

'Then you are that M. de Preaulx of the Anjoumois, whose lackey Jacques Bisson arrived last night--for it is morning now?'

'You keep good watch, monsieur--who else should I be?' I said, with an inward 'thank heaven' at the accident that had discovered to me my new name.

There was no reply for a moment, though I heard some one laughing, and the rays of the light were cast to the right and to the left of me to see that I was really alone. Finally orders were given for my admission. The gates went open with a creaking, and I was within Rouvres.

As I rode in I stopped to thank the officer for his courtesy, and the light being very clear, he observed my condition, and exclaimed, '_Diable!_ But you have ridden far, monsieur, and with a led horse too!'

'I ride in the King's name, monsieur,' I replied a little coldly, and, thanking him once more, was seized with an inspiration, and begged the favour of his company at dinner at the _Grand Cerf_.

'With pleasure, monsieur. Permit me to introduce myself. I am the Chevalier d'Aubusson, lieutenant of M. de Sancy's company of ordonnance.'

I raised my hat in response; 'His Majesty has no braver word than M.

de Sancy. At twelve then, monsieur, I shall have the pleasure of meeting you again; good night, or rather good morning!'

'Adieu!' he answered, 'I will be punctual. The _Grand Cerf_ is but a couple of hundred toises to your right.'

As I rode up the narrow and ill-paved street I heard d'Aubusson whistling a catch as he turned into the guard-room, and congratulated myself on my stratagem and the luck that had befriended it. I knew enough of court intrigue to be aware that de Sancy and the Marshal were at each other's throats, and that I could therefore always get protection here by declaring myself against Biron. Then came a short turn to the right, and Monsieur de Preaulx of the Anjoumois was at the door of the _Grand Cerf_. It opened to my knock, and Jacques, faithful knave, was in waiting. After this there followed the usual little delay and bustle consequent on a new arrival.

As I dismounted Jacques whispered in my ear, 'You are M. de Preaulx of Saumur in the Anjoumois, monsieur.'

'So M. d'Aubusson tells me,' I replied in the same tone, and then louder, 'but you might have made a mess of it, Jacques--however, you meant well, and I owe you five crowns for your good intentions. Now call mine host, and tell him to show me to my rooms whilst you see to the horses.'

Mine host was already there, in slippered feet, with a long candle in one hand and a cup of warmed Romanee in the other. He led the way with many bows, and I limped after him to a room which was large and comfortable enough.

'Here is some mulled Romanee for monsieur le baron,' he said, as he handed me the goblet; 'his lords.h.i.+p the count will observe that the best room has been kept for him, and later on I will have the pleasure of setting the finest dinner in France before the most n.o.ble marquis; good night, monseigneur, good night and good dreams,' and he tottered off, leaving me to drink the mulled wine, which was superb, and to sleep the sleep of the utterly weary.

It was late when I awoke and found Jacques in my room, attending to my things. The rest had done my leg good, although it was still stiff, and the wearing of a long boot painful. As I finished my toilet I asked my man,

'Horses ready?'

'They will be by the time Monsieur has dined. I shall put the valises on the nag we got at Evreux for you.'

'Right. _Morbleu!_ I hear M. d'Aubusson below. It is very late.'

'It has just gone the dinner hour.'