La Dame de Monsoreau (113 page)

" From further suffering."

Bussy turned his head in the direction of the voice that had dared to speak jeeringly at such a moment.

" Oh ! I am lost! " he murmured.

At the same moment the muzzle of an arquebuse w T as placed against his breast and the weapon was fired. Bussy's head fell on his shoulders, and his hands stiffened.

" Assassin ! " said he, " be accursed! "

And he expired with the name of Diane on his lips.

Drops of his blood fell from the trellis upon him who had been addressed as monseigneur.

" Is he dead ? " cried several men, who, after breaking open the door, appeared at the window.

" Yes," answered Aurilly, " but fly ; remember that his highness the Due d'Anjou was the friend and protector of M. de Bussy."

The men asked no better than to fly ; they vanished.

The duke heard the sound of their footsteps as they fled until it died away and was lost in the distance.

" Now, Aurilly," said he, " go upstairs and throw Mon-soreau's body out of the window."

Aurilly did so. He recognized the grand huntsman's body among the heaps of corpses, raised it on his shoulder, and, as he had been ordered, threw it out of the window; as it fell it spattered the clothes of the duke with blood.

Francois rummaged the pockets in the grand huntsman's jerkin, and drew out of one of them the act of alliance he had signed with his own princely hand.

" I have got what I was looking for," said he. " We have nothing more to do here."

" And Diane ? " asked Aurilly from the window.

" Oh, faith, I 'm no longer in love with her, and, as she did not recognize us, untie her. Untie also Saint-Luc, and let both of them go where they like.' 7

Aurilly disappeared.

" This document won't make me king of France," said the duke, tearing the act into pieces; " but neither will it cause me to be beheaded for high treason."

CHAPTER XCIII.

HOW BROTHER GORENFLOT FOUND HIMSELF MORE THAN EVER BETWEEN A GIBBET AND AN ABBEY.

THE conspiracy we have described retained its comedy features to the very end ; neither the Swiss, who had been, as it were, stationed at the mouth of this river of intrigue, nor the French guards, who had lain in wait at one of its confluents and spread their nets for the big fishes, had been able to catch even the small fry.

All had managed to escape through the burial-vault.

No one was seen to leave the abbey ; and this was the reason why Crillon, after the door was broken in, put himself at the head of thirty men and invaded the convent of Sainte Gene-vieve, accompanied by the King.

The silence of death reigned throughout the vast and gloomy structure.

Crillon, being a trained warrior, would have preferred a great uproar; he feared an ambush.

But in vain were scouts sent in advance, in vain were doors and windows opened, in vain was the crypt searched in every direction — the place seemed entirely deserted.

The King marched at the head of the soldiers, sword in hand, and crying at the top of his voice :

" Chicot! Chicot! "

Nobody answered.

" I wonder have they killed him ? " said Henri. « Mordieu! if they have they shall pay for my jester the full value of a nobleman."

" You are right, sire/' answered Crillon, " for he is one of the bravest men that ever lived."

Chicot did not reply, for the simple reason that he was then engaged in flagellating M. de Mayenne and took so keen a pleasure in the task that he neither saw nor heard what was passing around him.

However, when the duke had vanished, when Gorenflothad fainted, as nothing now diverted his attention, he heard the call and recognized the royal voice.

" This way, my son, this way," he shouted, with all the strength of his lungs, while at the same time trying to raise Gorenflot to a sitting position.

He succeeded and propped him up against a tree.

The force he was obliged to expend on this charitable work robbed his voice of some of its sonorousness, so that for a moment Henri believed the cry he heard was the cry of a person in pain.

It was nothing of the sort, however; on the contrary, Chicot was in a state of the most delightful exultation and triumph. But when his eyes were turned on the monk, who was, certainly, in most piteous case, he asked himself whether he ought to let daylight into that treacherous paunch or treat that preposterous wine-barrel with clemency.

He stared, then, at Gorenflot as Augustus must have once stared for a moment at Cinna.

Gorenflot returned gradually to consciousness, and, stupid as he was, he had no illusion as to what he might expect; besides, he was not unlike those animals which, being constantly the prey of man, have an instinctive feeling that no hand will ever touch them except to beat them, no mouth ever come near them except to devour them.

Such was the state of his mind when he again opened his eyes.

" M. Chicot ! " he cried.

" Hum ! so you 're not dead ? " said the Gascon.

" My kind friend," continued the monk, making an effort to join his hands before his enormous stomach, " surely you would not deliver your Gorenflot to his persecutors ? "

" Rascal!" answered Chicot, but in a tone the tenderness of which was poorly disguised.

Gorenflot set up a howl.

Having succeeded at last in bringing his hands together, he wrung them.

" I who have eaten so many good dinners with you," he cried, in a voice choked by tears ; " I who have drunk with you, and that so gracefully and elegantly that you have called me the King of the Sponges; I who used to be so fond of the fat pullets you ordered at the Corns d'Abondance that I never left anything behind me except the bones !"

This climax appeared sublime to Chicot and decided him in favor of clemency.

" Oh, Lord! there they are ! " cried Gorenflot, trying to rise, but not succeeding ; " there they are ! they are coming, I 'm a dead man ! Oh ! dear, dear M. Chicot, help me ! "

And the monk, not being able to get up, adopted the easier plan of throwing himself flat on the ground.

" Rise," said Chicot.

" You forgive me ? "

« We '11 see."

" You have beaten me so much that I think I 'm punished enough already."

Chicot burst out laughing. The wits of the poor monk were so addled that he actually believed he had received the lashes served out to' Mayenne.

" You are laughing, my good M. Chicot ? " said he.

" Of course I 'in laughing, you donkey."

" Then I shall live."

" Perhaps."

" Oh, you would never laugh if your Gorenflot was going to die."

" The matter does not rest with me," answered Chicot, " it rests with the King; the King alone has the power of life and death."

Making a strong effort, Gorenflot managed to get on his two knees.

At this moment the darkness was dispelled by a dazzling light; men in embroidered costumes, and with swords that flashed in the glare of the torches, surrounded the two friends.

" Oh ! Chicot! my dear Chicot! " cried the King, " how glad I am to see you again ! "

"You hear, my dear M. Chicot," said the monk, in an undertone, " this great prince is glad to see you again."

"Well?"

" Well! in his gladness he won't refuse you anything you ask of him; ask him to pardon me."

" What ! ask a favor of the abominable Herod ? "

" Hush ! hush ! silence, my dear M. Chicot."

" Well, sire," inquired Chicot, turning round toward the King, " how many of them have you caught ? "

" Conftteor ! " said Gorenflot.

" Not one," answered Crillon. " The traitors ! they must have found some avenue of escape unknown to us."

" It is probable," said Chicot.

" But you saw them ? " asked the King.

" Certainly, I saw them."

"All?"

"From the first to the last."

" You recognized them, I suppose ? "

« No, sire."

" How is it you did not recognize them ? "

" I should say I recognized one of them, and yet"

" And yet ? "*

" His face was n't the part of him I recognized, either, sire."

" And whom did you recognize ? "

"M. de Mayenne."

" M. de Mayeime ? The man to whom you owed a " —

" Well, we are now quits, sire."

." Ah, tell me all about it, Chicot."

" Later on, my son, later 011 ; let us now give our attention to the present."

" Conftteor f " repeated Gorenflot.

" Ah! you have made a prisoner," said Crillon, suddenly, laying his heavy hand on Gorenflot, who in spite of the resistance afforded by his enormous bulk, bent under the pressure.

The monk became speechless.

Chicot did not answer at once, but allowed all the anguish that can spring from the most abject terror to fill the unfortunate monk's heart for a moment.

Gorenflot nearly fainted a second time when he saw so many wrathful faces around him.

At last, after a silence during which Gorenflot fancied he heard the trumpet of the last judgment sounding in his ears, Chicot said:

" Sire, look well at that monk."

One of the bystanders brought a torch close to Gorenflot's face; he closed his eyes, thinking that thus he might pass more easily from this world into the next.

" The preacher Gorenflot! " cried Henri.

" Confiteoi*, confiteor, confiteor" repeated the monk, rapidly.

" Gorenflot himself," answered Chicot.

« He who " -

" Yes/ 7 interrupted the Gascon.

" Ah ! " exclaimed the King, with an air of satisfaction.

The perspiration that streamed down Gorenflot's cheeks would have filled a bucket.

And there was some reason for this. The sound of clashing swords rang out, as if the weapons themselves had become endowed with life and were quivering with anger.

Some of those present approached him with menacing looks.

Gorenflot felt rather than saw they were near him, and uttered a feeble cry.

" Wait," said Chicot, " the King must know everything."

And he took Henri aside.

" My son," said he, in a whisper, " give God thanks for allowing this holy man to be born, some thirty-five years ago ; for it is he who has saved us all."

" How is that ? "

" It was he who related to me the whole conspiracy, from Alpha to Omega."

« When ? "

" Nearly a week ago; so that if your Majesty's enemies ever find him, he is a dead man."

Gorenflot heard only the last words.

" A dead man ! "

And he fell flat on the ground again.

" So worthy a man," said the King, casting a friendly glance on this mass of flesh which, to the eye of any sensible man, represented only an inordinate lump of matter calculated to absorb and quench any sparks of intelligence that resided within it, " so worthy a man must be shielded by our protection." •

Gorenflot caught in its flight that benevolent look, and, like the mask of the ancient parasite, smiled on one side of his face down to the teeth, and whimpered on the other up to his ear.

" And you will do well to shield him, my King," answered Chicot, " for he is one of the most astonishingly meritorious servants you have."

i( What do you think, then, I ought to do with him ? " inquired the King.

" I think that as long as he remains in Paris he will run a great risk."

" If I gave him guards ? " said the King.

Gorenflot heard this suggestion of Henri.

"Good!" said he. "It looks as if I should get off with imprisonment. I should certainly prefer that to the strappado, if tjiey feed me as well."

" No," said Chicot, " it is n't necessaiy ; all you have to do is to let me take him with "me."

"Where?"

" To my lodgings."

" Rise, reverend father," said Chicot to the monk.

" He can jeer at me ! Oh, what a hard heart !" murmured Gorenflot.

" Get up, you beast," added Chicot, in an undertone, hitting him in the back with his knee.

" Ah ! I know I have deserved this ! " cried Gorenflot.

" What 's that he says ? " inquired the King.

" Sire," returned Chicot, " he remembers all his fatigues r he is recounting all his tortures, and, as I have promised him your Majesty's protection, he says, with a full consciousness of his merits : i I know I have deserved this !' 3

" Poor devil ! " said the King. " Be sure you take good care of him, Chicot."

" Oh, you may be quite sure I shall. He '11 want for nothing, as long as he is with me."

" Ah! M. Chicot ! " cried Gorenflot, " my dear M. Chicot, where are they going to take me ? "

" You '11 soon know. Meanwhile, thank his Majesty, thou mountain of. iniquity, thank his Majesty."

" For what ? "

" Thank him, I tell you."

"Sire," stammered Gorenflot, "since your gracious Majesty"

" Yes," interrupted Henri, " I know all you did for me after your journey to Lyons, during the night of the League, and, finally, to-day. Rest assured you shall be rewarded according to your deserts."

Gorenflot heaved a sigh.

" Where is Panurge ? " asked Chicot.

" In the stable, poor beast!"

" Well, go and get him ; then ride back on him here."

« Yes, M. Chicot."

And the monk went away as fast as he could, astonished that 110 guards followed him.