La Dame de Monsoreau (47 page)

" You saw me this morning with a monk ?" continued Chicot.

u Yes, monsieur," answered the host.

" Hush ! we must be careful — this monk is proscribed."

" Pshaw ! " returned the host, " I suppose some Huguenot in disguise."

Chicot assumed an air of offended dignity.

" Huguenot! " he said, disgusted, " pray who spoke of a Huguenot ? I 'd have you know this monk is one of my relatives, and there are no Huguenots among my relatives. Shame ! shame! an honest man like you ought to blush at the very thought of uttering the name of such vermin."

" But, monsieur, such things have occurred," retorted the other.

" Never in my family! On the contrary, that monk is the most furious enemy ever let loose on the Huguenots, and so he has fallen into disgrace with his Majesty King Henri III., who, as you know, protects them."

The host seemed at length interested in the persecution of Gorenflot.

" Hush !" said he, laying a finger on his lip. ,

" What do you mean ? " asked Chicot; " surely you have n't any of the King's people here ? "

" I am afraid I have," said the host, shaking his head ; " there, on that side, is a traveller" —

" Then my relative and I must escape at once, for an outlaw, a fugitive " —

" Where could you go ? "

" We have two or three addresses given us by one of our friends, an innkeeper named La Huriere."

" La Huriere ! Do you know La Huriere ? "

" Hush! 't is a name not to be spoken; we made his acquaintance on the evening of St. Bartholomew."

" Then," said the host, " I see that you and your relative are holy people. I am also acquainted with La Huriere. I was even desirous when I bought this hostelry of adopting the same sign as his, the Belle-Etoile, as a testimony of my friendship for him ; but the hostelry had long been known as the Cygne de la Croix, and I was afraid a change might not work well. So you say that your relative, monsieur "

" Was so imprudent as to preach against the Huguenots ; he was extraordinarily successful, and so his Most Christian Majesty, furious at the success that disclosed the real opinions of the people, wanted to put him in prison."

" And then ? " inquired the innkeeper, in a tone that showed there could be no mistake about his feelings.

/

" Faith, I carried him off," said Chicot.

" And you did right. The poor dear man !"

" M. de Guise, however, promised me that he would protect him."

" What! the great Henri de Guise ? Henry the "

" Henri the saint."

" Yes, you are right, Henri the saint."

" But I was afraid of civil war."

" Then," said the host, " if you are a friend of M. de Guise, i you know this."

And the innkeeper made a sort of masonic sign by which the Leaguers knew one another.

" Faith, I should say I did ! And you know this, don't you?"

Chicot, during the famous night he had passed in the convent, had not only noticed, a score of times, the sign made by the innkeeper, but the corresponding sign also.

So Chicot, in his turn, made the second sign.

" Then," said the host, all his suspicions scattered to the wind, "you must consider yourself at home, my house is yours ; look on me as a friend, for I look on you as a brother, and if you have no money " —

Chicot's answer was to draw from his pocket a purse that, although already a little depleted, had still all the outward show of a dignified corpulence.

The sight of a chubby-looking purse is always pleasing, even to the generous man who offers you money and in this way learns that you have no need of it: he can keep the merit of his offer without being compelled to put it into execution.

" Oh, just as you like," said the host.

" I may as well tell you," added Chicot, " so that you may be quite easy in your mind, that we are travelling for the propagation of the faith, and that our expenses are paid by the treasurer of the holy Union. Be so kind, then, as to point out a hostelry where we may be perfectly safe."

" Morbleu ! " said the innkeeper, " I know of no place as safe as where you are ; you can take my word for that."

" But you spoke just now of a man staying in the next room to me."

" Yes, but let him take care ; let him make the slightest attempt to spy on you, and out he goes, neck and crop, or Bernouillet is a liar."

" Your name is Bernouillet ? " asked Chicot.

" That is my name, monsieur ; not known, I suppose, in the capital, but pretty well known among the faithful in the province, I am proud to say. Give but the word, and I '11 turn him adrift at once."

"Why should you?" said Chicot; "on the contrary, let him stay; it's always better to have your enemies under your hand ; you can watch them, at least."

" You are right," said Bernouillet, admiringly.

" But what makes you believe this man is our enemy ? I say our enemy," said the Gascon, with a tender smile, " because I see clearly we are brothers."

" Yes, certainly we are," returned the host. " What makes me believe " —

" That is what I am asking you."

" Well! he came disguised as a lackey, then he just put on a lawyer's dress ; and I am sure he is no more a lawyer than he is a lackey, for I saw the long point of a rapier under his cloak. Besides, he spoke of the King in a way that nobody speaks of him; and he confessed to me he had a mission from M. de Mor-villiers, who, you know, is a minister of Nebuchadnezzar."

" Say rather of Herod."

" Of Sardanapalus !"

« Bravo!"

" Ah ! I see we understand each other," said the host.

" I should think so ! " returned Chicot; " so I remain ? "

" I '11 be bound you do ! "

" But not a word about my relative."

" You may depend on that."

" Nor about me."

" What do you take me for ? But silence ! Some one is coming."

Gorenflot stood on the threshold.

" Himself ! — the worthy man himself ! " cried the host.

And he went up to Gorenflot and made the sign of the Leaguers.

This sign struck Gorenflot with surprise and dismay.

" Answer, answer, brother," said Chicot, " our host knows everything, he is a member."

" Member ! " repeated Gorenflot, " member of what ? "

" Of the holy Union," said Bernouillet, in almost a whisper.

" You see now you may answer his sign; answer it, then."

Gorenflot made the answering sign, and the innkeeper's joy was complete.

" But," said Gorenflot, who was in a hurry to change the conversation, "I was promised sherry/*'

" Sherry, Malaga, Alicant, all the wines in my cellar are at your service, brother."

Gorenflot's eyes wandered from the innkeeper to Chicot and were then raised to heaven. He had not the slightest notion why such luck befell him, and it was evident he was acknowledging, with true Christian humility, that his good fortune surpassed his merits.

The three following days, Gorenflot got tipsy: the first day on sherry, the second on Malaga, the third on Alicant; however, after all his experiments, he confessed that there was nothing like Burgundy, and so he went back to Chambertin.

During all the time devoted by Gorenflot to these vinous verifications, Chicot never left his room, and kept on watching the lawyer Nicolas David from night till morning.

The innkeeper, who attributed Chicot's seclusion to his fear of the pretended royalist, did his best to satisfy his vindictive feelings by playing every sort of trick on the latter.

But all this had very little effect, at least apparently. Nicolas David, having made an appointment to meet Pierre de Gondy at the hostelry of the Cygne de la Croix, would not leave his temporary domicile, dreading he might miss the Guises' messengers if he went elsewhere, and so, in his host's presence, nothing seemed to ruffle him. However, when the door closed on Maitre Bernouillet, his solitary rage was a diverting spectacle for Chicot, who had his eye always on the gimlet-hole.

David had divined the innkeeper's antipathy toward him on the second day of his residence, and had said, shaking his fist at him, or rather, at the door through which he passed out :

" In five or six days, you scoundrel, you shall pay me for this."

Chicot knew enough now to satisfy him; he was sure the lawyer would not leave the hostelry before he received the legate's answer.

But as this sixth day — the seventh since his arrival at the inn — drew nigh, Nicolas David, who had been told repeatedly by the innkeeper, in spite of Chicot's remonstrances, that his room was badly needed, Nicolas David, we say, fell sick.

Then the inkeeper insisted he should leave while he was

still able to walk. The lawyer asked a day's respite, declaring he would certainly be well the next day. But on the next day he was worse than ever.

The host himself came with this news to his friend the Leaguer.

" Aha ! " said he, rubbing his hands, " our royalist, Herod's own friend, is going to be passed in review by the Admiral l — rub-a-dub, dub, dub, rub-a-dub ! "

Now, to be passed in review by the Admiral meant, among the Leaguers, to make one single stride from this world to the next.

" Pshaw ! " returned Chicot, " you don't believe he is dying ? "

" A terrible fever, my dear brother, tertian fever, quartan fever, with paroxysms that make him bound up and down in his bed ; a perfect demon, he tried to strangle me and beats my servants ; the doctors can make nothing of the case/'

Chicot reflected.

" You saw him, then ? " he inquired.

" Of course! have n't I told you he tried to strangle me ? "

" How was he ? "

" Pale, nervous, shattered, shouting like one possessed."

" What did he shout ? "

" Take care of the King. They want to murder the King."

" The wretch! "

" The scoundrel! sometimes he says he expects a man from Avignon and wishes to see this man before he dies."

" What's that you say ? " returned Chicot. " He speaks of Avignon, does he ? "

" Every minute."

" Venire de biehe ! " said Chicot, letting fly his favorite oath.

" But don't you think," resumed the innkeeper, " it would be rather odd should he die here ? "

" Very odd, indeed," said Chicot, " but I should not wish him to die before the arrival of the man from Avignon."

" Why ? the sooner he dies, the sooner we 're rid of him."

" Yes, but I do not push my hatred so far as to wish the destruction of both body and soul; and since this man is coming from Avignon to hear his confession "

" Oh, nonsense ! It's only some feverish delusion, some fancy for which his disease is responsible; you may be sure nobody is coming."

1 An allusion to the death of Coligny, the chief of the Huguenots.

" But you see we can't tell," said Chicot.

" Ah! you are the right stamp of a Christian, you are !" answered the innkeeper.

" Render good for evil," says the divine law.

Chicot's host retired, filled with wonder and admiration.

As for Gorenflot, who was left totally in the dark as to all these weighty concerns, he grew visibly fatter and fatter ; at the end of the week the staircase that led to his bedchamber groaned under his weight and was beginning to hem him in between the banister and the wall, so that one evening he came in terrible agitation to announce to Chicot that the staircase was narrowing. However, neither David, nor the League, nor the deplorable condition into which religion had fallen troubled him. His sole and only care was to vary his bill of fare and harmonize the different wines of Burgundy with the different dishes he ordered. No wonder the astounded innkeeper muttered every time he saw him come in and go out :

" Arid to think that that corpulent father should be a regular torrent of eloquence ! "

CHAPTER XXXI.

HOW THE MONK CONFESSED THE LAWYER, AND THE LAWYER CONFESSED THE MONK.

AT length the day that was to rid the hostelry of its guest arrived or appeared to arrive. Maitre Bernouillet dashed into Chicot's room, laughing so immoderately that the Gascon had to wait some time before learning the cause of this hilarity.

" He 's dying ! " cried the charitable innkeeper, " he '11 soon be as dead as a door-nail, at last! "

" So that is why you are in such a fit of merriment ? " asked Chicot.

" Not a doubt of it. Why, the trick would make a dog laugh."

« What trick ? "

" Oh, now, that won't do. Confess that it was you yourself, my fine gentleman, that played it."

" I played a trick on the sick man ? "

" Yes! "

" What is all this about ? What has happened to him ? "

" What has happened to him! You know he was always screaming for his man from Avignon !"

" Oho ! so the man has come at last ? "

" He has come."

" You have seen him ? "

" Certainly. Do you think any one enters here whom I do not see ? "

" And what did he look like ? "

" The man from Avignon ? oh, little, thin, and rosy. 7 '

" It 's the same ! " escaped from Chicot, inadvertently.

" There ! now you must admit you sent the man to him, since you recognize the man."

" So the messenger has arrived! " cried Chicot, rising and twisting his mustache; " ventre de biche ! tell me all about it, my dear Bernouillet."

" All's easily told, and if it was n't you that did the trick, you will, perhaps, say who it was. Well, then, an hour ago, as I was hanging up a rabbit, a little man and a big horse halted before the door.

'•'Is Maitre Nicolas here ?'inquired the little man. You know that was the name that rascally royalist entered on my books.

" ' Yes, monsieur,' I answered.

" f Tell' him the person he is expecting from Avignon is here.'

"' With pleasure, monsieur, but it is my duty to warn you.'