CHAPTER XI.

HOW THE HERO GAVE HIS WORD
AND KEPT IT


 

I stood still and reflected.

"You lack a weapon," said M. de Berquin, humorously. "I shall presently give you mine, point first."

As I was still facing Barbemouche, I imagined the point of the Vicomte's sword entering my back, and I will confess that I shivered.

"And I mine," growled Barbemouche. "Though you are a lackey and I a gentleman, yet, by the grandmother of Beelzebub, I am glad to see you!"

"Indeed!" said I, whose only hope was to gain time for thought. "This is a heartier welcome than a stranger might expect."

De Berquin laughed. Barbemouche said, "You are no stranger"

"Then you know me?" said I. "Who am I?"

"You are the answer to a prayer," said Barbemouche, with an ugly grin. "You thought you fooled us finely last night, and that when you had made a hole in my body you had done with me. But I got a look at you after the mistake was discovered, and I vowed the virgin a dozen candles in return for another meeting with you. And now she has sent you to me."

And he looked at me with such jubilant vindictiveness that I turned and faced De Berquin, saying:

"Monsieur the Vicomte, I have made up my mind that your visage is more pleasant to look on than that of your friend."

By this time, the other three rascals on the ground had been awakened by the tall fellow, and the four had taken up their weapons and placed themselves at the four sides of the open space, so that I could not make a bolt in any direction. All the circumstances that made my life at that time doubly precious rushed into my mind. On it depended the safety of Mlle. de Varion, the rescue of her father, the expeditious return of my brave company to our Henri's side, and certain valuable interests of our Henri's cause. I will confess that it was for its use to mademoiselle, rather than for its use to our Henri, that I most valued, at that moment, the life which there was every chance of my speedily losing.

In De Berquin, and in Barbemouche as well, vengeance cried for my immediate death. Moreover, my death would remove the chief obstacle to De Berquin's having his will concerning Mlle. de Varion. For an instant, I thought he might let me live that I might tell him her whereabouts, but I perceived that my presence was indication to him that she was near at hand. He could now rely on himself to find her. The opportunity of removing me from his way was not to be risked by delay. It was true that I might obtain respite by announcing myself as the Sieur de la Tournoire, for he would wish to present me alive to the governor, if he could do so. The governor and the Duke of Guise would desire to season their revenge on me with torture, and to attempt the forcing from me of secrets of our party. But to make myself known as La Tournoire was but to defer my death. The life that I might thus prolong could not be of any further service to mademoiselle or to Henri of Navarre. Still, I might so gain time. I might escape; my men might rescue me. So, as a last resource, I would save my life by disclosing myself; but I would defer this disclosure until the last possible instant. De Berquin and Barbemouche were evidently in for amusing themselves awhile at my expense. They would prolong matters for their own pleasure and my own further humiliation. Meanwhile, an unexpected means of eluding them might arise.

As for their presence there, I have always accounted for it on this supposition: That, after their defeat on the previous night, they had reunited in the woods, hidden themselves where they might observe our departure from the inn in the morning, followed us at a distance into the mountain forest, lost our track, and finally, knowing neither of Godeau's inn nor of their nearness to the road, dismounted, and sought afoot an open space in which to pass the night. Their horses were probably not far away.

"Ha!" laughed De Berquin, in answer to my words and movement. "So you don't share Barbemouche's own opinion of his beauty?"

An unctuous guffaw from the fat rascal, and a grim chuckle from gaunt François, indicated that Barbemouche's ugliness was a favorite subject of mirth with his comrades.

"The opinion of a dead lackey does not amount to much," gutturally observed Barbemouche. Doubtless I should have felt the point of his rapier between my shoulders but that he waited on the will of De Berquin.

His tone showed that he really had the high regard for his looks that De Berquin's words had implied. It afterward became evident to me that the ugliness of this burly rascal was equalled only by his vanity.

"Nor is a dead lackey half as useful as a living one can be," I said, looking De Berquin straight in the eyes.

"_Par dieu_! I admit that you have been very useful against me, and that is why I am going to kill you," replied De Berquin.

"Would it not be more worthy of a man of intellect, like the Vicomte de Berquin, if I have been useful against him, to make me pay for it by being useful for him?" I said, quietly, without having yet the least idea of what service I should propose doing him in return for my life.

"Most interesting of lackeys, how might you be useful to me?" inquired De Berquin, continuing his mood of sinister jocularity.

How, indeed? I asked myself. Aloud I answered slowly, in order to have the more time to think:

"In your present enterprise, monsieur."

"The devil! What do you know of my present enterprise?" he asked, quickly.

I saw that I had at least awakened his interest in the idea that I might be worth using alive.

"I will tell you," I answered, "if you will first ask this unpleasant person behind me to step aside."

"Unpleasant person!" repeated Barbemouche, astonished at my audacity. "You dog, do you speak in such terms of a gentleman?"

So he was under the delusion also that he possessed gentility.

"Stop, Gilles!" commanded De Berquin. "Go yonder, while I listen to this amusing knave. Let him talk awhile before he dies."

Barbemouche sullenly went over to the side of François, and stood there glowering at me. It was a relief to know that his sword-point was no longer at my back.

"Now, rascal!" said De Berquin to me. "My present enterprise, and how you can be useful to me in it?"

"In the first place, monsieur," I began, having no knowledge how I was to finish, "you and your gallant company are doubtless tired, hungry, and thirsty--"

An assenting grunt from the tall fellow, and a look of keen interest on the faces of all, showed that I had not spoken amiss.

"You are quite lost in these woods," I went on. "You do not know how near you may be to any road or to any habitation, where you might have roof, food, and drink. Heaven, in giving me the pleasure of meeting you, has also done you the kindness of sending one who can guide you to these blessings. That is the first service I can do you."

"Very well, you shall do it. I can kill you as well afterwards."

"But I will not do it unless I have your promise, on your honor as gentlemen, to give me both my life and my liberty immediately."

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"My very modest lackey, you greatly undervalue both your life and your liberty, if you think you can buy them from me at so small a cost. No; you offer too little. The pleasure of killing you far exceeds that of having your guidance. Now that we have happily met you, we know that there must be shelter, food, and drink somewhere near at hand. We can find them for ourselves in as short a time, perhaps, as it would require you to take us there. We shall doubtless have the happiness of meeting there your very gallant master and the lady whom he protects with your arm and sword. Having robbed him of his means of guarding his lovely charge, I shall in fairness relieve him of the charge."

I perceived here the opportunity of learning whether it was under the governor's orders, received through Montignac, that De Berquin pursued mademoiselle while he came in quest of the Sieur de la Tournoire, or whether it was on his own account.

"Your infatuation for this lady must be very great," I said, in a tone too low for his four followers to distinguish my words, "to lead you to force your presence on her."

"_My_ infatuation!" he repeated, and then he laughed. "My very knowing lackey, if you were better informed of my affairs, you would know that an infatuation for Mlle. de Varion is a luxury that I cannot at present afford. A man who has lost his estates, his money, his king's favor, and who has fled from his creditors in Paris to prey on the provinces, thinks not of love, but of how to refill his pockets."

"Then it is not for love that you pursue Mile, de Varion?" I said. I now believed, as I had first thought, that the governor had changed his mind after ordering mademoiselle to leave the province, had decided to hold her in durance, and had commissioned De Berquin to detain her, as well as to hunt down me. But I put the question in order to get further time for thought.

"For love, yes; but not for mine!" was the answer.

This startled me. "For that of M. de la Chatre?" I asked, quickly.

"You seem to be curious on this point," said De Berquin, derisively.

"If I am to die," I replied, "you can lose nothing by gratifying my curiosity. If I am to live, I may be the better able to serve you if you gratify it."

"I am not one to refuse the request of a man about to die," he said, with a self-amused look. "It is not La Chatre, the superb, whose _amour_ I have come into this cursed wilderness to serve."

"Then who--?" But I stopped at the beginning of the question, as a new thought came to me. "The secretary!" I said.

"Montignac, the modest and meditative," replied De Berquin.

I might have thought it. What man of his age, however given to deep study and secret ambition, could have been insensible to her beauty, her grace, her gentleness? Such a youth as Montignac would pass a thousand women indifferently, and at last perceive in Mlle. de Varion at first glance the perfections that distinguished her from others of her sex. Doubtless, to him, as to me, she embodied an ideal, a dream, of which he had scarcely dared hope to find the realization. Seeing her at the inn, he had been warmed by her charms at once. He had resolved to avail himself of his power and of her helplessness. Her father in prison, herself an exile without one powerful friend, she would be at his mercy. Forbidden by his duties to leave the governor's side, he could charge De Berquin, in giving the latter the governor's orders concerning myself, with the additional task of securing the person of mademoiselle, that he might woo her at his leisure and in his own way. The governor, ready enough to frighten into an unwarranted exile a woman whose entreaties he feared, would yet not be so ungallant as to give her to his secretary for the asking. But Montignac might safely hold her prisoner, the governor would think that she had left the province, there would be none to rescue her. Such were the acts, designs, and thoughts that I attributed to the reticent, far-seeing, resolute secretary. All passed through my mind in a moment.

And now I feared for mademoiselle as I had not feared before. I never feared a man, or two men at a time, who came with sword in hand; but how is one to meet or even to perceive the blows aimed by men of thought and power? Such as Montignac, inscrutable, patient, ingenious, strong enough to conceal their own passions, which themselves are more intense and far more lasting than the passions of a mere man of fighting, are not easily turned aside from the quest of any object on which they have put their desires. One against whom they have set themselves is never safe from them while they live. Years do not make them either give up or forget. Montignac, by reason of his influence over the governor, had vast resources to employ. He could turn the machinery of government to his own ends, and the trustful governor not suspect. In that slim youth, smooth-faced, pale, repressed, grave, not always taking the trouble to erase from his features the signs of his scorn for ordinary minds, a scorn mingled with a sense of his own power and with a kind of derisive mirth,--in this quiet student I beheld an antagonist more formidable than any against whom I had ever been pitted. In thinking of him, I came at once to regard De Berquin, who still stood facing me with ready sword, and on his face the intention of killing me plainly written, as a very inconsiderable opponent, even when backed by his four ruffians with their varied collection of weapons.

If I was to save Mlle. de Varion from the designs of the far-reaching secretary, it was time that I eluded the danger immediately confronting me.

For a few moments after De Berquin uttered the speech last recorded, I stood silent, my eyes meeting his.

"Come," he said, presently, impatiently giving several turns of his wrist so that his sword-point described arcs in the air before my eyes. "We wander from the subject. What service can you do me? Don't think you can keep me talking until your party happens to come up. I intend to kill you when I shall have counted twenty, unless before that time you make it appear worth my while to let you live. One, two, three--"

His look showed that he had ceased to be amused at my situation. Alive, I had begun to bore him. It was time to make sure of his vengeance. His men stood on all sides to prevent my flight. At my least movement, he would thrust his rapier deep into my body. He went on counting. What could I offer him to make him stay his hand? Was there anything in the world that he might desire which it would appear to be in my power to give him?

"Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen," he counted, taking exact note of the distance between us.

As in a flash the idea came to me.

"Monsieur," I said, loudly, so as to be plainly heard above his own voice, "let me go and I will deliver to you the Sieur de la Tournoire!"

He had reached nineteen in his count. He stopped there and stared at me.

"The Sieur de la Tournoire," he repeated, as if the idea of his taking the Sieur de la Tournoire were a new one.

"You speak, monsieur," said I, quietly, "as if you had not come to these hills for the purpose of catching him."

He looked at me with a kind of surprise, but said nothing in reply to my remark. "It is natural," thought I, "for him not to disclose his purpose, even when there is no use for him to conceal it."

"I take La Tournoire?" he said, presently, half to himself. He stood thinking for a time, during which I supposed that he was considering the propriety of his personally making the capture, in view of the plan that I had overheard Montignac suggest to the governor, namely, that the spy should merely lure La Tournoire into an ambush where the governor's soldiers should make the seizure. The spy had doubtless received orders strictly in accordance with this plan, La Tournoire being considered too great game to be bagged by anything less than a company of soldiers.

"Why not?" said I. "Whoever does so will receive a good price in addition to the gratitude of M. de la Chatre and that of the Duke of Guise. Indeed, the feat might even win you back the King's favor, which you say you have lost."

"But suppose Montignac has other plans for the capture of this highly valued rebel?" said he.

"If he had," said I, thinking of the arrangement as to the ambush, "they were made in the belief that La Tournoire was not to be taken by one man with a few hired knaves. The captor of La Tournoire can afford to earn Montignac's displeasure by deviating from his orders. Should you take this Huguenot, you would be in a position to snap your fingers at Montignac."

"But if it is in your power to give up La Tournoire, why do you not take him and get the reward? Why have you not done so already?"

"For the very fact which puts it in my power to do so. I am of his party. I am his trusted counsellor, lackey that I pretend to be."

"I have, from the first, thought you a most exceptional lackey. But if you are of his party, and in his secrets, you must be a vile traitor to give him up. That being the case, you would not hesitate to lie to me. Indeed, even if it were not the case, you would not hesitate to lie to me, to save yourself or to gain time."

"As to my being a vile traitor, a man will descend to much in order to save his life. As to my readiness to lie to you, it seems to me that, in the present situation, you are the one man to whom I cannot now afford to lie. With your sword at my throat, it is much easier for me to be a vile traitor to La Tournoire than to lie to you. Besides, I have my own reasons for disliking him, notwithstanding that my cause and his are the same."

"And how do you propose to give him up to me?"

"By merely bringing him face to face with you."

"_Par dieu_! A charming proposition! How do I know that you will not, in pretending to betray him to me, really betray me to him? Suppose you do bring him face to face with me, and his men are all around?"

"Only one of his men shall be present," I said, thinking of Blaise. "He will not come without this one man. As for the others of his band, not one shall be within a league."

"Himself and one man," said De Berquin, musingly. "That is to say, two very able fighters."

"There are five of you."

"But this Tournoire is doubtless worth three men in a fight, and his man will probably be worth two more. I don't think your offer sufficiently attractive. I think I would do better to kill you. Certainly, there are many reasons why you should die. If you should escape me now, as you are one of La Tournoire's people, you would immediately go to him and tell him of my presence here. I do not choose that he shall know as much about me as you do."

"Can you suggest any amendment to my offer, so that it might be more attractive?"

"If you could bring La Tournoire unarmed--"

"I will do that," I said.

De Berquin looked at me steadily for some time. At last he shook his head and said:

"It is a fair bargain, as it now stands, but I see no way of your carrying out your part without putting me in danger of your betraying me. To find La Tournoire, you would have to leave us. Once out of our sight, you would be free to ignore the contract, laugh at me for being so easily gulled, and set La Tournoire and his men on me, which would entirely spoil my plans. Every minute I see more and more the necessity of killing you."

"But I shall find La Tournoire without going out of your sight," I said.

De Berquin again became thoughtful. Then he laughed.

"You mean that you would lead us up to his very den, where we should be at the mercy of his men," he said.

"I have already said that, with one exception, none of his men shall be within a league of where you are to meet him."

"I do not see how you are going to bring him so far from his men, if you do not go for him."

"Leave that to me. I shall take you to a place where he will present himself unarmed. Excepting the man who will be with him, not one of his company shall be within a league."

"Where is the place?" asked De Berquin, still smiling ironically.

"Not far from here. It is a place where you can get also wine and food."

"And how am I to know that this place is not a trap into which you wish to lead me?"

"You shall walk behind me with drawn sword and dagger. At the slightest suspicious movement or speech that I make, you can easily kill me."

"That is true. Yet I might lose my own life the next moment. Who knows but that you are merely seeking to sell your life as dearly as possible, or but that you are aiming to gain time in the hope of some unexpected occurrence?"

"Monsieur," said I, "we both know that men cannot read the heart. You cannot be sure whether or not I am lying. You indeed take the risk that I wish to lead you where you will have to pay for my life with your own, and that I am trying to gain time; but, at the same time, there is the chance that I intend to keep my word, that I intend to present the Sieur de la Tournoire unarmed, and a league away from all his men but one. Is not that chance worth the risk? Have you not gambled, monsieur?"

From the shrug of De Berquin's shoulders, I knew that he had gambled, and also that my argument had moved him. But another doubt darkened his face.

"And if you do bring an unarmed person before me, how shall I know that it is La Tournoire?" said he.

"He shall tell you so himself."

"Excellent proof!"

"What man but La Tournoire would risk his life by declaring himself to be that proscribed gentleman?"

"One of his followers might do so, if he thought that he might so throw an enemy off La Tournoire's track."

"Then the possibility of my deceiving you on that point is but an additional risk you run, in return for the chance of your bagging the real game. Besides, I give you my word of honor that I will truly perform all that I promise."

"The word of a lackey!" said De Berquin, derisively.

"Have you not yourself described me as an exceptional lackey?"

"Well, I love to take chances. And as you have given me your word, the word of an exceptional lackey, I give you my word, the word of a gentleman, that if you set La Tournoire unarmed before me, with but one of his men at hand, I will give you your life and freedom. But stay! At what time am I to have the pleasure of meeting him?"

"When we hear the stroke of eight from the tower of the church in Clochonne. The wind this evening is from that direction. It is agreed, then?"

"Agreed!" said De Berquin. "Jacques, give me your dagger. Now, Master Lackey, lead the way. Follow, you rascals, and be ready to knock down any person to whom I shall direct your attention."

And I turned and led the way to the road, followed closely by De Berquin, who held his sword in one hand and the dagger in the other. I heard the others fall in line, and tramp their way through the brush behind him. Barbemouche must have been exceedingly surprised at his leader's proceedings, for the conversation between De Berquin and myself had been conducted in a tone too low for their ears.

When we reached the road, De Berquin ordered a halt. He then commanded Barbemouche to walk at my left side, and François to walk at my right, De Berquin retained his place behind me, and the other two rascals followed him. In this order we proceeded towards the inn.

My object in leading my enemies to the inn was to set them drinking. As long as the possibility of taking La Tournoire was before De Berquin, there was little likelihood that he would seek to molest Mlle. de Varion. In the first place, he could not take her from the vicinity while he himself remained there awaiting the coming of La Tournoire. Secondly, he would not court any violence during the time of waiting, lest he might thereby risk his chance of taking La Tournoire. But it was necessary that I should prevent his encountering Blaise or Hugo, for either one, on seeing me conducted by him as I was, might make some demonstration that would cause De Berquin to kill me immediately. I must contrive to keep my enemies from entering the inn, and yet to have them plied with drink. Therefore, I said, as we marched:

"Monsieur, we are approaching a kind of inn where there are to be obtained the food and drink that I promised. But in the house are some who are devoted to the Sieur de la Tournoire. They are not any of his soldiers, nor such as are to be feared in a fight. But if they saw you and your men, with me as a prisoner, they would certainly convey word to La Tournoire or his band, and so it would be impossible for me to fulfil my agreement. It is true that you would then kill me, but you would lose La Tournoire, and have his followers soon on your heels. So it is best that we stop at some distance from the inn. You and I can steal up to a spot where I can quietly summon the hostess. She will do anything I ask. She will, at my order, secretly bring food and wine to the place of waiting, and will not betray our presence to those in the inn."

"It seems a good idea," said De Berquin; "but if you attempt to make a fool of me--"

"You will, of course, instantly make a corpse of me, for you will be at my side, and will hear every word that I speak to the hostess."

"Very well," he replied.

Having at last reached a little clearing by the roadside quite near the inn, but hidden from it by trees, I gave the word to stop. De Berquin ordered his men to remain here, sheathed his sword, clutched me by the arm, and walked forward with me, his dagger held ready to be plunged into my heart at the slightest cause.

I led him to the back of the inn, and we stood near the door of the kitchen, listening.

The gypsy was still playing, and every now and then there came an exclamation of approval from Biaise. I peered through a corner of the window. The clutch of De Berquin on my arm tightened as I did so. I saw the gypsy man playing, Biaise and Hugo sitting with wine mugs before them, aid Godeau by the fire asleep, the gypsy girl with her head on the table, she also asleep, and Marianne removing platters from the table. Jeannotte had doubtless gone up the ladder to her mistress.

Presently Marianne came out with some bones of a fowl, to throw them away.

"Marianne," I called, softly. "Not a word! Come here and listen"

With some astonishment she obeyed. De Berquin now held his drawn dagger under his cloak, and his clutch on my arm, though tight, might yet appear to her that of a friend.

"Marianne," said I, "it is very important that no one within--no one, remember--shall know that this gentleman is with me. I have a serious matter to talk over with him at the clearing yonder, where four of his people now wait. No one is to know of their presence any more than of his. Bring plenty of wine to us there with what food you can get without exciting the curiosity of those inside. Do you understand? But not a word, even to me now."

She nodded her head, and went back into the kitchen. I knew that I could rely on her. "Come, monsieur," I whispered to De Berquin, and we went silently back to the clearing.

The four rascals were seated on the ground, conversing in low tones. De Berquin and I sat down in the midst of the group. The fellows went on talking, regardless of the presence of their leader, who gave no heed to their babble, except occasionally by a gesture to caution Barbemouche to lessen his volume of voice.

"I never knew an enterprise to run smoothly which had anything to do with women," Barbemouche was saying. "Where men only are concerned, one knows exactly what to do, and make no mistakes."

"You have a prejudice against the sex," put in the foppish fellow.

"_Par dieu_! I ought not to have!" answered Barbemouche. "I owe them too much for the many favors I've had from them. But they are mystifying creatures. To mistake a maid for her mistress is nothing remarkable. For that matter, I've known women of the lower orders who had more airs than great ladies. I remember once, after having just made an easy conquest of a countess, and become ennuied with her, I turned my attention to the daughter of a pastry-cook in Paris. She dug deep holes in my face for merely trying to kiss her. She had velvet lips, that girl, but what claws!"

The gaunt rascal, whom they called François, heaved a pensive sigh, as if this reminiscence awakened touching memories in him.

"And yet, to show the perversity of the sex," continued Barbemouche, "that same day I saw another man kiss her, and she gave him back two kisses for his one."

"Perhaps he was a handsome man," said the fat fellow, sagely.

"Yes," replied Barbemouche, ingenuously, "but no handsomer than I."

"At that time you were probably handsomer even than you are now," dryly observed the gaunt man.

"You are right," said Barbemouche, "for I was young, and I did not have this scar," and he thrust back the rim of his hat and laid his hand on his forehead.

"In what fight with the watch did you get that?" inquired François.

"I got it as the Duke of Guise got his, fighting the enemies of the church, though not in the same battle. I received mine that St. Bartholomew's night when we made the streets of Paris flow with heretic blood. A cursed Huguenot gave it me, but I gave him another to match mine, and left him for the crowd to trample over."

I gave a start, recalling the incident of which I had so recently heard the account, and which seemed the counterpart of this.

At this moment, Marianne appeared at the bend of the road. She carried a huge wooden platter, on which were a bowl of mulled wine, some mugs, and some cheese, bread, and scraps of cold meat. I afterward learned that she had begun to prepare this wine some time before, thinking that I and Blaise and the boys would want it after my return from my search for Pierre. Knowing Blaise's capacity, she had made ready so great a quantity.

Saying not a word, she set down the platter on the ground before me.

"That is well," I said. "Now go back to the inn and step often to the door, so that I can easily summon you again without attracting the attention of the others. And get more wine ready."

The woman nodded, and went back to the inn.

The four ruffians made an immediate onslaught on the platter. De Berquin and François ignored the food, that they might the sooner dip their mugs into the bowl of wine. The other three speedily disposed of all the eatables, and then joined in the drinking. De Berquin, in order to grasp his mug, had let my arm go, but he retained his dagger in his other hand, and each of his followers used but one hand in eating or drinking, holding a weapon in the other.

"Look you, rascals!" said De Berquin to his men, presently. "Be careful to keep your wits about you!"

"Rascals!" repeated the tall fellow, his pride awakened by his second mug of wine. "By the bones of my ancestors, it goes against me to be so often called rascal!"

Barbemouche saw an opportunity to retaliate for the fun that had been made of his pretensions to beauty. "They whom the term fits," he growled, "ought not to complain, if I endure it, who am a gentleman!"

Instantly the bearded giant was on his feet, with his huge sword poised in the air.

"Rascal yourself twice over, and no gentleman!" he cried, quivering with noble wrath.

"What, you lank scarecrow!" said Barbemouche, rising in his turn, and rushing to meet the other.

Their fat comrade now rose and thrust his sword between the two, for the purpose of striking up their weapons. The fop ran behind a tree, to be safe from the fracas.

At the instant when François was about to bring his great sword down on Barbemouche, and the latter was about to puncture him somewhere near the ribs, there came the sound of the Angelus, borne on the breeze from Clochonne. The two antagonists stood as if transformed into statues, their weapons in their respective positions of offence. Each in his way moved his lips in his accustomed prayer until the sound of the distant bell ceased.

"Now, then, for your dirty blood!" roared Barbemouche, instantly resuming animation.

But his fat comrade knocked aside Barbemouche's sword, and at the same time pushed François out of striking distance.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen," cried the fat rascal, reproachfully, "would you spoil this affair and rob me of my share of the pay? God knows we are all gentlemen, and rascals, too!"

"Very well," said Barbemouche, relieved by his brief explosion of wrath, "this matter can wait."

"I can wait as well as another man," said François, with dignity, whereupon both men resumed their seats on the turf and their attentions to the wine. The prudent Jacques returned to the circle, and De Berquin, who during the squabble had employed himself entirely in holding me from any attempt at escape, looked relieved.

The effect of the wine on him was to make him merry, so that he soon invited me to join in the drinking, and I made a pretense of doing so. When the bowl was empty, he went with me again to summon Marianne, which we easily did, as she was standing at the door awaiting my reappearance. She brought us another pot of wine, and left us as she had before done. De Berquin became more and more gaily disposed. He put no limit to the quantity imbibed by his men; yet he kept his eyes on me, and his dagger dangerously near my breast.

When we heard the clock in Clochonne strike seven, he said to his men:

"Straighten up, you dogs! In another hour we shall have work to do." Turning to me, he added, with a grin, "Either to chain that wild beast, La Tournoire, or to send the most entertaining of valets to find out whether all that they say of purgatory and hell is true."

But he soon became so lax under the influence of the wine that he did not heed when the fat man and the ragged dandy dropped off to sleep and mingled their snores with the murmurs of the forest insects. He began to narrate his adventures, amatory, military, bibulous, and other. Presently, for a jest, he drank the health of Henri of Navarre in return for my drinking that of the Pope.

By this time Barbemouche and gaunt François had added their breathings to the somnolent choir.

"You are a mighty drinker, monsieur," I said to De Berquin, admiringly, at the same time refilling my own mug.

"Ask of the cabaret keepers of Paris whether the Vicomte de Berquin can hold his share of the good red vine-juice!" he replied, jubilantly, dipping his mug again into the pot.

I took a gulp from my mug and pretended to choke. In one of my convulsive movements, I threw the contents of my mug into the eyes of De Berquin. I followed it an instant later with the mug itself, and he fell back on the grass, half-stunned. In the moment when his grasp of my arm was relaxed, I slipped away from him, narrowly missing the wild dagger stroke that he made at me. A second later and I was on my feet. My first act was to possess the weapons of Barbemouche and François, these two being nearest me. I then ran towards the inn, calling at the top of my voice, "Blaise! To arms!"

Behind me I heard De Berquin, who had risen, kicking the prostrate bodies of his men and crying:

"Up, you drunken dogs! We have been fooled! After him!"

Then I heard him running after me on the road, swearing terribly.

From the place where he had left his men, I could hear them confusedly swearing and questioning one another, all having been rudely awakened from sleep, two of them being unable to find their weapons, and none knowing rightly what had occurred or exactly where their leader had gone.

Blaise came running out of the inn, with sword drawn. When he had joined me, I stopped and turned to face De Berquin. He was before me ere I had time to explain to Blaise. In his rage, he made a violent thrust at me, which Blaise turned aside. De Berquin then leaped back, to put himself on guard.

At that instant, the first stroke of eight came from the distant tower of Clochonne.

"Filthy cur, you have lied to me!" cried De Berquin.

"Nay, monsieur," I answered, throwing from me the weapons of Barbemouche and François, "I keep my word. I promised you La Tournoire unarmed. Behold him!"

And I stepped out from beside Blaise and stood with open arms.

"La Tournoire!" repeated De Berquin, taking a backward step and staring at me with open mouth.

"La Tournoire!" came in a faint, horror-stricken voice from behind me.

I turned and beheld mademoiselle, who had come out from the inn on hearing my call for Blaise. With her were Hugo and Jeannotte. Behind were the inn-keepers and the gypsies. On mademoiselle's face, which was lighted by a torch that Hugo carried, was a death-like pallor, and such a look of horror, grief, and self-reproach, as I have never seen on any other human countenance.

"Mademoiselle!" I cried, hastening to her side. "What is the matter?"

"'Tis but--surprise,--M. de la Tournoire!" she answered, weakly, raising her hand feebly as if to keep me from approaching her, while her eyes, which were fixed on mine as by a terrible fascination, seemed to be starting from her head. An instant later, she fell in a swoon, and I was just in time to save her from striking the ground and to pillow her head on my arm.

As for De Berquin, he had made a rush at me, but Blaise had repulsed him with such fury that, seeing no hope of being joined by his men, he soon turned and fled.

I bore the senseless body of mademoiselle into the inn, vainly asking myself why she had shown so profound a distress at my disclosure.

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