The House of the Wolf - Stanley Weyman (black male authors .txt) 📗

arms, similar to mine, and that they all moved with a businesslike air, as if bound for some rendezvous.

I was not a fool, though I was young, and in some matters less quick than Croisette. The hints which had been dropped by so many had not been lost on me. "There is more afoot to-night than you know of!" Madame d'O had said. And having eyes as well as ears I fully believed it. Something was afoot. Something was going to happen in Paris before morning. But what, I wondered. Could it be that a rebellion was about to break out? If so I was on the king's service, and all was well. I might even be going--and only eighteen--to make history! Or was it only a brawl on a great scale between two parties of nobles? I had heard of such things happening in Paris. Then--well I did not see how I could act in that case. I must be guided by events.

I did not imagine anything else which it could be. That is the truth, though it may need explanation. I was accustomed only to the milder religious differences, the more evenly balanced parties of Quercy, where the peace between the Catholics and Huguenots had been welcome to all save a very few. I could not gauge therefore the fanaticism of the Parisian populace, and lost count of the factor, which made possible that which was going to happen--was going to happen in Paris before daylight as surely as the sun was going to rise! I knew that the Huguenot nobles were present in the city in great numbers, but it did not occur to me that they could as a body be in danger. They were many and powerful, and as was said, in favour with the king. They were under the protection of the King of Navarre--France's brother-in-law of a week, and the Prince of Conde; and though these princes were young, Coligny the sagacious admiral was old, and not much the worse I had learned for his wound. He at least was high in royal favour, a trusted counsellor. Had not the king visited him on his sick-bed and sat by him for an hour together?

Surely, I thought, if there were danger, these men would know of it. And then the Huguenots' main enemy, Henri le Balafre, the splendid Duke of Guise, "our great man," and "Lorraine," as the crowd called him--he, it was rumoured, was in disgrace at court. In a word these things, to say nothing of the peaceful and joyous occasion which had brought the Huguenots to Paris, and which seemed to put treachery out of the question, were more than enough to prevent me forecasting the event.

If for a moment, indeed, as I hurried along towards the river, anything like the truth occurred to me, I put it from me. I say with pride I put it from me as a thing impossible. For God forbid--one may speak out the truth these forty years back--God forbid, say I, that all Frenchmen should bear the blood guiltiness which came of other than French brains, though French were the hands that did the work.

I was not greatly troubled by my forebodings therefore: and the state of exaltation to which Madame d'O's confidence had raised my spirits lasted until one of the narrow streets by the Louvre brought me suddenly within sight of the river. Here faint moonlight bursting momentarily through the clouds was shining on the placid surface of the water. The fresh air played upon, and cooled my temples. And this with the quiet scene so abruptly presented to me, gave check to my thoughts, and somewhat sobered me.

At some distance to my left I could distinguish in the middle of the river the pile of buildings which crowd the Ile de la Cite, and could follow the nearer arm of the stream as it swept landwards of these, closely hemmed in by houses, but unbroken as yet by the arches of the Pont Neuf which I have lived to see built. Not far from me on my right--indeed within a stone's throw--the bulky mass of the Louvre rose dark and shapeless against the sky. Only a narrow open space--the foreshore--separated me from the water; beyond which I could see an irregular line of buildings, that no doubt formed the Faubourg St. Germain.

I had been told that I should find stairs leading down to the water, and boats moored at the foot of them, at this point. Accordingly I walked quickly across the open space to a spot, where I made out a couple of posts set up on the brink--doubtless to mark the landing place.

I had not gone ten paces, however, out of the shadow, before I chanced to look round, and discerned with an unpleasant eerie feeling three figures detach themselves from it, and advance in a row behind me, so as the better to cut off my retreat. I was not to succeed in my enterprise too easily then. That was clear. Still I thought it better to act as if I had not seen my followers, and collecting myself, I walked as quickly as I could down to the steps. The three were by that time close upon me--within striking distance almost. I turned abruptly and confronted them.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" I said, eyeing them warily, my hand on my sword.

They did not answer, but separated more widely so as to form a half-circle: and one of them whistled. On the instant a knot of men started out of the line of houses, and came quickly across the strip of light towards us.

The position seemed serious. If I could have run indeed--but I glanced round, and found escape in that fashion impossible. There were men crouching on the steps behind me, between me and the river. I had fallen into a trap. Indeed, there was nothing for it now but to do as Madame had bidden me, and play the man boldly. I had the words still ringing in my ears. I had enough of the excitement I had lately felt still bounding in my veins to give nerve and daring. I folded my arms and drew myself up.

"Knaves!" I said, with as much quiet contempt as I could muster, "you mistake me. You do not know whom you have to deal with. Get me a boat, and let two of you row me across. Hinder me, and your necks shall answer for it--or your backs!"

A laugh and an oath of derision formed the only response, and before I could add more, the larger group arrived, and joined the three.

"Who is it, Pierre?" asked one of these in a matter-of-fact way, which showed I had not fallen amongst mere thieves.

The speaker seemed to be the leader of the band. He had a feather in his bonnet, and I saw a steel corslet gleam under his cloak, when some one held up a lanthorn to examine me the better. His trunk-hose were striped with black, white, and green--the livery as I learned afterwards of Monsieur the King's brother, the Duke of Anjou, afterwards Henry the Third; then a close friend of the Duke of Guise, and later his murderer. The captain spoke with a foreign accent, and his complexion was dark to swarthiness. His eyes sparkled and flashed like black beads. It was easy to see that he was an Italian.

"A gallant young cock enough," the soldier who had whistled answered; "and not quite of the breed we expected." He held his lanthorn towards me and pointed to the white badge on my sleeve. "It strikes me we have caught a crow instead of a pigeon!"

"How comes this?" the Italian asked harshly, addressing me. "Who are you? And why do you wish to cross the river at this time of night, young sir?"

I acted on the inspiration of the moment. "Play the man boldly!" Madame had said. I would: and I did with a vengeance. I sprang forward and seizing the captain by the clasp of his cloak, shook him violently, and flung him off with all my force, so that he reeled. "Dog!" I exclaimed, advancing, as if I would seize him again. "Learn how to speak to your betters! Am I to be stopped by such sweepings as you? Hark ye, I am on the King's service!"

He fairly spluttered with rage. "More like the devil's!" he exclaimed, pronouncing his words abominably, and fumbling vainly for his weapon. "King's service or no service you do not insult Andrea Pallavicini!"

I could only vindicate my daring by greater daring, and I saw this even as, death staring me in the face, my heart seemed to stop. The man had his mouth open and his hand raised to give an order which would certainly have sent Anne de Caylus from the world, when I cried passionately--it was my last chance, and I never wished to live more strongly than at that moment--I cried passionately, "Andrea Pallavicini, if such be your name, look at that! Look at that!" I repeated, shaking my open hand with the ring on it before his face, "and then hinder me if you dare! To-morrow if you have quarterings enough, I will see to your quarrel! Now send me on my way, or your fate be on your own head! Disobey--ay, do but hesitate--and I will call on these very men of yours to cut you down!"

It was a bold throw, for I staked all on a talisman of which I did not know the value! To me it was the turn of a die, for I had had no leisure to look at the ring, and knew no more than a babe whose it was. But the venture was as happy as desperate.

Andrea Pallavicini's expression--no pleasant one at the best of times--changed on the instant. His face fell as he seized my hand, and peered at the ring long and intently. Then he cast a quick glance of suspicion at his men, of hatred at me. But I cared nothing for his glance, or his hatred. I saw already that he had made up his mind to obey the charm: and that for me was everything. "If you had shown that to me a little earlier, young sir, it would, maybe, have been better for both of us," he said, a surly menace in his voice. And cursing his men for their stupidity he ordered two of them to unmoor a boat.

Apparently the craft had been secured with more care than skill, for to loosen it seemed to be a work of time. Meanwhile I stood waiting in the midst of the group, anxious and yet exultant; an object of curiosity, and yet curious myself. I heard the guards whisper together, and caught such phrases as "It is the Duc d'Aumale."

"No, it is not D'Aumale. It is nothing like him."

"Well, he has the Duke's ring, fool!"

"The Duke's?"

"Ay."

"Then it is all right, God bless him!" This last was uttered with extreme fervour.

I was conscious too of being the object of many respectful glances; and had