The Grey Cloak Part 20

"Forty thousand livres?" gasped the soldier. "You have lost a fortune, then?" annoyed.

"Yes; and more than that, I have lost the source from which they came, these forty thousand livres. I see that you are mystified. Perhaps you will learn in the morning how I came to lose this fortune. Will you accept my sword?"

"Monsieur," answered Du Puys, "you are in wine. Come to me in the morning; you will have changed your mind."

"And if not?"

"Then I shall give you a place in the company. But, word of honor, I do not understand . . ."

"It is not necessary that you should. The question is, is my past record as a soldier sufficient?"

"Your courage is well known, Monsieur."

"That is all. Good night, Major. I shall sign your papers at nine to-morrow."

Du Puys returned to his party. They asked questions mutely.

"Father," he said to Chaumonot, "here is a coil. Monsieur le Chevalier du Cevennes, son of the Marquis de Perigny, wishes to sign for Quebec."

The Vicomte d'Halluys lifted his head from his arms. But none took notice of him.

"What!" cried Brother Jacques. "That fop? . . . in Quebec?"

"It is as I have the honor of telling you," said Du Puys. "There is something going on. We shall soon learn what it is."

The Vicomte d'Halluys rose and came over to the table. "Do I understand you to say that the Chevalier is to sign for Quebec?" His tone possessed a disagreeable quality. He was always insolent in the presence of churchmen.

"Yes, Monsieur," said Du Puys. "You were with him to-night. Perhaps you can explain the Chevalier's extraordinary conduct? He tells me that he has lost forty thousand livres to-night."

"He has, indeed, lost them." The vicomte seemed far away in thought.

"Forty thousand livres?" murmured Brother Jacques. He also forgot those around him. Forty thousand livres, and he had never called one hundred his own!

"Monsieur," repeated the major, "can you account for the Chevalier's strange behavior?"

"I can," said the vicomte, "but I refuse. There are looser tongues than mine. I will say this: the Chevalier will never enter his father's house again, either here, in Paris, or in Perigny. There is hot blood in that family; it clashed to-night; that is all. Be good to the Chevalier, Messieurs; let him go to Quebec, for he can not remain in France."

"Has he committed a crime?" asked Du Puys anxiously.

"No, Major," carelessly, "but it seems that some one else has."

"And the Chevalier is s.h.i.+elding him?" asked Brother Jacques.

The vicomte gazed down at the young Jesuit, and smiled contemptuously.

"Is he s.h.i.+elding some one, you ask? I do not say so. But keep your Jesuit ears open; you will hear something to-morrow." Noting with satisfaction the color on Brother Jacques's cheeks, the vicomte turned to Captain Bouchard. "I have determined to take a cabin to Quebec, Monsieur. I have some land near Montreal which I wish to investigate."

"You, Monsieur?" said the sailor. "The only cabin-room left is next to mine, and expensive."

"I will pay you in advance. I must go to Quebec. I can not wait."

"Very well, Monsieur."

The vicomte went to the door of the private a.s.sembly and knocked boldly. Victor answered the summons.

"D'Halluys?" cried Victor, stepping back.

"Yes, Monsieur. Pardon the intrusion, but I have something to say to Monsieur le Chevalier."

He bared his head, looked serenely into Victor's doubting eyes, and turned to the Chevalier, whose face was without any sign of welcome or displeasure. "Monsieur," the vicomte began, "it is very embarra.s.sing--Patience, Monsieur de Saumaise!" for Victor had laid his hand upon his sword; "my errand is purely pacific. It is very embarra.s.sing, then, to approach a man so deeply in trouble as yourself.

I know not what madness seized you to-night. I am not here to offer you sympathy; sympathy is cheap consolation. I am here to say that no man shall in my presence speak lightly of your misfortune. Let me be frank with you. I have often envied your success in Paris; and there were times when this envy was not unmixed with hate. But a catastrophe like that to-night wipes out such petty things as envy and hate."

"Take care, Monsieur," said Victor haughtily. He believed that he caught an undercurrent of raillery.

"Why, Monsieur, what have I said?" looking from one to the other.

"Proceed, Vicomte," said the Chevalier, motioning Victor to be quiet.

He was curious to learn what the vicomte had to say.

"To continue, then: you are a man of extraordinary courage, and I have always admired you even while I envied you. To-night I lost to you some fifty pistoles. Give me the happiness of crossing out this trifling debt," and the vicomte counted out fifty golden pistoles which he laid on the table. There was no particle of offense in his actions.

"To prove to you my entire good will, I will place my life into your keeping, Monsieur le Chevalier. Doubtless Saumaise has told you that at present Paris is uninhabitable both to himself and to me. The shadows of the Bastille and the block cast their gloom upon us. We have conspired against the head of the state, which is Mazarin. There is a certain paper, which, if seen by the cardinal, will cause the signing of our death warrants. Monsieur de Saumaise, have you any idea who stole your cloak?"

"It was not my cloak, Monsieur," said Victor, with a frown; "it was loaned to me by Monsieur le Chevalier."

"Yours?" cried the vicomte, turning to the Chevalier.

"Yes." The Chevalier thoughtfully fingered the golden coin. One slipped through his fingers and went jangling along the stone of the floor.

"I was wondering where I had seen it before. Hang me, but this is all pretty well muddled up. There was a traitor somewhere, or a coward.

What think you, Saumaise; does not this look like Gaston of Orleans?"

Victor started. "I never thought of him!"

"Ah! If Gaston has that paper, France is small, Monsieur," said the vicomte, addressing the Chevalier, "I learn that you are bound for Quebec. Come, Saumaise; here is our opportunity. Let the three of us point westward."

Victor remained silent. As oil rises to the surface of water, so rose his distrust. He could not shut out the vision of that half-smile of the hour gone.

"Monsieur," said the Chevalier, looking up, "this is like you. You have something of the Bayard in your veins. It takes a man of courage to address me, after what has happened. I am become a pariah; he who touches my hand loses caste."

"Bah! Honestly, now, Chevalier, is it not the man rather than the escutcheon? A trooper is my friend if he has courage; I would not let a coward black my boots, not if he were a king."

"If ever I have offended you, pray forgive me."

"Offended me? Well, yes," easily. "There was Madame de Flavigny of Normandy; but that was three years ago. Such affairs begin and end quickly. My self-love was somewhat knocked about; that was all. If the weather permits, the Saint Laurent will sail at one o'clock. Till then, Messieurs," and bowing gravely the vicomte retired.

Both Victor and the Chevalier stared, at the door through which the vicomte vanished. Victor frowned; the Chevalier smiled.

"Curse his insolence!" cried the poet, slapping his sword.