The Grey Cloak Part 41

"The Vicomte d'Halluys against the Comte d'Herouville, and Monsieur de Saumaise against De Leviston. D'Herouville and De Leviston are both in hospital."

"D'Herouville? What had he to do with the affair?"

"He laughed," said the governor; "he laughed when De Leviston accused your son of not knowing who his mother was."

"Thank you, Monsieur. I see that you are in great puzzle. Let me solve the puzzle for you. I have always been a man of quick and violent temper, and sometimes this temper has been that of the fool.

The wisest of us make mistakes. I have made a grievous one. In a moment of anger . . ." He ceased, taking up the stem of the broken gla.s.s and twirling it. "In a moment of anger, then, I did Monsieur le Comte a most grievous wrong, a wrong for which I can never fully atone.

We have never been on friendly terms since his refusal to wed a young woman of my choice, Mademoiselle de Montbazon. I had never seen this daughter, nor had my son. Paris life, Monsieur, as doubtless you know, is ruinous to youth. Monsieur le Comte was much in wine; he gambled recklessly. It was my desire to change his course, but I went at it either too late or bunglingly. In February he was exiled from court in disgrace. I have never ascertained the character of this disgrace.

One night in March we had an exchange of opinions. My faith, your Excellency, but that boy has a terrible tongue. There was not a place in my armor that he did not pierce. I shall not repeat to you the subject of our conversation. Suffice it to say that he roused the devil and the fool in me, and I told him that he had no right to his name. I am here to correct that wrong as much as lies within my power.

He did not give me an opportunity at home. It is not sentiment; it is my sense of justice that brings me here. And I truly admire the lad's spirit. To plunge into the wilderness without calculation; ah, well, it is only the fool who stops to weigh the hazards of fortune. The boy is my son, lawfully; and I want him to know it. I am growing old, and this voyage has written a shorter term for me."

"Monsieur," said De Lauson, "what you tell me makes me truly happy.

But I am afraid that you have destroyed the Chevalier's trust in humanity. If you ask me to judge you, I shall be severe. You have committed a terrible sin, unnatural and brutal, unheard of till now by me."

"I bow to all that," said the marquis. "It was brutal, cruel; it was all you say. But the fact remains that it is done and that a part of it must be undone."

"Your sense of justice does credit to a great n.o.ble like yourself.

Worldly reparation you may make, but you have wounded his heart and soul beyond all earthly reparation."

"The worldly reparation quite satisfies me," replied the marquis, fumbling with his lips. "As I observed, sentiment is out of the question. Monsieur le Comte would not let me love him if I would,"

lightly. "I wish to undo as much as possible the evil I have done. If he refuses to return to France, that is his affair, not mine. I shall be the last to urge him. This Monsieur de Saumaise is a poet, I understand."

"Who writes equally well with his sword."

"I should like to meet him. How long before De Leviston and D'Herouville will be out of hospital?"

"D'Herouville, any day; De Leviston has a bad fever, having taken cold."

The marquis had not acquired the habit of smoking, so the governor lit his pipe and smoked alone.

"Your Excellency, who is this handsome young priest who goes by the name of Brother Jacques; of what family?"

"That I do not know; no one knows; not even Father Chaumonot, who is his sponsor. The good Father picked him up somewhere in Italy and placed him in a convent."

"Monsieur le Comte, then, is at Three Rivers?"

"Yes; and to-morrow we shall set out for him; though he may return at any hour."

"I thank your Excellency. The Henri IV sails by next week, so I understand. I daresay that we both shall be on it. At any rate, I shall wait."

The door opened and Jehan, expressing as much excitement as his weather-beaten face made possible, stood before them.

"Well?" said the marquis.

"Monsieur le Comte is returned from Three Rivers, and is about to dine in the citadel."

"Tell a trooper that the presence of Monsieur le Chevalier is requested here at once. Do not let the Chevalier see you," and the governor rose and laid down his pipe. "I will leave the room at your service, Monsieur."

"It is very kind of you." If the marquis was excited, or nervous, there was nothing on his face to indicate it.

Jehan and the governor made their exits through opposite doors; and Monsieur le Marquis sat alone. Several minutes pa.s.sed. Once or twice the marquis turned his attention to his wine-soaked sleeve. Steps were heard in the corridor, but these died away in the distance. From time to time the old man's hand wandered to his throat, as if something was bothering him there. Time marked off a quarter of an hour. Then the door opened, and a man entered; a man bronzed of countenance, tall, and deep of chest. He wore the trapper's blouse and fringed leggings.

From where he stood he could not see who sat at the table.

"Come toward the light, Monsieur," said the marquis, "where I may see you to better advantage." The marquis rose and stood with the fingers of his right band pressing lightly on the table.

At the sound of that voice, the Chevalier's heart leaped. He strode forward quickly, and, leaning across the table, stared into his father's eyes.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE MASTER OF IRONIES

So they stood for some moments, the one with eyes glaring, the other with quiet scrutiny.

"It appears to agree with you here," began the marquis. There was not the slightest tremor in his voice.

"You?" said the son.

The marquis winced inwardly: that p.r.o.noun was so pregnant with surprise, contempt, anger, and indignation! "Yes, it is I, your paternal parent."

"And you could not leave me in peace, even here?" The son stepped, back and strained his arms across his chest.

"From your tone it would seem so." The marquis sat down. A fit of trembling had seized his legs. How the boy had changed in three months! He looked like a G.o.d, an Egyptian G.o.d, with that darkened skin; and the tilt of the chin recalled the mother.

"I had hoped never to look upon your face again," coldly.

The marquis waved his hand. "Life is a page of disappointments, with a margin of realized expectations which is narrow indeed. Will you not sit down?"

"I prefer to stand. It is safer for you with the table between us."

"Your sword was close to my heart one night. I made no effort to repulse it."

"Heaven was not quite ready for you, Monsieur."

"Heaven or h.e.l.l. There seems to be gall in your blood yet."

"Who put it there?" The Chevalier was making an effort to control his pa.s.sion.

"I put it there, it is true. But did you not stir a trifle too well?"

"Why are you here? What is your purpose?"

"I have been three months on the water; I have been without my accustomed canary and honey; I have dined upon salt meats till my tongue and stomach are parched like corn. Have you no welcome?"

The Chevalier laughed.

"They haven't tamed you, then?" The marquis drew circles in the spilled salt. "Have you become . . . great and respected?"