The Chevalier d'Auriac Part 7

'_Morbleu!_ It is well that Madame de Beaufort has not set eyes on Auriac--eh, Jacques?' and I laughed as I saw the huge grey outlines of Anet rising in the foreground, and thought how secure my barren, stormbeaten rock was from the rapacity of the King's mistress.

Jacques came of a rugged race, and my words roused him.

'But M. le Chevalier would never let Auriac fall into the hands of the King or his Madame? We could man the tower with a hundred stout hearts and----'

'Swing on the gibbet at the castle gates in two weeks, Jacques. But remember, we are loyal subjects now, and are going to Paris to serve the King.'

'As for me,' answered Jacques, obstinately, 'I serve my master, the Chevalier de Breuil d'Auriac, and none besides.'

In this manner we jogged along, making but slow progress, and the sun was setting when we came in view of the willow-lined banks of the Eure, and entered the walnut groves of the outlying forest in which Ezy lay. As we approached we saw that the village was three parts deserted, and the ruined orchards and smokeless chimneys told their own tale. Turning a bend of the gra.s.s-grown road we came upon a few children shaking walnuts from a tree, about two hundred paces from us, whilst a man and a woman stood hard by observing them. At the sight of us the woman turned to the man with an alarmed gesture, and he half drew a sword--we saw the white flash, and then, changing his mind, ran off into the forest. The children followed suit, sliding down the trunk of the tree, and fleeing into the brushwood, looking for all the world like little brown rabbits as they dashed into the gaps in the thorn.

As for the woman, she turned slowly and began to walk towards the village.

'They are very bashful here, Jacques,' I said, quickening my pace.

'Except the lady, monsieur,' and then we trotted up alongside her.

Reining in, I asked if she could direct me to the blacksmith's, for there seemed no sign of a forge about. She made no answer but stopped and stared at us through her hair, which fell in thick ma.s.ses over her forehead and neck. As she did this I saw that she appeared to be of the superior peasant cla.s.s, but evidently sunk in poverty. She was young, and her features so correct that with circ.u.mstances a little altered she would have been more than ordinarily good-looking. At present, however, the face was wan with privation, and there was a frightened look in her eyes. I repeated my question in as gentle a tone as I could command, and she found tongue.

'There is none here, monsieur; but at Anet you will find everything.

That is the way, see!' and she pointed down a winding glade, lit up here and there with bars of sunlight until it faded into a dark tunnel of over-arching trees. I felt convinced from her tone and manner that she was trying to put us off, and Jacques burst in.

'Nonsense, my girl, I know there is a smith at Ezy, for but two days back one of Madame of Bidache's horses was shod here. You don't know your own village--try and think.'

'There is none,' she said shortly.

'Very well,' said Jacques, 'we won't trouble you further, and we will find out for ourselves. It will not be difficult.'

We went on a pace or so, when she called out after us.

'Monsieur!'

'What is it?'

She stood twisting the ends of her ap.r.o.n between her fingers and then, suddenly,

'Monsieur, pardon, I will guide you.'

'Oh! that is all very well,' began Jacques; but I interrupted him, wondering a little to myself what this meant.

'Very well and thanks.'

She dropped a courtesy, and then asked with a timid eagerness,

'Monsieur does not come from the Blaisois?'

'_Ma foi!_ No! This is hardly the way from the Orleannois; but lead on, please, it grows late.'

She glanced up again, a suspicion in her eyes, and then without another word went on before us. We followed her down the winding gra.s.s-grown lane, past a few straggling cottages where not a soul was visible, and up through the narrow street, where the sight of us drove the few wretched inhabitants into their tumble-down houses, as if we had the plague itself at our saddle bows. Finally we stopped before a cottage of some pretensions to size; but decayed and worn, as all else was in this village, which seemed but half alive. Over the entrance to the cottage hung a faded signboard, marking that it was the local hostelry, and to the right was a small shed, apparently used as a workshop; and here the smith was, seated on a rough bench, gazing into s.p.a.ce.

He rose at our approach and made as if he would be off; but his daughter, as the young woman turned out to be, gave him a sign to stay, and he halted, muttering something I could not catch; and as I looked at the gloomy figure of the man, and the musty inn, I said out aloud, '_Morbleu!_ But it is well we have time to mend our trouble and make Rouvres; thanks, my girl, you might have told us at once instead of making all this fuss,' and bending from the saddle I offered our guide a coin. She fairly s.n.a.t.c.hed at it, and then, colouring up, turned and ran into the inn. I threw another coin to the smith and bade him set about shoeing the horse.

He shuffled this way and that, and then answered dully that he would do the job willingly, but it would take time--two hours.

'But it will be night by then,' I expostulated, 'and I have to go on; I cannot stay here.'

'As monsieur chooses,' answered the clod; 'but, you see, I have nothing ready, and I am slow now; I cannot help it.'

'This is a devil of a place,' I exclaimed, resigning myself to circ.u.mstances, and, dismounting, handed the reins to Jacques. As I did so I heard voices from the inn, one apparently that of the girl, and the other that of a man, and it would seem that she was urging something; but what it was I could not catch, nor was I curious as to the point of discussion; but it struck me that as we had to wait here two hours it would be well to inquire if I could get some refreshment for ourselves and a feed for the beasts. For answer to my question I got a gruff 'Go and ask my daughter,' from the smith, who turned as he spoke and began to fumble with his tools. I felt my temper rising hotly, but stayed my arm, and bidding Jacques keep an eye on the horses, stepped towards the door of the inn. As I put my hand on it to press it open some one from within made an effort to keep it shut; but I was in no mood to be trifled with further, and, pus.h.i.+ng back the door without further ceremony, stepped in. In doing so I thrust some one back a yard or so, and found that it was the girl who was trying to bar me out. Ashamed of the violence I had shown, I began to apologise, whilst she stood before me rubbing her elbow, and her face flushed and red. The room was bare and drear beyond description. There were a couple of rough tables, a chair or so, an iron pot simmering over a fire of green wood whose pungent odour filled the chamber. In a corner a man lay apparently asleep, a tattered cloak drawn over his features so as to entirely conceal them. I felt in a moment that this was the stranger who had fled on our approach, and that he was playing fox. Guessing there was more behind this than appeared, but not showing any suspicions in the least, I addressed the girl.

'I am truly sorry, and hope you are not hurt; had I known it was you I should have been gentler. I have but come to ask if I can get some wine for ourselves and food for the horses.'

'It is nothing,' she stammered, 'I am not hurt. There is but a little soup here, and for the horses--the gra.s.s that grows outside.'

'There is some wine there at any rate,' and I rested my eye on a horn cup, down whose side a red drop was trickling, and then let it fall on the still figure in the corner of the room. 'There is no fear,' I continued, 'you will be paid. I do not look like a gentleman of the road, I trust?'

She shrank back at my words, and it appeared as if a hand moved suddenly under the cloak of the man who lay feigning sleep in the room, and the quick movement was as if he had clutched the haft of a dagger. I was never a brawler or bl.u.s.terer, and least of all did I wish to worry these poor people; but the times were such that a man's safety lay chiefly in himself, for the writ of the King ran weak in the outlying districts. The whole business, too, was so strange that I was determined to fathom it; and, unbuckling my sword, I placed it on a table so as to be ready on the instant, and then, seating myself on a stool beside it, said somewhat sharply,

'Enough, my girl; get me some wine and take out some to my servant.

This will pay for it,' and I rang a fat crown piece on the table.

'Hurry your father if you can, and I will be gone the moment my horse is shod.'

My tone was one not to be denied, and taking up the money she turned to a cupboard and with shaking fingers drew a bottle therefrom and placed it before me. Filling a cup I asked her to bear it out to Jacques, and then leaning back against the wall took a pull at my own goblet, and judge of my surprise when I found I was tasting nothing short of d'Arbois of the '92 vintage!

As I sipped my wine, and speculated how it came there, the girl came back, and seeing that matters were as before began to attend to her cooking. Whatever she had said to the smith apparently had the effect of rousing him to greater activity, for through the open door I heard the puffing of his bellows, and very soon came the clang, clang of his hammer as he beat out a shoe.

It was getting dark now within the room, over which the flames of the fire occasionally blazed up and cast a fitful and uncertain light.

Outside, however, there was a moon; and, in a few minutes at the most, my horse would be shod and I would have to continue my journey without having discovered what this little mystery meant. I could not help being a little amused at the manner in which my bashful friend, whose face was so well covered up, kept himself a prisoner in his corner.

But at this moment the girl's cooking was finished, and the savoury odour of it was apparently more than he could endure, for he suddenly sprang to his feet exclaiming,

'_Nom du diable!_ I am sick of this, and hungry as a wolf. Give me my supper, Marie, and if he wants to take me let him do so if he can; he will have to fight an old soldier first.'

As he spoke I distinctly saw his hand indicate me, and with an alarmed cry the girl sprang between us. It flashed upon me that my gentleman was, after all, only some one who was wanted, and that he regarded me with as much apprehension as I had regarded him with caution.

'Tus.h.!.+' I said, 'you good people make a great fuss over nothing. I certainly do not want to take you, my man, and neither you nor your little sweetheart here need be in the least alarmed.'

I had hardly finished speaking when he rushed forward.

'It is the Chevalier! It is Monsieur d'Auriac! Idiot, turkey, pig that I am to have kept my eyes shut and not recognised you. Monsieur, do you not know me--Nicholas--your sergeant, whom you saved from the rope?'

'Where you appear likely to go again, Nicholas; but what are you skulking about here for?' The wood in the fireplace blazed up as I spoke, and I saw Nicholas s.h.i.+ft uneasily and look at the girl, who had moved to his side, and stood with her hands holding on to his cloak.

'This place was my home once, monsieur,' he said bitterly, 'and I have come back to it.'

'I see you have, sergeant; but why in this way?'

'Monsieur, I was driven to straits and did a thing. Then they hunted me from Dreux to Rouvres, from Rouvres to Anet----'