The Duke's Motto: A Melodrama Read online

Page 6


  V

  THE PARRY TO THE THRUST OF NEVERS

  There was a heavy stillness in the room when Lagardere came to the end ofhis tale. "This sounds serious," Cocardasse said, gloomily, and thoseabout him were gloomily silent.

  Lagardere resumed his story: "I pondered that thrust for a month. At lastI mastered it. I tried it on the Baron de Brissac with perfect success."

  A general laugh at this remark relieved the tension of the bravos'nerves. AEsop took advantage of the more cheerful atmosphere again toaddress Lagardere. "Matchless cavalier," he asked, with a wry assumptionof politeness, "would you show me that thrust you esteem so highly?"

  Lagardere looked at the speaker with a whimsical smile. "With pleasure,"he said, and drew his sword. AEsop did likewise, and while the bravos drewback towards the wall to allow a free space for the lesson the twoswordsmen came on guard. Lagardere explained while he fenced, naming eachfeint and lunge and circle of the complicated attack as he made it. Withthe last word of his steel-illuminated lecture his sword, that hadillustrated the words of the fencer, seemed suddenly to leap forward, aglittering streak of light.

  AEsop leaped back with a yell, and clapped his left hand to his forehead."Damnation!" he cried.

  Cocardasse, who had been following the proceedings with the keenestattention, hurried out of the circle of spectators. "Splendid!" he cried."What is the parry?"

  "It is as clear as day," Lagardere answered. "This is how the trick isdone," and again, as he spoke, his blade explained his text, gleaming andtwisting in the cunning evolutions of the riposte.

  Cocardasse, who had drawn his own sword, repeated Lagardere's words andparodied Lagardere's gestures faithfully. "I see," he said, and turned tothe others, who had lost nothing of the lesson. "Have you caught it,boys? It might serve--"

  Lagardere interrupted him, indifferent to the evil appreciation on thefaces of the spectators. "It will serve at once. I am going to try it onits master."

  "On Nevers?" queried Staupitz, hoarsely.

  Lagardere nodded. "On no less a man. I should have told you that Iplagued him until he promised me my revenge. When I was exiled I wrote toremind him." Lagardere drew a letter from his breast and held it up for amoment before returning it to its lodging. "In this letter he accepts mychallenge, names the time, the place--"

  Cocardasse interrupted: "What time?"

  "To-night at ten," Lagardere replied.

  "The place?" asked Passepoil.

  "The moat of Caylus," Lagardere answered. He pointed to the window atwhich AEsop had been sitting so long. "You can see it from that window."

  There was a general look of astonishment on the faces of all the bravos.Passepoil, quick with his Norman caution, glanced at Staupitz and thegroup about him, and put his finger cautiously to his lips.

  Cocardasse was still inquisitive. "Why there?" he questioned.

  Lagardere explained, amiably: "Because such is the good duke's pleasure.When I sent him my cartel I made it plain that I had little time on myhands, as I was anxious, on account of the king's fire-new zeal againstduelling, to cross the frontier as speedily as might be. I knew the dukewas staying on his estates near by, and I suggested, with a fine show ofgravity, that possibly his highness was acquainted with some quiet placein the neighborhood of the Castle of Caylus where we might settle ourlittle difference. Oh, the words were solemnly couched, but I swear toyou that I laughed heartily when I wrote them."

  Lagardere laughed again in memory of that former mirth as he made an endof speaking. Cocardasse scratched an ear and glanced at Passepoil.Passepoil scratched an ear and glanced at Cocardasse. The rest of thebravos stared with a sullen curiosity at Lagardere, who paid no heed totheir gaze.

  "Why did you laugh?" Cocardasse asked, after a short pause.

  Lagardere answered him affably: "Because I knew that my allusion toCaylus would fret my excellent enemy. There is, it seems, a beauty hiddenin that gloomy castle, Gabrielle de Caylus, whom my duke adores in spiteof the ancient feud between the two houses of Caylus and Nevers. Itshould please him to fight under the eyes of his lady love, whom I canconsole if I win."

  The idea seemed to please Lagardere, for he again began to laugh softlyto himself after he had finished speaking. But Cocardasse did not seem tothink it was a laughing matter, for his voice was almost solemn as heasked: "Did you speak of the lady in your letter to Nevers?"

  Lagardere interrupted his mirth to reply: "Of course. The situation is sohumorous. I suggested playfully that there was a lovely princessimprisoned in the castle of a wicked old ogre named Caylus, and I hintedthat if things turned out as I hoped, I might be fortunate enough tocarry solace and freedom to the captive damsel." He paused for a momentand then asked in wonder: "Why do you pull such long faces?"

  For, indeed, the faces of the swashbucklers were almost funereal in theirsolemnity. Passepoil, relying upon his Norman cunning, took it uponhimself to explain a ticklish situation. "It is lucky we are here tohelp you," he said, knowingly.

  Lagardere's laughter became more pronounced. "To help me?" he cried, andhe shook with amusement at the absurdity of the words.

  Passepoil insisted: "It's no laughing matter. Nevers is the lady'shusband."

  He spoke with a portentous solemnity against which Lagardere protested,laughing louder than before. "On the contrary, it is more laughable thanever. A secret marriage. A romance. Perhaps I shall have to soothe awidow when I hoped to woo a maid."

  "Better have a sword or two to back you," Cocardasse suggested,cunningly.

  Lagardere frowned. "No, thank you. I do my own fighting."

  Passepoil whispered, insinuatingly: "Could I help to carry off thelady?"

  Lagardere's frown deepened. "No, thank you. I do my own love-making.Clear out and leave me alone. That is all I want of you, my friends."

  Cocardasse sighed. "I'd do anything in the world to oblige you, but--" Hepaused and looked helplessly at his former pupil, whom his falteringspeech, his hesitating manner began to anger.

  "But what?" said Lagardere, sharply.

  Cocardasse made an apologetic gesture. "Every man to his trade. We alsoare waiting for some one."

  Lagardere raised his eyebrows. "Indeed, and that some one?"

  The bravos looked at one another uneasily, trying to seem devil-may-careand failing wofully. Nobody appeared to want to speak. At last Passepoilspoke. "That some one is Louis de Nevers," he said, and wished heartilythat he did not have to say it.

  Lagardere at first appeared to be puzzled by the answer. Then the fullmeaning of it seemed to fall upon him like a blow, and his face blazed atthe insult. "Nevers! You! Ah, this is an ambuscade, and I have sat atdrink with assassins!"

  Cocardasse protested: "Come, captain, come."

  Lagardere's only answer was to spring back clear of the nearest swordsmenand to draw his sword again. The bravos gathered together angrily aboutStaupitz, buzzing like irritated bees.

  Lagardere flung his comely head back, and his bright eyes flamed with aroyal rage. His words came quick and clear in his anger: "It was for thisyou sought to learn Nevers's thrust, and I--Oh, it would make the godslaugh to think that I taught it to you! You have the best of the joke sofar, excellent assassins, but if any one of you touches a hair ofNevers's head he will find that the joke is two-edged, like my sword. IfNevers must die, it shall be in honorable battle and by my hands, but notby yours, while Lagardere lives."

  AEsop commented, sneeringly: "Lagardere is not immortal."

  Staupitz grunted, angrily: "Shall one man dictate to nine?" and made anappealing gesture to his comrades, inciting them against their censor.

  Lagardere faced their menaces with the contemptuous indifference withwhich a mastiff might have faced as many rats. He commanded, imperiously:"Pack off, the whole gang of you, and leave Nevers to me!"

  The bravos still buzzed and grumbled: Cocardasse rubbed his chinthoughtfully; Passepoil pinched his long nose. The situation was becomingcritical. Lagardere was Lagardere, but he was
only one man, after all, ina narrow room, against great odds. Truly, the odds would be diminished ifthe quarrel came to actual blows, for Cocardasse was resolved, and heknew that Passepoil was resolved also, to side with Lagardere in such anemergency. But even with the situation thus altered the result could onlybe unnecessary bloodshed, which would be bad, for, if Lagardere was theirdear Little Parisian, the others were also their comrades. Further, itwould mean the postponing, probably the abandonment, of their enterpriseagainst Nevers, which would be much worse. Cocardasse plucked the Normanto him with a strong finger and thumb, and whispered in his ear: "Get theboys away and shift the keys."

  Passepoil nodded, and glided discreetly among the bravos huddled togetherat the table, whispering the words of Cocardasse in the ears of each.

  Lagardere frowned at this mystery. "What are you whispering?" he asked,angrily.

  Cocardasse explained, plausibly. "Only that if you wanted to keep Neversto yourself--"

  Passepoil interrupted, concluding: "It mattered little who did the job."

  By this time the bravos, who at the beginning of the quarrel had unhookedtheir rapiers from the wall, were now pulling their cloaks about them andmaking for the main door. The Italian, the Breton, the Spaniard, theBiscayan, and the Portuguese filed out into the passage, followed byAEsop, who turned to pay Lagardere a mocking salutation and to say,tauntingly: "So good-night, gallant captain."

  Staupitz, with an air of surly carelessness, sauntered down to the onlyother door in the room, the door that led to the domestic offices of theInn. While he did so, Cocardasse held out his hand to Lagardere in signof amity, but Lagardere refused it. "I am no precisian," he said. "I havekept vile company. I would not deny my hand to a hang-man. But the mosttolerant philosopher has his dislikes, and mine are assassins."

  Cocardasse sighed, and made for the main door, followed by Passepoil, whosaid, wistfully, "Adieu, Little Parisian," a greeting of which Lagarderetook no notice.

  Now, while AEsop had been saying his taunting farewell to Lagardere he hadbeen standing with his back to the door, and with his left hand haddexterously abstracted the key. Also, while Cocardasse had beenendeavoring to gain a clasp of the hand from Lagardere, Staupitz hadquietly locked the door leading to the kitchen and put that key in hispocket. Now Staupitz, Cocardasse, and Passepoil went in their turnthrough the main door and drew it behind them.

  Lagardere seated himself at the table with a sigh of relief as he heardthe heavy feet trampling down the passage, but his relief did not lastlong. His quick ears caught a sound that was undoubtedly the click of akey in a lock, followed by the shuffle of cautiously retiring feet. Heinstantly sprang to his feet, and, rushing to the main door, caught atthe handle and found the door firmly locked.

  "Damn them!" he cried; "they have locked the door." Then he began toshout, furiously, calling first upon Cocardasse, and then upon Passepoilby name to open the door immediately, knowing these two to be his friendsamong the gang of rascals. But no answer came to his cries, and, vigorousthough he was, his efforts had no effect upon the solid strength of thedoor. Turning, he hurried to the door which led to the kitchen and triedthat, only to find that it, too, was locked against him, and that it,too, was impregnable. He looked about him hurriedly. He knew it was nouse calling for the people of the Inn, who would be sure to side withtheir truculent customers, and he knew also that, if he did not succeedin making his escape from the trap into which he had blundered, Neverswould be murdered.

  He rushed to the window and looked out. The sight was not pleasing. Therugged rock on which the Inn was perched dropped beneath him thirty feetto the moat below, and, though his eyes eagerly scanned the face of thecliff, he could see no possibility, even for one so nimble as himself, ofclimbing down it successfully. To jump such a height would be to end as ajelly and be of no service to Nevers. For a few wild moments he cursedhis folly in having been deluded by the bravos, and then his native highspirits and his native humor came to his assistance, reminding him thathe always made it his business to look upon the diverting side of life,and that it was now clearly his duty to seek for the entertainingelements of the present predicament. Undoubtedly, these were hard tofind. The jest was decidedly a bitter one, and could only be turned tohis taste if he succeeded in getting out. But how was he to succeed? Hetried the door again, despairingly and unsuccessfully as before. Hereflected that perhaps there might be a rope in the room, and anxiouslyhe looked in every corner. No rope was to be found.

  Clapping his hands to his sides in his vexation at being thus baffled, hetouched the soft substance of his silken sash, and instantly an ideakindled at the touch. "Perhaps this will do," he thought, and hurriedlyproceeded to unwind it. It was a long sash, for it went from his shoulderto his waist and then three times round his middle, where it was tied ina large bow with long ends. It was at least fifteen feet long, and astough as any hemp that was ever twisted. He fastened one end of itquickly round a bar in the window, and let the long crimson streamer dropdown the side of the cliff. Using this as a means of descent, it wouldbring him half-way down the rock. Hanging by his arms, he would covermuch of the remaining distance, and the drop thence to the ground wouldbe easy. In another moment he was outside the window, and, grasping thesilk firmly in his strong fingers, began his perilous descent.