A Ladder of Swords Part 8

"Lord! Lord! Lord! hear this vast infant, this hulking baby of a seigneur, this primeval innocence! Listen to him, cousin," said the Queen, turning again to the Duke's Daughter. "Was ever the like of it in any kingdom of this earth? He chooses a penniless exile--he, a butler to the Queen, with three dove-cotes and the perquage--and a Huguenot withal. He is refused; then comes the absent lover oversea, to shipwreck; and our seigneur rescues him, 'fends him; and when yon master exile is in peril, defies his Queen's commands"--she tapped the papers lying beside her on the table--"then comes to England with the lady to plead the case before his outraged sovereign, with an outlawed buccaneer for comrade and lieutenant. There is the case, is't not?"

"I swore to be her friend," answered Lempriere, stubbornly, "and I have done according to my word."

"There's not another n.o.bleman in my kingdom who would not have thought twice about the matter, with the lady aboard his ship on the high seas--'tis a miraculous chivalry, cousin," she added to the Duke's Daughter, who bowed, settled herself again on her velvet cushion, and looked out of the corner of her eyes at Lempriere.

"You opposed Sir Hugh Pawlett's officers who went to arrest this De la Foret," continued Elizabeth. "Call you that serving your Queen?

Pawlett had our commands."

"I opposed them but in form, that the matter might the more surely be brought to your Majesty's knowledge."

"It might easily have brought you to the Tower, man."

"I had faith that your Majesty would do right in this, as in all else. So I came hither to tell the whole story to your judicial Majesty."

"Our thanks for your certificate of character," said the Queen, with amused irony. "What is your wish? Make your words few and plain."

"I desire before all that Michel de la Foret shall not be returned to the Medici, most radiant Majesty."

"That's plain. But there are weighty matters 'twixt France and England, and De la Foret may turn the scale one way or another. What follows, beggar of Rozel?"

"That Mademoiselle Aubert and her father may live without let or hindrance in Jersey."

"That you may eat sour grapes ad eternam? Next?"

"That Buonespoir be pardoned all offences and let live in Jersey on pledge that he sin no more, not even to raid St. Ouen's cellars of the muscadella reserved for your generous Majesty."

There was such humor in Lempriere's look as he spoke of the muscadella that the Queen questioned him closely upon Buonespoir's raid; and so infectious was his mirth as he told the tale that Elizabeth, though she stamped her foot in a.s.sumed impatience, smiled also.

"You shall have your Buonespoir, seigneur," she said; "but for his future you shall answer as well as he."

"For what he does in Jersey Isle, your commiserate Majesty?"

"For crime elsewhere, if he be caught, he shall march to Tyburn, friend," she answered. Then she hurriedly added: "Straightway go and bring mademoiselle and her father hither. Orders are given for their disposal. And to-morrow at this hour you shall wait upon me in their company. I thank you for your services as butler this day, Monsieur of Rozel. You do your office rarely."

As the seigneur left Elizabeth's apartments he met the Earl of Leicester hurrying thither, preceded by the Queen's messenger.

Leicester stopped and said, with a slow, malicious smile, "Farming is good, then--you have fine crops this year on your holding?"

The point escaped Lempriere at first, for the favorite's look was all innocence, and he replied: "You are mistook, my lord. You will remember I was in the presence-chamber an hour ago, my lord. I am Lempriere, Seigneur of Rozel, butler to her Majesty."

"But are you, then? I thought you were a farmer and raised cabbages."

And, smiling, Leicester pa.s.sed on.

For a moment the seigneur stood pondering the earl's words and angrily wondering at his obtuseness. Then suddenly he knew he had been mocked, and he turned and ran after his enemy; but Leicester had vanished into the Queen's apartments.

The Queen's fool was standing near, seemingly engaged in the light occupation of catching imaginary flies, buzzing with his motions. As Leicester disappeared he looked from under his arm at Lempriere. "If a bird will not stop for the salt to its tail, then the salt is d.a.m.ned, Nuncio; and you must cry _David!_ and get thee to the quarry."

Lempriere stared at him swelling with rage; but the quaint smiling of the fool conquered him, and, instead of turning on his heel, he spread himself like a Colossus and looked down in grandeur. "And wherefore cry _David!_ and get quarrying?" he asked. "Come, what sense is there in thy words when I am wroth with yonder n.o.bleman?"

"Oh, Nuncio, Nuncio, thou art a child of innocence and without history. The salt held not the bird for the net of thy anger, Nuncio; so it is meet that other ways be found. David the ancient put a stone in a sling, and Goliath laid him down like an egg in a nest--therefore, Nuncio, get thee to the quarry. Obligato, which is to say Leicester yonder, hath no tail--the devil cut it off and wears it himself. So let salt be d.a.m.ned, and go sling thy stone!"

Lempriere was good-humored again. He fumbled in his purse and brought forth a gold-piece. "Fool, thou hast spoken like a man born sensible and infinite. I understand thee like a book. Thou hast not folly, and thou shall not be answered as if thou wast a fool. But in terms of gold shalt thou have reply." He put the gold-piece in the fool's hand and slapped him on the shoulder.

"Why now, Nuncio," answered the other, "it is clear that there is a fool at court, for is it not written that a fool and his money are soon parted? And this gold-piece is still hot with running 'tween thee and me."

Lempriere roared. "Why, then, for thy hit thou shalt have another gold-piece, gossip. But see"--his voice lowered--"know you where is my friend, Buonespoir the pirate? Know you where he is in durance?"

"As I know marrow in a bone I know where he hides, Nuncio; so come with me," answered the fool.

"If De Carteret had but thy sense we could live at peace in Jersey,"

rejoined Lempriere, and strode ponderously after the light-footed fool, who capered forth, singing:

"Come hither, O come hither, There's a bride upon her bed; They have strewn her o'er with roses, There are roses 'neath her head: Life is love and tears and laughter, But the laughter it is dead-- Sing the way to the valley, to the valley!-- Hey, but the roses they are red!"

IX

The next day at noon, as her Majesty had advised the seigneur, De la Foret was ushered into the presence. The Queen's eye quickened as she saw him, and she remarked with secret pleasure the figure and bearing of this young captain of the Huguenots. She loved physical grace and prowess with a full heart. The day had almost pa.s.sed when she would measure all men against Leicester in his favor; and he, knowing this clearly now, saw with haughty anxiety the gradual pa.s.sing of his power, and clutched futilely at the vanishing substance. Thus it was that he now spent his strength in getting his way with the Queen in little things. She had been so long used to take his counsel--in some part wise and skilful that when she at length did without it or followed her own mind, it became a fever with him to let no chance pa.s.s for serving his own will by persuading her out of hers. This was why he had spent an hour the day before in sadly yet vaguely reproaching her for the slight she put upon him in the presence-chamber by her frown, and another in urging her to come to terms with Catherine de Medici in this small affair--since the Frenchwoman had set her revengeful heart upon it--that larger matters might be settled to the gain of England. It was not so much that he had reason to destroy De la Foret as that he saw that the Queen was disposed to deal friendly by him and protect him. He did not see the danger of rousing in the Queen the same unreasoning tenaciousness of will upon just such lesser things as might well be left to her advisers. In spite of which he almost succeeded, this very day, in regaining, for a time at least, the ground he had lost with her. He had never been so adroit, so brilliant, so witty, so insinuating; and he left her with the feeling that if he had his way concerning De la Foret--a mere stubborn whim, with no fair reason behind it--his influence would be again securely set. The sense of crisis was on him.

On Michel de la Foret entering the presence the Queen's attention had become riveted. She felt in him a spirit of mastery yet of unselfish purpose. Here was one, she thought, who might well be in her household or leading a regiment of her troops. The clear, fresh face, curling hair, direct look, quiet energy, and air of n.o.bility--this sort of man could only be begotten of a great cause; he were not possible in idle or prosperous times.

Elizabeth looked him up and down, then affected surprise. "Monsieur de la Foret," she said, "I do not recognize you in this attire"--glancing towards his dress.

De la Foret bowed, and Elizabeth continued, looking at a paper in her hand: "You landed on our sh.o.r.es of Jersey in the robes of a priest of France. The pa.s.sport for a priest of France was found upon your person when our officers in Jersey made search of you. Which is yourself--Michel de la Foret, soldier, or a priest of France?"

De la Foret replied, gravely, that he was a soldier and that the priestly dress had been but a disguise.

"In which papist attire, methinks, Michel de la Foret, soldier and Huguenot, must have been ill at ease--the eagle with the vulture's wing. What say you, monsieur?"

"That vulture's wing hath carried me to a safe dove-cote, your gracious Majesty," he answered, with a low obeisance.

"I'm none so sure of that, monsieur," was Elizabeth's answer, and she glanced quizzically at Leicester, who made a gesture of annoyance.

"Our cousin, France, makes you to us a dark intriguer and conspirator, a dangerous weed in our good garden of England, a 'troublous, treacherous violence'--such are you called, monsieur."

"I am in your high Majesty's power," he answered, "to do with me as it seemeth best. If your Majesty wills it that I be returned to France, I pray you set me upon its coast as I came from it, a fugitive. Thence will I try to find my way to the army and the poor, stricken people of whom I was. I pray for that only, and not to be given to the red hand of the Medici."

"Red hand--by my faith, but you are bold, monsieur!"

Leicester tapped his foot upon the floor impatiently, then caught the Queen's eye and gave her a meaning look.

De la Foret saw the look and knew his enemy, but he did not quail.

"Bold only by your high Majesty's faith, indeed," he answered the Queen, with harmless guile.

Elizabeth smiled. She loved such nattering speech from a strong man.

It touched a chord in her deeper than that under Leicester's finger.