For The Admiral Part 42

"We must show ourselves as fine as those popinjays of Anjou's," said Felix. "Fine feathers make fine birds in the eyes of the populace, and we must let them see that Huguenot gentlemen are a match for those of the king."

It was early morning of July 8, 1572, when about a dozen of us, all splendidly, though sombrely attired, rode out from the courtyard of the _Hotel Coligny,_ and, pa.s.sing quickly through the empty streets, proceeded to meet the princely cavalcade.

Henry's retinue formed a striking and impressive spectacle. He was attended by young Conde, the Cardinal of Bourbon, and our own beloved chief. Behind them rode eight hundred gallant gentlemen, all in mourning, the majority of whom had proved their zeal and devotion to the Cause on more than one battle-field. We saluted the chiefs, and took our places in the procession.

"I think even the Parisians will admit we do not make a very sorry show," remarked Felix as we rode along.

At the gates of St. Jacques we were met by Monseigneur at the head of fifteen hundred gorgeously attired hors.e.m.e.n. He greeted our leaders with elaborate ceremony, but, as far as I could judge, with little goodwill, and Catholics and Huguenots mingled together, forming one imposing body.

Young Conde and his brother, the Marquis, rode between Guise and the Chevalier d'Angouleme; Henry himself was placed between the king's brothers, Anjou and Alencon.

The streets were packed with dense crowds of citizens; every balcony was filled, and fair ladies sat watching from the open windows. Here and there men shouted l.u.s.tily for Monseigneur, but for Henry of Navarre there was no word of kindly welcome; we proceeded amidst a cold and chilling silence.

"This may be a royal welcome," laughed one of my neighbours, "'tis anything but a friendly one. Faith, I am beginning to think already that we shall have as much need of our swords in Paris as ever we had at Arnay-le-Duc."

"Bah!" cried Felix; "who wants the plaudits of a mob? These people are but puppets, and the strings are pulled by the priests."

"The citizens are hardly reconciled yet to the new order of things,"

remarked one of Monseigneur's gentlemen; "but the strangeness will soon wear off, and you will be as welcome in Paris as in Roch.e.l.le. It is not strange that at present Anjou is their favourite; you must give them time."

The speaker may have been right, but the hostile att.i.tude with which the citizens met us became stronger, when, having escorted the princes to the palace, we broke up into small groups and rode towards our various dwellings.

The sullen silence gave place to angry murmurs, and even to open threats, especially when we pa.s.sed the crosses and images at the corners of the streets without raising our hats.

"Well," I said, as, entering the courtyard of the hotel, we gave our animals to Jacques, "the king may desire the marriage, but it certainly does not meet with the approval of the citizens. In truth, now that to-day's ceremony is over, I am rather surprised to find myself alive."

"You are not the only one, Le Blanc," said De Guerchy, who was entering with us; "I expected every moment to hear a cry of 'Kill the Huguenots!'

They say a bad beginning often leads to a good ending; let us hope this will be a case in proof of it. But I wish the Admiral was in the midst of us!"

"There lies the danger," I said; "a pistol-shot or the stroke of a sword, and the streets of Paris will run with blood."

"They will," declared Felix fiercely, "if any harm happens to our leader!"

When I came to think about these things in after days, it seemed strange to remember how, through all the time of rejoicing and apparent friendliness, there ran an uneasy feeling, for which even Henry's chilling reception by the Parisians was not sufficient to account.

Our first thought in the morning and our last thought at night centred upon the Admiral's safety. Absolutely fearless, and placing unbounded confidence in the king's honesty, that chivalrous n.o.bleman behaved as if he were surrounded by loyal friends. He had consecrated his life to the welfare of France, and no thought of self could turn him aside from his duty.

His usual attendants were De Guerchy and Des Pruneaux, and with them he would set out from his residence to transact his business with the king at the Louvre. But, unknown to him, two of us always went a little ahead, while two followed closely in the rear. We carefully avoided drawing attention to ourselves, but our eyes sought every pa.s.ser-by and examined every window where an a.s.sa.s.sin might lurk.

Thus the time pa.s.sed between hopes and fears. There was little talk now of the war with Spain, and it began to be understood that the subject would not be pursued until after the marriage.

Being so fully occupied we saw little of Jeanne during these days, but one evening Felix and I started to pay her a visit. It was the first week in August, the day had been hot, and most of the citizens were out of doors seeking the cool air.

"One minute, monsieur!"

We were at the bottom of the steps in front of the Countess Guichy's hotel, but, recognizing the voice, I stopped and turned.

"Is it you, L'Estang?" I said.

"Hush! It would be as well to call me D'Angely. You have been followed here from the Rue de l'Arbre Sec. A strange man, now hiding on the other side of the road, has been watching you for these two days past. The populace have no love for a Huguenot gentleman."

"What is the fellow like?" I asked.

"He keeps himself well m.u.f.fled; he is about your own height and build; that is all I can discover. But I believe he has been hired by Cordel.

Take care not to expose yourself too freely."

"Many thanks," I said, as he disappeared.

"'Tis almost a pity," exclaimed Felix, "that you interfered with your peasants. You should have let them rid you of that rascally lawyer while they were in the mood."

"Nonsense!" I replied, "you are talking wildly. Of course there must be no word of this to Jeanne."

"I am not likely to alarm her!" he replied, and ran lightly up the steps.

The ladies were full of the approaching ceremony, and could talk of nothing but stomachers and brilliants and gold lace and such like stuff, without which they seemed to imply there could be no wedding at all. The countess, who had arranged for Jeanne to form one of the young bride's attendants, had been spending money lavishly on a wonderful dress, and she declared laughingly that when Henry saw my sister he would wish she could change places with Margaret; at which Felix remarked it would certainly show his good taste.

Jeanne laughed and blushed, calling him a flatterer, but she was very happy, and her eyes were sparkling with pleasure.

As our visit drew to a close, she contrived to whisper: "I have heard from your English friend. A messenger from La Roch.e.l.le brought me a letter yesterday. He is coming to see you shortly; he may be in France already."

"Oh," I replied, "unless he comes quickly he may have to travel as far as Flanders; that is," I added, slily "if he really wishes to see me."

"Of course he does," she answered gaily, "and to visit Paris; he has set his heart on seeing our capital."

Although very fond of Roger Braund, I felt, somehow, rather sorry to hear Jeanne's news, and, as we left the house, my comrade rallied me on my thoughtfulness.

"Come," said he briskly, "we must hurry; the Admiral does not like our being abroad so late," at which, remembering how persistently he had refused to leave earlier, I laughed heartily.

The streets were for the most part deserted; but in spite of the late hour it was not dark.

"Listen!" exclaimed Felix suddenly, "there is some one following us; he is coming at a quick pace, as if trying to overtake us. Perhaps it is your quixotic adventurer friend, with a further warning."

"No," I replied, "L'Estang is not so heavy; he is more cat-footed. 'Tis some belated wayfarer like ourselves, in a hurry to reach his lodgings."

The man caught us up, gave a surly growl in response to our "Good-night," and pa.s.sed on rapidly.

"'Tis plain that all the boors do not live in the country," remarked Felix, as the fellow disappeared. "I thought all Parisians were noted for their good breeding."

"Another mistake corrected, my friend. As we grow older--ah! After him, quick!"

A bullet had whizzed past my head, cutting, as I found later, the feather stuck jauntily in my hat--for we did not choose that Anjou's gentlemen should exhibit all the airs and graces. The shot was fired from a low entry, and before the noise of the report had died away Felix, who kept his wits wonderfully, darted inside.

In another instant I had joined him, and we raced together up the narrow court.

"There he is!" I cried; "ah, he is climbing the wall!"

Felix being the swifter runner drew ahead, but he was too late. The a.s.sa.s.sin, straddling the wall, struck him furiously with his arquebus, and my comrade fell. I bent over him in an agony of fright, but he struggled to his feet, saying, "It is all right, Edmond; he has raised a lump on my head, nothing more; but I fear he has escaped."

"Yes, we should only lose ourselves trying to follow him there. Are you sure you are not hurt?"