In the Irish Brigade Part 10

"And now, sir, that the king has expressed his grat.i.tude to you, for saving his court from a grave scandal, how can I fitly express my own, at the inestimable service that you have rendered us?"

"I should say, Baron, that it will be most welcomely expressed, if you will abstain from saying more of the matter. It is a simple one. I went to the a.s.sistance of a woman in distress; and succeeded, at the expense of this trifling wound, in accomplishing her rescue. The lady happened to be your daughter, but had she been but the daughter of some little bourgeois of Paris, carried off by a reckless n.o.ble, it would have been the same. Much more has been made of the matter than there was any occasion for. It has gained for me the approbation and thanks of the king, to say nothing of this ring, which, although I am no judge of such matters, must be a very valuable one, or he would not have worn it; and I have had the pleasure of rendering a service to you, and Mademoiselle de Pointdexter. Therefore, I feel far more than duly rewarded, for a service somewhat recklessly undertaken on the spur of the moment."

"That may be very well, as far as it interests yourself, Monsieur Kennedy; but not so far as I am concerned, and I fear I shall have to remain your debtor till the end of my life. All I can say at present is that I hope that, as soon as you can obtain leave, you will come as a most honoured guest to my chateau. There you will see me under happier circ.u.mstances. The life of a country seigneur is but a poor preparation for existence in this court, where, although there is no longer the open licentiousness that prevailed in the king's younger days, there is yet, I believe, an equal amount of profligacy, though it has been sternly discountenanced since Madame Maintenon obtained an absolute, and I may say a well-used, influence over His Majesty."

"I shall be happy, indeed, to pay you a visit, Baron, if my military duties will permit my absenting myself, for a time, from Paris. All I know of France is its capital, and nothing would give me greater pleasure than to have the opportunity of seeing its country life, in so pleasant a manner."

"Our pleasure would be no less than your own, Monsieur Kennedy.

"There is one thing I must warn you about, and that is, you must be careful for a time not to go out after dark. De Tulle has an evil reputation, and is vindictive as well as unscrupulous.

Doubtless, he has agents here who will, by this time, have discovered who it was that brought his daring scheme to naught; and it is, to my mind, more than probable that he will endeavour to be revenged."

"I shall be on my guard," Desmond said quietly.

"You must be careful, indeed," the baron said. "Against open violence you can well defend yourself, but against a blow from behind with a dagger, skill and courage are of little avail. When you go out after dark, I pray you let your army servant follow closely behind you, and see that his sword is loose in its scabbard."

Desmond nodded.

"Believe me, I will take every precaution. It is not likely that there will long be need for it, for none can doubt that military operations will soon begin on a large scale, and we are not likely, if that is the case, to be kept in garrison in Paris."

When Desmond arrived that evening at the barracks, he found that the story of the rescue of Mademoiselle de Pointdexter was already known, and also that the Vicomte de Tulle had been the abductor, and had, in consequence, been banished from court. The baron had indeed related the circ.u.mstances to some of his intimate friends, but the story had varied greatly as it spread, and it had come to be reported that an officer had brought a strong body of soldiers, who had a.s.saulted the house where she was confined, and, after a desperate conflict, had annihilated the guard that had been placed over her.

Desmond laughed, as this story was told to him, when he entered the room where the officers were gathered. The narrator concluded:

"As you have been to Versailles, Kennedy, doubtless you will have heard all the latest particulars. Have you learnt who was the officer, what regiment he belonged to, and how came he to have a body of soldiers with him, outside the town? For they say that the house where she was confined was a mile and a half beyond the walls."

There was no longer any reason for concealment. The matter had become public. The baron would certainly mention his name, and indeed his visit to the palace, and the private audience given to him and the baron, would a.s.suredly have been noted.

"Your story is quite new to me," he said, "and is swollen, in the telling, to undue proportions. The real facts of the case are by no means so romantic. The truth of the story, by this time, is generally known, as Mademoiselle Pointdexter and her father have many friends at court. The affair happened to myself."

"To you, Kennedy?" was exclaimed, in astonishment, by all those present.

"Exactly so," he said. "Nothing could have been more simple. The evening before last I was, as usual, taking a walk and, the night being fine, I pa.s.sed beyond the gate. Presently, I heard a scream and a woman's cry for help. None of you, gentlemen, could have been insensible to such an appeal. Callaghan and I climbed over a pretty high gate. Not knowing what force there might be in the place, we occupied ourselves, at first, by unbarring and shooting the lock of the gate. The bolts were stiff, and we made some noise over it, which brought out five men. These we disposed of, after a short fight, in which I got this graze on the cheek, and Callaghan his sword wound in the shoulder."

"How did you dispose of them, Kennedy?" the colonel asked.

"I ran two of them through. Callaghan cut down one, and shot another. The fifth man cried for mercy, and we simply tied him up.

"We then found Mademoiselle Pointdexter, and, learning from her that the carriage in which she had been brought there was, with its horses, still in the stable, we got it out, harnessed the horses, and put an old woman who was mademoiselle's attendant in the carriage with her. Mike took the reins, I mounted a saddle horse, and we drove her to her father's house at Versailles, saw her fairly inside, and then, as you know, got back here just as the regiment was forming up on parade."

"A very pretty adventure, indeed," the colonel said warmly, and loud expressions of approbation rose from the other listeners.

"And why did you not tell us, when you came in?" the colonel went on.

"I had not seen Baron Pointdexter, and did not know what course he would take--whether he would think it best to hush the matter up altogether, or to lay a complaint before the king; and, until I knew what he was going to do, it seemed to me best that I should hold my tongue, altogether.

"When I went to Versailles, today, I found that he had laid his complaint before the king, and that the Vicomte de Tulle, who was the author of the outrage, had been ordered to his estates. I may say that I had the honour of a private interview with His Majesty, who graciously approved of my conduct, and gave me this ring," and he held out his hand, "as a token of his approval."

"Well, gentlemen, you will agree with me," the colonel said, "that our young ensign has made an admirable debut, and I am sure that we are all proud of the manner in which he has behaved; and our antic.i.p.ations, that he would prove a credit to the regiment, have been verified sooner than it seemed possible."

"They have, indeed, Colonel," the major said. "It was, in every way, a risky thing for him to have attempted. I do not mean because of the odds that he might have to face, but because of the trouble that he might have got into, by forcing his way into a private house. The scream might have come from a mad woman, or from a serving wench receiving a whipping for misconduct."

"I never thought anything about it, Major. A woman screamed for help, and it seemed to me that help should be given. I did not think of the risk, either from armed men inside--for I had no reason to believe that there were such--or of civil indictment for breaking in. We heard the cry, made straight for the house, and, as it turned out, all went well."

"Well, indeed," the colonel said. "You have rescued a wealthy heiress from a pitiable fate. You have fleshed your maiden sword in the bodies of two villains. You have earned the grat.i.tude of the young lady and her father, and have received the approval of His Majesty--a very good night's work, altogether. Now, tell us a little more about it."

Desmond was compelled to tell the story in much further detail than before. The colonel ordered in a dozen of champagne, and it was late before the party broke up.

"You see, we were pretty nearly right in our guess," O'Neil said, as he and O'Sullivan walked across with Desmond to their quarters.

"We said that we thought it likely she might have been carried off by one of the court gallants, who felt tolerably confident that, if successful, the king would overlook the offence. This fellow, thanks to your interference, did not succeed; and the king has let him off, lightly enough, by only banishing him from court. If it had been anyone but one of his favourites, he would, by this time, have been a tenant of the Bastille.

"I do not think, myself, that his punishment was adequate; but then, I am not a courtier, and should be rather glad than not, to be sent away to any estates I might have."

"But," Desmond remarked, "I suppose the punishment is a severe one to these men, accustomed to a round of pleasure and dissipation, and who consider it the highest of earthly honours to be in favour with the king. However, no one could be kinder than His Majesty has been, on the subject. At the reception last night, at which he ordered the baron and his daughter to appear, he showed her the most marked favour, and particularly put a stop to all scandals, by saying loudly that de Tulle had never seen her, after the first morning of her capture."

Six days later, when Desmond was engaged in the fencing room, Callaghan came in, and told him that a gentleman was at his quarters, wishing particularly to see him.

"What is his name?"

"Sure, and I don't know, your honour. He did not mention it, and it was not for the likes of me to ask him."

"Ridiculous, Mike! In future, when anyone comes and wishes to see me, you will say, 'What name shall I tell Mr. Kennedy?'"

He put on his uniform coat reluctantly, for he was engaged in an interesting bout with a professor, who was an old friend of the maitre d'armes. As he entered his room, a young man, who had been staring out of the window, and drumming impatiently with his fingers, turned. He was a stranger to Desmond.

"I am Desmond Kennedy, sir," the young officer said. "To what do I owe the honour of this visit?"

The other did not reply, but stood looking at him, in so strange and earnest a way, that Desmond felt almost uneasy.

"Sir," his visitor said at last, advancing to him and holding out both hands, "when I tell you that my name is Philip de la Vallee, you will understand what must strike you as my singular behaviour.

I arrived last night at Versailles, and heard all that had happened. You can imagine, therefore, that my heart is almost too full for words, with grat.i.tude and thankfulness."

Desmond was moved by the emotion of his visitor, and their hands met in a hearty clasp. Monsieur de la Vallee was a young man, of four or five and twenty, well proportioned, and active and sinewy from his devotion to field sports. He was about the same height as Desmond himself, but the latter, who had not yet finished growing, was larger boned, and would broaden into a much bigger and more powerful man.

"Henceforth, Monsieur Kennedy," de la Vallee went on, "I hope that we shall be as brothers, and more. Had it not been for you, my life would have been a ruined one. What agony have I been saved!

It makes me mad, to think that I was idling at home, ignorant that my beloved had been carried away. I do not blame the baron for not informing me, and I acknowledge that the reasons he gave me were good ones. I could have done nothing, and should but have added to his troubles by my anxiety and anger. Still, he told me that, in another day or two, he would have felt that I ought no longer to be kept in the dark, and would have summoned me to Paris. I am thankful now that he did not do so, for I believe that my impotence to do anything would have driven me almost to distraction."

"I agree with you that the baron acted wisely," Kennedy said. "Had not chance, or Providence, taken me past the house where she was imprisoned, at the very moment when Mademoiselle Pointdexter cried for help, she might, for aught I can say, have remained a captive there for months, or even years."

"It was Providence, indeed, Monsieur Kennedy. Providence, not only that she should have cried at that moment, but that her cries should have reached the ears of one so ready and able to save her.

And now, I pray you, call me Philip, and allow me to call you Desmond, as a pledge of our close friendship."

"With pleasure," Kennedy replied; and the compact was sealed with another close grasp of the hand.

"It is strange, Desmond, that while the king, who had but little interest in the matter, could present you, as I am told he did, with a diamond ring, the baron and I, who owe you so much, can do nothing to show our grat.i.tude."

Desmond smiled.

"I can a.s.sure you that I need no such tokens," he said. "The thanks that I have received, from you both, are infinitely more grateful to me than any amount of rings and jewels."