Orrain Part 11

Trotto coughed. "But the risk, excellency, is greatly increased now that this man is mixed up in the affair."

Simon straightened himself in his chair and looked at the captain.

"I suppose you want more money. Well, what is your plan?"

"With your excellency's permission I will keep that to myself, for a plan is a plan when one head holds it. But if I were to place your prize in your hands by tomorrow morning?"

"Impossible!"

"But I say it is possible."

"Then five hundred crowns the day you reach Paris."

Trotto shook his head. "It could be done for a thousand, excellency--for certain."

Simon's eyes seemed to sink back deeper into their hollow sockets, and his face became paler, if possible.

"A thousand devils! Impossible! It's a fortune!"

"Your excellency is playing for a fortune; and this time we win--faith of a gentleman! Make it a thousand crowns, and your bonny bird is yours with the dawn, and I will myself perform the wedding ceremony if you like."

"You?"

"Yes, excellency," and Trotto put his hand to the crown of his head.

"My hair has grown, but, you will remember, I am none the less a priest for all that."

There was another silence. Simon knitted his brow, as if in thought.

Then he cursed again at his wounded arm, and spoke:

"It is an exorbitant sum; but I agree on one condition."

"And that is?"

"If you fail you get nothing; you have sucked enough from me already."

"As your excellency pleases." And then, bending for an instant over the wounded arm: "He must have been a rare swordsman to have beaten you."

Simon writhed in his chair. "Beaten me! I had the dog at my mercy, but was not quick enough in the last parry."

"Ah, excellency, 'tis always that little delay that causes accidents like this." And Trotto made a gesture towards the wounded arm; but Simon snarled at him:

"Don't touch it, fool! Ugh! how it stings! There is one consolation, however--that he must be squirming himself with pain now."

"Eh! Then you touched him?"

"Twice, Trotto, twice!"

"Ah! that accounts for his wearing his cloak so tightly over his left shoulder."

Simon started: "Wearing his cloak so tightly! Have you seen him?"

Torquato nodded, and the Vidame went on impatiently: "Are you dreaming, or am I? You have not been out of the house."

"But, excellency, benighted travellers might seek the house for rest and a guide to the ford of the Mable." At these words a red flush came over Simon's face, and he half rose from his chair.

"Here, here!" he exclaimed, his voice almost cracking with excitement--"here!--in Le Jaquemart! My sword, Trotto--quick!" And he shivered with pain as he attempted to stand; but Torquato made him sit back, and when he had succeeded told him what is already known.

"And so," he concluded, "Malsain has by this time disposed of the lackey, and La Marmotte is keeping the other birds amused until my return. When it is all settled," and Trotto laughed, "your excellency may make ready for the wedding, and La Marmotte will make a rare bridesmaid." With these words he bowed, and went to the door, but stopped at Simon's voice.

"Trotto!"

"Excellency!"

"Be sure, and fail not!"

"With a wounded man? Be happy, excellency! 'Twill be all over by midnight. I will have it done before Aramon returns, to save sharing the crowns. Good-night."

"Trotto!"

The captain put his head back through the door, and Simon said:

"Call me when 'tis over. I would see the carrion ere we put it away."

Trotto nodded, and closing the door left Simon of Orrain, full of stinging pains in his body and burning evil thoughts in his soul, and returning to us led the way to the supper-table. There, whilst we sat, mademoiselle told them of her peril, and how she was rescued, and as she concluded Trotto set down the cup of wine he was tasting, and turning to me, said:

"I congratulate you, monsieur. I trust, however, that your wounds do not hurt you?"

"Wounds!" exclaimed mademoiselle. "You are hurt, and you have said never a word! Why did you not tell me? You must have them seen to at once." And she rose from her seat. La Marmotte following her example, and Trotto added his voice to hers, and was thanked with a look.

"It is nothing. There is some mistake. I have but a scratch that will keep till the morning."

"But I insist," said mademoiselle. And Trotto put in with his soft voice: "Mademoiselle, I am something of a leech, and will see to monsieur's hurt at once." And then with a look at La Marmotte: "Perhaps mademoiselle would like to repose until my men return. I expect them every moment, and we could then arrange for your safe pa.s.sage."

And just at this moment, through the open window that looked out upon the balcony, there came a scrambling noise, and the ivy outside shook and rustled, as though a heavy body were forcing its way through it.

Trotto gave a quick glance over his shoulder, stepped out of the window, on to the balcony, and looked around him, whilst I took the opportunity to urge on mademoiselle to go and rest. I did so with the object of having Trotto alone for a little with me, and to test the situation. As I spoke La Marmotte looked at me with warning in her eyes, and her lips, which had paled under their paint, moved as if she were about to form some words, but could not speak. Ere matters could proceed further, however, Trotto came in, with a laugh. "There is nothing there," he said. "It must have been a cat; the wild cats here grow to enormous size." And then taking up a candlestick he continued: "I will myself see mademoiselle to her apartment." But La Marmotte spoke now.

"Mademoiselle comes to my room. There is none other ready."

The captain bowed and smiled. "I will light you there then," he said, and led the way to the door. As they went out La Marmotte, who was last, dropped her handkerchief, and stooping to recover it made a warning gesture to me; but I stared vacantly to my front.

As soon, however, as the door closed behind them, and I heard their footsteps along the gallery, I pulled out the white mask, and lifting the cover of a dish placed the mask within the dish and put back the cover. Then drawing my sword I laid it between my knees, and, resuming my seat, poured out some wine, and awaited Messire Torquato Trotto's return. It was a fortunate thing that the wild cats of Fontevrault were so large and heavy; and it was equally fortunate that Messire Trotto, ex-priest, and now bandit or freelance, was aware of the fact, else, perhaps, he might have examined the ledge that projected below the parapet, and seen there an animal which, though large and heavy, was of a different kind to the grey, striped prowlers of the forest.

He would, in fact, have seen Pierrebon, who after vainly trying to get at Piero un.o.bserved had determined to warn me, and succeeded with much difficulty in making his way thus far.

Through the screen of the ivy Pierrebon watched us in the room, and when I was alone he was about to step in at once, when he saw my actions, and guessed that I too was on the alert.

"Good!" he thought, "he knows too. I had better wait here till I am wanted. Ah! that is just the place!" Rising slowly, he climbed over the parapet, and, with his arquebus ready, leaned up against the wall, so that by moving his head slightly forward he could see into the room.

The night was warm and clear. A light breeze stirred the ivy, and shook the leaves of the old lime, by whose aid Pierrebon had made his ascent. Within I sat at the table, my cloak unclasped, now sipping my wine, now gently touching with my finger the dark patch on my sleeve near my shoulder. Without, Pierrebon stood on guard in the black shadow. Down below, Piero began to sing, as only men of his country can, and the deep ba.s.s voice, with all its liquid Italian words, pealed melodiously into the night.