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And then it was as if G.o.d Himself took the scales from my eyes, and I fell on my knees before my King.
He raised me gently. 'Monsieur, I thank you. Had I for one moment led a soul to suspect that I believed in you from the first, this nest of traitors had never been found. St. Gris--even Sully was blinded. So far so good. It is much for a King to have gained a friend, and hark!
if I am not mistaken, here is de Vitry.'
CHAPTER XX
AT THE SIGN OF 'THE TOISON D'OR'
Turning, we beheld de Vitry at the open door, the small and narrow figure of Pantin at his elbow, and, close behind, the stern features of the Grand-Master, the anxiety on whose face cleared as he saw the King before him. He was about to speak, but Henry burst in rapidly:
'I know all, my lord. It is time to act, not talk. _Arnidieu!_ But I shall long remember this frolic!'
'It would seem that G.o.d has given us a great deliverance. Sire. All is ready. I came but to see that your Majesty was safe and unharmed, and to leave Du Praslin with a sufficient guard for your person whilst we took our prisoners.'
As Sully spoke the King threw his roquelaure over his arm and answered coldly, 'Monsieur, you are very good. When I want a guard I shall ask for one. I have yet to learn that Henri de Bourbon is to lurk in a corner whilst blows are going, and I shall lead the a.s.sault myself!'
'And the first shot from a window, fired by some _croquemort_, might leave France at the feet of Spain, I cut in bluntly, whilst de Vitry stamped his foot with vexation, and the forehead of the Grand-Master wrinkled and furrowed, though he gave me an approving look from under his s.h.a.ggy brows.
For a moment it was as if my words would have stayed the King. He looked at me fixedly and stabbed at the carpet with the point of his blade, repeating to himself, 'At the feet of Spain--Spain! Never!' he added, recovering himself and looking highly around. 'Never!
Messieurs, we shall all yet see the lilies flaunting over the Escorial.'
'Amen!' exclaimed a voice from the darkness of the stairway, and I heard the grinding of a spurred heel on the woodwork of the floor.
'Come,' said the King, 'we have no time to lose, and if we delay longer that hot-head de Belin, will strike the first blow.'
'With your Majesty's permission, I will make an a.s.sault on the rear,'
I said.
'On the rear!' exclaimed de Vitry, whilst the Grand-Master said, 'It is impossible!'
But I only pointed to the window, and Henry laughed.
'_Ventrebleu!_ I understand--a great idea! But, monsieur, take care how you give away a secret. I shall have no peace if Monseigneur the Grand-Master hears what has happened.'
I was young enough still to feel my face grow hot at the approval in the King's voice, and then, without another word, they pa.s.sed out, _tramp_, _tramp_, down the stairs, all except Sully, who stayed behind for a moment.
'Monsieur,' he asked, 'what has happened between you and the King?'
'His Majesty has pardoned me.'
'A child might see that. What else? Be quick!'
'And has given me orders to meet you as you enter the Toison d'Or.'
The frown on his face cleared. 'Well answered, chevalier. The King, I see, has won a faithful and discreet friend. Make your attack when you hear the petard.' Then he, too, turned his broad shoulders on me and followed the rest.
As the sound of the heavy footfalls ceased I gave a last look at my pistols, drew in my sword-belt by a hole, and, all booted as I was, essayed the ladder again. The practice I had with it made the ascent easy now, and perhaps it was this that rendered me careless, for, as I was climbing, my foot slipped with a grating noise, and as I stopped for a moment, with one leg over the parapet and the other trailing over the drop behind, I heard a quick 'What is that?' through the open skylight. The voice was the Marshal's, and I almost felt that I could see his nervous start and rapid upward glance as the scrabbling noise reached his ears. Then came Lafin's answer, in those cool tones that can penetrate so far:
'A cat--only a cat, monseigneur!'
All was still again, and I crept softly to the opening. I did not dare look in, but crouched beneath the skylight, waiting for the signal. I had already observed that the skylight was but a light, wooden framework, with a glazing between, and would need no great effort to break down--one strong push and the way was clear before me. So I stayed for a minute of breathless silence, then from far below came a sharp, shrill whistle, hurried exclamations from the plotters, and now the explosion of the petard, that made the house rock to and fro like a tree in the wind.
I had no need to force open the skylight. The effect of the explosion did that most effectually for me and blew out the lamps in the room below as well, reducing it on a sudden to absolute darkness. There was a yell of terror from the room, and, without a moment's hesitation, I swung through the window and dropped down amongst the conspirators.
They were to a man crowding to the door, and not one took any note of my entrance, so great was their confusion. I followed the rush of hurrying figures as they pa.s.sed through the door into a pa.s.sage in dim light from a fire that burned in a small grate. One end of this pa.s.sage was full of smoke, against which the bright flashes of drawn swords were as darts of lightning. Beyond the smoke and below we could hear the clash of steel, cries of pain, and savage oaths, where men were fighting and dying hard. As I dashed down the pa.s.sage, sword in hand, my only thought to reach the prisoner's room, one of the retreating figures turned and called out, 'Quick, monseigneur! follow me--the secret stair!'
It was Lafin. In the confusion and semi-gloom he had mistaken me for his chief. I made no answer, but, as I rushed forwards, struck him on the face with the hilt of my sword, and he rolled over like a log.
Now I was right in amongst the scared plotters, cheek by jowl with M.
de Savoye's envoy, and I could have dropped him then and there, but that my whole heart was in Madame's room, and I knew that there were others who could and would deal with him.
As I elbowed my way through the press, vainly endeavouring to find the way to my dear's prison, we reached a landing from which a long stair led straight up, and here I heard the Marshal's voice, cracked with rage and fear.
'Lafin! de Gomeron! To me--here! here!'
'Ladies first. Marshal. I must look to my bride.'
Then through the smoke I saw de Gomeron's tall figure mounting the stair, and I rushed forward to follow him.
It was at this juncture that a portion of our own party forced their way to the landing, and one of them, whose sword was broken, flung himself upon me, dagger in hand, shouting, 'Death to traitors.' I had just time to seize his wrist. He tripped sideways over something that lay very quiet at our feet, and, dragging me down, we rolled over and over, with the clash of blades over us. 'It is I--fool--I, d'Auriac--let go,' I shouted, as he tried to stab at me.
'Let go you,' sputtered d'Aubusson's voice, and we loosed each other.
I had no time for another word, and grasping my sword, which was hanging to my wrist by the knot, I sprang up, and the next moment was hot foot after de Gomeron.
I managed somehow to force my way through the crowd, but the stairway was half-full of men, and at the head of it stood the free-lance, with a red sword in his hand, and two or three huddled objects that lay in shapeless ma.s.ses around him.
Some one, with a reckless indifference to his own life--it was, I afterwards found out, Pantin--held up a torch, and as the flare of it shot up the stairway de Gomeron threw back his head and laughed at us.
'Twenty to one--come, gentlemen--or must I come to you?' He took a couple of steps down the stairs, and the crowd, that had made as if it would rush him, wavered and fell back, bearing me, hoa.r.s.e with shouting for way, with them to the landing.
For the moment, penned up and utterly unable to get forward, I was a mere spectator to what followed.
The free-lance took one more downward step, and then a slight figure, with one arm in a sling, slid out from the press and flew at him.
It was d'Ayen, and I felt a sudden warming of the heart to the man who was going to his death.
'You--you traitor,' he gasped, as, using his sword with his left hand, his sword ripped the free-lance's ruff.
'Stand back, old fool--stand back--or--there! Take it,' and, with a sharp scream, d'Ayen fell backwards, the crowd splitting for a moment, so that he rolled to the foot of the stairs and came up at my feet.
G.o.d rest his soul! He died at the last like a gallant man.
They were backing in confusion now, and above the din I could hear the mocking of de Gomeron.
'Come, gentlemen, do not delay, time presses.'
One rush through at that time might have saved him, but he stood there playing with death. With an effort I pushed d'Ayen, who was still breathing, against the side of the wall, to let the poor wretch die in such comfort as could be, and, seeing my chance at last, made my way to the front.