The Heart of Denise and Other Tales Part 2

"I cannot understand," she said.

"It is for my husband to explain," I said bitterly. "It is for the gentleman, to whom we are to trust our lives on this journey, to say in how knightly a manner he can treat a woman."

And there de Lorgnac stood, both of us looking at him, his forehead burning and his eyes cast down. Even then a little pang of pity went through me to see him thus humbled, so strangely does G.o.d fashion the hearts of us women. But I hardened myself. I was determined to spare him nothing, and to measure out in full to him a cup of bitterness for the draught he had made me drink.

"Speak, man," exclaimed Madame. "Have you no voice?"

"He works in silence, madame," I burst in with an uncontrollable gust of anger; "he lies in silence. Shall I tell you what has happened?

I, Denise de Mieux, am neither more nor less than M. de Lorgnac's price--the hire he has received for a business he has to perform for the King. What it is I know not--perhaps something that no other gentleman would undertake. All that I know is that I, and my estates of Mieux, have become the property of this man, who stands before us, and is, G.o.d help me, my husband. Madame, five hours ago, I had not spoken ten words to him in my life, and now I am here, as much his property, as the valise his lackey bears behind his saddle."

"Hush, dear--be still--you forget yourself," and Madame drew me once more to her side and turned to my husband.

"Is this true, Blaise de Lorgnac? Or is the child ill and raving?

Answer, man!"

"It is," he answered hoa.r.s.ely, "every word."

In the silence that ensued I might have heard my glove fall, and then Madame, with a stiff little bow to my husband, said, "Pray excuse me for a moment," and stepped out of the room. He would have held the door for her, but she waved him aside, and he moved back and faced me, and for the first time we were alone together.

In the meanwhile I had made up my mind. I had repeated parrot-like the words that it was my duty to obey. I had vowed to follow my husband whithersoever he went; but vow or no vow I felt it was impossible, and I spoke out.

"Monsieur, you stand self-convicted. You have pleaded guilty to every charge I have made. Now hear me before Madame comes back, for I wish to spare you as much as possible. I have been forced into this marriage; but I am as dead to you as though we had never met. I decline to accept the position you have prepared for me, and our paths separate now. Would to G.o.d they had never crossed! I shall throw myself on the protection of Madame de Termes, and at the first opportunity shall seek the refuge of a convent. You will have to do your work without your hire, M. de Lorgnac."

He made a step forward, and laid his hand on my cloak.

"Denise--hear me--I love you."

"You mean my chateau and lands of Mieux. Why add a lie to what you have already done? It is hardly necessary," and I moved out of his reach.

His hand dropped to his side as he turned from me, and at the same time Madame re-entered the room.

"Monsieur," she said, "I fear the honour of your escort is too great for such as I, and I have arranged to travel with such protection as my own people can give me. As for this poor girl here, if she is willing to go with me, I will take the risk of the King's anger--and yours. She shall go with us, I say, and if there is a spark of honour left in you, you will leave her alone."

"She is free as air," he answered.

"Then, monsieur, you will excuse me; but time is pressing."

CHAPTER III.

THE SPUR OF LES ESCh.e.l.lES.

De Lorgnac was gone. Through the open window overlooking the courtyard, that let in the warm summer evening, we heard him give an order to his men in a quick, resolute voice, far different from the low tones in which he had spoken before, and then he and his troop rode off at a rapid trot in the direction, as it seemed, of the Porte St. Honore. I could hardly realize that I was free and that de Lorgnac had resigned me without a struggle. All that I could think of was that he was gone, and with a quick gasp of relief I turned to my friend.

"Oh, madame! How can I thank you? What shall I say?"

"Say nothing to me, my child, but rather thank the good G.o.d that there was a little of honour left in that man. And now, before we start, you must have some refreshment."

"I cannot--indeed, no. I am ready to go at once. I want to put leagues between me and Paris."

"You must be guided by me now, Denise," and as she spoke a servant brought in some soup and a flask of wine. Despite my protests I was forced to swallow something, though I felt that I was choking; yet the little Frontignac I drank, I not being used to wine, seemed to steady my shaking limbs and restore my scattered faculties.

As we put on our cloaks and demi-masks preparatory to starting, Madame de Termes kept saying to herself, "I cannot understand--Blaise de Lorgnac to lend himself to a thing like this! I would have staked my life on him. There is something behind this, child," and she put a hand on each of my shoulders and looked me full in the eyes. "Have you told me all--have you withheld nothing?"

"Has he not himself admitted what I said, madame? If that is not enough I will add every word of what I know;" and as we stood there I detailed what I have already told, forcing myself to go on with the story once or twice when I felt myself being unnerved, and finishing with a quick, "And, madame, I was taken by storm. Indeed, I hardly know even if this is not some frightful dream."

"Would it were so," she said, and added, "Denise, I believe every word you say; and yet there is something behind de Lorgnac's action. I know him well. He would never lend himself to be the tool of others. Once, however, at Perigueux you will be safe with the Vicomte and myself, and it will be a long arm that would drag you thence--nothing short of that of the Medicis. But Catherine owes much to de Termes; and now let us start."

What was my surprise when we reached the courtyard, to hear my maid Mousette's voice, and I saw her perched on a little nag, already engaged in a flirtation with one of the men. When I spoke to her she pressed her horse forward and began hurriedly:

"I was sent here with Madame's things," she said. "I am afraid the valises are but hastily packed, and much has had to be left behind; but Madame will excuse me, I know; it was all so quick, and I had so little time."

"Thank you, Mousette," and I turned to my horse, her address of Madame ringing strangely in my ears.

We were, including Madame de Termes' servants, who were well armed, a party of about twelve, small enough to face the danger of the road in those unsettled days, but no thought of this struck me, and as for Madame de Termes, she would, I do believe, have braved the journey alone, so anxious was she to be by the Vicomte's side, for between herself and the stout old soldier, who held the lieutenancy of Perigord, there existed the deepest affection.

As we rode down the Bourdonnais, I could not help thinking to myself how n.o.ble a spirit it was that animated my friend. Not for one moment had she allowed her own trouble to stand in the way of her helping me.

Her husband, whom, as I have said, she dearly loved, was ill, perhaps dying, and yet in her sympathy and pity for me, she had let no word drop about him, except the cheery a.s.surance of his protection.

Nevertheless, as we rode on, she ever kept turning towards Lalande, her equerry, and bade him urge the lagging baggage animals on. Pa.s.sing the Grand Chatelet, we crossed the arms of the river by the Pont au Change, and the Pont St. Michel, and kept steadily down the Rue de la Harpe towards the Porte St. Martin. We gained this not a moment too soon, for as the last of the baggage animals pa.s.sed it, we heard the officer give the word to lower the drawbridge and close the gates. The clanking of the chains, and the creaking of the huge doors came to me with something of relief in them, for it seemed to me that I was safe from further tyranny from the Hotel de Soissons, at any rate for this night.

As we pa.s.sed the huge silhouette of the Hotel de Luxembourg, we heard the bells of St. Sulpice sounding Compline, and then, from behind us, the solemn notes rang out from the spires of the city churches.

Yielding to an impulse I could not resist, I turned in my saddle and looked back, letting my eyes run over the vast, dim outlines of the city, so softened by the moonlight that it was as if some opaque, fantastic cloud was resting on the earth. Above curved the profound blue of the night, with here and there a star struggling to force its way past the splendour of the moon. All was quiet and still, and the church bells ringing out were as a message from His creatures to the Most High. I let my heart go after the voices of the bells as they travelled heavenward, and had it not been for Mousette's shrill tones, that cut through the quiet night and recalled me to myself, I might have let the party go onwards, I do not know how far. As it was, I had to bustle my little horse to gain the side of Madame de Termes once more. It was not, of course, our intention to travel all night. That would have been impossible, for it would have entailed weary horses, and a long halt the next day; but it was proposed that we should make for a small chateau belonging to Monsieur de Bouchage, the brother of the Duc de Joyeuse, which he had placed at Madame de Termes' disposal, and there rest for the remainder of the night, making a start early the next morning, and then pressing on daily, as fast as our strength would allow. Lalande had sent a courier on in advance to announce our sudden coming. We did not expect to reach de Bouchage's house until about midnight, and the equerry was fussing up and down the line of march, urging a packhorse on here, checking a restive animal there, and ever and again warning the lackeys to keep their arms in readiness, for the times were such that no man's teeth were safe in his head, unless he wore a good blade by his side.

We were, in short, on the eve of that tremendous struggle which, beginning with the Day of the Barricades, went on to the murder of the Princes of Lorraine on that terrible Christmastide at Blois, and culminated with the dagger of Clement and the death of the miscreant whom G.o.d in His anger had given to us for a king.

Already the Huguenots were arming again, and it was afloat that the Palatine had sent twenty thousand men, under Dhona, to emulate the march of the Duc de Deux Ponts from the Rhine to Guyenne. It was said that the Montpensier had gone so far as to attempt to seize the person of the King, swearing that once in her hands, he would never see the outside of four walls again, and rumours were flitting here and there, crediting the Bearnnois with the same, if not deeper, resolves.

Things being so, the land was as full of angry murmurs as a nest of disturbed bees; the result being that the writ of the King was almost as waste paper, and bands of cut-throat soldiery committed every excess, now under the white, then under the red scarf, as it suited their convenience.

It was for this reason that Lalande urged us on, and we were nothing loath ourselves to hasten, but our pace had to be regulated by that of the laden animals, and do what we would our progress was slow.

Madame and I rode in the rear of the troop, a couple of armed men immediately behind us. Lalande was in front, and exercised the greatest caution whenever we came to a place that was at all likely to be used for an ambuscade.

Nothing, however, happened, and finally we set down to a jogging motion, speaking no word, for we were wearied, and with no sound to break the silence of the night except the shuffling of our horses, the straining of their harness, and the clink of sword sheath and chain bit.

Suddenly we were startled by the rapid beat of hoofs, and in a moment, a white horse and its rider emerged from the moonlit haze to our right, coming as it were straight upon us. Lalande gave a quick order to halt, and I saw the barrel of his pistol flashing in his hand; but the horseman, with a cry of "For the King! Way! Way!" dashed over the road at full gallop, and sped off like a sprite over the open plain to our left.

"Did you hear the voice, Denise?" asked Madame.

"Yes."

"It is stranger than ever," she said, and I could make no answer.

There was no doubt about it. It was de Lorgnac; and instead of going to the Porte St. Honore as I thought when he left us, he must have crossed by the Meunniers and come out by the St. Germains Gate. He had evidently, too, separated himself from his men.

"I shall be glad when we reach de Bouchage's house," I said with a shiver, for the apparition of my husband had sent a chill through me.