Beyond the table the damage was not much greater. Of the three on the floor, and the two afterwards found in the court, only he who had received Martin's first thrust had forestalled9 the hangman. For the rest, Toute beste garde sa pel, had been Villon's motto, and his fellow rabble10 had echoed it.
At first it seemed as if we would join the other four upon the gallows11, and so settle our quarrel with equal honours. But drawing the provost aside, Monseigneur showed him some token which turned the midnight of his face to a smiling noon, and if we had but expressed the wish, he would have dangled12 his four prisoners from the newly-painted sign there and then. "In any case it is but three days' delay," said he cheerfully, "and if the first loiters but a little, all five can travel home together."
Next he was anxious to see Monseigneur safe to his lodgings14, but was met by a firm refusal.
"I know my Paris. In the open street so large a party is safe. These," and he paused, looking doubtfully at us, nor, in the faint yellow light of the smoky lantern was our appearance prepossessing, "these—um—gentlemen had better join my friends."
"So, so!" And in his zeal15 that the extreme justice of the law might not be cheated three days later, even by such pitiful wretches16 as we, the provost caught Martin by the arm. "Monseigneur does not know these—um—gentlemen?"
Before either Monseigneur or I could answer, Martin cut in, the ominous17 grip of the sleeve quickening his tongue, and the seeming trivial interference bore its fruit later on.
"We are Gaspard Hellewyl of Solignac in Flanders, and his servant," said he, shaking off the persuasive18 hand.
The thiefcatcher promptly19 replaced it.
"That is for Monseigneur to say, not you—Do you know these men, my lord?"
The answer and the action that foreran it startled me. Taking the lantern from the provost's hand, Monseigneur, still keeping himself completely in shadow, threw the light brightly on to Martin's face.
"Yes," he said slowly, "I know Hellewyl of Solignac in Flanders, but—" he stopped.
"I am—" began Martin, only to be checked by a wave of Monseigneur's unoccupied hand.
"That will keep," he said curtly21. "For the present it is enough that I know and vouch22 for Hellewyl of Solignac. You have horses? Get them, then; I give you ten minutes. Mademoiselle," and he turned to the hooded23 woman who, with her companion, had remained in the shelter of the alcove24 throughout the melée. How she had borne herself I could only guess, for her face was still hidden, but she had neither uttered cry nor hampered25 us in any way, "this is a lesson, a book without words, and a child may read the pictures. I desire peace, and war is forced upon me."
What she answered I do not know. He had such a curt20, masterful way with him that when he said, I give you ten minutes, self-interest advised, Take eight or less. There was not even time to ask ourselves, Who is this that knows Hellewyl of Solignac here in Paris? That it was Monsieur de Commines himself we never guessed. I, for I had never met him, nor had Martin seen him for nineteen years, while he was still a lad in the service of Charles the Bold, and then not often.
Nor was it so strange that we should meet as we did. Martin had only told the truth when he said the Star of Dauphiny had been a rendezvous26 in the old days, and now, when Monsieur de Commines had need of a trysting place where all might go without remark, the memory of his youthful experience had come back to him. Of the changes for the worse twenty years had in the inn worked he knew as little as Martin.
It was a procession of two and two, headed by Monseigneur's companion, that presently turned westward27 down the Rue28 Neuve Saint Martin. Mademoiselle's guard and woman attendant went next, then Monsieur de Commines and Mademoiselle, Martin and I bringing up the rear, the only mounted members of the party. We men had our swords drawn29, and all kept the middle of the streets. These were mostly dark and empty, ill-lit by a cloudy half-moon. When a band of night-prowlers met us, our numbers were passport enough, and they slunk away into the gloom of a side lane. If up these we heard the noise of a scuffle, a cry, a clash, a blasphemy30, even an appeal for help, we marched on as if we had not heard; murder and theft were the common events of the night, and the weak must pay the penalty of their weakness. With women to guard we did not divide our party, and to have penetrated31 into the unlit ways was to court destruction. In the midst of most open spaces bonfires blazed, round which the watch gathered, and across certain streets chains were drawn to break the rush of the mob in times of disaffection.
During their long tramp, those immediately in front of us spoke little. To avoid the offal flung on the streets and the holes half filled with slime strained all their attention in the dim light. But as we paused where the Rue des Poulies joins the Rue Saint Honoré, I heard Monsieur de Commines say:
"Is it wise, so near the Louvre?"
"The nearer the church, the further from grace, Monseigneur," she answered bitterly, "and I suppose I may adapt the saying to The nearer the foe32, the farther from danger. Besides, who knows we are in Paris?"
"Few things pass in Paris that my master does not know; he has eyes at the end of the earth," was the reply as we turned down to the left.
But only a little way. Opposite a darkened house, a few steps down the Rue des Poulies, we again halted, and as Monseigneur bent33 over Mademoiselle's hand in farewell, she held him fast.
"Is it ruin, truly ruin?" she said, the tears trembling in her voice. "Oh, Monseigneur, Monseigneur, can you not give us some hope? So much to us, so little to France; give us some hope to live upon, Monseigneur, for the love of God!"
Monsieur de Commines made no attempt to withdraw his hand, nor, in his place, would I. But his voice had a cheery ring through its gravity as he answered—
"Take comfort, Mademoiselle, take comfort. Though all must be as the King wills, two things fight for you; I desire peace, and time is on your side."
"Ah!" she replied, still bitterly, "that is cold comfort, cold as—as—the love of Louis." Then her voice sharpened as if she had caught a meaning in his tone which the bare words failed to suggest; or it may be a pressure of the hand had passed in the darkness; had I been in his place, I think it would, "unless, indeed, Monseigneur, you have some plan in your head, you, who are so shrewd, so far of sight, the cleverest, clearest brain in France, ah, then—then there would be hope."
This time he dropped her hand as if its touch scorched34 him.
"A plan? Who am I to have plans, Mademoiselle? No, no, not a plan, hardly that, hardly that. Farewell, Mademoiselle, farewell, Madame; my last word is this, forget Paris and the Star of Flanders. Come, gentlemen, our way lies forward," and he walked briskly on towards the river just showing its silver between the darkness of the walls on either hand, leaving us to follow.
But a few steps further on, the door having closed behind the women, he turned and called sharply,
"Monsieur Hellewyl, here, if you please. No, no," he went on, as I drew up to his side, "not you, but that weasel-faced fellow who calls himself Gaspard Hellewyl of Solignac in Flanders. It is he I want."
"But I am Gaspard Hellewyl of Solignac."
"Thou? Then how came he to call himself Hellewyl?"
"That was your misapprehension, Monseigneur. He is my—what shall I say?" and I laughed a little bitterly, a little forlornly, "my squire35, my servant, my retinue36, the last friend left to the last Hellewyl unless Monsieur de Commines can help me. You cut him short in his explanation."
"A misapprehension?" he repeated. "My word for it, young gentleman, but you rubbed shoulders with the gibbet for that misapprehension. If I had not been a trifle in your debt I would have left you to the provost's mercies for what I took to be an impudent37 lie. I knew Hellewyl of Solignac of old, but you, who are you?"
"Gaspard Hellewyl, son to Philip Hellewyl who was in Paris nineteen years ago, and died in 'sixty five.'"
"Turn your face to the light. In these unsettled times we must run no risks. Yes, the age fits, and you have a look of Philip. I took you for a pair of night-hawks, and that such sorry clothing bestrode such well-bred beasts strengthened the thought." Long before this we had walked slowly onward38, still in the direction of the river, I by his side, with Roland's bridle39 in one hand. "But the story of the incongruity40 can wait," he went on; "Monsieur de Commines? What claim have you on him?"
"He was my father's friend——"
"Nineteen years ago!" he interrupted cynically41. "In an age of short memories have you no claim more modern?"
"He is a far-off cousin."
"A relationship Monsieur de Commines has apparently42 never remembered or recognised; anything more plausible43 than a German cousinship?"
I shook my head.
"Yes," and he laid a hand on my shoulder, pressing it warmly, "I know better. You have five claims, one dead, and four with three days' life in them. I am Philip de Commines."
"Monsieur de Commines? The Prince de Talmont?"
"The same, and in all sincerity44 let me add, at your service. But we can talk of that later. Do you know your whereabouts? No, how could you! This is the Louvre, and our lodging13 for to-night."
Monsieur de Commines! The Louvre! I could only stare. As we talked we had walked on, to the right by the Rue du Petit Bourbon, to the left down the Rue d'Hosterische, bordered on the one side by a wide fosse beyond which rose a palace of disenchantment. The Louvre! When one spoke of the Louvre I had imagined I know not what, but a vague glory fired the fancy. The Louvre! These frowning walls of dirty grey were a prison house, these little pierced windows the shot-holes of a threatened fortress45, that rounded donjon in the centre the King's clenched46 fist menacing Paris, those pointed47 towers at the corners—But Monseigneur cut the catalogue short; we were already at the moat.
Late though it was, the drawbridge was lowered, a guard of three standing48 at the hither end. To these Monsieur de Commines gave the password, and we crossed to a small postern that pierced the walls to the right of the sunk gateway49. Through this he led us.
"You will come with me, Monsieur Hellewyl. Morlaix will see after—is it Martin you call him? Only, remember this, all three. You heard my farewell to Mademoiselle? Take it to yourselves, and forget the Star of Flanders. To-night I have been on the King's business, and Louis has but one cure for loose tongues. I ask no promises, your risk is my best assurance."
Some men would have said "your honour," but not Monsieur de Commines; he had lived long at courts and preferred to rest his claim on the surest foundation.
It was not until my wounds were dressed, and garments of I know not whose ownership provided in place of my mired50 rags, that Monsieur de Commines—we being in the privacy of his own suite51 of rooms—asked for my story. Nor did he interrupt me in its telling, but sat like a statue, his face turned up to the painted ceiling. The failure of our fortunes, the burning of Solignac, the murder of old Babette, moved him no more than if a stranger had bidden him good day. But as I ended he lowered his eyes, looking at me keenly but not unkindly.
"And why do you come to Paris?"
My answer was as curt as the question.
"To move Monsieur de Commines to move the King to give me justice on Jan Meert."
"I might as well hope to move the Louvre to carry you to Plessis les Tours—unless the King willed to be moved. And on Jan Meert!" a little grim smile dashed with a tolerant contempt, broke over his lips; "a Hollander, eh?"
"You know him, Monseigneur, you know him!" I cried impetuously, moved less by the words than by the look on his face, "Oh, then, it will be easy."
"I know many things," he answered, the smile deepening. "I know this, my friend; you are very innocent. Did it never strike you that the King of France has many agents—no, agents is too strong a word, it implies a kind of intimacy52, a private confidence,—call them tools?"
"Agents? Tools? Monseigneur, Monseigneur, what commerce can a King of France have with a Jan Meert?"
"Commerce? Pish! this time it is you who use too strong a word. Monsieur Hellewyl, do you know how kingdoms are built? how varied53, how complex, yes, and at times how opposite, the elements of construction? Loyalty54 at home, treason abroad, a bribe55 to avarice56, a threat to cowardice57, flattery to pride, men's blood, tears of women, babes made fatherless, the wisdom of a Louis, the rashness of a Charles, the I would but I dare not of a Maximilian, the brutishness of a Jan Meert."
"The Most Christian58 King and Jan Meert! Oh! Monseigneur, the conjunction is impossible, the thought is too contemptible59."
Commines' face darkened as he leaned towards me, his arms resting on his knees.
"Learn to guard your tongue, Monsieur, when you speak of the greatest monarch60 now upon earth. How can you, a green and weedy sapling out of a Flanders hedge, judge the oak of the forest? Is a gardener unclean because he raises a flower of nobility and strength from the outscourings of a stable?"
But the wound to my hopes galled61 me, and I was obstinate62.
"I do not see the King's gain in such an honourable63 partnership64."
"I will tell you. But first, why should the King do justice for you on Jan Meert?"
"It might give him a hold on Flanders."
"You must have a great mind, friend Gaspard, for you and the King thought alike, only he before the event, and you after. Anarchy65 in Flanders creates a need for the strong hand of a better government, and so—Jan Meert!"
"Then Monseigneur," said I helplessly, "my quest is ended before it is well begun."
But Monsieur de Commines shook his head. The sudden sternness that had flashed into his voice had passed away, and he was once more the friend and patron.
"You go too fast. Never try to take all your ditches at one stride. Some tools are only used once and then flung aside, others of their kind being never far to seek. There are many Jan Meerts in the world. As I said before I say again, All is as the King wills. What is your plan? Except Monsieur de Beaujeu, the officers of state, and myself, the King sees no gentlemen. That is his humour. Are you very proud, Monsieur Hellewyl?"
"Not too proud to serve—"
"The King?"
"Myself, Monseigneur," I retorted, for I had caught his meaning. He laughed and nodded.
"Good, I see you have learned your lesson. There are times when a man must stoop that he may rise. That will suit the King's humour. I will be frank with you. He spends his time raising men up and casting them down again, that France may understand her master's life is still strong in him. He loves new faces, but soon tires or grows doubtful. There lies your opportunity. To have a gentleman of ten generations serve him as a servant will please him. Before he tires, or grows doubtful of your fidelity66, your chance may come."
"To move him to justice?"
"No, no; I said you were very innocent. To earn your wages: Jan Meert's life in your hand, a new Solignac on the ashes of the old, your lost lands restored."
"Large wages, Monseigneur," said I, drawing in a breath, and catching67 something of the spirit of hope throbbing68 high in his words, "almost too large to dream of receiving, except in a dream."
"Pish! Now you are modest! When the King gives, he gives royally, only, remember this, large wages mean great service. If the pay is to be earned, the task will match the pay. Are you afraid?"
"God helping69 me, Monseigneur, no!"
"Just so," answered he, drily, "God helping you. It is a help most men need who wade70 in King's waters," and sat looking at me in deep thought.
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1
dribbling
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| n.（燃料或油从系统内）漏泄v.流口水( dribble的现在分词 )；（使液体）滴下或作细流；运球，带球 | |
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2
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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lament
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| n.悲叹，悔恨，恸哭；v.哀悼，悔恨，悲叹 | |
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4
slashed
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| v.挥砍( slash的过去式和过去分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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5
warding
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| 监护，守护（ward的现在分词形式） | |
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dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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7
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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8
bruises
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| n.瘀伤，伤痕，擦伤( bruise的名词复数 ) | |
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9
forestalled
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| v.先发制人，预先阻止( forestall的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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10
rabble
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| n.乌合之众，暴民；下等人 | |
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11
gallows
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| n.绞刑架，绞台 | |
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12
dangled
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| 悬吊着( dangle的过去式和过去分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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13
lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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15
zeal
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| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
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wretches
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| n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 )；可怜的人；恶棍；坏蛋 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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18
persuasive
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| adj.有说服力的，能说得使人相信的 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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curt
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| adj.简短的，草率的 | |
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21
curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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vouch
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| v.担保；断定；n.被担保者 | |
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23
hooded
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| adj.戴头巾的；有罩盖的；颈部因肋骨运动而膨胀的 | |
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24
alcove
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| n.凹室 | |
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25
hampered
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| 妨碍，束缚，限制( hamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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rendezvous
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| n.约会，约会地点，汇合点；vi.汇合，集合；vt.使汇合，使在汇合地点相遇 | |
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27
westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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29
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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30
blasphemy
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| n.亵渎，渎神 | |
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31
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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32
foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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34
scorched
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| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶； 枯焦 | |
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35
squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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retinue
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| n.侍从；随员 | |
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37
impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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38
onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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39
bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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40
incongruity
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| n.不协调，不一致 | |
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41
cynically
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| adv.爱嘲笑地，冷笑地 | |
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42
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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43
plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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44
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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45
fortress
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| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
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46
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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47
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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48
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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49
gateway
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| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
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50
mired
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| abbr.microreciprocal degree 迈尔德（色温单位）v.深陷( mire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51
suite
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| n.一套(家具)；套房；随从人员 | |
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52
intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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53
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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54
loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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55
bribe
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| n.贿赂；v.向…行贿，买通 | |
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56
avarice
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| n.贪婪；贪心 | |
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57
cowardice
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| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
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58
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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59
contemptible
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| adj.可鄙的，可轻视的，卑劣的 | |
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60
monarch
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| n.帝王，君主，最高统治者 | |
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61
galled
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| v.使…擦痛( gall的过去式和过去分词 )；擦伤；烦扰；侮辱 | |
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62
obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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63
honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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64
partnership
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| n.合作关系，伙伴关系 | |
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65
anarchy
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| n.无政府状态；社会秩序混乱，无秩序 | |
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66
fidelity
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| n.忠诚，忠实；精确 | |
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67
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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68
throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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69
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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70
wade
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| v.跋涉，涉水；n.跋涉 | |
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