Orrain | Page 7

two, except
in love-making."
At this the Duke laughed, and agreed, and we all three went out into the
street, which twisted and wound its crooked way towards the river face
between two rows of overhanging houses, that seemed as if they were
ever threatening to fall over and bury it in their ruins.
For a little we walked without a word; for Antony of Vendôme--fickle
and vain, at once the hope and despair of his time--felt himself hurt and
aggrieved by the refusal of his offer, and for a space preserved a sulky
silence. Ere we had gone a quarter mile, however, his temper--variable
as the wind--began to change and his kindly nature to reassert itself.
We were passing the house of the Duplessis Richelieu when he spoke.
"Eh bien, Monsieur Broussel, change your mind and think better of my
offer. What with one thing and another there is steel in the air at present,
and a stout heart and a good sword such as you are may make an estate
of fifty écus five hundred or more. Come, think of it!"
I felt my blood warm within me in spite of my fancied devotion to my
contented life; but I thought of that affair of the duel, of the judgment
of the Chambre Ardente, and above all, of Simon and the cards he held
against me. Besides, I knew Vendôme, and so I refused once more.

"Well, well," he said, "as you will; but never say Antony of Vendôme
was ungrateful."
We had by this time reached the point where the road opened out upon
the river face, and halted together in the moonlight.
A little distance from us lay the Seine, shining in scales of hammered
brass. The convicts were still on the Gloriette. Poor wretches! They
slaved there day and night, and lights were moving to and fro amongst
them as the guards watched them at their toil. They were singing a
weird refrain--a chorus--ever and again interrupted by yells and curses
as the lash of the task-master fell on some victim of his hatred or
sluggard at work.
"Here we part, Monseigneur!" I said. "The lieutenant of the Châtelet
will give you guards to escort you farther."
I bowed to both, and would have gone--for I thought it well not to be
mixed up further in this matter--but the Duke stayed me. He had taken
off his glove, and was fumbling with a ring on his finger. This he drew
off and thrust into my hand.
"Keep this, monsieur. Remember, if ever you want a friend you have
but to send it to me. Farewell!"
"Au revoir!" cried Le Brusquet, who had up to now preserved silence.
"Remember, Le Brusquet is also your debtor doubly--once for a life
and once for a sword--and forget not my address is the sign of the
Crescent."
With this mocking allusion to the Louvre and to Diane de Poitiers'
influence there, he followed on the heels of Vendôme, leaving me with
the ring in my hand.
I watched them until they were lost in the shivering haze. They never
sought the Gloriette, but kept on the right, making directly for the
Louvre.

Then I looked at the ring. It was light enough for me to see that it was a
plain gold signet in the shape of a shield, with the arms of Béarn--two
cows on a field Or--cut thereon.
"Perhaps," I said to myself, "I shall need it some day." With this I
slipped it on my finger, and went back.
CHAPTER III
MY PYRAMID OF CARDS COMES DOWN
I may say at once that in this chronicle it often befalls that I have to
describe the actions and deal with the motives of others. In doing this I
have given no rein to idle fancy, but have strictly followed what those
who played a part in my life have told me.
To show that my authorities in this respect are beyond reproach I have
but to mention the names of my friends--Blaise Ste. Marie de Lorgnac,
now, as all know, the Maréchal Duc de Lorgnac; and Nicholas d'Ayen,
Sieur de Besme, of the Quercy, who acted so strange a part in his day
under the name of Le Brusquet. Each of these is prepared on his faith,
as knight and gentleman, to support my words, either on foot or on
horseback, with sword or with lance, and in this respect I too am ready
to cross a blade, or run a course; and so, God defend the Truth!
If further proof is needed I beg leave to refer to the confession of the
Italian, Torquato Trotto, made at his expiation, which gives many and
curious details, especially of what happened in Le Jaquemart, and
which is registered in the