Orrain | Page 7

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 ��cus 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 Vend?me, and so I refused once more.
"Well, well," he said, "as you will; but never say Antony of Vend?me 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 Chatelet 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 Vend?me, 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 B��arn--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 Mar��chal 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 archives of the Parliament of Paris, where all who list may see it. There is yet one other whom I could name, one who is ever at my side, and who for good or for ill has taken me as part of her life; but for the present the names I have cited are sufficient, and I shall say no more on the subject.
On returning to my apartment after leaving Vend?me and Le Brusquet I found old Camus at the door awaiting me. He entered with me, saying:
"I watched it all from the window. Hey! but it was well done!"
I pretended to take no notice of this remark, and pressed some refreshment upon him; but the old