The Forty-Five Guardsmen | Page 6

said he to the
second.
The man with the cuirass advanced.
"Your card?" said De Loignac.
"What! M. de Loignac, do you not know the son of your old friend,
whom you have danced twenty times on your knee?"--"No."
"I am Pertinax de Montcrabeau," replied the young man, with
astonishment. "Do you not know me now?"
"When I am on service, I know no one. Your card, monsieur?"
He held it out. "All right! pass," said De Loignac.
The third now approached, whose card was demanded in the same
terms. The man plunged his hand into a little goatskin pouch which he

wore, but in vain; he was so embarrassed by the child in his arms, that
he could not find it.
"What the devil are you doing with that child?" asked De Loignac.
"He is my son, monsieur."
"Well; put your son down. You are married, then?"---"Yes, monsieur."
"At twenty?"
"They marry young among us; you ought to know that, M. de Loignac,
who were married at eighteen."
"Oh!" thought De Loignac, "here is another who knows me."
"And why should he not be married?" cried the woman advancing.
"Yes, monsieur, he is married, and here are two other children who call
him father, besides this great lad behind. Advance, Militor, and bow to
M. de Loignac."
A lad of sixteen, vigorous and agile, with an incipient mustache,
stepped forward.
"They are my wife's sons, monsieur."
"In Heaven's name, your card!" cried De Loignac.
"Lardille!" cried the Gascon to his wife, "come and help me."
Lardille searched the pouch and pockets of her husband, but uselessly.
"We must have lost it!" she cried.
"Then I arrest you."
The man turned pale, but said, "I am Eustache de Miradoux, and M. de
St. Maline is my patron."
"Oh!" said De Loignac, a little mollified at this name, "well, search

again."
They turned to their pockets again, and began to re-examine them.
"Why, what do I see there, on the sleeve of that blockhead?" said De
Loignac.
"Yes, yes!" cried the father. "I remember, now, Lardille sewed it on."
"That you might carry something, I suppose, you great lazy fellow."
The card was looked at and found all right, and the family passed on in
the same order as before.
The fourth man advanced and gave his name as Chalabre. It was found
correct, and he also entered.
Then came M. de Carmainges. He got off his horse and presented his
card, while the page hid his face by pretending to adjust the saddle.
"The page belongs to you?" asked De Loignac.
"You see, he is attending to my horse."
"Pass, then."
"Quick, my master," said the page.
Behind these men the door was closed, much to the discontent of the
crowd. Robert Briquet, meanwhile, had drawn near to the porter's lodge,
which had two windows, one looking toward Paris and the other into
the country. From this post he saw a man, who, coming from Paris at
full gallop, entered the lodge and said, "Here I am, M. de Loignac."
"Good. Where do you come from?"
"From the Porte St. Victor."
"Your number?"--"Five."

"The cards?"
"Here they are."
De Loignac took them, examined them, and wrote on a slate the
number five. The messenger left, and two others appeared, almost
immediately. One came from the Porte Bourdelle, and brought the
number four, the other from the Porte du Temple, and announced six.
Then came four others. The first from the Porte St. Denis, with the
number five; the next from the Porte St. Jacques, with the number three;
the third from the Porte St. Honore, with the number eight; and the
fourth from the Porte Montmartre, with the number four. Lastly came a
messenger, from the Porte Bussy, who announced four. De Loignac
wrote all these down, added them to those who had entered the Porte St.
Antoine, and found the total number to be forty-five.
"Good!" said he. "Now open the gates, and all may enter."
The gates were thrown open, and then horses, mules, and carts, men,
women, and children, pressed into Paris, at the risk of suffocating each
other, and in a quarter of an hour all the crowd had vanished.
Robert Briquet remained until the last. "I have seen enough," said he:
"would it be very advantageous to me to see M. Salcede torn in four
pieces? No, pardieu! Besides, I have renounced politics; I will go and
dine."


CHAPTER IV.
HIS MAJESTY HENRI THE THIRD.
M. Friard was right when he talked of 100,000 persons as the number
of spectators who would meet on the Place de Greve and its environs,
to witness the execution of Salcede. All Paris appeared to have a
rendezvous at the Hotel de Ville; and Paris is very exact, and never

misses