Under the Red Robe Page 2

  CHAPTER II. AT THE GREEN PILLAR

  Cocheforet lies in a billowy land of oak and beech and chestnuts--a landof deep, leafy bottoms and hills clothed with forest. Ridge and valley,glen and knoll, the woodland, sparsely peopled and more sparsely tilled,stretches away to the great snow mountains that here limit France. Itswarms with game--with wolves and bears, deer and boars. To the end ofhis life I have heard that the great king loved this district, and wouldsigh, when years and State fell heavily on him, for the beech groves andbox-covered hills of South Bearn. From the terraced steps of Auch youcan see the forest roll away in light and shadow, vale and upland, tothe base of the snow peaks; and, though I come from Brittany and lovethe smell of the salt wind, I have seen few sights that outdo this.

  It was the second week of October, when I came to Cocheforet, and,dropping down from the last wooded brow, rode quietly into the place atevening. I was alone, and had ridden all day in a glory of ruddy beechleaves, through the silence of forest roads, across clear brooks andglades still green. I had seen more of the quiet and peace of thecountry than had been my share since boyhood, and for that reason, orbecause I had no great taste for the task before me--the task nowso imminent--I felt a little hipped. In good faith, it was not agentleman's work that I was come to do, look at it how you might.

  But beggars must not be choosers, and I knew that this feeling wouldnot last. At the inn, in the presence of others, under the spur ofnecessity, or in the excitement of the chase, were that once begun, Ishould lose the feeling. When a man is young he seeks solitude, when heis middle-aged, he flies it and his thoughts. I made therefore for the'Green Pillar,' a little inn in the village street, to which I had beendirected at Auch, and, thundering on the door with the knob of my ridingswitch, railed at the man for keeping me waiting.

  Here and there at hovel doors in the street--which was a mean,poor place, not worthy of the name--men and women looked out at mesuspiciously. But I affected to ignore them; and at last the host came.He was a fair-haired man, half-Basque, half-Frenchman, and had scannedme well, I was sure, through some window or peephole; for when he cameout he betrayed no surprise at the sight of a well-dressed stranger--aportent in that out-of-the-way village--but eyed me with a kind ofsullen reserve.

  'I can lie here to-night, I suppose?' I said, dropping the reins on thesorrel's neck. The horse hung its head.

  'I don't know,' he answered stupidly.

  I pointed to the green bough which topped a post that stood opposite thedoor.

  'This is an inn, is it not?' I said.

  'Yes,' he answered slowly. 'It is an inn. But--'

  'But you are full, or you are out of food, or your wife is ill, orsomething else is amiss,' I answered peevishly. 'All the same, I amgoing to lie here. So you must make the best of it, and your wifetoo--if you have one.'

  He scratched his head, looking at me with an ugly glitter in his eyes.But he said nothing, and I dismounted.

  'Where can I stable my horse?' I asked.

  'I'll put it up,' he answered sullenly, stepping forward and taking thereins in his hand.

  'Very well,' I said. 'But I go with you. A merciful man is merciful tohis beast, and wherever I go I see my horse fed.'

  'It will be fed,' he said shortly. And then he waited for me to gointo the house. 'The wife is in there,' he continued, looking at mestubbornly.

  'IMPRIMIS--if you understand Latin, my friend,' I answered, 'the horsein the stall.'

  He saw that it was no good, turned the sorrel slowly round, and beganto lead it across the village street. There was a shed behind the inn,which I had already marked, and taken for the stable, I was surprisedwhen I found that he was not going there, but I made no remark, and ina few minutes saw the horse made comfortable in a hovel which seemed tobelong to a neighbour.

  This done, the man led the way back to the inn, carrying my valise.

  'You have no other guests?' I said, with a casual air. I knew that hewas watching me closely.

  'No,' he answered.

  'This is not much in the way to anywhere, I suppose?'

  'No.'

  That was so evident, that I never saw a more retired place. The hangingwoods, rising steeply to a great height, so shut the valley in that Iwas puzzled to think how a man could leave it save by the road I hadcome. The cottages, which were no more than mean, small huts, ran ina straggling double line, with many gaps--through fallen trees andill-cleared meadows. Among them a noisy brook ran in and out, and theinhabitants--charcoal-burners, or swine-herds, or poor devils of thelike class, were no better than their dwellings. I looked in vain forthe Chateau. It was not to be seen, and I dared not ask for it.

  The man led me into the common room of the tavern--a low-roofed, poorplace, lacking a chimney or glazed windows, and grimy with smoke anduse. The fire--a great half-burned tree--smouldered on a stone hearth,raised a foot from the floor. A huge black pot simmered over it, andbeside one window lounged a country fellow talking with the goodwife. Inthe dusk I could not see his face, but I gave the woman a word, and satdown to wait for my supper.

  She seemed more silent than the common run of her kind; but this mightbe because her husband was present. While she moved about getting mymeal, he took his place against the door-post and fell to staring atme so persistently that I felt by no means at my ease. He was a tall,strong fellow, with a shaggy moustache and brown beard, cut in the modeHenri Quatre; and on the subject of that king--a safe one, I knew, witha Bearnais--and on that alone, I found it possible to make him talk.Even then there was a suspicious gleam in his eyes that bade me abstainfrom questions; so that as the darkness deepened behind him, and thefirelight played more and more strongly on his features, and I thoughtof the leagues of woodland that lay between this remote valley andAuch, I recalled the Cardinal's warning that if I failed in my attempt Ishould be little likely to trouble Paris again.

  The lout by the window paid no attention to me; nor I to him, when Ihad once satisfied myself that he was really what he seemed to be.But by-and-by two or three men--rough, uncouth fellows--dropped in toreinforce the landlord, and they, too seemed to have no other businessthan to sit in silence looking at me, or now and again to exchange aword in a PATOIS of their own. By the time my supper was ready, theknaves numbered six in all; and, as they were armed to a man with hugeSpanish knives, and made it clear that they resented my presence intheir dull rustic fashion--every rustic is suspicious--I began to thinkthat, unwittingly, I had put my head into a wasps' nest.

  Nevertheless, I ate and drank with apparent appetite; but little thatpassed within the circle of light cast by the smoky lamp escaped me. Iwatched the men's looks and gestures at least as sharply as they watchedmine; and all the time I was racking my wits for some mode of disarmingtheir suspicions, or failing that, of learning something more of theposition, which far exceeded in difficulty and danger anything that Ihad expected. The whole valley, it would seem, was on the look-out toprotect my man!

  I had purposely brought with me from Auch a couple of bottles of choiceArmagnac; and these had been carried into the house with my saddle bags.I took one out now and opened it and carelessly offered a dram of thespirit to the landlord. He took it. As he drank it, I saw his faceflush; he handed back the cup reluctantly, and on that hint I offeredhim another, The strong spirit was already beginning to work, and heaccepted, and in a few minutes began to talk more freely and with lessof the constraint which had before marked us all. Still, his tongue ranchiefly on questions--he would know this, he would learn that; but eventhis was a welcome change. I told him openly whence I had come, by whatroad, how long I had stayed in Auch, and where; and so far I satisfiedhis curiosity. Only, when I came to the subject of my visit toCocheforet I kept a mysterious silence, hinting darkly at business inSpain and friends across the border, and this and that; in this waygiving the peasants to understand, if they pleased, that I was in thesame interest as their exiled master.

  They took the bait, winked at one another, and began to look at me i
na more friendly way--the landlord foremost. But when I had led them sofar, I dared go no farther, lest I should commit myself and be foundout. I stopped, therefore, and, harking back to general subjects,chanced to compare my province with theirs. The landlord, now becomealmost talkative, was not slow to take up this challenge; and itpresently led to my acquiring a curious piece of knowledge. He wasboasting of his great snow mountains, the forests that propped them, thebears that roamed in them, the izards that loved the ice, and the boarsthat fed on the oak mast.

  'Well,' I said, quite by chance, 'we have not these things, it is true.But we have things in the north you have not. We have tens of thousandsof good horses--not such ponies as you breed here. At the horse fair atFecamp my sorrel would be lost in the crowd. Here in the south you willnot meet his match in a long day's journey.'

  'Do not make too sure of that,' the man replied, his eyes bright withtriumph and the dram. 'What would you say if I showed you a better--inmy own stable?'

  I saw that his words sent a kind of thrill through his other hearers,and that such of them as understood for two or three of them talkedtheir PATOIS only--looked at him angrily; and in a twinkling I began tocomprehend. But I affected dullness, and laughed in scorn.

  'Seeing is believing,' I said. 'I doubt if you knows good horse when yousee one, my friend.'

  'Oh, don't I?' he said, winking. 'Indeed!'

  'I doubt it,' I answered stubbornly.

  'Then come with me, and I will show you one,' he retorted, discretiongiving way to vain-glory. His wife and the others, I saw, looked at himdumbfounded; but, without paying any heed to them, he rose, took upa lanthorn, and, assuming an air of peculiar wisdom, opened the door.'Come with me,' he continued. 'I don't know a good horse when I see one,don't I? I know a better than yours, at any rate!'

  I should not have been surprised if the other men had interfered; butI suppose he was a leader among them, they did not, and in a moment wewere outside. Three paces through the darkness took us to the stable, anoffset at the back of the inn. My man twirled the pin, and, leading theway in, raised his lanthorn. A horse whinnied softly, and turned itsbright, mild eyes on us--a baldfaced chestnut, with white hairs in itstail and one white stocking.

  'There!' my guide exclaimed, waving the lanthorn to and fro boastfully,that I might see its points. 'What do you say to that? Is that anundersized pony?'

  'No,' I answered, purposely stinting my praise. 'It is pretty fair--forthis country.'

  'Or any country,' he answered wrathfully. 'Or any country, I say--Idon't care where it is! And I have reason to know! Why, man, that horseis--But there, that is a good horse, if ever you saw one!' And withthat he ended--abruptly and lamely; lowered the lanthorn with a suddengesture, and turned to the door. He was on the instant in such hurry toleave that he almost shouldered me out.

  But I understood. I knew that he had neatly betrayed all--that he hadbeen on the point of blurting out that that was M. de Cocheforet'shorse! M. Cocheforet's COMPRENEZ BIEN! And while I turned away my facein the darkness that he might not see me smile, I was not surprisedto find the man in a moment changed, and become, in the closing of thedoor, as sober and suspicious as before, ashamed of himself and enragedwith me, and in a mood to cut my throat for a trifle.

  It was not my cue to quarrel, however. I made therefore, as if Ihad seen nothing, and when we were back in the inn praised the horsegrudgingly, and like a man but half convinced. The ugly looks and uglyweapons I saw round me were fine incentives to caution; and no Italian,I flatter myself, could have played his part more nicely than I did. ButI was heartily glad when it was over, and I found myself, at last, leftalone for the night in a little garret--a mere fowl-house--upstairs,formed by the roof and gable walls, and hung with strings of apples andchestnuts. It was a poor sleeping-place--rough, chilly, and unclean. Iascended to it by a ladder; my cloak and a little fern formed my onlybed. But I was glad to accept it, for it enabled me to be alone and tothink out the position unwatched.

  Of course M. de Cocheforet was at the Chateau. He had left his horsehere, and gone up on foot; probably that was his usual plan. He wastherefore within my reach, in one sense--I could not have come at abetter time--but in another he was as much beyond it as if I were stillin Paris. For so far was I from being able to seize him that I dared notask a question, or let fall a rash word, or even look about me freely.I saw I dared not. The slightest hint of my mission, the faintest breathof distrust, would lead to throat-cutting--and the throat would be mine;while the longer I lay in the village, the greater suspicion I shouldincur, and the closer would be the watch kept upon me.

  In such a position some men might have given up the attempt in despair,and saved themselves across the border. But I have always valued myselfon my fidelity, and I did not shrink. If not to-day, to-morrow; ifnot this time, next time. The dice do not always turn up aces. Bracingmyself, therefore, to the occasion, I crept, as soon as the house wasquiet, to the window, a small, square, open lattice, much cobwebbed, andpartly stuffed with hay. I looked out. The village seemed to be asleep.The dark branches of trees hung a few feet away, and almost obscureda grey, cloudy sky, through which a wet moon sailed drearily. Lookingdownwards, I could at first see nothing; but as my eyes grew used to thedarkness--I had only just put out my rushlight--I made out the stabledoor and the shadowy outlines of the lean-to roof.

  I had hoped for this, for I could now keep watch, and learn at leastwhether Cocheforet left before morning. If he did not, I should knowhe was still here. If he did, I should be the better for seeing hisfeatures, and learning, perhaps, other things that might be of use to mein the future.

  Making up my mind to the uncomfortable, I sat down on the floor by thelattice, and began a vigil that might last, I knew, until morning. Itdid last about an hour, at the end of which time I heard whisperingbelow, then footsteps; then, as some persons turned a corner, a voicespeaking aloud and carelessly. I could not catch the words or meaning,but the voice was a gentleman's, and its bold accents and masterfultone left me in no doubt that the speaker was M. de Cocheforet himself.Hoping to learn more, I pressed my face nearer to the opening, and hadjust made out through the gloom two figures--one that of a tall, slightman, wearing a cloak, the other, I fancied, a woman's, in a sheeny whitedress--when a thundering rap on the door of my garret made me springback a yard from the lattice, and lie down hurriedly on my couch. Thesummons was repeated.

  'Well?' I cried, rising on my elbow, and cursing the untimelyinterruption. I was burning with anxiety to see more. 'What is it? Whatis the matter?'

  The trap-door was lifted a foot or more. The landlord thrust up hishead.

  'You called, did you not?' he said.

  He held up a rushlight, which illumined half the room and lit up hisgrinning face.

  'Called--at this hour of the night, you fool?' I answered angrily. 'No!I did not call. Go to bed, man!'

  But he remained on the ladder, gaping stupidly. 'I heard you,' he said.

  'Go to bed! You are drunk,' I answered, sitting up. 'I tell you I didnot call.'

  'Oh, very well,' he answered slowly. 'And you do not want anything?'

  'Nothing--except to be left alone,' I replied sourly.

  'Umph!' he said. 'Good-night!'

  'Good-night! Good-night!' I answered with what patience I might. Thetramp of the horse's hoofs as it was led out of the stable was in myears at the moment. 'Good-night!' I continued feverishly, hoping that hewould still retire in time, and I have a chance to look out. 'I want tosleep.'

  'Good,' he said, with a broad grin. 'But it is early yet, and you haveplenty of time.'

  And then, at last, he slowly let down the trap-door, and I heard himchuckle as he went down the ladder.

  Before he reached the bottom I was at the window. The woman, whom I hadseen, still stood below in the same place, and beside her was a man ina peasant's dress, holding a lanthorn. But the man, the man I wantedto see, was no longer there. He was gone, and it was evident that theothers no longer feared m
e; for while I gazed the landlord came out tothem with another lanthorn swinging in his hand, and said something tothe lady, and she looked up at my window and laughed.

  It was a warm night, and she wore nothing over her white dress. I couldsee her tall, shapely figure and shining eyes, and the firm contour ofher beautiful face, which, if any fault might be found with it, erredin being too regular. She looked like a woman formed by nature tomeet dangers and difficulties, and to play a great part; even here, atmidnight, in the midst of these desperate men, she did not seem out ofplace. I could fancy--I did not find it impossible to fancy--that underher queenly exterior, and behind the contemptuous laugh with which sheheard the landlord's story, there lurked a woman's soul, a soul capableof folly and tenderness. But no outward sign betrayed its presence--as Isaw her then.

  I scanned her very carefully; and secretly, if the truth be told, I wasglad to find that Madame de Cocheforet was such a woman. I was glad thatshe had laughed as she had--with a ring of disdain and defiance; gladthat she was not a little, tender, child-like woman, to be crushedby the first pinch of trouble. For if I succeeded in my task, if Icontrived to--but, pish! Women, I told myself, were all alike. She wouldfind consolation quickly enough.

  I watched until the group broke up, and Madame, with one of the men,went her way round the corner of the inn, and out of my sight. Then Iretired to bed again, feeling more than ever perplexed what course Ishould adopt. It was clear that to succeed I must obtain admission tothe house, which was garrisoned, according to my instructions, by twoor three old men-servants only, and as many women; since Madame, todisguise her husband's visits the more easily, lived, and gave out thatshe lived, in great retirement. To seize her husband at home, therefore,might be no impossible task; though here, in the heart of the village, atroop of horse might make the attempt, and fail.

  But how was I to gain admission to the house--a house guarded byquick-witted women, and fenced with all the precautions love coulddevise? That was the question; and dawn found me still debating it,still as far as ever from an answer. Anxious and feverish, I was gladwhen the light came, and I could get up. I thought that the freshair might inspire me, and I was tired of my stuffy closet. I creptstealthily down the ladder, and managed to pass unseen through the lowerroom, in which several persons were snoring heavily. The outer door wasnot fastened, and in a hand-turn I was in the street.

  It was still so early that the trees stood up black against thereddening sky, but the bough upon the post before the door was growinggreen, and in a few minutes the grey light would be everywhere. Already,even in the roadway, there was a glimmering of it; and as I stood at thecorner of the house--where I could command both the front and the sideon which the stable opened--sniffing the fresh air, and looking forany trace of the midnight departure, my eyes detected somethinglight-coloured lying on the ground. It was not more than two or threepaces from me, and I stepped to it and picked it up curiously, hopingthat it might be a note. It was not a note, however, but a tinyorange-coloured sachet such as women carry in the bosom. It was fullof some faintly-scented powder, and bore on one side the initial 'E,'worked in white silk; and was altogether a dainty little toy, such aswomen love.

  Doubtless Madame de Cocheforet had dropped it in the night. I turned itover and over; and then I put it in my pouch with a smile, thinking thatit might be useful sometime, and in some way. I had scarcely done this,and turned with the intention of exploring the street, when the doorbehind me creaked on its leather hinges, and in a moment the host stoodat my elbow, and gave me a surly greeting.

  Evidently his suspicions were again aroused, for from this time hemanaged to be with me, on one pretence or another until noon. Moreover,his manner grew each moment more churlish, his hints plainer; untilI could scarcely avoid noticing the one or the other. About mid-day,having followed me for the twentieth time into the street, he came tothe point by asking me rudely if I did not need my horse.

  'No,' I said. 'Why do you ask?'

  'Because,' he answered, with an ugly smile, 'this is not a very healthyplace for strangers.'

  'Ah!' I retorted. 'But the border air suits me, you see,'

  It was a lucky answer, for, taken with my talk the night before, itpuzzled him, by suggesting that I was on the losing side, and had myreasons for lying near Spain. Before he had done scratching his headover it, the clatter of hoofs broke the sleepy quiet of the villagestreet, and the lady I had seen the night before rode quickly round thecorner, and drew her horse on to its haunches. Without looking at me,she called to the innkeeper to come to her stirrup.

  He went. The moment his back was turned, I slipped away, and in atwinkling was hidden by a house. Two or three glum-looking fellowsstared at me as I passed down the street, but no one moved; and in twominutes I was clear of the village, and in a half-worn track which ranthrough the wood, and led--if my ideas were right--to the Chateau.To discover the house and learn all that was to be learned about itssituation were my most pressing needs; and these, even at the risk of aknife thrust, I was determined to satisfy.

  I had not gone two hundred paces along the path, however, before Iheard the tread of a horse behind me, and I had just time to hide myselfbefore Madame came up and rode by me, sitting her horse gracefully, andwith all the courage of a northern woman. I watched her pass, and then,assured by her presence that I was in the right road, I hurried afterher. Two minutes walking at speed brought me to a light wooden bridgespanning a stream. I crossed this, and, as the wood opened, saw beforeme first a wide, pleasant meadow, and beyond this a terrace. On theterrace, pressed upon on three sides by thick woods, stood a greymansion, with the corner tourelles, steep, high roofs, and roundbalconies, that men loved and built in the days of the first Francis.

  It was of good size, but wore a gloomy aspect. A great yew hedge, whichseemed to enclose a walk or bowling-green, hid the ground floor of theeast wing from view, while a formal rose garden, stiff even in neglect,lay in front of the main building. The west wing, of which the lowerroofs fell gradually away to the woods, probably contained the stablesand granaries.

  I stood a moment only, but I marked all, and noted how the road reachedthe house, and which windows were open to attack; then I turned andhastened back. Fortunately, I met no one between the house and thevillage, and was able to enter my host's with an air of the mostcomplete innocence.

  Short as had been my absence, however, I found things altered there.Round the door lounged three strangers--stout, well-armed fellows, whosebearing, as they loitered and chattered, suggested a curious mixture ofsmugness and independence. Half a dozen pack-horses stood tethered tothe post in front of the house; and the landlord's manner, from beingrude and churlish only, had grown perplexed and almost timid. One ofthe strangers, I soon found, supplied him with wine; the others weretravelling merchants, who rode in the first one's company for the sakeof safety. All were substantial men from Tarbes--solid burgesses; andI was not long in guessing that my host, fearing what might leak outbefore them, and, particularly, that I might refer to the previousnight's disturbance, was on tenter-hooks while they remained.

  For a time this did not suggest anything to me. But when we had alltaken our seats for supper, there came an addition to the party. Thedoor opened, and the fellow whom I had seen the night before with Madamede Cocheforet entered and took a stool by the fire. I felt sure thathe was one of the servants at the Chateau; and in a flash his presenceinspired me with the most feasible plan for obtaining admission whichI had yet hit upon. I felt myself grow hot at the thought--it seemed sofull of promise, yet so doubtful--and, on the instant, without givingmyself time to think too much, I began to carry it into effect.

  I called for two or three bottles of better wine, and, assuming a jovialair, passed it round the table. When we had drunk a few glasses I fellto talking, and, choosing politics, took the side of the Languedoc partyand the malcontents in so reckless a fashion that the innkeeper wasbeside himself at my imprudence. The merchants, who belonged to theclass with
whom the Cardinal was always most popular, looked firstastonished and then enraged. But I was not to be checked; hints and sourlooks were lost upon me. I grew more outspoken with every glass, I drankto the Rochellois, I swore it would not be long before they raised theirheads again; and, at last, while the innkeeper and his wife were engagedlighting the lamp, I passed round the bottle and called on all for atoast.

  'I'll give you one to begin,' I bragged noisily. 'A gentleman's toast!A southern toast! Here is confusion to the Cardinal, and a health to allwho hate him!'

  'MON DIEU!' one of the strangers cried, springing from his seat ina rage. 'I am not going to stomach that! Is your house a commontreason-hole,' he continued, turning furiously on the landlord, 'thatyou suffer this?'

  'Hoity-toity!' I answered, coolly keeping my seat. 'What is all this?Don't you relish my toast, little man?'

  'No--nor you!' he retorted hotly; 'whoever you may be!'

  'Then I will give you another,' I answered, with a hiccough. 'Perhaps itwill be more to your taste. Here is the Duke of Orleans, and may he soonbe King!'