My Sword's My Fortune Part 17
"Suppose the lady refuses to surrender them, my Lord?"
"You will search her room, while this _lettre de cachet_ will secure her a lodging in the Bastille. If, on the other hand, she has the good sense to yield quietly, you will simply escort her to her chateau. The carriage will be in readiness."
I told him of the soldiers stationed in the corridor, and once more left the house. The night was growing late, and the streets, in spite of the _falots_ filled with burning pitch, and the dingy lamps suspended by chains pa.s.sing from one side of the road to the other, were almost in darkness.
But Paris was wide awake and unduly excited. Swarms of people of the lowest cla.s.s, unkempt, ragged, and frowsy, but all armed in some fashion, were prowling around intent on mischief, and cheering for De Retz. Bands of Black Mantles, grave and preoccupied as became owners of property, guarded the shops, in dread equally of the _canaille_ and the n.o.bles.
These last swaggered about showing off their finery, singing noisily, and occasionally compelling the pa.s.sers-by to cheer for Conde. Now and again a coach, preceded by lackeys bearing flambeaux, would roll by, conveying ladies of distinction to or from some brilliant a.s.sembly.
At the corner of the Rue Crillon I looked for M. Belloc, but some time pa.s.sed before he appeared, and then I could see nothing of a carriage.
"In the yard of the 'Plume of Feathers,'" said he, in answer to my question; "it would attract too much attention standing here. Paris is in a turmoil to-night. I do not like the signs. The people are restless without knowing why, though there is some talk of Conde's returning."
"The Cardinal has first to unlock the door," I replied, at which the old warrior smiled grimly, thinking such a proceeding on Mazarin's part very unlikely.
"Why is the carriage required?" he asked.
"To convey Madame Coutance either to the Bastille or to her own place at Aunay. It is a troublesome business," and I explained just what my orders were.
"Better get it over at once," he suggested, "it will be none the pleasanter for delay;" so, putting a bold face on the matter, I walked to the door of the house, and inquired for Madame Coutance.
"She is not at home, monsieur," replied the porter. "Both the ladies went out early this evening with Madame de Chevreuse."
I put several further questions, but the porter was either a very stupid man or a very faithful servant--he knew nothing, and I had to retire baffled.
"They will return soon," said my companion, when I rejoined him, "unless madame has received a hint of her danger."
"That is hardly probable! Even Mazarin had no suspicion until an hour ago. But he will begin to wonder if anything has gone wrong."
At the end of half an hour a carriage drew up before the door, and Marie and her aunt descended. They stood for a moment on the top of the steps, and then, as the vehicle pa.s.sed on, entered the house.
Leaving our post of observation, we crossed the road, and the servant, showing us into an ante-room, went to announce my name.
"Get it over quickly," whispered M. Belloc, as the man returned. "Most likely there will be a few tears, but you must not mind those."
I did not feel particularly happy as I followed the servant along the corridor. The errand was far from my liking, and I would rather have stormed a breach; but, as I ate Mazarin's bread, it was my duty to obey his orders.
The ladies were seated in a small but luxuriously appointed room, and Madame Coutance welcomed me with embarra.s.sing warmth.
"The hour is somewhat late," she said, "but I expect the Cardinal keeps your time fully occupied. You do not favour us with much of your company."
"I am very unwilling to be here now," I blurted out, not knowing what else to say. "The fact is, I have come on an unwelcome errand," and, producing Martin's note, added, "that will explain the object of my visit."
I scarcely dared glance at Marie, who remained very still while her aunt was reading.
M. Belloc had warned me to expect a few tears, but, instead of weeping, Madame Coutance launched into an angry speech against Mazarin, whom she called a wicked and infamous man, and concluded by a blunt refusal to surrender any papers whatever.
"But," I suggested feebly, being overwhelmed by her torrent of words, "you have no choice in the matter, madame. Unless you give me this list of your own free will, my orders are to lodge you in the Bastille, and to search your rooms."
"And if my aunt yields the papers?" asked Marie, who, I fancy, was rather alarmed at the mention of the Bastille.
"In that case, mademoiselle, the affair ends with a trip to Aunay. A carriage is outside, and in ten minutes we leave for one place or the other."
"Come, _ma chere_," said the girl soothingly, "you must submit. Life in the Bastille cannot be nearly as pleasant as at Aunay."
Madame Coutance opened a desk which stood in a corner of the tiny room, and drew out a roll of paper.
"There is what your master wants!" she exclaimed angrily, "but let him take care; it will be our turn soon."
"Do you accompany us to Aunay?" asked Marie.
"Yes, with an escort of troopers; for all the world as if you were two desperate prisoners. I am really sorry, but perhaps you will object less to me than to some rough soldier."
"Indeed we shall," she replied. "When do we start?"
"As soon as madame is ready," I answered. "The Cardinal likes not delay."
"In an hour then, though I do not care for travelling by night."
"The carriage is roomy and comfortable; there is no danger, and perhaps you will be able to sleep on the journey."
Bowing to the ladies, I rejoined Belloc, who was waiting impatiently in the ante-room.
"Well?" he exclaimed.
"It is all right. Here is the paper, and we leave for Aunay in an hour. I am not looking forward with any pleasure to the journey, I can a.s.sure you!"
"You are obeying orders," said he, taking the paper. "Now I must return to the Cardinal; and, by the by, take care of yourself! The troopers will be sufficient protection against robbers, but, should you meet with any of Conde's friends, you may have to fight."
"I hope not, at least until the ladies are safely disposed of."
Wishing me good-bye, he walked away at a rapid pace, while I, glad of the chance to divert my thoughts, paid a visit to the inn. The troopers, who were in charge of a grizzled sergeant, had dismounted, and were amusing themselves in a small room looking into the courtyard.
The sergeant saluted, listened respectfully to my order, and accompanied me to inspect the carriage and horses.
"Are we going far, monsieur?"
"Two or three days' journey. I hope you can depend on your men? The ride may not be altogether a holiday jaunt."
"I chose them myself, monsieur. They would as soon fight as eat, and have all been in many a rough scrimmage."
"They may be in another before long!" said I, remembering M. Belloc's words; and then, bidding him have all in readiness, I returned to the house, wishing that Mazarin had entrusted this particular commission to any but myself.
Yet, after all, the Cardinal had acted very generously. There was really no great hardship in being sent to one's country seat, and I suspected that Marie would rather enjoy the change. As to her aunt, she would find it irksome, being a woman who could not live without excitement of some sort.
Presently the carriage rumbled to the door, and jumping up, I hurried into the hall, nearly falling over the servants, who were carrying rugs and shawls and various packages to the main entrance. When the parcels were stowed away, I stepped forward to a.s.sist the ladies into the coach, but Madame Coutance, who was still very sulky, haughtily declined my proffered help. However, I saw them safely in, had the leathern coverings let down to exclude the night air, posted the troopers in front of the carriage, mounted the spare horse--a splendid animal by the way--and gave the word for the gate St. Denis.
It was fortunate that the ladies had prevented an earlier start.
Although late, numerous citizens were still abroad, and their curiosity made them troublesome. Twice the troopers were compelled to clear a way for the coach by force, and, had the streets been more crowded, we should never have reached the gate.