The Suitors of Yvonne: being a portion of the memoirs of the Sieur Gaston de Luynes, Page 3

  CHAPTER III. THE FIGHT IN THE HORSE-MARKET

  I let him go without a word. There was that in his voice, in his eye,and in the gesture wherewith he bade me hold the door for him, thatcleared my mind of any doubts touching the irrevocable character of hisdetermination. To plead was never an accomplishment of mine; to argue, Isaw, would be to waste the Cardinal's time to no purpose.

  And so I let him go,--and my curse with him,--and from my window Iwatched his coach drive away in the drizzling rain, scattering thecrowd of awe-stricken loiterers who had collected at the rumour of hispresence.

  With a fervent prayer that his patron saint, the devil, might see fitto overset his coach and break his neck before he reached the Palace, Iturned from the window, and called Michelot.

  He was quick to answer my summons, bringing me the frugal measure ofbread and wine wherewith it was my custom to break my fast. Then,whilst I munched my crust, I strode to and fro in the little chamberand exercised my wits to their utmost for a solution to the puzzle hisEminence had set me.

  One solution there was, and an easy one--flight. But I had promisedAndrea de Mancini that I would stand beside him at St. Germain; therewas a slender chance of saving him if I went, whilst, if I stayed away,there would be nothing left for his Eminence to do but to offer upprayers for the rest of his nephew's soul.

  Another idea I had, but it was desperate--and yet, so persistently didmy thoughts revert to it that in the end I determined to accept it.

  I drank a cup of Armagnac, cheered myself with an oath or two, and againI called Michelot. When he came, I asked him if he were acquaintedwith M. de Canaples, to which he replied that he was, having seen thegentleman in my company.

  "Then," I said, "you will repair to M. de Canaples's lodging in the Ruedes Gesvres, and ascertain discreetly whether he be at home. If he is,you will watch the house until he comes forth, then follow him, andbring me word thereafter where he is to be found. Should he be alreadyabroad before you reach the Rue des Gesvres, endeavour to ascertainwhither he has gone, and return forthwith. But be discreet, Michelot.You understand?"

  He assured me that he did, and left me to nurse my unpleasant thoughtsfor half an hour, returning at the end of that time with the informationthat M. de Canaples was seated at dinner in the "Auberge du Soleil."

  Naught could have been more attuned to my purpose, and straightwayI drew on my boots, girt on my sword, and taking my hat and cloak, Isallied out into the rain, and wended my way at a sharp pace towards theRue St. Honore.

  One o'clock was striking as I crossed the threshold of the "Soleil" andflung my dripping cloak to the first servant I chanced upon.

  I glanced round the well-filled room, and at one of the tables I espiedmy quarry in company with St. Auban and Montmedy--the very gentlemenwho were to fight beside him that evening--and one Vilmorin, as arrant acoxcomb and poltroon as could be found in France. With my beaver cockedat the back of my head, and a general bearing that for aggressivenesswould be hard to surpass, I strode up to their table, and stood for amoment surveying them with an insolent stare that made them pause intheir conversation. They raised their noble heads and bestowed upon me alook of haughty and disdainful wonder,--such a look as one might bestowupon a misbehaving lackey,--all save Vilmorin, who, with a coward's keennose for danger, turned slightly pale and fidgeted in his chair. I waswell known to all of them, but my attitude forbade all greeting.

  "Has M. de Luynes lost anything?" St. Auban inquired icily.

  "His wits, mayhap," quoth Canaples with a contemptuous shrug.

  He was a tall, powerfully built man, this Canaples, with a swart, cruelface that was nevertheless not ill-favoured, and a profusion of blackhair.

  "There is a temerity in M. de Canaples's rejoinder that I had not lookedfor," I said banteringly.

  Canaples's brow was puckered in a frown.

  "Ha! And why not, Monsieur?"

  "Why not? Because it is not to be expected that one who fastens quarrelsupon schoolboys would evince the courage to beard Gaston de Luynes."

  "Monsieur!" the four of them cried in chorus, so loudly that the humof voices in the tavern became hushed, and all eyes were turned in ourdirection.

  "M. de Canaples," I said calmly, "permit me to say that I can find nomore fitting expression for the contempt I hold you in than this."

  As I spoke I seized a corner of the tablecloth, and with a sudden tug Iswept it, with all it held, on to the floor.

  Dame! what a scene there was! In an instant the four of them were ontheir feet,--as were half the occupants of the room, besides,--whilstpoor Vilmorin, who stood trembling like a maid who for the first timehears words of love, raised his quavering voice to cry soothingly,"Messieurs, Messieurs!"

  Canaples was livid with passion, but otherwise the calmest in that room,saving perhaps myself. With a gesture he restrained Montmedy and St.Auban.

  "I shall be happy to give Master de Luynes all the proof of my couragethat he may desire, and more, I warrant, than he will relish."

  "Bravely answered!" I cried, with an approving nod and a beaming smile."Be good enough to lead the way to a convenient spot."

  "I have other business at the moment," he answered calmly. "Let us sayto-morrow at--"

  "Faugh!" I broke in scornfully. "I knew it! Confess, Monsieur, thatyou dare not light me now lest you should be unable to keep yourappointments for this evening."

  "Mille diables!" exclaimed St. Auban, "this insolence passes allbounds."

  "Each man in his turn if you please, gentlemen," I replied. "My presentaffair is with M. de Canaples."

  There was a hot answer burning on St. Auban's lips, but Canaples wasbeforehand with him.

  "Par la mort Dieu!" he cried; "you go too far, sir, with your 'dare' and'dare not.' Is a broken gamester, a penniless adventurer, to tell Eugenede Canaples what he dares? Come, sir; since you are eager for the tasteof steel, follow me, and say your prayers as you go."

  With that we left the inn, amidst a prodigious hubbub, and made our wayto the horse-market behind the Hotel Vendome. It was not to be expected,albeit the place we had chosen was usually deserted at such an hour,that after the fracas at the "Soleil" our meeting would go unattended.When we faced each other--Canaples and I--there were at least sometwenty persons present, who came, despite the rain, to watch what theythought was like to prove a pretty fight. Men of position were they forthe most part, gentlemen of the Court with here and there a soldier,and from the manner in which they eyed me methought they favoured me butlittle.

  Our preparations were brief. The absence of seconds disposed of allformalities, the rain made us impatient to be done, and in virtue of itCanaples pompously announced that he would not risk a cold by stripping.With interest did I grimly answer that he need fear no cold when I haddone with him. Then casting aside my cloak, I drew, and, professingmyself also disposed to retain my doublet, we forthwith engaged.

  He was no mean swordsman, this Canaples. Indeed, his reputation wasalready widespread, and in the first shock of our meeting blades I feltthat rumour had been just for once. But I was strangely dispossessedof any doubts touching the outcome; this being due perchance to a vainconfidence in my own skill, perchance to the spirit of contemptuousraillery wherewith I had from the outset treated the affair, and whichhad so taken root in my heart that even when we engaged I still, almostunwittingly, persisted in it.

  In my face and attitude there was the reflection of this bantering,flippant mood; it was to be read in the mocking disdain of my glance, inthe scornful curl of my lip, and even in the turn of my wrist as I putaside my opponent's passes. All this, Canaples must have noted, and itwas not without effect upon his nerves. Moreover, there is in steel asubtle magnetism which is the index of one's antagonist; and from themoment that our blades slithered one against the other I make no doubtbut that Canaples grew aware of the confident, almost exultant mood inwhich I met him, and which told him that I was his master. Add to thisthe fact that whilst Canaples's nerves were unstrung by
passion minewere held in check by a mind as calm and cool as though our swords werebaited, and consider with what advantages I took my ground.

  He led the attack fiercely and furiously, as if I were a boy whose guardwas to be borne down by sheer weight of blows. I contented myself withtapping his blade aside, and when at length, after essaying everytrick in his catalogue, he fell back baffled, I laughed a low laugh ofderision that drove him pale with fury.

  Again he came at me, almost before I was prepared for him, and hispoint, parried with a downward stroke and narrowly averted, scratchedmy thigh, but did more damage to my breeches than my skin, in exchangeI touched him playfully on the shoulder, and the sting of it drove himback a second time. He was breathing hard by then, and would fain havepaused awhile for breath, but I saw no reason to be merciful.

  "Now, sir," I cried, saluting him as though our combat were but on thepoint of starting--"to me! Guard yourself!"

  Again our swords clashed, and my blows now fell as swift on his bladeas his had done awhile ago on mine. So hard did I press him that he wasforced to give way before me. Back I drove him pace by pace, hiswrist growing weaker at each parry, each parry growing wider, and theperspiration streaming down his ashen face. Panting he went, in thatbackward flight before my onslaught, defending himself as best he could,never thinking of a riposte--beaten already. Back, and yet back he went,until he reached the railings and could back no farther, and sobroken was his spirit then that a groan escaped him. I answered with alaugh--my mood was lusty and cruel--and thrust at him. Then, eluding hisguard, I thrust again, beneath it, and took him fairly in the middle ofhis doublet.

  He staggered, dropped his rapier, and caught at the railings, where fora moment he hung swaying and gasping. Then his head fell forward, hisgrip relaxed, and swooning he sank down into a heap.

  A dozen sprang to his aid, foremost amongst them being St. Auban andMontmedy, whilst I drew back, suddenly realising my own spent condition,to which the heat of the combat had hitherto rendered me insensible. Imastered myself as best I might, and, dissembling my hard breathing, Iwiped my blade with a kerchief, an act which looked so calm and callousthat it drew from the crowd--for a crowd it had become by then--an angrygrowl. 'T is thus with the vulgar; they are ever ready to sympathisewith the vanquished without ever pausing to ask themselves if hischastisement may not be merited.

  In answer to the growl I tossed my head, and sheathing my sword I flungthe bloodstained kerchief into their very midst. The audacity of thegesture left them breathless, and they growled no more, but stared.

  Then that outrageous fop, Vilmorin, who had been bending over Canaples,started up and coming towards me with a face that was whiter than thatof the prostrate man, he proved himself so utterly bereft of wit byterror that for once he had the temerity to usurp the words and actionsof a brave man.

  "You have murdered him!" he cried in a strident voice, and thrusting hisclenched fist within an inch of my face. "Do you hear me, you knave? Youhave murdered him!"

  Now, as may be well conceived, I was in no mood to endure such wordsfrom any man, so was but natural that for answer I caught the daintyVicomte a buffet that knocked him into the arms of the nearestbystander, and brought him to his senses.

  "Fool," I snarled at him, "must I make another example before youbelieve that Gaston de Luynes wears a sword?"

  "In the name of Heaven--" he began, putting forth his hands in abeseeching gesture; but what more he said was drowned by the roar ofanger that burst from the onlookers, and it was like to have gone illwith me had not St. Auban come to my aid at that most critical juncture.

  "Messieurs!" he cried, thrusting himself before me, and raising his handto crave silence, "hear me. I, a friend of M. de Canaples, tell you thatyou wrong M. de Luynes. 'T was a fair fight--how the quarrel arose is noconcern of yours."

  Despite his words they still snarled and growled like the misbegottencurs they were. But St. Auban was famous for the regal supper parties hegave, to which all were eager to be bidden, and amidst that crowd, as Ihave said, there were a score or so of gentlemen of the Court, who--withscant regard for the right or wrong of the case and every regard toconciliate this giver of suppers--came to range themselves beside andaround us, and thus protected me from the murderous designs of thatrabble.

  Seeing how the gentlemen took my part, and deeming--in their blessedignorance--that what gentlemen did must be perforce well done, they grewcalm in the twinkling of an eye. Thereupon St. Auban, turning to me,counselled me in a whisper to be gone, whilst the tide of opinion flowedin my favour. Intent to act upon this good advice, I took a step towardsthe little knot that had collected round Canaples, and with naturalcuriosity inquired into the nature of his hurt.

  'T was Montmedy who answered me, scowling as he did so:

  "He may die of it, Monsieur. If he does not, his recovery will be atleast slow and difficult."

  I had been wise had I held my peace and gone; but, like a fool, I mustneeds give utterance to what was in my mind.

  "Ah! At least there will be no duel at St. Germain this evening."

  Scarce had the words fallen from my lips when I saw in the faces ofMontmedy and St. Auban and half a dozen others the evidence of theirrashness.

  "So!" cried St. Auban in a voice that shook with rage. "That was yourobject, eh? That you had fallen low, Master de Luynes, I knew, but Idreamt not that in your fall you had come so low as this."

  "You dare?"

  "Pardieu! I dare more, Monsieur; I dare tell you--you, Gaston de Luynes,spy and bravo of the Cardinal--that your object shall be defeated.That, as God lives, this duel shall still be fought--by me instead ofCanaples."

  "And I tell you, sir, that as God lives it shall not," I answered with avehemence not a whit less than his own. "To you and to what other foolsmay think to follow in your footsteps, I say this: that not to-nightnor to-morrow nor the next day shall that duel be fought. Cowards andpoltroons you are, who seek to murder a beardless boy who has injurednone of you! But, by my soul! every man who sends a challenge to thatboy will I at once seek out and deal with as I have dealt with Eugene deCanaples. Let those who are eager to try another world make the attempt.Adieu, Messieurs!"

  And with a flourish of my sodden beaver, I turned and left them beforethey had recovered from the vehemence of my words.