CHAPTER XXII

L'Estang Tells His Story

Spring had ripened into summer, and I was still at Le Blanc, not having heard from my patron, and being unwilling to depart without his orders.

Cordel had gone to Paris, and, for the time at least, had abandoned his schemes.

One day, about the third week in June, I had just returned from a morning gallop when Jacques met me in the courtyard with the news that Ambroise Devine had brought me a packet from Monsieur Bellievre.

I had almost forgotten the man, never having seen him since the morning when I started on the memorable journey to Tanlay.

"It is along while since we met," I said, greeting him. "My father told me you recovered from your wounds, and I expected to find you in Roch.e.l.le."

"Roch.e.l.le forms my headquarters, so to speak, monsieur, but I am in the hands of the chiefs. My last journey was to Flanders, whence I am now returning. Hearing that I was on my way to Roch.e.l.le, Monsieur Bellievre entrusted me with this packet for you."

"You must stay and have a gossip with me," said I, having thanked him; "I hear little news from the outside world."

"You honour me, monsieur; but it is necessary for me to push on with all speed; I am carrying important despatches."

"But you need refreshment!"

"Jacques has seen to that, monsieur, and also to my horse."

"We may meet again," I said, as he took his leave.

"It is very likely. There will be a gathering of our gentlemen in Paris before long; but doubtless Monsieur Bellievre has told you all the news."

When he had gone I sat down eagerly to read my comrade's letter. There was a smaller packet enclosed, but that I set aside. Felix wrote at some length, and his first item of news was very startling.

"It will cause you both grief and astonishment," he wrote, "to learn of the death of our good Queen Joan. She died on June 9, and some talk has pa.s.sed of her having been poisoned. There is, however, a great deal of sickness here, and from what Jeanne tells me, I think the poor queen took fever."

"This may cause events to move more rapidly," I thought. "Now that Henry has become King of Navarre, he is a person of even greater importance.

Charles will need to reckon with him."

"Our patron," Felix continued, "remains in close attendance on the king, who treats him with the utmost kindness, and even respect. The Guises are in despair, Monseigneur is furious, and even the Queen-Mother has to swallow her pride. This is strange, is it not?"

"Strange!" I exclaimed aloud, "it is a miracle! What else does this wonderful budget contain?"

"Our patron has a grand scheme in his head. He is working hard to unite the Huguenots and the Moderate Catholics into a national party, and to declare war against Spain. The king has nearly consented, and unless the Queen-Mother regains her power war may break out at any moment."

"Better to fight the Spaniards than to cut each other's throats," I muttered.

"I have kept my best news until the last," the letter continued. "Our patron believes the coming war will afford you the chance needed. He will nominate you to a commission, and present you to the king at the same time. For this purpose you must be here, and I am to instruct you to repair at once to the _Hotel Coligny_, at Paris. Is not this glorious news?"

I had scarcely patience to finish the letter, feeling more inclined to jump up and dance around the room; and yet the ending was full of strange interest.

"A week ago, a man, closely m.u.f.fled, who refused to give his name, sought me out late at night. He wished, he said, to communicate with you, but for a special reason preferred to send in an indirect way. He finished by asking me to enclose a note the first time I was sending any correspondence to Le Blanc. It sounded very mysterious, but thinking a letter could not work much mischief I consented."

"That is odd," I thought, looking at the smaller packet, which bore no address, and opening it I read in Renaud L'Estang's handwriting--

"Monsieur, I fear something has gone wrong. Did you receive my letter? My messenger has not returned, and I can hear no word of him. I am too busily engaged to leave Monseigneur, and I do not care to send to you openly.

Cordel either suspects or knows that I am your friend.

D'ANGELY."

Calling Jacques, I handed the note to him, and asked his opinion.

"It does not help us a bit," he declared; "it explains nothing. If L'Estang is a false friend, as I believe, he is merely trying by this note to throw dust into your eyes. If, on the other hand, he was not a party to the plot, the mystery remains the same."

"I fear you are right, Jacques. However, let us not trouble our heads with the riddle; it will solve itself one of these days. I have other news; can you guess what it is?"

"By your face, monsieur, it should be something pleasant: the king has signed those tiresome papers!"

"Not exactly right," I answered laughing, "but I have hope of that happening in time. We are going to Paris, Jacques. There is likely to be war with Spain, and I am to receive the king's commission. It will be better than fighting against those of our own race and blood; and if we come through the campaign alive, Monsieur Cordel may even cast his eyes on some other person's estates."

"When do we start?" asked Jacques eagerly.

"I have a few arrangements to make. Let us say the day after to-morrow."

"Very good, monsieur, but it is a long time to wait."

The lawyer was still absent from his house, but in case any of his spies should carry information, Jacques let it be known the next morning that in a few days we were going to La Roch.e.l.le; nor did I give my own servants any different information.

It was a glorious summer morning when we set forth: the sun shone brightly in a blue sky thinly flaked with snowy clouds; the birds carolled joyously; the green leaves, made brilliant by the sunlight, danced in the gentle breeze; a fresh, sweet smell rose from the fragrant earth.

Many a long day had pa.s.sed since my heart had felt so light, and as we cantered into the highroad I hummed a gay refrain. I felt as if this was bound to prove the most successful of our ventures.

I had real hope as a foundation on which to rear my airy castle. The war of Religion was over and done with; Huguenot and Catholic would stand shoulder to shoulder against the common foe; Monseigneur, the Guises, and all those who were striving for their own interests to embroil the country in civil strife would have to stand aside; France would at length be united, and therefore strong.

My own private fortunes also wore a rosy tint that morning. Even if the king did not restore my estates at the outset, he would certainly not refuse to do so after I had fought his battles, and perhaps helped to gain his victories! No, I had not a single fear when I turned to take a last lingering view of the castle of Le Blanc.

As a matter of precaution we rode a few miles in the direction of La Roch.e.l.le, but neither Jacques nor I expected that any further attempt would be made upon us in that part of the country. Cordel was most probably in Paris, and could have no knowledge of our sudden departure from Le Blanc. In fact we reached Paris without any mishap, save the casting of a horse's shoe, and the loss of a few hours one night when we went astray in the darkness.

We entered Paris a little before the gate was closed for the night. It was still very light, and the streets were filled with people, very few of whom, however, took much notice of us. The capital was utterly strange to me, and I knew nothing of Coligny's residence, except that it was situated in the Rue de l'Arbre Sec. Overtaking an officer of the king's guards I asked to be directed to that street, and he very courteously undertook to conduct me part of the way.

"You are a stranger in Paris?" said he, looking critically at me and my servant.

"Yes, I have but now arrived from the south, to meet a friend who lives in the Rue de l'Arbre Sec."

"I should fancy," exclaimed the officer, with a humorous twinkle, "that your friend's residence is not far from the _Hotel Coligny_! Have you borne arms, monsieur?"

"I fought at Arnay-le-Duc," I replied, feeling sure that my questioner had already set me down in his own mind as a Huguenot.

"I was there, too," he said, "but I'll wager we were not on the same side. However, those days are gone, and we may yet have a chance of fighting under the same flag!" to which I replied that nothing would give the members of our party more pleasure.