Название | My Sword's My Fortune |
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Автор произведения | Herbert Hayens |
Жанр | Языкознание |
Серия | |
Издательство | Языкознание |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 4064066210106 |
"That is strange! I thought he already had callers this morning."
Gazing at me in profound astonishment, the man exclaimed, "Visitors here, monsieur? Impossible! You are the first to call."
"I must have been mistaken, then," said I, with assumed calmness, but really more perplexed than ever. Unless my eyes had deceived me, the man was not speaking truly—but why? Surely his master was at liberty to receive anyone who chose to visit him!
Then another idea struck me. If Henri was one of the two men who had entered the house, were we likely to meet? and if so, what would happen? I had done his cause much harm, and had besides made him a laughing-stock for the wits of Paris. Martin was no fighting man, and the odds against me would be at least two to one. It seemed as if I had stumbled again by accident into a hornet's nest.
While I brooded over these things the man fumbled with the door, taking so long to replace the bars that I called on him sharply to make more haste.
"I am ready, monsieur; this way," and he led me along the well-known passage, up the crazy staircase, and so to the corridor, where on my recent visit a soldier had kept guard.
Opening the door of the room in which I had first met Mazarin, the man requested me to step inside and wait a moment or two whilst his master dressed. The apartment appeared empty, but I kept my hand on my sword, and was careful to peer behind the curtain. Rather, perhaps, to my surprise no one was there; so I returned to the middle of the room and stood by the table. In truth I felt very uneasy, and wished myself safely in the street.
Five anxious minutes passed before the astrologer entered. He was attired in dressing-gown, skull-cap, and slippers, and by his face one would judge that he really had been keeping vigil all night.
"I regret to have kept you waiting," he said, with an air of apology, "but your visit is somewhat early."
"Yet it seems I am not the first to need your services this morning."
"How?" exclaimed he. "You are mistaken. No one but yourself has been here since yesterday."
"Well, I was certainly under the impression that two men entered this house, as I approached it. But it is no concern of mine, except that their presence might interfere with my errand. Be kind enough to read this note, and to give me a written reply for the Cardinal."
Breaking the seal, he read the missive, and sitting down, rapidly covered a sheet of paper with small, cramped, but legible writing, while I stood on guard and alert, half expecting a sudden attack from some unknown enemies.
However, nothing unusual happened. The astrologer finished his letter, sealed it, and handed it to me, saying earnestly, "Take care of this, as it is of more consequence than you may imagine. Further, it is necessary that His Eminence should receive it without delay."
"Peste!" answered I laughing; "as my breakfast still waits for me in the Rue des Catonnes I am not likely to waste much time on the road," and, bidding him adieu, I followed the servant, who had remained in the corridor, downstairs.
"Monsieur has discovered his error?" said the fellow, questioningly, as he conducted me along the narrow passage.
"Yes, the men must have gone into the next house. However, it does not matter one way or another. I only feared to be kept waiting."
It was pleasant to be in the open air again, and I drew a deep breath. The janitor barred the door, and I crossed the road in a state of bewilderment. That two men had entered the house I felt positive, and the more so from the odd behaviour of Martin and his servant. Who were they? What did they want? Why had Martin lied about the matter? These questions, and others like them, kept my brain busily employed, but to no purpose. I could supply no satisfactory answers, and every passing moment left me more perplexed.
It struck me once that Martin was playing the Cardinal false, but this seemed absurd, and yet——
"No, no," I muttered, "he would not dare. Still, there is something going on with which Mazarin should be made acquainted."
I did not relish the idea of playing the spy, but I was breaking no confidence, and, after all, it was necessary to protect one's own friends. My plan was soon formed. I walked along the narrow street, waited five minutes at the farther end, and returned cautiously to a dingy cabaret, from which a good view of the house could be obtained.
"Now," thought I, "unless my wits are wool-gathering, I am about to behold a miracle. I am going to see two men leave a place which they did not enter. Surely this Martin is something more than an astrologer?"
For nearly an hour I remained with my eyes fixed on the door, which, however, remained closed, and I began to feel a trifle discouraged. What if I had discovered a mare's nest? The important letter was still in my pocket, and Mazarin would be none too pleased at the delay. Perhaps it would be best to abandon the enterprise and to return at once.
I had almost resolved on this plan when two men strolled past the inn. Filled with amazement, I rose quickly, and went into the street. The door of the astrologer's house was shut; in truth it had not been opened, yet here were my mysterious strangers several yards in front of me! Rubbing my eyes, I wondered if I had made a second blunder! But that was impossible, and the idea not worth considering. While I stood thus, dazed and half-stupefied by the strangeness of the affair, the men had walked half-way along the street.
Paris was now fully awake, the shops were open, people were hurrying to their daily tasks, and the number of persons abroad made it difficult to keep sight of my quarry. Several times the men stopped, and glanced behind, as if afraid of being followed, but they did not notice me, and, after a long roundabout journey, we all reached the Rue St. Dominique.
Here the strangers, evidently concluding that caution was no longer necessary, pushed back their hats and drew their cloaks from their faces. It was as I had suspected from the first—the tall man was my cousin Henri, but his companion was unknown to me. Taking a good look, in order to describe him to Mazarin, I found him to be a short, dark man, with an ugly face, but beautiful white teeth. His eyes were beady and restless, he was bandy-legged, and walked with a peculiarly awkward gait.
Half-way along the street the two stopped outside a handsome building, conversed earnestly together for several minutes, and then, ascending the steps, disappeared.
"Pouf!" I exclaimed. "What can that little bandy-legged fellow be doing at the Hotel de Chevreuse? I wager he and my cousin are brewing some fresh mischief."
As no good could possibly come from further waiting, I turned away, and hurried back to the Palais Royal, eager to inform Mazarin of my discovery, and to get my breakfast. Roland Belloc met me in the courtyard, and held up a warning finger.
"You are in disgrace, my friend," said he, gravely; "the Cardinal has been waiting for you a long time. He has sent out repeatedly in the last hour to ask if you had returned."
"He will forgive the delay—I have discovered something of importance."
Dressed in his ceremonial robes, the Cardinal sat at the table, with an ominous frown on his face.
"The letter!" he cried impatiently, directly on my entrance. "Where is Martin's list? By my faith, M. de Lalande, you do well to keep Her Majesty waiting a whole hour!" and he took the paper from my hand somewhat ungraciously.
The letter apparently contained good news, and the Cardinal, smiling almost joyously, rose to leave the room.
"One moment, my Lord," I observed, "I have something to tell you which may be important."
"It must stay till after the audience; I cannot keep the Queen waiting longer. I shall return in an hour or two. Meanwhile Bernouin will see that you obtain some breakfast," and he summoned his secretary.
"M. de Lalande has not breakfasted," said he. "I leave him in your charge. Meanwhile I can see no one. Do you understand?"
Bernouin, a man of few words, responded by a low bow.
After