"Goodness!" the Count said, in surprise; "and yet I do not know you, as far as I am aware, La Grenade – whence, may I ask, comes this great devotion to my person?"
"I am most willing to tell you, sir, if it interests you. I am a friend of M. François Bouillot, to whom I am under certain obligations; he ordered me to serve and obey you in everything."
"That good Bouillot," said the Count. "Very well, my friend, I shall not be ungrateful. I do not want you anymore at present."
The gaoler put some logs on the fire, lit the lamp, and withdrew.
"Well," said the Count, with a laugh, "Heaven forgive me! I believe that, though a prisoner in appearance, I am as much master of this castle as the governor, and that I can leave it without opposition on any day I like. What would the Cardinal think if he knew how his orders were executed?"
He sat down to table, unfolded his napkin, and began dining with a good appetite.
Things went on thus, in the way agreed on between the Governor and his prisoner.
The arrival of Count de Barmont at the fortress had been a windfall for the Major, who, since he had received from the royal munificence the command of this castle as retiring pension, had not once before had an opportunity to derive any profit from the position that had been given him. Hence he promised to make a gold mine of his solitary prisoner; for the Isle of St. Marguerite, as we have already remarked, had not yet acquired the reputation which it merited at a later date as a State prison.
The Count's room was furnished as well as it could be; everything he demanded in the shape of books was procured him, though he had to pay dearly for them, and he was even allowed to walk on the towers.
The Count was happy – so far, at least, as the circumstances in which he found himself allowed him to be so: no one would have supposed, on seeing him work so assiduously at mathematics and navigation, for he applied himself most seriously to the completion of his maritime education, that this man nourished in his heart a thought of implacable vengeance, and that this thought was ever present to him.
At the first blush, the resolution formed by the Count to allow himself to be incarcerated, while it was easy for him to remain free, may seem strange: but the Count was one of those men of granite whose thoughts are immutable, and who, when they have once formed a resolution, after calculating with the utmost coolness all the chances for and against, follow the road they have laid down for themselves, ever marching in a straight line without caring for the obstacles that arise at each step on their path and surmounting them, because they decided from the first that they would do so – characters that grow and are perfected in the struggle, and sooner or later reach the goal they have designed.
The Count understood that any resistance to the Cardinal would result in his own utter ruin; and there was no lack of proofs to support this reasoning: by escaping from the guards who were taking him to prison, he would remain at liberty, it is true, but he would be exiled, obliged to quit France, and wander about in foreign parts alone, isolated, without resources, ever on the watch, forced to hide himself, and reduced to the impossibility of asking, that is to say, of obtaining the necessary information he required to avenge himself on the man who, by robbing him of the wife he loved, had at the same blow not only destroyed his career and fortune, but also eternally ruined his happiness.
He was young, and could wait; vengeance is eaten cold, say the southerners – and the Count came from Languedoc. Besides, as he had said to Bouillot, in a moment of expansiveness, he wished to suffer, in order to kill within him every human feeling that still existed, and to find himself one day armed cap-à-pie to face his enemy.
Cardinal Richelieu and Louis XIII. were both seriously ill. Their death would not fail to produce a change of reign in two, three, or four years at the most, and that catastrophe would arrive, one of whose consequences it is to produce a reaction, and consequently, to open to all the prisoners of the defunct Cardinal the dungeons to which he had condemned them.
The Count was twenty-five years of age: hence time was his own, and the more so because, when restored to liberty, he would enter on all his rights, and as an enemy of Richelieu, be favourably regarded at Court, and, through the temporary credit he would enjoy, be in a condition to regain all the advantage he had lost as concerned his foe.
Only energetically endowed men, who are sure of themselves, are capable of making such calculations, and obstinately pursuing a line of conduct so opposed to all logical combinations; but these men who thus resolutely enlist chance on their side, and reckon on it as a partner, always succeed in what they purpose doing, unless death suddenly cuts them short.
Through the intercession of La Grenade, and the tacit connivance of the Governor, who closed his eyes with a charming inattention, the Count was not only cognizant with all that was going on outside, but also received letters from his friends, which he answered.
One day, after reading a letter which la Grenade had given him when bringing in breakfast, a letter from the Duc de Bellegarde, which had reached him through Michael, for the worthy sailor had refused to leave his Commandant, and had turned fisherman at Antibes, with Bowline as his assistant, the Count sent a message to the Governor, requesting a few minutes' conversation with him.
The Major knew that every visit he paid his prisoner was a profit to him, hence he hastened to his room.
"Have you heard the news, sir?" the Count said at once on seeing him.
"What news, my lord?" the Major asked, in amazement, for he knew nothing.
In fact, placed as he was at the extreme frontier of the kingdom, news, no matter its importance, only reached him, so to speak, by accident.
"The Cardinal Minister is dead, sir. I have just learned it from a sure hand."
"Oh!" said the Major, clasping his hands, for this death might cause him the loss of his place.
"And," the Count added, coldly, "His Majesty King Louis XIII. is at death's door."
"Great heaven, what a misfortune!" exclaimed the Governor.
"This misfortune may be fortunate for you, sir," the Count resumed.
"Fortunate! When I am menaced with the loss of my command! Alas, my lord, what will become of me if I am turned out of here?"
"That might easily, happen," said the Count. "You have, sir, always been a great friend of the defunct Cardinal, and known as such."
"That is, unhappily, too true," the Major muttered, quite out of countenance, and recognizing the truth of this affirmation.
"There is, I think, an advantageous mode of arranging matters."
"What is it, my lord? Speak, I implore you!"
"It is this: listen to me carefully – what I am going to say is very serious for you."
"I am listening, my lord."
"Here is a letter all ready written for the Duc de Bellegarde. You will start at once for Paris, passing through Toulon, where you will cash this draft for 2000 livres, to cover your expenses. The Duke is sincerely attached to me. For my sake he will receive you kindly: you will come to an understanding with him, and obey him in everything he orders."
"Yes, yes, my lord."
"And if within a month from this time at the latest – "
"From this time at the latest – " the Governor repeated, panting with impatience.
"You bring me here my full and entire – pardon, signed by H. M. Louis XIII. – "
"What?" the Governor exclaimed, with a start of surprise.
"I will at once pay you," the Count continued, coldly, "the sum of 50,000 livres, to indemnify you for the loss my liberation must entail on you."
"Fifty thousand livres!" the Major exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with greed.
"Fifty thousand! yes, sir," the Count replied. "And, besides, I pledge myself, if you wish it, to get you confirmed in your command. Is this matter settled?"
"But, my lord, how am I to manage at Paris?"
"Follow the instructions the Duc de Bellegarde will give you."
"What you ask of me is very difficult."
"Not so difficult as you pretend to believe, sir; however, if this mission does not suit you – "
"I did not say that, sir."
"In a word, you can take it or leave it."
"I take it, my lord – I take it. Great heaven! – fifty thousand livres!"
"And you start?"
"Tomorrow."
"No, tonight."
"Very good – tonight."
"All right! Here are the letter and the draft. Oh! by the way, try to put yourself in communication with a fisherman at Antibes of the name of Michael."
"I know him," the Major said, with a smile.
"Indeed!" said the Count. "There would be no harm, either, in your trying to find the exempt who brought me here, one François Bouillot."
"I know where to find him," the Major replied, with the same meaning smile.
"Very good! in that case, my dear Governor, I have nothing more to add, or any recommendations to make to you, beyond wishing you a pleasant journey."
"It will be so, my lord, I pledge you my word."
"It is true that it is a round sum – fifty thousand livres!"
"I shall not forget the amount."
After saying this the Major took leave of his prisoner, and retired, with a profusion of bows.
"I believe that I am going to be free this time!" the Count exclaimed, so soon as he was alone – "Ah! my lord Duke, we are now about to fight with equal weapons!"
CHAPTER IX
MAJOR DE L'OURSIÈRE
Had it been possible for Count de Barmont to notice through the thick oak planks, lined with iron, that formed the door of his prison, the face of the governor on leaving him, he would not have chanted victory so loudly, or believed himself so near his deliverance.
In fact, so soon as the Major had no longer cause to dread his prisoner's clear-sighted glance, his features immediately assumed an expression of cynical malice impossible to render; his half-closed eyes flashed with a gloomy fire beneath his grey eyelids and an ironical smile raised the corners of his pale thin lips.
It was twilight; night was beginning to fall, and confound all objects, by burying them in a dark pall, which momentarily grew denser.
The Major returned to his apartments, put a heavy cloak on his shoulders, pulled his hat over his eyes, and sent for his lieutenant.
The latter presented himself at once.
He was a man of about forty, with a delicate and intelligent face, whose features were imprinted with gentleness and even kindness.
"I am starting this moment, sir," the governor said to him, "for Antibes, whither important business summons me; my absence will probably be prolonged for several days. While I remain absent from the castle, I invest you with the command; watch over its safety, and guard against any attempted escape on the part of the prisoner, though I doubt his making it. Such attempts, though they do not succeed, injure the reputation of a fortress, and the character of its governor."
"I will watch with the greatest care, sir!"
"I am certain of that, sir. Is there any fishing boat in the roads? I should prefer not using the boat belonging to the fortress, as the garrison is so weak."
"The fishing boat you generally use, sir, and which is commanded by one Michael, I think, was alongside the quay hardly an hour ago, but he has probably started to fish outside the reef, as he usually does."
"Hum," said the Major, "even were he still there, I should scruple at making the poor fellow lose so much time in putting me ashore. These fishermen are not rich, and every minute you take from them makes them lose a part of the trifling profit of a long and hard night's work."
The officer bowed, apparently sharing his chief's philanthropic ideas, although his face evidenced the surprise which the expression of such sentiments by a man like the Major caused him.
"Are there no other boats here?" the Major asked, affecting an air of indifference.
"I beg your pardon, sir, a smuggling lugger is just about putting out to sea."
"Very good; warn the master that I wish him to take me on board. Be good enough to make haste, sir, for I am in a hurry."
The officer withdrew to carry out the order given him; the Major took some papers, doubtless important, from an iron casket, hid them under his coat, wrapped himself in his cloak, and left the castle, under the salute of the sentries who presented arms as he passed.
"Well?" he asked the officer who came to meet him.
"I have spoken to the master, sir, he awaits you," the other replied.
"I thank you, sir; now, return to the castle, and watch carefully over its safety till my return."
The officer took leave, and the Major proceeded toward a sort of small quay, where the lugger's yawl was waiting for him.
So soon as the governor was aboard, the smuggler let go the hawser, and set sail.
When the light vessel was well under weigh, the master respectfully walked up to the Major.
"Where are we to steer?" he asked, as he doffed his woollen nightcap.
"Ah, ah! is it you, Master Nicaud?" the governor said; for, accustomed to have dealings with the smugglers, he knew most of them by their names.
"Myself, at your service, if I can do anything, Mr. Governor," the master answered politely.
"Tell me," said the Major, "would you like to earn ten louis?"
The sailor burst into a hearty laugh.
"You are joking with me, of course, Mr. Governor," he said.
"Not at all," the Major went on, "and the proof is, here they are," he added, as he drew from his pocket a handful of gold, which he carelessly tossed in his hand; "I am therefore awaiting your answer."
"Hang it, Mr. Governor, you are well aware that ten louis forms a very fine lump of money for a poor fellow like me; I am most willing to earn the canaries, what must I do for them?"
"Well, a very simple thing! take me to St. Honorat, where I feel inclined for a stroll."
"At this time of night?" the master remarked in surprise.
The Major bit his lips on perceiving that he had made a foolish remark.
"I am very fond of the picturesque, and wish to enjoy the effect of the convent ruins in the moonlight."
"That is an idea like any other," the skipper answered; "and as you pay me, Mr. Governor, I can have no objection."
"That is true. Then you will take me to Saint Honorat, land me in your boat, and stand off and on while waiting for me. Is that agreed?"
"Perfectly."
"Ah! I have a decided taste for solitude, and hence I must insist on none of your men landing on the island while I am there."
"The whole crew shall remain on board, I promise you."
"All right, I trust to you, here is the money."
"Thanks," said the skipper, pocketing it; then he said to the steerer, "down with the helm," and added, "Hilloh, my lads, brace the sheets to larboard."
The vessel quickly came up to the wind, and leaped over the waves in the direction of Saint Honorat, whose black outlines stood out on the horizon.
It is but a short passage between Saint Marguerite and Saint Honorat, especially for such a clipper as the smuggling lugger.
The vessel was soon off the island.
The master lay to, and ordered a boat to be let down.
"Mr. Governor," he said respectfully, doffing his cap, and stopping the governor, who was walking up and down in the stern; "we are all ready, and the boat waits for you."
"Already! All the better," the latter answered.
At the moment when he was going to get into the boat, the skipper arrested him.
"Have you pistols?" he asked him.
"Pistols?" he said as he turned round, "What for? is not this island deserted?"
"Entirely."
"Hence I can run no risk."
"Not the slightest; hence that is not the reason why I asked you the question."
"What is it then?"
"Hang it, it is as black as in the fiend's oven; there is no moon, you cannot distinguish an object ten yards from you. How shall I know when you want to come on board again, unless you warn me by a signal?"
"That is true; what had I better do?"
"Here is a pistol, it is not loaded, but there is powder in the pan, and you can squib it."
"Thanks," said the Major, taking the pistol, and thrusting it through his girdle.
He got into the boat, which was dancing on the waves, and sat down in the stern sheets; four vigorous sailors bending over the oars made her fly through the water.
"A pleasant trip," the skipper shouted.
It appeared to the Major as if this wish had been uttered with a very marked ironical tone by Master Nicaud, but he attached no further importance to it, and turned his eyes toward land, which was gradually looming larger.
Ere long the boat's bows grated on the sand; they had arrived.
The Major went ashore, and after ordering the sailors to return aboard, he drew his cloak over his face, went off with long steps, and soon disappeared in the darkness.
However, instead of obeying the injunction given them, three of the sailors landed in their turn, and followed the Major at a distance, while careful to keep themselves out of sight. The fourth, who remained to keep the boat, hid the latter behind a point, secured it to a projecting rock, and leaping ashore, fusil in hand, he remained on the watch with his eyes fixed on the interior of the island.
The Major, in the meanwhile, continued to advance hurriedly in the direction of the ruins, whose imposing outline was already beginning to present itself to his eyes, borrowing from the surrounding gloom a still more imposing aspect.
The Major, convinced that his orders had been punctually carried out, for he had no motive to distrust Master Nicaud, whom he had ever and under all circumstances found willing and faithful, walked on without turning his head, or even taking precautions, which he considered unnecessary, as he was far from suspecting that several men were following his footsteps, and watching his movements.
It was easy to see from the deliberate manner in which he walked, and the facility with which he evaded obstacles and found his way in the darkness, that this was not the first time the Major had come to this spot, though it appeared so solitary and deserted.
After entering the ruins, M. de l'Oursière passed through a cloister, encumbered with shapeless fragments, and forcing his way between stones and brambles, he entered the chapel, a magnificent specimen of the purest Roman style, whose crumbling roof had fallen in under the incessant efforts of time, and only the choir and apse still remained intact amid broken columns and desecrated altars.
The Major passed through the choir, and reached the apse, where he halted.
After carefully examining for a moment the surrounding objects, as if he expected to find someone or something he did not perceive, he at length resolved to clap his hands thrice.
At the same moment a man rose scarce two paces from him.
This sudden apparition, though he fully expected it, made the Major start, and he fell back a step, laying his hand on his sword.
"Ah, ah, my master," the stranger said, in a mocking voice, "pray do you take me for a spectre, that I cause you such terror?"
The man was wrapped up in a thick cloak, whose folds concealed his shape, while a broad leafed plumed hat entirely covered his face and rendered him completely unrecognizable. Only the end of his cloak raised by the scabbard of a long rapier, proved that whoever the man might be, he had not come unarmed to this gloomy rendezvous.
"I am at your orders, sir," the Major said, raising his hand to his hat, but without removing it.
"And ready to serve me, no doubt," the stranger resumed.
"That depends," the Major remarked roughly, "times are no longer the same."
"Ah, ah," the stranger continued still sarcastically, "what news is there? I shall be delighted to learn it of you."
"You know it as well as I do, sir."
"No matter, tell me all the same what the great news is, that thus produces modifications in our relations which have hitherto been so amicable?"
"It is useless to jeer thus, sir; I have served you, you have paid me, and we are quits."
"Perhaps so, but go on. I presume you wish to propose a new bargain to me?"
"I have nothing to propose; I have merely come because you expressed a desire to see me, that is all."
"And your prisoner, are you still satisfied with him?"
"More than ever. He is a charming gentleman, who does not at all deserve the melancholy fate thrust on him; I really feel an interest in him."
"Confound it, that comes expensive, I did not take that interest into account, and I was wrong, I see."
"What do you mean, sir?" the Major protested with an indignant air.
"Nothing but what I say to you, my dear sir. Hang it, you amuse me with your scruples, after taking money from all parties during the last eighteen months; the Cardinal is dead and the King is on the point of following him, that is what you wished to tell me, is it not? A new reign is preparing, and it is probable that, if only through a spirit of contradiction, the new government will upset everything done by the one that preceded it, and that its first care will be to open the prison doors; you also wished to tell me that Count de Barmont, who possesses warm friends at court, who will not fail to employ their influence on his behalf, cannot fail to be set at liberty ere long. Confusion, I knew all that as well and even better than you, but what matter?"
"How, what matter?"
"Certainly, if Count de Barmont has devoted friends, he has implacable enemies; bear that in mind."
"And the result will be?"
"That in four days at the latest, you will receive an order signed by Louis XIII. himself."
"To what effect?"
"Oh! Good heaven, no great thing, except that Count de Barmont will be immediately transferred from St. Marguerite to the Bastille; and once there," he added in a hollow voice, which made the Major shudder involuntarily, "a man is eternally erased from the number of the living or only leaves it a corpse or a maniac. Do you comprehend me now?"
"Yes, I understand you, sir; but who guarantees that the Count will not have escaped before the four days to which you refer?"
"Oh! With a governor like yourself, Major, such an eventuality seems to me highly improbable."
"Well, well," the Major observed, "very extraordinary tales are told about the escape of prisoners."
"That is true; but another thing reassures me against this escape."
"And what is that, sir?"
"Merely that the Count himself declared that he would never consent to escape, and was not at all anxious about liberty."
"Well, sir, that is the very thing that deceives you; it seems that he has now changed his opinion, and is eagerly soliciting through his friends to obtain his liberty."
"Ah! Have we come to that point?" the stranger said, fixing on the Major a glance which flashed through the gloom.
The governor bowed.
There was a silence, during which no other sound was audible, save that of the heavy flight of the nocturnal birds in the ruins.
"A truce to further chattering," the stranger resumed in a fierce voice; "how much do you ask to prevent the prisoner escaping until the king's order reaches you?"
"Two hundred thousand livres," the Major answered roughly.
"Was I not right in telling you that it would be expensive?" the stranger said with a grin.
"Dear or not, that is my price, and I shall not bate it."
"Very good, you shall have it."
"When?"
"Tomorrow."
"That will be too late."
"What?" the stranger asked haughtily.
"I said it would be too late," the Major repeated imperturbably.
"In that case, when must you have it?"
"At once."
"Do you fancy I carry 200,000 livres about me?"
"I do not say that, but I can accompany you where you are going, and on reaching Antibes, we will say, you can pay me the amount."
"That is a good plan."
"Is it not?"
"Yes, only there is an obstacle to its success."
"I do not see one."
"But I do."
"What is it, sir?"
"That, if I give you a meeting here, and come disguised and alone, I have probably an object."
"Of course! You wish to remain incog."
"You are full of penetration, my dear sir; and yet we can come to an understanding."
"I do not see how, unless you consent to what I ask."
"You are a judge of diamonds, since we have hitherto only bargained in them."
"That is true, I am a tolerable judge of them."
"Here is one that is worth 100,000 crowns, take it."
And he offered a small case of black shagreen.
The Major eagerly seized it.
"But," he objected, "how can I be certain that you are not deceiving me?"
"An affecting confession," the stranger observed laughingly.
"Business is business, I risk my soul in serving you."
"As for your soul, my dear sir, reassure yourself; in that quarter you have nothing to risk. But I will give you the satisfaction you desire."
And taking a dark lanthorn from under his cloak, he let the light play on the diamond.
The Major only required one glance to assure himself of the value of the rich reward offered him.
"Are you satisfied?" the stranger asked, as he placed the lanthorn again under his cloak.
"Here is the proof," the Major answered, as he concealed the box, and handed him a bundle of papers.
"What is this?" the stranger inquired.
"Papers of great importance for you, in the sense that they will tell you who the Count's friends are, and the means they can employ to restore him to liberty."
"Bravo!" the stranger exclaimed, as he eagerly took the bundle of papers; "I no longer regret having paid so heavy a price for your assistance. Now we have discussed every point, I think?"
"I think so too."
"In that case, farewell! When I want you, I will let you know."
"Are you going already?"
"What the deuce would you have me do longer in this owl's nest? It is time for each of us to rejoin the persons waiting for us."
And after giving the Major a slight wave of the hand, he turned away and disappeared behind the ruins of the high altar.
At the same moment the stranger was suddenly seized by several men, so that not only was he unable to offer a useless resistance, but found himself bound and gagged before he had recovered from the surprise this attack had caused him.
His silent aggressors then left him rolling on the ground with convulsive bounds of impotent rage, and disappeared in the darkness without paying any further attention to him.
The Major, after a momentary hesitation, also resolved to leave the place, and slowly proceeded in the direction of the shore. On arriving within a certain distance, in obedience to skipper Nicaud's hint, he cocked his pistol and flashed the powder in the pan; then he continued to advance slowly.
The boat had doubtless made haste to meet him, for at the same moment as the Major reached the shore, its bows ran into the sand.
The governor stepped silently into it; twenty minutes after he found himself on board the lugger, where master Nicaud received him respectfully cap in hand.
The boat was hauled up to the davits, sail was set on the lugger, and she stood out to sea before a fresh breeze.