A Courier of Fortune by Arthur W. Marchmont - HTML preview

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CHAPTER XXII
 
PASCAL PLAYS SPY

PASCAL dressed himself in the uniform of one of the Castle troopers, and his intention was to pass as a soldier who had been merrymaking in the city and, having just heard of the excitement at the Castle, was hurrying thither to report himself.

His aim was first to get into the Castle, then to find the Bourbon commander, Captain Bassot, and explain the position at Malincourt, and to learn such news of the Governor’s intentions as he could, and arrange with the captain some little plan of action.

He had but little fear of discovery in his soldier’s dress. Scarcely any one in the Castle knew him, and even if the Castle men failed to recognize him as one of the new troops, it would be no serious matter, because the captain, when consulted, would soon set that right.

As for the danger, it was to his liking. He was brave to the verge of recklessness, and the thought of tapping the Governor’s plans under his very nose as it were, pleased him hugely.

As he was indifferent about encountering any of the search parties who were patrolling the city, he made no effort at concealment, and covered the distance between Malincourt and the Castle at a quick speed, thinking over the matter and laughing at the venture as a kind of pleasure jaunt.

He resolved to make for the main entrance of the Castle, and had reached within short distance of it when he encountered one of the patrols. He was hurrying by, but the man in command challenged him.

“Ho, there! Who are you and where are you going?”

“To a mess of devil’s broth I expect, probably to arrest. I’ve just heard hell’s loose at the Castle, and I’m going for my share.”

“Who are you?”

“Not one of your men, sergeant. Ambroise Tourelle of Captain Bassot’s command.”

“What were you doing in the city?”

“Just seeing how you enjoy yourselves in Morvaix. You don’t manage badly. Is the gate open?”

“Don’t you know the news? Some prisoners have broken out and half killed the Governor. The whole garrison’s in arms. You may look for a warm welcome if old Tiger hears you’ve been absent.”

“Here’s deafness to him, then,” answered Pascal with a laugh. “I’ll hurry on.”

“I’ll send a man back with you lest you lose your way,” returned the sergeant drily, and detailed one for the purpose.

“Did you say you’re one of the new lot?” asked the soldier, as they went to the Castle. “I don’t know your face.”

“Yet it’s one your Morvaix girls will know soon, I warrant,” laughed Pascal. “It’s more to the matter if you know what the punishment is for being out of the Castle without leave.”

“It mayn’t be noticed at such a time, especially as you’re a new man. If you take my advice you’ll go straight to your captain and just tell him the truth.”

“Yes, but where the devil shall I find him? To hell with the liquor and the women, say I; they get us into all the troubles.”

“Ah, and leave us to scramble out for ourselves. I know it.”

“I take to you, friend; we must see more of one another,” said Pascal, with a genial laugh.

“I could show you some things in Morvaix,” chuckled the soldier. “Where have you been to-night?”

“The devil seize me if I know, but you breed some pretty faces in this city of yours. Do you know a blue-eyed wench named Marguerite?” and Pascal went on to invent a story for his companion’s benefit, making him laugh and swear that Pascal was a man after his own heart.

As they approached the Castle gates Pascal urged the soldier to go in with him and find Captain Bassot, and in this way he passed the gate and entered the guard-room without difficulty or question.

But the captain could not be found, and, as his companion had to leave again to hurry after his party, they separated with mutual promises to meet again, and Pascal was left to his own devices.

He stayed some time in the guard-room, and from the talk of the men he ascertained that the soldiers were patrolling Morvaix on foot and that mounted men in great numbers had been despatched to scour the country round, lest the fugitives should have escaped from the city.

No one took any notice of him beyond casting an occasional glance of curiosity in his direction, and finding himself thus free to go where he would, he left the guard-room and made his way into the Castle in search of his captain.

The excitement had largely subsided under the strict military discipline, and so many of the troops had been despatched on the work of search that he found the lower rooms of the Castle comparatively empty. The few persons he met he asked for Captain Bassot, for whom he now said he had news.

He was sent fruitlessly in various directions, and at last when passing through one of the corridors he met Lucette. She was hurrying by with bent head and did not see him, so with a glance to make sure they were alone, he accosted her.

“Your pardon, mademoiselle, can you tell me where I can find Captain Bassot?”

“No, monsieur,” she answered, and glancing up as she recognized him. “You?” she exclaimed.

“I’m glad they are no other than your bright eyes that see me, mademoiselle,” he answered smiling.

“We must not speak here. Follow me,” and she hurried back along the corridor until she came to a low doorway, through which she passed, giving a quick glance about to see that no one was observing her.

Pascal followed and found himself in a small antechamber bare of furniture and overlooking the courtyard.

“Tell me the news, monsieur,” urged Lucette. “This suspense is killing. Where is Mademoiselle de Malincourt?”

“First tell me why I find you here,” he said, cautiously.

“Ah, you suspect even me,” she answered quickly, with some indignation.

“Suspect is far too strong a word, but I am curious, I admit.”

“You are grossly unjust. I am a prisoner. After I saw you for the last time last night, I came here to be with Gabrielle, and was with the Duchess awaiting her return from the prison, when the escape of the prisoners was discovered; and since then I have been in a fever of suspense to know that she is safe and where she is. The Duke was like a madman. He came to the Duchess’ apartments in search of Gabrielle, and raged like a fiend incarnate at not finding her. I thought he would have flung us all into prison; and he threatened me with the rack if I did not tell him where Gabrielle was.”

“He is a chivalrous gentleman,” said Pascal.

“He told us his life had been attempted, charged the Duchess with having been a party to the escape, vowed that he would have the truth out of us and make us pay bitterly in his revenge. The Duchess is a noble woman and showed splendid courage and dignity; but oh, monsieur, I was never so frightened in my life.”

“But he has not actually ill-treated you; surely, he is not so base as that.”

“He vows that unless the prisoners and Gabrielle are in his hands within twenty-four hours he will put me to the question; and he ordered me not to leave the Castle and placed me in charge of one of his own officers. But he shall kill me before I will say a word.”

“You shall do better than that, mademoiselle; you shall leave the Castle. But where is your gaoler?”

The suspicion of a smile hovered about her lips for a moment, and her eyes lighted as she answered—

“I will tell you that directly, monsieur. When the Duke had terrified us in this fashion he called in his men, and actually had the whole apartments of the Duchess searched. Oh, it was shameful! Even the rough soldiers themselves were ashamed of their task, and hurried it. And when he found nothing, there being nothing to find, he grew even more violent, and taunted and insulted that noble woman till my heart ached for her and my blood boiled at his cowardice and brutality. And when at last he left us, it was only to send message after message telling of the steps he had taken to recapture the prisoners; with lie after lie; first that they had been taken, then that they were dead—any tale which could serve to frighten us, coward that he is. But I have managed to learn the truth in spite of him, monsieur.”

“Through your gaoler?” he asked quickly.

“Yes, monsieur. He put me in the care of Antoine de Cavannes,” said Lucette demurely.

“And who is Antoine de Cavannes?”

“Ah, you do not know. He used to think I—I would marry him, monsieur.”

“Oh, those bright eyes of yours, mademoiselle,” laughed Pascal.

“But he is hateful, this Antoine. It was he who with M. d’Estelle tried to kill Denys St. Jean when—when M. Gerard met Gabrielle.”

“The devil he is! and you fooled him, so that he lets you go where you will?”

“He made me promise not to leave the Castle, and he keeps watch in the courtyard by the gate. I was going to him for news—the Duchess is almost dead with anxiety.”

“Tell me what he has told you.”

“They think the prisoners have got out of the city. They have searched Malincourt and found no one there, but have left a guard in possession of the house. They do not think that even Gabrielle will return there, and believe either that the prisoners have escaped from Morvaix with her or that they are hiding in the city.”

“Long may they hold that belief!” exclaimed Pascal.

“There have been many arrests, monsieur. You see Gabrielle is known to almost every one, but M. Gerard and the monk to very few; so every one who cannot be recognized is arrested to be identified. At first they were brought here, but now they are taken somewhere in the city. Where are they, monsieur?”

“At Malincourt,” he replied readily.

“Oh, and I cannot go to Gabrielle!” cried Lucette distressfully.

“We will see about that. You are doing splendid service here, but you must not stay lest this Tiger should seek to carry out his threat. Besides, Mademoiselle de Malincourt would gladly have you with her. Could you get this lover of yours to leave the Castle with you for a walk, say in the grove on the way to Malincourt?”

“He would take me to Malincourt itself if I asked him, I think,” she replied with the air in which she had referred to Antoine before; and Pascal smiled. “He offered once, asking if I did not need some things from there.”

“Good! Be there at noon at the gate by the cedars at the south end of the gardens, and I will see to the rest. And now, you had better go. Wait—one question. Do you know aught of de Proballe?”

“He is with the Governor, and both are away in the city.”

“And that spy of his, Dauban. When the soldiers searched Malincourt they found him where I had put him in one of the cellars, and carried him away with them.”

“He is here in the Castle, monsieur. I’ve seen him.”

“The devil he is! He must not see me. Twice he has slipped through my fingers, but it shall go harder with him the third time. He is dangerous.”

“He is not dangerous to me, monsieur.”

“What, another?” cried Pascal, laughing. “Why, mademoiselle, I begin to fear for myself.”

“Monsieur!” said Lucette, using her eyes.

“You are a witch, Lucette, with those eyes of yours. But if you can get hold of this Dauban, lead him away from these lower rooms for an hour while I am still here, or you may have one admirer the less.”

“You mean—M. Dauban?” she asked coquettishly.

“On my soul, it’s in your very blood, mademoiselle. But I am shot-proof,” he laughed, shrugging his shoulders.

“At noon, then, by the cedar gate—that is how we call it.”

“Yes, at the cedar gate; and till then—good fortune to you.”

With a last coquettish glance and a smile, Lucette went to the door, opened it cautiously, peeped out, and stepped back hurriedly.

“Antoine and Jacques Dauban are together at the far end of the corridor, monsieur, coming this way. Have a care,” she whispered hurriedly.

“Is there a hiding place here?” he asked.

“Alas! no, monsieur.”

“Very well; then if they come in some of us will not go out again,” he answered coolly, and stepping behind the door he loosened a knife he had concealed under his coat. “Leave the door open.”

Lucette stood where she could not be seen by any one passing; and they waited thus in suspense as the sound of footsteps on the stones without came nearer. She turned pale and clenched her hands and began to mutter a prayer as the steps came close and the murmur of the two men as they talked in low tones reached their ears.

They were discussing the one absorbing topic—the prisoners’ escape and the subsequent events, and they paused close to the open door.

“I tell you it is not possible, Master Dauban,” Antoine said. “There is not a spot in the walls ten yards wide that has not one or more soldiers.”

“Aye, now that they are safely outside. Did they not get out of here? Answer me that, monsieur. And if out of here, why not from the bigger cage? I tell you they are many a league from Morvaix long ere this.”

“But the whole belt of country for leagues round has been scoured by our horse. And they were away from the city within an hour after the prisoners had fled.”

“Have it as you will, monsieur; but those who could not hold may be no better at finding. A hen’s egg would be hard to find hidden in this Castle, but not harder, methinks, than two men and a woman concealed in a belt of country leagues wide and where every man and woman would be their friend. I speak but what my master thinks and what the Governor thinks too.”

“Nay, they will be found in Morvaix, Master Dauban; and if I were but given leave I could find them,” and Antoine laughed confidently. “There is one in the Castle, in my charge, too, who knows the secret, I’ll wager; and I am but waiting.”

“There will be a fat reward for the man who tracks them. I heard the Duke and my master speak of it. A thousand crowns will be offered: a goodly sum, but fifty thousand won’t find in Morvaix what is not there to seek.”

“A thousand crowns!” repeated Antoine in a tone of greed. “A valiant sum, in all truth, and I know how it may be earned, and with it my revenge.”

“Two heads are better than one in a thing of this kind, Master Antoine,” said Dauban cunningly.

“But one pocket can hold the reward and would be fuller than two, Master Dauban,” replied Antoine with a laugh, and they passed on.

“There is one in the Castle who knows the secret, eh, Antoine?” muttered Lucette when they had passed out of earshot. “If I do not read that I am no woman,” and her eyes had a light that boded no good to Antoine de Cavannes.

“Something of the huckster in this admirer of yours, mademoiselle,” laughed Pascal. “He would turn this admiration of his for you to a profit. You must act warily, for if he suspects the object of your visit to Malincourt he may get the tidings to the Duke.”

“You may trust me, monsieur,” said Lucette confidently.

“This Dauban, too. You heard how he pricked his ears at what was said. Mark me, he will watch your Antoine, or I am no reader of a man’s voice. And he is a born spy.”

“Be at hand at the cedar gate at the hour you named, and maybe I will bring them both, monsieur,” and with that she peeped out cautiously and then sped away.

Pascal waited a few seconds and then sauntered back in the direction of the gate. He had learned enough and was anxious to get away. As he crossed the courtyard luck favoured him: Captain Bassot with another officer came out of his quarters.

“I have to report myself, captain,” said Pascal, with a salute.

“What madcap folly now?” said the captain sternly, repressing astonishment at seeing Pascal.

“Nothing serious this time, captain.”

“Well, let me hear it,” and with an excuse to the officer he turned aside with Pascal. “In the name of the saints, why do you venture here? How is it with the young lord Gerard?”

“All well, so far. Housed safely at Malincourt yonder, where, had we but powder, we could hold out against the Governor’s forces for days. Can you think of any means of getting us some?”

“What, in broad daylight from here?”

“Without it we are like to be in a sorry plight.”

“There is no thought of his being at Malincourt. They are searching for him in the city but believe he has fled. Hundreds of horsemen are out on the hunt on every road and in every direction.”

“And our men?”

“Are mostly here. It was held they were too new to the place to be much good in hunting for the fugitives.”

“How many men other than ours are here?” asked Pascal eagerly.

“Some two or maybe three hundred.”

“God, what a chance!” cried Pascal. “See, Bassot, couldn’t we get the men together and while the Duke’s away seize the Castle itself? It is Dubois’ plan. While you are getting ready here I could fetch the rest of our fellows from Malincourt. It would be a stroke worthy of us.”

“A firebrand scheme; but it could be done if the Duke will only keep the men away.”

“D’Alembert will be up with the troops by to-morrow night, and we could hold the Castle till then. We’ve every reason, too, to look for a rising in the city among the burghers; and in that case my lord Tiger Duke would find his claws nicely cut, and his tail trodden on at the same time.”

“There is a breach in the walls here. I had forgotten. A hundred men would be useless there against his thousands,” said Bassot.

“There is a flaw in every plan. We should have two hundred, not one; and besides, if they carried the walls, there is the Castle. We will try it,” said Pascal decisively. “Find me a horse and I’ll ride to Malincourt and in an hour we can be back.”

At this moment a mounted man rode up to the gates at a gallop and the soldiers clustered round him for his news. The captain went across to learn it, and came back crestfallen.

“The Governor is returning with a strong force. The man says they have news that the fugitives have been traced to Crevasse, a hill village away to the north, and their capture is now looked upon as certain.”

“A thousand devils!” exclaimed Pascal in his disappointment, and then with a shrug of the shoulders he added lightly, “Ah, well, there died a good scheme, and we must find another. Get me out of this, Bassot, before the Duke arrives. Just walk with me through the gates, and I’ll manage the rest.”

They passed out together, the captain appearing to be giving him some orders, and as soon as they were clear of the Castle, Pascal started at a quick pace to carry his news back to Malincourt.