The Chevalier d'Auriac

by S. Levett Yeats

CHAPTER XVIII

[THE SKYLIGHT IN THE TOISON D'OR]

Once back in my room, I flung off my cloak and took a survey of my new quarters. The room was long and low, and situated in the topmost story of the house. In one corner was a settle covered with a faded brocade, whilst on the other side there was a wardrobe and a few necessaries. The bed was placed at the extreme end of the room, and close to the window which overlooked the back of the house, and through which, from where I stood, the blue sky alone was visible, there was a table and a couple of chairs. Between the table and the bed intervened a clear space, about ten feet by six, covered with a coarse carpeting. If I am thus precise in my description, I would say I have done so in order to explain clearly what follows.

So far things were satisfactory enough, and beyond what I had a right to expect in such a locality. The one drawback was that I would be compelled to use the turret at the end of the passage for my watch, and thus run the risk of being observed from the other houses. In the meantime I determined to see exactly what could be effected from the window, and pushing the table aside, so as to get a better view, looked out. I then saw that the house I was in as well as the Toison d'Or were both built against the remains of the old walls of Paris. Below me there was a sheer drop of fifty or sixty feet, right into the bed of the abandoned fosse, which was covered by a thick undergrowth and full of débris, A little beyond the fosse was a portion of what was known as the new wall. This was perhaps in a more ruinous condition than the fortification it was supposed to have replaced. The brushwood grew thick and high against it, and I could see the gap where a breach had been effected, probably during the last siege, when the Sixteen and Madame de Montpensier held Paris against the two kings. Beyond that stretched the open country, where, had I a mind to linger on the view, I might have made out the windings of the river, the houses of Corneuve, and the woods of Dugny and Gonesse. But it was not of these I was thinking, for in that survey I had grasped the fact that de Gomeron could not have chosen a spot better suited for his purposes than the Toison d'Or. It was a part of Paris as secure as if it had been cut off from the city and set in some unknown island, such as those who sail to the New World describe. I thought at first of stopping any further concern with the window, but as I was turning away I looked rather particularly at the wall below me, and saw that a ledge ran along it about three feet below the window. Following its track with my eyes, I observed that it was carried along the face of the Toison d'Or, and in doing this I became aware that there was a window open at the back of Babette's house, and that this was situated on the same level as my room, but just about the middle instead of the extreme end, as mine was. When I considered the position of this window, and that its look-out was on a place where never a soul seemed to come, I could not but think that if Madame were in the Toison d'Or, that in all probability her room was there, and I swore bitterly to myself at the thought of how impossible it would be to reach her. I then craned out and looked upwards, and saw that my house was a half-story lower than the Toison d'Or, and that, whilst the latter had a high sloping roof, the portion of the building in which I was appeared to be a long and narrow terrace with a low machicolated parapet running along the edge. Thus if there were a door or window in the Toison d'Or that opened on to my roof, it would be possible to step out thereon; and then I drew back, my blood burning. If it was possible to step out from the Toison d'Or on to the roof of the house I occupied, it might be equally easy to get thence into the Toison d'Or. Taking my sword, I measured the distance of the ledge from the window-sill, and then, holding on to the mullions by one hand, stretched out as far as I could, and found I could just touch the top of the parapet with the point of my blade. In short, the position was this: that so hard and smooth was the outside of the wall, it was impossible for anything save a lizard to get along it to the window behind which I supposed Madame was prisoned; yet it was feasible, with the aid of a rope thrown over the grinning head of the gargoyle a little above me, or else over the low battlement of the parapet, to reach the roof, and the odds were in favour of there being some sort of a door or window that would give ingress thence into the Toison d'Or. I began after this to be a little more satisfied with my quarters, and determined to set about my explorations about the dinner hour, when most people would be within, and the chance of discovery reduced to a minimum. I did not feel justified in putting the matter off until nightfall, as I have often observed that there was no time so good as the one I had chosen for affairs which depended much for their results upon a surprise. I now stepped out of my room, and, walking along the passage, looked out from the little turret along the face of the street. It was more alive than I had ever seen it before, but the occupants were principally women and children, with a man or so here and there. I saw that whilst the sunlight fell in patchwork and long narrow stretches on the street, it was bright enough where I was, and I perceived I had a good excuse for spending such time as I intended to behind the embrasures of the turret. And this excuse I had to bring into play at once, for as I stood there I heard a footstep on the passage, and, turning, observed the woman of the house.

'I see,' she began, 'you are already in your turret.'

'I like the sun, my good woman, and have had a long journey.'

Something in my tone made her look at me oddly, and I began to wish I were well away from the keen scrutiny of her eyes. She dropped the tutoyer and asked:

'If monsieur is tired he would probably like his dinner earlier.'

'Morbleu! The very thing, madame, and as long a bottle of Beaugency as you can get with it.'

'It shall be done, monsieur,' and she turned to go.

It struck me as a little odd that she should have come up in this aimless manner; but reflecting that perhaps, after all, it was due to nothing more than a desire to gratify feminine curiosity by spying what I was about, I dismissed the matter.

After allowing a little time to elapse I descended to the shop and began carelessly running my eyes over the miscellaneous collection of articles therein. The fence followed me about, now recommending this thing and now that. At last I saw what looked to be a ball of rope lying in a corner and covered with dust.

'What is that?' I inquired, touching it with the point of my sword.

The man stooped without a word and, picking it up, dusted it carefully, then he unrolled a ladder of silken cord, about twelve or fifteen feet in length.

'This, captain,' he said, swinging it backwards and forwards, 'belonged, not so long ago, to M. de Bellievre, though you may not believe me.'

'I have no doubt you are speaking the truth, but it seems rather weak.'

'On the contrary, monsieur, will you test it and see?'

We managed to do this, by means of two hooks that were slung from a beam above us, in a manner to satisfy me that the ladder was sufficient to bear double my weight, and then, as if content with this, I flung it aside.

'Will not monsieur take it?' asked the man; 'it is cheap.'

'It is good enough,' I answered, 'if I had a business on hand, but at present I am waiting.'

'If monsieur has leisure I might be able to give him a hint that would be worth something in crowns.'

'I am lazy when in luck, compère. No, I will not take the ladder.'

'It may come in useful, though, and will occupy but a small space in monsieur's room'—and seeing that I appeared to waver—'shall I take it up, I will let it go for ten crowns?'

'Five crowns or nothing,' I said firmly. 'But it is of the finest silk!'

'I do not want to buy—you can take my price or leave it.'

'Very well then, monsieur, thanks, and I will take it up myself.'

'You need not trouble, I am going up and will take it with me.'

With these words I took the ladder, folded in long loops, in my hand and went back to the turret. There I spent a good hour or so in re-examining it, and splicing one or two parts that seemed a trifle weak, at the same time keeping a wary eye on who passed and repassed the street, without, however, discovering anything to attract attention. Finally, the woman brought up my dinner, and I managed to eat, after a fashion, but made more play with the Beaugency, which was mild and of a good vintage. When the table was cleared, I sat still for about half an hour or so, playing with my glass, and then rising, saw that my door was securely fastened in such a manner that no one could effect an entrance, except by bursting the lock. This being done I removed my boots and unslung my sword, keeping my pistols, however, in my belt, and after a good look round, to see that no one was observing me, managed to loop the ladder round the gargoyle, and then tested it once more with a long pull. The silk held well enough, but the stonework of the gargoyle gave and fell with a heavy crash into the fosse below. It was a narrow business, and it was well I had tried the strength of the cord again. I looked out from the window cautiously to see if the noise had attracted any attention, and found to my satisfaction that it had not. After allowing a little time to elapse, so as to be on the safe side, I attempted to throw the looped end I had made to the ladder so that it might fall over the parapet, between two embrasures, but discovered, after half a dozen casts, that this was not feasible from where I stood. Then I bethought me of my boyhood's training amongst the cliffs that overhung the bay of Auriac, and, stepping out on to the ledge of the window, managed with an effort to hold on to the stump of the gargoyle with one hand, and, balancing myself carefully, for a slip meant instant death, flung the loop once more, and had the satisfaction of seeing it fall as I desired. Without any further hesitation I put my foot on the rungs, and in a minute more was lying on my face behind the parapet, and thanking God I had made the effort, for before me was a large skylight, half open, from which I could command a view of the interior of one room at least of the Toison d'Or, and by which it might be possible to effect an easy entrance. Before going any further, however, I glanced round me to see how the land lay, and was delighted to find that I could not be observed from the opposite side of the street, as the portion of the house I was on was concealed from view by the gabled roof that rose about ten feet from me, leaving me in a sort of long balcony. Now that I think of it, this roof must have been an after-thought on the part of the builders; then I was but too thankful to find it existed, and had no time for reflections. By turning my head I could see, too, that the high wall that shut in the mouth of the passage was evidently raised as a barrier between the street and the fosse, which took a bend and ran immediately below the wall. After lying perfectly still for a little, I slowly pushed myself forwards until at last I was beneath the skylight, and then, raising myself cautiously, peeped in. I saw a room of moderate size, and well but plainly furnished. In the centre was an oblong table covered with a dark cloth, and round about it were set a number of chairs. The skylight alone admitted light, and from this to the floor of the room was a matter of twelve feet or so. The chamber was empty, and I had more than half a mind to risk the descent, when the door was opened and Babette stepped in. I shrank back as low as possible, and observed that she was making arrangements for some one, for she placed a couple of decanters with glasses on the table, arranged the chairs, and then, after taking a look round, went out once more. I made up my mind to wait, and, settling myself under the skylight, began to exercise my patience. After an hour or so had passed I heard the door opened again, and then the sound of voices. Presently some one called out, 'We had better shut the skylight,' and then another voice, this time Lafin's, said, 'No, it is no use, and we will want light to see.'

Once more I raised myself and leaned against the edge of the opening, eyes and ears intent. There were three men in the room—Lafin, de Gomeron, and another whom I did not know, but whom I judged to be an Italian from his manner of pronouncing our language. They were all three seated round the table, poring over a number of documents and conversing in low tones. After a time it appeared to me that Lafin was urging something on de Gomeron, and the free-lance, who was short of temper, brought his clenched hand on the table in a manner to make the glasses ring, whilst he said with an oath—

'I will not—I have risked too much. I have told you before that I did not come into this for the good of my health. My prize is my own. It has nothing to do with your affair, of which I am sick.'

The other man then cut in—

'I do not see, M. de Lafin, why we should drag this matter into our discussion. If M. de Gomeron wants a wife, well—many a fair dame has had a rougher wooing than the lady you speak of. But I—I have cause for complaint. I come here expecting to meet the Marshal—and I meet you and monsieur here. I mean no offence, but I must tell you plainly my master's instructions are that I should hear M. de Biron's promises and take his demands from his own lips.

'And what about Epernon, Bouillon, and Tremouille, count?' asked de Gomeron.

The dark eyes of the stranger flashed on him for a moment.

'My master, the Duke of Savoy, knows their views.'

'Personally?'

The Italian waved his hand with a laugh. 'Gentlemen, I have given you my terms—it is for you to choose. As for my part, I would that my master dropped this business and trusted the day to his sword.'

'That is not wont to be M. de Savoye's way,' sneered Lafin, and the Italian rose.

'Very well, messieurs. I will then consider the issue is closed.'

'It matters not a rush to me,' exclaimed de Gomeron; but Lafin, who was moodily plucking at his moustache, spoke again, and the tones of his voice were full of chagrin.

'As you wish—I undertake that the Marshal sees you.'

'Where and when? My time is precious.'

'Here, at ten o'clock to-night.'

'Maledetto! This is not a place to come at that hour.'

'It is safe—and it would be safer still if you stayed here till then. The spies of the Master-General—curse him—are everywhere, and M. de Gomeron will guarantee your protection here.'

'I am deeply grateful,' the count bowed slightly, a faint tone of irony in his voice. 'Then you agree?'

'Yes.'

'This being so, perhaps you had better go over these notes that you may be in a position to exactly understand what we can do. Our terms of course are as before, but we will require money, and that at once.'

'But large advances have already been made,' objected the Italian.

'They are gone,' said Lafin.

'How? Nothing has been done; and both Velasco and Savoy are unwilling to throw more money into the business unless some action is taken. How has the money gone?'

'It is gone, and there is an end of it,' exclaimed Lafin sullenly. 'As for the action you wish taken—you have asked to see the Marshal, and he will inform you.'

'Very well! Until then, monsieur, we will not discuss this point further.'

The voices dropped again after this, and they began to pore over the papers and a map that the free-lance had spread before him, making an occasional remark which I did not follow. But I had heard enough to be convinced that the plot of Anet was still in full life. It was all important for me now to communicate what I knew at once to the Master-General. With a little ordinary care the conspirators could be trapped to a man, and if by one stroke I could effect this, as well as free Madame, anything was possible. Without further hesitation I therefore crept slowly back, and descended to my chamber as softly as a cat. Leaving the ladder swinging where it was—for I could not undo the knot—I drew on my boots, and went to the turret to reconnoitre before venturing out into the street. Imagine my chagrin and disappointment to see that three men were at the gate of the Toison d'Or, evidently on the watch, and in one of them I made out Ravaillac. I might have passed the others without discovery, but it would be impossible to escape the lynx eyes of this villain, who, though young in years, had all the craft of age, and who later on was to raise himself to an eminence so bad that I know not whom to place beside him, except perhaps those who were his aiders and abettors. I did not fear to run the gauntlet—that was an easy matter; but merely doing so would make my birds take to wing, and I found myself compelled once more to hold patience by the tail until the coast was clear.