Picard flew to summon him, and in a few moments the discomfited bully made his appearance; pale from abject terror, with teeth chattering and limbs trembling, as he was ushered into the dread presence of his angry lord. In spite of his efforts to assume the sang-froid he was so far from feeling, he staggered like a drunken man, though he had not drank enough wine that day to drown a fly, and did not dare to lift his eyes to his master’s face.
“Well, you cowardly beast,” said Vallombreuse angrily, how long, pray, are you going to stand there speechless, like a stupid fool, with that hang-dog air, as if you already had the rope that you so richly deserve round your wicked neck? “I only awaited your lordship’s orders,” stammered Mérindol, trying to appear at ease, and failing lamentably. “My lord duke knows that I am entirely devoted to his service—even to being hanged, if it seems good to your lordship.”
“Enough of that cant!” interrupted the duke impatiently. “Didn’t I charge you to have that cursed de Sigognac, otherwise Captain Fracasse, cleared out of my way? You have not done it—my orders have not been obeyed. It is worth while, upon my word, to keep confounded hired rascals to do such work for me, at this rate! All that you are good for is to stuff yourself in the kitchen, you dastardly beast, and to guzzle my good wine from morning until night. But I’ve had enough of this, by Jove! and if there is not a change, and that without any further loss of time, to the hangman you shall go—do you hear? just as sure as you stand there, gaping like a drivelling idiot.”
“My lord duke,” said Mérindol in a trembling voice, “is unjust to his faithful servant, who desires nothing but to do his lord’s bidding. But this Baron de Sigognac is not to be disposed of so easily as my lord believes. Never was there a braver, more fearless man. In our first attack on him, at Poitiers, he got the better of us in a most wonderful way—we never saw the like of it—and all he had to fight with was a dull, rusty sword, not intended for use at all; a theatre sword, just for looks. And when we tried to do for him here in Paris, the very night he got here, it all came to naught, because he was so watchful, and somehow suspected what we were up to, and was ready for us; and that upset our beautiful little plan entirely. I never was so surprised in my life; and there was nothing for us to do, the whole four of us, but to get out of his sight as fast as we could, and he standing there laughing at us. Oh! he’s a rare one, is Captain Fracasse. And now he knows my face, so I can’t go near him myself. But I have engaged the services of a particular friend of mine—the bravest man and the best fighter in Paris—he hasn’t his equal in the world with the sword, they all say. He is lying in wait for him on the Pont-Neuf now, at this very moment, and there’ll be no mistake this time. Lampourde will be sure to despatch him for us—if it is not done already—and that without the slightest danger of your lordship’s name being mixed up with the affair in any way, as it might have been if your lordship’s own servants had done it.”
“The plan is not a bad one,” said the young duke, somewhat mollified, “and perhaps it is better that it should be done in that way. But are you really sure of the courage and skill of this friend of yours? He will need both to get the better of that confounded de Sigognac, who is no coward, and a master hand with the sword, I am bound to acknowledge, though I do hate him like the devil.”
“My lord need have no fears,” said Mérindol enthusiastically, being now more at his ease. “Jacquemin Lampourde is a hero, a wonder, as everybody will tell your lordship. He is more valiant than Achilles, or the great Alexander. He is not spotless certainly, like the Chevalier Bayard, but he is fearless.”
Picard, who had been hovering about for a few minutes in an uneasy way, now seeing that his master was in a better humour, approached and told him that a very odd-looking man was below, who asked to see him immediately on most important business.
“You may bring him in,” said the duke, “but just warn him, Picard, that if he dares to intrude upon me for any trifling matter, I’ll have him skinned alive before I let him go.”
Mirindol was just about leaving the room, when the entrance of the newcomer rooted him to the spot; he was so astonished and alarmed that he could not move hand or foot. And no wonder, for it was no other than the hero whose name he had just spoken—Jacquemin Lampourde in person—and the bare fact of his having dared to penetrate so boldly into the dread presence of that high and mighty seignior, the Duke of Vallombreuse, ignoring entirely the agent through whom his services had been engaged, showed of itself that something very extraordinary must have taken place.
Lampourde himself did not seem to be in the least disconcerted, and after winking at his friend furtively in a very knowing way, stood unabashed before the duke, with the bright light of the many wax candles shining full upon his face. There was a red mark across his forehead, where his hat had been pressed down over it, and great drops of sweat stood on it, as if he had been running fast, or exercising violently. His eyes, of a bluish gray tint, with a sort of metallic lustre in them, were fixed upon those of the haughty young nobleman, with a calm insolence that made Mérindol’s blood run cold in his veins; his large nose, whose shadow covered all one side of his face, as the shadow of Mount Etna covers a considerable portion of the island of Sicily, stood out prominently, almost grotesquely, in profile; his mustache, with its long stiff points carefully waxed, which produced exactly the effect of an iron skewer stuck through his upper lip, and the “royal” on his chin curled upward, like a comma turned the wrong way, all contributed to make up a very extraordinary physiognomy, such as caricaturists dote on. He wore a large scarlet cloak, wrapped closely about his erect, vigorous form, and in one hand, which he extended towards the duke, he held suspended a well filled purse—a strange and mysterious proceeding which Mirindol could by no means understand.