And you say that you are a scoundrel on the right. The advantage, however, is with me, and I shall back my opinion by arresting you.'
A ripple of coarse laughter ran round the hollow. The sergeant who held the lanthorn grinned, and a trooper at a distance called out of the darkness 'A BON CHAT BON RAT!' This brought a fresh burst of laughter, while I stood speechless, confounded by the stubbornness, the crassness, the insolence of the man. 'You fool!' I cried at last, 'you fool!' And then M. de Cocheforet, who had come out of the hut and taken his stand at my elbow, interrupted me.
'Pardon me one moment,' he said, airily, looking at the Lieutenant with raised eyebrows and pointing to me with his thumb, 'but I am puzzled between you. This gentleman's name? Is it de Berault or de Barthe?'
'I am M. de Berault,' I said, brusquely, answering for myself.
'Of Paris?'
'Yes, Monsieur, of Paris.'
'You are not, then, the gentleman who has been honouring my poor house with his presence?'
'Oh, yes!' the Lieutenant struck in, grinning. 'He is that gentleman, too.'
'But I thought--I understood that that was M. de Barthe!'
'I am M. de Barthe, also,' I retorted impatiently. 'What of that, Monsieur? It was my mother's name. I took it when I came down here.'
'To--er--to arrest me, may I ask?'
'Yes,' I said, doggedly; 'to arrest you. What of that?'
'Nothing,' he replied slowly and with a steady look at me--a look I could not meet. 'Except that, had I known this before, M. de Berault I should have thought longer before I surrendered to you.'
The Lieutenant laughed, and I felt my cheek burn; but I affected to see nothing, and turned to him again. 'Now, Monsieur,' I said, 'are you satisfied?'
'No,' he answered? 'I am not! You two may have rehearsed this pretty scene a dozen times. The word, it seems to me, is--Quick march, back to quarters.'
At length I found myself driven to play my last card; much against my will.
'Not so,' I said. 'I have my commission.'
'Produce it!' he replied incredulously.
'Do you think that I carry it with me?' I cried in scorn. 'Do you think that when I came here, alone, and not with fifty dragoons at my back, I carried the Cardinal's seal in my pocket for the first lackey to find. But you shall have it. Where is that knave of mine?'
The words were scarcely out of my mouth before a ready hand thrust a paper into my fingers. I opened it slowly, glanced at it, and amid a pause of surprise gave it to the Lieutenant. He looked for a moment confounded. Then, with a last instinct of suspicion, he bade the sergeant hold up the lanthorn; and by its light he proceeded to spell through the document.
'Umph!' he ejaculated with an ugly look when he had come to the end, 'I see.' And he read it aloud:--'BY THESE PRESENTS, I COMMAND AND EMPOWER GILLES DE BERAULT, SIER DE BERAULT, TO SEEK FOR, HOLD, AND ARREST, AND DELIVER TO THE GOVERNOR OF THE BASTILLE THE BODY OF HENRI DE COCHEFORET, AND TO DO ALL ACTS AND THINGS AS SHALL BE NECESSARY TO EFFECT SUCH ARREST AND DELIVERY, FOR WHICH THESE SHALL BE HIS WARRANT.
(Signed) THE CARDINAL DE RICHELIEU.'
When he had done--he read the signature with a peculiar intonation--someone said softly, 'VIVE LE ROI!' and there was a moment's silence. The sergeant lowered his lanthorn. 'Is it enough?' I said hoarsely, glaring from face to face.
The Lieutenant bowed stiffly.
'For me?' he said. 'Quite, Monsieur. I beg your pardon again.
I find that my first impressions were the correct ones.
Sergeant! give the gentleman his papers!' and, turning his shoulder rudely, he tossed the commission to the sergeant, who gave it to me, grinning.
I knew that the clown would not fight, and he had his men round him; and I had no choice but to swallow the insult. I put the paper in my breast, with as much indifference as I could assume; and as I did so, he gave a sharp order. The troopers began to form on the edge above; the men who had descended to climb the bank again.
As the group behind him began to open and melt away, I caught sight of a white robe in the middle of it. The next moment, appearing with a suddenness which was like a blow on the cheek to me, Mademoiselle de Cocheforet glided forward towards me. She had a hood on her head, drawn low; and for a moment I could not see her face, I forgot her brother's presence at my elbow, I forgot other things, and, from habit and impulse rather than calculation, I took a step forward to meet her; though my tongue cleaved to the roof of my mouth, and I was dumb and trembling.
But she recoiled with such a look of white hate, of staring, frozen-eyed abhorrence, that I stepped back as if she had indeed struck me. It did not need the words which accompanied the look --the 'DO NOT TOUCH ME!' which she hissed at me as she drew her skirts together--to drive me to the farther edge of the hollow; where I stood with clenched teeth, and nails driven into the flesh, while she hung, sobbing tearless sobs, on her brother's neck.
