THE VALOIS SAGA: Queen Margot, Chicot de Jester & The Forty-Five Guardsmen (Historical Novels). Alexandre DumasЧитать онлайн книгу.
“I must tell you that the great Henry is the idol of us Parisians.”
“Which Henry?” asked La Mole.
“It seems to me there is only one,” replied the landlord.
“You are mistaken; there is another, whom I desire you do not speak ill of, and that is Henry of Navarre; and then there is Henry de Condé, who has his share of merit.”
“I do not know them,” said the landlord.
“But I do; and as I am on my way to the King of Navarre, I desire you not to speak slightingly of him before me.”
The landlord replied by merely touching his cap, and continued to lavish his assiduities on Coconnas:
“So monsieur is going to see the great Duc de Guise? Monsieur is a very fortunate gentleman; he has come, no doubt, for”—
“What?” asked Coconnas.
“For the festivity,” replied the host, with a singular smile.
“You should say for the festivities,” replied Coconnas; “for Paris, I hear, runs riot with festivals; at least there is nothing talked about but balls, festivals, and orgies. Does not every one find plenty of amusement?”
“A moderate amount, but they will have more soon, I hope.”
“But the marriage of his majesty the King of Navarre has brought a great many people to Paris, has it not?” said La Mole.
“A great many Huguenots — yes,” replied La Hurière, but suddenly changing his tone:
“Pardon me, gentlemen,” said he, “perhaps you are of that religion?”
“I,” cried Coconnas, “I am as good a Catholic as the pope himself.”
La Hurière looked at La Mole, but La Mole did not or would not comprehend him.
“If you do not know the King of Navarre, Maître La Hurière,” said La Mole, “perhaps you know the admiral. I have heard he has some influence at court, and as I have letters for him, perhaps you will tell me where he lives, if his name does not take the skin off your lips.”
“He did live in the Rue de Béthizy down here at the right,” replied the landlord, with an inward satisfaction he could not conceal.
“He did live?” exclaimed La Mole. “Has he changed his residence?”
“Yes — from this world, perhaps.”
“What do you mean?” cried both the gentlemen together, “the admiral removed from this world?”
“What, Monsieur de Coconnas,” pursued the landlord, with a shrewd smile, “are you a friend of the Duc de Guise, and do not know that?”
“Know what?”
“That the day before yesterday, as the admiral was passing along the place Saint Germain l’Auxerrois before the house of the Canon Pierre Piles, he was fired at”—
“And killed?” said La Mole.
“No; he had his arm broken and two fingers taken off; but it is hoped the balls were poisoned.”
“How, wretch!” cried La Mole; “hoped?”
“Believed, I mean,” said the landlord, winking at Coconnas; “do not take a word too seriously, it was a slip of the tongue.”
And Maître La Hurière, turning his back on La Mole, poked out his tongue at Coconnas in the most insulting way, accompanying this action with a meaning wink.
“Really!” said Coconnas, joyfully.
“Really!” said La Mole, with sorrowful stupefaction.
“It is just as I have the honor of telling you, gentlemen,” said the landlord.
“In that case,” said La Mole, “I must go instantly to the Louvre. Shall I find the King of Navarre there?”
“Most likely, since he lives there.”
“And I,” said Coconnas, “must also go to the Louvre. Shall I find the Duc de Guise there?”
“Most likely; for only a moment ago I saw him pass with two hundred gentlemen.”
“Come, then, Monsieur de Coconnas,” said La Mole.
“I will follow you, sir,” replied Coconnas.
“But your supper, gentlemen!” cried La Hurière.
“Ah,” said La Mole, “I shall most likely sup with the King of Navarre.”
“And I,” said Coconnas, “with the Duc de Guise.”
“And I,” said the landlord, after having watched the two gentlemen on their way to the Louvre, “I will go and burnish my sallet, put a match to my arquebuse, and sharpen my partisan, for no one knows what may happen.”
Chapter 5.
Of the Louvre in Particular, and of Virtue in General.
The two young men, directed by the first person they met, went down the Rue d’Averon, the Rue Saint Germain l’Auxerrois, and soon found themselves before the Louvre, the towers of which were beginning to be lost in the early shades of the gloaming.
“What is the matter with you?” asked Coconnas of La Mole, who, as they came in sight of the old château, stopped and gazed, not without awe, on the drawbridges, the narrow windows, and the pointed belfries, which suddenly rose before his vision.
“I scarcely know,” said La Mole; “my heart beats strangely. I am not timid, but somehow this old palace seems so gloomy and terrible.”
“Well, as for me, I don’t know any reason for it,” replied Coconnas, “but I feel in excellent spirits. My dress is somewhat disordered,” he went on to say, glancing at his travelling costume, “but never mind, it looks as if I had been riding. Besides, my instructions commanded promptness and I shall be welcome because I shall have obeyed punctually.”
The two young men continued their way, each under the influence of the feelings he had expressed.
There was a strong guard at the Louvre and the sentinels were doubled. Our two cavaliers were somewhat embarrassed, therefore, but Coconnas, who had noticed that the Duc de Guise’s name acted like a talisman on the Parisians, approached a sentinel, and making use of the all-powerful name, asked if by means of it he might not be allowed to enter.
The name seemed to produce its ordinary effect upon the soldier; nevertheless he asked Coconnas if he had the countersign.
Coconnas was forced to confess he had not.
“Stand back, then,” said the soldier.
At this moment a person who was talking with the officer of the guard and who had overheard Coconnas ask leave to enter, broke off his conversation and came to him.
“Vat do you vant with Monsieur dee Gouise?” asked he.
“I wish to see him,” said Coconnas, smiling.
“Imbossible! the duke is mit the King.”
“But I have a letter for him.”
“Ah, you haf a ledder for him?”
“Yes, and I have come a long distance.”
“Ah! you haf gome a long tistance?”
“I have come from Piedmont.”
“Vell, vell! dat iss anodder ting. And vat iss your name?”
“The Comte Annibal de Coconnas.”