I did not imagine anything else which it could be. That is the truth, though it may need explanation. I was accustomed only to the milder religious differences, the more evenly balanced parties of Quercy, where the peace between the Catholics and Huguenots had been welcome to all save a very few. I could not gauge therefore the fanaticism of the Parisian populace, and lost count of the factor, which made possible that which was going to happen--was going to happen in Paris before daylight as surely as the sun was going to rise! I knew that the Huguenot nobles were present in the city in great numbers, but it did not occur to me that they could as a body be in danger. They were many and powerful, and as was said, in favour with the king. They were under the protection of the King of Navarre--France's brother-in-law of a week, and the Prince of Conde; and though these princes were young, Coligny the sagacious admiral was old, and not much the worse I had learned for his wound. He at least was high in royal favour, a trusted counsellor. Had not the king visited him on his sick-bed and sat by him for an hour together?
Surely, I thought, if there were danger, these men would know of it. And then the Huguenots' main enemy, Henri le Balafre, the splendid Duke of Guise, "our great man," and " Lorraine," as the crowd called him--he, it was rumoured, was in disgrace at court.
In a word these things, to say nothing of the peaceful and joyous occasion which had brought the Huguenots to Paris, and which seemed to put treachery out of the question, were more than enough to prevent me forecasting the event.
If for a moment, indeed, as I hurried along towards the river, anything like the truth occurred to me, I put it from me. I say with pride I put it from me as a thing impossible. For God forbid--one may speak out the truth these forty years back--God forbid, say I, that all Frenchmen should bear the blood guiltiness which came of other than French brains, though French were the hands that did the work.
I was not greatly troubled by my forebodings therefore: and the state of exaltation to which Madame d'O's confidence had raised my spirits lasted until one of the narrow streets by the Louvre brought me suddenly within sight of the river. Here faint moonlight bursting momentarily through the clouds was shining on the placid surface of the water. The fresh air played upon, and cooled my temples. And this with the quiet scene so abruptly presented to me, gave check to my thoughts, and somewhat sobered me.
At some distance to my left I could distinguish in the middle of the river the pile of buildings which crowd the Ile de la Cite, and could follow the nearer arm of the stream as it swept landwards of these, closely hemmed in by houses, but unbroken as yet by the arches of the Pont Neuf which I have lived to see built. Not far from me on my right--indeed within a stone's throw--the bulky mass of the Louvre rose dark and shapeless against the sky. Only a narrow open space--the foreshore--separated me from the water; beyond which I could see an irregular line of buildings, that no doubt formed the Faubourg St. Germain.
I had been told that I should find stairs leading down to the water, and boats moored at the foot of them, at this point.
Accordingly I walked quickly across the open space to a spot, where I made out a couple of posts set up on the brink--doubtless to mark the landing place.
I had not gone ten paces, however, out of the shadow, before Ichanced to look round, and discerned with an unpleasant eerie feeling three figures detach themselves from it, and advance in a row behind me, so as the better to cut off my retreat. I was not to succeed in my enterprise too easily then. That was clear.
Still I thought it better to act as if I had not seen my followers, and collecting myself, I walked as quickly as I could down to the steps. The three were by that time close upon me--within striking distance almost. I turned abruptly and confronted them.
"Who are you, and what do you want?" I said, eyeing them warily, my hand on my sword.
They did not answer, but separated more widely so as to form a half-circle: and one of them whistled. On the instant a knot of men started out of the line of houses, and came quickly across the strip of light towards us.
The position seemed serious. If I could have run indeed--but Iglanced round, and found escape in that fashion impossible.
There were men crouching on the steps behind me, between me and the river. I had fallen into a trap. Indeed, there was nothing for it now but to do as Madame had bidden me, and play the man boldly. I had the words still ringing in my ears. I had enough of the excitement I had lately felt still bounding in my veins to give nerve and daring. I folded my arms and drew myself up.
"Knaves!" I said, with as much quiet contempt as I could muster, "you mistake me. You do not know whom you have to deal with.
Get me a boat, and let two of you row me across. Hinder me, and your necks shall answer for it--or your backs!"A laugh and an oath of derision formed the only response, and before I could add more, the larger group arrived, and joined the three.
"Who is it, Pierre?" asked one of these in a matter-of-fact way, which showed I had not fallen amongst mere thieves.
The speaker seemed to be the leader of the band. He had a feather in his bonnet, and I saw a steel corslet gleam under his cloak, when some one held up a lanthorn to examine me the better.
His trunk-hose were striped with black, white, and green--the livery as I learned afterwards of Monsieur the King's brother, the Duke of Anjou, afterwards Henry the Third; then a close friend of the Duke of Guise, and later his murderer. The captain spoke with a foreign accent, and his complexion was dark to swarthiness. His eyes sparkled and flashed like black beads. It was easy to see that he was an Italian.
"A gallant young cock enough," the soldier who had whistled answered; "and not quite of the breed we expected." He held his lanthorn towards me and pointed to the white badge on my sleeve.
