A Gentleman of France: Being the Memoirs of Gaston de Bonne Sieur de Marsac by - (best love novels of all time .txt) 📕

Marsac—you who now go in velvet, and have three men at your back? Or whose gold it is has brought you here, and made you, this? Chut! Do not let us trifle. You are here as the secret agent of the King of Navarre. It is my business to learn your plans and his intentions, and I propose to do so.’

‘Well?’ I said.

‘I am prepared to buy them,’ he answered; and his eyes sparkled as he spoke, with a greed which set me yet more on my guard.

‘For whom?’ I asked. Having made up my mind that I must use the same weapons as my adversary, I reflected that to express indignation, such as might become a young man new to the world, could, help me not a whit. ‘For whom?’ I repeated, seeing that he hesitated.

‘That is my business,’ he replied slowly.

‘You want to know too much and tell too little,’ I retorted, yawning.

‘And you are playing with me,’ he cried, looking at me suddenly, with so piercing a gaze and so dark a countenance that I checked a shudder with difficulty. ‘So much the worse for you, so much the worse for you!’ he continued fiercely. ‘I am here to buy the information you hold, but if you will not sell, there is another way. At an hour’s notice I can ruin your plans, and send you to a dungeon! You are like a fish caught in a net not yet drawn. It thrusts its nose this way and that, and touches the mesh, but is slow to take the alarm until the net is drawn—and then it is too late. So it is with you, and so it is,’ he added, falling into the ecstatic mood which marked him at times, and left me in doubt whether he were all knave or in part enthusiast, ‘with all those who set themselves against St. Peter and his Church!’

‘I have heard you say much the same of the King of France,’ I said derisively.

‘You trust in him?’ he retorted, his eyes gleaming. ‘You have been up there, and seen his crowded chamber, and counted his forty-five gentlemen and his grey-coated Swiss? I tell you the splendour you saw was a dream, and will vanish as a dream. The man’s strength and his glory shall go from him, and that soon. Have you no eyes to see that he is beside the question? There are but two powers in France—the Holy Union, which still prevails, and the accursed Huguenot; and between them is the battle.’

‘Now you are telling me more,’ I said.

He grew sober in a moment, looking at me with a vicious anger hard to describe.

‘Tut tut,’ he said, showing his yellow teeth, ‘the dead tell no tales. And for Henry of Valois, he so loves a monk that you might better accuse his mistress. But for you, I have only to cry “Ho! a Huguenot and a spy!” and though he loved you more than he loved Quelus or Maugiron, he dare not stretch out a finger to save you!’

I knew that he spoke the truth, and with difficulty maintained the air of indifference with which I had entered on the interview.

‘But what if I leave Blois?’ I ventured, merely to see what he would say.

He laughed. ‘You cannot,’ he answered. ‘The net is round you, M. de Marsac, and there are those at every gate who know you and have their instructions. I can destroy you, but I would fain have your information, and for that I will pay you five hundred crowns and let you go.’

‘To fall into the hands of the King of Navarre?’

‘He will disown you, in any case,’ he answered eagerly. ‘He had that in his mind, my friend, when he selected an agent so obscure. He will disown you. Ah, mon Dieu! had I been an hour quicker I had caught Rosny—Rosny himself!’

‘There is one thing lacking still,’ I replied. ‘How am I to be sure that, when I have told you what I know, you will pay me the money or let me go?’

‘I will swear to it!’ he answered earnestly, deceived into thinking I was about to surrender. ‘I will give you my oath, M. de Marsac!’

‘I would as soon have your shoe-lace!’ I exclaimed, the indignation I could not entirely repress finding vent in that phrase. ‘A Churchman’s vow is worth a candle—or a candle and a half, is it?’ I continued ironically. ‘I must have some security a great deal more substantial than that, father.’

‘What?’ he asked, looking at me gloomily.

Seeing an opening, I cudgelled my brains to think of any condition which, being fulfilled, might turn the table on him and place him in my power. But his position was so strong, or my wits so weak, that nothing occurred to me at the time, and I sat looking at, him, my mind gradually passing from the possibility of escape to the actual danger in which I stood, and which encompassed also Simon Fleix, and, in a degree, doubtless, M. de Rambouillet. In four or five days, too, Mademoiselle de la Vire would arrive. I wondered if I could send any warning to her; and then, again, I doubted the wisdom of interfering with M. de Rosny’s plans, the more as Maignan, who had gone to fetch mademoiselle, was of a kind to disregard any orders save his master’s.

‘Well!’ said the monk, impatiently recalling me to myself, ‘what security do you want?’

‘I am not quite sure at this moment,’ I made answer slowly. ‘I am in a difficult position. I must have some time to consider.’

‘And to rid yourself of me, if it be possible,’ he said with irony. ‘I quite understand. But I warn you that you are watched; and that wherever you go and whatever you do, eyes which are mine are upon you.’

‘I, too, understand,’ I said coolly.

He stood awhile uncertain, regarding me with mingled doubt and malevolence, tortured on the one hand by fear of losing the prize if he granted delay, on the other of failing as utterly if he exerted his power and did not succeed in subduing my resolution. I watched him, too, and gauging his eagerness and the value of the stake for which he was striving by the strength of his emotions, drew small comfort from the sight. More than once it had occurred to me, and now it occurred to me again, to extricate myself by a blow. But a natural reluctance to strike an unarmed man, however vile and knavish, and the belief that he had not trusted himself in my power without taking the fullest precautions, withheld me. When he grudgingly, and with many dark threats, proposed to wait three days—and not an hour more—for my answer, I accepted; for I saw no other alternative open. And on these terms, but not without some short discussion, we parted, and I heard his stealthy footstep go sneaking down the stairs.