La Dame de Monsoreau (43 page)

To this idea, an idea so tenacious that it racked the poor monk's brain for a full quarter of an hour, succeeded another a little more rational : it was to make the best of his way to the Come d'Abondance, send for Chicot, if he did not find him still asleep there, explain his deplorable situation, which was entirely due to his weakness in yielding to the jester's bacchanalian temptations, and persuade his generous friend to make some alimentary provision for him.

This idea ran in his head for a whole quarter of an hour also, for he was of a judicious turn of mind, and the notion was, really, not without merit.

And, finally, came to him another idea which was not lacking in audacity : it was to take a turn round the walls of Paris, slip in through the Porte de Saint-Germain or the Tour de Nesle, and go on with his work of collecting in the city clandestinely. He knew all the good stands, the fertile corners, the little streets where certain gossipy housewives, noted for the rearing of succulent fowl, had always a dead capon for the brother collector's wallet; he saw in memory's faithful mirror a house approached by a flight of steps, where in summer were made all kinds of preserves, and this for the main purpose — at least, so Brother Gorenflot loved to fancy — of throwing into the brother collector's bag, in exchange for his paternal benediction, — at one time, a quantity of quince jelly ; at another, a dozen of pickled walnuts ; at another, a box of dried apples, whose mere odor would make a dead man's mouth water for something to drink. For, to be candid, Brother Crorenflot's idea mainly turned on the pleasures of the table

and the delectability of perfect repose, so that he sometimes thought, not without alarm, of those two devil's attorneys who, on the day of the last judgment, would be likely to plead against him, and whose names are Sloth and Gluttony. But, in the meantime, the worthy monk, we are bound to admit, followed, not without remorse, perhaps, the flowery path that leads to the abyss at whose bottom howl unceasingly, like Scylla and Charybdis, those two mortal sins.

Consequently, this last plan was especially attractive to him; that was the kind of life, he thought, to which he was naturally adapted. But to carry out that plan and follow that mode of life he should have to stay in Paris, and, at every step, risk encountering the archers and sergeants and the ecclesiastical authorities, the latter a sort of folk not to be trifled with by a vagabond monk.

And then, there was another difficulty : the treasurer of the convent of Sainte Genevieve was too careful an administrator to leave Paris without a brother collector ; Gorenflot would run the risk, therefore, of being confronted by a colleague who would have over him the incontestable advantage of being in the lawful exercise of his functions.

The very idea made Gorenflot shudder, and, certainly, with good reason.

The monk had got this far in his monologues and his misgivings, when he caught a glimpse of a horseman galloping so fast under the Porte Bordelle that the hoof-beats of his steed made the vault shake.

This man alighted near a house at about a hundred paces from where Gorenflot was sitting; he knocked, the gate flew open, and horse and horseman vanished.

Gorenflot took particular note of the incident, because he envied the good fortune of this cavalier who had a horse and could, consequently, sell it.

But in a moment the cavalier — Gorenflot recognized him by his cloak — came out of the house, and, seeing a clump of trees at some distance and a big heap of stones in front of the clump, he went and crouched between the trees and this novel sort of bastion.

"He ? s lying in wait for some one,'as sure as fate," murmured Gorenflot. " If I were not afraid of the archers I would go and warn them, or if I were a little braver I 'd make a stand against him myself."

At this moment the man in ambush, whose eyes were fixed on the city gate, except now and then when he examined the neighborhood with evident anxiety, during one of the rapid looks he threw to his right and left at intervals perceived Gorenflot, still sitting with his chin in his hand. The sight embarrassed him. He began walking with an affected air of indifference behind the pile of stone.

" Why," said Gorenflot, " I think I should know that figure — those features — but no, it is impossible."

Scarcely had the monk finished this observation when the man, who had his back turned on him, suddenly sank down, as if the muscles of his legs had given way under him. He had just heard the echo of horses' hoofs coming through the city gate.

And, in fact, three men, two of whom seemed lackeys, with three good mules and three big portmanteaus, were advancing slowly through the Porte Bordelle. The man behind the stones, as soon as he perceived them, grew even smaller than before, if that were possible, and, creeping rather than walking, he gained the group of trees. He crouched down behind the thickest of them in the attitude of a hunter on the watch.

The cavalcade passed without seeing him, or, at any rate, without noticing him, while he exaimed them with the greatest attention.

" I have hindered the commission of a crime," said Gorenflot to himself ; " and my presence on this road at this hour is clearly a manifestation of the divine will ; but I hope there will be another manifestation that will show me how to get my breakfast."

The cavalcade passed, and the watcher reentered the house.

" Good ! " said Gorenflot, " this incident will surely, or 1 am much mistaken, bring me the godsend I have been on the lookout for. A man who watches does n't care to be seen. I have got hold of a secret, and, though it were worth only six deniers, no matter, I '11 turn it to account."

And Gorenflot took his way at once to the house, but, before he reached it, he called to mind the martial appearance of the cavalier, the long rapier that flapped against his legs, and the terrible eyes that had stared at the passing cavalcade; then he said to himself:

" After all, I think I have made a mistake ; a man like that is n't easily scared."

At the door Gorenflot had no longer a doubt, and it was not his nose he scratched now, but his ear.

Suddenly his face brightened up.

" An idea ! " he exclaimed.

The awakening of an idea in the monk's torpid brain was so complicated an affair that he himself was astonished at its advent ; but, even in that age, people were acquainted with the proverb : " Necessity is the mother of invention."

" An idea," he repeated, " ay, and an ingenious idea, too. I will say to him : * Monsieur, every man has his own plans, desires, and hopes. I will pray for the success of your plans ; give me something.' If his plans are evil, and I have no doubt they are, he will have double need of my prayers, and will, therefore, grant me an alms. And, as far as I am concerned, all I have to do is to submit the case to the first doctor I happen to meet afterward. I will ask him is it right to pray for the success of plans that are unknown to you, but which you suspect to be evil. Whatever the docter tells me to do, I will do ; consequently, he, not I, will be responsible. If I should not meet a doctor, which is quite probable, I '11 abstain from praying. In the meantime, I shall have breakfasted on the alms of that evil-minded individual."

In pursuance of this resolution, Gorenflot stood close to the wall and waited.

Five minutes later, the gate opened, and man and horse appeared, the one on top of the other.

Gorenflot approached.

" Monsieur," said he, " if five Paters and five Aves for the success of your plans would be pleasing to you " —

The man turned round and faced the monk.

" Gorenflot! " he exclaimed.

" Monsieur Chicot! " cried Gorenflot, open-mouthed.

" And where the devil may you be going, comrade ? " asked Chicot.

" Have n't an idea. And you ? "

" Oh, it 's different with me," said Chicot; " I have an idea I am going straight before me."

"Far?"

" Until I stop. But, say, comrade, since you don't know why you are here, I suspect something."

« What ? "

" That you are spying on me."

" Jesus ! I spying ! the Lord forbid. I saw you. that's all."

"Saw what?"

" Saw you watching the passing of the mules."

" You are mad."

" But you were behind those stones, and you had your eyes open, too ! "

" See here, Gorenflot, I wish to build a house outside the walls ; this freestone is mine, and I wanted to be sure it was of good quality."

" Oh, that's a different thing," said the monk, who did not believe a word of Chicot's reply ; " I was mistaken."

" But what are you doing yourself outside the barriers ?"

" Alas ! M. Chicot, I am exiled," answered Gorenflot, with an enormous sigh.

« What ? " asked Chicot.

« Exiled, I tell you."

And Gorenflot, draping himself in his robe, raised his short figure to its full height and tossed his head to and fro with the imperious air of a man who, having met with a terrible catastrophe, has, therefore, a rightful claim to the sympathy of his fellows.

" My brethren," he continued, " have cast me out from their bosom; I am excommunicated, anathematized ! "

" Nonsense ! for what ? "

" Listen, M. Chicot," said the monk, laying his hand on his heart; " you may n't believe me, but Gorenflot pledges you his solemn word he does n't know."

" Perhaps you were found prowling about last night where you ought n't, eh, comrade ? "

" To joke in that way is revolting," said Gorenflot; " you know perfectly well what I did last night."

" Yes," returned Chicot, " from eight to ten, but not from ten to three."

" What do you mean by from ( ten to three' ? "

" I mean you went out at ten."

" I! " exclaimed Gorenflot, staring at the Gascon with eyes that seemed bursting out of his head.

" Undoubtedly, you; and I asked you where you were going."

" Where I was going ; you asked me that ? "

« Yes."

" And what did I answer ? "

" That you were going to preach a sermon."

" There is some truth, however, in all this," murmured Go-renflot, staggered.

u Parbleu ! I should say there was ! Yes, and you repeated a part of your sermon ; it was very long."

" It was in three parts; a division recommended by Aristotle."

" And were n't there terrible things against King Henri III. in that same discourse of yours ? "

" Oh, nonsense ! "

" So terrible that I should not wonder if you were prosecuted for sedition."

" M. Chicot, you open my eyes. Did I seem quite awake when I was speaking to you ? "

" I must say, comrade, you looked very queer; there was a fixed gaze in your eyes which frightened me. It seemed as if you were awake and yet not awake, and as if you were talking in your sleep."

" And yet I feel sure I awoke this morning in the Corne d'Abondance, though the very devil were to say the contrary."

" Well! what is there astonishing about that ? "

" What! nothing astonishing about that and you after telling me I left the Corne d'Abondance at ten ? "

" Yes, but you returned at three in the morning; and, to prove it, I will even tell you you left the door open, and I was nearly freezing."

"And so was I, too ; I remember that."

" So you see, then ! " answered Chicot.

" If what you tell me is true "

" If what I tell you is true ? Of course it is true ; you go ask Maitre Bonhomet."

" Maitre Bonhomet ? "

" Yes. It was he opened the door for you. I remember also you were so puffed up with pride on your return that I said to you: 'Fie, fie, comrade ! pride does not become any man, especially if that man is a monk.' >;

" And what was I proud of ? "

" Of the success of your sermon and the compliments paid you by the Due de Guise, the cardinal, and M. de Mayenne, — whom God preserve ! r added the Gascon, raising his hat.

" Now all is clear to me," said Gorenflot.

"That's fortunate ; you agree, then, you were at that meeting ? — what the mischief do you call it ? Oh, I remember, the holy Union ; yes, that is it."

Brother Gorenflot's head dropped on his breast, and he groaned.

" I am a somnambulist," said he ; "I have long suspected it."

" Somnambulist! " repeated Chicot; " what do you mean by that ? "

" That means, M. Chicot," said the monk, " that, in my case, mind dominates matter to such a degree that, when the body sleeps, the spirit is awake, and, when the spirit gives its orders to the body, the body has to obey, though it be ever so fast asleep."

" Heyday ! " exclaimed Chicot ; " why, comrade, all this smacks of sorcery ; if you are possessed, say so, frankly. A man who walks in his sleep, gesticulates in his sleep, preaches sermons in which he attacks the King, and all this in his sleep ! — venire de biche ! 't is not natural. Avaunt, Beelzebub ; vade retro, Satanas ! "

And he made his horse swerve, as if he wanted to get away from the brother.

" And so you, too, M. Chicot, forsake me. Tu quoque, Brute, Ah ! I should never have believed that of you," said Gorenflot, in desperation.

And the sigh the monk heaved was heart-breaking.

Chicot had compassion on this awful desperation, which was only the more terrible because it centred on one single point.

" Well, well," said he; " what 's this you have been saying ?»

" When ? "

" Just now."

" Alas ! I don't know, M. Chicot; I am nearly crazy. What with an over-full head and an empty stomach — oh ! M. Chicot, can't you do something for me ? "

" You spoke of travelling ? "

" Yes, the reverend prior has invited me to travel."