The Greatest Historical Novels. Rafael Sabatini
not know that he would not return?' D'Entragues's eyes were like gimlets.
André-Louis met their searching glance with a crooked smile.
'Oh, but I am honoured! You take me for a half-wit. I sit for two hours awaiting the return of a man who I know will not return. Ah, but that is droll!' And he laughed outright.
Monsieur d'Entragues did not join in the laugh. 'If you intended, for instance, to cover his retreat?'
'His retreat?' André-Louis was suddenly grave again. 'His retreat? But from what, then, was he retreating? Was he threatened? Peste, Monsieur d'Entragues, you'll not mean that the visit of Monsieur de Tourzel and his friends ...'
'Bah!' snapped d'Entragues to interrupt him. 'What are you assuming?' There was a flush on his dark face. He was uncomfortably conscious that his zeal of investigation had half-betrayed a design which, having failed in execution, must never now be known.
But André-Louis, maliciously vindictive, pursued him. 'It is you, monsieur, who make assumptions, I think. If you assume that I stayed to cover a retreat, you must know that there was cause for it. That is plain enough.'
'I know nothing of the kind, sir. I only fear lest Monsieur Le Chapelier should have suspected some danger, and so have been led to make a departure which looks like a flight. Naturally, Monsieur Le Chapelier, as an agent of these revolutionaries, would know that here he has only enemies, and this may have made him start at shadows. Enough, sir! I'll conduct you to His Highness.'
In a small room communicating with the white-and-gold pillared salon that served as presence chamber, the King's brother was seated quill in hand at a table strewn with papers. He was attended by the Comte d'Avaray, his favourite, a slight, pale, delicate-looking man of thirty with thin, fair hair, who in appearance, dress, and manner affected the airs of an Englishman. He was a protégé of Madame de Balbi, to whom he owed a position which his own talents had very materially strengthened. Devoted to Monsieur, it was his wit and resource which had made possible the Prince's timely escape from Paris. Gentle, courteous, and affable, he had earned the esteem of the entire court if we except the ambitious Monsieur d'Entragues, who beheld in him a dangerous rival for Monsieur's favour.
His Highness slewed himself half-round in his chair to confront André-Louis. André-Louis bowed profoundly. The Comte d'Entragues remained watchful in the background.
'Ah, Monsieur Moreau.' There was a smile on Monsieur's full lips, but his prominent eyes under their heavy arched brows were hardly friendly. 'Considering your services to some persons we esteem, I must deplore that my brother, Monsieur d'Artois, should have found your opinions and principles of such a complexion that he has not been able to offer you any post in the army which is about to deliver Throne and Altar from the enemy.'
He paused there, and André-Louis felt it incumbent upon him to say something in reply.
'Perhaps I did not make it sufficiently clear to his highness that my principles are strictly monarchical, Monseigneur.'
'Strictly, perhaps, but inadequately. You are, I understand, a constitutionalist. That, however, is by the way.' He paused a moment. 'What was that officer's name, d'Entragues?'
'Tourzel, Monseigneur. Captain Clement de Tourzel.'
'Ah, yes. Tourzel. I understand, Monsieur Moreau, that you had the misfortune to enter into a quarrel last night with Captain de Tourzel.'
'Captain de Tourzel had that misfortune, Monseigneur.'
The great eyes bulged at him. Monsieur d'Avaray looked startled. D'Entragues in the background clicked softly with his tongue.
'To be sure, you have been a fencing-master,' said Monsieur. 'A fencing-master of considerable repute, I understand.' His tone was cold and distant. 'Do you think, Monsieur Moreau, that it is quite proper, quite honourable for a fencing-master to engage in duels? Is it not a little like .... like gaming with cogged dice?'
'That circumstance, Monseigneur, should prevent unpardonable utterances. A fencing-master is not to be insulted with impunity, because he is a fencing-master.'
'But I understand, sir, that you were the aggressor: that you struck Monsieur de Tourzel. That is so, d'Entragues, is it not? A blow was struck?'
André-Louis saved the Count the trouble of answering. 'I certainly struck Monsieur de Tourzel. But the blow was not the aggression. It was the answer to an insult that admitted of no other answer.'
'Is this so, d'Entragues?' His Highness became peevish. 'You did not tell me this, d'Entragues.'
'Naturally, Monseigneur, there must have been some provocation for the blow.'
'Then why am I not told? Why am I but half-informed? Monsieur Moreau, what was this provocation?'
André-Louis told him, adding: 'It is a lie, Monseigneur, that peculiarly defames my godfather, since I am to marry his niece. I could not let it pass even if I am a fencing-master.'
Monsieur breathed noisily. He showed signs of discomfort, of distress. 'But this is very grave, d'Entragues. Almost ... almost it touches the honour of Mademoiselle de Kercadiou.' It annoyed André-Louis that his Highness should make this the reason for his change of attitude. 'You agree that it is grave, d'Entragues?'
'Most grave, Monseigneur.'
Did this lantern-jawed fellow smile covertly, wondered André-Louis in suppressed fury.
'You will say two words from me to this Captain de Tourzel. You will tell him that I am not pleased with him. That I censure his conduct in the severest terms. That I regard it as disgraceful in a gentleman. Tell him this from me, d'Entragues; and see that he does not approach us again for at least a month.'
He turned once more to André-Louis. 'He shall make you an apology, Monsieur Moreau. Let him know that, too, d'Entragues: that he must formally retract to Monsieur Moreau, and this at once. You understand, Monsieur Moreau, that this matter can go no further. For one thing, there is an edict in the Electorate against duelling and we who are the Elector's guests must scrupulously respect his laws. For another, the time is not one in which it consorts with honour that gentlemen should engage in private quarrels. The King needs—urgently needs—every blade in his own cause. You understand, sir?'
André-Louis bowed. 'Perfectly, Monseigneur.'
'Then that is all, I think. I thank you for your attention. You may retire, Monsieur Moreau.' The plump white hand waved him away, the heavy lips parted in a cold half-smile.
In the antechamber Monsieur Moreau was desired to wait until Monsieur d'Entragues should have found Captain de Tourzel.
It was whilst he was cooling his heels there, the only tenant of that spacious, sparsely furnished hall, that Aline, accompanied by Madame de Plougastel, entered by the folding doors from the salon. He started towards them.
'Aline!'
But her expression checked his eagerness. There was a pallor about the lower half of her face, a little pucker between the fine brows, a general look of hurt sternness.
'Oh, how could you? How could you?'
'How could I what?'
'Break faith with me so. Betray what I told you in secret.'
He understood, and was not abashed. 'It was to save a man's life: the life of a friend. Chapelier was my friend.'
'But you did not know that when you drew from me the confidence.'
'I did. I knew that Le Chapelier was in Coblentz, and, therefore, that he must be the man concerned.'
'You knew? You knew?' She looked at him in deepening anger. Behind her stood Madame de Plougastel, sad-eyed after her little smile of greeting. 'And you said nothing of your knowledge. You led me on to talk. You drew it all from me with pretended indifference. That was sly, André. Horribly sly. I'd not have believed it of you.'
André-Louis was almost impatient. 'Will you tell me what harm is done? Or do you tell me that you are angry because a man, a friend of