第43章 EAUCOURT BY THE WATERS(6)

"Knee to knee, Gawain," said Gaspard, "as at St.John d'Ulloa.Remember, Petrucci is for me."The Italian's band, crazy with drink and easy slaying, straggled across the wide quay and had no thought of danger till the two horsemen were upon them.The songs died on their lips as they saw bearing down on them an avenging army.The scared cries of "The Huguenots!" "Montgomery!" were to Gaspard's following a confirmation of their treachery.The swords of the bravos and the axes and knives of the Parisian mob made havoc with the civilian rabble, but the men-at-arms recovered themselves and in knots fought a stout battle.But the band was broken at the start by the two grim horsemen who rode through it as through meadow grass, their blades falling terribly, and then turned and cut their way back.Yet a third time they turned, and in that last mowing they found their desire.A tall man in crimson appeared before them.Gaspard flung his reins to Champernoun and in a second was on the ground, fighting with a fury that these long hours had been stifled.Before his blade the Italian gave ground till he was pinned against the wall of the Bourbon hotel.His eyes were staring with amazement and dawning fear."I am a friend," he stammered in broken French and was answered in curt Spanish.Presently his guard weakened and Gaspard gave him the point in his heart.As he drooped to the ground, his conquetor bent over him."The Admiral is avenged," he said."Tell your master in hell that you died at the hands of Coligny's kinsman."Gaspard remounted, and, since the fight had now gone eastward, they rode on to the main gate of the Louvre, where they met a company of the royal Guards coming out to discover the cause of an uproar so close to the Palace.He told his tale of the Spanish Embassy and showed Guise's jewel.

"The streets are full of Huguenots badged as Catholics.His Majesty will be well advised to quiet the rabble or he will lose some trusty servants."In the Rue du Coq, now almost empty, the two, horsemen halted.

"We had better be journeying, Gawain.Guise's jewel will open the gates.In an hour's time all Paris will be on our trail.""There is still that priest," said Champernoun doggedly.He was breathing heavily, and his eyes were light and daring.Like all his countrymen, he was slow to kindle but slower to cool.

"In an hour, if we linger here, we shall be at his mercy.Let us head for the St.Antoine gate."The jewel made their way easy, for through that gate Henry of Guise himself had passed in the small hours."Half an hour ago," the lieutenant of the watch told them, "I opened to another party which bore the Duke's credentials.They were for Amiens to spread the good news.""Had they a priest with them?"

"Ay, a Jacobin monk, who cried on them to hasten and not spare their horses.He said there was much to do in the north.""I think the holy man spoke truth," said Gaspard, and they rode into open country.

They broke their fast on black bread and a cup of wine at the first inn, where a crowd of frightened countrymen were looking in the direction of Paris.It was now about seven o'clock, and a faint haze, which promised heat, cloaked the ground.From it rose the towers and high-peaked roofs of the city, insubstantial as a dream.

"Eaucourt by the waters!" sighed Gaspard."That the same land should hold that treasure and this foul city!"Their horses, rested and fed, carried them well on the north road, but by ten o'clock they had overtaken no travellers, save a couple of servants, on sorry nags, who wore the Vidame of Amiens' livery.They were well beyond Oise ere they saw in the bottom of a grassy vale a little knot of men.

"I make out six," said Champernoun, who had a falcon's eye."Two priests and four men-at-arms.Reasonable odds, such as I love.Faith, that monk travels fast!""I do not think there will be much fighting," said Gaspard.

Twenty minutes later they rode abreast of the party, which at first had wheeled round on guard, and then had resumed its course at the sight of the white armlets.It was as Champernoun had said.Four lusty arquebusiers escorted the Jacobin.But the sixth man was no priest.He was a Huguenot minister whom Gaspard remembered with Conde's army, an elderly frail man bound with cruel thongs to a horse's back and his legs tethered beneath its belly.

Recognition awoke in the Jacobin's eye."Ah, my lords of Spain! What brings you northward?"Gaspard was by his side, while Champernoun a pace behind was abreast the minister.