The Lock and Key Library: Classic Mystery and Detective Stories: Modern English
"That depends upon Master la Rivière," the girl answered. "To-morrow
night, I understand, if Master la Rivière can have the stuff ready."
I met the king's eyes. They shone fiercely in the faint light, which
issuing from the window fell on him. Of all things he hated treachery
most, and La Rivière was his first body physician, and at this very time,
as I well knew, was treating him for a slight derangement which the king
had brought upon himself by his imprudence. This doctor had formerly been
in the employment of the Bouillon family, who had surrendered his services
to the king. Neither I nor his majesty had trusted the Duke of Bouillon
for the last year past, so that we were not surprised by this hint that he
was privy to the design.
Despite our anxiety not to miss a word, an approaching step warned us at
this moment to draw back. More than once before we had done so to escape
the notice of a wayfarer passing up and down. But this time I had a
difficulty in inducing the king to adopt the precaution. Yet it was well
that I succeeded, for the person who came stumbling along toward us did
not pass, but, mounting the steps, walked by within touch of us and
entered the house.
"The plot thickens," muttered the king. "Who is this?"
At the moment he asked I was racking my brain to remember. I have a good
eye and a fair recollection for faces, and this was one I had seen several
times. The features were so familiar that I suspected the man of being a
courtier in disguise, and I ran over the names of several persons whom I
knew to be Bouillon's secret agents. But he was none of these, and obeying
the king's gesture, I bent myself again to the task of listening.
The girl looked up on the man's entrance, but did not rise. "You are late,
Martin," she said.
"A little," the newcomer answered. "How do you do, Master Andrew? What
cheer? What, still vexing, mistress?" he added contemptuously to the girl.
"You have too soft a heart for this business!"
She sighed, but made no answer.
"You have made up your mind to it, I hear?" said the innkeeper.
"That is it. Needs must when the devil drives!" replied the man jauntily.
He had a downcast, reckless, luckless air, yet in his face I thought I
still saw traces of a better spirit.
"The devil in this case was Epernon," quoth Andrew.
"Aye, curse him! I would I had cut his dainty throat before he crossed my
threshold," cried the desperado. "But there, it is too late to say that
now. What has to be done, has to be done."
"How are you going about it? Poison, the mistress says."
"Yes; but if I had my way," the man growled fiercely, "I would out one of
these nights and cut the dogs' throats in the kennel!"
"You could never escape, Martin!" the girl cried, rising in excitement.
"It would be hopeless. It would merely be throwing away your own life."
"Well, it is not to be done that way, so there is an end of it," quoth the
man wearily. "Give me my supper. The devil take the king and Sully too! He
will soon have them."
On this Master Andrew rose, and I took his movement toward the door for a
signal for us to retire. He came out at once, shutting the door behind him
as he bade the pair within a loud good night. He found us standing in the
street waiting for him and forthwith fell on his knees in the mud and
looked up at me, the perspiration standing thick on his white face. "My
lord," he cried hoarsely, "I have earned my pardon!"
"If you go on," I said encouragingly, "as you have begun, have no fear."
Without more ado I whistled up the Swiss and bade Maignan go with them and
arrest the man and woman with as little disturbance as possible. While
this was being done we waited without, keeping a sharp eye upon the
informer, whose terror, I noted with suspicion, seemed to be in no degree
diminished. He did not, however, try to escape, and Maignan presently came
to tell us that he had executed the arrest without difficulty or
resistance.
The importance of arriving at the truth before Epernon and the greater
conspirators should take the alarm was so vividly present to the minds of
the king and myself, that we did not hesitate to examine the prisoners in
their house, rather than hazard the delay and observation which their
removal to a more fit place must occasion. Accordingly, taking the
precaution to post Coquet in the street outside, and to plant a burly
Swiss in the doorway, the king and I entered. I removed my mask as I did
so, being aware of the necessity of gaining the prisoners' confidence, but
I begged the king to retain his. As I had expected, the man immediately
recognized me and fell on his knees, a nearer view confirming the notion I
had previously entertained that his features were familiar to me, though I
could not remember his name. I thought this a good starting-point for my
examination, and bidding Maignan withdraw, I assumed an air of mildness
and asked the fellow his name.
"Martin, only, please your lordship," he answered; adding, "once I sold
you two dogs, sir, for the chase, and to your lady a lapdog called Ninette
no larger than her hand."
I remembered the knave, then, as a fashionable dog dealer, who had been
much about the court in the reign of Henry the Third and later; and I saw
at once how convenient a tool he might be made, since he could be seen in
converse with people of all ranks without arousing suspicion. The man's
face as he spoke expressed so much fear and surprise that I determined to
try what I had often found successful in the case of greater criminals, to
squeeze him for a confession while still excited by his arrest, and before
he should have had time to consider what his chances of support at the
hands of his confederates might be. I charged him therefore solemnly to
tell the whole truth as he hoped for the king's mercy. He heard me, gazing
at me piteously; but his only answer, to my surprise, was that he had
nothing to confess.
"Come, come," I replied sternly, "this will avail you nothing; if you do
not speak quickly, rogue, and to the point, we shall find means to compel
you. Who counseled you to attempt his majesty's life?"
On this he stared so stupidly at me, and exclaimed with so real an
appearance of horror: "How? I attempt the king's life? God forbid!" that I
doubted that we had before us a more dangerous rascal than I had thought,
and I hastened to bring him to the point.
"What, then," I cried, frowning, "of the stuff Master la Rivière is to
give you to take the king's life to-morrow night? Oh, we know something, I
assure you; bethink you quickly, and find your tongue if you would have an
easy death."
I expected to see his self-control break down at this proof of our
knowledge of his design, but he only stared at me with the same look of
bewilderment. I was about to bid them bring in the informer that I might
see the two front to front, when the female prisoner, who had hitherto
stood beside her companion in such distress and terror as might be
expected in a woman of that class, suddenly stopped her tears and
lamentations. It occurred to me that she might make a better witness. I
turned to her, but when I would have questioned her she broke into a wild
scream of hysterical laughter.
From that I remember that I learned nothing, though it greatly annoyed me.
But there was one present who did--the king. He laid his hand on my
shoulder, gripping it with a force that I read as a command to be silent.
"Where," he said to the man, "do you keep the King and Sully and Epernon,
my friend?"
"The King and Sully--with the lordship's leave," said the man quickly,
with a frightened glance at me--"are in the kennels at the back of the
house, but it is not safe to go near them. The King is raving mad,
and--and the other dog is sickening. Epernon we had to kill a month back.
He brought the disease here, and I have had such losses through him as
have nearly ruined me, please your lordship."
"Get up--get up, man!" cried the king, and tearing off his mask he stamped
up and down the room, so torn by paroxysms of laughter that he choked
himself when again and again he attempted to speak.
I too now saw the mistake, but I could not at first see it in the same
light. Commanding myself as well as I could, I ordered one of the Swiss to
fetch in the innkeeper, but to admit no one else.
The knave fell on his knees as soon as he saw me, his cheeks shaking like
a jelly.
"Mercy, mercy!" was all he could say.
"You have dared to play with me?" I whispered.
"You bade me joke," he sobbed, "you bade me."
I was about to say that it would be his last joke in this world--for my
anger was fully aroused--when the king intervened.
"Nay," he said, laying his hand softly on my shoulder. "It has been the
most glorious jest. I would not have missed it for a kingdom. I command
you, Sully, to forgive him."
Thereupon his majesty strictly charged the three that they should not on
peril of their lives mention the circumstances to anyone. Nor to the best
of my belief did they do so, being so shrewdly scared when they recognized
the king that I verily think they never afterwards so much as spoke of the
affair to one another. My master further gave me on his own part his most
gracious promise that he would not disclose the matter even to Madame de
Verneuil or the queen, and upon these representations he induced me freely
to forgive the innkeeper. So ended this conspiracy, on the diverting
details of which I may seem to have dwelt longer than I should; but alas!
in twenty-one years of power I investigated many, and this one only can I
regard with satisfaction. The rest were so many warnings and predictions
of the fate which, despite all my care and fidelity, was in store for the
great and good master I served.
Robert Louis Stevenson
_The Pavilion on the Links_
I
I was a great solitary when I was young. I made it my pride to keep aloof
and suffice for my own entertainment; and I may say that I had neither
friends nor acquaintances until I met that friend who became my wife and
the mother of my children. With one man only was I on private terms; this
was R. Northmour, Esquire, of Graden Easter, in Scotland. We had met at
college; and though there was not much liking between us, nor even much
intimacy, we were so nearly of a humor that we could associate with ease
to both. Misanthropes, we believed ourselves to be; but I have thought
since that we were only sulky fellows. It was scarcely a companionship,
but a co-existence in unsociability. Northmour's exceptional violence of
temper made it no easy affair for him to keep the peace with anyone but
me; and as he respected my silent ways, and let me come and go as I
pleased, I could tolerate his presence without concern. I think we called
each other friends.
When Northmour took his degree and I decided to leave the university
without one, he invited me on a long visit to Graden Easter; and it was
thus that I first became acquainted with the scene of my adventures. The
mansion house of Graden stood in a bleak stretch of country some three
miles from the shore of the German Ocean. It was as large as a barrack;
and as it had been built of a soft stone, liable to consume in the eager
air of the seaside, it was damp and draughty within and half ruinous
without. It was impossible for two young men to lodge with comfort in
such a dwelling. But there stood in the northern part of the estate, in a
wilderness of links and blowing sand hills, and between a plantation and
the sea, a small pavilion or belvedere, of modern design, which was
exactly suited to our wants; and in this hermitage, speaking little,
reading much, and rarely associating except at meals, Northmour and I
spent four tempestuous winter months. I might have stayed longer; but one