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Count Hannibal

Page 13

"The Admiral? Monsieur, Guise, and the Grand Prior; Cosseins and Besme

have charge. 'Tis to be done first. Then the Provost will raise the

town. He will have a body of stout fellows ready at three or four

rendezvous, so that the fire may blaze up everywhere at once. Marcel,

the ex-provost, has the same commission south of the river. Orders to

light the town as for a frolic have been given, and the Halles will be

ready."

Nancay nodded, reflected a moment, and then with an involuntary shudder-"God!" he exclaimed, "it will shake the world!"

"You think so?"

"Ay, will it not!" His next words showed that he bore Tavannes' warning

in mind. "For me, my friend, I go in mail to-night," he said. "There

will be many a score paid before morning, besides his Majesty's. And

many a left-handed blow will be struck in the melee!"

The other crossed himself. "Grant none light here!" he said devoutly.

And with a last look he nodded and went out.

In the doorway he jostled a person who was in the act of entering. It

was M. de Tignonville, who, seeing Nancay at his elbow, saluted him, and

stood looking round. The young man's face was flushed, his eyes were

bright with unwonted excitement.

"M. de Rochefoucauld?" he asked eagerly. "He has not left yet?"

Nancay caught the thrill in his voice, and marked the young man's flushed

face and altered bearing. He noted, too, the crumpled paper he carried

half-hidden in his hand; and the Captain's countenance grew dark. He

drew a step nearer, and his hand reached softly for his dagger. But his

voice, when he spoke, was smooth as the surface of the pleasure-loving

Court, smooth as the externals of all things in Paris that summer

evening.

"He is here still," he said. "Have you news, M. de Tignonville?"

"News?"

"For M. de Rochefoucauld?"

Tignonville laughed. "No," he said. "I am here to see him to his

lodging, that is all. News, Captain? What made you think so?"

"That which you have in your hand," Nancay answered, his fears relieved.

The young man blushed to the roots of his hair. "It is not for him," he

said.

"I can see that, Monsieur," Nancay answered politely. "He has his

successes, but all the billets-doux do not go one way."

The young man laughed, a conscious, flattered laugh. He was handsome,

with such a face as women love, but there was a lack of ease in the way

he wore his Court suit. It was a trifle finer, too, than accorded with

Huguenot taste; or it looked the finer for the way he wore it, even as

Teligny's and Foucauld's velvet capes and stiff brocades lost their

richness and became but the adjuncts, fitting and graceful, of the men.

Odder still, as Tignonville laughed, half hiding and half revealing the

dainty scented paper in his hand, his clothes seemed smarter and he more

awkward than usual.

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