The White Plumes of Navarre: A Romance of the Wars of Religion Page 7
CHAPTER VI.
THE ARCHER'S CLOAK
As they left Paris behind and rode down the Orleans road, it soon becameevident that they had changed their surroundings. Men-at-arms, ScotsGuards, with great white crosses on their blue tabards, glared at thefour suspiciously. Cavaliers glanced suspiciously as they galloped past.Some halted, as if only prevented from investigating the circumstancesby the haste of their mission. Gay young men, on passaging horses, halfdrew their swords and growled unintelligible remarks, desisting only atthe sight of Claire Agnew's pale face underneath her hood.
"What can be the matter?" they asked each other. "Why do we, who passedthrough swarming Paris in the flood-tide of rebellion, who scrambled onbarricades and were given drink by the King's enemies--why should we nowbe looked askance at, riding peaceably Orleans-ward on our own hiredbeasts?"
None found an answer, but deep in every heart there was the conviction,universal in such a case, that somehow it was the other fellow's fault.It was Cabbage Jock who solved the mystery.
"In Rome you must do as the Romans," he said; "in Babylon's cursed city,though an abomination to do obeisance to the great whore (as sayeth theScripture), I have found it of remarkable service to don her uniformoccasionally--even as Paul did when he took shelter behind his Romancitizenship. It is that green furred gown of yours, Sir Professor! Thesebe King's men, hasting after the Master of the Mignons. I'll wager thenest is empty and the bird flown from under the pents of the Louvre."
"And what shall I do?" said the Professor of the Sorbonne, lookingregretfully at the fine Spanish cloth and rich fur. "Am I to cast away amatter of twenty good golden Henries?"
"By no means," said Cabbage Jock; "I came away somewhat hastily, to doyou service. I have no saddle saving these two millers' bags. I willfold the good gown beneath the two, and so sit comfortable as on anale-house couch, while you will ride safe----"
"And plumeless as a docked parrot," said the Abbe John, who was nowsufficiently far from Paris to begin to laugh at his master--at least alittle, and in an affectionate way.
The Professor looked disconsolate enough as he suffered his fine cloakto be stripped from his back.
"Ne'er mind," quoth Jean-aux-Choux, "we will soon right that. I knowthese King's men, and 'tis the Pope's own purgatory of a warm day. Thereare inns by the wayside, and wherever one is held by a well-madehostess, who lets poor puss come to the cream without so much'Hist-a-cat-ing,' I'll wager they will leave their cloaks in the hall.So we will come by a coat of the King's colours, all scallops and Bretonermines in memory of poor Queen Anne."
"I will not have you steal a cloak, sirrah," said the Professor;"indeed, I am nowise satisfied in my mind concerning these horses we areriding."
"Steal--not I," cried the Fool; "not likely, and the Montfacon gibbet atone's elbow yonder, with the crows a-swirling and pecking about it as inthe time of naughty Clerk Francis. Nay, I thank you. I have money hereto pay for a gross of cloaks!"
And Cabbage Jock slapped his pocket as he spoke--which indeed, thusinterrogated, gave back a most satisfactory jingle of coin.
The Professor had first of all meant to point out to Jean-aux-Choux thatto have the money in his pocket, and to pay it out, were two thingsentirely different, when it came to borrowing other men's cloaks, butsomething else leaped up in his mind, sudden as a trout in a pool. Heturned upon Jean-aux-Choux.
"How do you know about Clerk Francis and the gallows at Montfacon?" hedemanded. For at first, with the ear of a man accustomed to talk only tomen who pick up allusions as pigeons do scattered grain, he had acceptedthe words without question.
"How am I to know?" retorted Jean-aux-Choux. "One hears so many things.I do not know."
"But," said the Professor of Eloquence, pursuing his idea, "there arenot many even at the Sorbonne, which is the grave of wisdom whence is noresurrection (I am of the Sadducean faction), who have heard tell of oneClerk Francois Villon, Master of Arts, and once an ornament of ourUniversity. How came you to know of him? Come now, out with it! You arehiding something!"
"Sir," said the Fool, "I have made sport for Kings of the Louvre andKings of Bedlam; for Henry of yesterday, who is Henry of Valois; forHenry of to-day, who is Henry of Guise; and for Henry of to-morrow, whois----"
But the Professor of the Sorbonne was a man of sense, and he knew thatthe place for discussing such things was by no means on the Orleanshighway.
So he commanded Jean-aux-Choux to trouble no more about royal Henriespast, present, and especially Henries to come, but to be off and findhim a cloak.
Then Cabbage Jock, in no haste, simply glanced at the ale-house doors asthey came near Bourg-la-Reine, and at last with a wave of his handsignalled his three companions to ride on.
When he overtook them an hour afterwards, Bourg-la-Reine was hidden farbehind among the wayside trees. Jean-aux-Choux saluted, and asked in aquiet man-servant's voice if the honourable Doctor would be pleased toput on his coat.
"Then, you gallows' rascal," said the Professor of the Sorbonne, "it wastrue, after all. You have stolen the cloak, and you would have me, arespectable citizen, reset the theft!"
Jean-aux-Choux held up his hand.
"Sir," he said, "I have often heard from my masters that it is thespecial function of a cook to make ready the soup, and of the Sorbonneto resolve cases of conscience?"
"Well, then," he went on, as Doctor Anatole did not answer, "here isone."
"In an ale-house were certain sons of Belial, whose very jesting wasinconvenient, and their words not once to be named among us, as sayeththe apostle. Well, there came a certain braggart out of this foulpoison-box. He had seen an honest man pass by, fleeing from Paris, withall his goods laden on a mule. Now this knave would have taken all andslain the honest merchant as well, had I not passed by, and sobelaboured him that he will not rise from his bed for a fortnight. Thenthe good merchant (he was a Jew from the Quartier Saint Jacques) bademe choose what I would for my recompense. And so from his packages Ichose this fine cloak, fit for the Provost of the Merchants himself, andwith that he thanked me and went his way."
"And what," cried the Abbe John, hugely interested, "became of thatrascal's companions? It is strange that, hearing the racket, they didnot hive out to his assistance! Yesterday they hamstrung a man forless--an archer of the King's!"
"It would indeed have been somewhat strange," agreed Cabbage Jock, "if,before our little interview, I had not taken the liberty of locking boththe outer and inner doors of the inn. But they have nothing to complainabout, these good lads. They have a kindly hostess and a full cellar.E'en let them be content!"
And with no more words he took out of his pouch two keys, one large andrusty, the other small and glittering. These he tossed carefully, oneafter the other, into the Orge. They were just upon the famous bridgeacross which the postillion of Longjumeau so often took his way. Thekeys flashed a moment on the water as the drops rose and fell. ThenCabbage Jock turned on his companions and smiled his broad simpleton'ssmile as he waved his hand in the direction of the inn.
"Let there be peace," he said solemnly--"peace between Jew and Gentile.Will it please you to put on your coat now, Sir Professor?"
And as the air bit shrewdly, it pleased the Professor well enough.