"Well, upon my word," said the student to himself as he left the Palais de Justice, and mechanically crossed the Pont aux Moulins, which brought him out almost opposite the Châtelet; "upon my word, I am curious to know what Gervaise will say when she learns that her honor is valued at twenty Paris sous! She will say that I have been indiscreet, and told things I shouldn't have told, and she'll tear my eyes out. But what do I see yonder?"
What the student saw was a page belonging to the amiable nobleman to whom he was accustomed to confide his secrets, and whom he looked upon as one of his dearest friends. The boy was leaning up against the parapet of the bridge and amusing himself by performing sleight-of-hand tricks with pebbles.
"Pardieu!" said the student, "this happens very fortunately. My friend, whose name I don't know, and who seems to stand extremely well at court, may have influence enough to have me committed to prison: Providence sends his page to me to tell me where I can find him, as I know neither his name nor his address."
In order to avail himself of what he considered a direct interposition of Providence in his behalf, Jacques Aubry advanced toward the young page, who likewise recognized him, and, letting his three pebbles fall into the same hand, crossed his legs and awaited the student with that knowing look which is especially characteristic of the profession to which he had the honor to belong.
" Bon jour , Monsieur le Page," cried Aubry from the most distant point at which he thought the boy could hear his voice.
" Bon jour , Seigneur Student," was the reply; "what are you doing in this quarter?"
"Faith! if I must tell you, I was looking for something which I think I have found, now that I see you; I was seeking the address of my excellent friend, the comte—the baron—the vicomte—your master's address."
"Do you wish to see him?" asked the page.
"Instantly, if possible."
"In that case you will have your wish in a moment, for he is calling on the provost."
"At the Châtelet."
"Yes, he will come out directly."
"He's very lucky to be admitted to the Châtelet when he wishes; but is my friend the vicomte—the comte—the baron—"
"Vicomte."
"On intimate terms with Messire Robert d'Estourville? The Vicomte de— Tell me," continued Aubry, anxious to avail himself of the opportunity to learn his friend's name at last; "the Vicomte de—"
"The Vicomte de Mar—"
"Ah!" cried the student, interrupting the page in the middle of the word, as he saw the man he sought appear at the door. "Ah! my dear viscount, there you are. I was looking for you and waiting for you."
" Bon jour ," said Marmagne, evidently but little pleased at the meeting. " Bon jour , my dear fellow. I would be glad to talk with you, but unfortunately I am very hurried. So adieu."
"One moment, one moment," cried Jacques, clinging to his friend's arm; "deuce take me! you won't leave me like this. In the first place I have a very great favor to ask of you."
"You?"
"Yes, I; and God's law, you know, bids friends to succor one another."
"Friends?"
"To be sure; aren't you my friend? What constitutes friendship? Confidence. Now I am full of confidence in you. I tell you all my own business, and other people's too."
"Have you ever had occasion to repent of your confidence."
"Never, so far as you are concerned at least; but it's not so with everybody. There is one man in Paris that I am looking for, and with God's help I shall meet him some day."
"My dear fellow," interrupted Marmagne, who had a shrewd suspicion who the man was, "I told you that I was much hurried."
"But wait a moment, pray, when I tell you that you can do me a great service."
"Well, speak quickly."
"You stand well at court, do you not?"
"My friends say so."
"You have some influence then?"
"My enemies may discover it to their cost."
"Very good! Now my dear comte—my dear baron—my dear—"
"Vicomte."
"Help me to get into the Châtelet."
"In what capacity?"
"As a prisoner."
"As a prisoner? That's a singular ambition, on my word."
"As you please, but it's my ambition."
"For what purpose do you wish to be committed to the Châtelet?" queried Marmagne, who suspected that this strange desire on the part of the student indicated some new secret which it might be to his advantage to know.
"To any other than you I wouldn't tell it, my good friend," replied Jacques; "or I have learned to my cost, or rather to poor Ascanio's, that I must learn to hold my tongue. But with you it's a different matter. You know that I have no secrets from you."
"In that case tell me quickly."
"Will you have me committed to the Châtelet if I tell you?"
"Instantly."
"Well, my friend, imagine that I was idiot enough to confide to others than yourself the fact that I had seen a lovely girl in the head of the statue of Mars."
"What then?"
"The crack-brained fools! would you believe that they spread the story so that it came to the provost's ears; and as the provost had lost his daughter some days before, he suspected that it was she who had selected that hiding place. He notified D'Orbec and the Duchesse d'Etampes: they came to the Hôtel de Nesle to make a domiciliary visit while Benvenuto Cellini was at Fontainebleau. They carried off Colombe and imprisoned Ascanio."
"Nonsense!"
"It's as I tell you, my dear viscount. And who managed it all? A certain Vicomte de Marmagne."
"But," interposed the viscount, not at all pleased to hear his name upon the student's lips, "you don't tell me why you want to be committed to the Châtelet."
"You don't understand?"
"No."
"They arrested Ascanio."
"Yes."
"And took him to the Châtelet."
"Very good."
"But what they don't know, and what nobody knows save the Duchesse d'Etampes, Benvenuto, and myself, is that Ascanio possesses a certain letter, a certain secret, which places the duchess in his power. Now do you understand?"
"Yes I begin to see light. But do you help me, my dear friend."
"You see, viscount," continued Aubry, assuming a more and more aristocratic air, "I want to be admitted to the Châtelet, get to Ascanio's cell, take the letter or learn the secret, leave the prison again, go to Benvenuto and arrange with him some method whereby Colombe's virtue and Ascanio's love may triumph, to the confusion of the Marmagnes and D'Orbecs, the provost, the Duchesse d'Etampes, and the whole clique."
"That's a very ingenious plan," said Marmagne.
"Thanks for your confidence, my dear student. You shall have no reason to regret it."
"Do you promise me your assistance?"
"To what end?"
"Why, to help me get committed to the Châtelet, as I asked you."
"Rely upon me."
"Immediately?"
"Wait here for me."
"Where I am?"
"In this same spot."
"And you?"
"I am going to get the order for your arrest."
"Ah, my friend, my dear baron, my dear count! But you must tell me your name and address in case I may need you."
"Useless. I will return at once."
"Yes, return as soon as possible; and if you chance to meet that accursed Marmagne on the road, tell him—"
"What?"
"Tell him that I have sworn an oath that he shall die by no hand but mine."
"Adieu!" cried the viscount; "adieu, and wait here for me."
" Au revoir! " said Aubry. "I will expect you soon. Ah! you are a friend indeed, a man one can trust, and I would be glad to know—"
"Adieu, Seigneur Student," said the page, who had stood aloof during this conversation, and was now about to follow his master.
"Adieu, my pretty page," said Aubry; "but before you leave me do me a favor."
"What is it?"
"Who is this gallant nobleman to whom you have the honor to belong?"
"He whom you've been talking with for the last fifteen minutes?"
"The same."
"And whom you call friend?"
"Yes."
"You don't know his name?"
"No."
"Why, he is—"
"A very well known nobleman, is he not?"
"To be sure."
"And influential?"
"Next to the king and the Duchesse d'Etampes, he's the man."
"Ah! and his name you say is—"
"He is the Vicomte de—But he is turning back and calling me. Pardon—"
"The Vicomte de—"
"The Vicomte de Marmagne."
"Marmagne!" cried Aubry, "Vicomte de Marmagne! That young gentleman is the Vicomte de Marmagne!"
"Himself."
"Marmagne! the friend of the provost and D'Orbec and Madame d'Etampes?"
"In person."
"And the enemy of Benvenuto Cellini?"
"Just so."
"Ah!" exclaimed Aubry, to whom the whole past was revealed as by a flash of lightning. "Ah! I understand now. O Marmagne, Marmagne!"
As the student was unarmed, with a movement as swift as thought, he seized the page's short sword by the hilt, drew it from its sheath, and darted in pursuit of Marmagne, shouting, "Halt!"
At his first shout, Marmagne, decidedly ill at ease, looked around, and, seeing Aubry rushing after him sword in hand, suspected that he was discovered. To stand his ground or fly was therefore the only alternative. Marmagne was not quite courageous enough to stand his ground, nor was he quite enough of a coward to fly; he therefore adopted the intermediate course of darting into a house, the door of which stood open, hoping to close the door behind him. But unluckily for him it was held fast to the wall by a chain which he could not detach, so that Aubry, who was some little distance behind him, was in the little courtyard before he had time to reach the staircase.
"Ah! Marmagne! you damned viscount! you infernal spy! you filcher of secrets! it's you, is it? At last I know you, and have my hand on you! On guard, villain! on guard!"
"Monsieur," replied Marmagne, trying to assume a lordly bearing, "do you imagine that the Vicomte de Marmagne will honor the student Jacques Aubry by crossing swords with him?"
"If the Vicomte de Marmagne will not honor Jacques Aubry by crossing swords with him, Jacques Aubry will have the honor of passing his sword through the Vicomte de Marmagne's body."
To leave no doubt in the mind of him to whom this threat was addressed, Jacques Aubry placed the point of his sword against the viscount's breast, and let him feel the touch of the cold steel through his doublet.
"Murder!" cried Marmagne. "Help! help!"
"Oh, shout as much as you choose," retorted Jacques; "you will have done shouting before any one comes. And so the best thing you can do, viscount, is to defend yourself. On guard, viscount! on guard!"
"If you will have it so," cried the viscount, "wait a bit, and you will see!"
Marmagne, as the reader will have discovered ere this, was not naturally brave; but like all noblemen of that chivalrous epoch he had received a military education; furthermore, he was reputed to have some skill in fencing. It is true that this reputation was said to result rather in enabling him to avoid unpleasant encounters which he might have had, than in bringing to a fortunate conclusion those which he did have. It is none the less true that, being closely pressed by Jacques, he drew his sword and stood on guard in the most approved style of the art.
But if Marmagne's skill was recognized among the noblemen at court, Jacques Aubry's address was accepted as an incontestable fact among the students at the University and the clerks of the Basoche. The result was, that the moment their swords crossed each of the combatants saw that he had to do with no despicable opponent. But Marmagne had one great advantage; the page's sword, which Aubry had taken, was six inches shorter than the viscount's; this was no great disadvantage in defensive work, but became a serious matter when he wished to assume the offensive. Furthermore, Marmagne was six inches taller than the student, and being armed with a sword as much longer he had simply to present the point at his face to keep him at a distance, while Jacques cut and thrust and feinted to no purpose. Marmagne, without retreating a step, got out of reach simply by drawing his right leg back beside the left. The consequence was that, despite Aubry's agility, the viscount's long sword grazed his chest several times, while he could succeed in cutting nothing more substantial than the air, try as hard as he would.
Aubry realized that he was lost if he continued to play the same game, but in order to give his opponent no idea of the plan he proposed to adopt, he continued to thrust and parry in the ordinary way, gaining ground imperceptibly inch by inch; when he thought he was sufficiently near he allowed himself to be caught off guard as if through awkwardness. Marmagne, seeing an opening, made a lunge, but Aubry was ready for him; he parried the blow, and, taking advantage of the position of his opponent's sword, two inches above his head, darted under it, leaped upon him, and thrust as he leaped, so cleverly and so vigorously that the page's short sword disappeared up to the hilt in the viscount's breast.
Marmagne uttered one of those shrill cries, which indicate a severe wound; his hand fell to his side, the blood left his cheeks, and he fell headlong to the ground.
At that moment the patrol came running up, attracted by Marmagne's shrieks, the gestures of the page, and the sight of the crowd in front of the door. As Aubry still held his bloody sword in his hand, they arrested him.
Aubry undertook at first to make some resistance; but as the leader of the patrol shouted, "Disarm the villain and take him to the Châtelet," he gave up his sword, and followed the guards to the prison to which he was so anxious to gain admission, marvelling at the merciful decrees of Providence, which accorded him at the same time the two things he most desired,—vengeance upon Marmagne, and access to Ascanio.
This time no objection was made to his reception within the walls of the royal fortress; but as it seemed that it was at the moment somewhat overburdened with guests, there was a long discussion between the jailer and the warden of the prison, as to where the new comer should be lodged. At last the two worthies seemed to agree upon the point; the jailer motioned to Aubry to follow him, led him down thirty-two steps, opened a door, pushed him into a very dark dungeon, and closed the door behind him.