The Sword of a Gascon

Auckland Star, Issue 66, 19 March 1900, Page 6

The Sword of a Gascon

AN HISTORICAL ROMANCE.

By AMEDEE ACHARD.

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS.! CHAPTER I.—The-Count Gedeon Paul' de Montestruc spuanders the last of his valuable inheritance at the gaming table at Lectoure, leaving a young wife and his , heir, who is about 10 years old, destitute. CHAPTER ll.—While her husband was: having his final fling at the gaming table, j the Countess, who' all her married life has been practically deserted, in a scene at the castle, learns that her lover, Count Jean de Coligny, is returning to Paris hy order of the King. CHAPTER lll.—The ruined Count de Montestruc, determined to end his worthless life like a gentleman, and in a man-, ncr that will provide for his widow and, heir, offers the old Duke de Mirepoix; _, to avenge his daughter, who has been j ruined by a plundering exile, the Baron; Saccaraux. The Duke accepts the offer, j and the Count finding the Baron, succeeds in killing him, but at the cost of his own life. _ CHAPTER IV.—The death of the Count and the arrival of his body at the castle correspond almost exactly with the parting meeting of the Countess a/nd Coligny. The Countess, with the young Duke, on finding that the estates are really the property of money lenders, journeys with her son to the Duke of Mirepoix. CHAPTER V.—The Duke provides her ■with a home. The early education of the young Count is very largely in the direction of making him a good swordsman, and one very unpleasant outcome of this is an early encounter with an adventurer named Briqttetaille.

CHAPTER VI. (Continued)

At certain epochs of the year which answered to the day of his fete and the anniversary of his birth, Hugues had permission to take his friends and entertain them at some inn, after having beaten the country. There was then, at a nearby village, a hostelry where people congregated at the time of the fairs, and •whose reputation rivalled that of the Golden Fish of St. Jean. Hugues chose then the inn of the Red Fox for diverting himself there with his friends, and commanded a good dinner, proudly rattling some pieces which Agrippa had slipped into his pocket. While the pots were being ranged upon the stove and the cover was being laid, he ran over the village, picking the most beautiful grapes of the vine arbours and the most beautiful fruits of the espaliers. The Marquis of St, Ellix came up about this time with his pack and his huntsmen. Two or three friends accompanied him, making a great noise. A young equerry of good appearance, whose skin was the colour of walnut, face sad and haughty, and the body enveloped in a garment of white wool, leaped from the saddle, and, taking the marquis' horse by the bridle, aided him to dismount. Scarcely within the inn, still followed by his friends and the equerry. "Hello! dinner! and quickly!" cried the marquis, striking with the handle of his whip upon the table. "And you, Kadour, in spite of the horror with -which you are inspired by the laws of the Prophet against the juice of the grape, go make a tour of the cellar, and bring us back an ample provision of those good old bottles which the landlord, who is posted in such matters, conceals behind the fagots." The Arab, making no reply, walked slowly away. The marquis then perceived that a table-cloth was already spread with a beautiful row of plates around the table. A girl with bare arms was bringing in a soup-tureen, from which escaped an appetizing odour. "Zounds!" said the marquis, "our orders are filled as if by enchantment, and we shall not have to wait." And he sat down, extending his glass to have it filled. The servant girl remained somewhat stupefied, but having received a kiss npon htfr cheek and a crown in her hand, laughingly ran away. "My faith, it concerns them, and let them arrange it! said she. Hugues returned, and perceiving the guests around the table which was destined for him, politely protested. "Pass on your way, my honest man," replied St. Ellix without seeing him. "God! the marquis!" said Coquelieot, to whom the accent of this voice gave a shiver. But Hugues Insisted with more force. He had commanded the dinner, he had paid for it; the dinner was his. The marquis turned round and recognised him. "Behold!" said he, eyeing him, 'the rabbit poacher." 'We are lost!" murmured Coquelieot. Meanwhile the marquis, filling his glass: "It is fortunate that you arrive at a moment when good cheer puts me in a fine humour. This dinner is very good. And in favour of the claret, I pardon you your insult of the other day. There, take a piece of bread, and fly!" Kadour, who had just returned, passed near Hugues, and in a low voice, .without looking at him: "You are the weaker, be .silent — silence is golden." But Hugues did not hear this whisper; he began to grow warm. Vainly Coquelieot pulled him by the sleeve; he pushed straight on to the table, and striking with the flat of his hand upon the cloth:

"All that -which is on this table belongs to me. I wish it and I shall have it."

For the once the marquis' anger burst forth. In his turn he brought his fist down upon the table, and in such a terrible fashion that the glasses and plates rattled. Then rising:

"Ah! you wish me to recollect what you did to me one evening near a ■wood? Well, so be it. You are going to pay for yesterday and today." "Take care now," murmured Coquelieot who, at all hazards, tucked up his sleeves.

The marquis had just made a sign to two of his men who pounced upon Hugues. But the young fellow was more robust than they supposed, and in a turn of the hand the two lackeys iwere on the floor.

Kadour approached St. Ellix.

"Does my master wish me to speak to this man," said he. "He is young like me, and perhaps "

"Leave me alone or I shall knock you down, vile miscreant," exclaimed .he marquis. And turning to his seryants, face on fire: "Lay hold of him, dead or alive!" The huntsmen rushed upon Hugues; Coqiielicot and some of his comrades flew to his aid; the men who had fol-

' lowed St. Eliix's friends threw them- j selves into the affray. In the middle of i the hall and among the chairs over- I thrown, the blows rained thick as ;■ hail. Hugues' friends, who were j younger than he, got out of the way as best they could; Coquelieot, wounded and bruised, was extended inanimate upon the floor. Hugues was forced to give way to numbers, and fell. He was tied with ropes and laid upon a bench. ! "It is mj' turn,'' said St. Ellix; "a i vicious rascal like you deserves to be corrected. You .are going to be whip- : ped like a dog. and with switches." j "Me!" cried Hugues. He made a desperate effort to break the bonds which held him. "No use." said the marquis; "those j cords will enter your flesh before , breaking." 11l fact, red lines were visible around ; the prisoner's wrists; his hands had ! become blue. I Meanwhile, the clothing which j j covered the upper part of his body | ! had been snatched from him; leather j straps, wrapped around his legs and j shoulders, held solidly to the bench j upon which he was extended flat upon j his stomach. Already a huntsman bad taken in j his hand'a stout switch of flexible and j tough osier, which he made turn and I whistle around his head. "Strike!" cried the marquis . j

A hollow groan, snatched by anger more than by grief, answered the first stroke. At the third, Hugues fainted.

"Enough!" said St. Ellix. He had them to untie the leather straps and cords which imprisoned Hugues' limbs, and having had a potful of water thrown in his face to reanimate him: .. 'You see how scholars are punished,

said he

"Sir." said Hugues, who fixed upon him his eves injected with blood, "you were wrong not to kill me, for I shall avenge myself." "Try it!" replied St. Ellix. disdainfully sitting down at the table again. Hugues took his way to La Teslere in a state bordering on madness. His arteries beat, his temper throbbed, his brain buzzed. He asked himself if all this was true—this encounter, this struggle, this exchange of words, these switches. Then he shivered, and cries of fury mounted to his lips. Coquelieot followed close behind. Just as Ungues had passed the last houses of-the village, he heard behind him the footsteps of a man running. He turned back, and recognised the Arab wdiose white burnous floated m the wind, and who was at his side in a moment. Placing then his hand upon the shoulder of the conquered: "You have had courage, said Kadour. "have patience. Patience is the worm which'gnaws the root of the oak; it is the drop of water which hollows out of the rock." His hand quitted Hugues shoulder, and the Arab moved away, draped m the folds of his burnous. Immediately on his arrival at La Testere Hugues ran to his mother s apartment, and there he related to her what had taken place at the Red Fox. Madame Montestruc became paI*'. She seized Hugues by the hand. _ "You will avenge yourself? said

she. "Ah! yes, I swear it. "Do not swear. I read it in your eyes—but wait." '"Wait—when there are ten swords up there, without speaking ot the one suspended at my bedside, and which has stains on it up to the guard: "Wait. I tell you; vengeance is p*ii*6H cold. The countess, who had placed her hand upon her son's head, reflected amoment. "Meditate on your vengeance, piepare your means-leave nothing to chance-think only of conquering. But vvhen the hour shall have come when yon shall have the certainty of being able to hold him under your feet, then bound and strike." Hugues had suddenly grown calm "you will be pleased, my mothei said he; "I shall wait and I shall strike."

CHAPTER VII. COMEDY AND TRAGEDY. The next day, one might have believed that Count Hugues haforgot ten the adventure of the Red __ ox _mi He never spoke of it, not even to Coquelieot. When one of the witnesses otTh s play made some allusion to it Hu-ues seemed not to hear it 01 Vhanled the subject of conversation. Meanwhile, he had confided his plans and his-resentment to , They were often seen togethei in the hall where there was a numerous Election of arms ot every kind. Coquelieot, who accompanied them there was astonished at the persistency which they displayed in fencing; but he was so accustomed to do what Hugues did, that in his turn he tooldown a sword and imitated him Fifteen or eighteen months almost had elapsed since the events of the Red Fox had taken taken place, when Hugues, who had lost no occasion to secretly learn all about the habits and life Of St. Ellix, informed one day those who had accompanied him to the village that he desired lo speak to them, and gathering them around him he said: "My friends, have you forgotten what happened at the Red Fox Inn, where we met the Marquis St. Ellix; "No, ccrtes!" they exclaimed on all sides at the same time. "Good! I recollect it every day and at every hour, and if I speak to you of it, it is to. know if you are disposed to recollect it with me. Then, if some oneproposed to you to return to the Marquis St. Ellix tooth for tooth, eye for eye, you would accept?"

A cry arose "All"' all!"

And will you leave the care of planning the affair to me who has suffered most from the insolence of this scurrilous marquis?"

"Yes! yes!" And to follow me everywhere I shall lead you?"

"Everywhere!" "Well, count upon me, as I count upon you." As he finished speaking a ropedancer passed along a neighbouring path, leading a bear by the chain. It would have been difficult to say which was the more wretched in appearance—the man or the beast; the one so ragged, and the other so lean. The poor wretch, seeing a troop of young people, raised his stick and made the bear dance. The bear danced sadly. The master, who taught him fine"manners, did not have a gay air. His hollow cheeks showed that he did not breakfast every morning, and that he did not dine every evening.

The heart of Coquelieot was touched by this pitiable spectacle, and, taking a hat, he started around among his comrades.

"For the poor man and for his companion," said he. Each one drew from his pocket what

he found there—some a sou, some a piece of bread. When the hat was full, Coquelieot emptied it into the rope-dancer's wallet, whose eyes swelled at the -ight of it. .Never had the poor dcvii ;een a similar feast. His lirst care, ..tier having thanked everybody, was to unmuzzle the beast, and to share with it a piece of bread which he had placed aside, and to which he added two or three apples. Two days after, Ungues, who had matured his plan, again united his band around him. •'The marquis has come to us." said he: "it is just that we should pay him back his visit. He ate our dinner at the lied Fox—does it please you for us to go and eat- Ms supper at his chateau of St. Savy." j "Yes! yes!" cried the troop. \ "Then," to-morrow morning, be ready at daybreak, and follow me." j All were punctual at the rendezvous! next day. Ungues passed them in review, and warned them that they were playing a dangerous game, which, might'result in the death of some one. "If any one of you does not feel that he has the courage to go to the end, let him withdraw. It is still time." No one budged. ' Quite sure then that not one of the ' soldiers whom he had collected would desert. , Hugties conducted them forthwith to an old ruined building, where |he showed them, concealed in a corner ! i the straw, heaps of strange clothing, ; with which lie asked them to cover themselves. Each one took what fell under his hand. Thus disguised with robes, caps, cossacks and cloaks of every shape and colour, this asseni- j Wage of young people had the appearance of a troop of mountebanks or gypsies telling fortunes. "Now," said Ungues, "seek in this other corner and slip under your j clothes the arms which you find there.' There \Vas at this spot, in fact, behind- old casks,, daggers, poniards, j and pistols in sufficient quantity for j each one. to choose there what suited him. In that same hiding place the young count's companions discovered with joy an extravagant collection of musical instruments. "Share among you the drums and trumpets," said Hugues to those who: surrounded him; "there is no need of i knowing anything about them in I order to make use of them; you will see that these little machines also have their usefulness." The chateau which the marquis inhabited at this moment was situated in a wild place in the neighbourhood : of St. Savy, and bore that name. They j took their course in that direction I with a deliberate step. On the way, j they were not little surprised to meet j the rope-dancer and his bear, who had j the air of waiting at the corner of a hedge. "Hold! Victor!" said some one of the band. The conspirators were still more surprised when they saw the bear and his proprietor fall in with them without breathing a word and marching at the same pace. "It is an idea of mine," caid Coquelieot with a modest air. When the conspirators reached the doors of the chateau, by order of its chief the whole band stopped, and, ranging themselves in single file, began to beat the drums, to blow (he trumpets and flageolets, to pick the mandolins and lutes Avith such a remarkable vigour, that, attracted by this infernal noise, all the servants rushed to the windows. At sight of the strange spectacle displayed before their eyes, these servants uttered cries of joy and could not resist the desire of seeing closer, things so singular. All started running to the stairways and doors, and in a moment the whole troop was outside. (To be continued.) THE TRUTH MUST BE SPOKEN. THE TRUTH MUST BE SPOKEN. WOMEN SUFFER FROM PILES MORE THAN MEN. THE DREjADFUL COMPI..VINT CAN BE CURED. BILE BEANS AGAIN TO THE RESCUE. There are more women suffering from piles in the Australian colonies than people imagine. The peculiar delicacy of the complaint causes women to suffer without divulging to their friends their malady; and hence it is that the public are ignorant of the extent of the disorder existing among the fairer sex. It is 'unwise for women j suffering from piles hot to confide in j some friend, because by doing so they Would often cause much needless suffering and agony. There are two dif-| fevent kinds of piles—the Bleeding j and Blind Piles—the latter being by far the most painful and most common in Australian women. Piles- is a most disagreeable and awkward complaint,.' inasmuch as the j malady is accompanied by excruciat- I ing itching, irritation and inflammation. The patient becomes irritable, despondent, recess, and the very features of the face get distorted. The constant pain brings about melancholia, and lack of ambition, a sour temper, and general discontent. As a rule the complaint brings constipation with it, yet in some" cases ; diarrhoea has been known to accompany the disorder. A more awkward j complaint cannot be conceived, and ; the sooner it is cured the better for j the peace of mind of the patient. It ] has been proved beyond doubt that j Bile Beans has arrested the complaint more than any other remedy, and : among other illustrations we give that of Mrs M. Webster, who lives in Fits.- j herbert-street, Petoni, Wellington, I N.Z. ! Mrs Webber informed our' represen- j tafive that for the past three months : she had been a constant sufferer of : Bleeding Piles. "I Quad," she sa.ilcl, I "tried almost every remedy, as well as doctors, but -without avail. At length I became disheartened, and was going to give up the idea of having them cured, when I was advised by a neighbour to try Bile Beans. I had frequent- j ]y heard Bile Beans spoken of as aj - sure remedy for piles, so I decided to give them a trial. I had only used four ov five boxes at present, and can candidly say that they have given me , more relief than any .other remedy I j have tried." j' Bile Beans will also be found an j undoubted sjpecific for biliousness, headache, indigestion, Debility, female ■ ailment, liver trouble, costiveness, that tired feeling, etc. Obtainable at all : chemists and storekeepers, or direct, I from (the Australian Depot, 39 Pitt-st., I. Sydney. Price, I3id per box, '