Later in the day, some Catholics were killed by the mob. But their deaths as far as could be learned afterwards were due to private feuds. Save in such cases--and they were few--the cry of VIVE LA MESSE! always obtained at least a respite: more easily of course in the earlier hours of the morning when the mob were scarce at ease in their liberty to kill, while killing still seemed murder, and men were not yet drunk with bloodshed.
I read the hesitation of the gang in their faces: and when one asked roughly who we were, I replied with greater boldness, "I am M. Anne de Caylus, nephew to the Vicomte de Caylus, Governor, under the King, of Bayonne and the Landes!" This I said with what majesty I could. "And these" I continued--"are my brothers.
You will harm us at your peril, gentlemen. The Vicomte, believe me, will avenge every hair of our heads."I can shut my eyes now and see the stupid wonder, the baulked ferocity of those gaping faces. Dull and savage as the men were they were impressed; they saw reason indeed, and all seemed going well for us when some one in the rear shouted, "Cursed whelps!
Throw them over!"
I looked swiftly in the direction whence the voice came--the darkest corner of the room the corner by the shuttered window. Ithought I made out a slender figure, cloaked and masked--a woman's it might be but I could not be certain and beside it a couple of sturdy fellows, who kept apart from the herd and well behind their fugleman.
The speaker's courage arose no doubt from his position at the back of the room, for the foremost of the assailants seemed less determined. We were only three, and we must have gone down, barricade and all, before a rush. But three are three. And an arquebuse--Croisette's match burned splendidly--well loaded with slugs is an ugly weapon at five paces, and makes nasty wounds, besides scattering its charge famously. This, a good many of them and the leaders in particular, seemed to recognise. We might certainly take two or three lives: and life is valuable to its owner when plunder is afoot. Besides most of them had common sense enough to remember that there were scores of Huguenots --genuine heretics--to be robbed for the killing, so why go out of the way, they reasoned, to cut a Catholic throat, and perhaps get into trouble. Why risk Montfaucon for a whim? and offend a man of influence like the Vicomte de Caylus, for nothing!
Unfortunately at this crisis their original design was recalled to their minds by the same voice behind, crying out, "Pavannes!
Where is Pavannes?"
"Ay!" shouted the butcher, grasping the idea, and at the same time spitting on his hands and taking a fresh grip of the axe, "Show us the heretic dog, and go! Let us at him.""M. de Pavannes," I said coolly--but I could not take my eyes off the shining blade of that man's axe, it was so very broad and sharp--"is not here!""That is a lie! He is in that room behind you!" the prudent gentleman in the background called out. "Give him up!""Ay, give him up!" echoed the man of the pole-axe almost good humouredly, "or it will be the worse for you. Let us have at him and get you gone!"This with an air of much reason, while a growl as of a chained beast ran through the crowd, mingled with cries of "A MORT LESHUGUENOTS! VIVE LORRAINE!"--cries which seemed to show that all did not approve of the indulgence offered us.
"Beware, gentlemen, beware," I urged, "I swear he is not here! Iswear it, do you hear?"
A howl of impatience and then a sudden movement of the crowd as though the rush were coming warned me to temporize no longer.
"Stay! Stay!" I added hastily. "One minute! Hear me! You are too many for us. Will you swear to let us go safe and untouched, if we give you passage?"A dozen voices shrieked assent. But I looked at the butcher only. He seemed to be an honest man, out of his profession.
"Ay, I swear it!" he cried with a nod.
"By the Mass?"
"By the Mass."
I twitched Croisette's sleeve, and he tore the fuse from his weapon, and flung the gun--too heavy to be of use to us longer--to the ground. It was done in a moment. While the mob swept over the barricade, and smashed the rich furniture of it in wanton malice, we filed aside, and nimbly slipped under it one by one. Then we hurried in single file to the end of the room, no one taking much notice of us. All were pressing on, intent on their prey. We gained the door as the butcher struck his first blow on that which we had guarded--on that which we had given up.
We sprang down the stairs with bounding hearts, heard as we reached the outer door the roar of many voices, but stayed not to look behind--paused indeed for nothing. Fear, to speak candidly, lent us wings. In three seconds we had leapt the prostrate gates, and were in the street. A cripple, two or three dogs, a knot of women looking timidly yet curiously in, a horse tethered to the staple--we saw nothing else. No one stayed us. No one raised a hand, and in another minute we had turned a corner, and were out of sight of the house.
"They will take a gentleman's word another time," I said with a quiet smile as I put up my sword.
"I would like to see her face at this moment,' Croisette replied.
"You saw Madame d'O?"
I shook my head, not answering. I was not sure, and I had a queer, sickening dread of the subject. If I had seen her, I had seen oh! it was too horrible, too unnatural! Her own sister!
Her own brother in-law!
I hastened to change the subject. "The Pavannes," I made shift to say, "must have had five minutes' start.""More," Croisette answered, "if Madame and he got away at once.
