France -- History -- Louis XIII, 1610-1643 -- Fiction
finding plenty of dupes; and next to him a man with a monkey, whose
funny tricks caused much merriment. Suddenly a great tumult arose near
the other end of the bridge, and in a moment a compact crowd had
gathered around four men, who, with loud cries and imprecations, were
fighting with swords—apparently with great fury, though in reality it
was only a mock combat, probably intended to give a good chance to the
thieves and pickpockets in the throng, with whom they were in league;
such tactics being very common, as well as successful. By Hérode’s
advice, de Sigognac refrained from mingling with the crowd immediately
around the combatants, so he could not get a very good view of them;
but he was almost sure that they were the very men he had met first in
the streets of Poitiers, to their great discomfiture, and had seen
again the previous night at the hotel in the Rue Dauphine, where they
certainly had gained no advantage to make up for their former defeat.
He communicated his suspicions to the tyrant, but the rascals had
already slipped away, and it would have been as useless to attempt to
find them in the throng as to look for a needle in a haystack.
“It certainly is possible,” said Hérode, thoughtfully, “that this
quarrel was gotten up with a view to involving you in it, by some means
or other, for we are undoubtedly followed and watched by the emissaries
of the Duke of Vallombreuse. One of the scoundrels might have made
believe that you were in the way, or that you had struck him, and
falling upon you suddenly, before you had time to draw your sword, have
given you a thrust that would have done for you; and if he failed to
wound you mortally; the others could have pretended to come to their
comrade’s aid, and have completed the job—nothing would have been
easier. Then they would have separated, and slipped away through the
crowd, before any one could interfere with them, or else have stood
their ground, and declared unanimously that they had been obliged to
attack you in self defence. It is next to impossible in such cases to
prove that the act was premeditated, and there is no redress for the
unhappy victim of such a conspiracy.”
“But I am loath to believe,” said the brave, generous young baron,
“that any gentleman could be capable of such an utterly base and
unworthy act as this—what, send a set of hired ruffians to foully
assassinate his rival! If he is not satisfied with the result of our
first encounter, I am willing and ready to cross swords with him again
and again, until one or the other of us is slain. That is the way that
such matters are arranged among men of honour, my good Hérode!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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