The black wolf's breed : $b A story of France in the Old world and the New, happening in the reign of Louis XIVDickson, Harris
History
The black wolf's breed : $b A story of France in the Old world and the New, happening in the reign of Louis XIV
Dickson, Harris
France -- History -- Louis XIV, 1643-1715 -- Fiction
"But one other thing, my lad," he stopped me as I would go, "you must
need have other garb than that. Your harness of the wilderness but ill
befits a gay gallant in Paris--for such you must now appear. You visit
the capital to see the sights, understand; a country gentleman--Greville
will instruct you, the rascal has naturally a turn for intrigue and
masquerading. A dress like yours would mark you apart from the throng
and perchance draw upon you the scathe of idle tongue. Here is gold to
array yourself as becomes a well-to-do gentleman, and gold to spend at
wine and on the games withal--for, thank Providence, the ancient House of
Lemoyne is not yet bankrupt."
I fain would not take his proffered coins, but he urged them upon me with
such insistency that I, seeing the good sense of doing as I was bid,
placed them in my meager purse, and with a light heart I set out upon my
doubtful journey.
The fear of which I spoke died away, for since our success with the King,
my spirits rose, and I deemed all things possible. Besides, was I not in
the personal service of my beloved commander who never knew a fear?
* * * * * *
The postilion whipped up his horses, and we turned towards the old city
of Paris, that treasure-house of varied fortunes whence every man might
draw his lot--of poverty or riches, of fame or obscurity, of happiness or
misery--as chance and strength directs.
CHAPTER VII
AT THE AUSTRIAN ARMS
It was well into the night when the first dim lights of Paris came into
view, and perhaps some two good hours afterwards before we drew up in
front of the "Austrian Arms."
It was not a new or prepossessing place, yet much better than those I
had seen along the road from Dieppe.
The host well deserved Serigny's appellation of a churl, for he looked
suspiciously at me, and when I asked for de Greville replied he knew
nothing of him. I could get no satisfaction from him, so I determined
to take up my abode and wait. In I went and heeded not the surly host
who regarded me askance.
The small public room was vacant, and I possessed myself of it with the
settled air of a man who has come to stay. Verily the fire felt most
grateful, and it did me much comfort to stretch as I listed, after the
tedious confinement of the coach. Mine host busied himself about
mending the fire, but whenever I raised my eyes I caught his gaze fixed
doubtingly upon me. Evidently the man knew more than he told, and I
planned to test his loyalty.
"Here, my good man," I called to him, "dost know anything of this
Jerome de Greville? Where is he?"
"By our Lady, noble sir, I know him not. Paris is a great city, and
many noble gentlemen come and go at their will."
"But M. de Greville lodges with you, I am told. My business is urgent."
"I do not recall such a name? Jerome de Greville?" and the rascal
turned his eyes to the ceiling in the attitude of deep contemplation.
I smiled inwardly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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