France -- History -- Henry II, 1547-1559 -- Fiction; Montgomery, Gabriel, comte de, 1530-1574 -- Fiction
Arnauld turned hurriedly about toward the man, who, despite his very
marked English accent, seemed thus familiar with the niceties of the
French tongue.
He was a great fellow, with a pale face and sandy hair, who had the
appearance of being a sharp trader and a stupid man. Arnauld du Thill
recognized an Englishman at the first glance.
"What can I do for you?" he asked.
"I make you my prisoner; that's what you can do for me," replied the
man, who embellished his discourse with English slang, which Arnauld
tried hard to imitate, so as to make himself more intelligible to his
interlocutor.
"Why do you make me your prisoner rather than another?" he
continued?--"rather than that weaver over there, for instance?"
"Because you are fitted out better than the weaver," was the
Englishman's reply.
"Oh, yes!" Arnauld retorted. "And by what right, please, do you arrest
me?--you who are only a simple archer, I think."
"Oh, I am not acting on my own account, but in the name of my master,
Lord Grey, who commands the English archers, and to whom Duke Philibert
Emmanuel has allotted, as his share in the prize, three prisoners,--two
noblemen and one bourgeois,--with whatever ransom he may be able to get
for them. Now, my master, who knows that I have two hands and a pair of
eyes, instructed me to follow the chase and ferret out three prisoners
of value for him. You are the best game I have fallen in with yet; so I
take you by the collar, Messire Bourgeois."
"It is a great honor for a poor squire," retorted Arnauld, modestly.
"Will your master feed me well, do you think?"
"Blackguard! Do you suppose he proposes to feed you for long?" said the
archer.
"Until it pleases him to set me at liberty, I imagine that he surely
will not let me die of hunger."
"Hm!" said the archer. "Can it be that I have taken a poor old naked
wolf for a fox with a magnificent pelt?"
"I am afraid so, my lord archer," said Arnauld; "and if Lord Grey, your
master, has promised you a commission according to the value of the
prizes you obtain for him, I fear that twenty or thirty blows with a
club will be the only benefit you will derive from me. What I say is not
for the purpose of deceiving you, and I advise you to try it."
"You rascal! It may well be that you are right!" rejoined the
Englishman, examining the sly fellow more closely; "and I may lose with
you what Lord Grey promised to give me,--one livre in every hundred that
he realizes from his prisoners."
"This is the man for me," thought Arnauld. "Hallo, then," said he,
aloud, "my hostile friend, if I put you in a way to lay your hand on a
very rich prize,--on a prisoner worth ten thousand Tours livres, for
instance,--would you be the man to show some little gratitude to me?"
"Ten thousand Tours livres!" cried the Englishman. "Prisoners of that
sort are pretty scarce. Why, I should get a hundred livres then,--not a
bad nest-egg."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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