The Red Cockade

"And I fear that we shall hear of others. I think that we must look matters in the face, M. le Vicomte."

"It is not a question of thinking or looking, but of doing!" the Captain said, interrupting him harshly. "We have a long summer's day before us, but if by to-night we have not done something, there will be a sorry dawning in Quercy to-morrow."

"There are the King's troops," I said.

"They refuse to obey orders. Therefore, they are worse than useless."

"Their officers?"

"They are staunch; but the people hate them. A knight of St. Louis is to the mob what a red rag is to a bull. I can answer for it that they have enough to do to keep their men in barracks, and guard their own heads."

I resented his familiarity, and the impatience with which he spoke; but, resent it as I might, I could not return to the tone I had used yesterday. Then it had seemed an outrageous thing that Buton should stand by and listen. To-day the same thing had an ordinary air. And this, moreover, was a different man from Doury; arguments that had crushed the one would have no weight with the other. I saw that, and, rather helplessly, I asked Father Benôit what he would have.

He did not answer. It was the Captain who replied. "We want you to join the Committee," he said briskly.

"I discussed that yesterday," I answered with some stiffness. "I cannot do so. Father Benôit will tell you so."

"It is not Father Benôit's answer I want," the Captain replied. "It is yours, M. le Vicomte."

"I answered yesterday," I said haughtily-"and refused."

"Yesterday is not to-day," he retorted. "M. de St. Alais' house stood yesterday; it is a smoking ruin today. M. de Marignac's likewise. Yesterday much was conjecture. To-day facts speak for themselves. A few hours' hesitation, and the province will be in a blaze from one end to the other."

I could not gainsay this; at the same time there was one other thing I could not do, and that was change my views again. Having solemnly put on the white cockade in Madame St. Alais' drawing-room, I had not the courage to execute another volte-face. I could not recant again.

"It is impossible-impossible in my case," I stammered at last peevishly, and in a disjointed way. "Why do you come again to me? Why do you not go to some one else? There are two hundred others whose names-"

"Would be of no use to us," M. le Capitaine answered brusquely; "whereas yours would reassure the fearful, attach some moderate men to the cause and not disgust the masses. Let me be frank with you, M. le Vicomte," he continued in a different tone. "I want your co-operation. I am here to take risks, but none that are unnecessary; and I prefer that my commission should issue from above as well as from below. Add your name to the Committee and I accept their commission. Without doubt I could police Quercy in the name of the Third Estate, but I would rather hang, draw, and quarter in the name of all three."

"Still, there are others-"

"You forget that I have got to rule the canaille in Cahors," he answered impatiently, "as well as these mad clowns, who think that the end of the world is here. And those others you speak of-"

"Are not acceptable," Father Benôit said gently, looking at me with yearning in his kind eyes. The light morning air caught the skirts of his cassock as he spoke, and lifted them from his lean figure. He held his shovel hat in his hand, between his face and the sun. I knew that there was a conflict in his mind as in mine, and that he would have me and would have me not; and the knowledge strengthened me to resist his words.

"It is impossible," I said.

"Why?"

I was spared the necessity of answering. I had my face to the door of the house, and as the last word was spoken saw André issue from it with M. de St. Alais. The manner in which the old servant cried, "M. le Marquis de St. Alais, to see M. le Vicomte!" gave us a little shock, it was so full of sly triumph; but nothing on M. de St. Alais' part, as he approached, betrayed that he noticed this. He advanced with an air perfectly gay, and saluted me with good humour. For a moment I fancied that he did not know what had happened in the night; his first words, however, dispelled the idea.

"M. le Vicomte," he said, addressing me with both ease and grace, "we are for ever grateful to you. I was abroad on business last night, and could do nothing; and my brother must, I am told, have come too late, even if, with so small a force, he could effect anything. I saw Mademoiselle as I passed through the house, and she gave me some particulars."

"She has left her room?" I cried in surprise. The other three had drawn back a little, so that we enjoyed a kind of privacy.

"Yes," he answered, smiling slightly at my tone. "And I can assure you, M. le Vicomte, has spoken as highly of you as a maiden dare. For the rest, my mother will convey the thanks of the family to you more fitly than I can. Still, I may hope that you are none the worse."

I muttered that I was not; but I hardly knew what I said. St. Alais' demeanour was so different from that which I had anticipated, his easy calmness and gaiety were so unlike the rage and heat which seemed natural in one who had just heard of the destruction of his house and the murder of his steward, that I was completely nonplussed. He appeared to be dressed with his usual care and distinction, though I was bound to suppose that he had been up all night; and, though the outrages at St. Alais and Marignac's had given the lie to his most confident predictions, he betrayed no sign of vexation.

All this dazzled and confused me; yet I must say something. I muttered a hope that Mademoiselle was not greatly shaken by her experiences.

"I think not," he said. "We St. Alais are not made of sugar. And after a night's rest- But I fear that I am interrupting you?" And for the first time he let his eyes rest on my companions.

"It is to Father Benôit and to Buton here, that your thanks are really due, M. le Marquis," I said. "For without their aid-"

"That is so, is it?" he said coldly. "I had heard it."

"But not all?" I exclaimed.

"I think so," he said. Then, continuing to look at them, though he spoke to me, he continued: "Let me tell you an apologue, M. le Vicomte. Once upon a time there was a man who had a grudge against a neighbour because the good man's crops were better than his. He went, therefore, secretly and by night, and not all at once-not all at once, Messieurs, but little by little-he let on to his neighbour's land the stream of a river that flowed by both their farms. He succeeded so well that presently the flood not only covered the crops, but threatened to drown his neighbour, and after that his own crops and himself! Apprised too late of his folly- But how do you like the apologue, M. le Curé?"

"It does not touch me," Father Benôit answered with a wan smile.

"I am no man's servant, as the slave boasted," St. Alais answered with a polite sneer.

"For shame! for shame, M. le Marquis!" I cried, losing patience. "I have told you that but for M. le Curé and the smith here, Mademoiselle and I-"

"And I have told you," he answered, interrupting me with grim good humour, "what I think of it, M. le Vicomte! That is all."

"But you do not know what happened?" I persisted, stung to wrath by his injustice. "You are not, you cannot be, aware that when Father Benôit and his companions arrived, Mademoiselle de St. Alais and I were in the most desperate plight? that they saved us only at great risk to themselves? and that for our safety at last you have to thank rather the tricolour, which those wretches respected, than any display of force which we were able to make."

"That, too, is so, is it?" he said, his face grown dark. "I shall have something to say to it presently. But, first, may I ask you a question, M. le Vicomte? Am I right in supposing that these gentlemen are waiting on you from-pardon me if I do not get the title correctly-the Honourable the Committee of Public Safety?"

I nodded.

"And I presume that I may congratulate them on your answer?"

"No, you may not!" I replied, with satisfaction. "This gentleman" – and I pointed to the Capitaine Hugues-"has laid before me certain proposals and certain arguments in favour of them."

"But he has not laid before you the most potent of all arguments," the Captain said, interposing, with a dry bow. "I find it, and you, M. le Vicomte, will find it, too, in M. le Marquis de St. Alais!"

The Marquis stared at him coldly. "I am obliged to you," he said contemptuously. "By-and-by, perhaps, I shall have more to say to you. For the present, however, I am speaking to M. le Vicomte." And he turned and addressed me again. "These gentlemen have waited on you. Do I understand that you have declined their proposals?"

"Absolutely!" I answered. "But," I continued warmly, "it does not follow that I am without gratitude or natural feeling."

"Ah!" he said. Then, turning, with an easy air, "I see your servant there," he said. "May I summon him one moment?"

"Certainly."

He raised his hand, and André, who was watching us from the doorway, flew to take his orders.

He turned to me again. "Have I your permission?"

I bowed, wondering.

"Go, my friend, to Mademoiselle de St. Alais," he said. "She is in the hall. Beg her to be so good as to honour us with her presence."

André went, with his most pompous air; and we remained, wondering. No one spoke. I longed to consult Father Benôit by a look, but I dared not do so, lest the Marquis, who kept his eyes on my face, his own wearing an enigmatical smile, should take it for a sign of weakness. So we stood until Mademoiselle appeared in the doorway, and, after a momentary pause, came timidly along the terrace towards us.