The Bright Face of Danger. Robert Neilson Stephens

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СКАЧАТЬ good counsel, thought I, and worth bearing in mind. It was true, my very journey itself was, as to its foolhardy purpose, a violation of the first maxim. But that could not be helped now, and I could at least heed that piece of advice, as well as the others, in the details of my mission. When I thought of that mission, I felt both foolish and heavy-hearted. I had not the faintest idea yet of how I should go about encountering Brignan de Brignan and getting into a quarrel with him, and I had great misgivings as to how I should be able to conduct myself in that quarrel, and as to its outcome. Certainly no man ever took the road on a more incredible, frivolous quest. Of all the people travelling my way, that June morning, T was probably one of the most thoughtful and judiciously-minded; yet of every one but myself the business in being abroad was sober and reasonable, while mine was utterly ridiculous and silly. And the girl whose banter had driven me to it—perhaps she had attached no seriousness whatever to my petulant vow and had even now forgotten it. With these reflections were mingled the pangs of parting from my home and family; and for a time I was downcast and sad.

      But the day was fine. Presently my thoughts, which at first had flown back to all I had left behind, began to concern themselves with the scenes around me; then they flew ahead to the place whither I was bound:—this is usually the way on journeys. At least, thought I, I should see life, and perchance meet dangers, and so far be the gainer. And who knows but I might even come with credit out of the affair with Monsieur de Brignan?—it is a world of strange turnings, and the upshot is always more or less different from what has been predicted. So I took heart, and already I began to feel I was not exactly the pale scholar of yesterday. It was something to be my own master, on horseback and well-armed, my eyes ranging the wide and open country, green and brown in the sunlight, dotted here and there with trees, sometimes traversed by a stream, and often backed by woods of darker green, which seemed to hold secrets dangerous and luring.

      Riding gave me a great appetite, and I was fortunate in coming upon an inn at Durtal whose table was worthy of my capacity. After dinner, we took the road again and proceeded at an easy pace toward La Flèche.

      Toward the middle of the afternoon a vague uneasiness stole over me, as if some tragic circumstance lay waiting on the path—to me unknown—ahead.

CHAPTER II.

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A YOUNG MAN WHO WENT SINGING

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      It was about five o'clock when we rode into La Flèche, and the feeling of ill foreboding still possessed me. Partly considering this, and partly as it was improbable I should find the best accommodations anywhere else short of Le Mans, I decided to put up here for the night. As I rode into the central square of the town, I saw an inn there: it had a prosperous and honest look, so I said, "This is the place for my money," and made for it. The square was empty and silent when I entered it, but just as I reached the archway of the inn, I heard a voice singing, whereupon I looked around and saw a young man riding into the square from another street than that I had come from. He was followed by a servant on horseback, and was bound for the same inn. It seems strange in the telling, that a gentleman should ride singing into a public square, as if he were a mountebank or street-singer, yet it appeared quite natural as this young fellow did it. The song was something about brave soldiers and the smiles of ladies—just such a gay song as so handsome a young cavalier ought to sing. I looked at him a moment, then rode on into the inn-yard. This little act, done in all thoughtlessness, and with perfect right, was the cause of momentous things in my life. If I had waited to greet that young gentleman at the archway, I believe my history would have gone very differently. As it was, I am convinced that my carelessly dropping him from my regard, as if he were a person of no interest, was the beginning of what grew between us. For, as he rode in while I was dismounting, he threw at me a look of resentment for which there was nothing to account but the possible wound to his vanity. His countenance, symmetrically and somewhat boldly formed, showed great self-esteem and a fondness for attention. His singing had suddenly stopped. I could feel his anger, which was probably the greater for having no real cause, I having been under no obligation to notice him or offer him precedence.

      He called loudly for an ostler, and, when one came out of the stables, he coolly gave his orders without waiting for me, though I had been first in the yard. He bade his own servant see their horses well fed, and then made for the inn-door, casting a scornful glance at me, and resuming his song in a lower voice. It was now my turn to be angry, and justly, but I kept silence. I knew not exactly how to take this sort of demonstration: whether it was a usual thing among travellers and to be paid back only in kind, or whether for the sake of my reputation I ought to treat it as a serious affront. It is, of course, childish to take offence at a trifle. In my ignorance of what the world expects of a man upon receipt of hostile and disparaging looks, I could only act as one always must who cannot make up his mind—do nothing. After seeing my horse and mule attended to, I bade Nicolas follow with the baggage, and entered the inn.

      The landlord was talking with my young singing gentleman, but made to approach me as I came in. The young gentleman, however, speaking in a peremptory manner, detained him with questions about the roads, the town of La Flèche, and such matters. As I advanced, the young gentleman got between me and the host, and continued his talk. I waited awkwardly enough for the landlord's attention, and began to feel hot within. A wench now placed on a table some wine that the young man had ordered, and the landlord finally got rid of him by directing his attention to it. As he went to sit down, he bestowed on me the faintest smile of ridicule. I was too busy to think much of it at the moment, in ordering a room for the night and sending Nicolas thither with my bag. I then called for supper and sat down as far as possible from the other guest. He and I were the only occupants of the room, but from the kitchen adjoining came the noise of a number of the commonalty at food and drink.

      "Always politeness," thought I, when my wine had come, and so, in spite of his rudeness and his own neglect of the courtesy, as I raised my glass I said to him, "Your health, Monsieur."

      He turned red at the reproach implied in my observance, then very reluctantly lifted his own glass and said, "And yours," in a surly, grudging manner.

      "It has been a pleasant day," I went on, resolved not to be churlish, at all hazards.

      "Do you think so?" he replied contemptuously, and then turned to look out of the window, and hummed the tune he had been singing before.

      I thought if such were the companions my journey was to throw me in with, it would be a sorry time till I got home again. But my young gentleman, for all his temporary sullenness, was really of a talkative nature, as these vain young fellows are apt to be, and when he had warmed himself a little with wine even his dislike of me could not restrain his tongue any longer.

      "You are staying here to-night, then?" he suddenly asked.

      "Yes, and you?"

      "I shall ride on after supper. There will be starlight."

      "I have used my horse enough to-day."

      "And I mine, for that matter. But there are times when horses can't be considered."

      "You are travelling on important business, then?"

      "On business of haste. I must put ground behind me."

      "I drink to the success of your business, then."

      "Thank you, I am always successful. СКАЧАТЬ