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Updated: May 29, 2025
"The one and the other, perhaps," he said more softly. "Though, after all, they appear to have had a very keen nose for a traitor. Come, Bardelys, confess yourself that." "I? A traitor?" He shrugged his shoulders, and laughed without any conspicuous mirth. "Is not a traitor one who runs counter to the wishes; of his King?
But that he should die ! Monsieur de Bardelys, you will save him! Say that you will do this for me!" She was on her knees to me now, her arms clasping my boots, her eyes raised in entreaty God, what entreaty! to my own. "Rise, mademoiselle, I beseech you," I said, with a quiet I was far from feeling. "There is no need for this. Let us be calm. The danger to your father is not so imminent.
"God forbid, Sire!" I answered quickly. "I do but pursue my destiny." He took a turn in silence, like a man who is mastering himself before he will speak. Many an eye, I knew, was upon us, and not a few may have been marvelling whether already Bardelys were about to share the fate that yesterday had overtaken his rival Chatellerault. At last he halted at my side again.
Men leapt on to their chairs, and, holding their glasses on high, they acclaimed me as thunderously as though I had been the hero of some noble exploit, instead of the main figure in a somewhat questionable wager. "Bardelys!" was the shout with which the house reechoed. "Bardelys! Bardelys the Magnificent! Vive Bardelys!"
Did I tell him that I was Bardelys, I was convinced that I should never leave the chateau alive. Very noble-hearted was the Vicomte, and no man have I known more averse to bloodthirstiness, but he had told me much during the days that I had lain abed, and many lives would be jeopardized did I proclaim what I had learned from him.
What if I were to tell him that I was not Lesperon no rebel at all, in fact but Marcel de Bardelys, the King's favourite? That he would account me a spy I hardly thought; but assuredly he would see that my life must be a danger to his own; he must fear betrayal from me; and to protect himself he would be justified in taking extreme measures.
He thought to impose his reputation upon Bardelys as he had imposed it upon a hundred others, but Bardelys was over-tough for his teeth. He sent that notorious young gentleman a challenge, and on the following morning he left him dead in the horsemarket behind the Hotel Vendome.
"Your successes, Bardelys, render you vain, and of vanity is presumption born," he replied contemptuously. "See!" I cried, appealing to the company. "Observe how he seeks to evade replying! Nay, but you shall confess your clumsiness." "A clumsiness," murmured La Fosse drowsily, "as signal as that which attended Pan's wooing of the Queen of Lydia."
He came at last to consult me as to what measures might be taken to remove them, and I nothing loath to conspire with him to so desirable end bade him suggest to Rodenard that perhaps evil had befallen Monsieur de Bardelys, and that, instead of wasting his time at Lavedan, he were better advised to be searching the province for his master.
But far from a murder, monsieur, it was an act of justice, and the most richly earned punishment with which ever man was visited." "Even if so," cried the Vicomte in some surprise, "why all this heat to defend a brawler?" "A brawler?" I repeated after him. "Oh, no. That is a charge his worst enemies cannot make against Bardelys. He is no brawler.
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