The Duke's Motto: A Melodrama

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McCarthy Justin Huntly. The Duke's Motto: A Melodrama

DÉDICACE

I. THE SEVEN DEVILS

II. THE THRUST OF NEVERS

III. A BUYER OF BLADES

IV. THE LITTLE PARISIAN

V. THE PARRY TO THE THRUST OF NEVERS

VI. THE MOAT OF CAYLUS

VII. BROTHERS-IN-ARMS

VIII. THE FIGHT IN THE MOAT

IX. THE SCYTHE OF TIME

X. A VILLAGE FAIR

XI. ÆSOP REDUX

XII. FLORA

XIII. CONFIDENCES

XIV "I AM HERE!"

XV. THE KING’S WORD

XVI. SHADOWS

XVII. IN THE GARDEN

XVIII. THE FACTION OF GONZAGUE

XIX. THE HALL OF THE THREE LOUIS

XX. A CONFIDENTIAL AGENT

XXI. THE PRINCESS DE GONZAGUE

XXII. THE FAMILY COUNCIL

XXIII. THE KING’S BALL

XXIV. THE ROSE-COLORED DOMINO

XXV. THE GLOVE OF COCARDASSE

XXVI. THE REWARD OF ÆSOP

XXVII. ÆSOP IN LOVE

XXVIII. THE SIGNATURE OF ÆSOP

XXIX. THE DEAD SPEAKS

Отрывок из книги

It was very warm in the inn room, but it was so much warmer outside, in the waning flames of the late September evening, that the dark room seemed veritably cool to those who escaped into its shelter from the fading sunlight outside. A window was open to let in what little air was stirring, and from that window a spectator with a good head might look down a sheer drop of more than thirty feet into the moat of the Castle of Caylus. The Inn of the Seven Devils was perched on the lip of one rock, and Caylus Castle on the lip of another. Between the two lay the gorge, which had been partially utilized to form the moat of the castle, and which continued its way towards the Spanish mountains. Beyond the castle a bridge spanned the ravine, carrying on the road towards the frontier. The moat itself was dry now, for war and Caylus had long been disassociated, and France was, for the moment, at peace with her neighbor, if at peace with few other powers. A young thirteenth Louis, a son of the great fourth Henri, now sat upon the throne of France, and seemingly believed himself to be the ruler of his kingdom, though a newly made Cardinal de Richelieu held a different opinion, and acted according to his conviction with great pertinacity and skill.

Inside the Inn of the Seven Devils, on this heavy day of early autumn, seven men were sitting. It was an odd chance, and the men had joked about it heavily – there was one man for each devil of the Inn’s name. Six of these men were grouped about a table furnished with flagons and beakers, and were doing their best to alleviate the external heat by copious draughts of the rough but not unkindly native wine which Martine, the plain-faced maid of the Inn, dispensed generously enough from a ruddy earthenware pitcher. A stranger entering the room would, at the first glance, have taken the six men seated around the table for soldiers, for all were stalwart fellows, with broad bodies and long limbs, bronzed faces and swaggering carriage, and behind them where they sat six great rapiers dangled from nails in the wall, rapiers which the revellers had removed from their sides for their greater ease and comfort. But if the suppositious stranger were led to study the men a little more closely, he would be tempted to correct his first impression. The swaggering carriage of the men lacked something of the stiffness inevitably to be associated with military training in the days when the levies of the Sun-King were held, or at least held themselves to be, the finest troops in Europe, a cheerful opinion which no amount of military misfortune could dissipate.

.....

He made a momentary halt, as if he were observing curiously the effect of his words upon his hearers, then resumed:

"The young Louis de Gonzague and the young Louis de Nevers were almost of an age. Each was an only child, each was an only son, each was clever, each was courageous, each was comely, each was the chosen heart’s friend of a namesake king, each was much a lover of ladies, each was much loved by ladies."

.....