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The Grey Cloak

Chapter 5 THE HORN OF PLENTY AND MONSIEUR DE SAUMAISE'S POTPIE

Word Count: 5338    |    Released on: 30/11/2017

slowly to draw itself together and assume the proportions of a huge, menacing rock. Of the roof lines, but lately of many hues and reaches

orus against the rock-bound coasts of the gloomy promontory and the isles of Ré and Oléron. As the vigor of the storm increased, the harbor towers Saint Nicholas and the Chain, looming in the blur like suppliant arms, and the sea walls began gradually to waver and recede in the accumulating haze, while across the dim yellow flame in the tower of the L

t their hempen cables. The snow fell upon them, changing them into phantoms, all seemingly eager to join in the mad revel of the storm. And the lights at the mastheads, swooping now downward, now upward, now from side to side, dappled the troubled waters with sick

hrough the streets, for the blinding, whirling snow turned them into shadow-shapes, or effaced them totally from sight. Besides, wayfarers were few and the hardy mariners had by this time sought the warm chimney in the favorite inn. For w

ags and preying navies; so that, with all his love of the sea, the mariner's true goal was home port and a cozy corner in the familiar inn. There, with a cup of gin or mulled wine at his elbow and the bowl of a Holland clay propped in a horny fist, he might listen tranquilly to the sobbing of the tempest in the gaping chimney. What if the night

er with caution nor with mental reservation; and favor, though inconsiderate as ever, was not niggard with her largess. Truly the mariner had not to draw on his imagination; the age of which he was a picturesque particle was a brave and gallant one: an Odyssey indeed, composed of Richelieus, sons and grandsons of the great Henri, Buckinghams, Stuarts, Cromwells, Mazarins, and Monks; Maries de Medicis, Annes of Austria, Mesdames de Longueville; of Royalists,

f Fortune's earnest, her pledge of treasures lightly to be won? The gamester went to his garret to dream of golden dice, the fallen noble of rehabilitated castles, the peasant of freedom and liberty. Even the solemn monk, tossing on hi

enri II and Diane de Poitiers turned the sober city into one of licentious dalliance, it had cheered the wayfarer during four generations. It was three stories high, constructed of stone, gabled and balconied, with a roof which resembled an assortment of fanciful noses. H

departed. This invitation often excited the stranger's laughter; but the Rochellais themselves never laughed at it, for to them it represented a familiar object, which, however incongruous or ridiculous, is always dear to the human heart. At night a green lantern was attached to the horn. At the left of the building was

osse-Horloge, had lost the patronage of the nobility. Ma?tre le Borgne recognized the importance of catering more to the jaded palate than to the palate in normal condition; hence, his popularity. In truth, he had the most delectable vintages outside the governor's cellars; they came from Bordeaux, Anjou, Burgundy, Champagne, and Sicily. His cook was an excommunicated m

s with cocks' combs, dormice in honey, pigeons with mushrooms, crabs boiled in sherry, crawfish and salmon and lobster, caviar pickled in the brine of spring-salt, pheasants stuffed with chestnuts and lambs' hearts, grainless cheese

ables and chairs, the liberality of lights, the continuous coming and going of the brilliantly uniformed officers stationed at Fort Louis, the silks and satins of the nobles, the soberer woolens of the burghers and seamen, all combined to give the room a peculiar char

ffs on the cobbles and doubtless cursing their unfortunate calling. Two of them carried lanterns which swung in harmony to the tread of feet, causing long, weird, shadowy legs to race back and for

dome. He was perplexed. Neither the noise of the storm nor the frequent clatter of a dish as it fell to the floor disturbed him. A potboy, rushing past with his arms full of tankards, bumped into the landlord; but not even this aroused him. His gaze wandered from

e!" said

. "Put your fears aside, good landlord.

still, that bald crown may be a great temptation to the hatchet. The

th renewed tenderness the subject of their jests. "And an Iroquois, too, the

r the host's face, on which was a mixture of

he cellar and lock him t

my wi

est sausages. And, once good and drunk, he would burn

r L

a bed," sugge

t! a

must sleep like ot

ving he was dead and buried in consecrated ground." And he wagged his head as

" said Du Puys; "for beside him the Turk doth but

re. "I am lost! But you, Messieu

tormentors cried; the

Borgne, who had seen Huguenots and Cath

acques. It is not impossible that they have relieved La Chaudière Noire of his tomahawk and scalping-knife. And besi

ic?" incr

ce at the innkeeper, who was known to love h

has been suddenly lifted. "Ah, Messieurs, but your joke frightened me cruelly. And they call him the Black Kettle? But per

knows his Indian as a

intend to make Frenc

nswer. "There remains only to teach the

e?" ventured the inn-keeper, wh

introduced this weed into France;" and Du Puys refilled his pipe, applied an ember, took off his faded baldric and rapier, and reclined full length on

t; and at once there arose a fragrant steam. He dropped the smoking metal to the floor, and drank deeply from the tankard. "Zachary, we shall see spring all glorious at Quebec, which is th

rem Dei gloriam. There was Father Jogues. What privations, what tortures he endured! And an Iroquois sank a hatchet into his brain. I have seen the Spaniard at his worst, the Italian, the Turk, but for matchle

will not Father Chaumonot wast

s impulses. But woe to the man who crosses his path. His peasants are well fed and clothed warmly; his servants refuse to leave him. He was one of the gayest and wildest courtiers in Paris, a man who has killed twenty men in du

ry to Madame de Montbazon, who in turn related it to the queen. The marquis threw his hat in the face of the Duc de Longueville when the latter accused him of receiving billets from madame. There was a duel. The duke carried a bad arm to Normandy, and the marquis di

self. He has been sent home from court in disgrace, though what disgrace no one seems to know. Some piece of gallantry, no doubt, which ended in a duel. He and his father

ce has too much of it. Wine and dicing and women: fine s

younger sons. But what's this turmoil between our comrade Nicot and Ma?t

rms and pointing to his vis-à-vis at the table, while the

e," cried Nicot, "o

er place," protested the ma?tre

smells abomin

f twenty-three or four, with a countenance more ingenuous than handsome, expre

a gentleman, and a soldier, to

, calmly helping himself to a quarter of rabb

did not serve to mollify the anger of the ir

king up the carving knife and jestingl

e laugh

remember where you are!" Ma?tre

outh banteringly. "Well, Monsieur Nicot, permit me to finish this e

ed Nicot, pushin

youth imperturbably, "I

bserve the stranger. A courier from the king was

ou look the groom a leag

March. They left me only my sword and papers and some pistoles which I had previously hidden in the band of my hat. Monsieur, I find a chair; I take it. Having ordered a pie, I eat it; in fact, I continue to eat it,

my sword!" roared Nicot; and he was about

ce; you go too fast." Du P

ache. "If I were not so tired I could enjoy this comedy. Horns of Panurge! di

ed Du Puys courteously. The very coolness of

e that

orward as to a

et in her Majesty's Guar

our bu

ce. "Is this once more a rebel city? And are you, Monsieur, successor to Guibon, the mayor, or the governor of the province, or some equally distinguished person, to qu

ly just were it not for the fact that a messenger from Paris directl

again, "that simplifies everything. You are

ogies; but, nevertheless, I still adhere to the stat

pology and confess

icot, naively, "you k

e-leg! It is my turn to apologis

," sadly. Eve

wls were the bane of his existence, and he did his utmost to prevent them from becoming common affairs at the Corne d'Abondance. He trotted off to the cellars, muttering int

hat I bear your commission as major." He pr

ces. I was to have had it while in Paris; and his Eminence put me o

. But I congratulate you, Major; and her Majesty and Father Vincent de Paul wish you well in your perilous underta

iates, traders, and l

ithout labor. The rings on my purse s

? You have influence; b

leave any. No, no! There is small pleasure in praying all day and fighting all night. No, thank you. Paris is plenty for me." Yet ther

ed sheets. What kind of money-chest does this Mazarin possess that, engulfing all

. He is husbanding. Louis XIV will become a great king whenever Mazarin dies. We who live shal

jesty is at times attac

n discovered grow

minister and stroked his grizzled chin. His thought went back to the days when the handsome Buckingham

in on the knuckles of his hand. "Monsieur,

m court, stripped of his hon

ate return to Paris," and De Sau

ght about this

and another m

A

; are there not times when the best of

oliness is

he believed to be guilty, but who was as innocent as himself. Only a week ago this comrade became aware of what had happened. Even h

ier is not all b

his father. You have met

But here comes the host with the

Fra

nts on your

t wavered above the springing flames, now incandescent, now black as jet, now tearing itself from the brick and flying heavenward. Sometimes th

"are you related to

embarrassed smile. "Yes, Monsieur. I ha

you. While in Paris I heard you

write an occasional ballade, it is for the mere pleasure of writing, a

i at Cahors.' It has the true martial

is poisonously sweet. Can you direct me to the Ho

Puys, standing. "But wait a while. The C

ink

ng and

icers came crowding in. All made for the fire, stamping and jostling and laughing. The leader, his eyes b

erry bowl, the jolly and hot bowl. The devil him

rned the roisterers toward the door that led into the private assembly-room. He had just learned that the Jesuits had arrived and that there was no room for them at the episcopal palace, and that they were

l save the leader, who was seen suddenly to steady himself af

he cried

frankl

ced and were holding each

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Open
1 Chapter 1 THE MAN IN THE CLOAK.2 Chapter 2 THE TOILET OF THE CHEVALIER DU CEVENNES3 Chapter 3 THE MUTILATED HAND4 Chapter 4 AN AENEAS FOR AN ACHATES5 Chapter 5 THE HORN OF PLENTY AND MONSIEUR DE SAUMAISE'S POTPIE6 Chapter 6 AN ACHATES FOR AN AENEAS7 Chapter 7 THE PHILOSOPHY OF MONSIEUR LE MARQUIS DE PERIGNY8 Chapter 8 THE LAST ROUT9 Chapter 9 THE FIFTY PISTOLES OF MONSIEUR LE VICOMTE10 Chapter 10 THE DILIGENCE FROM ROUEN AND THE MASQUERADING LADIES11 Chapter 11 MONSIEUR LE COMTE D'HEROUVILLE12 Chapter 12 ACHATES WRITES A BALLADE OF DOUBLE REFRAIN13 Chapter 13 TEN THOUSAND LIVRES IN A POCKET14 Chapter 14 BRETON FINDS A MARKER FOR HIS COPY OF RABELAIS15 Chapter 15 THE SUPPER16 Chapter 16 THE POET EXPLAINS TO MONSIEUR DE LAUSON17 Chapter 17 WHAT THE SHIP HENRI IV BRINGS TO QUEBEC18 Chapter 18 THE MASTER OF IRONIES19 Chapter 19 A PAGE FROM MYTHOLOGY BY THE WAY AND A LETTER20 Chapter 20 A DEATH WARRANT OR A MARRIAGE CONTRACT21 Chapter 21 AN INGENIOUS IDEA AND A WOMAN'S WIT22 Chapter 22 D'HEROUVILLE THREATENS AND MADAME FINDS A DROLL BOOK23 Chapter 23 A MARQUIS DONS HIS BALDRIC24 Chapter 24 SISTER BENIE AND A DISSERTATION ON CHARITY25 Chapter 25 OF ORIOLES AND WOMAN'S PREROGATIVES26 Chapter 26 BROTHER JACQUES TELLS THE STORY OP HIAWATHA27 Chapter 27 ONONDAGA28 Chapter 28 THE FLASH FROM THE SPURT OF FLAME29 Chapter 29 A JOURNEY INTO THE HILLS AND30 Chapter 30 THE VICOMTE D'HALLUYS RECEIVES31 Chapter 31 THE EPIC OF THE HUNTING HUT32 Chapter 32 THE ENVOI OF A GALLANT POET33 Chapter 33 HOW GABRIELLE DIANE DE MONTBAZON LOVED34 Chapter 34 THE ABSOLUTION OF MONSIEUR LE MARQUIS DE PERIGNY35 Chapter 35 BROTHER!