The Grey Cloak

d in his breast the slumbering canker of envy,-envy of youth, of health, of the joy of living. They were young in yonder room; the

on what had he expended it, to have become thus beggared? To find an apothecary having the elixir of eternal youth! How quickly he would gulp the draft to bring back that beauty whi

hose slender brown hands which defied the lowliness of her birth, and those ankles the beauty of which not even the clumsy sabots could conceal! He knew a duchess whose line of blood was older than the Capets' or the Bourbons'. Was not nature the great Satirist? To give nobility to that duc

ch print themselves so indelibly upon the mind that they become not elusive like the memory of an enhancing melody or an exquisite poem, but lasting, like the sense of life itself. And Margot, daughter of his own miller-she had loved him with all the strength an

ween the lines of which he could read the quiet tragedy of an unimportant life. Whither had she gone, carrying that brutal, unjust blow? Was she living? ... dead? Was there such a

to the shouts of laughter and snatches of ribald song, to hear again the nightingale, the stir of grasses under foot, the thrilling sweetness of the voice he loved. When he recovered from his dream h

otten. But I offer no complaint; only fools and hypocrites make lamentation. And I am less to this son of yours than the steward who reckons his accounts. Where place the blame? Upon these shoulders, Madame, stooped as you in life never saw them. I kn

lier's voice lifted in song. He was singing one of V

le drinks from

ine from her

n a casement

e drinks from

te's love for

grape, for the

e drinks from

ne from her

he game path through which I passed ... to this, palsy and senility! Oh, the subtile poisons, the intoxicating Hippocrenes I taught him how to drink! And now he turns and casts the dregs into my face. But as I said, I make no plaint; I do not lack coura

took up the Chev

le drinks from

te's love for

will save him. I will pardon his insolence, his contempt, his indifference, which, having my bone, was bred in him. Still, the question rises: for w

me a crash, followed by laughter. Some convivial spirit had lost his

his does not stir to these when they come from the lips of one he does not hold in respect. The shock must be rude, penetrating. I must break his pride. And on what is pride based if not upon the pom

andals, and women. Ordinarily the marquis would have listened with secret pleasure

ses! ... I wonder where I have seen that younger fanatic?" The marquis mused a while, but the riddle remained elusive and un

ur le Comte?

I repeat

ay, nearly overc

d'Halluys: "the Chevalier's

heir glasses. "To Paris

wn," whispered the poet

"Paris!" and a thousand flashes of cand

ling array of candlesticks; a fireplace of shining mosaics; the mahogany table littered with broken glass, full and empty bottles, broken pipes, pools of overturned wine, shredded playing cards, cracked dice, and dead candles; somber-toned pictures and rusted armor lin

all drunk. Let us see if there be ste

wh

ine. I will undertake to snuff mine in less time than it takes

said the

th pitying contempt. Somehow the poet did not wholly trust the vicomte. Genius has strange instincts. While Victor admired the vicomte's wit, his courage, his recklessness, there was a depth to this man which did not challenge investigation, but rather repelled it. What did that half smile signify? Victor shrugged. Perhaps it was all his imagination. Perhaps it was because he had seen the vi

and the Chevalier held enviable reputations as fancy swordsmen. To snuff a candle with a pair of swords held scissorwise is a feat to be accomplished only by an expert. I

Messieurs, it is now twenty-nine minutes after ten; promptly at thirty I

. Several seconds pass

wo-thr

ner than the vicomte. The applause was loud. Breton was directed

mte," said the Chevalier,

ing," returned the vicomte, bo

, and Jehan appeare

Marquis, your father, desires to speak to y

is glass. His companions did lik

moment he commanded

him to see how this news affected his friends. They were exchanging blank

don me, but he wish

y father is old and is doubtless attacked b

d not rise; he merely turned his head. The

s interrupted me to say that you de

"It is regarding a matter far more serious and important than the state of my health. I am weary, Monsieur le

e to respect you," quietly, t

: "You see, Madame?" To his son he said: "If you can not re

f respect. But is yours honest, Mo

to marry Mademoiselle de Montbazon, I forgot to say that she was not my daughte

er into a fit of uncontrollable lau

it occurred, might naturally have appealed to me.

cried the marquis,

s not agreeable to you, I will leave at once. It is a small ma

ne which has returned you to her Majesty's

ur," coldly. The roisterers were becoming hila

rows weary of wine-bibbers and roist

not appreciate the natu

s fumbled

anter in his tones, "surely you are not going to preach m

. You have disappointed

kard and a gamester? Perhaps I have not concerned myself sufficiently with women? Ah well, Monsieur,

and the marquis, whose impulse had been good, but whose approach to the vital point of

ere to discuss not the past, but the future." He was quite a

. "Best assured, Monsieur, that

ile with which he had formerly greeted opponents on the field of honor. "And, after all

h the spirit of conflict. But he rushed on to his doom, as it was written he should. Paris was in his mind, Paris and mademoiselle, who

was filled with love which must spend itself upon something. I offered this love, filial and respectful, to Monsieur le Marquis. Madame, the bottle was more responsive to this outburst of generous youth than Monsieur le Marquis, to whom I was a living plaything, a clay which he molded as a pastime-too readily, alas! And now, behold! he speaks of respect. It would be droll if it were not sad. True, he gave me gold; but he also taught me how to use this devil-key which

is eyes losing some of their metallic hardness. "You tho

errupting a fine apostrophe! ... And as a culmination, he would have me wed the daughter

d snuffed also the belated paternal spark of affection which had suddenly kindled in his father's breast. "Yo

" inso

ficiently noble to merit Rubens's brush. It is to be

s burst into

le drinks from

te's love for

ominous silence which had suddenly fil

onsieur?" with an unnatural quietnes

f this terrible thrust, and with monstrous satisfaction he saw the shiver which took his son in its chilling grasp and sent him staggering back. "Then you return to Paris to-morrow? ... to be the Chevalier du Cévennes till the end? Ah well!" How often man over-reaches himself in the gratification of an ignoble revenge! "W

nt fragments of life pass and repass the vision. And at this moment there flashed across the Chevalier's brain, indistinctly it is true, the young Jesuit's words, spoken at the Silver Candlestick in Paris... "An object of scorn, contumely, and forgetful

y, "take care! Are you not t

some object other than his son. The first blinding heat of passion had subsided, and in the following haze he saw that he had committed a wrong which a thousand

e was about to be impaled upon it; but he gave no sign of fear. Presently the sword deviated from its horizontal line, decl

e may be, ceased to amuse?" His sardonian laugh chilled the marquis in the marrow. "And I have spent your gold, thinking it lawfully mine? ... lorded over your broad lands, believing myself to be heir to them? ... been Monsieur le Comte this and Monsieur le Comte that? How the gods must have laughed as I walked forth among the great, arrogant in my pride of birth and riches! Poor fool! Surely, Monsieur, it must be as you say: Heaven and hell are of ou

f fate. For a little he would have flung himself at his son's feet. He had lied, lied, lied! What could

valier staggered off toward the dining-hall, from whence still came the ro

the marquis, a vague terror lend

you will see." The Chevalier flung apart the doors. His roistering friends greeted

and Victor saw that somethi

te, "appears to be touched with a

murmured Victor, se

the vicomte sighed regretfully. From where he sat he could see the gri

oor. "Listen!" with a sweeping glance which took in every face. "To Monsieur le Marquis, my noble father! Up, up!" waving his rapier. Yes, madness was in his eyes; it bubbled and frothed in his veins, burned and cracked his lips. "It i

rds in chorus. They saw nothing; a

ous chateaux and magnificent h?tels? Fools! 'twas all a lie! I who was am not. I vanish from the scene like a play-actor. Drink it

ter. In the salon the marquis listened with eyes distended, with jaw fallen, lips sunken inward and of a color as sickly as blue chalk... A maudlin

ctor; "my God, P

beggars, sponges and cheats! Out, I say! Back to the devil who spawned you!" He drove them forth with the flat of his sword. He saw nothing, heard nothing, knew nothing save that he was mad, possess

crowded and pressed into the hall. The vicomte

vicomte's hand; "can you not see t

s striking me w

is m

er Poet; I can wa

The roisterers flocked down the steps to the str

" asked th

," said the

e," laughed the vicomte, assisting the roi

all w

" and the vicom

o the semblance of so many ravens. He rubb

s, fools! Spell it largely! It will amuse the court. Drink, drink, drink!" Wine bubbled and ran about the table; candles sputtered and died; still the sword rose and fell. Then came silenc

ard the dining-hall, fumbling his lips, mumbling inco

ied passionately, "what

, the Chevalier's rage returned; b

How Paris will laugh!" He gazed around, dimly noting the havoc. He rose, the sword sti

ike, so great was his passion and

; "be bastard, then; play

as my

lf, drunkard! Never f

ok from his pocket his purse. He cast

ce your name spoken. In spite of all you have done, I shall yet become a man. Somewhere I shall begin anew. I shall find a level, and from that I shall rise. And I shall become what

" said

ou, Victor

d into its scabbard, and locking his arm in his friend's

od he did not believe in!-only

t about with his cane even as the Chevalier had beaten about with his sword. "Double fool! to lose him for the sake of a lie, a damnable lie, and the lack

nd trembling, carrying

s. "'Tis you. Jehan, c

ur?" Jehan

inch of death. Call me a fool, whose wrath, over-leaped h

O

!" The c

disrespect! ... Monsi

e, dotin

g fool!" repeate

oward the staircase. "Monsieur le Comte has left this house

ly, as attentively as hi

nth ..." The marquis had by this

Mons

er comes

list

him

ackey staring at the vanishing point. He saw the ruin and desolation

esus! What h