Beauvallet Read online

  Philip put his finger-tips together, and over them watched the Ambassador. ‘Continue, señor.’

  ‘The Chevalier, sire, very naturally denies this. His papers are in order; I cannot find from anything that I hear that there is any proof to substantiate the charge than Don Maxia de Perinat's word. I have seen Don Maxia, sire, and I must humbly confess that although he speaks as a man altogether convinced, I cannot deem his conviction to be sufficient evidence against the Chevalier. Moreover, sire, it appears that a certain lady who was taken prisoner by this same Beauvallet not so many months ago utterly denies that this man is he.’

  ‘I had not supposed it possible, señor, that El Beauvallet could be in Spain,’ said Philip calmly. ‘You come to request his release.’

  The Ambassador hesitated. ‘Sire, this is a very strange, a very difficult matter,’ he said. ‘It is no part of my desire to act hastily in it.’

  ‘Rest assured, señor, we shall do nothing without careful consideration,’ Philip said. ‘Do you identify the Chevalier?’

  Again there was a momentary hesitation. ‘I cannot do that, sire. I am not over-familiar with the members of the house of Guise; I have never, to my knowledge, met this man. But from what I know of the family I did from the first moment of seeing him suspect that this man might not be what he claimed to be. It is in my mind that the Chevalier de Guise should be a younger man than this, nor can I trace any resemblance to the Guises in his countenance.’

  Philip weighed that. ‘It might thus chance, señor,’ he said.

  ‘Certainly, sire. I may well be mistaken. But upon my first meeting with him I wrote into France to discover more of him. The answer to my letter must be awaited before I can state whether this man is the Chevalier or whether he is not. I have come here today, sire, to request you, very humbly, to be patient a few weeks, to hold your hand, in effect, until I receive the answer to my letter.’

  Philip nodded slowly. ‘We shall do nothing unadvisedly,’ he said. ‘We must think on this. You shall hear more of our decision, señor. Be sure we should be loth to proceed against a subject of our cousin of France.’

  ‘I have to thank your Majesty for your courtesy,’ de Lauvinière said, and bowed over the King's cold hand. He was ushered out of the cabinet, and passed through the antechamber without delay. Perinat tried to stop him, and shot an eager question, but de Lauvinière answered evasively, and passed on.

  The King would not see Don Maxia de Perinat. ‘It does not need for us to listen to Don Maxia,’ he said coldly. ‘He will make his deposition to the Alcalde at a later time. We will give audience to Don Cristobal de Porres.’

  Don Cristobal, commander of the Guards of Castile, Governor of the great barracks where Beauvallet was imprisoned, was awaiting the King's pleasure in the anteroom. He was a man of some forty years of age, dark and tall, with a grave countenance and a thin mouth half concealed by his black mustachio and the pointed beard he wore. He came in very promptly, and stood just inside the door, deeply bowing. ‘Sire!’

  ‘We have sent for you, señor, to inquire into this matter of your prisoner. I do not immediately understand why the ginetes were called in.’

  ‘The Casa Noveli, sire, is hard by the barracks,’ Porres answered. ‘A gentleman came in hot haste with the news that El Beauvallet was captured, and my lieutenant, Cruza, perhaps acted without due reflection. I have held the man in ward against the hearing of your Majesty's pleasure.’

  Philip seemed to be satisfied, for he said nothing for a moment or two, but gazed with apparent abstraction before him. Presently he brought his eyes back to Porres’ face, and spoke abruptly. ‘Let search be made in his baggage,’ he said. ‘We shall require you to keep the Chevalier under surveillance, Don Cristobal, until such time as we make known our further pleasure. If he travels with a Servant –’ he paused. ‘It might be well to interrogate the man.’

  ‘Sire – !’

  Philip waited.

  ‘It was judged expedient, sire, to send early this morning to the inn where the Chevalier lodged. I do not know sire, if this was agreeable to your Majesty, but in consideration – the charge was of such a nature – there was a fear –’

  ‘Compose yourself, señor.’

  ‘In short, sire, acting a little on Don Maxia de Perinat's advice, I caused search to be made through the Chevalier's effects, and sent to apprehend the servant, deeming it a measure your Majesty would approve.’

  ‘You acted precipitately,’ said Philip. ‘These things are not done without good advice. Continue.’

  ‘I ask your Majesty's pardon if I did wrongly. When my men came to the inn they found the – the Chevalier's baggage strewn about, his chests and strong box broken open and empty. His money was gone, his jewels, a sword of Ferrara make, the best of his dress – in short, sire, a seeming robbery, committed by the servant, who had fled.’

  ‘Who had fled,’ repeated the King. ‘But continue, señor.’

  ‘This we thought a suspicious circumstance, sire, but upon question the tapster at the inn confessed to having had speech with the servant last night, when he was evidently making his escape. The man says that he was something merry in his bearing, talked of his good fortune, and said that if his master was laid by the heels it was a good riddance to him, and he was not one to be slow to catch at opportunity.’

  ‘Possible! Possible!’ said Philip. ‘Yet this might well be a ruse. We have to consider all points, Don Cristobal. What said the Chevalier?’

  Don Cristobal smiled rather ruefully. ‘The Chevalier, sire, exhibited a very natural anger, and – in fact, sire, he demands – he is high in his tone – that strict search should be made for the fellow. He would have us send after the man to the Frontier, for he is left penniless. The Chevalier, sire, was particularly enraged at the loss of his sword. He started up, sire, and demanded to know whether the servant had made off with this piece, and upon being told that it was not to be found, he seemed like to fly into a very real passion. The next thing he asked, sire, was whether his papers, too, were gone, and it seemed to me – I was watching him closely – that he showed great relief when I could assure him that they were safe.’

  ‘Ah, the papers were left?’ Philip asked.

  ‘They were discovered, sire, in the inner pocket of a mandilion. I judged that the man had overlooked them in his haste. A wallet was found on the floor with a few odd bills in it, but nothing more. The Chevalier's linen was overturned as though the servant had sought amongst it for something, and we found sundry other articles of raiment.’

  ‘Let these be taken to the Chevalier,’ said Philip. ‘This is a delicate matter, señor, needing our careful judgment.’

  There was the sound of a softly opened door behind him. A man came into the room from some inner room behind Philip, a man in a priest's gown. Philip's thin lips parted in a smile that showed teeth that were yellow and rather pointed. ‘You are come opportunely, Father.’

  The priest had gone unobtrusively to the window, but he turned at Philip's words, and came nearer to the King's chair. He was Father Allen, an English Jesuit, never far from Philip's side. ‘You have need of me, sire?’

  ‘I may have need of you, Father,’ Philip answered cautiously. ‘There is a man held in ward, Father, who is accused of being the freebooter, Beauvallet.’

  ‘I have heard something of this, sire, from Frey Luis.’

  ‘Do you know this Beauvallet, Father?’ asked Philip directly.

  ‘I regret, sire, no. I knew his father by sight, but the sons by hearsay only.’

  ‘A pity.’ Philip's smile died. He regarded the opposite wall for a while. ‘I do not see what El Beauvallet does in Spain,’ he said, and awaited enlightenment.

  It came from Porres. ‘The tale is very strange, sire, almost incredible. It is said – by the lady's cousin – that El Beauvallet came into Spain to carry off Dona Dominica de Rada y Sylva.’

  Philip looked at him. It was plain that such a mad exploit was beyond his Catholic