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Marie Antoinette Romances, Vol 1: Balsamo, The Magician

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<h2>CHAPTER XV. TAVERNEY TO THE RESCUE.</h2> At this period a window in the cottage opened and a lovely woman's face appeared, above the Arabian courser, the uproar having aroused her. "The very person wanted," cried Jean. "Fair lady, I offer you five hundred pistoles for your horse." "My horse?" questioned the lady in bad French. "Yes, the barb hitched there." "Not for sale," and the lady slammed the window. "Come, come, I am not in luck this day," said Jean, "for folk will neither sell nor hire. Confound it all! I shall take the Arab, if not for sale, and the coach horses if not for hire, and run them to their last legs. Put the horses to," he concluded to the lady traveler's lackey, who was on the coach. "Help me, boys?" shouted the post master to his hostlers. "Oh, don't," cried Chon to her brother; "you will only be massacred." "Massacred, with three to three? for I count on your philosopher," said Jean, shouting to Gilbert, who was stupefied. "Get out and pitch in with a cane, or a rock, or the fist. And don't look like a plaster image!" Here the burlesque battle began, with the horses pulled between Jean and their owner. The stronger man hurled the latter into the duckpond, where he floundered among the frightened ducks and geese. "Help! murder!" he shrieked, while the viscount hastened to get the fresh horses into the traces. "Help, in the king's name!" yelled the innkeeper, rallying his two grooms. "Who claims help in the royal name?" challenged a horseman who suddenly galloped into the inn yard and pulled up his reeking steed amid the fighting party. "Lieutenant Philip de Taverney!" exclaimed Gilbert, sinking back deeper than ever in the carriage corner. Chon, who let nothing slip her, caught this name. The young officer of the dauphin's dragoon guards leaped off his horse amid the scene, which was attracting all the villagers. The innkeeper ran up to him imploringly as the saver. "Officer, this gentleman is trying to take away the horses kept for her Royal Highness," he faltered. "Gentleman?" queried Philip. "Yes, this gentleman;" retorted Jean. "You mistake, you are mad—or no gentleman," replied the Chevalier of Redcastle. "My dear lieutenant, you are wrong on both points," said the viscount; "I have my senses, and I am entitled to ride in the royal carriages." "How dare you, then, lay hands on the horses for the royal princess?" "Because there are fifty here and the Royals are entitled to but eight. Am I to go afoot when lackeys have four nags to draw them?" "If it is the order of his Majesty, they may have what they like. So be good enough to make your fellow take back those horses." "Yes, if you are on duty to guard them, lieutenant," replied Jean; "but I did not know that the dauphiness' dragoons were set to guard grooms. Better shut your eyes, tell your squad to do the same, and I wish you a pleasant journey!" "You are wrong, sir; I am on duty, as the dauphiness has sent me forward to look after the relays." "That is different. But allow the remark that you are on paltry duty, and the young Bonnibel is shamefully treating the army——" "Of whom are you speaking in such terms?" interrupted Philip. "Oh, only of that Austrian beauty." Taverney turned pale as his cravat, but in his usual calm voice he said, as he caught hold of the bridle: "Do me the pleasure to acquaint me with your name?" "If you are bent upon that—I am Viscount Jean Dubarry." "What, brother of that notorious——" "Who will send you to rot in the Bastille prison, if you add a word to the adjective." The viscount sprang into the coach, up to the door of which went the baron's son. "If you do not come forth in a second I give you my word of honor that I shall run my sword through your body." Having hold of the door with his left hand, pulling against the viscount, he drew his sword with the other. "The idea!" said Chon; "this is murder. Give up the horses, Jean." "Oh, you threaten me, do you?" hissed the viscount, exasperated, and snatching his sword from the cushion. "We shall never get away at this rate," whispered Chon; "do smooth the officer down." "Neither violence nor gentleness will stay me in my duty," observed Taverney, politely bowing to the young woman. "Advise obedience to the gentleman, or in the name of the king, whom I represent, I shall kill him if he will fight me, or arrest him if he refuses." "Shall I lug him out, lieutenant?" asked the corporal, who had Taverney's half-dozen men as escort. "No, this is a personal quarrel," said his superior. "You need not interfere." There was truly no need; for, after three minutes, Jean Dubarry drew back from the conflict with Redcastle, his sleeve dyed with blood. "Go, sir," said the victor, "and do not play such pranks any more." "Tush, I pay for them," grumbled the viscount. Luckily three horses came in which would do for the change, and the innkeeper was only too glad to get rid of the turbulent viscount at their price. As he mounted the carriage steps, he grumbled at Gilbert's being in the way. "Hush, brother," said Chon; "he knows the man who wounded you. He is Philip of Taverney." "Then we shall be even yet," said the viscount, with a gleam of gladness. "You are on the high horse at present, my little dragoon," he shouted out to Taverney; "but turn about is fair play." "To the return, if you please," replied the officer. "Yes, Chevalier Philip de Taverney!" called Jean, watching for the effect of the sudden declaration of his name. Indeed, his hearer raised his head with sharp surprise, in which entered some unease, but recovering himself and lifting his hat, he rejoined with the utmost grace: "A pleasant journey, Chevalier Jean Dubarry!" "A thousand thunders," swore the viscount, grinning horribly as the coach started. "I am in acute pain, Chon, and shall want a surgeon sooner than breakfast." "We will get one at the first stop while this youth has his meal." "Excuse me," said Gilbert, as the invalid expressed a desire to drink. "But strong drink is bad for you at present." "What, are you a doctor as well as philosopher?" queried Jean. "Not yet, my lord; though I hope to be one some day. But I read that wounded patients must not take anything heated. But if you will let me have your handkerchief, I will dip it in water at the first spring and cool the wound by bandaging it." The carriage was stopped for Gilbert to get out and wet the cambric. "This youngster is dreadfully in the way for us to talk business," said Dubarry. "Pshaw! we will talk in the Southern dialect," said Chon; and it was thanks to this precaution that the two communed to the puzzlement of the youth on the rest of the journey. But he had the consolation of thinking that he had comforted a viscount who stood in the king's favor. If Andrea only saw him now! He did not think of Nicole. "Hello!" broke off the viscount, as he looked behind out of the window. "Here comes that Arab with the strange woman on its back. I would give a thousand pistoles for that steed, and a fortune for the beauty." The black-eyed woman wrapped in a white cloak, with her brow shaded by a broad-brimmed felt hat with long feathers, flew by like an arrow along the roadside, crying: "Avanti, Djerid!" "She says 'Forward!' in Italian," said the viscount. "Oh, the lovely creature. If I were not in such pain, I would jump out and after her." "You could not catch her, on that horse. It is the magician, and she is his wife." "Magician?" questioned the Dubarrys together. "Yes, Baron Joseph Balsamo." The sister looked at the brother as much as to say: "Was I not right to keep him?" and he nodded emphatically. <hr style="width:65%;"> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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