Bernard Capes

“ THE KING'S STAR I MAÎTRE JEAN BICHE stood, with a very black and evil expression of countenance, looking over the parapet of Notre Dame Bridge. He was in that mood when violence of some sort seems the only redress for an outraged self-esteem. It was just a question with him whether he should kill himself or another—deprive the insensate world of an inspired poet, or of an uninspired patron of poetasters. ”

“ IV It was significant of Jean Biche's condition that the exalted madman in him never once sought to penetrate the anonymity of either of his tempters. From the moment when he had surrendered his soul to them, he felt himself as if carried along on a wild wind of Destiny. When he left the tavern, he had truly meant to kill himself; it had needed very little to divert his murderous hand to another. Self-destruction is the last resource of the egoist, because it appears the most complete means left to him of wreaking his vengeance on a world which refuses to take him at his own valuation. ”

“ He was a sickly-looking, weedy young man, with a silly intolerant face, and a rudimentary beard.
"I know this M. Biche," he said. "A wretched poet, i' faith—he speaks it. If any man obliges him, he is my enemy—the enemy of Bras-de-Férule. Hell will be penalty enough without his rhyming. Live, good Mr. Biche, live and prosper, we entreat thee, and presently carry thy lyre to heaven where the peacocks sing."
The band went on its way, Bras-de-Férule leading; and Jean Biche, with a taste of bile in his mouth, bent again to the river. ”

“ There was a momentary block; a word and a sign were exchanged, and the next instant, treading on the heels of the Children of Malta, Jean Biche found himself, confident, triumphant, crossing the stones of that yard which, a year before, had swum in the blood of the massacre. ”

“ The Duke, listening very intently, protested with a pallid face.
"He will be supposed one of them—one of the thieves. The King will suppose it."
"The King will suppose nothing, Messire."
"That is all one. They will be all one in the retribution exacted."
"A parcel of rogues, sir—the better for everybody. There is no confessional-box so inviolable as Montfaucon."
The Prince whined pitifully: "I do not like it."
"Nor I," said de la Mole. "It is purely a matter for Coincidence—that is the difficulty; insuperable, I fear. Those who consort with rogues must take the risk of their company. ”

“ Thereafter his fury of excitement burned like a banked-in fire, the hotter and more ominous for its repression. He moved darkly from group to group, sinister, watchful, unclean. A thousand fantastic grievances haunted his wild and wandering fancy, or were gone in an instant to give place to that crowning exultation. But, whatever his mood, he never forgot to follow the movements of his victim, or to hold himself prepared for his cue. In these stealthy observations, he noticed a peculiar trick the King had of lifting his hand to his throat, as if it troubled him ”

“ I can only guess; but let us imagine, say, that Coincidence has conceived the idea of entering with the band of cut-purses itself; that he has been instructed how to identify the King by the diamond star on his cloak; that he follows among them, when all withdraw, supposing his comrades to be, not the thieves they are, but fellow-conspirators, prepared to rally about him when he does that which shall raise him at a stroke to the topmost pinnacle of fame? ”

“ And it was this fantastic delicacy which, in the end, almost defeated his purpose; for, happening to turn from a burly, hot-faced cavalier, upon whose heels he had literally trodden at the wicket, he failed to observe that the moment had come, and that the man was actually then on his way to the assignation.
He gave a mortal start. The great doors at the south end of the hall stood open; the King had already passed through; a little group of men was in the act of following. A spiral of fire seemed to spring from Jean Biche's soles and to go roaring up to his head. ”

“ III The young Charles IX of France was not only a poet in himself, but the cause that poetry was in other men. That should have made him a proud king, yet there must have been times when the sycophantic swarm of grasshoppers drove him to regret his own gift. He could discriminate very clearly between the real and the pretentious, and he did; yet it is doubtful if in earlier days he would have put his foot so savagely on the poor charlatan, Jean Biche. ”

“ La Chambre had succeeded in gathering his half-score of rogues, and His Majesty received the band in private audience. There were Bras-de-Férule, Pérignon of the webbed ringers, called the Duck, Mazas the Pounder, and seven others. There was an air of confident swagger about them all, which, under the royal safe-conduct, was not subdued. The King was immensely interested.
"You are welcome, gentlemen of industry," he said. "I give you the term with apologies."
"N' importe!" said Mazas, who was a good-humoured red tun of a man. "It is something to be given anything. ”

“ The unlucky poet, thus publicly gibbeted, gave one gasp, rigidly sat out the ensuing raillery, and presently crept forth, a soul wounded beyond endurance or extenuation.
Now men who have learned to live without hope will sometimes lose their reason in the reaction from a brief draught of it. Maître Jean could have borne the persistent neglect of Fortune ”

“ He wants to kill, and, in his monstrous vanity, himself seems the most irreparable loss he can inflict on his fellows. But, his mood being homicidal, it is well for others to interpose no alternative. It is often only accident which makes the suicide instead of the assassin. ”

“ De la Mole was silent a moment.
"Guitry is at hand and prepared. It is of Coincidence we speak, Messire," he then said coldly.
"But, he could not, in any case, live long?"
"Long is a relative term, Messire, like short and tall. The day is our only metre for measuring time." ”

“ Jean Biche—living meanwhile in the clouds, and feeding almost exclusively on wind—kept the appointment with punctuality, and found no impulsive patron awaiting him at The Mewing Cat, which was just a jolly tavern in the Rue de la Juiverie on the City Island. ”

“ Pick his pocket for him."
"You speak too late, Messire; it is already done," said Pérignon with an air of dignity; and, to Charles's huge delight and the Captain's mortification, he produced the latter 's purse from his bosom. La Chambre wanted to reclaim it.
"No," said the King. "If you will keep such fine company, you must pay your footing." He addressed Bras-de-Férule, who appeared to be the leader. "This is all very well, but I doubt your capacity for the finer task."
"And what is that, Messire? " asked the young man. He caressed his scrap of beard, impudently, after the King's manner ”

“ All made way for the rude fellow, less interested in him than in the sudden disturbance. But even so he did not gain the door until the last of the conspirators had disappeared through it. The guard, on his application, passed him by, believing him to be one of the privileged ”