Part 18 (1/2)

”But the dress?” asked Redward.

”That is easily to be had. I have a stock of them in this house. And the price----”

”They have not been used?” interrupted the master-bowman anxiously.

”Certainly not, monsieur,” replied the barber, with a hideous leer.

”'Twould be impossible. But the price I ask--and they be of good quality--is but one livre, five sols--quite a small sum for a wealthy gentleman like monsieur!”

At that moment a loud rapping was heard. The squire and his father sprang up, and, suspecting danger, their hands flew to their sword-hilts.

With a motion of his hand, their host indicated that they should hide behind a heavy curtain; then, taking a torch from its socket, he made towards the door.

After considerable parleying the nocturnal visitor was admitted, and, through a small hole in the mouldy curtain, Redward could see him without risk. That he was a man of quality was apparent by the long furred gown he wore; and further, by the length of the garment and its rich violet colour, and the mortier or silk cap, ornamented with Valenciennes lace, worn instead of the hat affected by the bourgeois, his rank was of importance.

”Art thou Raoul de Rohein, the chirurgeon?” he asked, in a lisping voice, flouris.h.i.+ng a musk-perfumed handkerchief as if to ward off the hideous shape before him.

”At thy service, my lord--barber, chirurgeon, apothecary, having been duly examined and licensed by the great John Pitart, surgeon of the Chatelet of Paris.”

”'Tis well! I am the Sieur d'Erqui, and I am bound for the army of Charles of Blois, that lieth before Hennebon. In camps one has always the fear of plague. Therefore, believing that forewarned is forearmed, I come to thee for a remedy or, rather, a preventative--'gainst the fell disorder.”

”I have the very thing, monsieur! But five sols nine deniers the box--the nine deniers being devoted to the funds of the hospital of St. Brieuc, _bien entendu!_ By the holy St. Mark, the very thing! A mixture of sulphur, viper's cake, powder of pearls, confection of hyacinth, and an extract of the juice of _scorsonera_, all prepared according to the recipe of the learned John Pitart, and made into tablets covered with gold foil. One drachm three times a week, in the morning, is the dose, monsieur, and if exposed to the infection two drachms before going to bed!”

”And is that all?” inquired the Sieur anxiously, as if the presence of the barber was a presage of the plague.

”Nay, of thine own ordering there is much to be done. I perceive that monsieur carries the perfume of musk about with him. That is wrong.

Instead, let him take a citron p.r.i.c.ked with cloves. Never walk out fasting, neither drink wine immoderately; and, in the case of immediate danger, take a little theriaque; and I'll warrant Erqui will welcome its Sieur home in due course. And the fee, monsieur, is, as I said, seven sols nine deniers.”

”But now thou didst ask five sols and nine deniers!”

”Two sols in addition for the advice--excellent advice, monsieur.

_Merci, monsieur, et bon voyage!_”

The Sieur had gone, and Raymond and his father came from their hiding-place. Redward explained to his son, in a few words, the nature of their disguise. Once again the talon-like hand of the miserly Raoul closed over the money, and away he went to look for the required garments.

In a few moments he returned. The Englishmen donned the repulsive insignia of the leper, and took the barillets in their hands. The barber again unfastened the door and listened intently for any sound.

There was none.

”Take the road through the village; it leads to Pontivy. There, perchance, ye may find horses. Fare ye well!”

And, pa.s.sing out into the darkness of the night, the Englishmen began their long journey afoot, stealing silently through the almost deserted streets towards the frowning hills of Brittany.

[1] It was not until thirty years later that the hospitals of St.

Lazare and St. Germain were founded in Paris for the relief of these unfortunate sufferers. On systematic steps being taken to deal with the malady, the number of its victims quickly diminished; till the scourge was practically wiped out.

CHAPTER XII

THE JOURNEY PERILOUS