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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/30417-0.txt b/30417-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..709a8dd --- /dev/null +++ b/30417-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7848 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30417 *** + + The Bright Face of Danger + +_Being an Account of Some Adventures of Henri de Launay, Son of the +Sieur de la Tournoire. Freely Translated into Modern English_ + + By Robert Neilson Stephens + +_Author of_ "An Enemy to the King," "Philip Winwood," "The Mystery of +Murray Davenport," etc. + + _Illustrated by_ H. C. Edwards + + +_Boston_ +L. C. Page & Company +_Mdcccciiii_ + +_Copyright, 1904_ +By L. C. Page & Company + +_Entered at Stationers' Hall, London_ +_All rights reserved_ + +Published April, 1904 +Colonial Press + +Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co. +Boston. Mass., U.S.A. + + + + + _THE BRIGHT FACE OF DANGER is, in a distant way, a sequel to "An + Enemy to the King," but may be read alone, without any reference to + that tale. The title is a phrase of Robert Louis Stevenson's._ + + _THE AUTHOR._ + + +[Illustration: "'I GIVE YOU ONE CHANCE FOR YOUR LIFE,' SAID I QUICKLY."] + + + + +CONTENTS + + + I. MONSIEUR HENRI DE LAUNAY SETS OUT ON A JOURNEY + + II. A YOUNG MAN WHO WENT SINGING + + III. WHERE THE LADY WAS + + IV. WHO THE LADY WAS + + V. THE CHATEAU DE LAVARDIN + + VI. WHAT THE PERIL WAS + + VII. STRANGE DISAPPEARANCES + + VIII. MATHILDE + + IX. THE WINDING STAIRS + + X. MORE THAN MERE PITY + + XI. THE RAT-HOLE AND THE WATER-JUG + + XII. THE ROPE LADDER + + XIII. THE PARTING + + XIV. IN THE FOREST + + XV. THE TOWER OF MORLON + + XVI. THE MERCY OF CAPTAIN FERRAGANT + + XVII. THE SWORD OF LA TOURNOIRE + + XVIII. THE MOUSTACHES OF BRIGNAN DE BRIGNAN + + XIX. AFTERWARDS + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + +"'I GIVE YOU ONE CHANCE FOR YOUR LIFE,' SAID I QUICKLY" + +"'AND NOW SHE WILL WAIT FOR HIM IN VAIN!'" + +"WE WERE INTERRUPTED BY A LOW CRY" + +"'THE WRETCHES!' SAID THE TORTURED COUNT, STAGGERING TO HIS FEET" + +"I LEAPED OVER THE BED, AND UPON THE MAN WHO WAS TRYING TO STRANGLE THE +COUNTESS" + +"MY FATHER'S THRUSTS BECAME NOW SO QUICK AND CONTINUOUS" + + + + +THE BRIGHT FACE OF DANGER + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +MONSIEUR HENRI DE LAUNAY SETS OUT ON A JOURNEY + + +If, on the first Tuesday in June, in the year 1608, anybody had asked me +on what business I was riding towards Paris, and if I had answered, "To +cut off the moustaches of a gentleman I have never seen, that I may toss +them at the feet of a lady who has taunted me with that gentleman's +superiorities,"--if I had made this reply, I should have been taken for +the most foolish person on horseback in France that day. Yet the answer +would have been true, though I accounted myself one of the wisest young +gentlemen you might find in Anjou or any other province. + +I was, of a certainty, studious, and a lover of books. My father, the +Sieur de la Tournoire, being a daring soldier, had so often put himself +to perils inimical to my mother's peace of mind, that she had guided my +inclinations in the peaceful direction of the library, hoping not to +suffer for the son such alarms as she had undergone for the husband. I +had grown up, therefore, a musing, bookish youth, rather shy and +solitary in my habits: and this despite the care taken of my education +in swordsmanship, riding, hunting, and other manly accomplishments, both +by my father and by his old follower, Blaise Tripault. I acquired skill +enough to satisfy these well-qualified instructors, but yet a volume of +Plutarch or a book of poems was more to me than sword or dagger, horse, +hound, or falcon. I was used to lonely walks and brookside meditations +in the woods and meads of our estate of La Tournoire, in Anjou; and it +came about that with my head full of verses I must needs think upon some +lady with whom to fancy myself in love. + +Contiguity determined my choice. The next estate to ours, separated from +it by a stream flowing into the Loir, had come into the possession of a +rich family of bourgeois origin whom heaven had blessed (or burdened, as +some would think) with a pretty daughter. Mlle. Celeste was a small, +graceful, active creature, with a clear and well-coloured skin, and +quick-glancing black eyes which gave me a pleasant inward stir the first +time they rested on me. In my first acquaintance with this young lady, +the black eyes seemed to enlarge and soften when they fell on me: she +regarded me with what I took to be interest and approval: her face shone +with friendliness, and her voice was kind. In this way I was led on. + +When she saw how far she had drawn me, her manner changed: she became +whimsical, never the same for five minutes: sometimes indifferent, +sometimes disdainful, sometimes gay at my expense. This treatment +touched my pride, and would have driven me off, but that still, when in +her presence, I felt in some degree the charm of the black eyes, the +well-chiselled face, the graceful swift motions, and what else I know +not. When I was away from her, this charm declined: nevertheless I chose +to keep her in my mind as just such a capricious object of adoration as +poets are accustomed to lament and praise in the same verses. + +But indeed I was never for many days out of reach of her attractive +powers, for several of her own favourite haunts were on her side of the +brook by which I was in the habit of strolling or reclining for some +part of almost every fair day. Attended by a fat and sleepy old +waiting-woman, she was often to be seen running along the grassy bank +with a greyhound that followed her everywhere. For this animal she +showed a constancy of affection that made her changefulness to me the +more heart-sickening. + +Thus, half in love, half in disgust, I sat moodily on my side of the +stream one sunny afternoon, watching her on the other side. She had been +running a race with the dog, and had just settled down on the green +bank, with the hound sitting on his haunches beside her. Both dog and +girl were panting, and her face was still merry with the fun of the +scamper. Her old attendant had probably been left dozing in some other +part of the wood. Here now was an opportunity for me to put in a sweet +speech or two. But as I looked at her and thought of her treatment of +me, my pride rebelled, and I suppose my face for the moment wore a +cloud. My expression, whatever it was, caught the quick eyes of Mlle. +Celeste. Being in merriment herself, she was the readier to make scorn +of my sulky countenance. She pealed out a derisive laugh. + +"Oh, the sour face! Is that what comes of your eternal reading?" + +I had in my hand a volume of Plutarch in the French of Amyot. Her +ridicule of reading annoyed me. + +"No, Mademoiselle, it isn't from books that one draws sourness. I find +more sweetness in them than in--most things." I was looking straight at +her as I said this. + +She pretended to laugh again, but turned quite red. + +"Nay, forgive me," I said, instantly softened. "Ah, Celeste, you know +too well what is the sweetest of all books for my reading." By my look +and sigh, she knew I meant her face. But she chose to be contemptuous. + +"Poh! What should a pale scholar know of such books? I tell you, +Monsieur de Launay, you will never be a man till you leave your books +and see a little of the world." + +Though she called me truly enough a pale scholar, I was scarlet for a +moment. + +"And what do you know of the world, then?" I retorted. "Or of men +either?" + +"I am only a girl. But as to men, I have met one or two. There is your +father, for example. And that brave and handsome Brignan de Brignan." + +Whether I loved or not, I was certainly capable of jealousy; and +jealousy of the fiercest arose at the name of Brignan de Brignan. I had +never seen him; but she had mentioned him to me before, too many times +indeed for me to hear his name now with composure. He was a young +gentleman of the King's Guard, of whom, by reason of a distant +relationship, her family had seen much during a residence of several +months in Paris. + +"Brignan de Brignan," I echoed. "Yes, I dare say he has looked more into +the faces of women than into books." + +"And more into the face of danger than into either. That's what has made +him the man he is." + +"Tut!" I cried, waving my Plutarch; "there's more manly action in this +book than a thousand Brignans could perform in all their lives--more +danger encountered." + +"An old woman might read it for all that. Would it make her manly? Well, +Monsieur Henri, if you choose to encounter danger only in books, there's +nobody to complain. But you shouldn't show malice toward those who +prefer to meet it in the wars or on the road." + +"Malice? Not I. What is Brignan de Brignan to me? You may say what you +please--this Plutarch is as good a school of heroism as any officer of +the King's Guard ever went to." + +"Yet the officers of the King's Guard aren't pale, moping fellows like +you lovers of books. Ah, Monsieur Henri, if you mean to be a monk, well +and good. But otherwise, do you know what would change your complexion +for the better? A lively brush with real dangers on the field, or in +Paris, or anywhere away from your home and your father's protection. +That would bring colour into your cheeks." + +"You may let my cheeks alone, Mademoiselle." + +"You may be sure I will do that." + +"I'm quite satisfied with my complexion, and I wouldn't exchange it for +that of Brignan de Brignan. I dare say his face is red enough." + +"Yes, a most manly colour. And his broad shoulders--and powerful +arms--and fine bold eyes--ah! there _is_ the picture of a hero--and his +superb moustaches--" + +Now I was at the time not strong in respect of moustaches. I was +extremely sensitive upon the point. My frame, though not above middle +size, was yet capable of robust development, my paleness was not beyond +remedy, and my eyes were of a pleasant blue, so there was little to +rankle in what she said of my rival's face and body; but as to the +moustaches----! + +I scrambled to my feet. + +"I tell you what it is, Mademoiselle. Just to show what your Brignan +really amounts to, and whether I mean to be a monk, and what a reader of +books can do when he likes, I have made up my mind to go to Paris; and +there I will find your Brignan, and show my scorn of such an illiterate +bravo, and cut off his famous moustaches, and bring them back to you for +proof! So adieu, Mademoiselle, for this is the last you will see of me +till what I have said is done!" + +The thing had come into my head in one hot moment, indeed it formed +itself as I spoke it; and so I, the quiet and studious, stood committed +to an act which the most harebrained brawler in Anjou would have deemed +childish folly. Truly, I did lack knowledge of the world. + +I turned from Mlle. Celeste's look of incredulous wonderment, and went +off through the woods, with swifter strides than I usually took, to our +chateau. Of course I dared not tell my parents my reason for wishing to +go to Paris. It was enough, to my mother at least, that I should desire +to go on any account. The best way in which I could put my resolution to +them, which I did that very afternoon, on the terrace where I found them +sitting, was thus: + +"I have been thinking how little I know of the world. It is true, you +have taken me to Paris; but I was only a lad then, and what I saw was +with a lad's eyes and under your guidance. I am now twenty-two, and many +a man at that age has begun to make his own career. To be worthy of my +years, of my breeding, of my name, I ought to know something of life +from my own experience. So I have resolved, with your permission, my +dear father and mother, to go to Paris and see what I may see." + +My mother had turned pale as soon as she saw the drift of my speech, and +was for putting every plea in the way. But my father, though he looked +serious, seemed not displeased. We talked upon the matter--as to how +long I should wish to stay in Paris, whether I had thought of aiming at +any particular career there, and of such things. I said I had formed no +plans nor hopes: these might or might not come after I had arrived in +Paris and looked about me. But see something of the world I must, if +only that I might not be at disadvantage in conversation afterward. It +was a thing I could afford, for on the attainment of my majority my +father had made over to me the income of a portion of our estate, a +small enough revenue indeed, but one that looked great in my eyes. He +could not now offer any reasonable objection to my project, and he plead +my cause with my mother, without whose consent I should not have had the +heart to go. Indeed, knowing what her dread had always been, and seeing +the anxious love in her eyes as she now regarded me, I almost wavered. +But of course she was won over, as women are, though what tears her +acquiescence caused her afterwards when she was alone I did not like to +think upon. + +She comforted herself presently with the thought that our faithful +Blaise Tripault should attend me, but here again I had to oppose her. +For Blaise, by reason of his years and the service he had done my father +in the old wars, was of a dictatorial way with all of us, and I knew he +would rob me of all responsibility and freedom, so that I should be +again a lad under the thumb of an elder and should profit nothing in +self-reliance and mastership. Besides this reason, which I urged upon my +parents, I had my own reason, which I did not urge, namely, that I +should never dare let Blaise know the special purpose of my visit to +Paris. He would laugh me out of countenance, and yet ten to one he would +in the end deprive me of the credit of keeping my promise, by taking its +performance upon himself. That I might be my own master, therefore, I +chose as my valet the most tractable fellow at my disposal, one Nicolas, +a lank, knock-kneed jack of about my own age, who had hitherto made +himself of the least possible use, with the best possible intentions, +between the dining-hall and the kitchen. And yet he was clever enough +among horses, or anywhere outdoors. My mother, though she wondered at my +choice and trembled to think how fragile a reed I should have to rely +on, was yet not sorry, I fancy, at the prospect of ridding her house of +poor blundering Nicolas in a kind and creditable way. I had reason to +think Nicolas better suited for this new service, and, by insisting, I +gained my point in this also. + +I made haste about my equipment, and in a few days we set forth, myself +on a good young chestnut gelding, Nicolas on a strong black mule, which +carried also our baggage. Before I mounted, and while my mother, doing +her best to keep back her tears, was adding some last article of comfort +to the contents of my great leather bag, my father led me into the +window recess of the hall, and after speaking of the letters of +introduction with which he had provided me, said in his soldierly, +straightforward manner: + +"I know you have gathered wisdom from books, and it will serve you well, +because it will make you take better heed of experience and see more +meaning in it. But then it will require the experience to give your +book-learned wisdom its full force. Often at first, in the face of +emergency, when the call is for action, your wisdom will fly from your +mind; but this will not be the case after you have seen life for +yourself. Experience will teach you the full and living meaning of much +that you now know but as written truth. It may teach you also some +things you have never read, nor even dreamt of. What you have learned by +study, and what you must learn by practice only, leave no use for any +good counsel I might give you now. Only one thing I can't help saying, +though you know it already and will doubtless see it proved again and +again. There are many deceivers in the world. Don't trust the outward +look of things or people. Be cautious; yet conceal your caution under +courtesy, for nothing is more boorish than open suspicion. And remember, +too, not to think bad, either, from appearances alone. You may do +injustice that way. Hold your opinion till the matter is tested. When +appearances are fair, be wary without showing it; when they are bad, +regard your safety but don't condemn. In other words, always mingle +caution with urbanity, even with kindness.--I need not speak of the name +you have to keep unsullied. Honour is a thing about which you require no +admonitions. You know that it consists as much in not giving affronts as +in not enduring them, though many who talk loudest about it seem to +think otherwise. Indeed this is an age in which honour is prated of most +by those who practise it least. Well, my son, there are a thousand +things I would say, but that is all I shall say. Good-bye--may the good +God bless and protect you." + +I had much to do to speak firmly and to perceive what I was about, in +taking my leave, for my mother could no longer refrain from sobbing as +she embraced me at the last, and my young brother and sister, catching +the infection, began to whimper and to rub their eyes with their fists. +Knowing so much more of my wild purpose than they did, and realizing +that I might never return alive, I was the more tried in my resolution +not to disgrace with tears the virgin rapier and dagger at my side. But +finally I got somehow upon my horse, whose head Blaise Tripault was +holding, and threw my last kisses to the family on the steps. I then +managed voice enough to say "Good-bye, Blaise," to the old soldier. + +"Nay, I will walk as far as to the village," said he, in his gruff, +autocratic way. "I have a word or two for you at parting." + +Throwing back a somewhat pallid smile to my people, tearfully waving +their adieus, I turned my horse out of the court-yard, followed by +Nicolas on the mule, and soon emerging from the avenue, was upon the +road. Blaise Tripault strode after me. When I came in front of the inn +at the end of the village, he called out to stop. I did so, and Blaise, +coming up to my stirrup, handed me a folded paper and thus addressed me: + +"Of course your father has given you all the advice you need. Nobody is +more competent than he to instruct a young man setting out to see the +world. His young days were the days of hard knocks, as everybody knows. +But as I was thinking of your journey, there came into my head an old +tale a monk told me once--for, like your father, I was never too much of +a Huguenot to get what good I might out of any priest or monk the Lord +chose to send my way. It's a tale that has to do with travelling, and +that's what made me think of it--a tale about three maxims that some +wise person once gave a Roman emperor who was going on a journey. I half +forget the tale itself, for it isn't much of a tale; but the maxims I +remembered, because I had had experience enough to realize their value. +I've written them out for you there: and if you get them by heart, and +never lose sight of them, you'll perhaps save yourself much repentance." + +He then bade me good-bye, and the last I saw of him he was entering the +inn to drink to my good fortune. + +When I had got clear of the village, I unfolded Blaise's paper and read +the maxims: + +1. "_Never undertake a thing unless you can see your way to the end of +it._" + +2. "_Never sleep in a house where the master is old and the wife +young._" + +3. "_Never leave a highway for a byway._" + +Very good counsel, thought I, and worth bearing in mind. It was true, my +very journey itself was, as to its foolhardy purpose, a violation of the +first maxim. But that could not be helped now, and I could at least heed +that piece of advice, as well as the others, in the details of my +mission. When I thought of that mission, I felt both foolish and +heavy-hearted. I had not the faintest idea yet of how I should go about +encountering Brignan de Brignan and getting into a quarrel with him, and +I had great misgivings as to how I should be able to conduct myself in +that quarrel, and as to its outcome. Certainly no man ever took the road +on a more incredible, frivolous quest. Of all the people travelling my +way, that June morning, T was probably one of the most thoughtful and +judiciously-minded; yet of every one but myself the business in being +abroad was sober and reasonable, while mine was utterly ridiculous and +silly. And the girl whose banter had driven me to it--perhaps she had +attached no seriousness whatever to my petulant vow and had even now +forgotten it. With these reflections were mingled the pangs of parting +from my home and family; and for a time I was downcast and sad. + +But the day was fine. Presently my thoughts, which at first had flown +back to all I had left behind, began to concern themselves with the +scenes around me; then they flew ahead to the place whither I was +bound:--this is usually the way on journeys. At least, thought I, I +should see life, and perchance meet dangers, and so far be the gainer. +And who knows but I might even come with credit out of the affair with +Monsieur de Brignan?--it is a world of strange turnings, and the upshot +is always more or less different from what has been predicted. So I took +heart, and already I began to feel I was not exactly the pale scholar of +yesterday. It was something to be my own master, on horseback and +well-armed, my eyes ranging the wide and open country, green and brown +in the sunlight, dotted here and there with trees, sometimes traversed +by a stream, and often backed by woods of darker green, which seemed to +hold secrets dangerous and luring. + +Riding gave me a great appetite, and I was fortunate in coming upon an +inn at Durtal whose table was worthy of my capacity. After dinner, we +took the road again and proceeded at an easy pace toward La Flèche. + +Toward the middle of the afternoon a vague uneasiness stole over me, as +if some tragic circumstance lay waiting on the path--to me +unknown--ahead. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +A YOUNG MAN WHO WENT SINGING + + +It was about five o'clock when we rode into La Flèche, and the feeling +of ill foreboding still possessed me. Partly considering this, and +partly as it was improbable I should find the best accommodations +anywhere else short of Le Mans, I decided to put up here for the night. +As I rode into the central square of the town, I saw an inn there: it +had a prosperous and honest look, so I said, "This is the place for my +money," and made for it. The square was empty and silent when I entered +it, but just as I reached the archway of the inn, I heard a voice +singing, whereupon I looked around and saw a young man riding into the +square from another street than that I had come from. He was followed by +a servant on horseback, and was bound for the same inn. It seems strange +in the telling, that a gentleman should ride singing into a public +square, as if he were a mountebank or street-singer, yet it appeared +quite natural as this young fellow did it. The song was something about +brave soldiers and the smiles of ladies--just such a gay song as so +handsome a young cavalier ought to sing. I looked at him a moment, then +rode on into the inn-yard. This little act, done in all thoughtlessness, +and with perfect right, was the cause of momentous things in my life. If +I had waited to greet that young gentleman at the archway, I believe my +history would have gone very differently. As it was, I am convinced that +my carelessly dropping him from my regard, as if he were a person of no +interest, was the beginning of what grew between us. For, as he rode in +while I was dismounting, he threw at me a look of resentment for which +there was nothing to account but the possible wound to his vanity. His +countenance, symmetrically and somewhat boldly formed, showed great +self-esteem and a fondness for attention. His singing had suddenly +stopped. I could feel his anger, which was probably the greater for +having no real cause, I having been under no obligation to notice him or +offer him precedence. + +He called loudly for an ostler, and, when one came out of the stables, +he coolly gave his orders without waiting for me, though I had been +first in the yard. He bade his own servant see their horses well fed, +and then made for the inn-door, casting a scornful glance at me, and +resuming his song in a lower voice. It was now my turn to be angry, and +justly, but I kept silence. I knew not exactly how to take this sort of +demonstration: whether it was a usual thing among travellers and to be +paid back only in kind, or whether for the sake of my reputation I ought +to treat it as a serious affront. It is, of course, childish to take +offence at a trifle. In my ignorance of what the world expects of a man +upon receipt of hostile and disparaging looks, I could only act as one +always must who cannot make up his mind--do nothing. After seeing my +horse and mule attended to, I bade Nicolas follow with the baggage, and +entered the inn. + +The landlord was talking with my young singing gentleman, but made to +approach me as I came in. The young gentleman, however, speaking in a +peremptory manner, detained him with questions about the roads, the town +of La Flèche, and such matters. As I advanced, the young gentleman got +between me and the host, and continued his talk. I waited awkwardly +enough for the landlord's attention, and began to feel hot within. A +wench now placed on a table some wine that the young man had ordered, +and the landlord finally got rid of him by directing his attention to +it. As he went to sit down, he bestowed on me the faintest smile of +ridicule. I was too busy to think much of it at the moment, in ordering +a room for the night and sending Nicolas thither with my bag. I then +called for supper and sat down as far as possible from the other guest. +He and I were the only occupants of the room, but from the kitchen +adjoining came the noise of a number of the commonalty at food and +drink. + +"Always politeness," thought I, when my wine had come, and so, in spite +of his rudeness and his own neglect of the courtesy, as I raised my +glass I said to him, "Your health, Monsieur." + +He turned red at the reproach implied in my observance, then very +reluctantly lifted his own glass and said, "And yours," in a surly, +grudging manner. + +"It has been a pleasant day," I went on, resolved not to be churlish, at +all hazards. + +"Do you think so?" he replied contemptuously, and then turned to look +out of the window, and hummed the tune he had been singing before. + +I thought if such were the companions my journey was to throw me in +with, it would be a sorry time till I got home again. But my young +gentleman, for all his temporary sullenness, was really of a talkative +nature, as these vain young fellows are apt to be, and when he had +warmed himself a little with wine even his dislike of me could not +restrain his tongue any longer. + +"You are staying here to-night, then?" he suddenly asked. + +"Yes, and you?" + +"I shall ride on after supper. There will be starlight." + +"I have used my horse enough to-day." + +"And I mine, for that matter. But there are times when horses can't be +considered." + +"You are travelling on important business, then?" + +"On business of haste. I must put ground behind me." + +"I drink to the success of your business, then." + +"Thank you, I am always successful. There is another toast, that should +have first place. The ladies, Monsieur." + +"With all my heart." + +"That's a toast I never permit myself to defer. Mon dieu, I owe them +favours enough!" + +"You are fortunate," said I. + +"I don't complain. And you?" + +"Even if I were fortunate in that respect, I shouldn't boast of it." + +He coloured; but laughed shortly, and said, "It's not boasting to tell +the mere truth." + +"I was thinking of myself, not of you, Monsieur." This was true enough. + +"I can readily believe you've had no great luck that way," he said +spitefully, pretending to take stock of my looks. I knew his remark was +sheer malice, for my appearance was good enough--well-figured and +slender, with a pleasant, thoughtful face. + +"Let us talk of something else," I answered coldly, though I was far +from cool in reality. + +"Certainly. What do you think of the last conspiracy?" + +"That it was very rash and utterly without reason. We have the best king +France ever knew." + +"Yes, long live Henri IV.! They say there are still some of the +malcontents to be gathered in. Have you heard of any fresh arrests?" + +"Nothing within two weeks. I don't understand how these affairs can +possibly arise, after that of Biron. Men must be complete fools." + +"Oh, there are always malcontents who still count on Spain, and some +think even the League may be revived." + +"But why should they not be contented? I can't imagine any grievances." + +"Faith, my child, where have you been hiding yourself? Don't you know +the talk? Do you suppose everybody is pleased with this Dutch alliance? +And the way in which the King's old Huguenot comrades are again to be +seen around him?" + +"And why not? Through everything, the King's heart has always been with +the protestants." + +"Oho! So you are one of the psalm-singers, then?" His insulting tone and +jeering smile were intolerable. + +"I have sung no psalms here, at least," I replied trembling with anger; +"or anything else, to annoy the ears of my neighbours." + +"So you don't like my singing?" he cried, turning red again. + +I had truly rather admired it, but I said, "I have heard better." + +"Indeed? But how should you know. For your education in taste, I may +tell you that good judges have thought well of my singing." + +"Ay, brag of it, as you do of your success with the ladies." + +He stared at me in amazement, then cried. "Death of my life, young +fellow!--" But at that instant his servant brought in his supper, and he +went no further. My own meal was before me a minute later, and we both +devoted ourselves in angry silence to our food. I was still full of +resentment at his obtrusive scorn of myself and my religious party, and +I could see that he felt himself mightily outraged at my retorts. From +the rapid, heedless way in which he ate, I fancied his mind was busy +with all sorts of revenge upon me. + +When he had finished, at the same time as I did, and our servants had +gone to eat their supper in the kitchen, he leaned against the wall, and +said, "I am going to sing, Monsieur, whether it pleases you or not." And +forthwith he began to do so. + +My answer was to put on a look of pain, and walk hastily from the room, +as if the torture to my ears were too great for endurance. + +I was not half-way across the court-yard before I heard him at my heels +though not singing. + +"My friend," said he, as I turned around, "I don't know where you were +bred, but you should know this: it's not good manners to break from a +gentleman's company so unceremoniously." + +It occurred to me that because I had taken his insults from the first, +through not knowing how much a sensible man should bear, he thought he +might safely hector me to the full satisfaction of his hurt vanity. + +"So you do know something of good manners, after all?" I replied. "I +congratulate you." + +His eyes flashed new wrath, but before he knew how to answer, and while +we were glaring at each other like two cocks, though at some distance +apart, out came Nicolas from the kitchen to ask if I wished my cloak +brought down, which he had taken up with the bag. In his rustic +innocence he stepped between my nagging gentleman and myself. The +gentleman at this ran forward in an access of rage, and threw Nicolas +aside, saying, "Out of the way, knave! You're as great a clown as your +master." + +"Hands off! How dare you?" I cried, clapping my hand to my sword. + +"If you come a step nearer, I'll kill you!" he replied, grasping his own +hilt. + +I sent a swift glance around. There was no witness but Nicolas. Yet a +scuffle would draw people in ten seconds. Even at that moment, with my +heart beating madly, I thought of the edict against duelling: so I said, +as calmly as I could: + +"If you dare draw that sword, I see trees beyond that gateway--a garden +or something. It will be quieter there." I pointed to a narrow exit at +the rear of the yard. + +"I will show you whom you're dealing with, my lad!" he said, +breathlessly, and made at once for the gate. I followed. I could see now +that, though a bully, he was not a coward, and the discovery fell upon +me with a sense of how grave a matter I had been drawn into. + +At the gate I looked around, and saw Nicolas following, his eyes wide +with alarm. "Stay where you are, and not a word to anybody," I ordered, +and closed the gate after me. My adversary led the way across a +neglected garden, and out through a postern in a large wall, to where +there was a thicker growth of trees. We passed among these to a little +open space near the river, from which it was partly veiled by a tangled +mass of bushes. The unworn state of the green sward showed that this was +a spot little visited by the townspeople. + +"We have stumbled on the right place," said the young gentleman, with an +assumption of coolness. "It's a pity the thing can't be done properly, +with seconds and all that." And he proceeded to take off his doublet. + +I was sobered by the time spent in walking to the place, so I said, +"It's not too late. Monsieur, if you are willing to apologize." + +"I apologize! Death of my life! You pile insult on insult." + +"I assure you, it is you who have been the insulter." + +He laughed in a way that revived my heat, and asked, "Swords alone, or +swords and daggers?" + +"As you please." By this time I had cast off my own doublet. + +"Rapiers and daggers, then," he said, and flung away his scabbard and +sheath. I saw the flash of my own weapons a moment later, and ere I had +time for a second thought on the seriousness of this event--my first +fight in earnest--he was keeping me busy to parry his point and watch +his dagger at the same time. I was half-surprised at my own success in +turning away his blade, but after I had guarded myself from three or +four thrusts, I took to mind that offence is the best defence, and +ventured a lunge, which he stopped with his dagger only in the nick of +time to save his breast. His look of being almost caught gave me +encouragement, making me realize I had received good enough lessons from +my father and Blaise Tripault to enable me to practise with confidence. +So I pushed the attack, but never lost control of myself nor became +reckless. It was an inspiriting revelation to me to find that I could +indeed use my head intelligently, and command my motions so well, at a +time of such excitement. We grew hot, perspired, breathed fast and loud, +kept our muscles tense, and held each other with glittering eyes as we +moved about on firm but springy feet. We must have fought very swiftly, +for the ring of the steel sounded afterward in my ears as if it had been +almost continuous. How long we kept it up, I do not exactly know. We +came to panting more deeply, and I felt a little tired, and once or +twice a mist was before my eyes. At last he gave me a great start by +running his point through my shirt sleeve above the elbow. Feeling +myself so nearly stung, I instinctively made a long swift thrust: up +went his dagger, but too late: my blade passed clear of it, sank into +his left breast. He gave a sharp little cry, and fell, and the hole I +had made in his shirt was quickly circled with crimson. + +"Victory!" thought I, with an exultant sense of prowess. I had fleshed +my sword and brought low my man! But, as I looked down at him and he lay +perfectly still, another feeling arose. I knelt and felt for his heart: +my new fear was realized. With bitter regret I gazed at him. All the +anger and scorn had gone out of his face: it was now merely the handsome +boyish face of a youth like myself, expressing only a manly pride and +the pain and surprise of his last moment. It was horrible to think that +I had stopped this life for ever, reduced this energy and beauty to +eternal silence and nothingness. A weakness overwhelmed me, a profound +pity and self-reproach. + +I heard a low ejaculation behind me, which made me start. But I saw it +was only Nicolas, who, in spite of my orders, had stolen after me, in +terror of what might happen. + +"Oh, heaven!" he groaned, as he stared with pale face and scared eyes at +the prostrate form. "You have killed him, Monsieur Henri." + +"Yes. It is a great pity. After all, he merely thought a little too well +of himself and was a little inconsiderate of other people's feelings. +But who is not so, more or less? Poor young man!" + +"Ah, but think of us, Monsieur Henri--think of yourself, I mean! We had +better be going, or you will have to answer for this." + +"That is so. We must settle with the landlord and get away from this +town before this gentleman is missed." + +"And alas! you arranged to stay all night. The landlord will be sure to +smell something. Come, I beg of you: there's not a moment to lose. Think +what there's to do--the bag to fetch down, the horse and mule to saddle. +We shall be lucky if the officers aren't after us before we're out of +the town." + +"You are right.--Poor young man! At least I will cover his face with his +doublet before I go." + +"I'll do that, Monsieur. You put on your own doublet, and save time." + +I did so. As Nicolas ran past me with the slain man's doublet, something +fell out of the pocket of it. This proved to be a folded piece of paper, +like a letter, but with no name outside. I picked it up. Fancying it +might give a clue to my victim's identity, and as the seal was broken, I +opened it. There was some writing, in the hand of a woman,--two lines +only: + +"_For heaven's sake and pity's, come to me at once. My life and honour +depend on you alone._" + +As the missive was without address, so was it without signature. It must +have been delivered by some confidential messenger who knew the +recipient, and yet by whom a verbal message was either not thought +expedient, or required to be confirmed by the written appeal. The +recipient must be familiar with the sender's handwriting. The note +looked fresh and clean, and therefore must have been very lately +received. + +"Come, Monsieur Henri," called Nicolas, breaking in upon my whirling +thoughts. "Why do you wait?--What is the matter? What do you see on that +paper?" + +"And this," I answered, though of course Nicolas could not understand +me, "is the business he was on! This is why he had need to put ground +behind him. He was going on to-night. He must have stopped only to +refresh his horses." + +"Yes, certainly, but what of that? What has his business to do with us?" + +"I have prevented his carrying it out. My God!--a woman's life and +honour--a woman who relies on him--and now she will wait for him in +vain! At this very moment she may be counting the hours till he should +arrive!--What have I done?" + +[Illustration: "'AND NOW SHE WILL WAIT FOR HIM IN VAIN!'"] + +"You, Monsieur? It's not your fault if he chose to get into a quarrel +with you. He must have valued his business highly if he dared risk it in +a fight." + +"Of course he thought from my manner that he could have his own way with +me. There would be no loss of time--his horses needed rest, for greater +speed in the long run. He knew what he was about--there's no doubt of +his haste. 'Come to me at once. My life and honour depend on you alone.' +And while she waits and trusts, I step in and cut off her only +hope!--not this poor young fellow's life alone, but hers also, Nicolas! +It mustn't be so--not if I can any way help it. I see now what I am +called upon to do." + +"What is that, Monsieur Henri?" asked Nicolas despairingly. + +"To carry out this gentleman's task which I have interrupted--to go in +his stead to the assistance of this lady, whoever and wherever she may +be!" + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +WHERE THE LADY WAS + + +"Very well, Monsieur," said Nicolas after a pause, in a tone which meant +anything but very well. "But first you will have enough to do to save +yourself. This gentleman will soon be missed. He was in haste to go on, +as you say. His servant will be wondering why he delays, and the +landlord will become curious about his bill." + +"Yes, but I must think a moment. Where is this poor lady? Who is the +gentleman? There may be another letter--a clue of some sort." + +I hurriedly examined the young man's pockets, but found nothing written. +His purse I thought best to leave where it was: to whom, indeed, could I +entrust it with any chance of its being more honestly dealt with than by +those who should find the body? The innkeeper and the gentleman's +servant, with their claims for payment, would see to that. But I kept +the lady's note. + +"Well," said I, "I must have a talk with the valet. I must find out +where this gentleman was going, for that must be the place where the +lady is." + +"But the valet doesn't know where the gentleman was going. He was +talking to me about that in the stables." + +"That's very strange--not to know his master's destination." + +"He knows very little of his master's affairs: he was hired only +yesterday, at Sablé. The gentleman was staying at the inn there. +Yesterday he engaged this man, and said he was going to travel on at the +end of the week. But this morning he suddenly made up his mind to start +at once, and came off without saying where he was bound for. Until I +told him, the man didn't know that the name of this town was La Flèche." + +"And what else did he tell you?" + +"That's all. He was only grumbling about having to come away so +unexpectedly, and being so in the dark about his master's plans." + +"You're sure he didn't say what caused his master to change his mind and +start at once?" + +"He said nothing more, Monsieur." + +"Did he mention his master's name?" + +"No, we didn't get as far as that. It was only his desire to complain to +somebody, that made him speak to me; and I was too busy with the horses +to say much in reply." + +"Then you didn't give my name--to him or any one else here?" + +"Not to a soul, Monsieur." + +"That's fortunate. Well, we must be attending to our business. I will +pay the landlord, and give him some reason for riding on. While you are +getting the animals ready, I will try to sound this valet a little +deeper. Come." + +Without another look behind, we hastened back to the inn. + +"It's a fine evening," said I to the landlord, "and that gentleman I saw +here awhile ago has given me the notion of riding on while the air is +cool." I spoke as steadily as I could, and I suppose if the landlord +detected any want of ease he put it down to the embarrassment of +announcing a change of mind. In any case, he was not slow to compute the +reckoning, nor I to pay it. Then, after seeing my bag and cloak brought +down, I went in search of the young gentleman's valet. I found him in +the kitchen, half way through a bottle of wine. + +"Your master has not yet ridden on, then?" said I, dropping carelessly +on the bench opposite him. + +"No, Monsieur," he replied unsuspectingly. He seemed more like a country +groom than a gentleman's body servant. + +"I have decided to go on this evening, in imitation of him," I +continued. + +"Then your servant had better come back and finish his supper. It's +getting cold yonder. Just as he was going to begin eating, he thought of +something, and went out, and hasn't returned yet." + +It was, alas, true. In my excitement I had forgotten all about Nicolas's +supper, which he had left in order to see if I wanted my cloak for the +cool of the evening. + +"I sent him on an errand," I replied. "He shall sup doubly well later. +As I was about to say, your master--by the way, if I knew his name I +could mention him properly: we have so far neglected to give each other +our names." + +"Monsieur de Merri is my master's name, as far as I know it. I have been +with him only since yesterday." He spoke in a somewhat disgruntled way, +as if not too well satisfied with his new place. + +"So I have heard." I said. "And it seems you were hustled off rather +sooner than you expected, this morning." + +"My master did change his mind suddenly. Yesterday he said he wouldn't +leave Sablé till the end of the week." + +"Yes; but of course when he received the letter--" I stopped, as if not +thinking worth while to finish, and idly scrutinized the floor. + +"What letter, Monsieur?" inquired the fellow, after a moment. + +"Why, the letter that made him change his mind. Didn't you see the +messenger?" + +"Oh, and did that man bring a letter, then?" + +"Certainly. How secretive your master is. The man from--from--where +_did_ he come from, anyhow?" + +"A man came to see my master at Sablé early this morning--the only man I +know of. I heard him say that he had ridden all the way from Montoire, +following my master from one town to another." + +"Yes, that is the man, certainly," said I in as careless a manner as +possible, fearful lest my face should betray the interest of this +revelation to me. "Well, I think I will go and see what has become of my +servant. When you have finished that bottle, drink another to me." I +tossed him a silver piece, and sauntered out. Nicolas was fastening the +saddle girth of my horse in the yard. An ostler was attending to the +mule. The innkeeper was looking on. I asked him about the different +roads leading from the place, and by the time I had got this information +all was ready. We mounted, I replied to the landlord's adieu, threw a +coin to the ostler, and clattered out under the archway. From the square +I turned South to cross the Loir, passing not far from the place where, +surrounded by trees and bushes, the body of my adversary must still be +lying. + +"Poor young man!" said I. "Once we get safe off, I hope they will find +him soon." + +"They will soon be seeking him, at least," replied Nicolas. "Before you +came out of the kitchen, the landlord was wondering to the ostler what +had become of him." + +"As he was to ride on at once, his absence will appear strange. Well, +I'm not sorry to think he will be found before he lies long exposed. The +authorities, no doubt, will take all measures to find out who he is and +notify his people." + +"And to find the person who left him in that state," said Nicolas +fearfully. + +"Well, I have a start, and shall travel as fast as my horse can safely +carry me." + +"But wherever you go, Monsieur, the law will in time come up with you." + +"I have thought of that; and now listen. This is what you are to do. We +shall come very soon to a meeting of roads. You will there turn to the +right--" + +"And leave you, Monsieur Henri?" + +"Yes, it is necessary for my safety." + +"And you will go on to Paris alone?" + +"I am not going to Paris immediately--at least, I shall not go by way of +Le Mans and Chartres, as I had intended. We have already turned our +backs on that road, when we left the square in front of the inn. I shall +go by way of Vendome." Montoire--where the letter had evidently come +from and where therefore the lady probably was--lay on the road to +Vendome. + +"And I, Monsieur?" + +"You are to go back to La Tournoire, but not by the way we have come +over. This road to the right that you will soon take leads first to +Jarzé, and there you will find a road to the West which will bring you +to our own highway not two leagues from home." I repeated these +directions as we left La Flèche behind us, till they seemed firmly +lodged in Nicolas's head. "I don't know how long it will take you to do +this journey," I added, "nor even when you may expect to reach Jarzé. +You mustn't overdo either the mule or yourself. Stop at the first +country inn and get something to eat, before it is too late at night to +be served. Go on to-night as far as you think wise. It may be best, or +necessary, to sleep in some field or wood, not too near the road, as I +shall probably do toward the end of the night." + +"I shall certainly do that, Monsieur. It is a fine night." + +"When you get to La Tournoire, you are to tell my father that I am going +on without an attendant, but by way of Vendome. You needn't say anything +about what you suppose my purpose to be: you needn't repeat what you +heard me say about that lady, or the letter: you aren't to mention the +lady or the letter at all." + +"I understand, Monsieur Henri; but I do hope you will keep out of other +people's troubles. You have enough of your own now, over this unlucky +duel." + +"It's to get me out of that trouble that you are going home. Give my +father a full account of the duel. Tell him the gentleman insulted my +religion as well as myself; that he tried my patience beyond endurance. +My father will understand, I trust. And say that I shall leave it to him +to solicit my pardon of the King. I know he would prefer I should place +the matter all in his hands." + +"Yes, to be sure, Monsieur Henri. And of course to a gentleman who has +served him so well, the King can't refuse anything." + +"He is scarce likely to refuse him that favour, at any rate. My father +will know just what to do; just whom to make his petition through, and +all that. Perhaps he will go to Paris himself about it; or he may send +Blaise Tripault with letters to some of his old friends who are near the +King. But he will do whatever is best. The pardon will doubtless be +obtained before I reach Paris, as I am going by this indirect way and +may stop for awhile in the neighbourhood of Vendome. But I shall +eventually turn up at the inn we were bound for, in the Rue St. Honoré." + +"Yes, Monsieur, and may God land you there safe and sound!" + +"Tell my father that the only name by which I know my antagonist is +Monsieur de Merri. Perhaps he belonged to Montoire; at any rate, he was +acquainted there." + +We soon reached the place where the roads diverge. I took over my +travelling bag and cloak from Nicolas's mule to my horse, hastily +repeated my directions in summary form, supplied him with money, and +showed him his road, he very disconsolate at parting, and myself little +less so. As night was falling, and so much uncertainty lay over my +immediate future, the trial of our spirits was the greater. However, as +soon as he was moving on his way, I turned my horse forward on mine, and +tried, by admiring the stars, to soften the sense of my loneliness and +danger. + +I began to forget the peril of my present situation by thinking of the +affair I had undertaken. In the first place, how to find the lady? All I +knew of her was that she was probably at Montoire, that she had been +associated in some way with Monsieur de Merri, and that she now thought +herself in imminent danger. And I had in my possession a piece of her +handwriting, which, however, I should have to use very cautiously if at +all. There was, indeed, little to start with toward the task of finding +her out, but, as Montoire could not be a large place, I need not +despair. I would first, I thought, inquire about Monsieur de Merri and +what ladies were of his acquaintance. If Monsieur de Merri himself was +of Montoire, and had people living there, my presence would be a great +risk. I could not know how soon the news of his death might reach them +after my own arrival at the place, nor how close a description would be +given of his slayer--for there was little doubt that the innkeeper would +infer the true state of affairs on the discovery of the body. The dead +man's people would be clamorous for justice and the officers would be on +their mettle. Even if I might otherwise tarry in Montoire unsuspected, +my insinuating myself into the acquaintance of one of Monsieur de +Merri's friends would in itself be a suspicious move. The more I +considered the whole affair, the more foolish seemed my chosen course. +And yet I could not bear to think of that unknown lady in such great +fear, with perhaps none to aid her: though, indeed, since none but +Monsieur de Merri could save her honour and life, how could I do so? +Well, I could offer my services, at least; perhaps she meant she had +nobody else on whose willingness she could count; perhaps she really +could make as good use of me as of him. But on what pretext could I +offer myself? How could I account to her for my knowledge of her affairs +and for Monsieur de Merri's inability to come to her? To present myself +as his slayer would not very well recommend my services to her. Would +she, indeed, on any account accept my services? And even if she did, was +I clever enough to get her out of the situation she was in, whatever +that might be? Truly the whole case was a cloud. Well, I must take each +particular by itself as I came to it; be guided by circumstance, and +proceed with delicacy. The first thing to do was to find out who the +lady was; and even that could not be done till I got to Montoire, which, +being near Vendome, must be at least two days' journey from La Flèche. + +As I thought how much in the dark was the business I had taken on +myself, my mind suddenly reverted to the first of the monk's three +maxims that Blaise Tripault had given me, which now lay folded in my +pocket, close to the lady's note. + +"_Never undertake a thing unless you can see your way to the end of +it._" + +I could not help smiling to think how soon chance had led me to violate +this excellent rule. But I am not likely to be confronted again by such +circumstances, thought I, and this affair once seen through, I shall be +careful; while the other maxims, being more particular, are easier to +obey, and obey them I certainly will. + +I rode on till near midnight, and then, for the sake of the horse as +well as the rider, I turned out of the road at a little stream, +unsaddled among some poplar trees, and lay down, with my travelling bag +for pillow, and my cloak for bed and blanket. The horse, left to his +will, chose to lie near me; and so, in well-earned sleep, we passed the +rest of the night. + +The next morning, when we were on the road again, I decided to exchange +talk with as many travellers as possible who were going my way, in the +hope of falling in with one who knew Montoire. At a distance from the +place, I might more safely be inquisitive about Monsieur de Merri and +his friendships than at Montoire itself. The news of what had happened +at La Flèche would not have come along the road any sooner than I had +done, except by somebody who had travelled by night and had passed me +while I slept. In the unlikelihood of there being such a person, I could +speak of Monsieur de Merri without much danger of suspicion. But even if +there was such a person, and the news had got ahead, nobody could be +confident in suspecting me. I was not the only young gentleman of my +appearance, mounted on a horse like mine, to be met on the roads that +day. And besides, I was no longer attended by a servant on a mule, as I +had been at La Flèche. So I determined to act with all freedom, accost +whom I chose, and speak boldly. + +Passing early through Le Lude, I breakfasted at last, and talked with +various travellers, both on the road and at the inn there, but none of +them showed any such interest, when I casually introduced the name of +Montoire, as a dweller of that place must have betrayed. To bring in the +name of the town was easy enough. As thus:--in the neighbourhood of Le +Lude one had only to mention the fine chateau there, and after admiring +it, to add: "They say there is one very like it, at some other town +along this river--I forget which--is it Montoire?--or La Chartre?--I +have never travelled this road before." A man of Montoire, or who knew +that town well, would have answered with certainty, and have added +something to show his acquaintance there. The chateau of Le Lude served +me in this manner all the way to Vaas, where there is a great church, +which answered my purpose thence to Chateau du Loir. But though I threw +out my conversational bait to dozens of people, of all conditions, not +one bite did I get anywhere on the road between Le Lude and La Chartre. + +It was evening when I arrived at La Chartre, and I was now thirteen +leagues from La Flèche, thanks to having journeyed half the previous +night. Anybody having left La Flèche that morning would be satisfied +with a day's journey of nine leagues to Chateau du Loir, the last +convenient stopping-place before La Chartre. So I decided to stay at La +Chartre for the night, and give my horse the rest he needed. + +At the inn I talked to everybody I could lay hold of, dragging in the +name of Montoire, all to no purpose, until I began to think the +inhabitants of Montoire must be the most stay-at-home people, and their +town the most unvisited town, in the world. In this manner, in the +kitchen after supper, I asked a fat bourgeois whether the better place +for me to break my next day's journey for dinner would be Troo or +Montoire. + +"I know no better than you," he replied with a shrug. + +"Pardon, Monsieur; I think you will find the better inn at Montoire," +put in a voice behind my shoulder. I turned and saw, seated on a stool +with his back to the wall, a bright-looking, well-made young fellow who +might, from his dress, have been a lawyer's clerk, or the son of a +tradesman, but with rather a more out-of-doors appearance than is +usually acquired in an office or shop. + +"Ah," said I, "you know those towns, then?" + +"I live at Montoire," said he, interestedly, as if glad to get into +conversation. "There is a fine public square there, you will see." + +"But it is rather a long ride before dinner, isn't it?" + +"Only about five leagues. I shall ride there for dinner to-morrow, at +all events." + +"You are returning home, then?" + +"Yes, Monsieur." + +"Have you been far away?" + +"That is as one may think," he replied after a moment's hesitation, +during which he seemed to decide it best to evade the question. His +travels were none of my business, and I cared not how secretive he might +be upon them. But to teach him a lesson in openness, I said: + +"I have travelled from Le Lude to-day." + +"And I too," said he, with his former interest. + +"I didn't see you at the inn there," said I. "You must have left early +this morning." + +"Yes, after arriving late last night. Yesterday evening I was at La +Flèche." + +I gave an inward start; but said quietly enough: "Ah?--and yet you talk +as if you had slept at Le Lude." + +"So I did. I travelled part of the night." + +"And arrived at Le Lude before midnight, perhaps?" + +"Yes, a little before. Luckily, the innkeeper happened to be up, and he +let me in." + +I breathed more freely. This young man must have left La Flèche before I +had: he could know nothing of the man slain. + +"There is a good inn at La Flèche," I said, to continue the talk. + +"No doubt. I stopped only a short while, at a small house at the edge of +the town. I was in some haste." + +"Then you will be starting early to-morrow?" + +"Yes, Monsieur." + +I resolved to be watchful and start at the same time. But lest he should +have other company, or something should interfere, I decided not to lose +the present opportunity. So I began forthwith: + +"I have met a gentleman who comes, I think, from Montoire, or at least +is acquainted there,--a Monsieur de Merri, of about my own age." + +The young fellow looked at me with a sudden sharpness of curiosity, +which took me back: but I did not change countenance, and he had +repossessed himself by the time he replied: + +"There is a Monsieur de Merri, who is about as old as you, but he does +not live at Montoire. He sometimes comes there." + +Here was comfort, at least: I should not find myself among the dead +man's relations, seeking vengeance. + +"No doubt he has friends there?" I ventured. + +"No doubt, Monsieur," answered the young man, merely out of politeness, +and looking vague. + +"Probably he visits people in the neighbourhood," I tried again. + +"I cannot say," was the reply, still more absently given. + +"Or lives at the inn," I pursued. + +"It may be so." The young fellow was now glancing about the kitchen, as +if to rid himself of this talk. + +"Or perhaps he dwells in private lodgings when he is at Montoire," I +went on resolutely. + +"It might well be. There are private lodgings to be had there." + +"Do you know much of this Monsieur de Merri?" I asked pointblank, in +desperation. + +"I have seen him two or three times." + +"Where?" + +"Where? At Montoire, of course." The speaker, in surprise, scrutinized +me again with the keen look he had shown before. + +It was plain, from his manner, that he chose to be close-mouthed on the +subject of Monsieur de Merri. He was one of those people who generally +have a desire to talk of themselves and all their affairs, but who can +be suddenly very secretive on some particular matter or occasion. I saw +that I must give him up, for that time at least. Perhaps on the road +next day his unwillingness to be communicative about Monsieur de Merri +would have passed away. But meanwhile, what was the cause of that +unwillingness? Did he know, after all, what had occurred at La Flèche, +and had he begun to suspect me? I inwardly cursed his reticence, and +went soon to bed, that I might rise the earlier. + +But early as I rose, my young friend had beaten me. The ostler to whom I +described him said he had ridden off half-an-hour ago. In no very +amiable mood, I rode after him. Not till the forenoon was half spent, +did I catch up. He saluted me politely, and gave me his views of the +weather, but was not otherwise talkative. We rode together pleasantly +enough, but there was no more of that openness in him which would have +made me feel safe in resuming the subject of Monsieur de Merri. As we +approached noon and our destination, I asked him about the different +families of consequence living thereabouts, and he mentioned several +names and circumstances, but told me nothing from which I could infer +the possibility of danger to any of their ladies. It was toward mid-day +when we rode into the great square of Montoire, and found ourselves +before the inn of the Three Kings. + +I turned to take leave of my travelling companion, thinking that as he +belonged to this town he would go on to his own house. + +"I'm going to stop here for a glass of wine and to leave my horse +awhile," he said, noticing my movement. + +He followed me through the archway. A stout innkeeper welcomed me, saw +me dismount, and then turned to my young fellow-traveller, speaking with +good-natured familiarity: + +"Ah, my child, so you are back safe after your journey. Let us see, how +long have you been away? Since Sunday morning--four days and a half. I +might almost guess where you've been, from the time--for all the secret +you make of it." + +The young man laughed perfunctorily, and led his horse to the stable +after the ostler who had taken mine. + +"A pleasant young man," said I, staying with the landlord. "He lives in +this town, he tells me." + +"Yes, an excellent youth. He owns his bit of land, and though his father +was a miller, his children may come near being gentlemen." + +I went into the kitchen, and ordered dinner. Presently my young man +entered and had his wine, which he poured down quickly. He then bowed to +me, and went away, like one who wishes to lose no time. + +Suddenly the whole probability of the case appeared to me in a flash. +Regardless of the wine before me, and of the dinner I had ordered, I +rose and followed him. + +I had put together his reticence about Monsieur de Merri, his having +been away from Montoire just four and a half days, the direction of his +journey, and his errand to be done immediately on returning. He must be +the messenger who had carried the lady's note to Sablé, and he was now +going to report its delivery and, perhaps, Monsieur de Merri's answer. +If I could dog his steps unseen, he would lead me to the lady who was in +danger. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +WHO THE LADY WAS + + +By the time I was in the court-yard, the messenger was walking out of +the archway. By the time I was at the outer end of the archway, he was +well on his way toward one of the streets that go from the square. I +waited in the shelter of the archway till he had got into that +street--or road, I should say, for it soon leaves the town, proceeding +straight in a South-easterly direction for about half a league through +the country. As soon as he was out of the square, I was after him, +stepping so lightly I could scarce hear my own footfalls. He walked +rapidly, and as one who does not think of turning to look behind, a fact +which I observed with comfort. + +If he was indeed the messenger, he must have been content with a very +short rest for his horse after delivering the note to Monsieur de +Merri;--must have started from Sablé as soon as, or little later than, +Monsieur de Merri himself, to be in La Flèche on the same evening that +gentleman arrived there, and to be out of it again before I was, as he +must have been if he reached Le Lude by midnight. Perhaps he was passing +through La Flèche at the very time the duel was going on; but the sum of +all was, that he could not know Monsieur de Merri was killed, and this I +felt to be fortunate for me. + +Another thought which I had while following him along the straight white +road that day, was that if the lady could command the services of this +able young fellow to bear a message so far, why could she not use him +directly for the saving of her life and honour? Evidently there was a +reason why mere zeal and ability would not suffice. Perhaps the +necessary service was one in which only a gentleman could be accepted. +But I feared rather that there might be some circumstance to make +Monsieur de Merri the only possible instrument; and my heart fell at +this, thinking what I had done. But I hoped for the best, and did not +lose sight of the young man ahead of me. + +After we had walked about twenty minutes, the road crossed a bridge and +rose to the gates of a chateau which had at one corner a very high old +tower. In front of the chateau, the road turned off sharply to the left. +A few small houses constituted such a village as one often sees huddled +about the feet of great castles. A drawbridge, which I could see between +the gate towers, indicated that the chateau and its immediate grounds +were surrounded by a moat. The messenger did not approach the gates, nor +did he follow the road to its turning. He disappeared down a lane to the +right. + +When I got to the lane, he had already passed out of it at the other +end. I hastened through, and caught sight of him in the open fields that +lay along the side wall of the chateau. Near the outer edge of the moat, +grew tangled bushes, and I noticed that he kept close to these, as if to +be out of sight from the chateau. At a distance ahead, skirting the rear +of the chateau enclosure, stretched the green profile of what appeared +to be a deep forest. It was this which my unconscious guide was +approaching. I soon reached the bushes by the fosse, and used them for +my own concealment in following him. When he came to the edge of the +forest, at a place near a corner of the wall environing the chateau +grounds, what did he do but stop before the first tree--a fine oak--and +proceed to climb up it? I crouched among the bushes, and looked on. + +When he gained the boughs he worked his way out on one that extended +toward the moat. From that height he could see across the wall. He took +a slender pole that had been concealed among the branches, tied a +handkerchief thereto, and ran it out so that the bit of white could be +seen against the leaves. + +"Oho! a signal!" said I to myself. + +Keeping the handkerchief in its position, he waited. I know not just +what part of an hour went by. I listened to the birds and sometimes to +the soft sound of a gentle breeze among the tree tops of the forest. + +At last the handkerchief suddenly disappeared, and my man came quickly +down the tree. Watching the chateau beyond the walls, he had evidently +seen the person approach for whom he had hung out his signal. He now +stood waiting under the tree. My heart beat fast. + +I heard a creaking sound, and saw a little postern open in the wall, +near the tree. A girl appeared, ran nimbly across a plank that spanned +the moat, and into the arms of my young man. + +Could this, then, be the woman whose life and honour was in peril? No, +for though she had some beauty, I could see at a glance that she was a +dependent. Moreover, her face shone gaily at sight of the messenger, and +she gave herself to his embrace with smothered laughter. But a moment +later, she attended seriously, and with much concern, to what he had to +say, of which I could hear nothing. I then saw what the case was: this +was a serving-maid whom the endangered lady had taken into confidence, +and who had impressed her lover into service to carry that lady's +message. The lady herself must be in that chateau,--perhaps a prisoner. +My first step must be to find out who were the dwellers in the chateau, +and as much of their affairs as the world could tell me. + +The interview between the two young people was not long. It ended in +another embrace; the girl ran back over the plank, waved her hand at her +lover, and disappeared, the postern door closing after her. The young +man, with a last tender look at the door, hastened back as he had come. +I had to crawl suddenly under some low bushes to avoid his sight, making +a noise which caused him to stop within six feet of me. But I suppose he +ascribed the sound to some bird or animal, for he soon went on again. + +I lay still for some time, being under no further necessity of observing +him. I then walked back to the inn at Montoire at a leisurely pace. +Looking into the stables when I arrived, I saw that the messenger's +horse was gone. He lived, as I afterwards learned from the innkeeper, on +another road than that which led to the chateau. I suppose he had chosen +to go afoot to the chateau for the sake of easier concealment. + +The innkeeper was looking amazed and injured, at my having gone away and +let my dinner spoil. + +"I was taken with a sudden sickness," I explained. "There's nothing like +a walk in the fresh air when the stomach is qualmish. I am quite well +now. I'll have another dinner, just what I ordered before." + +As this meant my paying for two dinners, the landlord was soon restored +to good-nature. He was a cheerful, hearty soul, and as communicative as +I could desire. + +"That is a strong chateau about half a league yonder," I said to him, as +I sipped his excellent white wine. + +"Yes, the Chateau de Lavardin," he replied. "Strong?--yes, indeed." + +"Who lives there?" + +"The Count de Lavardin." + +"What sort of man is he?" + +"What sort? Well!--an old man, for one thing,--or growing old. Or maybe +you mean, what does he look like?" + +"Yes, of course." + +"A lean old grey wolf, I have heard him likened to--without offence, of +course. Yes, he is a thin old man, but of great strength, for all that." + +"Is he a good landlord?" + +"Oh, he is not my landlord," said the innkeeper, looking as if he would +have added "Thank God!" but for the sake of prudence. "No; his estate is +very large, but it extends in the other direction from Montoire." + +"Is he a pleasant neighbour, then?" + +"Oh, I have no fault to find, for my part. One mustn't believe all the +grumblers. You may hear it said of him that his smile is more frightful +than another man's rage. But people will say things, you know, when they +think they have grievances." + +I fancied that the innkeeper shared this opinion which he attributed to +the grumblers, and took satisfaction in getting it expressed, though too +cautious to father it himself. + +"Then he has no great reputation for benevolence?" + +"Oh, I don't say that. We must take what we hear, with a grain of salt. +He is certainly one of the great noblemen of this neighbourhood; +certainly a brave man. You will hear silly talk, of course: how that he +is a man whose laugh makes one think of dungeon chains and the rack. But +some people will give vent to their envy of the great." + +I shuddered inwardly, to think that my undertaking might bring me across +the path of a man as sinister and formidable as these bits of +description seemed to indicate. + +"What family has he?" I asked, trying the more to seem indifferent as I +came closer to the point. + +"No family. His children are all dead. Some foolish folk say he expected +too much of them, and tried to bring them up too severely, as if they +had been Spartans. But that is certainly a slander, for his eldest son +was killed in battle in the last civil war." + +"Then he has no daughter--or grand-daughter--or niece, perhaps?" + +"Not that I know of. Why do you ask, Monsieur?" + +"I thought I saw a lady at one of the windows," said I, inventing. + +"No doubt. It must have been his wife. She would be the only lady +there." + +"Oh, but this was surely a young lady," I said, clinging to my +preconceptions. + +"Certainly. His new wife is young. The children I spoke of were by his +first wife, poor woman! Oh, yes, his new wife is young--beautiful too, +they say." + +"And how do she and the Count agree together, being rather unevenly +matched?" + +"That is the question. Nobody sees much of their life. She never comes +out of the grounds of the chateau, except to church sometimes, when she +looks neither to the right nor to the left." + +"But who are her people, to have arranged her marriage with such a man?" + +"Oh. I believe she has no people. An orphan, whom he took out of a +convent. A gentlewoman, yes, but of obscure family." + +"I can't suppose she is very happy." + +"Who knows, Monsieur? They do say the old wolf--I mean the Count, +Monsieur,--we are sometimes playful in our talk here at Montoire,--they +say he is terribly jealous. They say that is why he keeps her so close. +Of course I know nothing of it.--You noticed, perhaps, that the moat was +full of water. The drawbridge is up half the time. One would suppose the +Civil wars were back again. To be sure, some people hint that there may +be another reason for all that: but I, for one, take no interest in +politics." + +"You mean the Count is thought to be one of those who are disaffected +toward the King?" + +"H-sh, Monsieur! We mustn't say such things. If idle whispers go around, +we can't help hearing them; but as for repeating them, or believing +them, that's another matter. I mention only what all can see--that the +Chateau de Lavardin is kept very much closed against company. The saying +is, that it's as hard to get into the Chateau de Lavardin nowadays as +into heaven. It's very certain, the Count has no welcome for strangers." + +And yet somehow I should have to get into the chateau, and obtain +private speech with the Countess,--for it must be she who had summoned +Monsieur de Merri. + +"In that case," said I, "they must have no visitors at all. But I recall +meeting a young gentleman the other day, who was acquainted with some +great family near Montoire, and, from certain things, I think it must be +this very Lavardin family. He was a Monsieur de Merri." + +"Ah, yes. He has stayed at this inn. It was here the Count met him, one +day when the Count was returning from the hunt. The Count was thirsty +and stopped to drink, and the young gentleman began to talk with him +about the hounds. At that time half the Count's pack were suffering from +a strange disease, which threatened the others. When the Count described +the disease, Monsieur de Merri said he knew all about it and could cure +it. The Count took him to the chateau, where he stayed a fortnight, for +you see, however jealous the count may be of his wife, he cares more for +his hounds. Monsieur de Merri cured them, and that is how he got +admission to the Chateau de Lavardin. But besides him and the red +Captain, there aren't many who can boast of that privilege." + +"The red Captain? Who is he?" + +"Captain Ferragant. He is a friend of the Count's, who comes to the +chateau sometimes and makes long visits there. Where he comes from, of +what he does when he is elsewhere, I cannot tell. He is at the chateau +now, I believe." + +"Why did you call him the red Captain?" + +"The people have given him that name. He has a great red splash down one +side of his face. They say it was caused by a burn." + +"Received in the wars, perhaps." + +"No doubt. He has fought under many banners, it is said. Some declare he +still keeps his company together, always ready for the highest bidder; +but if that's true, I don't know where he keeps it, or how he does so +without a loss when not at the wars. It is true, he brings a suite of +sturdy fellows when he comes to Lavardin; but not enough to make what +you would call a company." + +"Perhaps he has made his fortune and retired." + +"He's not an old man, Monsieur, though he is the friend of the Count. He +is at the prime of life, I should say. A tall, strong man. He would be +handsome but for the red stamp on his face. He has great influence over +the Count. They drink, hunt, and play together. In many ways they are +alike. The red Captain, too, has a smile that some people are afraid of, +and a laugh that is merciless, but they are broad and bold, if you can +understand what I mean,--not like the wily chuckle of the Count. He has +big, ferocious eyes, too; while the Count's are small and half-closed. +If people will fear those two men because of their looks, I can't for my +life say which is to be feared the more." + +"A pleasant pair for anybody to come in conflict with," said I, as +lightly as I could. + +"Yes, Monsieur, and seeing that strangers are so unwelcome there, you +will do well to pass by the Chateau de Lavardin without stopping to +exchange compliments." With a jocular smile, the innkeeper went about +his business, while I finished my dinner with a mind full of misgivings. + +I rose from the table, left the inn, and walked back, by the straight +road of half a league, to Lavardin, pondering on the problem before me. +It was a natural feeling that I might come by an inspiration more +probably in the presence of the chateau than away from it. There was a +little cabaret in the village, in full sight of the chateau gates, and +just far enough back from the road to give room for two small tables in +front. At one of these tables a man was already sitting, so I took +possession of the other and called for a bottle of wine. I then sat +there, slowly sipping, with my eyes on the chateau, hoping that by +contemplation thereof, or perhaps by some occurrence thereabout, I might +arrive at some idea of how to proceed. The drawbridge was not up, but +the gates were closed. From where I sat, I could see the gate towers, a +part of the outer wall, the turreted top of the chateau itself beyond +the court, and the great high tower, which looked very ancient and +sombre. But the more I looked, the more nearly impossible it appeared +that I could devise means of getting into the place and to the ear of +the Countess. + +As I was gazing at the chateau, I had a feeling that the man at the +other table was gazing at me. I glanced at him, but seemed to have been +mistaken. He was looking absently at the sky over my head. I now took +thought of what a very silent, motionless, undemonstrative man this was. +He was thin and oldish, and of moderate stature, with a narrow face, +pale eyes, and a very long nose. He was dressed in dull brown cloth, and +was in all respects--save his length of nose--one of those persons of +whom nobody ever takes much note. And he in turn did not seem to take +much note of the world. He looked at the sky, the house roofs and the +road, but his thoughts did not appear to concern themselves with these +things, or with anything, unless with the wine which he, like myself, +sipped in a leisurely manner. + +I dismissed him from my attention, and resumed my observation of the +chateau. But nobody came nor went, the gates did not open, nothing +happened to give me an idea. When I looked again at the other table, the +long-nosed man was gone. It was as if he had simply melted away. + +"Who was the man sitting there?" I asked the woman of the cabaret. + +"I don't know, Monsieur. He arrived here this morning. I never saw him +before to-day." + +In the evening I went back to Montoire, no nearer the solution of my +problem than before. Nor did a sleepless night help me any: I formed a +dozen fantastic schemes, only to reject every one of them as impossible. +What made all this worse, was the consideration that time might be of +the utmost importance in the affairs of the imperilled lady. + +The next morning I went to view the chateau from other points than the +village cabaret. This time I took the way the messenger had led +me,--turned down the lane, and traversed the fields by the moat. I sat +where I had hid the day before; staring at the postern and the wall, +over which birds flew now and then, indicating that there was a garden +on the other side. Receiving no suggestion here, I took up my station at +the tree from which the messenger had shown the handkerchief. I thought +of climbing it, to see over the wall. But just as I had formed my +resolution, I happened to glance over the fields and see a man strolling +idly along near the edge of the moat. As he came nearer, I recognized +him as the long-nosed gentleman in the brown doublet and hose. + +He saw me, and gazed, in his absent way, with a momentary curiosity. +Angry at being caught almost in the act of spying out the land, I +hastened off, passing between the rear wall and the forest which grew +nearly to the moat, and to which the tree itself belonged. In this way, +I soon left my long-nosed friend behind, and came out on the opposite +side of the chateau. + +Here I found a hillock, from the top of which I could see more of the +chateau proper and the other contents of the great walled enclosure. I +sat for some time regarding them, but the towers, turrets, roofs, +windows, and tree tops engendered no project in my mind. + +Suddenly I heard a low, discreet cough behind me, and, looking around, +saw the long-nosed man standing not six feet away. + +The sight gave me a start, for I had neither heard nor seen him +approach, though the way I had come was within my field of vision. He +must have made a wide circle through the woods. + +His mild eyes were upon me. "Good morning, Monsieur," said he, in a dry, +small voice. + +"Good morning," said I, rather ungraciously. + +He came close to me, and said, with a faint look of amusement: + +"May I tell you what is your chief thought at present, Monsieur?" + +After a moment, I deemed it best to answer, "If you wish." + +"It is that you would give half the money in your purse to get into that +chateau yonder." + +At first I could only look astonishment. Then I considered it wise to +take his remark as a joke; accordingly I laughed, and asked, "How do you +know that?" + +"Oh, I have observed you yesterday and to-day. You have a very eloquent +countenance, Monsieur. Well, I don't blame you for wishing you could get +over those walls. I have been young myself: I know what an attraction a +pretty maid is." + +So he thought it was some love affair with a lady's maid that lay behind +the wish he had divined in me. I saw no reason to undeceive him; so I +merely said, "And what is all this to you, Monsieur?" + +"Hum!--that depends," he replied. "Tell me first, are you known to the +Count de Lavardin or his principal people--by sight, I mean?" + +"Neither by sight nor otherwise." + +"Good! Excellent!" said the man, looking really pleased. "I dared hope +as much, when the woman at the cabaret said you were a stranger. What is +all this to me? you ask. Well, as I have taken the liberty to read your +thoughts, I will be frank with you in regard to my own. I also have a +desire to see the inside of that chateau, and, as I haven't the honour +of the Count's acquaintance, and he is very suspicious of strangers, I +must resort to my devices. My reasons for wanting to be admitted yonder +are my own secret, but I assure you they won't conflict with yours. So, +as I have been studying you a little, and think you a gentleman to be +trusted, I propose that we shall help each other, as far as our object +is the same. In other words, Monsieur, if you will do as I say, I +believe we may both find ourselves freely admitted to the Chateau de +Lavardin before this day is over. Once inside, each shall go about his +purposes without any concern for the other. What do you think of it, +Monsieur?" + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +THE CHATEAU DE LAVARDIN + + +All that I could think was that, if genuine, the offer came as a most +unexpected piece of good luck, and that, if it was a trick, my +acceptance of it could not much add to the danger which attended my +purpose at best. In any case, this man already had me under scrutiny. +So, after some little display of surprise and doubt, I took him at his +word, inwardly reserving the right to draw back if I found myself +entering a trap. The man's very proposal involved craft as against the +master of the chateau, but toward me he seemed to be acting with the +utmost simplicity and honesty, so straightforward and free from +excessive protestation he was. + +He led me away to a quiet, secluded place by the riverside, out of sight +of the chateau, that we might talk the matter over in safety. And first +he asked me what I knew of the disposition and habits of the Count de +Lavardin. I told him as much as the innkeeper had told me. + +"Hum!" said he, reflectively; "it agrees with what I have heard. I have +been pumping people a little, in a harmless way. The first thing I +learned was the Count's churlish practice of closing his gates to +strangers, which forces us to use art in obtaining the hospitality we +are entitled to by general custom. So I had to discover some inclination +or hobby of the man's, that I could make use of to approach him. I don't +see how we can reach him through his love of dogs, without having +prepared ourselves with special knowledge and a fine hound or so to +attract his attention. As for his jealousy, it would be too hazardous to +play upon that: besides, I shouldn't like to cook up a tale about his +wife, unless put to it." + +"Monsieur, don't speak of such a thing," I said indignantly. + +"No, it wouldn't do. I can't think of a better plan than the one that +first occurred to me. As it required a confederate, I put it aside. But +when I observed you yesterday regarding the chateau so wistfully, I said +to myself, 'No doubt heaven has sent this young man to help me, and that +I in turn may help him.' But I waited to make sure, watching you last +night and this morning till I was convinced of your desire to get into +the chateau." + +It was a surprise to me to learn that I had been watched, but I took it +coolly. + +"The plan I had thought of," he went on, "required that my confederate +should be unknown to the Count and those near him. When I find that you, +who are anxious for your own reasons to enter the chateau, fulfil that +requirement, I can only think the more that heaven has brought us +together. It is more than heaven usually does for one." + +"But what else does your plan require of me?" I asked, impatient to know +what must be faced. + +"You play chess, of course?" was his interrogative answer. + +"A little," said I, wondering what that had to do with the case. + +"Then all is fair ahead of us. Luckily. I play rather well myself. As I +said just now, I have been nosing among the people--nosing is a good +word in my case, isn't it?"--he pointed to his much-extended +proboscis--"I have been nosing about to learn the Count's ruling +passions and so forth. When you have anybody to hoodwink, or obtain +access to without creating suspicion, find out what are his likings and +preoccupations: be sure there will be something there of which you can +avail yourself. From the village priest I learned that, along with his +fondness for hunting and drinking and the lower forms of gaming, the +Count has a taste for more intellectual amusements, and chiefly for the +game of chess. He is a most excellent player, and doesn't often find a +worthy antagonist. His bosom friend, one Captain Ferragant, who is now +living at the chateau, has no skill at chess, so the Count has been put +to sending for this priest to come and play a game now and then, but the +Count beats him too easily for any pleasure and the result of their +games is that the Count only curses the rarity of good chess-players." + +"And so you think of proposing a game with him?" + +"Not exactly," said the long-nosed man, with a faint smile at my +simplicity. "An obscure man like me, travelling without a servant, +doesn't propose games to a great nobleman, at the great nobleman's own +gates. The great nobleman may condescend to invite, but the obscure +traveller may not presume to offer himself,--not, at least, without +creating wonder and some curiosity as to his motives. No; that would be +too direct, moreover. It would suggest that I had been inquisitive about +him, to have learned that he is fond of chess. I may tell you that the +Count has his reasons for imagining that strangers may come trying to +get access to him, who have taken pains to learn something of his ways +beforehand. He has his reasons for suspecting every stranger who seeks +to enter his gates. No; we must neither show any knowledge of him, more +than his name, nor any desire to get into his house. We must play upon +his hobby without openly appealing to it. That is why two of us are +necessary. This is what we will do." + +I listened with great interest, surprised to discover what acuteness of +mind was hidden behind the pale, meek eyes and un-expressive pasty +countenance of this man with the long nose. + +"In an hour or so from now," he said, "I shall be sitting before the +cabaret, where you saw me yesterday. You will come there, from wandering +about the fields, and we will greet each other as having met casually on +our walks this morning--as indeed we actually have met. You will sit +down to refresh yourself with a bottle of wine, and we shall get into +conversation, like the strangers that we are to each other. The people +of the cabaret will hear us, more or less, and the porter at the chateau +gates will doubtless observe us. I will presently lead the talk to the +subject of chess. You will profess to be ardently devoted to the game. I +will show an equally great passion for it. We will express much regret +that we have no chessmen with us, and will inquire if any can be +obtained in the village. I know already that none can be: the priest +once owned a set, but he let the village children use them as toys and +they are broken up. Well, then, rather than lose the opportunity of +encountering a first-class player, you will suggest that we try to +borrow chessmen from the owner of that great chateau, who must surely +possess such things, as no great house is ever without them. You will +thereupon write a note to the Count, saying we are two gentlemen who +have met on our travels, and both claiming to be skilled chess-players, +and hating to part without a trial of prowess, but lacking chessmen, we +take upon ourselves to ask if he may have such a thing as a set which he +will allow us the use of for half a day; and so forth. We will bid the +woman at the cabaret take this note to the porter; and then we have but +to await the result." + +"And what will that be?" + +"We shall see when it comes," said the man tranquilly. I know not +whether he really felt the serene confidence he showed; but he seemed to +be going on the sure ground of past experience. "It will be necessary to +give names and some account of ourselves, no doubt, before all is done. +We shall not be expected to know anything of each other, having only met +as travellers so recently. To the Count I will call myself Monsieur de +Pepicot, a poor gentleman of Amiens. As for you, is there any reason why +you shouldn't use your own name? When you want to deceive anybody, it is +well to be strictly truthful as far as your object will permit." + +"The only reason is, that I may get into the Count's bad graces by what +I may do in his house, and it would be better if he didn't know where to +look for me afterwards." + +"Well, there's something in that. The Count is not a forgiving man. And +yet, as to his power of revenge, I know not--Well, do as you please." + +"Oh, devil take it, I'll go under my own name, let come what may! I +don't like the idea of masquerading." + +"A brave young gentleman! Then there's no more to be said. When we are +inside the chateau, it will be each of us for himself, though of course +we must keep up the comedy of wishing to play chess. Meet me by chance +at the cabaret, then, in about an hour." + +Without any more ado, he left me. Coming forth from the concealed place +a minute later, I saw him strolling along the river, looking at the +fields and the sky, as if nothing else were on his mind. I presently +imitated him, but went in another direction. In due time I made my way +to the cabaret, and there he was, at the table where I had first seen +him. + +We spoke to each other as had been arranged, and easily carried the +conversation to the desired point, mostly in the hearing of the woman of +the cabaret as she sat knitting by the door. When it came to writing the +note, the long-nosed man tore a leaf of paper out of his pocket book, +and had pen and ink fetched from his lodging over the cabaret; I then +composed our request in as courteous phrases as I thought suitable. The +woman herself carried the note to the chateau gates, and we saw a grated +wicket open, and a scowling fellow show his face there, who questioned +her, glanced at us with no friendly look, took the note, and closed the +wicket. We waited half an hour or so, sipping our wine and talking +carelessly, till I imagined the long-nosed man was becoming a little +doubtful. But just as he was losing his placidity so far as to cross one +leg over another, the chateau gate opened, and a heavy, dark-browed +fellow with the appearance rather of a soldier than of a servant, came +out, and over to us, scrutinizing us keenly as he approached. He asked +if we were the gentlemen who had written to borrow a set of chessmen. +Being so informed, he said: + +"Monsieur the Count, my master, begs to be excused from sending his +chessmen to you, but if you will come to them he will be glad to judge +of your playing; and perhaps to offer the winner a bout with himself." + +We took half a minute to evince our pleased surprise, our sense of +favour, and so forth, at this courteous invitation,--and then we +followed the servant to the chateau. It was amusing to see how +innocently, decorously, and consciously of unexpected honour my +long-nosed friend walked through the gateway, and gazed with childlike +admiration around the court-yard and the grey façade of the chateau +confronting us. + +A few wide steps led up to the arched door, which admitted us to a large +hall plentifully furnished with tables, benches, and finely-carved +chairs. It was panelled in oak and hung with arms, boars' heads, and +other trophies. At the upper end of a long table, the one leaning +forward from a chair at the head, the other from the bench at the side, +lounged two men, whom I recognized instantly from the descriptions of +the innkeeper as if from painted portraits. They were the Count de +Lavardin and Captain Ferragant. + +Yes, there was the "lean old grey wolf," grey not only in his bristly +hair and short pointed beard, but even in the general hue of his wizen +face; grey as to the little eyes that peered out between their narrowed +slits; grey even, on this occasion, as to his velvet doublet and +breeches. Though his face was wizen, the leanness of his body had no +appearance of weakness, but rather every sign of strength. I noticed +that his fingers seemed to possess great crunching power, and there was +always on his face the faint beginning of a smile which, I thought, +would heighten into glee when those fingers were in the act of +strangling somebody. + +As for the Captain, there was indeed a great blotch of deep red across +his cheek; he was a large, powerful fellow, with a bold, insolent face, +and fierce, pitiless eyes. To make his sobriquet the fitter, he wore a +suit of crimson, very rich and ornate. His beard and hair, however, were +black. + +"You are welcome, gentlemen," said the Count, in a harsh, thin voice. +"From what part do you come?" + +"From different parts," said my long-nosed companion. "We have only met +as strangers going opposite ways. I am Monsieur de Pepicot, of the +neighbourhood of Amiens, travelling to Angers to see some kinsfolk." + +The Count turned to me, and I recited my name and place, adding that I +was going to Paris, to see a little of the world, and therefore +journeying somewhat indirectly. + +"And behold here Monsieur the Captain Ferragant, who comes from +Burgundy," said the Count, "so that we have North, West, and East all +represented." + +Captain Ferragant bowed as politeness required, but he went no further. +He did not seem to relish our being there. His look was rather +disdainful, I thought, as if we were nobodies unfit for the honour of +his company. And very soon, while the Count was saying we must stay to +dinner, as there was not time for a game of chess before, the Captain +walked away and out of the hall. Seeing that we were to be his guests +for the day, the Count had us shown to a rather remote chamber up two +flights of stairs, where water was brought, and where we were left alone +together. The chamber looked out on a small part of the garden at the +rear of the chateau. + +"Well," said I, washing my hands, "you have played the magician. It has +been as easy as walking, to get into the chateau." + +"Will it be easy to get out again, when our business is done, I wonder?" +replied Monsieur de Pepicot, gazing out of the window at the distant +high wall of the garden. + +"Why do you say that?" I asked, a little surprised at his tone. + +"Oh, I was thinking of the manner in which the gate slammed to, after we +had entered. It is a mere inanimate gate, to be sure, but it was slammed +by a porter, and his manner of slamming it might unconsciously express +what was in his mind. You remember, the Count was rather long in coming +to a decision upon our note. If it occurred to him, after all, that we +might have some design, and that people with a design would be safer +inside than outside--well, I mention this only that you may know to keep +your wits about you." + +"Thanks, but I see no reason to fear anything. Everything seems to be +going admirably. We are assured of some time in which to attend to our +affairs. While one of us is playing chess with the Count, the other will +be free to roam about,--that suits me perfectly. I begin to feel really +grateful for the Count's hospitality--I almost dislike having won it by +a trick." + +"Pish! He is churlish enough as a rule in the matter of +hospitality--it's only fair to win it by a trick." + +I was inwardly much excited at the near prospect of dinner, as the meal +would perhaps give me a sight of the Countess. But of this I was +disappointed. The only people who sat down at the upper table, when +dinner was served in the hall, were the Count, the Captain, my friend +Monsieur de Pepicot, and myself. Elsewhere the benches were crowded with +fellows who, like him that had brought our invitation, appeared as much +warriors as serving men, and their number alone would have arrested +notice. I now recalled how many knaves of this sort I had seen in the +court-yard as I entered the chateau, but at that time I had had other +things to think of. + +The Count said nothing of the absence of his lady, and, as we could +scarce be thought to know whether he had a Countess living, it was not +for us to inquire about her. I spent my time wondering what could be her +situation, and whether her not appearing had anything to do with the +danger in which she supposed herself. My long-nosed friend ate very +industriously, and most of the conversation was between the Count and +the Captain, upon dogs and hawks and such things. When the Count +addressed either Monsieur de Pepicot or me, the Captain was silent. This +reticence, whether it proceeded from jealousy or contempt, seemed to +afford the Count a little amusement, for he turned his small eyes on the +Captain and stretched his thin lips in a smile that was truly horrible +in its relish of another's discontent. + +After dinner, the Count had the chessmen brought at once, and sat down +to watch us at our game. The Captain, with a glance of disapproval at +the chessboard, strolled away as he had done before. I was but a +moderately good player, and discomposed besides, so I held out scarce an +hour against the long-nosed gentleman, who was evidently of great skill. +Apparently the Count, by his ejaculations, thought little of my playing, +but he was so glad when my defeat made room for him, that I escaped his +displeasure. I too was glad, for now, while Monsieur de Pepicot kept the +Count occupied at chess, I should be free to go about the chateau in +search for its mistress. And grateful I was to Monsieur de Pepicot for +having beaten me, for he might easily have left me as the victor and +used this opportunity for his own purpose. I could not think it was +generosity that had made him do otherwise: I could only wonder what his +purpose was, that would bear so much waiting. + +For appearance's sake, I watched the two players awhile: then I imitated +the Captain, and sauntered to the court-yard, wondering if there might +be any servant there whom I could sound. But the men lounging there were +not of a simple-looking sort. They were all of forbidding aspect, and +they stared at me so hard that I returned into the hall. The Count was +intent upon the game. Pushed by the mere impulse of inquiry, I went up +the staircase as if to go to the chamber to which I had before been +conducted. But instead of going all the way up, I turned off at the +first landing into a short corridor, resolved to wander wherever I +might: if anybody stopped me, I could pretend to have lost my way. + +The corridor led into a drawing-room richly tapestried and furnished; +that into another room, which contained musical instruments; that into a +gallery where some portraits were hung. So far I had got access by a +series of curtained archways. The further end of the gallery was closed +by a door. I was walking toward that door, when I heard a step in the +room I had last traversed. I immediately began to look at the pictures. + +A man entered and viewed me suspiciously. He was, by his dress and air, +a servant of some authority in the household, and had not the military +rudeness of the fellows in the court-yard. + +"What is it Monsieur will have?" he asked, with outward courtesy enough. + +"I am looking at the portraits," said I. + +"I will explain them to you," said he. "That is Monsieur the Count in +his youth, painted at Paris by a celebrated Italian." And he went on to +point out the Count's children, now dead, and his first wife, before +going back to a former generation. + +"And the present Countess?" said I at last, looking around the walls in +vain. + +"There is no portrait of Madame the Countess." + +"She was not at dinner," I ventured. "Is she not well?" + +"Oh, she is well, I am happy to say. She often dines in her own +apartments." + +"She is well and yet keeps to her apartments?" I said, with as much +surprise as I thought the circumstance might naturally occasion. + +"She does not keep to her apartments exactly," replied the man, a little +annoyed. "She walks in the garden much of the time. Is there anything +else I may show you, Monsieur?" + +He stood at the curtained entrance, as if to attend my leaving the room, +and I thought best to take the hint. No doubt he had purposely followed +me, to hinder my going too far. + +I returned to the hall, which was very silent, the two players being +deep in their chess. Somewhere in my wake the manservant vanished, and I +seemed free to explore in another direction. The Countess walked much in +the garden, the man had said. It was a fine afternoon--might she not be +walking there now? + +Feigning carelessness, I went out a small door at the rear of the hall, +and found myself in that narrow part of the garden which lay between two +wings of the house, and which our chamber overlooked. This part, which +was really a terrace, was separated by a low Italian balustrade from the +greater garden below and beyond. I walked up the middle path to where +there was an opening in the balustrade at the head of a flight of steps. +But here my confidence received a check. Half-way down the steps was +sitting a burly fellow, who rose at my appearance, and said: + +"Pardon, Monsieur: no further this way, if you please. I am ordered to +stop everybody." + +"But I am the Count's guest," said I. + +"It is all the same. Nobody is to go down to the garden yonder without +orders." + +"Orders from the Count?" I asked. + +"From the Count or the Captain." + +I nearly let out my thought that the Captain had a good deal of +authority at the chateau, but I closed my lips in time. To show +insistence would only injure my purpose: so I contented myself with a +glance at the forbidden territory--a very spacious pleasance, indeed, +with walks, banks of flowers, arbours, and alleys, but with nobody there +to enjoy it that I could see--and went back to the hall. + +As I could not sit there long inactive, for considering how the time was +flying and I had accomplished nothing, I soon started in good faith for +the chamber to which I had feigned to be going before. Once upstairs, +however, it occurred to me to walk pass the door of that chamber, to the +end of the corridor. This passage soon turned leftward into a rear wing +of the building. I followed it, between chamber doors on one side and, +on the other, windows looking down on the smaller garden. It terminated +at last in a blind wall. I supposed myself to be now over that part of +the house which lay beyond the closed door at the end of the picture +gallery. I looked cautiously out of one of the windows, wondering how +much of the great garden might be visible from there. I could see a +large part of it, but not a soul anywhere in it. As I drew back in +disappointment, I was suddenly startled by a low sound that seemed to +come from somewhere beneath me--a single brief sound, which made my +breath stop and pierced my very heart. + +It was the sob of a woman. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +WHAT THE PERIL WAS + + +It seemed to me like a sob of despair, or of the breaking down of +patience, and, knowing what I did already, I quickly imagined it to +proceed from the Countess in a moment when she was beginning to lose +hope of Monsieur de Merri's arrival. To me, therefore, it seemed a stab +of reproach. + +I judged that it came by way of the window below me. So forthwith, at +all hazards, sheltering myself from outside view as well as I could with +the casement, I thrust my head out over the sill, and said in a low +tone: + +"Madame." + +I waited for some moments, with a beating heart, and then called again, +"Madame." + +I thought I heard whispering below. Then a head was thrust out of the +window--a woman's head, soft haired and shapely. "Here I am," I +whispered. The head twisted round, and the face was that of the young +woman who had received the messenger at the postern the day before. But +it was clear that she had not been sobbing, though her face wore a look +of concern. + +"I must speak with Madame the Countess," said I, and added what I +thought would most expedite matters: "I bring news of Monsieur de +Merri." + +The head disappeared: there was more whispering: then the maid looked +out again, using similar precautions to mine with regard to the +casement. + +"Who are you, Monsieur?" she asked. + +"I will explain all later. There is little time now. I may soon be +looked for. Contrive to let me have an interview with Madame the +Countess. I don't know how to get to her: I'm not acquainted with the +chateau." + +"Put your head a little further out, Monsieur,--so that I can see your +face." + +I obeyed. She gazed at me searchingly, then withdrew her head again. +Reappearing very soon, she said: "Madame has decided to trust you. These +are her apartments. There is a door from a gallery where pictures +hang--" + +"I have been to that gallery," I interrupted, "but I was watched while +there. Is there no other way?" + +She thought a moment. "Yes, the garden. At the foot of the terrace, turn +to the right, till you get to the end of this wing." + +"But the man at the steps yonder will stop me. He has done so already." + +"That beast! Alas, yes! Well, I will go and talk with him, and keep him +looking at me. You go down to the terrace without attracting any +attention, walk close to the house till you get to this end of the +balustrade, step over the balustrade, descend the bank as quietly as +possible, and wait behind the shrubbery near the door at the end of this +wing,--it's the door from Madame's apartments to the garden. Do you +understand?" + +"Perfectly." + +"Then I will be talking to that man by the time you can get to the +terrace. I go at once. Be quick, Monsieur,--and careful." + +Admiring the swift wits and decision of the girl, I hastened through the +corridor, down the stairs, and into the hall. The Count and the +long-nosed man were so buried in their game that neither looked up. A +pair of varlets in attendance were yawning on a bench. Yawning in +imitation, I passed with feigned listlessness to the terrace, went +noiselessly along by the house-wall, and followed the wing to the end of +the balustrade. I did not venture even to look toward the steps, but I +could hear the maid talking and laughing coquettishly. I crossed the +balustrade by sitting on it and swinging my legs over: then strode on +light feet down the grassy bank and through an opening in the shrubbery +I saw at my right. I found myself in a walk which, bordered all the way +by shrubbery, ran from a narrow door in the end of the wing to the other +extremity of the garden. The door, when I first glanced at it, was +slightly ajar: I supposed the maid had left it so. But as soon as I had +come to a halt in the walk, the door opened, and a very young, very +slender, very sad-faced, very beautiful lady came out, with eyes turned +upon me in a mixture of hope and fear. + +I instinctively fell upon my knee before that picture of grief and +beauty. She wore, I remember, a gown of faded blue, and blue was the +colour of her eyes--a soft, fair blue, like that of the sky. She was so +slim, sorrowful, small, childlike, forlorn,--I would have died to serve +her. + +She looked at me searchingly, as the maid had done, but with more +courtesy, and then, in a low voice bidding me follow her, led the way +down the walk and into a side path that wound among some tall +rose-bushes. Here we could not be seen from the walk and yet we might +hear anybody approaching. She stopped and faced me. + +"You have news of Monsieur de Merri," she said eagerly. "What of him?" + +"He is prevented from coming to you, Madame." + +Her face, pale before, turned white as a sheet. + +"But," I hastened to add, "I have come in his stead, and I will serve +you as willingly as he." + +"But that will not do," she said, in great agitation. "Nobody can serve +me at this pass _but_ Monsieur de Merri. Where is he? What prevents +him?" + +"I left him at La Flèche," said I lamely. "I assure you it is utterly +impossible for him to come. But believe me, I am wholly yours for +whatever service you desired of him. You can see that I have come from +him." I took from my pocket her note, and held it out. I then told her +my name and parentage, and begged her not to distrust me because I was +of another religion than hers. + +"It isn't that I don't believe you, Monsieur," she replied. "It isn't +that I doubt your willingness to help me." + +"As to my ability, try me, Madame. My zeal will inspire me." + +"I don't doubt your ability to do brave and difficult things, Monsieur. +But it is not that. It happens--the circumstances are such--alas, nobody +but Monsieur de Merri himself can help me! If you but knew! If _he_ but +knew!" + +"Tell me the case, Madame. Trust me, I beg. Let me be the judge as to +whether I can help you." + +"I do trust you. I am not afraid to tell you. You will see plainly +enough. It is this: I have been slandered to my husband. A week has been +given me in which to clear myself. The week ends to-morrow. If I have +not proved my innocence by that time, God knows what fate my husband +will inflict upon me!" + +She shuddered and closed her eyes. + +"But your innocence, Madame--who can doubt it?" + +"My husband is a strange man, Monsieur. He has little faith in women." + +"But what slander can he believe of you? And who could utter it? What is +its nature?" + +"I suppose it is my husband's friend, Captain Ferragant, who uttered it. +The nature of it is, that Monsieur de Merri's name is associated with +mine. Monsieur de Merri is said to have made a boast about me, in the +tavern at Montoire. It is a hideous lie, invented when Monsieur de Merri +had gone away. And now you see how only Monsieur de Merri can save me, +by coming and facing our accusers and swearing to my innocence. But +to-morrow is the last day. Oh, if he had known why I wanted him! It is +too late now--or is it? Perhaps he sent you ahead? Perhaps he is coming +after you? Is it not so? He will be here to-morrow, will he not?" + +Bitterly I shook my head. + +"Then I am lost," she said, in a whisper of despair. + +"But that cannot be. It isn't for you to prove your innocence--it is for +your accuser to prove your guilt. He cannot do that." + +"You do not know the Count de Lavardin. He will believe any ill of a +woman, and anything that Captain Ferragant tells him. The fact that +Monsieur de Merri is young and accomplished is enough. My husband has +suspected me from the hour of our marriage. And besides that, people at +Montoire have testified that they heard Monsieur de Merri boast of +conquests. Whether that be true or not, it could not have been of me +that he boasted. And if he but knew how I stand, how readily he would +fly to clear me! He is no coward, I am sure." + +I had evidence of that: evidence also of Monsieur de Merri's unfortunate +habit of boasting of conquests. But I was convinced that it could not +have been of her that he had boasted. These thoughts, however, were but +transient flashings across my sense of the plight in which I had put +this unhappy woman by killing Monsieur de Merri. I tried to minimize +that plight. + +"But your fears are exaggerated. Your husband will not dare go too far." + +"He will dare take my life--or lock me up for the rest of my days in a +dungeon--or I know not what. He is all-powerful on his estate--lord of +life and death. You know what these great noblemen do when they believe +their wives unfaithful. I have heard how the Prince de Condé--" + +"Yes; but the Count de Lavardin would have your relations to fear." + +"I have no relations. I was an orphan in a convent. The Count took a +fancy to my face, they told me. They urged me to consent to the +marriage. I could not displease them--I had never disobeyed them. And +now this is the end. Well, I am in the hands of God." She glanced +upwards and gave a sigh of bitter resignation. + +"But after all," I interposed, "you are not certain how your husband +will act." + +"He has threatened the worst vengeance if I cannot clear myself +to-morrow. If you knew him, Monsieur!" + +"He allowed you a week, you say.--" + +"From the day he accused me--last Saturday." + +"And what facilities did he give you for the purpose?" + +"His men and horses were at my service. He knew, of course, that all I +could do was to send for Monsieur de Merri." + +"But why did he not send for Monsieur de Merri?" + +"I don't know. I suppose he was ruled by the advice of Captain +Ferragant. Perhaps he thought Monsieur de Merri would not come at his +request." + +"But you did not use your husband's men and horses to send for Monsieur +de Merri." + +"No. Mathilde--my maid whom you saw just now--thought I would better act +secretly. She feared the Captain would bribe the messenger to make only +a pretence of taking my message to Monsieur de Merri. In that case +Monsieur de Merri, knowing nothing, would not come, and his not coming +would be taken as evidence of guilt--as it will be now, though he got my +message, for Hugues is faithful. Why is it, Monsieur, that Monsieur de +Merri sent back word by Hugues that he would follow close, if he could +not come?" + +"Something happened afterward. Hugues, then, is the name of the +messenger you sent?" + +"Yes. He is devoted to Mathilde. They are accustomed to meet at certain +times. Mathilde has not much freedom, as you may guess, sharing my life +as she does. So she contrived to get possession for awhile of the key to +a postern yonder, and to pass it to Hugues when he came with flour. He +had a duplicate made, so that she could restore the original and yet +retain a key with which to let herself out and meet him in the forest. +Thus she was able to see him last Sunday morning, and to send him after +Monsieur de Merri. We knew that De Merri had started Westward, and +Hugues traced him from town to town. Ah, when Hugues returned +successful, how rejoiced we were! We expected Monsieur de Merri every +hour. But the time went by, and our hopes changed to fears, and now, +heaven pity me, it is the fears that have come true!" + +"But you are not yet lost. Even if the Count should be so blind as to +think you guilty, you have at least one resource. You have the key to +the postern. You can flee." + +"And be caught before I had fled two leagues. I am visited every three +hours, as if I were a prisoner, and as soon as I was missed a score of +men would be sent in all directions. Besides, for some reason or other, +the Count has the roads watched from the tower. If I fled into the +forest, the bloodhounds would be put on my track. My husband has hinted +all this to me. And where could I flee to but the Convent? The Count +would have men there before I could reach it." + +"I could find some other place to take you to," said I at a hazard. + +"Ah, Monsieur, then indeed would appearances be against me. Then indeed +would the enemy of my poor reputation have his triumph. Alas, there is +no honourable place in this world for a wife who leaves her husband's +roof, though it be her prison. I will be true to my vows, though I die. +If there be wrong, it shall be all of his doing, none of mine." + +"You believe it is this Captain who has slandered you. Why should he do +that? Why is he your enemy?" + +She blushed and looked down. I understood. + +"But why do you not tell your husband that?" I asked quickly. + +"The Count says it is an old story that wives accuse their husbands' +friends whom they dislike. He thinks women are made of lies. And in any +case he says if I am innocent of this charge I can prove my innocence. +So all depended on Monsieur de Merri's being here to-morrow to speak for +me." + +"Ah, Madame, if only my speaking for you would avail anything!" + +"From the depths of my heart I thank you, Monsieur, though you see how +useless you--And yet there is one thing you can say for me!" A great +light of sudden hope dawned upon her face. "You can tell how you saw +Monsieur de Merri--that he was coming here, but was prevented--" + +"Yes, I can do that." + +"And perhaps--who knows?--you can induce the Count to give me a few more +days, till the cause of Monsieur de Merri's delay is past. And then you +can ride or send to Monsieur de Merri, and tell him my situation, and he +will come and put my accuser to shame, after all! Yes, thank God, there +is hope! Oh, Monsieur, you may yet be able to save me!" + +There were tears of joy on her face, and she gratefully clasped my hand +in both of hers. + +It sickened my heart to do it, but I could only shake my head sadly and +say: + +"No, Madame, Monsieur de Merri can never come to speak for you." + +"Why not?" she cried, all the hope rushing out of her face again. + +"He is dead--slain in a duel." I said in a voice as faint as a whisper. + +Her face seemed to turn to marble. + +"Who killed him?" she presently asked in a horrified tone. + +I knelt at her feet, with averted eyes, as one who is all contrition but +dare not ask a pardon. + +"You!" she whispered. + +"When I found this message upon him afterward," said I, "I saw what +injury was done. I could only come in his place, and offer myself. By +one means and another, I learned who it was had sent for him." + +"That brave young gentleman," said she, following her own thoughts; +"that he should die so soon! And you, with his blood on your +hands."--she drew back from me a step--"come to offer your service to me +who, little as I was to him, must yet be counted among his friends! +Monsieur, what could you think of my loyalty?" + +"I thought only of what might be done to prevent further harm. Though I +fought him, I was not his enemy. I had never seen him before. It was a +sudden quarrel, about nothing. Heaven knows, I did not think it would +end as it did. That end has been lamentable enough, Madame. Punish me if +you will: as his friend, you are entitled to avenge him." + +"I only pity him, Monsieur. God forbid I should think of revenge!" + +"You are a saint, Madame. I was about to say that my having killed him +need not make you reject my service. Your doing so might but add to the +evil consequences of my act. Surely he would prefer your accepting my +aid, now that he is for ever powerless to give his. And we must think +now of something to be done--" + +[Illustration: "WE WERE INTERRUPTED BY A LOW CRY."] + +We were interrupted by a low cry, "Madame, Madame!" in a soft voice from +within the arbour that sheltered the walk. The Countess said to me, "It +is Mathilde. She means some one is coming. Hide among these bushes. If +we do not meet again, adieu, Monsieur; I thank you from my heart, and +may God pardon you the death of Monsieur de Merri!" + +She started for the walk: I whispered, "But I must help you! Can we not +meet again presently?" + +"I know not," she replied. "Act as you think best, Monsieur. But do not +endanger yourself. I must be gone now." + +She hastened to join the maid, whose whereabouts were indicated by a low +cough. I heard voices, and instantly crawled under the rose bushes, +heedless of scratches. As the voices came down the walk, one of them +turned out to be that of Captain Ferragant. There was but one other, +which I took, from the talk which I heard later, to belong to a falconer +or some such underling. The Captain addressed a few remarks to the +Countess, as to her state of health and the beauty of the day, which she +answered in low tones. Then he and his companion proceeded to walk +about, talking continually, never getting entirely out of my hearing, +and often coming so near that I could make out their words. It seemed +that an endless length of time passed in this way. I heard no more of +Madame and the maid. Finally the Captain and his man walked back toward +the house. I rose, stretched my legs, and peered up and down the walk. +It was deserted. What was I to do next? I naturally strolled toward the +chateau. As I neared the door leading to Madame's apartments, out came +Mathilde. + +"I have been watching for you, Monsieur. Madame had to come in, to avoid +suspicion. If you can get back to the terrace by the way you came down, +I will go again and distract the attention of the guard." + +"I can do that. But what of Madame? I must see her again. We must find +some way to save her." + +"Do what you can, Monsieur. If you think of anything, you know how to +communicate with us by way of the windows. But lose no time now." + +She hastened away to beguile the man on watch at the steps. When I heard +her laughter, I sped over the grass to the foot of the bank. I clambered +up, crossed the balustrade, went along the house, and entered the hall. +Monsieur de Pepicot was just in the act of saying "Checkmate." + +The Count's face turned a shade more ashen, and he looked unhappy. +Presently he smiled, however, and said peevishly: + +"Well, you must give me an opportunity of revenge. We must play another +game." + +"I shall be much honoured," said Monsieur de Pepicot. "But is there time +to-day?" + +"No; it will soon be supper time. But there will be time to-morrow. You +shall stay here to-night." + +"With great pleasure; but there are some poor things of mine at the +cabaret yonder I should like to have by me." + +"I will send a man for your baggage," said the Count. + +"Then I shall have nothing to mar my happiness," said Monsieur de +Pepicot composedly. + +I was very anxious to remain at the chateau for the present, and feared +rather dismissal than the enforced continuance there which the +long-nosed man had fancied might be our fate. So, to make sure, I said: + +"If Monsieur the Count will do me the honour of a game to-morrow, I will +try to make a better contest than I did against Monsieur de Pepicot." + +The Count looked not displeased at this; it gave him somebody to beat in +the event of his being again defeated by Monsieur de Pepicot. + +"Certainly," said he; "I cannot refuse you. You too will remain my +guest; and if I may send for your baggage also--" + +I felt vaguely that it would be better to leave my horse and belongings +at the inn at Montoire, in case I should ever wish to make a stealthy +departure from the chateau; so I replied: + +"I thank you, Monsieur; but there is nothing I have urgent need for, or +of such great value that I would keep it near." + +"As you please," said the Count, observing me keenly with his +half-ambushed eyes. + +The man who had escorted us to the chateau was sent to fetch Monsieur de +Pepicot's baggage; and would have brought his horse also, but that +Monsieur de Pepicot mildly but firmly insisted otherwise and despatched +orders for its care in his absence. The baggage consisted of a somewhat +sorry looking portmanteau, which was taken to our chamber. We then had +supper, during which the Count and my long-nosed friend talked of chess +play, while Captain Ferragant ate in frowning silence, now and then +casting no very tolerant glances at us two visitors. I would have tried +by conversation to gain some closer knowledge of this man, but I saw +there was no getting him to talk while that mood lasted. After supper +the Count and the Captain sat over their wine in a manner which showed a +long drinking bout to be their regular evening custom. Monsieur de +Pepicot and I accompanied them as far as our position as guests +required. We then plead the fatigue of recent travel, and were shown to +our room, in which an additional bed had been placed. The Count was by +this time sufficiently forward in his devotions to Bacchus to dispense +easily with such dull company as ours, and the Captain, by the free +breath he drew as we rose to go, showed his relief at our departure. + +When the servant had placed our candles and left us alone, I expressed a +wonder why so great a house could not afford us a room apiece. + +"It is very simple," said the long-nosed man, opening his portmanteau. +"If they should take a fancy to make caged birds of us, it's easier +tending one cage than two." + +I went to bed wondering what the morrow had in store. I saw now clearly +that I might accomplish something by informing the Count that Monsieur +de Merri was dead and that he was on his way to Lavardin when I met him. +His failure to appear could not then be held as evidence of guilt: his +intention to come might count much in the Countess's favour. + +As my head sank into the pillow, there came suddenly to my mind the +second of the three maxims Blaise Tripault had learned from the monk: + +"_Never sleep in a house where the master is old and the wife young._" + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +STRANGE DISAPPEARANCES + + +Monsieur de Pepicot spent so many minutes among the contents of his +travelling bag, that he was not in bed as soon as I. But he was by far +the sooner asleep, as his loud snoring testified. To that music ran my +thoughts of the beautiful young Countess and her unhappy situation, till +at last they passed into dreams. In the midst of the night I woke, and +listened for my neighbour's snoring. But it had ceased. Then I strained +my ears to catch the sound of his breathing, but none came. Wondering at +this, I rose and went over toward his bed. There was just light enough +by the window to see that it was empty. + +I was still in the midst of my surprise, when the door opened with a +very slight creak, and in walked a slim figure so silently that I knew +it was without shoes. + +"Is that you, Monsieur de Pepicot?" I asked. + +"H'sh," he replied in a whisper, closing the door carefully. "Don't +disturb the slumbers of the household. You are very wakeful." + +"No more so than you are, it seems," I said. + +"That is true. I often suffer from sleeplessness, and I find a walk is +the thing to put me right." + +"You were wise to take a light with you on your walk," I observed, for +he now produced a small lantern from under his loose-fitting doublet, +where it had been entirely concealed. + +"Yes; one might hurt one's toes in these dark passages," he answered, +and placidly drew some papers from his breast pocket, folded them +carefully by the lantern's light, and then as carefully replaced them. +"I trust you made some progress in your affair here during the +afternoon." + +"Yes. But you were kept busy with the Count." + +"Oh, I don't complain. I was about to say that if you preferred to leave +the house to-night, no doubt I could manage it for you." + +"Why should I prefer to leave to-night?" + +"Oh, merely because this Count may be a dangerous man to have much to do +with. I know nothing of your affairs, and of course you have no interest +in mine. The Count will understand that, no doubt, and will not hold you +responsible for anything I may do, if you choose to stay here longer." + +"Well, I must stay here longer, in any case." + +"Then there is no more to be said," answered the long-nosed man, +extinguishing his lantern, which he wrapped up and put into his +portmanteau. He then lay down upon his bed, without undressing. + +I returned to my own couch and was soon asleep. + +When I woke again, it was daylight. Monsieur de Pepicot and his +portmanteau were gone. It occurred to me now, as I washed and dressed, +that when he spoke of my departing by night he intended to make just +such an unceremonious exit himself. In that case, I inferred, he had +thought it only fair, as I had helped him to get into the chateau, that +he should offer to help me to get out, for he had made no secret of his +fears that we might find opposition to our doing so. But, if he had +indeed fled, how had he contrived to get out in the middle of the night? +As for his purpose in getting in, he must have accomplished that while +on his midnight perambulations. + +I went downstairs, but he was not in the hall, nor on the terrace nor in +the court-yard. It was a fine morning, and I was for walking about. At +one side of the court-yard the wall was pierced by a narrow gateway, +which took me into a second court-yard, of which one of the further +angles was filled by a quadrant of the great tower that rose toward +heaven from a corner of the main chateau. There was a small door from +this court-yard to the tower. This tower, for its bigness and height, +took my eyes the first moment, but the next they were attracted by the +living figures in the court-yard. These were Captain Ferragant and a +pack of great hounds which he was marshalling before him, throwing a +piece of meat now to one, now to another, calling out by name which +animal was to catch. He indeed managed to keep them in some sort of +order and from closing around him, and though they all barked and leaped +at each throw, yet only the one whose name was called would dare +actually to close jaws upon the titbit. This went on for some time, +until at last one huge brute, leaping higher, seized the meat intended +for another. + +The red Captain swore a fierce oath, and, grasping a whip, called the +interloping dog to come to him. The animal slunk back. The Captain +advanced among the pack, still calling the hound in the most threatening +voice. But the hound slunk further, growling and showing his teeth. The +Captain sprang forward and brought down his whip. The dog, mutinous, +made a snap at the Captain. The latter, now deeply enraged, threw aside +the whip, caught the animal by the neck, lifted it high, and, with a +swift contraction of his fingers, caused its eyes and tongue to protrude +and its body to writhe and hang powerless. He then flung the dead +creature to a corner of the yard, and looked at me with a smile half +vaunting, half amused, as if to say, "That is how I can treat those who +thwart my will," and to ridicule my wonder at his fury and strength. + +I turned with a look of pity toward the victim of his anger. At that +moment the Count de Lavardin entered the court-yard, and his glance +followed mine. Having seen what I saw, he looked protestingly at the +Captain. + +"The brute was rebellious," said Ferragant. + +"But one doesn't run across such dogs every day," complained the Count. + +"The rarest dog shall not defy me," was the cool answer. + +"That's all very well, if it had been your own dog," said the Count, +still peevish. + +"Oh, as to that, we are quits now. Your dog to-day pays for my man you +killed last week." + +"Pish, it's easy enough to find rascals like that by the score. Not so, +dogs like this. Well, talking won't make him live again--Good morning, +Monsieur. Where is your comrade, Monsieur de Pepicot?" + +I could only answer that on waking I had been disappointed of seeing +either Monsieur de Pepicot or his baggage. "Nor have I beheld him since, +though I have been looking about." + +"That is very strange,--that he should take his baggage from the room," +said the Count, exchanging a look of surprise with the Captain. He then +called two servants and gave them orders quietly, which must have been +to search the house and grounds for Monsieur de Pepicot. As we returned +to the hall, the Count questioned me, watching me sharply the while. I +was perfectly safe in telling the literal truth, though not all of it: +how Monsieur de Pepicot was a stranger to me, how I had never spoken to +him before yesterday, how I knew nothing of his business, and so forth. +Of course I said nothing of his midnight walk or of having conversed +with him at all after going to bed. The Count's mystification and +annoyance were manifest, the more so when, after some time, the servants +returned to say that the missing man could not be found. When he had +heard their report, the Count was very angry. + +"Name of the devil, then, how did he get out? There is treachery +somewhere, and somebody shall pay for it," he screeched, and then +despatched a man to the cabaret to see if Monsieur de Pepicot had taken +his horse away. The man came back saying the horse was gone, but nobody +had seen the owner take it. + +"It is certainly odd that the gentleman should depart secretly like +that, when he might have waited for day and gone civilly," said I, to +evince my simplicity. + +"You are right, very right," said the Count. "Well, at least you remain +to play a game of chess with me. What I am thinking is, the man must +have had some private reason for obtaining entrance to my house." + +"Possibly, Monsieur," I replied, bearing the searching gaze of both the +Count and the Captain well enough. + +"In that case, he made a tool of you," added the Count, still intent on +my expression. + +"That would be the inference," said I. + +"Well, we must satisfy ourselves as to how he took his departure, if we +cannot guess why. Make yourself master of the house, Monsieur. We shall +have our game nevertheless." + +And he went off with the Captain, to examine the places of exit from the +chateau and the men who were responsible for their security. One could +see that Monsieur de Pepicot's disappearance was as disturbing to the +Count as it was puzzling to me. + +I wandered out to the terrace and paced the walk along the house. My +eyes turned toward that window in the west wing which I knew to belong +to the apartments of the Countess. I turned along the wing, and strolled +under that window, thinking Madame or Mathilde might make an appearance +at it. I kept moving to and fro within easy earshot of it, sometimes +glancing up at the half-open casement. This was the clay on which the +poor lady's fate was to be determined by her husband and lord. I +wondered what sort of scene was arranged for the event, whether it would +have the form of trial and judgment, when and where it would occur, and +if I should be admitted to it. Probably I should not, and therefore I +would best speak to the Count regarding Monsieur de Merri before. The +thing was, to find a pretext for broaching the matter without betraying +that I had talked with the Countess. I had thought all this over during +the night, a hundred times, but now I thought it over again; and, in +vague search for some hint or guidance, I looked often up to the window, +as I have said. + +Presently I heard a single sharp, low syllable of laughter, which drew +my glance to the door by which I had come out to the terrace. There +stood the red Captain, his eyes upon me. When he saw that I noticed him, +he came toward me, whereupon I, with pretended carelessness, went to +meet him half way. + +"You seem to find it very interesting, that window," said he, in a low +voice. "To me it looks like any of the others." And he ran his glance +ironically along the whole range. + +"I thought you had gone with the Count to learn how Monsieur de Pepicot +got away," said I, guessing that he had come back to watch me, doubtless +considering that, after the evident duplicity of one guest, the other +might require some looking after. + +"And so you thought yourself free to post yourself over there and make +eyes at that window?" said the Captain with a smile that half jeered at +me, half threatened me with annihilation. + +"I do not quite understand your little jest," said I, boldly enough. + +"You may find it one of those jests in which the laugh is only on one +side, and that side not yours, young gentleman. Your friend with the +long nose, it appears, had his secret motives for paying a visit to this +chateau. We smelt some such thing when the letter came asking for a set +of chessmen, and so the Count admitted you, thinking you just as safe +inside the chateau as outside. It was not the intention to let you out +again in too great haste." + +"In that case," I put in, feigning to treat the matter gaily, "Monsieur +de Pepicot was wise in leaving as he did." + +"I was about to say that if Monsieur de Pepicot had his secret purposes, +it is but fair to suppose you may have yours. If it turns out to be so, +and if your object has anything to do with what you may imagine is +behind that window,--why, then, I warn you in time it would be much +better for you to have been that dog which opposed me a while ago,--very +much better, my pert young gentleman, I assure you." + +He turned and walked into the house, leaving me without any fit answer +on my tongue, or indeed in my mind either. + +It appeared to me that the sooner I had my explanation with the Count, +the better for both the Countess and myself. So I returned into the +hall, which the Captain was leaving by the court-yard door, and waited +for the Count's reappearance. When he did come, it was clear from his +face that the manner of Monsieur de Pepicot's escape--for escape it must +now be called--was still a mystery. It was plain, too, when his eyes +alighted on me, that he had heard from the Captain, who followed him, of +my conduct beneath the window. As he came toward me, he scowled and +looked very wicked and crafty. Before he could speak, I said: + +"Monsieur, there is something I wish to tell you, if you will allow me +to speak to you alone." + +"Regarding Monsieur de Pepicot?" + +"No; regarding myself and the reason of my coming to Lavardin." + +"That is interesting. Let us hear." + +"It is for you alone." + +"Oh, to be sure. Captain Ferragant, if you will excuse me,--" + +The Captain, with a shrug, swaggered off to the furthest corner of the +hall. + +"You have been acquainted," I began, "with a certain Monsieur de Merri." + +The Count's face seemed to jump. I had certainly caught his attention. +But his speech was perfectly controlled as he said: + +"Yes. And what of him?" + +"He had the misfortune to be killed in a sudden duel four days ago at La +Flèche." + +He was plainly startled; but, after a moment's silence, he only said, +"You astonish me," and waited for me to continue. + +"I feared I should," said I, "for it turned out, after the duel, that +Monsieur de Merri was on his way to see you, upon some matter of great +urgency." + +"On his way to see me! How do you know that?" + +I thought it best to tell as much truth as possible. + +"I learned from his servant that he was bound in great haste for +Montoire. Coming to Montoire, I inquired, and was informed that his only +tie in this neighbourhood was his acquaintance with you. Therefore it +must have been you he was coming to see, and his haste implied the +urgency of his reasons, whatever they may have been. Thinking you might +be depending upon his arrival, I resolved to tell you of his death." + +"It is a little odd that you should put yourself out to do that." + +"It might be, if I were not responsible for his failure to come to you." + +"Oh, then it was you who killed him?" + +"Yes; and thought it only the proper act of a gentleman to carry the +news to the person who may have expected him." + +"H'm. No doubt. But why did you not come directly and tell me?" + +"I heard you made yourself entirely inaccessible to strangers. So when +Monsieur de Pepicot spoke of asking you to lend us chessmen, I thought +it might lead to some breaking down of your reserve,--as it did." + +"But why did you wait a day before telling me?" + +"I hoped that chance might enable me to see you alone. But you were so +deeply engrossed in your chess. And I hesitated lest you might think +yourself bound, as Monsieur de Merri's friend, to deliver me up for +having violated the edict." + +These were certainly sufficient reasons, though, as you know, I had not +thought of telling him of Monsieur de Merri till after I had heard the +Countess's story, and therefore they were not the true answer to his +question. But I no longer found safe standing on the ground of truth, +and so fell back upon the soil of invention, uncertain as it was. The +Count looked as far into me as he could, and then called the Captain, +who came without haste to the great fireplace where we were. Without any +explanation to me, or other preface, the Count repeated my disclosure to +his friend, all the time in the manner of one submitting a story to the +hearer's judgment as to its truth. + +The Captain shrugged his shoulders, and looked at me scornfully. "It is +a fine, credible tale indeed," said he. + +"If you will take the trouble to send to La Flèche, you will find that +Monsieur de Merri is really slain," said I warmly. + +"Oh, no doubt," said the Captain. "But before he was slain, he had time +to take you into his confidence regarding certain things." + +"Not at all. I had never seen him before that evening. It was from his +servant, after he was dead, that I learned he was coming to Montoire. If +you can find that servant, at La Flèche or Sablé, he will tell you so." + +"How could he have known he was wanted here?" asked the Captain of the +Count. "Your offer of a messenger was disdained." + +"I knew she would contrive to send after him on her own account, if I +gave her enough liberty," returned the Count. + +"It argues skill in such contrivances," said the Captain, with a +significant look. + +The Count frowned in a sickly way, but not at the speaker. "Well, in any +case, the liberty will now be cut off," he said harshly. But after a +moment, he added: "And yet, if this gentleman does not lie, Monsieur de +Merri was coming here fast enough." + +"To brazen it out, perhaps. There is no limit to the self-confidence of +youth. As for this gentleman, how does his story account for the +interest he takes in a certain window that looks upon the terrace?" + +The Count's face darkened again, as he turned menacingly toward me. +"Yes, by heaven, I had forgotten that." + +"To be frank," said I awkwardly, after a moment's hesitation, "I had +seen a pretty face there--I mean that of Mathilde." I added the last +words in haste, for the Count's look had shown for an instant that he +took me to mean that of the Countess. + +"Ah! that of Mathilde," he repeated, subsiding. + +"And how did you know her name was Mathilde?" asked the Captain, in a +cold, derisive tone. The Count's eyes waited for my answer. + +"I--exchanged a few words with her yesterday afternoon," I replied. + +"In regard to what subject?" asked the Count quickly, making a veritable +grimace in the acuteness of his suspicion. + +"I paid her a compliment or two, such as one bestows upon a pretty +girl." + +"He is evading," said the Captain. "It is a question whether he did not +presume to offer his compliments higher. One does not say to a pretty +girl, 'What is your name?' nor does the girl reply 'Mathilde,' as if she +were a child. It is more likely he heard the girl's name from other +lips. And was he not found spying about the west gallery by Ambroise? My +dear Count, I fear you kept your nose too close to the chessboard +yesterday afternoon. As for me, if I had known as much as I know now, I +should have been more watchful." + +The Count's face had turned sicklier and uglier as his friend had +continued to speak. He looked now as if he would like to pounce upon me +with his claw-like fingers. He was evidently between the desire to +question me outright as to whether anything had passed between me and +the Countess, and the dislike of showing openly to a stranger any +suspicion of his wife. The latter feeling prevailed, and he regained +control of himself. I breathed a little easier. But just then it +occurred to me that the Count would surely tax the Countess with having +seen me; that she would acknowledge our meeting; and that her own +account of it would be disbelieved, and the worst imaginings added, for +the very reason of my maintaining secrecy about it. I therefore took a +sudden course. + +"Monsieur," I said. "I will be perfectly open with you. From some casual +words of Monsieur de Merri at the inn at La Flèche, before we +quarrelled, I was led to believe that the cause of his journey had +something to do with the welfare of a lady. Afterwards when I heard +whither he was bound so hastily, I remembered that. On learning at +Montoire that this chateau was the only house in which he was known +hereabouts, I assumed that the lady must be in this chateau. It turned +out that the only lady here was the Countess herself. Do you wonder, +then, at my endeavouring to speak to the Countess first upon the matter +of Monsieur de Merri's death?" + +"Pray go on," said the Count, who was taking short and rapid breaths. + +"It is true I saw the maid at that window, but I saw also the +impossibility of communicating properly with Madame by that channel. So, +in spite of your sentinel's vigilance, I crossed the balustrade to the +garden, and there had the honour of presenting myself to the Countess. I +acquainted her with the fate of Monsieur de Merri. Her demeanour causing +me to believe that this put her into peril on her own account, I so +pushed my inquiries and offers of service that she told me what that +peril was. She said she was the victim of a slander which only Monsieur +de Merri's presence here could clear her of. We were soon interrupted +and she left me. I did not see her again, but it appeared to me that, as +Monsieur de Merri's presence here would have stood in her favour, the +news of his intention to be here must also stand that way. And now, +Monsieur, you have the whole story." + +It seemed to have weight with him: but, alas, he looked to the Captain +for an opinion. That gentleman, regarding me with a smile of ironical +admiration, uttered a monosyllabic laugh in his throat, and said: + +"There is one thing we can believe, at least. We know Monsieur de +Merri's habit of disclosing his affairs with ladies to strangers at +inns." + +The Count's face grew dark again. + +"But we can never be sure how much may have passed between Monsieur de +Merri and this gentleman on the subject before they quarrelled, or what +was the real motive that brought him here." + +"My God!" I cried; "what gentleman could require a stronger motive than +I have shown? Having prevented Monsieur de Merri from coming here upon +so urgent a matter, what else could I do in honour but come in his +place?" + +"'In his place'--yes, perhaps, that is well said," retorted the Captain, +with his evil smile. + +The Count, whose judgment seemed entirely under the dominion of his +friend, looked at me again as if he would destroy me. After a moment, he +took a turn across the hall and back, and then said to me: + +"Well, in the midst of all this deceit and uncertainty one thing is +clear. You know too much of our private affairs here to be permitted to +go where you will, for the present. I must ask you, therefore, to keep +to your chamber awhile. Your wants will be provided for there. I will +show you the way myself, on this occasion." He motioned toward the +stairway, and the Captain stood ready to accompany him. + +"That amounts to making me a prisoner, Monsieur," said I. + +"We shall not dispute over words," replied the Count. "By your own +confession, you are liable to the law for killing Monsieur de Merri." + +"I have reason to expect the King's pardon for that. Measures have +already been taken." + +"Pray don't keep me waiting, Monsieur. I should not like to be compelled +to have my men lay hands on you." At the same time his smile looked as +if he would like that very much. + +There was nothing to do, for the moment, but yield. The Captain was +watching to see where my hand moved, and I know not how many armed men +were in the court-yard, besides the servants waiting at the other end of +the hall. So I obeyed the Count's gesture, merely saying: + +"You will find I am not a person who will go unavenged in case of +indignity." + +The Count laughed, in his dry, sharp manner, and walked by my side. The +Captain followed. As soon as I was in my room, the Count called a +servant, who went away and presently returned with a key. The Count and +his friend then left me, and locked the door on the outside. As I sat +down on my bed, I was glad I had offered no useless resistance, for, as +it was, I had not been deprived of my weapons. + +To make a short matter here of what seemed a very long one at the time, +I was kept locked in my room all that day, with two armed men outside my +door, as I guessed first from hearing them, and certified afterwards by +seeing them when a servant brought my food. What made the confinement +and inaction the more trying was my knowledge that this was the day on +which the Countess was to plead her innocence. I kept wondering through +the tedious hours how matters were going with her, and I often strained +my ears in the poor hope of discovering by them what might be going on +in the chateau. But I never heard anything but the rough speech and +movements of the men outside my door, and now and then the voice of some +attendant on the terrace below my window. I could look diagonally across +the terrace to the window where I had seen Mathilde, but not once during +all that day did I behold a sign of life there. The night came without +bringing me any hint as to how the Countess had fared. I could not sleep +till late. + +When I woke, early in the morning, I noticed that my door was slightly +ajar. Looking out, I found the corridor empty. I took this to mean that +I was not to remain a prisoner, and so it proved. Hastily dressing and +going downstairs, though many servants were about, I encountered no +hindrance. I passed out to the terrace. To my surprise, nobody was on +guard at the steps; so I went boldly down to the garden. My heart beat +with a vague hope of meeting the Countess, though it was scarce late +enough in the day to expect her to be out. I must confess it was not +alone her being an oppressed lady whom I had engaged myself to aid, that +made me look so eagerly down all the walks and peer so keenly into all +the arbours; I must confess it was largely the impression her beauty and +tenderness had left upon me. But I was disappointed: I explored the +whole garden in vain. + +Anything to be near her, I thought. So I went and hung about the door +between the garden and her apartments. But it remained closed and +enigmatic. I had another idea, and, returning into the house, took my +way unchecked to the gallery of pictures, wondering at the freedom of +passage now allowed me, and at the same time resolved to make the most +of it. I could scarce believe my eyes when I saw the door ajar which led +to Madame's suite. I went and tapped lightly on it, but got no answer. +It opened to a large drawing-room, well furnished but without any +inhabitant. I crossed this room to the other side, which had two doors, +both open. One gave entrance to a sleeping-chamber, in a corner of which +was a prie-dieu, and which showed in a hundred details to be the bedroom +of a lady. But the bed was made up, and a smaller bed, in a recess, +which might be that of the maid, also had the appearance of not having +been used the previous night. I looked through the other doorway from +the drawing-room, and saw a stairway leading down to the garden door. +Had the Countess and Mathilde, then, gone into the garden at the time I +was in the act of coming to the gallery? No; for the garden door was +bolted on the inside. I went to one of the drawing-room windows looking +on the terrace, and made sure it was the window from which Mathilde had +first answered my call. And then it dawned upon me what the desertion of +these rooms meant, and why I was allowed to go where I would in the +house and garden. The Countess and her maid were no longer there. What +had become of them? + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +MATHILDE + + +Well, there was no indication to be found in the Countess's apartments +as to where she had removed to, and I thought it best not to risk being +seen there. So I went down to the hall again. As I glanced through the +court-yard to the outer gates, I thought of trying to leave the chateau, +to see if my new liberty went so far as to permit that. But I reflected +that if I were once let out I might not be let in again, and my chance +of learning what had become of the Countess lay, I supposed, inside the +chateau. So I resolved to stay there and await the turn that matters +might take. And certainly never was any man a guest in stranger +circumstances of guestship. I hated and feared my host, and was loth to +accept his hospitality, yet stayed of my own will, though I knew not +certainly whether I was free to go. My host hated me, yet tolerated my +presence--if indeed he would not have enforced it--for the sake of +having me at hand if he thought fit to crush me. When he appeared that +morning, I thanked him ironically for restoring me to liberty. He only +uttered his harsh crackling laugh in reply, and regarded me with a +pretended disdain which failed to conceal his hatred and his longing to +penetrate my mind and learn what indeed was between me and his Countess. +In such men, especially when they have an evil suggester like the +Captain at their ear, jealousy is a madness, and no assurances--nay, not +even oaths--of innocence will be taken by them as truth. But his pride +made him feign contempt for me, and he had nothing to say to me that +day. Neither had the Captain, whose manner toward me merely reverted to +what it had been at first. I saw my former place made ready at the +table, and took it. The Count and his friend talked of their sports and +the affairs of the estate, and not one word of the Countess was spoken. +Having eaten, they went off to ride, leaving me to amuse myself as I +might. The air of the chateau seemed the freer for their absence, but +still it was to me a sinister place, and an irreligious place too, for, +though the Count and his friend were Catholics, I had not seen the sign +of a chaplain or of any religious observance since I had crossed the +drawbridge. So I prepared myself for a dull yet anxious day, and lounged +about the hall and court-yard as the places where I might best hope to +find out something from the domestics of the house. + +As I paced the stones of the court-yard, I became aware that a certain +maidservant had been obtruding upon my view with a persistency that +might be intentional. I now regarded her, as she stood in a small +doorway leading to the kitchen. She was a plump, well-made thing, with a +wholesome, honest face, but the sluttishness of her loose frock, and of +a great cap that hung over her eyes, were too suggestive of the +scullery. As soon as she saw I noticed her, she put one finger on her +lip, and swiftly beckoned me with another. + +I strolled carelessly over, and stopped within a foot of her, pretending +to readjust my sword-belt. + +"Monsieur," she said in an undertone, "you are desired to be in your +chamber this afternoon at four o'clock." + +I glanced at the girl in wonder. + +"That is all at present," she whispered. I had the discretion to move +on. There were, as usual, several armed fellows idling about the +court-yard, but none seemed to have observed that any word had passed +between the kitchen-maid and me. + +Here was matter for astonishment and conjecture for the next few hours. +In some manner or other, those hours passed, and at four I was seated in +my chamber, having left the door open an inch or so. The turret clock +had scarce done striking when the door was pushed wide; somebody entered +and instantly closed it. I had a brief feeling of disappointment as I +saw the slovenly frock and overhanging cap of the kitchen-maid. Was it +she, then, who paid me the compliment of this clandestine visit? + +No; for the cap was swiftly flung back from the brow, and there was the +bright and comely face of Mathilde. I uttered her name in pleased +surprise. + +"Yes," she said quickly, "Mathilde in the guise of Brigitte. I have come +from Madame the Countess." + +"And where is she?" I asked eagerly. + +"In the great tower." + +"A prisoner?" + +"Yes, and I with her. Fortunately there was nothing else to do with me, +unless they killed me. So I am able to attend her." + +"Faithful Mathilde! But why is this?" + +"It is the fulfilment of the Count's threat in case Madame could not +clear herself of that false charge." + +"But the Count knew that Monsieur de Merri was coming here. I told him." + +"Yes, Monsieur, but the Count would believe as much of your story as +Captain Ferragant would choose to let him. Your very interest in +Madame's fate has been new food for his jealousy." + +"God forbid!" + +"It is not your fault, Monsieur; it is the Count's madness. He locks his +wife up, as much that she may be inaccessible to you and all other men, +as because of anything concerning Monsieur de Merri." + +"You may well call it his madness." + +"Yes; for, whatever other ladies may have deserved who have been treated +thus, the Countess is the most virtuous of wives. Her regard for her +marriage vows--in spite of the husband she has--is a part of her +religion. But his mind is poisoned. He naturally believes that a young +and beautiful woman would not be faithful to an old wolf like him. And +he is almost right, for there is only one young and beautiful woman in +France who would be, and that is the Countess." + +"Surely not because she loves him?" + +"Oh, no. It is because of her religion. She was brought up at a convent +school, and when the Count offered to marry her, the Mother Superior +made her think it her duty and heaven's will that she should accept the +high position, where her piety would shine so much further: and having +become his wife, she would die rather than violate a wife's duties by a +hair's breadth. But what is her reward? Not because he loves +her--there's more love in a stone!--but because he can't endure the +thought of any trespass on what is his--because he dreads being made a +jeer of--he goes mad with jealousy and suspicion. He imitates the Prince +of Condé by locking his wife up in a tower." + +"But this cannot last forever." + +"No, Monsieur, and for a very good reason--the Countess's life cannot +last forever under this treatment--even if the Count, in some wild +imagining of her guilt, conjured up by Captain Ferragant, does not +murder her. It's that thought which makes me shudder. It could be done +so quietly in that lonely cell, and any account of her death could be +given out to avoid scandal." + +"Horrible, Mathilde! He would not go to that length." + +"Men have done so. You are a stranger, and have not seen the frenzies +into which the Count sometimes works himself, torturing his mind by +imagining actions of infidelity on her part." + +"But that disease of his mind will wear itself out; then he will see +matters more sanely." + +"Will he grow better, do you think, as he grows older, and drinks more +wine, and falls more under the influence of the red Captain?" + +To say truth, I thought as Mathilde did, though I had spoken otherwise +for mere form of reassurance. + +"What is her prison like?" I asked. + +"A gloomy room no larger that this, with a single small window. There is +no panelling nor tapestry nor plaster--nothing but the bare stones. +There are a bed for Madame, a cot for me, a table, and two chairs: +nothing else to make it look like a human habitation, save our +crucifixes, an image of the Virgin, a trunk, and Madame's book of +Hours." + +"A small window, you say. Is it barred?" + +"No; but our room is very high up in the tower." + +"Still, if one got through the window--is it large enough for that?" + +"One might get through; but the moat is beneath--far beneath." + +"The window looks toward Montoire, then, if the moat is beneath." + +"Yes; we can see the sunset." + +"At all events, a person dropping from the window would alight outside +the walls of the chateau?" + +"Yes, Monsieur,--in the moat, as I said. It would be a long drop, too. I +don't know how high up the room is. It seems a great many steps up the +winding stairs before one comes to the landing before the door." + +"Is it at the top of the tower, then?" + +"No; for beyond our door the stairs begin again, and they seem to wind +more steeply." + +"You noticed the sunset. Then you must have been there yesterday +evening." + +"Yes; we were taken there shortly after noon yesterday. That was the +limit to the time given the Countess in which to prove her innocence. +She was summoned to the picture gallery by the Count himself, and nobody +else was there but Captain Ferragant. The door was closed against me, +and what passed between that saint and those two devils I know not; but +after a little the door was opened, and there she was, very pale and +with her eyes raised in prayer. The Count, who was blue with +vindictiveness, told me to get together what things Madame should order; +and when that was done, he bade us follow, and led the way down to the +court-yard and to the tower, the Captain walking behind. As we climbed +those narrow winding steps, I wished the Count might trip in the +half-darkness and break his neck, but alas, it was only poor Madame who +stumbled now and then. The Count showed us into the room, already +furnished for us, and waited till a man had brought the trunk in which I +had put some of Madame's clothes. The Count left without a word, and we +heard the door locked outside. At first I thought we were to be left to +starve, but after some hours the door was unlocked by a man on guard +outside, and Brigitte appeared with our supper. She told us she was to +come twice a day with our food, and for other necessary services. And +when she came again this morning, I had planned how I should manage to +see you." + +"You are as clever as you are true, Mathilde." + +"Fortunately Brigitte looks such a simple, witless creature that the man +on guard on the landing has not thought to pry while she has been with +us, and has allowed the door to be shut. He cannot then see in, as the +grated opening has been closed, out of regard to Madame's sex. So this +morning I got Brigitte's consent to my plan, for the poor girl is the +softest-hearted creature in the world. And to make sure of finding you +immediately when I got out, I charged her to tell you to be in your room +at four o'clock." + +"Which she did very adroitly." + +"She is not such a fool as some take her for. Well, when she came to us +awhile ago, I transferred this frock and cap from her to me, and had her +call out to the guard that she had forgotten something and must return +to the kitchen for it. 'Very well, beauty,' said the guard ironically, +and I came out in a great hurry, and was on my way downstairs before he +could take a second look at me. The landing is a dark place, and my +figure so much like Brigitte's that her clothes make it look quite the +same. There is another man on guard, at the bottom of the stairs, but he +was as easily deceived as the one above. I ran across the two +court-yards, and through the kitchen passage to the servants' stairs, +and nobody glanced twice at me. Brigitte, of course, must stay with +Madame till I return,--and now, Monsieur, it is time I was back, and I +have said nothing of what I came to say." + +"You have said much that is important. But 'tis true, you'd best say the +rest quickly,--your return may be dangerous enough." + +"Oh, I shall go so fast that nobody will have time to suspect me. As for +the guards, it is their duty to keep me in. Should they see it is I who +was out, they will be very glad to have me in again, and to hold their +tongues, for the Count's punishments are not light. But as to Madame's +message--she would have tried to convey it by Brigitte, had I not +declared I would come at all hazards,--for the truth is, I have +something to say on my own responsibility, also." + +"But Madame's message?" I demanded eagerly. + +"She begs that you will go away while you can. So brave a young +gentleman should not stay here to risk the Count's vengeance." + +I felt joy at this concern for my safety. + +"If I am a brave man," I answered, "I can only stay and help her." + +"I am glad you are of that mind, Monsieur, for it is what I think. That +is what _I_ had to say to you." + +"Then the only question is, how can I be of use to the Countess? She +must be released from this imprisonment." + +"There I agree with you again. She ought to be taken away--far out of +reach of the Count's vengeance--before he has time to make her plight +worse than it is, or carry out any design against her life. But even if +she remained as she is, her health would not long endure it." + +"Now that matters have come to this pass, no doubt she is willing to run +away." + +"Not yet, Monsieur. That is for me to persuade her. But if we form some +plan of escape now, I hope I can win her consent before the time comes +to carry it out." + +"I trust so. When she repelled the idea of escape, the day I saw her in +the garden, things had not gone so far. And then she thought there was +no safe place of refuge for her. But I can find a place. And she thought +an attempt must be hopeless because the Count would be swift to pursue. +But if we got some hours' start, going at night--" + +"Yes, certainly it will have to be at night, Monsieur. The Count has the +roads watched from the tower, for some purpose of his own--I think he +expects some enemy." + +"You still have the key to the postern?" + +"It must be where I left it--buried under the rose-bush nearest the +postern itself. But the first thing is, to get out of the room in the +tower." + +"Certainly. It would not be possible for Madame to get out as you have +done--by a disguise, I mean?" + +"No, Monsieur. Brigitte is the only one who comes to us, with whom she +might change clothes. And Madame is not at all of Brigitte's figure--nor +could she mimic Brigitte's walk as I can. She could not act a part in +the slightest degree. And I know that Madame would never consent to go +and leave me behind to bear the Count's wrath. We must all three go +together. Besides Brigitte comes and goes in the daytime, and Madame +must escape at night." + +"Yes, that is certain. It is hard to devise a plan in a moment. If I +could think of it over night, and you come to me again to-morrow--but +no, you may not be able to play this same trick again--the guards may +detect you going back." + +"That is true, and I have thought of one plan, though it may be +difficult." + +"Let me hear it, nevertheless." + +"Then listen, Monsieur. First, as to the door of our cell. It is locked +with a key, which the Count himself retains, except when he goes out, as +this afternoon,--it is then entrusted to the seneschal. I know this from +Brigitte, for the key is given to her when she comes to us. She hands it +to the guard on the landing, who opens the door and keeps the key while +she is within. When she leaves us, he locks the door, and she takes the +key back to the Count or seneschal. But in order to release Madame, you +must have that key." + +"And how am I to get it?" + +"After Brigitte's last visit to us before the night we select, she will +give the Count or seneschal, not the real key to our cell, but another +of the same size and general shape--she has access to unimportant keys +about the house. Then she will bring the real key to you." + +"But poor Brigitte!--when the Count investigates in the morning, he will +find she has given him the wrong key." + +Mathilde thought a moment. "No; he will rather suppose you robbed him of +the right key during the night and substituted the other to delay +discovery. He will suspect anything rather than Brigitte, whom he thinks +too great a fool for the least craft; and even if she is accused, she +can play the innocent. I assure you." + +"So much for that, then. There is yet the door of entrance to the +tower." + +"At present it has an old broken key in the lock, which is therefore +useless. But no doubt that will be remedied--so we must act soon. +Meanwhile, that door is guarded by the man at the foot of the stairs." + +"But are the two guards on duty at night also? There is no Brigitte to +be let in and out then. And surely the Count doesn't think you can break +your lock." + +"There are guards on duty, nevertheless. Last night I heard one call +down the stairs to another, asking the time. They are there, no doubt, +not for fear of our breaking out, but for fear of somebody breaking in +to help Madame. I don't suppose there are ever more than two. If the +rule has not been changed, the rest of the household sleeps, except a +porter in the gate-house and a man on top of the tower. But this man +watches the roads, as well as he can in the darkness, and the porter too +is more concerned about people who might want to enter the chateau than +about what goes on inside. So in the dead of night you can go silently +downstairs and let yourself out of the hall--" + +"But is not the hall door locked with a key?" + +"Yes; but the key is left always in the lock. You have then only to +cross the two court-yards to the lower, without making any noise to +alarm the porter at the gate-house or to warn the guard at the tower +entrance." + +"Will he be inside or outside the tower door, I wonder?" + +"Probably inside, where there is a bench just at the foot of the stairs. +He and his comrade above will be your only real difficulty, Monsieur. If +you can take them by surprise, one at a time--" + +"One at a time, or two at a time," said I, beginning to walk up and down +the chamber, and grasping my sword and dagger. "But the trouble will be, +the noise that may be made when I encounter them,--it may arouse the +chateau and spoil all." + +"But heaven may grant that you will surprise the men inside the tower, +one at the foot of the stairs, the other on our landing, as they must +have been last night. In that case, if you can keep the fighting inside +the tower, till--" + +"Till they are dead. Yes, in that case, if I am expeditious, no noise +may be heard outside. That is a thing to aim for. If they, or one, +should be outside, I can rush in and so draw them after me. Well, and +when I have done for them--?" + +"Then you have but to unlock our door, and Madame and I will join +you.--You will know our door by there being a stool in the landing +before it--the guard sits there.--Well, then we must fly silently +through the court-yards and the hall, let ourselves out to the +terrace--there are two or three ways I know,--and run through the garden +to the postern. Once out of these walls, we must hurry across the fields +to the house of a certain miller--" + +"Hugues? Yes." + +"Yes, Monsieur. The watchman on the tower will not see us in the fields, +for we shall keep close to the woods till we are at a distance. Hugues +can supply two horses, at least, and you and Madame must be as far away +as possible by daylight." + +"And you, Mathilde?" + +"Unless we can get three horses, I will lie hid at Hugues's mill till +Madame finds time to send for me. It will be suitable enough--Hugues and +I are to be married some day." + +"But I have a horse at the inn at Montoire. If I can get it out at that +hour, you can come with us--to whatever place we may decide upon." + +"As to that place, you may consider in the meanwhile. There will be time +to discuss the matter with Madame when she is escaping with you. The +first thing is, to get as far from Lavardin as possible. And now when is +all this to be done?" + +"The sooner the better, for who knows when the Count may take into his +head some new idea?" + +"Yes, of harm to Madame or to yourself." + +"Why should we not choose this very night?" + +"I see no reason against it--except that I may not be able to persuade +Madame. But yet there will be several hours--and surely heaven will help +me!--Yes, to-night! There is nothing for me to do but persuade Madame, +and see that we are dressed as suitably for travel as the clothes at +hand will permit. But first, before Brigitte comes away, I must instruct +her about the key. At what hour will you come, Monsieur?" + +"As soon as the house is asleep." + +"Fortunately, early hours are kept here, as there is never any company. +But the Count and the Captain stay at their cups till ten or eleven +o'clock." + +"Then by that time they must have drunk enough to make them fall asleep +as soon as they are in bed." + +"And sometimes before they are in bed, I have heard the servants say." + +"Then I will leave my room at half-past eleven, but will make sure that +the hall is dark and empty before I proceed." + +"And may the saints aid you, Monsieur, when you have to do with the men +at the tower!" + +"The men will not be expecting me, that is one advantage," said I, +trying to seem calm, but trembling with excitement. "If all goes well, +we should be out of the chateau soon after midnight." + +"And at Hugues's house before one o'clock. You should be on +horseback--the Countess and you--by half-past one. Have you money, +Monsieur?" + +"Yes,--this purse is nearly as full as when I left home." + +"That is well, for Madame has none, and I don't know how much Hugues +could get together in ten minutes. I have ten crowns in his strong-box, +which Madame shall have." + +"They shall stay in Hugues's strong-box, and his own money too. I have +enough." + +"Then I believe that is all, Monsieur, and I'd better be going back. Be +on the watch for Brigitte with the key. Do you think of anything else?" + +We went hurriedly over the various details of the plan, and then she +took her leave, darting along the passage as swiftly as a greyhound and +as silently as a ghost. I sat down to think upon what I had undertaken, +but my mind was in a whirl. Strangely enough, I, the victor of a single +duel, did not shrink from the idea of killing the two guards--or as many +as there might be. Perhaps this was because they were sure to be rascals +whose lives one could not value very highly, especially as against that +of the Countess. Nor did I feel greatly the odds against me, in regard +both to their number and to my inexperience in such business. Perhaps +the apparent confidence of Mathilde in my ability to dispose of them--a +confidence based on my being a gentleman and they underlings--infected +me. And yet I chose not to go too deeply into the probabilities. My +safest course, for my courage, was not to think too much, but to wait +for the moment and then do my best. + +It seemed but a short time till there was a tap at my door, and in came +the real Brigitte. + +"Mathilde got back safe, Monsieur; she was not detected," she said, and +handed me a large key. + +Ere more could pass, she was gone. I put the key in my breast pocket. It +was now time I should show myself to the Count and his friend at table; +which I proceeded to do, as boldly as if I had entertained no design +against them. They were just back from their ride. It was strange with +what outward coolness I was able to carry myself, by dint of not +thinking too closely on what I had undertaken. For observe that, besides +the immediate task of the night, there was Madame's whole future +involved. And how precipitately Mathilde and I had settled upon our +course, without pausing to consider if some more prudent measures might +not be taken to the same end! But I was hurried by my feeling that I +ought to save Madame, the more because no one could say how far the +present situation was due to my having killed De Merri, and to my advent +at the chateau. Even though she might choose not to escape, it was for +me to give her the opportunity, at least. And to tell the truth, I +longed to see her again, at any cost. As for Mathilde, there were her +pressing fears of a worse fate for her mistress, to excuse her haste. +And we were both young, and thought that any project which goes straight +and smoothly in the telling must go straight and smoothly in the doing; +and we looked not far ahead. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE WINDING STAIRS + + +I left the table early, and went to my room. I tore two strips from the +sheet of my bed, and wrapped them around my boots so as to cover the +soles and deaden my footsteps. Slowly the night came, with stars and a +moon well toward the full. But we could keep in shadow while about the +chateau, and the light would aid our travelling later. At half-past ten +o'clock, the house seemed so still I thought the Count must have gone to +bed before his usual time. I stole noiselessly from my room, feeling my +way; and partly down the stairs. But when I got to the head of the lower +flight, I saw that the hall was still lighted. I peered over the +railing. The Count and the Captain were alone, except for two knaves who +sat asleep on their bench at the lower end of the hall. The Count +lounged limply back in his great chair at the head of the table, +unsteadily holding a glass of wine; and the Captain leaned forward on +the board, narrowly regarding the Count. Both were well gone in wine, +the Count apparently the more so. There was a look of mental torment on +the Count's face. + +"Yes, I know, I know," he said, wincing at his own words as if they +pierced him. "There was opportunity enough with that De Merri. I was +blind then. And with this new puppy! Women and lovers have the ingenuity +of devils in devising opportunities. And they both admit their interview +in the garden. But that he could have his way so soon--is that entirely +probable?" + +He looked at the Captain almost beseechingly, as if for a spark of hope. + +The Captain spoke with the calm certainty of wisdom gained through a +world of experience: + +"Young blood is quickly stirred. Young lips are quickly drawn to one +another. Young arms are quick to reach out, and young bodies quick to +yield to them." + +The Count uttered a cry of pain and wrath, his eyes fixed as though upon +the very scene the Captain imagined. + +"The wretches!" said the tortured Count, staggering to his feet. "And I +am the Count de Lavardin!" + +[Illustration: "'THE WRETCHES!' SAID THE TORTURED COUNT, STAGGERING TO +HIS FEET."] + +"The greater nobleman you, the greater conquest for a young nobody to +boast of. It is a fine thought for adventurous youth.--'A great lord, +and a rich, but it is I, an unknown stripling, who really have possessed +what he thinks his dearest treasure.'" + +The Count gave a kind of agonized moan, and went lurching across the +hall, spilling some wine from his glass. "And a man of my years, too!" +he said, with an accent of self-pity. + +"The older the husband, the merrier the laugh at his expense," said the +Captain. + +The Count ground his teeth, and muttered to himself. + +"It is always their boasting that betrays them," went on the Count. +"When I was young, they used to tell of a famous love affair between the +Bussy d'Amboise of that day and the Countess de Montsoreau, wife of the +Grand-huntsman. It came out through Bussy's writing to the King's +brother that he had stolen the hind of the Grand-huntsman. That is how +these young cocks always speak of their conquests. + +"Ah, I remember that. He did the right thing, that Montsoreau! He forced +his false wife to make an appointment with Bussy, and when Bussy came, +it was a dozen armed men who kept the appointment, and the gay lover +died hanging from a window. Yes, that Montsoreau!--but he should have +killed the woman too! The perfidious creatures! Mon dieu!--when I +married her--when she took the vows--she was the picture of fidelity--I +could have staked my soul that she was true; that from duty alone she +was mine always, only mine!" + +He lamented not as one hurt in his love, but as one outraged in his +right of possession and in his dignity and pride. And curiously enough, +his last words caused a look of jealousy to pass across the face of the +Captain. This look, unnoticed by the Count, and speedily repressed, came +to me as a revelation. It seemed to betray a bitter envy of the Count's +mere loveless and unloved right of possession; and it bespoke the +resolve that, if the Captain might not have her smiles, not even her +husband might be content in his rights. Such men will give a woman to +death rather than to any other man. As in a flash, then, I saw his +motive in working upon the Count's insane jealousy. Better the Count +should kill her than that even the Count should possess her. I shuddered +to think how near to murder the Count had been wrought up but a moment +since. At any time his impulse might pass the bounds. I now understood +Mathilde's apprehensions, and saw the need for haste in removing the +Countess far from the power of this madman and his malign instigator. + +The Count, exhausted by his rush of feelings, drained his glass, and +almost immediately gave way to the sudden drowsiness which befalls +drinkers at a certain stage. He staggered to his seat, and fell back in +a kind of daze, the Captain watching him with cold patience. Thinking +they would soon be going to bed, I slipped back to my room. + +A little after eleven, I went forth again. The hall was now dark, and +its silence betokened desertion. I groped my way to the door. The key +turned more noisily than I should have wished, and there was a bolt to +undo, which grated; but I heard no sound of alarm in the house. I +stepped out to the court-yard, closing the door after me. The court-yard +was bathed in moonlight. Keeping close to the house, so as not to be +visible from any upper window, I gained the shadow of the wall +separating the two court-yards. As noiselessly as a cat, I followed that +wall to its gateway; entered the second court-yard, and saw that the +door to the tower was open, a faint light coming from it. The tower +itself, obstructing the moon's rays, threw its shadow across the +paving-stones. I stepped into that shadow, which was only partial; drew +my sword and dagger, and darted straight for the tower entrance, +stopping just inside the doorway. By the light of a lantern hanging +against the wall, I saw a kind of small vestibule, beyond which was an +inner wall, and at one side of which was the beginning of a narrow +spiral staircase, that ran up between walls until it wound out of sight. +On a bench against the inner wall I have mentioned, sat a man, who rose +at sight of me, with one hand grasping a sword, and with the other a +pike that was leaning against the bench. + +He was a heavy, squat fellow, with short, thick legs and short, thick +arms. + +"I give you one chance for your life," said I quickly. "Help me to +escape with your prisoner, and leave the Count's service for mine." + +After a moment's astonishment, the man grunted derisively, and made a +lunge at my breast with his pike. I caught the pike with my left hand, +still holding my dagger therein, and forced it downward. At the same +time I thrust with my rapier, but he parried with his own sword. I +thrust instantly again, and would have pinned him to the wall if he had +not sprung aside. He was now with his back to the stairs, and neither of +us had let go the pike. His sword-point darted at me a second time, but +I avoided, and thrust in return. Not quite ready to parry, he escaped by +falling back upon the narrow stone steps. Before I could attack, he was +on his feet again, and on the second step. We still held to the pike, +which troubled me much, both as an impediment to free sword-play and as +depriving me of the use of my dagger. I suddenly fell back, trying to +jerk it from his grasp; but his grip was too firm. He jerked the pike in +turn, and I let go, thinking the unexpected release might cause him a +fall. + +He did not fall; but I pressed close with sword and dagger before he +could bring the pike to use, and he backed further up the stairs. He +caught the pike nearer the point, that he might wield it better at close +quarters; but the long handle made it an awkward weapon, by striking +against the wall, which continually curved behind him. We were sword to +sword, and against my dagger he had his pike, but the dagger was the +freer weapon for defence though not so far-reaching for attack. + +The man was very strong, but he had the shorter thrust and offered the +broader target. We continued at it, thrust and parry, give and take. All +the time he retreated up the winding staircase, which was so narrow that +we had little elbow room, and this was to his advantage as he needed +less than I. Another thing soon came to his advantage: the stairs curved +out of the light cast by the lantern below, so that he backed into +darkness, yet I was still visible to him. I cannot tell by what sense I +knew where to meet his sword-point, yet certainly my dagger rang against +it each time it would have stung me out of the dark. As for his pike, I +now kept it busy enough in meeting my own thrusts. Whether or not I was +drawn by the knowledge that the Countess was above, I continued to +attack so incessantly, and with such good reach, that my antagonist +still retreated upward. I followed him into the darkness; and then the +advantage was with me, as being slender. + +Hitherto I had offered him my full front, but now I half turned my back +to the wall, so that his blade might scarce find me at all, and that I +might stand less danger of being forced backward off my feet. Well, so +we prodded the darkness with our steel feelers in search of each other's +bodies on those narrow stairs, striking sparks from the stone walls +which our weapons were bound to meet by reason of the continual +curvature. + +At last the broad form of my adversary was suddenly thrown into faint +light by a narrow window in the wall. I staked all upon one swift +thrust. It caught him full in the belly, and ran how far up his body I +know not. With a cry he fell forward, and I was hard put to it to save +my sword and avoid going down with him. But I got myself and my sword +free, and went on up the stairs as fast as I could feel my way. + +In a few moments I heard steps coming from above, and a rough voice +shouting down, "Ho, Gaspard, did you call? What the devil's up?" It was +the other guard, who must have been asleep to have been deaf to the +clash of our weapons, but whom his comrade's death-cry had roused. I +trusted that the walls of the tower had confined that death-cry from the +chateau; fortunately, the narrow window was toward the open fields. + +I stopped where I was. When the man's steps sounded a few feet from me, +I said "Halt!" and, telling him his comrade was dead, proposed the terms +I had offered the latter. There was a moment's silence: then a clicking +sound, and finally a great flash of fiery light with a loud report, and +the smell of smoke. By good luck I had flattened myself against the wall +before speaking, and the charge whizzed past me. Thinking the man might +have another pistol in readiness, I stood still. But he turned and ran +up the stairs. I stumbled after him. + +Presently the stairway curved into light such as we had left at the +bottom. The guard ran on in the light, and finally stepped forth to a +landing no wider than the stairs; where there hung a lantern over a +three-legged stool, beyond which was a door. At sight of this my heart +bounded. + +At the very edge of the landing the man turned and faced me, pointing a +second pistol. As the wheel moved, I dropped forward. The thing missed +fire entirely, and, flinging it down with a curse, the man drew his +sword and seized a pike that stood against the wall. I charged +recklessly up the steps, bending my body to avoid the pike. It went +through my doublet, just under the left armpit. Ere he could disencumber +it I pressed forward upon the landing. I turned his sword with my +dagger, and thrust with my own sword under the pike, piercing his side. +Only wounded, he leaped back, drawing the pike from my clothes. He aimed +at me again with that weapon. In bending away from it, I fell on my +side, but instantly turned upon my back. + +The man moved to stand over me. I let go my sword, and caught the pike +in my hand as it descended. He then tried to spit me with his sword, but +I checked its point with the guard of my dagger. I thought I was near my +end. He had only to draw up his sword for another downward thrust; but +there was a sudden faltering, or hesitation, in his movements, probably +a blindness of his eyes, the effect of his wound. In that instant of his +uncertainty, I swung my dagger around and ran it through his leg. He +fell forward upon me, nearly driving the breath out of my body. My +dagger arm, extended as it had been, was fortunately free. I crooked my +elbow, embraced my adversary, and sank the dagger deep into his back. I +felt his quiver of death. + +After I had rolled his body off me, and sheathed my sword and dagger, I +took out the key and unlocked the door. Inside the vaulted room of +stone, which was lighted by a candle, stood the Countess and Mathilde. + +The Countess, beautiful in her pallor, and looking more angel than woman +in the plain robe of blue that clothed her slight figure, met me with a +face of mingled reproach, pity, and horror. Mathilde was in tears and +utterly downcast. I could see at a glance how matters stood, and ere I +had made two steps beyond the threshold, I stopped, abashed. + +"Oh, Monsieur, the blood!" cried the Countess sadly, pointing to my +doublet. + +"It is that of your two guards," I said. "I am not hurt." + +"I am glad you are not hurt. But oh, why did you put this bloodshed upon +your soul?" + +"To save you, Madame." + +"Alas, I know. It is not for me to blame you--but could you think I +would escape--leave the house of my husband--become a fugitive wife?" + +I saw how firm she was in her resolution for all her fragility of body, +and I scarce knew what to say. + +"Madame, think! He is your husband, yes,--but your persecutor. Where you +should have protection, you receive--this." I waved my hand about her +prison. "Where you should find safety, you are in mortal danger." + +"I know all that, Monsieur,--have known it from the first. But shall I +play the runaway on that account? Think what you propose--that I, a +wedded wife, shall fly from my husband's roof with a gentleman who is +not even of kin to me! Then indeed would my good name deserve to +suffer." + +"But Madame, heaven knows, as I do, that you are the truest of wives." + +"Then let me still deserve that title as my consolation, whatever I may +have to endure." + +"But to flee from such indignity as this--such slander--such peril of +death--" + +"It is for me to bear these things," she interrupted, "if he to whom I +vowed myself in marriage inflicts them upon me. If they be wrongs, it is +I who must suffer but not I who must answer to heaven for them! I may be +sinned against, but I will not sin. Though he fail in a husband's duty, +I will not fail in a wife's. Do you not understand, Monsieur, it is not +the things done to us, but the things we do, that we are accountable +for?" + +"But I can see no sin in your fleeing from the evils that beset you +here, Madame." + +"Nay, even if it were not a violation of my marriage vow, it would have +the appearance of sin, and that we are to avoid. And it would be to +throw away my one hope, that my husband's heart may yet be softened, and +his eyes opened to my innocence." + +"Alas! I trust it may turn out a true hope, Madame," said I sadly. + +"Heaven has caused such things to occur before now," she replied. "As +for you, Monsieur, I must never cease to thank you for your chivalrous +intent, as I shall thank my good Mathilde for her devotion. And I will +ever pray for you. And now, if you would make my lot easier--if you +would remove one anxiety from my heart, and give me one solace--you will +leave this chateau immediately. Save yourself, I beg. Monsieur: let +there be no more blood shed on my account, and that blood yours! +Mathilde can let you out at the postern--she knows where the key is +hidden. She tells me you have a horse at Montoire. Go, Monsieur--lose +not another moment--I implore--nay, if you will recognize me as mistress +of this house, I command." + +I bowed low. She offered me her hand: I kissed it. + +"It will not be necessary for Mathilde to come to the postern," said I. +"I know another way out of the chateau. Adieu, Madame!" It was all I +could manage to say without the breaking of my voice. I turned and left +the room, closing the door that the Countess and Mathilde might be +spared the sight of the body on the landing. I then, for a reason, took +the key, leaving the door unlocked. I groped my way down the stairs, +taking care not to trip over the body below. I crossed the court-yards +without any care for secrecy, entered the hall, and sat down upon a +bench near the door. + +When I had told the Countess I knew another way out of the chateau, I +meant only the front gateway. But I did not intend immediately to try +that way. I intended, for a purpose which had suddenly come into my +head, to wait in the hall till morning and be the first to greet the +Count when he appeared. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +MORE THAN MERE PITY + + +What I stayed to do was something the Countess herself could do, and +probably would do one way or another, if indeed mere circumstances would +not do it of themselves: though I felt that none could as I could. But +to tell the truth, even if I could not have brought myself to turn my +back on that place while she was in such unhappy plight there. + +After I had sat awhile in the hall, I went to my room, lighted a candle, +and cleansed myself and my weapons, and my clothes as well as I could, +of blood. Having put myself to rights, though the rents in my doublet +were still gaping, I went back to the bench in the hall, and passed the +rest of the night there, sleeping and awake by turns. + +At dawn I heard steps and voices in the court-yard as of early risen +dependents starting the day. Silence returned for a few minutes, and +then came the noise of hurrying feet, and of shouts. There was rapid +talk between somebody in the court-yard and somebody at an upper window. +I knew it meant that the bodies of the two guards had been discovered, +doubtless by the men who had gone to relieve them. In a short time, down +the stairs came the Count de Lavardin, his doublet still unfastened, +followed by two body-servants. He came in haste toward the front door, +but I rose and stood in his path. + +"A moment, Monsieur Count. There's no need of haste. You'll find your +prisoner safe enough." + +"What do you mean?" he asked, having stopped in sheer wonder at my +audacity. + +"Madame the Countess has not flown, though it is true her guards are +slain--I slew them. And Madame the Countess will not fly, though it is +true her prison door is unlocked--I unlocked it--with this key, which I +borrowed from you last night." + +He took the key I handed him, and stared at it in amazement. He then +thrust his hand into his doublet pocket and drew out another key, which +he held up beside the first, looking from one to the other. + +"Yes," said I, "that is a different key, which I left in place of the +right one so that you might not discover the loan too soon." + +He gazed at me with a mixture of fury and surprise, as at an antagonist +whose capacity he must have previously underrated. + +"By the horns of Satan," he exclaimed, "you are the boldest of meddling +imps." + +"I have meddled to good purpose," said I, "though my meddling has not +turned out as I planned. But it has turned out so as to bring you peace +of mind, at least in one respect." + +"What are you talking of?" + +"You see that I possessed myself of that key; that I fought my way to +the prison of the Countess; that I threw open her prison door." + +"And believe me, you shall pay for your ingenuity and daring, my brave +youth." + +"All that was but the beginning of what I was resolved and able to do. I +had prepared our way of escape from the chateau." + +"I am not sure of that." + +"You may laugh with your lips, Count, but I laugh at you in my heart. +Don't think Monsieur de Pepicot is the only man who can get out of the +Chateau de Lavardin." + +The reminder somewhat sobered the Count. + +"I had the means, too," I went on, "to fly with Madame far from this +place. We might indeed have been a half-day's ride away by this time. I +assure you it is true. Let what I have done convince you of what more I +could have done. You don't think I should have gone so far as I have, +unless I was sure of going further, do you?" + +The Count shrugged his shoulders, pretending derision, but he waited for +me. + +"And why did I not go further?" I continued. "Because the Countess would +not. Because she is the truest of wives. Because, when I opened her +door, she met me with a stern rebuke for supposing her capable of flying +from your roof. Ah, Monsieur, it would have set your mind at rest, if +you had heard her. She bows to your will, though it may crush her, +because you are her husband. Never was such pious fidelity to marriage +vows. Her only hope is that your mind may be cleared of its false doubts +of her." + +The Count looked impressed. He had become thoughtful, and a kind of +grateful ease seemed to show itself upon his brow. I was pleasing myself +with the belief that I had thus, in an unexpected way, convinced him of +the Countess's virtue, when a voice at my side broke in upon my +satisfaction. I had so closely kept my attention upon the Count that I +had not observed Captain Ferragant come down the stairs. It was he that +now spoke, in his cool, quiet, scoffing tone: + +"Perhaps the Countess had less faith in this gentleman's power to convey +her safely away than he seems to have had himself. Perhaps she saw a +less promising future for a renegade wife than he could picture to her. +Perhaps she, too, perceived the value of her refusal to run away, as +evidence of virtue in the eyes of a credulous husband." + +The Count's forehead clouded again. I turned indignantly upon the +Captain, but addressed my words to the Count, saying: + +"Monsieur, you will pardon me, but it seems to a stranger that you allow +this gentleman great liberties of speech. Men of honour do not, as a +rule, even permit their friends to defame their wives." + +"This gentleman is in my confidence," said the Count, his grey face +reddening for a moment. "It is you, a stranger as you say, who have +taken great liberties in speaking of my domestic affairs. But you shall +pay for them, young gentleman. Your youth makes your presumption all the +greater, and shall not make your punishment the less. I will trouble +you, Captain, to see that he stays here till I return." + +At this the Count, motioning his attendants to follow, who had stood out +of earshot of our lowered voices, passed on to the court-yard, and +thence, of course, to the prison of the Countess. + +The Captain stood looking at me with that expression of antipathy and +ridicule which I always found it so hard to brook. I had some thought of +defying the Count's last words and walking away to see what the Captain +would do. But I reflected that this course must end in my taking down, +unless I made good a sudden flight from the chateau by the gate; and if +I made that I should be fleeing from the Countess. So the best thing was +to be submissive, and not bring matters, as between the Count and me, to +a crisis. Perhaps a way to help the Countess might yet occur, if I +stayed upon the scene to avail myself of it. And in any case by +continuing there in as much freedom as the Count might choose to allow +me, I might have at least the chance of another sight of her. + +So, while we waited half an hour or so in the hall, I gave the Captain +no trouble, not even that of speech, which he disdained to take on his +own initiative. + +The Count returned, looking agitated, as if he had been in a storm of +anger which had scarce had time to subside. His glance at me was more +charged with hate and menace than ever before. He beckoned the Captain +to the other end of the hall, and there they talked for awhile in +undertones, the Count often shaking his head quickly, and taking short +walks to and fro; sometimes he clenched his fists, or breathed heavy +sighs of irritation, or darted at me a swift look of malevolence and +threat. I could only assume that something had passed between the +Countess and him during his visit to her prison--perhaps she had shown +anxiety as to whether I had fled--which had suddenly quickened and +increased his jealousy of me. + +At last the Count seemed to accept some course advised by his friend. He +came towards me, the Captain following with slower steps. In a dry +voice, well under control, the Count said to me: + +"Permit me to relieve you, Monsieur, of the burden of those weapons you +carry. I am annoyed that you should think it desirable to wear them in +my house, as if it were the road." + +Startled, I put my hands on the hilts of my sword and dagger, and took a +step backward. + +"Your annoyance is somewhat strange, Monsieur," said I, "considering +that you and the Captain wear your swords indoors as well as out. I +thought it was the custom of this house." + +"If so," replied the Count, with his ghastly smile, "it is a custom that +a guest forfeits the benefit of by killing two of my dependents. Come, +young gentleman. Don't be so rude as to make me ask twice." + +The Captain now stepped forward more briskly, his hand on his own sword. +Taking his motion as a threatening one, and scarce knowing what to do, I +drew my weapons upon impulse and presented, not the handles, but the +points. But ere I could think, the Captain's long rapier flashed out, it +moved so swiftly I could not see it, and my own sword was torn from my +grip and sent whirring across the hall. In the next instant, the guard +of the Captain's sword was locked against the guard of my dagger, and +his left hand gripped my wrist. It was such a trick as a fencing master +might have played on a new pupil, or as I had heard attributed to my +father but had never seen him perform. It showed me what a swordsman +that red Captain was, and how much I had yet to learn ere I dared +venture against such an adversary. And there was his bold red-splashed +face close to mine, smiling in derision of my surprise and discomfiture. +He was beginning to exert his strength upon my wrist--that strength +which had choked and flung away the great hound. To save my arm, I let +go my dagger. The Captain put his foot on it till an attendant, whom the +Count had summoned, stooped for it. My sword was picked up by another +man, whereupon, at the Count's command, it was hung upon a peg in the +wall, and the dagger attached to the handle of the sword. The two men +were then ordered to guard me, one at each side. They were burly +fellows, armed with daggers. + +"Well, Monsieur, what next?" said I in as scornful a tone as I could +command. + +"Patience, Monsieur; you will see." + +There was a low, narrow door in the side of the hall, near the front. At +the Count's bidding, an attendant opened this, and I was marched into a +very small, bare room, the ceiling of which was scarce higher than my +head. This apartment had evidently been designed as a doorkeeper's box. +It's only furniture was a bench. A mere eyehole of a window in the +corner looked upon the court-yard. + +"Remember," I called back to the Count, "you cannot put injuries upon me +with impunity. An account will be exacted in due time." + +"Remember, you," he replied with a laugh, "that you have murdered two +men here, and are subject to my sentence." + +My guards left me in the room, and stationed themselves outside the +door, which was then closed upon me. There was no lock to the door, but +it was possible to fasten the latch on the outside, and this was done, +as I presently discovered by trial. + +I sat on the bench, and gazed out upon as much of the court-yard as the +window showed. Suddenly the window was darkened by something placed +against it outside,--a man's doublet propped up by a pike, or some such +device. I could not guess why they should cut off my light, unless as a +mere addition to the tediousness of my restraint. I disdained to show +annoyance, though I might have thrust my arm through the window and +displaced the obstruction. Later I saw the reason: it was to prevent my +seeing who passed through the court-yard. + +It seemed an hour until suddenly my door was flung open. In the doorway +appeared the Captain, beckoning me to come forth. I did so. + +Half-way up the hall, a little at one side, stood the Count. Near him, +and looking straight toward me, sat the Countess in a great arm-chair. +Besides the Captain and myself, those two were the only persons in the +hall. Even my guards had disappeared, and all doors leading from the +hall were shut. + +The Countess, as I have said, was looking straight toward me. Her eyes +had followed the Captain to my door, she wondering what was to come out +of it. For assuredly she had not expected me to come out of it. She had +still trusted that I had gone away in the night--the Count had not told +her otherwise. Her surprise at seeing me was manifest in her startled +look, which was followed by a low cry of compassionate regret. + +The Count had been watching her with a painful intentness. He had not +even turned his eyes to see me enter, having trusted to his ears to +apprise him. At her display of concern, the skin of his face tightened; +though that display was no more than any compassionate lady might have +given in a similar case. Even the Count, after a moment, appeared to +think more reasonably of her demeanour. + +I bowed to her, and stood waiting for what might follow, the Captain +near me. + +The Count, turning toward me for an instant to show it was I he +addressed, but fixing his gaze again upon his wife and keeping it there +while he continued speaking to me, delivered himself thus, with mocking +irony: + +"Monsieur, I will not be so trifling or so churlish as to keep you in +doubt regarding your fate. In this chateau, where the right of doom lies +in me, you have been, by plain evidence and your own confession, guilty +of the murder of two men. As to what other and worse crimes you have +intended, I say nothing. What you have done is already too much. There +is only one sufficient punishment. You may thank me for granting you +time of preparation. I will give you two days--a liberal allowance, you +will admit--during which you shall be lodged in a secure place, where in +solitude and quiet you may put yourself in readiness for death." + +The Countess rose with a cry, "No, no!" Her face and voice were charged +with something so much more than mere compassion, that I forgot my doom +in a wild sweet exultation. At what he perceived, the Count uttered a +fierce, dismayed ejaculation. The Captain looked at once triumphant and +resentful. + +"It is enough!" cried the Count hoarsely. "The truth is clear!" + +He motioned me away, and the Captain pushed me back into the little +room, quickly fastening the door. But my feeling was still one of +ecstasy rather than horror, for still I saw the Countess's tender eyes +in grief for me, still saw her arms reaching out toward me, still heard +her voice full of wild protest at my sentence. It was to surprise her +real feelings that she had been brought to hear, in my presence, my doom +pronounced; and my window had been obstructed that our confrontation +might be as sudden to me as to her, lest by a prepared look I might put +her on her guard. This it was that the Captain had suggested, and +excellently it had served. That moment's revelation of her heart, though +it brought such sweetness into my soul, could only make her fate worse +and my sentence irrevocable. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE RAT-HOLE AND THE WATER-JUG + + +I had not been back in the little room a minute, when it occurred to me +to reach through the window and displace the obstruction. I was in time +to see the Countess escorted back across the court-yard by her husband. +This could mean only that she was again to occupy her prison in the +tower. I was glad at least to know where she was, that I might imagine +her in her surroundings, of which I had obtained so brief a glimpse. + +Presently my door opened slightly, that my breakfast might be passed in +on a trencher; and again an hour later, that the trencher might be taken +out. Soon after that, the door was thrown wide, and a man of some +authority, whom I had already taken to be the seneschal of the chateau, +courteously requested me to step forth. When I did so, he told me my +lodging was ready and bade me follow. At my elbows were two powerful +armed servitors of this strange half-military household, to escort me. + +I had a moment's hope that I might be taken to some chamber in the great +tower; I should thus be nearer the Countess. But such was not the +Count's will. I was conducted to the hall staircase, and up two flights, +thence along the corridor past my former sleeping chamber, and finally +by a small stairway to a sort of loft at that very corner of the chateau +against which the great tower was built. + +It was a small chamber with one window and an unceiled roof that sloped +very low at the sides. I suppose it had been used as a store-room for +rubbish. Two worm-eaten chests were its only furniture. On one of these +were a basin, a jug of water, and a towel. On the other were a blanket, +a sheet, and a pillow. Here then were my bed and wash-stand. There was +still space left on the first chest to serve me as dining-table. + +Before I could find anything to say upon these meagre accommodations for +a gentleman's last lodging in this world, the seneschal bade me +good-day, the door was closed and locked, and I was left to my +reflections. The room not having been designed as a prison, there was no +grilled opening in the door, and I was not exposed to the guard's view. + +The Count might have kept me in my former chamber, thought I, the time +being so short. Perhaps he feared my making a rope of bed clothes and +dropping to the terrace. As for the little room off the hall, it had no +real lock, and the guards might become sleepy at night. But why did he +make this respite of two days? Was it to give himself time for devising +some peculiarly humiliating and atrocious form of death? Or was it mere +ironical pretence of mercy in his justice, and might I be surprised with +the fatal summons as soon as he was in the humour for it? To this day, I +do not clearly know,--or whether he had other matters for his immediate +care; or indeed whether, at the instant of pronouncing my sentence in +order to discover the Countess's feelings, he actually intended carrying +it out. + +In any case, now that her heart had betrayed itself, I had little hope +of mercy. What came nearest to daunting me was the thought that, if I +died, my people might never know for certain what had been my fate, for +the Count would probably keep my death a secret, his own dependents +being silenced by interest and fear. Yet I felt I had no right to +complain of Fate. I had come from home to see danger, and here it was, +though my present adventure was something different from cutting off the +moustaches of Brignan de Brignan. And still my emotions were sweetened +by the sense of what the Countess had disclosed, fatal though that +disclosure might be to her also. + +Such were the materials of my thoughts for the first hour or so, while I +sat on the chest that was to be my bed. But suddenly there came a +sharper consciousness of what death meant, and how closely it threatened +me. I sprang up, to bestir myself in seeking if there might be some +means of escape. The situation had changed since I had willingly +lingered at the chateau in order to be near the Countess. The reluctance +to betake myself from the place where she was, had not diminished; but I +had awakened to the knowledge that my only hope of ever seeing her again +lay in present flight, if that were possible. I could serve her better +living than dead, better free than a prisoner. + +I went to the window, which was wide enough for me to put my head out. +My room was at the top of the building, and only the great tower, partly +visible at my right, rose higher toward the sky. Below me was a narrow +paved space between the house and the outer wall: it ran from the base +of the tower at my right, to the garden, far at the left. Beyond the +wall was the moat: beyond that, the country toward Montoire. If I could +let myself down to the earth by any means, I should still be on the +wrong side of the wall. But I might find the postern key, buried under +the rose bush near the postern itself. + +I looked around the room, but there was nothing that would serve as a +means of descent, except the bedding on the larger chest. This I +examined: it was the scantiest, being merely a strip of blanket and a +strip of sheet, together just sufficient to cover the top of the chest. +With the pillow cover and towel, they would not reach half-way to the +ground. + +Perhaps the chests might contain old clothes, or other materials that +would serve to eke out. I tried the lids, but both were strongly locked. +The larger chest looked very ancient and rotten: its hinges might be +loose. I pulled one end of it out from against the wall, to examine the +back. The hinges were immovable. Despondent, I ran my hand further down +the back at random, and, to my surprise, felt a small irregular hole, +through which I could thrust two fingers. It was evidently a rat hole, +for I saw now that when close to the wall, it must have corresponded to +a chink between the stones thereof. + +My fingers inside the chest came in contact with nothing but rat-bitten +papers, to my sad disappointment. But, having gone so far, I was moved +to continue until I had patiently twisted a few documents out through +the hole. I straightened and glanced at them. The edges were fretted by +the rats. One writing was an account of moneys expended for various +wines; another was a list of remedies for the diseases of horses; but +the third, when I caught its meaning and saw the name signed at the end, +made my heart jump. It was the last page of a letter, and ran thus: + + "One thing is certain, by our careful exclusion of fools and + weaklings, our plot is less liable to premature discovery than any + of those which have hitherto been attempted, and, as you say, if we + fail we have but to lock ourselves up in our chateaux till all + blows over, the K. being so busy at present with the Dutch. In that + event, my dear Count, the Chateau de Lavardin is a residence that + some of the rest of us will envy you. Your servant ever, + + "COLLOT D'ARNIOL." + +The name was that of the chief mover of the late conspiracy, who had +paid the penalty of his treason without betraying his accomplices. If +this was indeed his signature, with which the authorities were certainly +acquainted, the scrap of paper, were I free to carry it to Paris, would +put the life of the Count de Lavardin in my hands. + +To be possessed of such a weapon--such a means of rescuing the Countess +from her fearful situation--and yet lack freedom wherein to use it, was +too vexing for endurance. I resolved, rather than wait inactively for +death with that weapon useless, to employ the most reckless means of +escape. Meanwhile I pocketed the fragment of letter, and thrust the +other papers back into the chest, which I then pushed to its former +place. + +After thinking awhile, I poured the water from the heavy earthen jug +into the basin. I then sat down on the large chest, leaning forward, +elbows upon knees, my head upon my hands, the empty jug beside me as if +I had lazily left it there after drinking from it. In this attitude I +waited through a great part of the afternoon, until I began to wonder if +the Count was not going to send me any more food that day. + +At last, when the sun was low, I heard my lock turned, the door opened +into the room, and one of my new guards entered with a trencher of bread +and cold meat. With the corner of my eye, I saw that nobody was +immediately outside my door; so I assumed that my other guard, if there +were still two, was stationed at the foot of the short flight of stairs +leading to my room. The man with the food, having cast a look at me as I +sat in my listless attitude, passed me in order to put the trencher on +the other chest, which was further from the door. + +The instant his back was toward me, I silently grasped the earthen jug, +sprang after him, and brought the jug down upon the back of his head +with all my strength while he was leaning forward to place the trencher. +He staggered forward. I gave him a second blow, and he sprawled upon the +chest, which stopped his fall. + +I ran to the open door, pushed it almost shut, and waited behind it, the +jug raised in both hands. My blows and the guard's fall had not been +without noise. + +"Hola! what's that?" cried somebody outside and a little below. I gave +no answer, and presently I heard steps rapidly mounting to my door. Then +the door was lightly pushed, but I stopped it; whereupon the head of my +other guard was thrust in through the narrow opening. Down came my jug, +and the man dropped to his hands and knees, in the very act of drawing +his weapons. I struck him again, laying him prostrate. Then I dragged +him into the room, and tried to wrest his dagger from his grasp. Finding +this difficult, I ran back to the first guard, took his dagger from its +sheath as he was beginning to come to, wielded my jug once more to delay +his awakening, and, stepping over the second man's body, passed out of +the room. The man with the trencher had left the key in the lock. I +closed the door and turned the key, which I put in my pocket. I then +hastened down the stairs, fled along the deserted passage, descended the +main stairway to the story below, traversed without a moment's pause the +rooms leading to the picture gallery, crossed that and found the door at +the end unlocked, ran down the stairs of the Countess's former +apartments, unlocked the door to the garden, and sped along the walk +toward the postern. In all this, I had not seen a soul: I was carried +forward by a bracing resolve to accomplish my escape or die in +attempting it, as well as by an inspiriting faith in the saying of the +Latin poet that fortune favours the bold, and by a feeling that for me +everything depended on one swift, uninterrupted flight. + +I gained the postern; fell on my knees by the nearest rose bush, and, +choosing a spot where the soil swelled a little, dug rapidly with the +dagger, throwing the earth aside with my hand. In my impatience, much +time seemed to go: I feared that here at last I was stayed: great drops +fell from my brow upon my busy hands: I trembled and could have wept for +vexation. But suddenly my dagger struck something hard, and in a moment +I grasped the key. It opened the lock. I stood upon the ledge outside, +and re-locked the door; then dashed across the plank over the moat, and +made for the forest. + +I had no time to spare. My guards might be already returned to +consciousness and doing their best to alarm the house from within their +prison. Bloodhounds might soon be on my track. I ran along the edge of +the forest, therefore, which covered my movements till I was past the +village of St. Outrille, close to Montoire. I then altered my pace to a +walk, lest a running figure in the fields might attract the notice of +the Count's watchman on the tower; and, going in the lurching manner of +a rustic, came to a road by which I crossed the river and gained the +town. I entered the inn, sought the host, and called for my bill, +baggage, and horse. + +The innkeeper did not recognize me at first, and, when he did, showed +great wonder and curiosity at my absence. He was inclined to be +friendly, though, and, when he perceived I was in haste, did not delay +my departure with inquisitive talk. I saw that my horse had been +properly cared for in my absence, and was glad to be on its back again, +the more because I should thus leave no further scent for bloodhounds to +follow. + +I rode out of the archway and turned my horse toward the road for Les +Roches and Paris. As I crossed the square, I could not help glancing +over my right shoulder toward the Lavardin road. In doing so, I happened +to see a young man coming out of the church, whose face I knew. I +thought a moment, then reined my horse around to intercept him, and, as +he was about to pass, said in a low voice: + +"Good evening, Hugues." + +He stopped in surprise, recalling my features but not my identity. I +leaned over my horse's neck, and spoke in an undertone: + +"You will remember I met you on your way back from Sablé, whither you +had carried a certain lady's message. I have since heard of you from +that lady. She is in a most unhappy plight, and so is her maid +Mathilde." + +The young miller turned pale at this. + +"I have just escaped from the chateau," I continued, "where the Count +meant to kill me. I am going as fast as possible to Paris, where I can +use means to render him powerless. But that will take time, and +meanwhile the worst may befall the Countess--and no doubt her faithful +Mathilde also. They are imprisoned in the tower. I thank God I have met +you, for now there is one friend here to whose solicitude I may leave +that unfortunate lady and her devoted maid while I am away." + +"Monsieur," said he, with deep feeling, "I know no reason why you should +play a trick on me, and you don't look as if you were doing so. I will +trust you, therefore. But can you not come to my house, where we can +talk fully?" + +"Where is your house?" + +"About a quarter of a league down that road." He pointed toward the road +that ran northward from the square, as my road ran northeastward. "When +you are ready to go on, you can get the Paris road by a lane, without +coming back to the town." + +There were good reasons against my losing any time before starting for +Paris. But it was well, on the other hand, for Hugues to know exactly +how matters stood at the chateau. I put my reasons hastily to him, and +he said he could promise me a safe hiding-place at his mill. And I could +travel the faster in the end for a rest now, which I looked as if I +needed,--in truth, I had slept little and badly in the hall the previous +night, and the day's business had told upon me. So, perhaps most because +it was pleasant to be with a trusty companion who shared my cause of +anxiety, I agreed to go to his house for supper, and to set out after +night-fall. + +"Good!" said Hugues. "Then you had best ride ahead, Monsieur, so we are +not seen together. You can leave me now as if you had been merely asking +your way. If you ride slowly when you are out of the town, I shall catch +up." + +I did as he suggested, and he soon overtook me on the road. His house +proved to be a cottage of good size built against a mill, with a small +barn at one side of the yard and a stable at the other. When I had +dismounted at his door, we unsaddled and unbridled my horse, so that it +might pass for a new horse of his own if pursuers looked into his +stable. He then called his boy and his woman-servant, and told them what +to say if anybody came inquiring. We carried my saddle, bridle, and +portmanteau through the cottage to the mill, and thence to a small +cellar which was reached by means of a well-concealed trap-door in the +mill-floor. This cellar should be my refuge in case the Count's men came +there seeking me. + +"I made this hiding-place," said Hugues, moving his candle about to show +how well floored and walled it was, "because one could never say when +Mathilde, living in that fearful chateau, might want a place to fly to. +She would not leave her mistress, you know, though the Countess's other +women went gladly enough when the Count sent them off. Nobody knows +there is anything between Mathilde and me, Monsieur,--except the +Countess. It is safer so. We have been waiting for the Count to die, so +that all might be well with the Countess, for Mathilde could marry me +then with easy mind." + +"I hope that God will send that time soon," said I. + +"But meanwhile, this present danger?" said Hugues. + +We returned to the living-room of the cottage, and talked of the matter +while we had supper. I told Hugues everything, misrepresenting only so +far as to make it appear that the Count's jealousy was still entirely +unfounded, and that he had mistaken the Countess's feelings at our +confrontation. Whatever Hugues may have thought upon this last point, he +made no comment thereon; but he showed the liveliest sense of the +increased danger in which the Countess stood. He feared that my escape +would make her position still worse, and that her hours might be already +numbered. He considered there was not time for me to go to Paris and +return: the Countess's rescue ought to be attempted promptly, or the +attempt would be too late. + +In all this, he but echoed the feeling that had come back to me with +double force while I told him the situation. But there was the +Countess's determination not to flee. Hugues said that as this +determination must be overcome for the Countess's own sake, any pressure +that could be brought to bear upon her feelings would be justifiable. +Let it be urged upon her that if she persisted in waiting for death, +Mathilde's life also would doubtless be sacrificed; let every argument, +every persuasion be employed; let me beseech, let me reproach, let me +even use imperative means if need be. Suddenly, as he talked, I saw a +way by which I thought she might be moved. It was one chance, but enough +to commit me to the effort. + +The question now was, how to communicate with the Countess, and to +accomplish the rescue. This Hugues and I settled ere we went to bed. I +slept that night in the mill, by the trap-door. Hugues lay awake, +listening for any alarm. None came, and in the morning we agreed that +either the Count had elected not to seek me at all, or had traced me to +the inn, and, learning I had taken horse, supposed I was far out of the +neighbourhood. I stayed indoors all that day, while Hugues was absent in +furtherance of our project, the woman and boy being under strict orders +as to their conduct in the event of inquiries. In the evening Hugues +returned with various acquisitions, among them being a sword for me, and +a long rope ladder, both obtained at Troo. + +We awaited the fall of night, then set out. I upon my horse, Hugues +riding one of his and leading the other. We went by obscure lanes, +crossed the river, gained the forest, and lingered in its shades till +the church clock of Montoire struck eleven. We then proceeded through +the forest, near the edge, till we were behind the Chateau de Lavardin. + +Besides the rope-ladder, we had with us a cross-bow that Hugues owned, a +long slender cord, and a paper on which I had written some brief +instructions during the afternoon. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +THE ROPE LADDER + + +The night was starlit, though the moon would come later. We hoped to be +away from the chateau before it rose. There was a gentle breeze, which +we rather welcomed as likely to cover what little noise we might make. + +Leaving our horses tied in the forest, and taking the cross-bow and +other things, we stole along the moat skirting the Western wall, till we +were opposite the great tower. It rose toward the sky, sheer from the +black water that separated us from it by so few yards. We gazed upward, +and I pointed out the window which I thought, from its situation, must +be that of the Countess, if she still occupied her former prison. + +Our first plan depended upon her still occupying that prison, or some +other with an unbarred window in that side of the tower; and upon her +being still accompanied by Mathilde. + +If the man on top of the tower were to look down now, thought I! We had +considered that chance. It was not likely he would come to the edge of +the tower and look straight down. His business apparently was to watch +the road at a distance and in both directions. He could do this best +from the Northeastern part of the tower. From what I knew now, I could +guess why the Count had stationed him there: a conspirator never knows +when he is safe from belated detection and a visit of royal guards. This +accounted also, perhaps as much as the Count's jealousy, for his +inhospitality to strangers, and for the half-military character of his +household. + +Hugues uttered a bird-call, which had been one of his signals to +Mathilde in their meetings. We waited, looking up and wishing the night +were blacker. He repeated the cry. + +Something faintly whitish appeared in the dark slit which I had taken to +be the Countess's window. It was a face. + +"Mathilde," whispered Hugues to me. + +Keeping his gaze upon her, he held up the cross-bow for her notice; then +the bolt, to which we had attached the slender cord. Next, before +adjusting the bolt, he aimed the unbent bow at her window: this was to +indicate what he was about to do. Then he lowered the bow, and looked at +her without further motion, awaiting some sign of understanding from +her. She nodded her head emphatically, and drew it in. + +Hugues fitted the string and the bolt, raised the bow, and stood +motionless for I know not how many seconds; at last the string twanged; +the bolt sang through the air. It did not fall, nor strike stone, and +the cord remained suspended from above: the bolt had gone through the +window. + +"Good!" I whispered in elation; and truly Hugues deserved praise, for he +had had to allow both for the wind and for the cord fastened to the +bolt. + +The cord was soon pulled upward. Our end of it was tied to the rope +ladder, which Hugues unfolded as it continued to be drawn up by +Mathilde. At the junction of cord and ladder was fixed the paper with +instructions. Mathilde could not overlook this nor mistake its purpose. +When the ladder was nearly all in the air, its movement ceased. We knew +then that Mathilde had the other end of it. Presently the window became +faintly alight. + +"They have lighted a candle, to read the note," I whispered. + +Hugues kept a careful hold upon our end of the ladder, to which there +was fastened another cord, shorter and stronger than the first. My note +gave instructions to attach the ladder securely to a bed, or some other +suitable object, which, if movable, should then be placed close to the +window, but not so as to impede my entrance. It announced my intention +of visiting the Countess for a purpose of supreme importance to us both. +When the ladder was adjusted, a handkerchief should be waved up and down +in the window. + +"The Countess surely will not refuse to let me come and say what I have +to," I whispered, to reassure myself after we had waited some time. + +"Surely not, Monsieur. She does not know yet what it is," replied +Hugues. + +At that moment the handkerchief waved in the window. + +Hugues drew the ladder taut and braced himself. I grasped one of the +rounds, found a lower one with my foot, and began to mount. The ladder +formed, of course, an incline over the moat. When I had ascended some +way, Hugues, as we had agreed, allowed the ladder to swing gradually +across the moat and hang against the tower, he retaining hold of the +cord by which to draw the lower end back at the fit time. I now climbed +perpendicularly, close to the tower. It was a laborious business, +requiring great patience. Once I ran my eyes up along the tall tower and +saw the stars in the sky; once I looked down and saw them reflected in +the moat: but as these diversions made my task appear the longer, and +had a qualmish effect upon me, I thereafter studied only each immediate +round of the ladder as I came to it. As I got higher, I felt the wind +more; but it only refreshed me. Toward the end I had some misgiving lest +the ladder should lie too tight against the bottom of the window for me +to grasp the last rounds. But this fear proved groundless. Mathilde had +placed a pillow at the outer edge of the sill, for the ladder to run +over; and I had no sooner thrust my hand into the window than it was +caught in a firm grasp and guided to the proper round. Another step +brought my head above the sill: at the next, I had two arms inside the +long, shaft-like opening; my body followed, as Mathilde's receded. I +crawled through; lowered myself, hands and knees, to the couch beneath; +leaped to the floor, and kneeling before the Countess, kissed her hand. + +She was standing, and her dress was the same blue robe in which I had +seen her in the same room two nights before. The candle was on a small +table, which held also an illuminated book and an image of the Virgin, +and above which a crucifix hung against the wall. Besides the bed at the +window, there were another bed, a trunk, a chair, and a three-legged +stool. + +The Countess's face was all anxiety and question. + +"Thank God you are still safe!" said I. + +"And you!" she replied. "Brigitte told us you had escaped. I had prayed +your life might be saved. But now you put yourself in peril again. I had +hoped you were far away. Oh, Monsieur, what is it brings you back to +this house of danger?" + +"My going has surely made it a house of greater danger to you. It is a +marvel the Count has not already taken revenge upon you for my escape. I +thank God I am here while you still live." + +"My life is in God's hands. Was it to say this that you have risked +yours again, Monsieur? Oh, your coming here but adds to my sorrow." + +"Hear what sorrow you will cause, Madame, if you refuse to be saved +while there is yet time. I ask you to consider others. Below, waiting +for us, is Hugues, who has enabled me to come here to-night. You know +how that good brave fellow loves Mathilde. And you know that if you die, +Mathilde will share your fate, for the Count will wish to give his own +story of your death." + +"But Mathilde must not stay to share my fate. She must go away with you +now, while there is opportunity." + +"I will not stir from your side, Madame,--they will have to tear me away +when they come to kill you," said Mathilde, and then to me, "They have +not sent Madame any food to-day. I think the plan is to starve us." + +"Horrible!" I said. "That, no doubt, is because of my escape. But who +knows when the Count, in one of the rages caused by his fancies, may +turn to some method still more fearful. Madame, how can you endure this? +Why, it is to encourage his crime, when you might escape!" + +"Monsieur, you cannot tempt me with sophistries. What God permits--" + +"Has not God permitted me to come here, with the means of escape? Avail +yourself of them--see if God will not permit that." + +"We know that God permits sin, Monsieur, for his own good reasons. It is +for us to see that we are not they to whom it is permitted." + +"But can you think it a sin to save yourself?" + +"It is always a sin to break vows, Monsieur. And now--to go with you, of +all men--would be doubly a sin." She had lowered her voice, and she +lowered her eyes, too, and drew slightly back from me. + +"Then go with Hugues, Madame," said I, my own voice softened almost to a +whisper. "Only let me follow at a little distance to see that you are +safe. And when you are safe, finally and surely, I will go away, and we +shall be as strangers." + +Tears were in her eyes. But she answered: + +"No, Monsieur; I should still be a truant wife--still a breaker of vows +made to the Church and heaven." + +"Then you would rather die, and have poor Mathilde die after +you--Mathilde, who has no such scruples?" + +"Mathilde must go away with you to-night. I command her--she will not +disobey what may be the last orders I shall ever give her." + +"Madame, I have never disobeyed yet, but I will disobey this time. I +will not leave you." So said Mathilde, with quiet firmness. + +"Ah, Mathilde, it is unkind, unfair! You will save yourself for Hugues's +sake." + +"I will save myself when you save yourself, Madame; not before." + +The Countess sank upon the chair, and turning to the Virgin's image, +said despairingly: + +"Oh, Mother of heaven, save this child from her own fidelity!" + +"It is not Mathilde alone that you doom," I now said, thinking it time +to try my last means. "It is not only that you will darken the life of +poor Hugues. There is another who will not leave Lavardin if you will +not: one who will stay near, sharing your danger; and who, if you die, +will seek his own death in avenging you." + +"Oh, no, Monsieur!" she entreated. "I was so glad to learn you had +escaped. Do not rob me of that consolation. Do not stay at Lavardin. +Live!--live and be happy, for my sake. So brave--so tender--the world +needs you; and you must not die for me--I forbid you!" + +"You will find me as immovable as Mathilde," said I. + +She looked from one to the other of us, and put forth her hands +pleadingly; then broke down into weeping. + +"Oh, will you make my duty the harder?" she said. "God knows I would +gladly die to save you." + +"It is not dying that will save us. The only way is to save yourself." + +"Monsieur, you shall not drive me to sin by your temptations! Heaven +will save you both in spite of yourselves. That will be my reward for +putting this sin from me." + +"You persist in calling it a sin, Madame: very well. But is it not +selfish to go free from sin at the expense of others? If one can save +others by a sin of one's own, is it not nobler to take that sin upon +one's soul? Nay, is it not the greater sin to let others suffer, that +one's own hands may be clean?" + +"Oh, you tempt me with worldly reasoning, Monsieur. Kind mother of +Christ," she said, fixing her eyes upon the image of Mary, "what shall I +do? Be thou my guide--speak to my soul--tell me what to do!" + +After a moment, the Countess again turned to me, still perplexed, +agitated, unpersuaded. + +"Madame," said I, "when one considers how soon the Count de Lavardin +must surely suffer for crimes of which you know nothing, your death at +his hands seems the more grievous a fate. Do you know that he is a +traitor?--that his treason will soon be known to the King's ministers? +If his jealousy had only waited a short while, or if my discovery had +occurred a little earlier, his death would have spared you all this. But +now, if you are not starved or slain before he is arrested, he will +surely kill you when he finds himself about to be taken.--My God, I had +not thought of that when I resolved to go to Paris at once! Oh, Madame, +fly now while there is chance! I assure you that doom is hovering over +the Count's head; if you stay here, I cannot go to Paris; but Hugues +shall go with this paper in my stead." + +"What is the paper, Monsieur? What do you mean by this talk of the Count +and treason?" she asked in sheer wonder. + +"It is a proof of the Count's participation in the late conspiracy. I +found it in the room where I was imprisoned. And come what may, I will +see that it goes to Paris for the inspection of the Duke de Sully. And +then there will be a short shrift for the Count de Lavardin, I promise +you." + +"But in that case, it would be you that caused his death, Monsieur!" she +exclaimed. + +"The executioner would cause his death--and the law. I should be but the +humble instrument of heaven to bring it to pass." + +"But you would be the instrument of my husband's death, Monsieur! That +must not be. You, of all men! No, no. Why, it would be an eternal +barrier between us--in thought and kind feeling, I mean,--in the next +world too. Oh, no; you must not use that paper, nor cause it to be +used." + +"But, Madame, he is a traitor. What matters it whether I or another--it +is only justice--my duty to the King." + +"But you do not understand. I should not dare even pray for you! And I +must not let you denounce him--I must prevent your using that paper. I +am his wife, Monsieur,--I must prevent. Otherwise, I should be +consenting to my husband's death!" + +"He has no scruples about consenting to yours, Madame." + +"The sin is on his part, then, not on mine. Come, Monsieur, you must let +me destroy that paper." She advanced toward me. + +"No, Madame; not I. Nay, I will use force to keep it, if need be! It is +my one weapon, my one means of vengeance." I tore my wrist from her +hand, and put the paper back into my inner pocket. + +"Then, Monsieur, I have said my last to you. I must put you out of my +thoughts, out of my prayers even. And if I find means, I must warn my +husband." + +"Listen, Madame. There is one condition upon which I will destroy this +paper and keep silence." + +She uttered a joyful cry. I knew that what she thought of was not her +husband's fate, but the barrier she had mentioned. + +"It is that you will escape with me at once," I said. + +The joy passed out of her face; but she was silent. + +"Consider," I went on. "Not merely your own life, not merely mine, not +merely Mathilde's, and the happiness of Hugues: it is in your power to +save your husband's life also, and to save his soul from the crime of +your murder, if there be any degree between act and intent. Is it not a +sin and a folly to refuse? Think of the blood already shed by reason of +this matter. Why should there be more?" + +At last she wavered. I turned to Mathilde, to speak of the order in +which we should descend the ladder. + +At that instant I heard the key begin to grate in the lock. + +"Some one is coming in!" whispered the Countess in alarm. + +Instantly I pushed Mathilde upon the couch beneath the window, in a +sitting posture, so that her body would conceal the end of the rope +ladder. The next moment I had pulled the other bed a little way out from +the wall, and was crouching behind it. + +The door opened, and I heard the noise of men entering with heavy tread. +Then the door closed. There was a sound of swift movement, then a scream +from Mathilde and a terrified cry from the Countess, both voices being +suddenly silenced at their height. I raised my head, and saw two +powerful men in black masks, one of whom was grasping the Countess by +the throat with his left hand while, with his right assisted by his +teeth, he was endeavouring to pass a looped cord around her neck. The +other man had both hands about the neck of Mathilde, that he might +sufficiently overpower her to apply a similar cord. + +I leaped over the bed, and upon the man who was trying to strangle the +Countess. Mad to save and avenge her, I sank my dagger into the back of +his shoulder, and he fell without having seen who had attacked him. The +murderer who was struggling with Mathilde immediately turned from her +and drew sword to attack me, at the same time crying out, "Garoche, to +the rescue!" + +[Illustration: "I LEAPED OVER THE BED, AND UPON THE MAN WHO WAS TRYING +TO STRANGLE THE COUNTESS."] + +As I could not get the dagger out of the other man's shoulder joint in +time, I drew my sword, and parried my new antagonist's thrust. The door +now opened, and in came another man with drawn sword, not masked: he +was, I suppose, the man on guard on the landing. Seeing how matters +stood, he joined in the attack upon me. I backed into a corner, knocking +over the chair of the Countess, who had run to Mathilde. The two women +stood clasping each other, in terror. Suddenly my first assailant cried, +"I leave him to you for a moment, Garoche," and ran and transferred the +key from the outside to the inside of the door, which he then closed, so +as to lock us all in. This was doubtless to prevent the exit of the +Countess and Mathilde, the purpose being to keep the night's doings in +that room as secret as possible even from the rest of the household. +This man then pocketed the key, and, while Garoche continued to keep me +occupied in my corner, ran to a side of the cell and began working with +an iron wedge at a stone in the floor. He soon raised this, showing it +to be a thin slab, and left exposed a dark hole. He then turned to the +Countess, seized her around the waist, and tried to drag her toward the +opening. His instructions had been, no doubt, to slay the women without +bloodshed and drop the bodies through this secret aperture, but the +unexpected turn of affairs had made him decide to precipitate the end +and not strangle them first. Wild with horror at the prospect of their +meeting so hideous a death, I sprang into the air, and ran my sword +straight into the panting mouth of Garoche, so that the point came out +at the back of his neck. He dropped, and I disengaged my weapon barely +in time to check the onslaught of the other man, who, seeing Garoche's +fate, had left the Countess and come at me again. I was out of breath +after the violent thrusts I had made, and a mist now clouded my eyes. I +know not how this last contest would have gone, had not Mathilde, +recovering her self-command, drawn the sword of the man who had fallen +first, and, holding it with both hands, pushed it with all her strength +into my adversary's back. + +I wiped my weapons on the clothes of the slain murderers. The Countess +fell on her knees and thanked heaven for our preservation. I then went +to the opening made by the removal of the stone slab: peering down, I +could see nothing. I took the key of the door from the pocket of its +last holder, and dropped it through the hole, while the Countess and +Mathilde leaned over me, listening. Some moments passed before we heard +anything; then there came the sound of the key striking mud in the black +depths far below. The secret shaft, then, led to the bottom of the +tower. + +The Countess shuddered, and whispered: "Come, let us not lose a moment." + +I first lifted the masks, and recognized the murderers as fellows I had +seen lounging in the court-yard. Then I gave directions for descending +the ladder. I should have preferred being the last to leave the room but +that I thought it necessary to support the Countess in her descent and +Mathilde firmly refused to precede us. As the ladder might not hold the +weight of three, Mathilde would see us to the ground, and then follow. + +Two could not go out of the window at once, so I backed through first, +and waited when my feet were planted on the ladder, my breast being then +against the edge of the window sill. Madame followed me. I guided her +feet with one hand, and placed them on the ladder, having descended just +sufficiently to make room for her. I then lowered myself another round, +and she, holding on to a round in the window shaft with one hand, +grasped the first round outside with the other, emerged entirely from +the opening, and let me guide her foot a step lower. We then proceeded +downward in this manner, I holding my head and body well back from the +ladder so that her feet were usually on a level with my breast: thus if +she showed any sign of weakness, I could throw an arm around her. I had +first thought of having her clasp me around the neck, and so descending +with her, but once upon the ladder, I saw no safe way for her to get +behind me, or indeed to turn from facing the ladder. So we came down as +I say, while I kept as well as I could between her and the possibility +of falling. Frequently I asked in a whisper if all was well with her, +and she answered yes. + +When we were near the moat, I felt the ladder move from the wall and +knew that Hugues was drawing it toward him. I warned the Countess of our +change from a vertical to an inclined position, and so we were swung +across, and found ourselves above solid earth, on which we presently set +foot. + +"Best take Madame the Countess to the horses while I wait for Mathilde," +whispered Hugues to me, letting the ladder swing back; but Madame would +not go till the maid was safe beside us. Mathilde, who had watched our +descent, now drew her head in, and speedily we saw her feet emerge in +its stead. She came down the ladder with ease and rapidity, such were +her strength and self-possession. As soon as she touched the ground, +Hugues swung back the ladder to stay, and took up his cross-bow. + +"Come," I whispered, and we turned our backs to that grim tower and +hastened along the moat to the forest, passing on the way the high gable +window of what had been my prison, the postern which I had such good +reason to remember, and the oak from which I had seen Hugues display the +handkerchief. Scarce a word was spoken till we came to the horses. I +assisted the Countess to mount one of Hugues's two, she making no +difficulty about accommodating herself to a man's saddle. By that time +Hugues and Mathilde were on his second horse. I got upon my own, and we +started. Our immediate purpose was to go to Hugues's house by the woods +and lanes, fording the river below Montoire. + +As we came out of the forest, beyond St. Outrille, the moon rose, and +against the luminous Eastern sky we could see the dark tower we had left +behind,--tower of blood and death, on which I hoped never to set eyes +again. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +THE PARTING + + +We hoped to be at Hugues's house before the Countess's flight should be +discovered. Hugues and I discussed the chances as we rode. The Count +would probably give his murderous agents ample time before going to see +why they did not come to report the deed accomplished. He would then +lose many minutes in breaking into the cell, and again in questioning +the watchman on the tower--who could not have seen us in the woods and +distant lanes--and considering what to do. The bloodhounds would +doubtless be put upon the Countess's scent, but they would lose it at +the place where we had taken horse. And then, Hugues thought, having +tracked us into the forest, the Count would assume that we had continued +our flight through it without change of direction, and he would push on +to St. Arnoult, and along the road to Chateaurenault and Tours. This +was, indeed, the most likely supposition. The Count would scarce expect +to find us harboured in any house in the neighbourhood, and he knew +nothing of Hugues's attachment to Mathilde. Still I thought it well that +the Countess should travel on as far as possible that night, and I asked +her if she felt able to do so after stopping at Hugues's house for some +food. + +"Oh, yes," she answered compliantly. + +I then broke to her that Hugues's and I had provided a suit of boy's +clothes which she might substitute for her present attire at his house, +and so travel with less likelihood of attracting notice. To this she +made no objection. She seemed, on leaving the chateau, to have resigned +herself, almost languidly, to guidance. A kind of listlessness had come +over her, which I attributed to exhaustion of spirit after all she had +experienced. + +I then told her that Hugues and I had decided it best that Mathilde +should stay at his house for the present, keeping very close and having +the hiding-place accessible, while I went on with the Countess. Hugues +himself, who could entirely trust his old woman-servant and his boy, +would see us as far as to our first resting-place. + +To these proposals also she said "Very well," in a tone of +half-indifference, but she cast a long, sad look at Mathilde, at mention +of leaving her. + +"And then, Madame," I went on, "as to our journey after we leave +Hugues's house. You have said you are without relations or fortune." + +"Alas, yes. A provision for life-maintenance at the convent was all the +fortune left me." + +"In that case, I ask you, in the name of my father and mother, to honour +them as their guest at La Tournoire. I can promise you a safe and +private refuge there: I can promise you the friendship of my mother, the +protection of my father, and his good offices with the King, if need be, +to secure your rightful claims when the Count de Lavardin dies, as he +must before many years." + +"No, no, Monsieur, I shall have no claims. The Count married me without +dowry, and if there be any other claims I surrender them. As for your +generous offer, I cannot think of accepting it. You and I are soon to +separate, and must not see each other again." + +"But, Madame, I need not be at La Tournoire while you are there. I shall +be out in the world, seeking honour and fortune." + +"No, Monsieur, it is not to be thought of. My only refuge is the convent +from which the Count took me." + +"But is it safe to go there? Have you not said yourself that the Count +would take measures to intercept you on the way?" + +"But you and Hugues just now agreed that the Count would probably seek +me on the road to Chateaurenault. That is in the opposite direction to +the convent, which is beyond Chateaudun." + +"But the Count may seek toward the convent when he fails to find you in +the other direction. Or he may take the precaution to send a party that +way at once." + +"We shall be there before he or his emissaries can, shall we not? Once +in the convent, I shall be safe.--And besides, Monsieur,"--her voice +took on a faint touch of mock-laughing bitterness--"he will think I have +run away with you for love, and for a different life than that of a +convent. No; as matters are, it is scarce likely he will seek me in the +neighbourhood of the convent." + +It was then determined that we should make for the convent, which, +curiously, as it was beyond Chateaudun, happened to be upon my road to +Paris. We now arrived at Hugues's gate. + +I dismounted only to help the Countess, and stayed in the road with the +horses, while Hugues led Madame and Mathilde into the cottage. He took +them thence into the mill, that they might eat, and the Countess change +her dress, at the very entrance to the hiding-place. He then returned to +me, the plan being that if we heard pursuit he and I were to mount and +ride on, thus leading our enemies away from the Countess, who with +Mathilde should betake herself to the hiding-place till danger was past. +With Hugues's knowledge of the byways and forest paths, we might be able +to elude the hunt. During this wait we refreshed ourselves with wine and +bread, which the old woman brought, and the boy fed the horses. In a +short time the Countess reappeared, a graceful, slender youth in +doublet, breeches, riding-boots of thin leather, cap, and gloves. Her +undulating hair had been reduced by Mathilde, with a pair of shears, to +a suitable shortness. Mathilde followed her, loth to part. We allowed +little time for leave-taking with the poor girl, and were soon mounted +and away, Hugues leading. + +"I suggest, Madame," said I, as we proceeded along the road, which was +soon shadowed from the moonlight by a narrow wood at our right, "that on +this journey you pass as my young brother, going with me to Paris to the +University. I will say that we have ridden ahead of our baggage and +attendants,--which is literally true, for my baggage remains at Hugues's +house and you have left Mathilde there." + +"Very well, Monsieur," she replied. + +"I should have some name to call you by upon occasion," said I. "I will +travel as Henri de Varion, for De Varion was my mother's name, and if +you are willing to use it--" + +"Certainly, Monsieur. As for a name to call me by upon occasion, there +will be least falsehood in calling me Louis; for my real name is +Louise." + +"Thank you, Madame; and if you have to address me before people, do not +forget to call me Henri." + +"I shall not forget." + +Her manner in this acquiescence was that of one who follows blindly +where a trusted guide directs, but who takes little interest in the +course or the outcome. A kind of forlorn indifference seemed to have +stolen over her. But she listened to the particulars of residence and +history with which I thought it wise to provide ourselves, and briefly +assented to all. She then lapsed into silence, from which I could not +draw her beyond the fewest words that would serve in politeness to +answer my own speeches. + +Meanwhile Hugues led us from the road and across the narrow wood, thence +by a lane and a pasture field to the highway for Vendome and Paris. We +pushed on steadily, passed through Les Roches, which was sound asleep, +and, stopping only now and then to let our horses drink at some stream, +at which times we listened and heard no sound upon the road, we entered +Vendome soon after daylight. + +"Had we better stop here for a few hours?" said I, watching the Countess +and perceiving with sorrow how tired and weak she looked. + +"I think it well, Monsieur," replied Hugues, his eyes dwelling where +mine did. + +"And yet," I said, with a thought of the horror of her being taken, "it +is so few leagues from Lavardin. In such a town, too, the Count's men +would visit all the inns. If we might go on to some village--some +obscure inn. Could you keep up till then, Madame, do you think?" + +"Oh, yes,--I think so." But her pallor of face, her weakness of voice, +belied her words. + +"We should be more closely observed at some smaller place than here," +said Hugues. "Besides, we need not go to an inn here. There is a decent, +close-mouthed woman I know, a butcher's widow, who will lodge you if her +rooms are not taken. It would be best to avoid the inns and go to her +house at once. As like as not, if the Count did hunt this road, he would +pass through the town without guessing you were at private lodgings." + +"It is the best thing we can do," said I, with a blessing upon all +widows of butchers. Hugues guided us to a little street behind the +church of the Trinity, and soon brought the widow's servant, and then +the widow herself, to the door. Her rooms were vacant, and we took two +of them, in the top story, one overlooking the street, the other a +backyard wherein she agreed to let our horses stand. She promised +moreover to say nothing of our presence there, and so, while Hugues led +the horses through the narrow stone-paved passage, the widow showed us +to our rooms. The front one being the larger and better, I left the +Countess in possession of it as soon as we were alone, that she might +rest until the woman brought the food I had ordered. + +When breakfast was set out in the back room, and the Countess opened her +door in answer to my knock, she looked so worn out and ill that I was +alarmed. She had fallen asleep, she said, and my knock had wakened her. +She ate little, and I could see that she was glad to go back and lie +down again. + +I had thought to resume our journey in the evening, and perhaps reach +Chateaudun by a night's riding. But at evening the Countess seemed no +more fit to travel than before. So I decided to stay at the widow's till +Madame was fully recovered. Hugues would have remained with us another +day, but I sent him back to his mill and Mathilde. + +On the morrow the Countess was no better. I took the risk of going out, +obtaining medicine at the apothecary's, and purchasing other necessary +things for both of us which we had not been able to provide before our +flight. I was in dread lest we might have to resort to a physician and +so make discovery that my young brother was a woman. Madame declared her +illness was but exhaustion, and that she would soon be able to go on. +But it was some days before I thought her strong enough to do so. + +We had come into Vendome on a Wednesday: we left it on the following +Monday morning. We encountered nothing troublesome on the road, and +arrived at Chateaudun that Monday night. The Countess endured the +journey fairly well; but her strange, dreamy listlessness had not left +her. + +At Chateaudun as at Vendome, we sought out lodgings in a by-street, and +therein passed the night. We were now but a few hours' ride from the +convent, by Madame's account of its location. Soon I should have to part +from her, with the intention on her side not to see me again, and the +promise on mine to respect that intention. To postpone this moment as +long as possible, I found pretexts for delaying our departure in the +morning; but as afternoon came on she insisted upon our setting out. I +did so with a sorrowful heart, knowing it meant I must take my last +leave of her that evening. + +From our having passed nearly a week without any sign of pursuit, a +feeling of security had arisen in us. If the Count or his men had sought +in this direction, passing through Vendome while we lay quiet in our +back street, that search would probably be over by this time. But even +if chase had not been made simultaneously by various parties on various +roads, there had been time now for search in different directions one +after another. Yet spies might remain posted at places along the roads +for an indefinite period, especially near the convent. But as long as +the risk was only that of encountering a man or two at once, I had +confidence enough. In Vendome I had bought the Countess a light rapier +to wear for the sake of appearance, of course not expecting her to use +it. But though in case of attack I should have to fight alone, I felt +that her presence would make me a match for two at least. + +I tried to avoid falling in with people on the road, but a little way +out from Chateaudun we came upon a country gentleman, of a well-fed and +amiable sort, whose desire for companionship would let us neither pass +ahead nor drop behind. He was followed by three stout servants, and +expressed some concern at seeing two young gentlemen like us going that +road without attendants. + +"Though to be sure," he added, "there seems to be less danger now; but +you must have heard of the band of robbers that haunt the forests about +Bonneval and further on. There has been little news of their doings +lately, and some people think they may have gone to other parts. But who +knows when they will suddenly make themselves heard of again, when least +expected?--'tis always the way." + +He soon made us forget about dangers of the road, however, by his hearty +talk; though, indeed, for all his good-fellowship I would rather have +been alone with Madame in these last moments. About a league from +Chateaudun, he arrived at his own small estate, rich in wines and +orchards; he regretted that we would not stop, and recommended inns for +us at Bonneval and the towns beyond. + +We rode on, the Countess and I, in silence, my own heart too disturbed +for speech, and she in that same dispirited state which had been hers +from the beginning of our flight. Indeed now, when I was so soon to bid +her farewell, she seemed more tired and melancholy, pale and drooping, +than I had yet seen her. As I was sadly noticing this, we came to a +place where a lesser road ran from the highway toward a long stretch of +woods at the right. The Countess drew in her horse, and said, indicating +the branch road: + +"That is my way, Monsieur. I will say adieu here; but I will not even +try to thank you. You have risked your life for me many times over. I +will pray for you--with my last breath." + +"But, Madame," I exclaimed in astonishment, "we are not to say adieu +here. I must see you to the convent." + +"The convent is not so far now. I know the way; and I wish to go there +alone. You will respect my wish, I know: have you not had your way +entirely so far on our journey? You cannot justly refuse me my will +now." She gave a wan little smile as if she knew the argument was not a +fair one. + +"But, Madame,--what can be your reason?--It is not safe. Surely you will +not deny me the happiness of seeing my service fully accomplished,--of +knowing that you are safe at the convent?" + +"I am nearly there. I know the road,--it is a shorter way than the high +roads, but little used. I shall meet no travellers. I fear no danger." + +"But consider, Madame. The danger may be at the very end of your +journey. The Count may have spies within sight of the convent. You may +fall into a trap at the last moment." + +"I can go first to the house of a woodman in the forest, whose wife was +a servant of my mother's. They are good, trustworthy people, and can see +if all is safe before I approach the convent. If there is danger, I can +send word by them to the Mother Superior, who can find means to get me +in secretly at night. You may deem your service accomplished, Monsieur. +I must take my leave now." + +"But it is so strange! What can be your reason?--what can be your +objection to my going with you?" + +"Ah, Monsieur, it may be unfair, but a woman is exempt from having to +give reasons. It is my wish,--is not that enough? I am so deeply your +debtor already,--let me be your debtor in this one thing more.--You have +spent money for me: I have no means of repaying--nay, I will not mention +it,--you have given me so much that is above all price,--your courage +and skill. But enough of this--to speak of such things in my poor way is +to cheapen them. Adieu, Monsieur!--adieu, Henri!" + +She held out her hand, to which I lowered my lips without a word, for I +could not speak. + +"You will go your way when I go mine," she said with tenderness. "To +Paris, perhaps?" + +"To Paris--I suppose so," I said vaguely. + +"This horse belongs to Hugues," she said, stroking the animal's neck. "I +may find means to send it back to him.--Well, adieu! God be with you on +your journey, Monsieur,--and through your life." + +"Oh, Madame!--adieu, if you will have it so! adieu!--adieu, Louis!" + +She smiled acquiescently at my use of the name by which I had had +occasion to call her a few times at our lodging-places. Then, saying +once more, "Adieu, Henri!" she turned her horse's head and started down +the by-road. With a heavy heart, I waited till she had disappeared in +the woods. I had hoped she might look back, but she had not done so. + +A movement of my rein, which I made without intention, was taken by my +horse as a signal to go on, and the creature, resuming its original +direction, kept to the highway and plodded along toward Bonneval and +Paris. + +Never in all my life, before or since, have I felt so alone. What was +there for me to do now? All my care, all my heart, was with the solitary +figure on horseback somewhere yonder in the forest. Had life any object +for me elsewhere? + +Yes, faith!--and I laughed ironically as it came back to my thoughts--I +might now go on to Paris and cut off the moustaches of Brignan de +Brignan! + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +IN THE FOREST + + +But I had not yet come in sight of Bonneval, when fearful misgivings +began to assail me as to what might befall the Countess. I awoke to a +full sense of my folly in yielding to her wish. Her own apparent +confidence of safety had made me, for a time, feel there must be indeed +small danger. I had too weakly given way to her right of command in the +case. I had been too easily checked by respect for what private reason +she might have for wishing to go on without company. I had played the +boy and the fool, and if ever there had been a time when I ought to have +used a man's authority, laughing down her protests, it had been when she +rode away alone toward the forest. + +I turned my horse about, resolved to undo my error as far as I +might,--to go back and take the road she had taken, and not rest till I +knew she was safe in the convent. + +My fears increased as I went. What the country gentleman had said about +robbers came back to my mind. I arrived at the junction of the roads, +and galloped to the woods. Once among the trees, I had to proceed +slowly, for the road dwindled to a mere path, so grown with grass as to +show how little it was ordinarily resorted to. But there were horseshoe +prints which, though at first I took them to be only those of the +Countess's horse, soon appeared so numerously together that I saw there +must have been other travellers there recently. I perceived, too, that +the wood was of great depth and extent, and not the narrow strip I had +supposed. It was, in fact, part of a large forest. I became the more +disquieted, till at last, as the light of day began to die out of the +woods, I was oppressed with a belief as strong as certainty, that some +great peril had already fallen upon her I loved. + +I came into a little green glade, around which I glanced. My heart +seemed to faint within me, for there, by a small stream that trickled +through the glade, was a horse grazing,--a horse with bridle and saddle +but no rider. The rein hung upon the grass, the saddle was pulled awry, +and the horse was that of the Countess. + +I looked wildly in every direction, but she was nowhere to be seen. The +horse raised his head, and whinnied in recognition of me and my animal, +then went on cropping the grass. I rode over to him, as if by +questioning the dumb beast I might learn where his mistress was. There +was no sign of any sort by which I might be guided in seeking her. + +I called aloud, "Madame! madame!" But there was only the faint breeze of +evening among the treetops for answer. + +But the horse could not have wandered far. Whatever had occurred, there +must be traces near. My best course was to search the forest close at +hand: any one of those darkening aisles stretching on every side, like +corridors leading to caves of gloom, might contain the secret: each +dusky avenue, its ground hidden by tangled forest growth, seemed to bid +me come and discover. I dismounted, knowing I could trust my horse to +stay in the glade, and, crossing the stream, explored the further +portion of the path. + +I came to a place where the underbrush at the side of the path was +somewhat beaten aside. I thought I could distinguish where some person +or animal had gone from this place, tramping a sort of barely traceable +furrow through the tangle. I followed this course: it led me back to the +glade. Doubtless the horse had made it. + +I was about to go back along the path, when I noticed a similar +trodden-down appearance along one side of the stream where it left the +glade. Hoping little, I examined this. It brought me, after a few yards, +to a clear piece of turf swelling up around the roots of an oak. And +lying there, on the grassy incline, with her head at the foot of the +oak, was the Countess, as silent and motionless as death, with blood +upon her forehead. + +My own heart leaping, I knelt to discover if hers still moved. Her body +stirred at my touch. I dipped my handkerchief in the stream, and gently +washed away the blood, but revealed no cut until I examined beneath the +hair, when I found a long shallow gash. I hastily cleansed her hair of +the blood as well as I could, with such care as not to cause the wound +to flow anew. All the time I was doing this, my joy at finding her alive +and free was such that I could have sobbed aloud. + +She awoke and recognized me, first smiling faintly, but in a moment +parting her lips in sorrowful surprise, and then, after glancing round, +giving a sigh of profound weariness. + +"Am I then still alive?" she murmured. + +"Yes, Madame;--I thank God from my heart." + +"It is His will," she said. "I had hoped--I had thought my life in this +world was ended." + +"Oh, do not say that. What can you mean?" + +"When they surrounded me--the men who sprang up at the sides of the +path--I thought, 'Yes, these are the robbers the gentleman spoke +of,--God has been kind and has sent them to waylay me: if I resist, I +may be killed, and surely I have a right to resist.' So I drew my sword, +and made a thrust at the nearest. He struck me with some weapon--I did +not even notice what it was, I was so glad when it came swiftly--when I +felt I could not save myself. The blow was like a kiss--the kiss of +death, welcoming me out of this life of sad and bitter prospects." + +"Oh, Madame, how can you talk in this way, when you are still young and +beautiful, and there are those who love you?" + +"You do not know all, Henri. What is there for me in life? I am weak to +complain--weak to long for death--sinful, perhaps, to put myself in its +way, but surely Heaven will pardon that sin,--weak, yes; but, alas, I +cannot help it,--women are weak, are they not? What is before me, then? +I am one without a place in the world--without relations, without +fortune. If I were a man, I might seek my fortune--there are the wars, +there are many kinds of honourable service. But what is there for a +woman, a wife who has run away from her husband?" + +"But Madame, the convent,--you have a right to be maintained there. You +can at least live there, till time annuls the Count's claims upon you. +And then who knows what the future may bring?" + +"The convent--I have told you I should be safe there, and so no doubt I +should if I took the veil--" + +"Nay, Madame, not that, save as a last resort!" + +"Alas, I may not though I would. Do you think I should hesitate if I +were free? How gladly I would bury myself from this world, give myself +at once to Heaven! But that resource--that happiness--is forbidden me. +My mother, as she neared death, saw no security for me but as a +life-guest at a convent. Our small fortune barely sufficed to make the +provision. But she did not wish me to become a nun, and as she feared +the influence of the convent might lead that way, she put me under a +promise never to take the veil. So I am without the one natural resource +of a woman in my position." + +"But do you mean that you will not be safe at the convent merely as a +guest?" + +"The Count may claim the fulfilment of his rights as a husband. He may +use force to take me away. The Mother Superior cannot withhold me from +him; and indeed I fear she would be little inclined to if she could, +unless I consented to take the veil. Before the possibility of my +marriage came up, she was always urging me to apply for a remission of +the vow to my mother, so that I might become a nun. But that I would +never do." + +"But, Madame, knowing all this, how could you select the convent as your +refuge, and let me bring you so far toward it?" + +"Ah, Monsieur, what place in the world was there for me? And yet I had +to go somewhere, that your life might be saved, and Mathilde's, and the +happiness of poor Hugues. There was no other way to draw you far from +that chateau of murder, no other way to detach Mathilde from one who +could bring her nothing but calamity. And to-day, when I left you, I +thought all this was accomplished, and I was free to go my way in search +of death." + +"Oh, Madame, if I had known what was in your mind! Then you did not mean +to go to the convent?" + +"I meant to go toward the convent. It is further away than I allowed you +to suppose. I felt--I know not why--that death would meet me on the way. +I felt in my heart a promise that God would do me that kindness. At +first I had no idea of what form my deliverer would take. Perhaps, I +thought, I might be permitted to lose my way in the forest and die of +hunger, or perhaps I might encounter some wild beast, or a storm might +arise and cause me to be struck by lightning or a falling bough, or I +might be so chilled and weakened by rain that I must needs lie down and +die. I knew not what shape,--all I felt was, that it waited for me in +the forest. And when the gentleman spoke of robbers, I rejoiced, for it +seemed to confirm my belief." + +"And that is why you would not let me come with you?" + +"Yes, certainly; that you might not be present to drive death away from +me, or meet it with me. I hoped you would go on to Paris, thinking me +safe, and that you would soon forget me. You see how I desire you to +live, and how you can please me only by doing so." + +"And so, when you were at last in the forest--?" + +"At last in the forest, yes--I knew not how long I should have to ride, +but I made no haste,--sooner or later it would come, I thought. The +birds hopping about on the branches seemed to be saying to one another, +'See this lady who has come to meet death.' I crossed a glade, and +something seemed to whisper to my heart, 'Yonder it lies waiting, yonder +in the shades beyond that little stream.' So I went on, and true enough, +before I had gone far, five or six rough men sprang out from the bushes. +Two caught my reins, and one raised a weapon of some kind and bade me +deliver up my purse. I had no purse to deliver, and I feared they might +let me go as not worth their trouble. Then I thought they might hold me +for ransom, or rob me of my clothes, and discover I was a woman. Surely +I was justified in resisting such a fate; so I drew the sword you gave +me, and made a pass at the man with the weapon. He struck instantly, +before I could turn my head aside, and I had time only for a flash of +joy that God had indeed granted me deliverance. I scarce felt the blow, +and then all went out in darkness. I knew nothing after. How did I come +here? This is not the place where I met the robbers." + +"It is very strange," said I. "This is where I found you, only a little +while before you came to life. I had searched the path, but I saw no +robbers. They did not take your horse,--I found it in the glade yonder, +where I have left mine with it. That must be the glade you crossed +before they appeared." + +"But how came you to be here? Ah, did you disregard my wish and follow +me?" + +"Not at first. No; I went on toward Paris as you bade me. But after +awhile I too had a feeling of danger befalling you in this forest. It +was so strong that I could not force myself to go on. So I rode back, +hoping to come in sight of you and follow at a distance. I could not do +otherwise." + +"Ah, Henri, perhaps it is to you I owe the ill service of bringing me +back to life. Who knows?--I might have passed quietly away to death here +had you not come and revived the feeble spark left in me. I must have +been unconscious a long time." + +"Yes; thank God I arrived no later than I did. But why should the +robbers have brought you here? They have not even taken any of your +clothes. See, here is your sword, replaced in its scabbard; even your +cap is here, beside your head--look where the villain's weapon cut +through,--it must have been a sort of halberd. Why should they have +brought you here? Do they mean to return, I wonder?" + +I rose and looked around, peering through the dusky spaces between the +trunks of the trees, and straining my ears. Suddenly, amidst the chatter +of the birds returning to their places for the night, I made out a sound +of distant hoof-beats. + +"Horsemen!" I said. "But these robbers were on foot, were they not?" + +"Yes; I did not see any horses about." + +"Who can these be? There must be several!" + +They were apparently coming from that part of the forest toward which +the Countess had been riding. On account of the brushwood I could not +see them yet. + +"Well," said I, "we had best keep as quiet as possible till they pass. +But they will see our horses in crossing the glade. No, that must not +be. Wait." + +I ran back to the glade, and finding the horses close together, caught +them both, led them down the bed of the stream to where the Countess +was, and made them lie among the underwood, trusting to good fortune +that they would be quiet while the others were passing. + +Soon I could see, above the underbrush that extended to the path beyond +the brook, a procession of steel head-pieces, bearded faces, +breastplates over leather jerkins, and horses' heads. There were six or +seven men in all, one after another. I lay close to the earth and heard +them cross the stream. And then, to my astonishment, they came directly +along the stream by the way I had first come; I rose to my feet just in +time to face the leader as he stopped his horse within a yard of me. + +He gazed over the neck of his steed at me, and the Countess, and our two +animals. He was a tall, well-made, handsome man, seasoned but still +young, with a bronzed, fearless face. + +"Good evening," said he, in a rich, manly voice. "So the youngster has +come to his senses,--and found a friend, it appears." + +"I don't exactly understand you, Monsieur," said I. + +"You are not to blame for that," he replied good-humouredly. "It is true +I met your young friend awhile ago, but as he was more dead than alive +at that time, he couldn't have told you much. How is it with him now?" + +"I am not much hurt, Monsieur," replied the Countess for herself. + +"I scarce knew how I should find you when I returned," said the +newcomer. + +"Then you saw him here before, Monsieur?" said I. + +"Yes; it was I who brought him here,--but, faith! he was in no condition +to see what was going on. We were searching this forest on the King's +business, when I heard something a little ahead, which made me gallop +forward, and there I saw half-a-dozen ruffians around a horse, and one +of them dragging this youth from the saddle. I shouted to my comrades +and charged at the robbers. They dropped the lad, and made off along the +path. I stopped to see to the young gentleman, and ordered my companions +to pursue the rascals. The youngster, let me tell you, seemed quite done +for. He had been struck, as you see, evidently just before he was pulled +from the horse." + +"Yes, Monsieur," said the Countess; "and I knew nothing after the blow." + +"So it appeared," replied the horseman. "I saw that water was needed, +and remembering this stream we had crossed, I carried you to this place +and did what I could for you. But I had to go and recall my men,--I +feared they might be led too far, or separated by the robbers running in +different directions. That explains my leaving you alone. We have a +piece of work in hand, of some importance, and dare not risk anything +for the sake of catching those knaves." + +"I suppose they are part of the band that haunts this forest," said I. + +"No doubt. But this forest is at present the haunt of larger game. Those +scoundrels escaped us this time--they were favoured by the dusk and the +undergrowth. I was longer in catching up with my comrades than I had +thought. But I see all has gone well with that young gentleman in the +meantime." + +"Yes, Monsieur. I, his brother, ought never to have allowed him to go on +alone. But I was riding after, expecting to overtake him, when I came +upon his horse; I supposed he must be near, and I was fortunate enough +to seek in the right place. He shall not leave me again; and for us both +I thank you more than my tongue can ever express." + +"Pouf!--I did nothing. The question is, what now? My comrades and I have +affairs to look after in the forest. We shall continue on the path where +your brother met his accident, till we come to a certain forester's +house where we may pass the night. Your direction appears to be the +same, and you will be safe with us." + +"Again I thank you, Monsieur," I said, "but we shall give up our journey +through the forest. As soon as my brother feels able to ride, we shall +go back to the highway and pass the night at some inn. I think we shall +be safe enough now that you have frightened the robbers from this part +of the forest." + +The horseman eyed me shrewdly, and glanced at the Countess. It occurred +to me then that he had known her sex from the first, and that he now +trusted me with wisdom enough to judge best what I ought to do. So he +delicately refrained from pressing us, as he had all along from trying +to learn our secret. For a moment he silently twirled his moustaches; +then he said: + +"In that case, I have but to wish you good-night, and good fortune. +I think you will be safe enough between here and the highway. +Please do not mention that you have seen any of the King's guard +hereabouts,--though I fear that news is already on the wing." + +"What, Monsieur?--are you, then, of the King's guard?" + +"We have the honour to be so." + +"But I thought their uniform--" + +"Faith, we are in our working clothes," said he, with a laugh. The next +moment he waved us adieu, turned his horse about, and, his companions +also turning at his order, followed them out of our sight. + +"A very charming gentleman," said I, as the sound of their horses +diminished in our ears. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +THE TOWER OF MORLON + + +The Countess still lay on the grassy couch beneath the oak. She seemed +to have lost all will as to her course of action. + +"I think best not to go with those guards," I explained after a moment. +"For why should we travel their way without any destination? There is +nothing for us now in that direction. After what you have told me, I +dare not let you go to the convent." + +"There is no place for me," she said listlessly. "Death has disappointed +me, and left me in the lurch. I think this place is as good as another." + +She closed her eyes for some moments, as if she would lie there till +death came, after all. + +"No," said I; "you must not stay here. Night is coming on: the chill and +the dews will be harmful to you. Besides, there are clouds already +blotting out some of the stars, and the wind is rising and may bring +more. If there is rain, it may be heavy, after so many days of fine +weather. It will soon be too dark to follow the path. We must be getting +on." + +"I am weak from this blow," she said,--rather as if for a pretext +against moving, I thought. "I am not sure I could keep my saddle." + +"I can carry you as I ride, if need be, and let your horse follow. Come, +Madame, let us see if you can rise. If not, I will take you in my arms +to the glade, where it will be easier to mount." + +I stooped to support her, but she did not stir. + +"But where am I to go?" she said. "Of what use to travel aimlessly from +place to place? As you say, why should we ride on toward the convent +without a destination? But where else have I a destination?" + +"Listen, Madame. Is it not probable that after some weeks, or months, +the Count, still disappointed of your taking refuge at the convent, will +give up hope or expectation of finding you there? Will he not then +withdraw his attention from the convent?" + +"I suppose so." + +"And can we not, if we take time, find means to learn when that becomes +the case? Can we not, by careful investigation, make sure whether he is +still watching the convent or whether he has an informant there? Can we +not enter into communication with the Mother Superior, and find out what +her attitude is toward you,--whether, if you returned, your residence +there would be safe and kept secret? Surely she would not betray you." + +"Oh, no; whatever attitude she took, she would tell me the truth." + +"Then it is only necessary to wait a few months and take those measures, +without letting your own whereabouts be known even to the Mother +Superior." + +"But meanwhile would you have me continue doing as I have done since my +flight,--passing as something I am not, receiving the protection--living +on the very bounty--of the one person in all the world from whom I +should accept nothing? Why, Monsieur, if it were known--if no more than +the mere truth were told--would it not seem to justify the Count de +Lavardin?" + +"I do not ask you to do as you have done. For only two or three days you +need pass as a boy. You may then not only resume the habit of a woman, +but enjoy the company and friendship of a woman as saintly as yourself. +Your presence in her house must be a secret till affairs mend, but you +may be sure that if her friendship for you were known, it would be a +sufficient answer to anything your husband or the world might say +against you." + +"It is of your mother that you speak. But I told you before, it is not +from you that I dare accept so much." + +"It will be from my mother, who will believe me when I tell her the +truth, and who will take you as her guest and friend for your own sake. +As for me, my affairs in Paris will keep me from La Tournoire while you +are there:--for consider, what I propose now is not what you refused +that night we fled from Lavardin. I spoke then of your making La +Tournoire your refuge for an indefinite time,--the rest of your life, if +need be:--I speak now of your staying there only till your safe +residence at the convent can be assured,--only a few months, or weeks." + +Though I had begun and ended by speaking of the convent, I did so merely +with the object of inducing her to go to La Tournoire. Once there, she +would be under the guidance and persuasion of my mother, who could +influence her to remain till the Count's death removed all danger. + +"You must not refuse, Madame," I went on. "God has shown that He does +not desire your death, and it must be His will that you should accept +this plan, so clear and simple. Speak, Madame!" + +"I know not.--I have no strength, no will, to oppose further. Let it be +as you think best." The last vestige of her power of objection, of +resolving or thinking for herself, seemed to pass out in a tired sigh. + +"Good!" I cried. "Then we have but to regain the road and find some inn +for the night. To-morrow we shall ride back to Chateaudun, or perhaps on +to Bonneval, and then make for La Tournoire by Le Mans and Sablé, which +is to give a wide berth to Montoire and the road we have come by. Do you +think you can rise, Madame?--Nay, wait till I lead the horses out." + +I took the horses to the glade, then returned and found the Countess +already on her feet, though with her hand against the tree, as she was +somewhat dizzy. She walked with my assistance, and I helped her to her +saddle,--she now thought herself able to ride without support. I mounted +my own horse, grasped the halter of the other, and took the path for the +highway. + +"We are none too soon," said I, as we left the glade. "How dark the path +is even now: I hope we shall be able to keep it." + +Darkness came on more quickly than usual, because of the swift +overclouding of the sky. Very soon I could not see two paces before me. +Then blackness settled down upon us. My horse still went on, but slowly +and uncertainly, with many a halt to make sure of footing and a free +way. When I glanced back, I could not see the Countess, but I held the +tighter to the halter of her horse and frequently asked if all was well. +Her reply was, "Yes, Monsieur," in a faint, tired voice. I felt about +with my whip for the trees at the side of the path, and thus was able to +guide the horse when its own confidence faltered. + +Instead of cooling, the air became close. Suddenly the forest was +lighted up by a pale flash which, lasting but a moment, was followed +after a time by a distant rumble of thunder. + +"It is far away, Madame," said I. "It may not come in this direction, or +we may be safely housed before it does." + +"I am not afraid." + +However, lest rain might fall suddenly, I stopped the horses, unrolled +from behind my saddle a cloak which I had bought in Vendome, and put it +around the Countess. We then proceeded as best we could. Slowly as we +had gone, I began to think it time we should emerge from the forest; but +another flash of lightning showed apparently endless vistas of wood on +every side. We went on for another half hour or so, during which the +distant thunder continued at intervals; and then, finding ourselves as +deep in the forest as ever, I perceived that we must have strayed from +our right path. I stopped and told the Countess. + +"It must be so," she said. + +"I noticed no cross-path when I rode into the forest this afternoon. Yet +a path might join at such an angle that, looking straight ahead, I +should not have seen it. Yes, that is undoubtedly the case, if we are in +a path at all. Perhaps we are following the bed of a dried-up stream." + +"Do you wish to turn back, then?" + +"We might only lose ourselves. And yet that is what must happen if we go +ahead. Let us wait for a flash of lightning." + +One came presently, while my eyes were turned ready in what I thought +the direction from which we had come. But there seemed to lie no opening +at all in that direction. Then, in the blacker darkness that ensued, I +remembered that I had turned my horse slightly while talking of the +matter. I could not now tell exactly which direction we had come from. +It occurred to me that perhaps for some time we had wandered about in no +path at all, going where trees and underbrush left space clear enough to +be mistaken. + +I confessed that I knew not which way to go, even to find the original +path. + +"Is it best to ride on at random, in hope of coming upon something, or +to stay where we are till daylight?" I asked. + +The Countess had no will upon the matter. But the question was decided +for me by a heavy downpour of rain, which came in a rush without +warning. It was evident that the foliage over us was not thick. So I +shouted to the Countess that we would go on till we found trees that +gave more protection. I urged my horse to move, letting him choose his +own course, and he obediently toiled forward, I exerting myself to keep +the other horse close, and also feeling the way with my whip. + +As swift as the oncoming of the rain, was the increase of the lightning, +both in frequency and intensity. The fall of the rain seemed loud beyond +measure, but it was drowned out of all hearing when the thunder rolled +and reverberated across the sky. In the bright bursts of lightning, the +trees, seen through falling rain, seemed like companions suffering with +us the chastisement of the heavens; but in the darkness that intervened +between the flashes, the forest and all the world seemed to have died +out of existence, leaving nothing but the pelting waters and the din of +the storm. + +At last we came, not to a region where the boughs were less penetrable, +but to an open space where the downpour had us entirely at its mercy. I +thought at first we had got out of the forest, or into the glade we had +left: but a brilliant flash showed us it was another small clearing, +which rose slightly toward the thick woods on its further side. And the +same lightning revealed, against the background of trees, a solitary +tower, old and half-ruined, slender and of no great height. A doorway on +a level with the ground stood half open. + +"Did you see that?" I cried, when the lightning had passed. "There is +shelter." + +"It must be the tower of Morlon," said the Countess. + +"And who lives there?" + +"Nobody,--at least it was said to be empty when I used to hear of it. It +is all that is left of a house that was destroyed in the civil wars. +Hunting parties sometimes resort to it, and the peasants make use of it +when passing this way.--Yes, we have come far out of our road, if that +is really the tower of Morlon." + +"Then it is every man's house. The door is open." + +"It is an abandoned place, and people would take no care how they left +the door." + +"Let us go in, then. There can be nobody there, or the door would be +closed against this storm." + +I rode toward the spot where I supposed the tower was, and, rectifying +my course by the next flash, I presently felt the stone wall with my +whip. I dismounted, found the entrance, pushed the door wide, and saw by +the lightning a low-ceiled interior, which was empty. I led the horses +in, helped the Countess from the saddle, and removed her cloak, which, +though itself drenched, had kept her clothes comparatively dry. + +My first thought was of a place where the Countess might recline. But, +as I found by groping about and by the frequent lightning, there was +nothing except the floor, which, originally paved with stone, was now +covered with dried mud from the boots of many who had resorted to the +place before ourselves. There were no steps leading to the upper stories +of the tower: the part we were in was, indeed, but a sort of basement. +It occupied the full ground space of the tower, with the rough stone as +its only shell, and had no window nor any discoverable opening place in +the low ceiling. + +Thinking there might be an external staircase to the story above us, I +went out and felt my way around the tower, but found none. The entrance +to the main or upper part of the tower from the buildings that once +adjoined must have been to the story above, from a floor on the same +level. I thought of seeking the opening and climbing in from the back of +my horse, but I reflected that the upper stories also would doubtless be +denuded, while they could offer no better shelter from the rain. So I +was content with taking the saddles from the horses, and placing them +together upside down in such a way that they constituted a dry reclining +place for the Countess. + +There was no dry wood to be had from the forest, and no fuel of any kind +in our place of refuge; so I could not make a fire. While the Countess +sat in silence, I paced the floor until I succumbed to fatigue. By that +time, much of the water had dripped from my clothes, and I was able to +sit on the carpet of earth with some comfort. I leaned my back against +the wall, to wait till the storm and the night should pass. + +The horses had lain down, and the Countess, as I perceived by her deep +breathing and her not answering me, was asleep. The thunder and +lightning were less near and less powerful, but the rain still fell, now +decreasingly and now with suddenly regathered force. At last I too +slept. + +I awoke during the night, and changed from a sitting to a lying +position. When I next opened my eyes, the light of dawn was streaming in +at the door. The storm had ceased, birds were twittering outside. I was +aching and hungry. The Countess's face, as she slept, betokened weakness +and pain. I went and adjusted a saddle-flap that had got awry under her. +As I did so, she awoke. + +"I am so tired," she said in a slow, small voice, like that of a weary +child. + +"You are faint for want of food," said I. "You have eaten nothing since +noon yesterday, and very little then." + +Thinking I wished to hurry our departure in search of breakfast, she +shook her head and murmured weakly: + +"I am not able to go on just now. I assure you, I cannot even stand. All +strength seems to have gone out of me." As if to illustrate, she raised +her hand a few inches: it trembled a moment, then fell as if powerless. + +It was plain that she was, whether from fatigue and privation alone, or +from illness also, in a helpless state. It would be cruelty and folly to +put her on horseback. And without at least the refreshment of food and +wine, how was her condition to be improved so that she might leave this +place? + +After some thought and talk, I said: + +"The only thing is for me to go and get you food and wine, while you +stay here. But, alas, what danger you may be in while I am gone! If +anybody should come here and find you!" + +"Nobody may come. Surely there are many days when this place is left +deserted." + +"But if somebody _should_ come?" + +"All people are not cruel and wicked. It might be a person who is kind +and good." + +"But the robbers?" + +"Why should they come? There is nothing for them here. If they came it +would be by chance; against that, we can trust in God." + +"Perhaps intruders can be bolted out," said I, going to examine the +door. It was of thick oak, heavily studded with nails, and two of its +three hinges still held firmly. But there was no bolt, nor any means of +barring. + +"Nothing but a lock," I said, "and no key for that." It only aggravated +my feeling of mockery to discover that both parts of the lock were still +strong. In my petulance I flung the door back against the wall. + +As one sometimes gives the improbable a trial, from mere impulse of +experiment, I took from my pocket the two keys I had brought from +Lavardin. I tried first that of the room in which I had been imprisoned: +it was too small, and of no avail. I then inserted the key of the +postern. To my surprise, it fit. I turned it partly around; it met +resistance: I used all my power of wrist; the lock, which had stuck +because it was rusted and long unused, yielded to the strength I +summoned. + +"Thank God!" I cried. "It seems like the work of providence, that I kept +the postern key." + +I now reversed and withdrew the key, and applied it to the lock from the +inside of the door, which I had meanwhile closed. But alas!--no force of +mine could move the lock from that side, though I tried again and again. + +I went outside and easily enough locked the door from there. I then +renewed my endeavours from the inside, but with failure. + +"Alas!" said I, turning to the Countess; "if I cannot lock the door from +within, how much less will you be able to do so." + +"But you can lock it from without," she answered, taking trouble to +secure my peace of mind. "Why not lock me in? It will be the same thing. +In either case I should not go out during your absence." + +"That is true," I said. "I will make haste. If the door is locked +against intruders, what matters it which of us has the key? I will guard +it as my life,--nay, that too I will guard as never before, for yours +will depend upon it." + +I then questioned the Countess as to what part of the forest we were in, +but her knowledge of the location of the tower, with regard to roads or +paths, was vague. + +I decided to take both horses with me, lest one, being heard or seen, in +or about the tower, might excite the curiosity of some chance passer +through the forest. But I left the saddles with the Countess. Anxious to +lose no more time, I knelt and kissed her hand, receiving a faint smile +in acknowledgment of my care; led out the horses, locked the door, +pocketed the key, mounted, and was off. I went haunted by the sweet, +sorrowful eyes of the Countess as they had followed me to the door. + +With the sun to guide me, I rode Westward, for in that direction must be +the highway we had left the day before. By keeping a straight course, +and taking note of my place of emergence from the forest, I should be +able to find my way back to the tower. The leaves overhead were nowhere +so thick but that splashes of sunshine fell upon the earth and +undergrowth, and, by keeping the shadow of my horse and myself ever +straight in front, I maintained our direction. But besides this I +frequently notched the bark of some tree, always on its South side, with +my dagger. Having this to do, and the second horse to lead, and the +underbrush being often difficult, my progress was slower than suited my +impatience. But in about an hour and a half from starting, I came out of +the forest upon the bank of the Loir, which is so insignificant a stream +thereabouts that I may not have mentioned fording it upon entering the +woods on the previous day. I let the horses drink, and then rode +through, and across a meadow to the highway. I turned to the right, and +arrived, sooner than I had expected, at the gate of a town, which proved +to be Bonneval. I stopped at the inn across from the church, saw to the +feeding of my horses, and then went into the kitchen. I ordered a supply +of young fowl, bread, wine, milk in bottles, and other things; and +bargained with the innkeeper for a pair of pliable baskets and a strap +by which they might be slung across my horse like panniers. While I +waited for the chickens to roast, I used the time in reviving my own +energies with wine, eggs, and cold ham, which were to be had +immediately. + +Three or four people came or went while I was eating, and each time +anybody crossed the threshold of the door, I glanced to see what sort of +person it was. This watchfulness had become habitual to me of late. But +as I was about finishing my meal, with my eyes upon my plate, I had an +impression that somebody was standing near and gazing at me. As I had +not observed any one to come so close, I looked up with a start. And +there stood Monsieur de Pepicot, his nose as long as ever, his eyes as +meek as when they had first regarded me at Lavardin. + +"My faith!" I exclaimed. "You rise like a spirit. I neither saw nor +heard you enter." + +"I am a quiet man," he replied with a faint smile, sitting down opposite +me. + +"You are the very ghost of silence itself," said I. "What do you wear on +the soles of your boots?" + +Again he smiled faintly, but he left my question unanswered. "So you +managed to keep out of trouble at that place where I last saw you?" said +he. + +"If I did not keep out of it, at least I got out of it." + +"You are a clever young man,--or a lucky one. I was a little disturbed +in mind at leaving you as I did. But--business called me. I knew that if +you could manage to keep a whole body for ten days or so, even if that +amiable Count did see fit to cage you up, you would be set free in the +end." + +"Set free? By the Count, do you mean?" + +"Not at all. By those who would visit the Count; by those who have--But +stay,--have you not just come from Lavardin?" + +"No, indeed. I left that hospitable house more than a week ago. I set +myself free." + +"Oh, is that the case? I ask your pardon. When I saw you here, I +naturally supposed your liberation was a result of what has just +occurred. I haven't yet learned all particulars of the event." + +"What event? I don't understand you." + +"Then you don't know what has been going on at Lavardin recently?" + +"Not I." + +"Oh, indeed? Well, it will be known to all the world very soon. The +Count, it seems, was suspected of some hand in the late intrigue with +Spain--" + +"Ah!" + +"Why do you say 'Ah!'?" + +"Nothing. I always thought there might be something wrong with the +Count's politics." + +"Well, so they thought in Paris. And having made sure--" + +"How did they make sure?" + +"Oh, by the discovery of certain documents, no doubt," said Monsieur de +Pepicot, with a notable unconsciousness. "It is the usual way, is it +not?" + +"Aha! I begin to see now. You overdo the innocence, my friend. I begin +to guess what you were doing at Lavardin--" + +"Monsieur, I know not what you mean." + +"I begin to guess why you wanted to get into the chateau,--what you were +wandering about the house with a lantern for,--why you took your leave +so unexpectedly,--and how you knew that in ten days I should be set +free." + +"Nay, Monsieur, I cannot follow you in your perceptions. I know only +that on Monday evening a party of the King's guard appeared before the +Chateau de Lavardin--" + +"Having been sent from Paris soon after you had arrived there with the +documents you found in the chateau." + +"Please do not interrupt with your baseless conjectures, Monsieur. As I +said, the guards arrived at Lavardin just as, by great good fortune, the +Count himself was returning from some journey or excursion he had been +on. Thus they met him outside his walls: had it been otherwise they +would doubtless have had infinite trouble, for, as we know, the chateau +has been for some time fully prepared for a siege, even to being +garrisoned by the company of Captain Ferragant." + +"What! then those fellows who thronged the court-yard--" + +"Were a part of Captain Ferragant's famous company,--only a part, as I +should have said at first, unless he has reduced its numbers. Well, +instead of having the difficulty of besieging the chateau, the guards +had the luck to meet the Count in the road, when he had only a few +followers with him. And so they made short work." + +"They succeeded in arresting him?" + +"Not exactly that. He chose to resist, no doubt thinking he would soon +be reinforced from the chateau by the Captain and garrison. And in the +fight, the Count was killed,--stuck through the lungs by the sword of a +guard who had to defend himself from the Count's own attack." + +"My God! the Count killed!--dead!--out of the way!" For a moment I +entirely yielded to the force of this news, which to my ears meant so +much. + +"Yes. You don't seem grieved.--Yes: he will never annoy people again. +The Captain, though, seeing from the chateau how matters had gone, came +out with his men on horseback,--not to avenge the Count, but to ride off +as fast as possible in the other direction. So the King's guardsmen had +no trouble in getting into the chateau. A party of them, I believe, set +off in pursuit of the Captain, who has long been a thorn in the side of +people who love order. If he is caught, it can be shown that he was +involved in the treason; and there it is." + +"So the Captain has not been caught?" + +"He had not been when I heard the news." + +"And how did you hear it?" + +"From one of the guardsmen, who happens to be of my acquaintance. I saw +them as they came through Chateaudun yesterday afternoon, on their +return from this business. We had very little time for talking." + +"Then you were not with them at Lavardin?" + +"I with them? Certainly not, Monsieur. Why should I have been with them? +No; I have been staying in this part of the country for my own pleasure +the past few days: I think of buying some apple orchards near +Chateaudun.--I fancied you would be interested in this news." + +"I am, dear Monsieur de Pepicot,--infinitely. I am sorry I must leave +you now, but I have business of some haste. I thank you heartily, and +hope we may meet again. You know where La Tournoire is." + +Five minutes later, with my baskets slung before me, and having left one +horse at the inn, I was riding out of Bonneval to tell the Countess that +she was free. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +THE MERCY OF CAPTAIN FERRAGANT + + +I had come to a place where the road runs, narrower than ever, between +banks covered with bushes. All at once the perfect loneliness and +silence were broken by three or four men leaping out of the bushes in +front of me and barring the way, one presenting a pistol, another a long +pike, while a third prepared to seize my rein. I instantly spurred +forward, to make a dash for it: at the same time I was conscious that +other fellows had sprung into the road behind me. The knave caught both +reins close to the bit, and hung on under the horse's head, while the +poor animal tried to rear. I drew sword and dagger, and leaned forward +to run this fellow through. As I made my thrust, my senses suddenly went +out in a kind of fire-streaked darkness. As I afterwards learned, I had +been struck on the back of the head with a loaded cudgel by one of the +unseen men behind. When I came to myself I was lying on the earth in a +little bushy hollow away from the road: my hands were tied behind me, +and around each ankle was fastened a rope, of which one of my assailants +held the loose end. These two fellows and their four comrades were +seated on the ground, eating the fowls and drinking the wine and milk I +had provided for the Countess. One of them wore my sword, another had my +dagger. My purse lay empty on the grass, and my horse was hobbled with +the strap from my baskets. + +My first thought was of the key. Searching about with my eyes, I +presently saw it, with the other one, at the edge of the bushes, where +they had doubtless been thrown as of no value. + +My head was aching badly, but that was nothing to the terror in my heart +for the Countess: if I was hindered from going to her, who was to give +her aid?--nay, who was to release her from that dark hiding-place? She +would die for lack of food and air,--her cell of refuge would be her +tomb! + +"Ah!" exclaimed one of the robbers; "the worthy young gentleman comes to +life." + +"You are right," said I, trying to hit the proper mood in which to deal +with them. "I'm not sorry, either, as I was in some haste to get on. My +friends, as you appear to have emptied me of everything that can be of +any use to you, what do you say to allowing my poor remaining self to go +about my business?" + +"And to give information about us as soon as you get to Chateaudun, eh?" +said one. + +I was satisfied to let them think I was bound for Chateaudun. + +"No," I replied. "Poor as I am, the toll you have collected from me is +not as much as my necessity of finishing my journey. So if you will +untie me, and can find it in your hearts to give me back my horse--or at +worst to let me go afoot,--I will cry quits, and give you my word of +honour to forget you completely." + +"You speak well, young gentleman: but it's not to us that you need +speak. We shall be taking you presently to one you can make proposals +to." + +"Why should you waste time in taking me to your leader, when you are +quite able to make terms yourselves?" said I. "Come. I can offer him no +more than I can offer you. Suppose it were a hundred crowns: he would +have the lion's share of it, and you poor fellows would get but a small +part. If I deal with you alone, he need be never the wiser, and you will +have the whole sum to divide among you." + +"And how would you get the five hundred crowns?" + +"I said one hundred: I would get them by going for them: I would give +you my promise on the honour of a gentleman." + +The ruffians laughed. "No," said the one who had spoken most. "You would +have to stay with us, and send for them. And our leader is the one to +manage that. He will make you a fine, fair offer, no doubt." + +My heart sank. I tried persuasion, but nothing could move them. +Doubtless each was afraid of the others, or they were very strongly +under the dominion of their chief. + +I asked them to give me back my keys, whereupon one of them put the keys +in his own wallet. They finished the food and drink, and made ready to +depart. Their preparations consisted mainly of blindfolding me with a +thick band of cloth, putting me on my horse, and tying together under +the animal's belly the ropes that bound my ankles. Then a man mounted +behind me, I heard another take the rein to lead, the horse was turned +around several times so as to confuse my sense of direction, and we set +off. We presently crossed a stream, and a little later I knew by sound +and smell that we were in the forest. When we had traversed a part of +it, the horse was again turned around twice or thrice, and we continued +on our way. All the time I was thinking of her who waited for me in the +darkness of her tomb-like prison. + +At last, by feeling the sun upon me and by other signs, I knew that we +had come to a space clear of trees. We stopped a moment, and I heard +calls exchanged and a gate opened; and then my horse's feet passed from +turf to a very rough, irregular pavement. The sound of horses in their +stalls at one side, the cooing of pigeons at the other, the gate, the +rude paving, the remote situation, all taken together informed me that +we were in an enclosed farm-yard. We stopped a second time, and my ankle +ropes being then detached from each other, I was hauled down from the +horse. The men with me were now greeted by others, who came apparently +from the side buildings. I was led forward into a stone-floored passage, +where I had to sit on a bench, guarded by I know not how many, while one +went up a flight of stairs near at hand, evidently to give an account of +their prize to somebody in authority. Presently a voice from above +called down, "Bring the prisoner hither," and I was taken upstairs and +through a doorway. + +My entrance drew an ejaculation from a person already in the room, who +thereupon gave orders in a low voice. I was made to sit on the floor, +and my ankles were tied close together. A chain was then wound +ingeniously about my ankle-bonds, my legs, and the cords at my wrists; +passed through a hole in the floor and around a cross beam, and finally +fastened with a padlock, in such a way that I was secured beyond power +of extricating myself. + +"Now, go, and wait in the passage," said the voice in which the previous +orders had been given. "But first take that rag from his eyes. He may as +well see: it will amuse him, and will not hurt us,--I will take care of +that." + +The band was removed, and I found myself in a bare, plastered room with +a barred window. In front of me stood a large man with a mask on his +face. Where the mask ended, his beard began, so that he presented a +visage entirely of black. The robbers who had brought me hither went +out, closing the door, and I was left alone with this man. + +He regarded me a moment; then dropped into a chair, with a low grunt of +laughter. + +"That it should be this fool, of all fools!" he began. "Who shall say +there is no such thing as luck? Monsieur, I am sure it will please you +to know into whose hands you have fallen." + +He took off his mask, and there was the red-splashed face of Captain +Ferragant. + +Surprise made me dumb for a moment, for he had hitherto disguised his +voice. He sat looking at me with a most cruel expression of malevolent +triumph. + +"So, this is where you have fled,--and you are the chief of the +robbers!" said I. + +"Call me that if you like. It matters nothing what names you prefer to +use. No ears will ever hear them but mine; and mine will not be long +afflicted with the sound." + +I shuddered, for I knew the implacability of this man, and my death +meant the death of the Countess,--death in the dark, mouldy basement of +the tower, death by stifling and starvation while she waited in vain for +me, a slow and solitary death, rendered the more agonizing to her mind +by suspense and fears. And this horrible fate must needs be hers just +when the cause of her sorrows and dangers had been removed! It was a +thought not to be endured. + +"You will have your jest," said I. "But I see no reason why you should +bear me malice. The Count de Lavardin is now a dead man, I hear. I can +no longer be against him, nor you for him. Therefore bygones should be +bygones, and I suppose you will make terms with me as with any other man +who happened to come before you as I do." + +"You do me an injustice, young gentleman: I am not so mercenary,--I do +not always make terms. It is true, I served the Count for pay; that is +what my company is for, and if he had not gone out of his chateau to +hunt his wife, we might have defended the place till the enemy was tired +out. But he allowed himself to be caught in the road,--you have heard +the news, then? What do they say of me?" + +"That when you saw the Count was killed, you ran away." + +"Yes, I was of no use to the Count then, and his own men in the chateau +were not well inclined toward me. They were for giving up the place, the +moment he was dead. I thought best to save my good fellows for better +service elsewhere." + +"Then your company and the band of robbers in this forest are the same?" + +"If you call them robbers,--they forage when there is need. I did not +have them all at the chateau. The good fellows who brought you here were +not at Lavardin with me. It is well, when one is in a place, to have +resources outside. And so we meet again, my young interloper! You were +rude to me once or twice at Lavardin. I shall pay you for that, and +settle scores on behalf of my friend the Count as well." + +"How much ransom do you want?" I asked bluntly. "Name a sum within +possibility, and let me go for it immediately: you know well you can +rely upon my honour to deliver it promptly at any place safe for both of +us, and to keep all a secret." + +"Do not insult me again. I have told you I am above purchase." + +Despite his jesting tone, my hope began to fall. + +"You are not above prudence, at least," I said. "I assure you there are +people who will move earth and heaven to find what has become of me, and +whose powers of vengeance are not light." + +"If I went in fear of vengeance, my child, I should never pass an easy +moment. I have learned how to evade it,--or, better still, to turn it +back on those who would inflict it. I fear nobody. When the game is not +worth the risk, one can always run away, as I did from Lavardin when the +Count's death threw his men into a panic." + +"Good God!" I cried, giving way to my feelings; "what will move you, +then? What do you wish me to do? Shall I humiliate myself to plead for +my life? shall I beg mercy? If I must descend to that, I will do so." + +For you will remember another life than mine was staked upon my fate, +and time was flying. How long could she endure without food, without +drink, without renewal of air, in that locked-up place of darkness? + +"Mercy, I beg," I cried, in a voice broken by fears for her. + +"You have hit upon the right way, at last," said the Captain, and my +heart bounded in spite of his continued irony of voice and manner. "You +beg for mercy, you shall have it. I will give you your life, and your +liberty as well: on your part, you will tell me where the Countess de +Lavardin is; as soon as I have made sure you have told the truth, I will +set you free." + +I gazed at him in silence. + +"Is not that merciful?" said he; "a full pardon for all your affronts +and offences, in return for a trifling piece of information?" + +"It is a piece of information I cannot give you," I replied. + +"It is a waste of time and words to try to deceive me," said the red +Captain. "A young gentleman who risks so much for a lady as you have +done, and accomplishes so much for her,--yes, they were wonders of +prowess and courage, I admit, and I compliment you upon them,--a young +gentleman who does all that for a lady does not so soon lose knowledge +of her whereabouts. Do not trifle with me, Monsieur. Where is the +Countess? There is no other way by which you can save yourself." + +"Do you think, then, a man who has shown the courage and prowess you +mention, for the sake of a lady, would save himself by betraying her?" + +"Oh, you are young, and may have many years before you--a life of great +success and honour. There are other beautiful ladies in the world. In a +very short time you can forget this one." + +"I think it is for you to forget her," said I on the impulse. "As for +me, I would rather die!" + +Ah, yes, it was easy enough to die, if that were all: but to leave her +to die, and in such a manner, was another thing. Yet I knew she would +prefer death, in its worst form, to falling into the unrestrained hands +of the red Captain. The man's eyes, from the moment when he introduced +her name, betrayed the eagerness of his new hope to make himself her +master,--though he still controlled his speech. I say his new hope, for +it must have arisen upon the death of the Count, during whose life, not +daring openly to play the rival, he had found his only satisfaction in a +revenge which provided that none might have what was denied to him. It +was for me to decide now whether she should die or find herself at the +mercy of Captain Ferragant. Was it right that I should decide for her as +she would decide for herself? Was it for me to consign her to death, +though I was certain that would be her own choice? Even though the +Captain found her, was not life, with its possible chance of future +escape, of her being able to move him by tears and innocence, of some +friendly interposition of fate, preferable to the sure alternative doom? + +"I will leave you to make up your mind quietly," said the Captain. "When +you are ready to speak to the point, call to the men in the +passage,--one of them will come to me. The door will be left open. I +hope you will not be slow in choosing the sensible course: I cannot give +you many hours for consideration." + +He went out, addressed some orders to four or five men who sat on a +bench facing my door, and disappeared: I heard his feet descending the +stairs. My door was left wide open, so that I was directly in the gaze +of the men. But even if I had been unobserved, I could not have moved +from the place where I sat. Any effort to break my bonds, either of +wrist or ankle, by sheer strength, was but to cause weakness and pain. +My arms ached from the constraint of their position, and, because of +them behind me, it was impossible to lie at full length on my back. Nor +would the chain, without cutting into my thighs, permit me to lie on +either side. I was thus unable to change even my attitude. + +But my discomforts of body were nothing in presence of the question that +tore my mind. Minutes passed; time stretched into hours: still I +discussed with myself, to which of the fates at my choice should I +deliver her? Should I give her to death, or to the arms of the red +Captain? Little as she feared the first, much as she loathed the second, +dared I take it upon myself to assign her to death? Had it been mere +death, without the horrors of darkness and desertion, without the +anxious wonder as to why I failed her, I should not have been long in +deciding upon that. For that would be her wish, and I should not survive +her. Let us both die, I should have said; for what will life be to her +after she has fallen into the hands of this villain, and what to me +after I have delivered her into them? But the peculiar misery of the +death that threatened her, kept the problem still busy in my mind. + +And yet I could not bring myself to yield her to the Captain. + +The day had become afternoon, and I still debated. The Countess must +have expected me to return before this time. What was her state now? +what were her conjectures? Ah, thought I, if we had not found our way to +that lonely tower, if the storm had not come up the previous night, if +we had started to leave the forest earlier!--nay, if I had had the +prevision, upon hearing of the presence of robbers, to make her turn +back to Chateaudun with me, and lodge quietly there until the Mother +Superior of the convent could be sounded, and a safe way of approach be +ascertained, all would now be well. We should have heard in the meantime +of the Count's death. Yes, everything had gone wrong since the Countess +had taken the road for the forest. The third of Blaise Tripault's maxims +which he had learned from the monk came back to me with all the force of +hapless coincidence: + +"_Never leave a highway for a byway._" + +The thought of Blaise Tripault made me think of my father. What a +mockery it was to know that I, chained helpless to the floor in this +remote stronghold of ruffians, was the son of him, the Sieur de la +Tournoire, the invincible warrior before whose sword no man could stay, +and who would have rushed to the world's end to save me or any one I +loved! To consider my need, and his power to help, and that only his +ignorance of my situation stood between, was so vexing that in my +bitterness of soul, regardless of the men in the passage, I cried out to +the empty air, "Oh, my father! If you but knew!" + +And then, for a moment, as if the bare wall were no impediment, I saw a +vision of my father, with his dauntless brow and grizzled beard, his +great long sword at his side, riding toward me among green trees. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +THE SWORD OF LA TOURNOIRE + + +The light softened and faded into that of evening. Another set of men +took the places of those outside my door. No food nor drink was brought +me, and I supposed the Captain hoped by this neglect to reduce me the +sooner to a yielding state. But I was even glad to have to undergo some +of the discomforts which the Countess must needs be enduring. I gave up +hope of her life or my own, and, leaning forward so as to get some +relief of position, I fell into a kind of drowsy lassitude. + +Suddenly, through my window, which overlooked the court-yard, I heard a +low call at the gate, which was answered. Presently I heard the gate +close, and assumed it had been opened to let in the man who had uttered +the call. About a minute after that, there was a considerable noise in +the yard, as of men hastily assembling. Then came the voice of the +Captain, apparently addressing the whole company. When he finished, +there was a general movement of feet, as of men dispersing about the +yard, and this was followed by complete silence. + +The men in the passage were now joined by a comrade, who spoke to them +rapidly in a low tone. They whispered to one another in some excitement, +but did not leave their places nor take their eyes from me. + +The next sound I heard was of the tread of horses approaching. My +curiosity now aroused, I strained my ears. The hoof-beats came to the +gate, and then I heard a loud knock, followed by no other sound than of +the pawing and snorting of the horses as they stood. There must have +been at least a score of them. + +Presently the unheeded knock was repeated, and then a quick, virile +voice called out: + +"Hola, within there! Open the gate, in the name of the King!" + +My heart leaped. The voice was that of the royal guardsman who had saved +the Countess from the robbers the previous evening. But his party was +now evidently much larger than before. + +No answer was given to his demand. The red Captain's intent apparently +was to make these newcomers believe the place deserted. I had an impulse +to shout the truth, but I saw my guards watching me, their hands on +their weapons, and knew that my first word would be the signal for my +death. So I kept silence. + +"If you do not open the gate at once," the guardsman cried, "we will +open it for ourselves, in our own way." + +I now heard footsteps shuffling across the yard, and then one of the +robbers spoke, in the quavering tones of an old man: + +"Pardon, Monsieur. Pardon, I pray, but it is impossible for me to open. +I am all alone here in charge of this place, which is empty and +deserted, and I'm forbidden to open the gate to anybody but the master. +He would kill me if I disobeyed, and besides that, I have taken a vow. +There is nothing here that you can want, Monsieur." + +"There is shelter for the night to be had here, and that we mean to +have. We are on the business of the King, and I command you to open." + +"I dare not, Monsieur. I should imperil my life and my soul. There is a +lodge in the forest a mile to the east, and the keeper will see to all +your wants: there is plenty of shelter, food for yourselves, hay for +your horses, everything you can need. Here all is dismantled and empty." + +"Old man, you are lying. Unbar the gate in a moment, or your life will +indeed be in danger." + +To this the "old man" gave no answer, except to come away from the gate +with the same simulated walk of an aged person. + +I heard the horsemen discussing in low tones. Then, to my dismay, came +the sound of hoofs again, this time moving away. Now I was more than +ever minded to cry out, but my guards were ready to spring upon me with +their daggers. I might have sought this speedy death, but for the sudden +thought that the withdrawal of the royal guardsmen might be only +temporary. + +I know not how many minutes passed. The sound of the horses had died out +for some time. I became sensible of the tramp of men's feet. Were the +guardsmen returning without their horses? Suddenly the red Captain's +voice arose in the court-yard: + +"To the walls, you with firearms! Shoot them down as they try to batter +in the gate! All the rest, stand with me to kill them if they enter!" + +The tramp of the guardsmen came swiftly near. I heard the reports of +muskets and pistols. There was a loud thud, as of some sort of ram--a +fallen branch or trunk from the forest--being borne powerfully against +the gate. This was answered by defiant, profane shouts and more loud +detonations. My guards in the passage groaned, exclaimed, and clenched +their weapons, mad to be in the fray. I could only listen and wait. + +There was a second thud against the gate, amidst more cries and shots. +And soon came a third, the sound being this time prolonged into a crash +of timber. A shout of triumph from the invaders, a yell of execration +from the red Captain and his men, and the clash of steel, told that the +gate had given way. + +"Follow close, gentlemen! Trust me to clear a path!" cried a hearty +voice, cheerful to the point of mirth, which thrilled my soul. + +"Ay, follow him close!" cried the leader of the guardsmen; "follow the +sword of La Tournoire!" + +I could have shouted for joy, but that it was now worth while postponing +death by minutes. + +The noise of clashing swords increased and came nearer, as if the +guardsmen were pouring in through the gateway and driving the defenders +back toward the house. Now and then came the sound of a pike or reversed +musket meeting steel armour, and all the time fierce exclamations rose +from both parties. There was no more firing; doubtless the melee was too +close and general for anybody to reload. + +The men in the passage, as the tumult grew and approached, became as +restless as dogs in leash that whine and jump to be in the fray. At last +one of them ran into my room and looked out of the window. + +"Death of the devil, how they are at it!" he cried, for the information +of his comrades outside my door. "I think we shall be wanted in a minute +or two. These cursed intruders have forced the gateway. Our fellows are +twice as many as they, but their heads and bodies are in steel,--all but +one, a middle-aged man with gray in his beard. He has no armour on, but +he leads the others. Body of Satan! you should see him clear the ground +about him. He thrusts in all directions at once: his sword is as long as +a man, and it darts as quickly as the tongue of a snake. Ha! it has just +cut down old Cricharde.--And now it has stung Galparoux.--Holy +Beelzebub, what a man! He fights like a fiend, and all the time with a +gay face as if he were at his sport.--Ah! there he has let daylight into +poor Boirac.--But now--good!--at last our Captain has planted himself in +front of this devil: it was high time: he will find his match now. By +God, it will be worth looking at, the fight between the red Captain and +this stranger,--there aren't two such men in France. They are taking +each other's measure now,--each one sees what sort of stuff he has run +against. Ah!" + +What the last exclamation meant, I could not know. The man's attention +had become too close for further speech. But I supposed that a pass had +been made between my father and the red Captain, and that it had been +nothing decisive, for the watcher's interest continued at the extreme +tension: he kept his face against the iron bars of the window, and made +no sound beyond frequent short ejaculations. The men in the passage +called to him for further news, but he did not heed them. To my ears the +fighting continued as general as before, with the shouts of many throats +and the clash of many weapons, so that I could not at all distinguish +the single combat between my father and the red Captain from the rest of +the fray. + +Presently the man gave a howl of rage. "Our Captain is being forced +back!" he cried. "We are getting the worst of the fight everywhere. It's +too much!--we are needed down there! To the devil with orders!--the +Captain will be glad enough if we turn the tide. And we'd better try our +luck down there than be taken here, for short time they'll give us for +prayers, my children." While speaking he had moved from the window to my +door. + +"Certainly this prisoner is safe enough," answered one of the men, +whereupon he and the others in the passage ran down the stairs. + +But the man who had been at the window turned to me. "Safe enough,--yes, +so it looks," said he. "Young man, the Captain must think you a +magician, to take so much pains against your escaping. If it came to the +worst, I was to kill you, and the time seems to have arrived: so, if +you'll pardon me--" + +"You will be a great fool," said I, as he approached with his sword +drawn; "for if you are taken alive my intervention will save your neck." + +"How do you know it will?" + +"By the fact that the gentleman down there whose fighting you so admire +is my father." + +"Indeed? You are a gentleman: do you give your word of honour for that?" + +"Yes; and to speak for you if I am alive when your side is finally +defeated." + +"Very good, Monsieur. I will hold you to that." Upon this he left me and +followed his comrades down the stairs. + +His footfalls had scarcely ceased upon the stairway, when other sounds +began to come from the same direction,--those of conflict in the +entrance hall below. Somebody had drawn his antagonist, or been forced +by him, into the house. There was the quick, irregular stamp of booted +feet on the stone floor, the keen music of sword striking sword. If the +fight spread generally into the house, and the defenders fled to the +upper rooms, my position must become more critical. So I listened rather +to this noise in the hallway than to the tumult in the court-yard. By +the sound of the steel coming nearer, and that of the footfalls changing +somewhat, I presently knew that one of the fighters had sought the +vantage--or disadvantage--of the staircase. But the other evidently +pushed him hard, for soon both combatants had reached the landing at the +turn of the stairs, as was manifest from a sudden increase of their +noise in my ears. I could now hear their short ejaculations as well as +the other sounds. They continued to approach: I listened for a stumble +on the stairs, to be followed by a death-cry: but these men were +apparently heedful as to their steps, and finally they were both upon +the level footing of the passage outside my room. I wondered if this +fight would be over before it could be opposite my doorway. In a few +moments I was answered. Into my narrow view came the large figure of the +red Captain, without a doublet, his muscular arms bare, his shirt open +and soaked with perspiration, his upper body heaving rapidly as he +breathed, his face streaming, his eyes fixed upon the enemy whose swift +rapier he parried with wonderful skill. The light of evening was dim in +the passage, and perhaps for that reason the Captain backed into my +room. His adversary followed instantly. + +"Father!" I cried, as the Sieur de la Tournoire appeared in the doorway: +in my emotion I thought not how I endangered him by distracting his +attention. + +But he was not to be thrown off his guard. He moved his head a little to +the side, so as to catch a glimpse of me behind the Captain, but this +did not prevent his adroitly turning a quick thrust which his enemy made +on the instant of my cry. + +"Hola, Henri!" said my father, with perfect calmness except for his +quickness of breath. "What the devil are you doing here?" + +"Sitting chained to the floor," I replied. + +At this the Captain suddenly leaped back almost to where I was, and I +suppose his intention was to place himself eventually where he would +have me between him and my father and could kill me without ceasing to +face the latter. But he may have considered an attempt to pass over me +as unsafe for his subsequent footing, and so his next movement was +sidewise: my father, following close, gave him work every moment. The +Captain again stepping backward, I was now at his right and a little in +front, so that, if he could gain but a spare second, he could send a +finishing thrust my way. With my head turned so as to keep my eyes upon +him, I could see by his look that he was determined not to risk my +outliving him. + +My father, too busy in meeting the Captain's lunges, and in trying what +thrust might elude his defence, thought best to expend no more breath in +talk with me, and so the fighting went on without words. Suppose, +thought I, my father kills the Captain but the Captain first kills me? +Had I not better now tell my father to seek the Tower of Morlon and +release a person confined there? But if I did that, the Captain would +hear, and suppose he killed my father as well as me! I held my tongue. + +The Captain now maintained his position, neither giving ground nor +pressing forward. The two combatants were between me and the window, +through which still came sounds of struggle from the yard below. But +these sounds were fewer, except those of cheers, which grew more +frequent. + +"Good! Our friends are gaining the day!" said my father to me. + +"But you, Messieurs, shall not crow over it!" cried the Captain, and +made a long thrust, as swift as lightning. My father caught it on the +guard of his hilt, within short distance of his breast, at the same +instant stepping back. The Captain did not follow, but darted his sword +at me, with the cry, "Not for you the Countess!" I contracted my body +and thought myself done for. My father's impulsive forward movement, +however, disconcerted the Captain's arm in the very moment of his lunge, +and his point but feebly stung my side and flew back again, his guard +recovered none too soon to save himself. My father's thrusts became now +so quick and continuous that the Captain fell back to gain breath. My +father drove him to the wall. Shouting a curse, the Captain thrust for +my father's midriff. My father, with a swift movement, received the +sword between his arm and body, and at the same instant ran his own +rapier into the Captain's unguarded front, pushed it through his lung, +and pinned him to the wall. + +[Illustration: "MY FATHER'S THRUSTS BECAME NOW SO QUICK AND +CONTINUOUS."] + +The Captain's arms dropped, his head hung forward, and as soon as the +sword was drawn out, he tumbled lifeless to the floor. + +My father leaned against the wall till he regained a little breath and +energy; then he wiped his brow and sword, and came over to me. + +"How have they got you trussed up?" he asked. "And how came you into +their hands?--I should be amazed to find you here, if I hadn't seen +stranger things before now." + +While he cut the cords that bound my ankles and wrists, I told him how I +had been waylaid. "I was going with food and wine to a friend who lies +locked in a deserted tower called Morlon. She is ill to death, and may +now be dead for lack of food and air to keep up her strength. I must go +to her--" + +"A woman, then?" + +"Yes, a lady: I will tell you all, but there is no time to lose now. The +tower is in this forest. I must find my way there at once." + +"Patience, a moment," said my father. "Your chain is locked, I see:--but +no matter,--I can loosen it so that you can wriggle through." By having +cut the cords, around which the chain had been passed, he had relieved +the tautness, and was now able to do what he promised. He then took off +my boots, and, grasping me under the arms, drew me backward out of the +loosened coils as I moved them downward with my hands. At last I stood a +free man. I put on my boots, took the Captain's sword, and accompanied +my father down into the court-yard. + +The fight was now over there. Of the royal guardsmen, all in steel caps +and corselets, like the small party of them I had seen the previous +evening, some were wiping their faces and swords, and others were caring +for the hurts of comrades. Some of the robbers lay dead, several were +wounded, and the rest, having yielded their weapons, were looking after +their own disabled, under the direction of guardsmen. I recognized a +number of the rascals as men I had seen at the Chateau de Lavardin. The +commander of the troop of guards, he whom I had met before and whose +vigorous voice I had recognized, greeted my father with a look of +congratulation, and showed surprise at seeing me. + +"Tis a day of events," said my father. "I have killed the Count's +accomplice, and found my son.--Nay, there was no hope of that Captain's +surrendering." + +"My faith!--then your two quests are accomplished at the same moment," +said the leader of the guardsmen. "And, for another wonder, your son +turns out to be a person I have already met. But your friend, Monsieur?" +This inquiry was to me, and made with sudden solicitude. + +"Locked in the tower of Morlon, waiting for me to come with +food,--perhaps dying or dead.--Monsieur, I was brought here blindfold: +but I must find the way back to the tower of Morlon without delay,--it +is somewhere in this forest." + +"No doubt some of these gentry know the way," said the guardsman, +indicating the robbers. "We'll make it a condition of his life for one +of them to guide us." + +"You make me your life-long debtor, Monsieur," I cried. "And one of them +has the key: I think it is he lying yonder. As for food and wine--" + +"We are not without those," said the guardsman. "Our horses and supplies +are near at hand." + +I went among the dead and wounded to find the man who had taken +possession of my keys. Him I found, but the keys were not upon him. +Supposing he had given them to his master, I ran upstairs and examined +the pockets of the Captain, but in vain. Where to look next I knew not, +so I returned to the court-yard and made known my unsuccess. + +"Tut!" said my father; "a door is but a door, and we can break down that +of your tower as we broke down this gate. This gentleman"--meaning the +leader of the guardsmen--"has most courteously offered to accompany us, +with part of his noble troop, and he has chosen a guide from among the +prisoners." + +"Ay, they all know the tower," said the guardsman, "but this fellow +appears the most sensible.--Now, my man, how long will it take us, your +comrades bearing the pine trunk with which we rammed this gate, to reach +the tower of Morlon?" + +"Two hours, Monsieur, I should say," replied the robber. + +"It is too much," said the guardsman. "You will lead us thither in an +hour at the utmost, or at the end of the hour you shall hang to the tree +I then happen to be under." He thereupon gave orders to the guardsmen, +and to the prisoners. As night would overtake us in the forest, he had a +brief search made of the outhouses, and a number of dry pine sticks were +found, to serve as torches. Our party was to go mounted, except the +robbers impressed to carry the battering ram: so I went to the stalls at +one side of the yard, and found my own horse, chewing hay in fraternal +companionship with the animals which had doubtless brought Captain +Ferragant and his men from Lavardin. + +As I led out my horse, I suddenly bethought me of the man for whose life +I had promised to speak. During the final preparations for our start, I +looked again among the robbers, wondering why this man had not forced +himself upon my attention. But I soon found the reason: he lay on his +side, and when I turned him over I saw he was pierced between two ribs +and had no life left to plead for. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +THE MOUSTACHES OF BRIGNAN DE BRIGNAN + + +My father, the leader of the guardsmen, and several of his men walked, +while I rode, to the nearby edge of encircling woods, the defeated +robbers bearing the young tree-trunk. Here my father and the guardsmen +mounted, their horses having been tied to the trees. A pair of panniers +containing wine, bread, and cold meat, was placed across my father's +horse, a very strong animal, and, torches being lighted, we proceeded +through the forest. The guide led, being attached to a halter, of which +the commander of the guardsmen held the loose end. After the commander, +my father and I came, and behind us the burdened prisoners, who were +flanked and followed by the other guardsmen. + +On the way, I told my father who it was that lay in the tower, and gave +him a brief account of my whole adventure at Lavardin and in the forest. +He applauded my conduct, though counselling me in future to look well +before I leaped; and he approved of my offer to the Countess of the +hospitality of La Tournoire. + +"But what still makes me wonder," said I, "is that you should have found +me here, so far from Paris, whither you knew I was bound, and from +Vendome, whither Nicolas must have told you I was going." + +"But in truth my being here is very simple," said he. "As soon as +Nicolas came back to La Tournoire with your message the day after you +set out, I started for Paris to solicit your pardon for the affair at La +Flèche. Six days later I presented myself to the Duke de Sully, who +immediately took me for an audience of the King. There was a deal of +talk about the scandalous disregard of the edict against duels, the +great quantity of good blood wasted almost every day, the too frequent +granting of pardons, and all that. But in the end Henri would not refuse +me, and I have your pardon now in my pocket. But you must not be rash +another time: I promised for you, and assured the King you were no +fire-eater and had received great provocation." + +"Trust me to be prudent," said I. + +"Good! As you had not yet arrived in Paris," continued my father, "I +supposed you had been delayed at Vendome, whither, as you say, Nicolas +told me you were going. So I thought I would start for home by way of +Vendome, as you might still be there and perhaps in some scrape or +other, or I might meet you on the road between there and Paris. I stayed +overnight in Paris, as the Duke had invited me to wait upon him the next +day. I went and was very well received. As I was about to take my leave, +I mentioned that I was going to travel by Vendome. 'Ah,' said the Duke, +'then, if you wish, you may take a hand in a little affair which will be +like an echo of the old busy days.' I opened my eyes at this, and the +Duke told me that evidence had just been brought by one of his spies, +which warranted the arrest of a powerful malcontent in the neighbourhood +of Vendome, who had long been under suspicion,--in short, the Count de +Lavardin. A party of royal guards was about to be sent off at once to +take him in his chateau at Montoire, four leagues beyond Vendome, and I +might go with them as a volunteer, or in any case I might have their +company on my journey. I was quite ready for any affair that had a taste +of the old service in it, especially as these treasonable great lords +sometimes make a stout resistance in their chateaux. And so I had the +honour of being introduced to these gentlemen and becoming for the time +their comrade. That same afternoon I set out with them for Montoire, and +we arrived there last Sunday." + +"Ah! you must have passed through Vendome while we were in seclusion +there." + +"No doubt. That Count's business had to be attended to before he got +wind of our arrival, and so there was no time for inquiring about you at +Vendome. We came upon the Count and a party of attendants in the road, +not a quarter of a league from his chateau. As we heard at the chateau +afterwards, he had been searching the roads far and wide for his wife, +who had fled from his cruelties. He had the daring to resist arrest, and +there was some fighting, in which he was killed. It appears that the +fight and his fall were seen by watchers from the tower of his chateau, +and before we could arrive at that place his accomplice, this Captain +Ferragant, who was in the chateau at the time, made his escape. As soon +as we got to the chateau, we heard of this, and, as the Captain also was +wanted, there was nothing to do but give chase. A few of the guardsmen +were left to hold the chateau in the King's name, and the rest of us, +with no more than a sup and a bite, made off after this Captain. He had +so many followers with him, that he was not difficult to trace, and for +two days we kept his track, until we lost it at the edge of this forest. +From what we learned at Chateaudun, we guessed that his refuge was +somewhere in the forest. That was yesterday afternoon: we at once broke +up into small parties to search the forest, planning to reunite at a +chosen place to-day at noon." + +"It was one of those parties that saved the Countess from the robbers," +said I gratefully. + +"Ay, and there your story crosses mine. As for the ruffians who attacked +the Countess, they escaped without affording a clue to the Captain's +whereabouts,--for doubtless they were of his band, though this was not +certain. When our parties met to-day, one of them brought a forester who +offered to show the way to the Captain's hiding-place if he were allowed +to leave before coming in sight of it. We made full preparations, and +you know the rest. At first we thought our forester had fooled us, and +that the place we had come to was what it appeared, a solitary farmstead +in a clearing of the forest. But in such a case, it is always best to +make sure, and faith, that is what we did. So you see I chanced to find +you all the sooner for not having had time to look for you. But indeed +it was a timely meeting." + +In about an hour after the time of starting, we came to a clear space, +in the midst of which was the tower we sought. We could see it by the +starlight before we drew near with our torches. We all dismounted, and +with a fast-beating heart, I found the door. It was still locked. +Listening at the key-hole, I could hear no sound. I called out, "Louis!" +thinking she would understand I had company to whom her sex need not be +known. I wished to warn her of our assault upon the door, so that she +might stay clear of danger thereby. But no answer came, though I called +several times. I was now in great fear lest she had died. My father, who +read my feelings in my face, suggested that she might have fallen into +very deep unconsciousness, and that the best thing to do was to break in +the door forthwith, as carefully as possible, trusting she might not be +where there was chance of anything striking. As the place where I had +left her lying was not opposite the door, and there was no reason to +suppose she had chosen another, I gave up the attempt to warn her, and +without further loss of time we made ready to attack the door. All the +men in the party, both guardsmen and prisoners, laid hold of the +tree-trunk, by means of halters and ropes fastened around it, my father +and I placing ourselves at the head. The commander of the guardsmen, who +was immediately behind me, called out the orders by which we moved in +unison. Starting from a short distance, we ran straight for the tower, +and swung the tree forward against the door at the moment of stopping. A +most violent shock was produced, but the lock and hinges still held. We +repeated this operation twice. Upon our third charge, the door flew +inward. Leaving the trunk to the others, I hastened into the dark, close +basement, and groped my way to where I had left the Countess. + +"Madame!--Louis!" I called softly, feeling about in the darkness. + +A weak voice answered,--a voice like that of one just wakened from +profound sleep: + +"Henri, is it you?--Mon dieu, I am so glad!--I feared some evil had +befallen you." + +"Ah, Louis, you are living,--thank God!" + +"Living, yes: I have been asleep. Once I awoke, and wondered why you bad +not returned. I prayed for you, and then I must have slept again. But +what was it awakened me?--was there not a loud noise before I heard your +voice?--Who are those men at the door with torches?" + +I introduced my father, who, regarding her in the torchlight, and +showing as tender a solicitude as a woman's, soon came to the conclusion +that her state was no worse than one of extreme weakness for want of +food and fresh air. He carried her out, laid her tenderly on a cloak, +and administered such food and wine as were good for her. She submitted +with the docility and trust of a child. + +Leaving her for awhile, my father and I consulted with the leader of the +guardsmen, and it was decided that the Countess, my father, and I should +pass the night at the tower, the weather being warm and clear. The +guardsmen would return with their prisoners to the scene of their recent +battle, where much was to be put to rights. On the morrow they would +rejoin us, and we should all proceed to Bonneval, where my father's +deposition could be added to the report which the leader of the +arresting party would have to deliver in Paris in lieu of the Count and +Captain themselves. + +I could not let the leader go, even for the night, without expressing +the gratitude under which I must ever feel to him, for, though he was +still ignorant of the identity of the Countess, there was no concealing +from him that the supposed youth was a person very near my heart. + +"Pouf!" said he, in his manly way; "'tis all chance. I have done nothing +for you, but if I had done much I should have been repaid already in the +acquaintance of Monsieur de la Tournoire." + +"A truce to flattery," said my father. "It is I who am the gainer by the +acquaintance of Monsieur Brignan de Brignan." + +"Eh! Brignan de Brignan!" I echoed. + +"That is this gentleman's name," said my father, wondering at my +surprise. "Have we been so busy that I have not properly made you known +to him before?" + +I gazed at the gentleman's moustaches: they were indeed rather longer +than the ordinary. He, too, looked his astonishment at the effect of his +name upon me. + +"Pardon me, Monsieur," said I. "I have been staring like a rustic. I owe +you an explanation of my ill manners. I will give it frankly: it may +provide you with laughter. What I am now, I know not, but three weeks +ago I was a fool." I then told him how I had been taunted by a young +lady, whose name I did not mention, and with what particular object I +had so recently started for Paris. This was news to my father also, who +laughed without restraint. Brignan de Brignan, though certainly amused, +kept his mirth within bounds, and replied: + +"Faith. I know not any young lady in your part of France who has a right +to glory in my personal appearance, even if I were an Apollo,--who, by +the way, is not represented with moustaches. But I believe I know who +this girl may be,--I have met such a one in Paris, and avoided her as a +pert little minx. As for your folly, as you call it, it was no more +foolish than many a thing I have done." + +He had the breeding not to add, "At your age," and I loved him for that. +He and his men now set out upon their return to the farmstead, and my +father and I, after devising a more comfortable couch for the Countess +just within the open doorway of the tower, slept and watched by turns +outside. + +In the morning the Countess, partaking of more food, was in better +strength and spirits, and had the curiosity to ask how my father came to +be there. In telling her, I broke the news of the Count's death. For a +moment she was startled, and then pity showed itself in her eyes and +words,--pity for the man who had been swayed by such passions and +delusions, and who had died in his sin with none else to shed a tear for +him. The Captain's death, of which I next informed her, did not move her +as much. + +The turn of affairs caused a change of plan. She now resolved (as I had +foreseen) to return to Lavardin and do such honour to her husband's +memory as she might. Though his estates would probably, in all the +circumstances, be adjudged forfeit to the Crown, some provision would +doubtless be made for his widow. In any case, she might be sure of every +courtesy from the officer in command of the guardsmen now occupying the +chateau for the King, and there were certain jewels, apparel, and other +possessions of her own which could not be withheld from her. + +In the afternoon, when Brignan de Brignan and his comrades reappeared, +the Countess was able to ride: and that evening we were all in Bonneval. +Monsieur de Brignan had taken possession of several things found in an +iron-bound chest where Captain Ferragant had kept his treasures. Among +others were two papers stolen from me by the robbers,--the incriminating +fragment of a letter to the Count, and the note from the Countess which +I had found upon Monsieur de Merri. The former I destroyed, at the fire +in the inn kitchen: the latter I kept, and keep to this day. Besides +these, there were my purse; a quantity of gold, out of which I repaid +myself the amount I had been robbed of; and the two keys, which I +subsequently restored to the Chateau de Lavardin, whence they had come. + +We stayed the night at Bonneval. The next day the guardsmen started for +Paris, and our party of three for Montoire. As I took my leave of +Brignan de Brignan before the inn gate, I noticed that his moustaches +had undergone a diminution: indeed they now extended no further than his +lips. I supposed he had decided not to be distinguished by such marks +again. He expressed a hope of renewing acquaintance with me in Paris, +and rode off. The Countess, my father, and I turned our faces toward +Montoire, the Countess being now once more on Hugues's horse, which I +had left for a time at Bonneval. We had not gone very far, when a man +galloped after us, handed me a packet, and rode back as hastily as he +had come. I had scarce time to recognize him as a valet attached to the +party of guardsmen. + +I opened the packet, and found a piece of paper, to which two wisps of +hair were fastened by a thread, and on which was written in a large, +dashing hand: + +"_Behold my moustaches. Brignan de Brignan._" + +And so, after all, I might keep my promise to Mlle. Celeste! + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +AFTERWARDS + + +Two days later we arrived at Hugues's house, and were received with +great joy by him and Mathilde. Here the Countess, now happily improved +in health, resumed the attire of her sex, which she had there put off. +My father then accompanied her to the Chateau de Lavardin, and made her +known to the guardsman in command, by whom she was treated with the +utmost consideration. With Mathilde to attend her, she remained a few +days at the chateau, and then removed with her personal possessions to +the house of Hugues, whose marriage to Mathilde was no longer delayed. + +But meanwhile my father and I stayed only a day at Montoire, lodging at +the inn there. I did not go to the chateau, but my father took thither +the two keys, and brought away my sword and dagger, which had been +hanging undisturbed in the hall. My farewell to the Countess was spoken +in front of Hugues's gate when she started thence for the chateau, and +not much was said, for my father and Hugues were there, as well as +Mathilde, and the horses were waiting. But something was looked, and +never did I cease to carry in my heart the tender and solicitous +expression of her sweet eyes as they rested on me for a silent moment +ere she turned away. + +My father and I, on our homeward journey, stopped at La Flèche and +ascertained that Monsieur de Merri's relations had learned of his fate +and taken all care for the repose of his body and soul. It appeared that +he lived at Orleans, and was used to visit cousins in Brittany: thus, +then, had he chanced to stop at Montoire and fall in with the Count de +Lavardin. Alas! poor young gentleman! + +And now we arrived home, to the great relief of my mother; and Blaise +Tripault would hardly speak to my father or me, for envy of the +adventures we had passed through without him. But he spread great +reports of what I had done,--or rather what I had not done, for he made +me a chief hero in the destruction of the band of robbers. But this +unmerited fame scarcely annoyed me at all, for my thoughts were +elsewhere, and I was restless and melancholy. In a few days I resolved +to go to Paris,--by way of Montoire. But before I started, I took a walk +one fine afternoon along the stream that bounded our estate: and, as I +had expected, there was Mlle. Celeste on the other side, with her drowsy +old guardian. She blushed and looked embarrassed, and I wondered why I +had ever thought her charming. Her self-confidence returned in a moment, +and she greeted me with her old sauciness, though it seemed a trifle +forced: + +"Ah, Monsieur, so you have come back without going to Paris after all, I +hear." + +"Yes, Mademoiselle," I answered coldly. "But I have taken your advice +and looked a little into the eyes of danger; and I find it does make a +difference in one." + +"Oh, yes: I believe you fought a duel, and were present when some +highway robbers were taken; and now you have come back to rest on your +laurels." + +"No; I came back to give you these, as I promised." And I threw her the +packet containing the moustaches of Brignan de Brignan. She opened it, +and regarded the contents with amazement. I laughed. + +She looked at me now with real wonder, and I perceived I had grown +several inches in her estimation. + +"But don't think I took them against his will," said I. "I admit I never +could have done that. He gave me them in jest, and the proudest claim I +can make in regard to him is that he honours me with his friendship. +Good day, Mademoiselle." + +I came away, leaving her surprised and discomfited, for which I was not +sorry. She had expected to find me still her slave, and to expend her +pertness on me as before: though she might have known that if danger +would make a man of me, it would give me a man's eyes to see the +difference between a real woman and a scornful miss. + +I went to Paris, careful this time to avoid conflict with bold-speaking +young gentlemen at inns; and on the way I had one precious hour at +Hugues's house, wherein--upon his marriage to Mathilde--the Countess had +established herself, to the wonder of all who heard of it. She continued +to lodge there, her affairs turning out so that she was able to repay +Hugues liberally. She occupied herself in good works for the poor about +Montoire, and so two years passed, each day making her happier and more +beautiful. Many times I went between La Tournoire and Paris,--always by +way of Montoire. In Paris I saw much of Brignan de Brignan, whose +moustaches had soon grown back to their old magnitude. And one day whom +should I meet in the Rue St. Honoré but that excellent spy of Sully's, +Monsieur de Pepicot? + +I begged him to come into a tavern. "There is something you owe me," +said I, when we were seated; "an account of how you got out of the +Chateau de Lavardin that night without leaving any trace." + +"It was nothing," said the long-nosed man meekly. "I found an empty room +with a mullioned window, on the floor beneath ours, and let myself down +to the terrace with a knotted rope I had brought in my portmanteau." + +"But I never heard that any rope was found." + +"I had passed it round the inside of the window-mullion and lowered both +ends to the ground, attached to my portmanteau. In descending I kept +hold of both parts. When I was down, I had only to release one part and +pull the rope after me. I found a gardener's tool-shed, and in it some +poles for trellis-work. I placed two of these side by side against the +garden wall, at the postern door, and managed to clamber to the top." + +"But I heard of nothing being found against the wall." + +"Oh, I drew the poles up after me, and also my portmanteau, by means of +the rope, which I had fastened to them and to my waist. I let them down +to a plank which crossed the moat there, as I had observed before ever +entering the chateau. I dropped after them, and was lucky enough to +avoid falling into the moat. I hid the poles among the bushes: not that +it mattered, but I thought it would amuse the Count to conjecture how I +had got away. One likes to give people something to think of.--As for my +horse, I had seen to it that he was kept in an unlocked penthouse.--Ah, +well! that Count thought he was a great chess-player." And Monsieur de +Pepicot smiled faintly and shook his head. + +At the prospect of war, I joined the army assembling at Chalons, but the +lamentable murder of the King put an end to his great plans, and I +resumed my former way, swinging like a pendulum between Paris and La +Tournoire. One soft, pink evening in the second summer after my +adventure at Lavardin, I was privileged to walk alone with the Countess +in the meadows behind Hugues's mill. Health and serenity had raised her +beauty to perfection, and there was no trace of her sorrows but the +humble dignity and brave gentleness of her look and manner. + +"You are the loveliest woman in the world," I said, without any sort of +warning. "Ah, Louise--surely I may call you that now--how I adore you! I +cannot any longer keep back what is in my heart. See yonder where the +sun has set--that is where La Tournoire is. It seems to beckon us--not +me alone, but us--together. When will you come?--when may I take you to +my father and mother, and hear them say I could not have found a sweeter +wife in all France?" + +Trembling, she raised her moist eyes to mine, and said in a voice like a +low sigh: + +"Ah, Henri, if it were possible! But you forget the barrier: we are not +of the same religion. I know your mother changed her faith for your +father's sake; but I could never do so." + +"But what if I changed for your sake?" I said, taking her hand. + +"Henri! will you do that?" she cried, with a joy that told all I wished +to know. + +In truth, I had often thought of going over to the national form of +worship. As soon, therefore, as I got to La Tournoire after this +meeting, I opened the matter to my father. + +"Why," said he, "I think it a sensible resolve. The times are changed; +since King Henri's death, there is no longer any hope of us Huguenots +maintaining a balance. As a party, we have done our work, and are doomed +to pass away. Those who persist will only keep up a division in the +nation, from which they can gain nothing, and which will be a source of +useless troubles. As for the religious side of the question, some people +prefer artificial forms of expression, some do not. It is a matter of +externals: and if one must needs subscribe to a few doctrines he does +not believe, who is harmed by that? These things are much to women, and +we, to whom they are less, can afford to yield. I often fancy your +mother would like to go back to the faith of her childhood,--and if she +ever expresses the wish, I will not hinder her. When I married her, all +was different: I could not have become a Catholic then. Nor indeed can I +do so now. Blaise Tripault and I are too old for new tricks: we must not +change our colours at this late day: we are survivals from a bygone +state of things. But you, my son, belong to a new France. Our great +Henri said. 'Surely Paris is worth a mass': and I dare say this lady is +as much to you as Paris was to him." + +So the Church gained a convert and I a wife. Hugues and Mathilde came to +live on our estate. And Mlle. Celeste, in course of time, was married to +a raw young Gascon as lean as a lath, as poor as a fiddler, and as +thirsty as a Dutchman, but with moustaches twice as long as those of +Brignan de Brignan. + + +THE END. + + + + +Works of Robert Neilson Stephens + + + An Enemy to the King + + The Continental Dragoon + + The Road to Paris + + A Gentleman Player + + Philip Winwood + + Captain Ravenshaw + + The Mystery of Murray Davenport + + The Bright Face of Danger + + + + +L. C. Page and Company + + +The Mystery of Murray Davenport. + +By ROBERT NEILSON STEPHENS, author of "An Enemy to the King," "Philip +Winwood," etc. + +In his latest novel, Mr. Stephens has made a radical departure from the +themes of his previous successes. Turning from past days and distant +scenes, he has taken up American life of to-day as his new field, +therein proving himself equally capable. Original in its conception, +striking in its psychologic interest, and with a most perplexing love +problem, "The Mystery of Murray Davenport" is the most vital and +absorbing of all Mr. Stephens's novels, and will add not a little to his +reputation. + +"This is easily the best thing that Mr. Stephens has yet done. Those +familiar with his other novels can best judge the measure of this +praise, which is generous."--_Buffalo News._ + +"Mr. Stephens won a host of friends through his earlier volumes, but we +think he will do still better work in his new field if the present +volume is a criterion."--_N. Y. Com. Advertiser._ + + +The Daughter of the Dawn. + +By R. HODDER. + + +This is a powerful story of adventure and mystery, its scene New +Zealand. In sustained interest and novel plot, it recalls Rider +Haggard's "King Solomon's Mines," and "She" but the reader will find an +added interest due to the apparent reality with which the author +succeeds in investing the sensational incidents of his plot. + + +The Spoilsmen. + +By ELLIOTT FLOWER, author of "Policeman Flynn," etc. + +This is a story of municipal politics, depicting conditions common to +practically all large cities. The political methods employed, however, +are in most instances taken from the actual experiences of men who have +served the public in some capacity or other, and the stories told of +some of the characters are literally true. The love interest centres +around a girl of high ideals, who inspires a wealthy young man to enter +the local campaign. + +"The best one may hear of 'The Spoilsmen' will be none too good. As a +wide-awake, snappy, brilliant political story it has few equals, its +title-page being stamped with that elusive mark, 'success.' One should +not miss a word of a book like this at a time like this and in a world +of politics like this."--_Boston Transcript._ + +"...It ought to do good. The world of municipal politics is put before +the reader in a striking and truthful manner; and the sources of evil +that afflict the government of our cities are laid bare in a manner that +should arrest the attention of every honest man who wishes to purge and +cleanse our local governments. It illustrates, too, very forcibly, how +difficult a work it is to accomplish such municipal reform, and how +useless it is to attempt it without united and persistent effort on the +part of those who should be most interested."--_Grover Cleveland._ + + +A Daughter of Thespis. + +By JOHN D. BARRY, author of "The Intriguers," "Mademoiselle Blanche," +etc. + +The author's experiences as a dramatic critic have enabled him to write +with authority on the ever fascinating theme of stage life. From "the +front," in the wings, and on the boards--from all these varying points +of view, is told this latest story of player folk--an absorbing tale. + +"This story of the experiences of Evelyn Johnson, actress, may be +praised just because it is so true and so wholly free from melodrama and +the claptrap which we have come to think inseparable from any narrative +which has to do with theatrical experiences."--_Professor Harry Thurston +Peck, of Columbia University._ + + +Prince Hagen. + +By UPTON SINCLAIR, author of "King Midas," etc. + +In this book, Mr. Sinclair has written a satire of the first order--one +worthy to be compared with Swift's biting tirades against the follies +and abuses of mankind. + +The scheme of the book is as delightful as it is original--Prince Hagen, +son of that Hagen who killed Siegfried, grandson of Alberich, King of +the Nibelungs, comes to this earth from Nibelheim, for a completion of +his education, and it is the effect of our modern morality on a +brilliant and unscrupulous mind which forms the basis of Mr. Sinclair's +story. Prince Hagen's first exploits are at school; then in the thick of +New York's corrupt politics as a boss. Later, after he has inherited the +untold wealth of the Nibelungs, he tastes the society life of the +metropolis. + +As a story simply, the book is thoroughly entertaining, with a climax of +surprising power; but, as a satire, it will live. + + +Earth's Enigmas. + +By CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS, author of "The Kindred of the Wild," "The +Heart of the Ancient Wood," etc. + +"It will rank high among collections of short stories.... His prose art, +too, has reached a high degree of perfection.... In 'Earth's Enigmas' is +a wider range of subject than in the 'Kindred of the Wild.'"--_Review +from advance sheets of the illustrated edition by Tiffany Blake in the +Chicago Evening Post._ + +"Throughout the volume runs that subtle questioning of the cruel, +predatory side of nature which suggests the general title of the book. +In certain cases it is the picture of savage nature ravening for +food--for death to preserve life; in others it is the secret symbolism +of woods and waters prophesying of evils and misadventures to come. All +this does not mean, however, that Mr. Roberts is either pessimistic or +morbid--it is nature in his books after all, wholesome in her cruel +moods as in her tender."--_The New York Independent._ + + +The Silent Maid. + +By FREDERIC W. PANGBORN. + + +A dainty and delicate legend of the brave days of old, of sprites and +pixies, of trolls and gnomes, of ruthless barons and noble knights. "The +Silent Maid" herself, with her strange bewitchment and wondrous song, is +equalled only by Undine in charm and mystery. The tale is told in that +quaint diction which chronicles "The Forest Lovers," and in which Mr. +Pangborn, although a new and hitherto undiscovered writer, is no less an +artist than Mr. Hewlett. + + +The Golden Kingdom. + +By ANDREW BALFOUR, author of "Vengeance is Mine," "To Arms!" etc. + + +This is a story of adventure on land and sea, beginning in England, and +ending in South Africa, in the last days of the seventeenth century. The +scheme of the tale at once puts the reader in mind of Stevenson's +"Treasure Island," and with that augury of a good story, he at once +continues from the mysterious advent of Corkran the Coxswain into the +quiet English village, through scenes of riot, slave-trading, shipwreck, +and savages to the end of all in the "Golden Kingdom" with its strange +denizens. The character of Jacob the Blacksmith, big of body and bigger +of heart, ever ready in time of peril, will alone hold his attention +with a strong grip. + + +The Promotion of the Admiral. + +By MORLEY ROBERTS, author of "The Colossus," "The Fugitives," "Sons of +Empire," etc. + + +We consider ourselves fortunate in being able to announce this latest +novel by Mr. Morley Roberts, who has such a wide circle of readers and +admirers. This volume contains half a dozen stories of sea life,--fresh, +racy, and bracing,--some humorous, some thrilling, all laid in +America,--a new field for Mr. Roberts,--and introduces a unique +creation, "Shanghai Smith," of "'Frisco," kidnapper of seamen, whose +calling and adventures have already interested and amused all readers of +_The Philadelphia Saturday Evening Post_. + + +The Schemers. + +A TALE OF MODERN LIFE. + +By EDWARD F. HARKINS, author of "Little Pilgrimages Among the Men Who +Have Written Famous Books," etc. + + +A story of a new and real phase of social life in Boston, skilfully and +daringly handled. There is plenty of life and color abounding, and a +diversity of characters--shop-girls, society belles, men about town, +city politicians, and others. The various schemers and their schemes +will be followed with interest--and there will be some discerning +readers who may claim to recognize in certain points of the story +certain recent happenings in the shopping and the society circles of the +Hub. + + +The Captain's Wife. + +By W. CLARK RUSSELL, author of "The Wreck of the Grosvenor," "The Mate +of the Good Ship York,"' etc. + + +The customary epithets applied to nautical fiction are quite +incommensurate with the excellence of Mr. Clark Russell's narrative +powers, and these are thoroughly at their best in "The Captain's Wife." +"The Captain's Wife" is the story of a voyage, and its romantic interest +hinges on the stratagem of the captain's newly wedded wife in order to +accompany him on his expedition for the salvage of a valuable wreck. The +plot thickens so gradually that a less competent novelist would be in +danger of letting the reader's attention slip. But the climax of +Benson's conspiracy to remove the captain, and carry off the wife, to +whom his lawless passion aspires, is invested with the keenest +excitement. + + +The Story of the Foss River Ranch. + +By RIDGWELL CULLOM. + + +The scene of this story is laid in Canada, not in one of the great +cities, but in that undeveloped section of the great Northwest where +to-day scenes are being enacted similar to those enacted fifty years ago +during the settlement of the great American West. The story is intense, +with a sustained and well-developed plot, and will thus appeal to the +reading public. + + +The Interference of Patricia. + +By LILIAN BELL, author of "Hope Loring," "Abroad with the Jimmies," etc. +With a frontispiece from drawing by Frank T. Merrill. + + +This story adds not a little to the author's reputation as a teller of +clever tales. It is of the social life of to-day in Denver--that city of +gold and ozone--and deals of that burg's peculiarities with a keen and +flashing satire. The character of the heroine, Patricia, will hold the +reader by its power and brilliancy. Impetuous, capricious, and wayward, +with a dominating personality and spirit, she is at first a careless +girl, then develops into a loyal and loving woman, whose interference +saves the honor of both her father and lover. The love theme is in the +author's best vein, the character sketches of the magnates of Denver are +amusing and trenchant, and the episodes of the plot are convincing, +sincere, and impressive. + + +A Book Of Girls. + +By LILIAN BELL, author of "Hope Loring," "Abroad with the Jimmies," etc. +With a frontispiece. + + +It is quite universally recognized that Lilian Bell has done for the +American girl in fiction what Gibson has done for her in art--that +Lilian Bell has crystallized into a distinct type all the peculiar +qualities that have made the American girl unique among the women of the +world. Consequently, a book with a Bell heroine is sure of a hearty +welcome. What, therefore, can be said of this book, which contains no +less than four types of witching and buoyant femininity? There are four +stories of power and dash in this volume: "The Last Straw," "The +Surrender of Lapwing," "The Penance of Hedwig," and "Garret Owen's +Little Countess." Each one of these tells a tale full of verve and +thrill, each one has a heroine of fibre and spirit. + + +Count Zarka. + +By SIR WILLIAM MAGNAY, author of "The Red Chancellor." + + +"The Red Chancellor" was considered by critics, as well as by the +reading public, one of the most dramatic novels of last year. In his new +book, Sir William Magnay has continued in the field in which he has been +so successful. "Count Zarka" is a strong, quick-moving romance of +adventure and political intrigue, the scene being laid in a fictitious +kingdom of central Europe, under which thin disguise may be recognized +one of the Balkan states. The story in its action and complications +reminds one strongly of "The Prisoner of Zenda," while the man[oe]uvring +of Russia for the control in the East strongly suggests the contemporary +history of European politics. The character of the mysterious Count +Zarka, hero and villain, is strongly developed, and one new in fiction. + + +The Golden Dwarf. + +By R. NORMAN SILVER, author of "A Daughter of Mystery," etc. + + +Mr. Silver needs no introduction to the American public. His "A Daughter +of Mystery" was one of the most realistic stories of modern London life +that has recently appeared. "The Golden Dwarf" is such another story, +intense and almost sensational. Mr. Silver reveals the mysterious and +gruesome beneath the commonplace in an absorbing manner. The "Golden +Dwarf" himself, his strange German physician, and the secret of the +Wyresdale Tower are characters and happenings which will hold the reader +from cover to cover. + + +Alain Tanger's Wife. + +By J. H. YOXALL, author of "The Rommany Stone," etc. + + +A spirited story of political intrigue in France. The various +dissensions of the parties claiming political supremacy, and "the wheels +within wheels" that move them to their schemes are caustically and +trenchantly revealed. A well known figure in the military history of +France plays a prominent part in the plot--but the central figure is +that of the American heroine--loyal, intense, piquant, and compelling. + + +The Diary of a Year. + +PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF A WOMAN OF THE WORLD. Edited by Mrs. CHARLES H. +E. BROOKFIELD. + + +The writer of this absorbing study of emotions and events is gifted with +charming imagination and an elegant style. The book abounds in brilliant +wit, amiable philosophy, and interesting characterizations. The "woman +of the world" reveals herself as a fascinating, if somewhat reckless, +creature, who justly holds the sympathies of the reader. + + +The Red Triangle. Being some further chronicles of Martin Hewitt, +investigator. + +By ARTHUR MORRISON, author of "The Hole in the Wall," "Tales of Mean +Streets," etc. + + +This is a genuine, straightforward detective story of the kind that +keeps the reader on the _qui vive_. Martin Hewitt, investigator, might +well have studied his methods from Sherlock Holmes, so searching and +successful are they. His adventures take him at times to the slums of +London, amid scenes which recall Mr. Morrison's already noted "The Hole +in the Wall." As a combination of criminal and character studies, this +book is very successful. + + +COMMONWEALTH SERIES No. 7. + +The Philadelphians: + +AS SEEN BY A NEW YORK WOMAN. + +By KATHARINE BINGHAM. (Pseud.) + + +A bright and breezy tale of a charming New York woman, whose wedded lot +is twice cast in Philadelphia. The family of her first husband committed +the unpardonable sin of living north of Market Street; that of her +second husband resided south of that line of demarcation. She is thus +enabled to speak whereof she knows concerning the conventions, and draws +the characteristics of life in the Quaker city, as well as the foibles +of the "first families" with a keen and caustic, though not unkindly, +pen. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Bright Face of Danger, by +Robert Neilson Stephens and H. C. Edwards + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30417 *** diff --git a/30417-h/30417-h.htm b/30417-h/30417-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e36d96b --- /dev/null +++ b/30417-h/30417-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7981 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Bright Face Of Danger, by Robert Neilson Stephens. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +--> + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30417 ***</div> + +<div class="figleft"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<div class="figright"> +<img src="images/title.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<h1>The Bright Face of Danger</h1> + +<h3><i>Being an Account of Some Adventures of Henri de Launay, Son of the +Sieur de la Tournoire.<br /> Freely Translated into Modern English</i></h3> + +<h2>By Robert Neilson Stephens</h2> + +<h3><i>Author of</i> "An Enemy to the King," "Philip Winwood,"<br /> "The Mystery of +Murray Davenport," etc.</h3> + +<h3><i>Illustrated by</i> H. C. Edwards</h3> + + +<h3><i>Boston</i><br /> +L. C. Page & Company<br /> +<i>Mdcccciiii</i></h3> + +<h3><i>Copyright, 1904</i><br /> +By <span class="smcap">L. C. Page & Company</span></h3> + +<h3><i>Entered at Stationers' Hall, London</i><br /> +<i>All rights reserved</i></h3> + +<h3>Published April, 1904<br /> +Colonial Press</h3> + +<h3>Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.<br /> +Boston. Mass., U.S.A.</h3> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>THE BRIGHT FACE OF DANGER is, in a distant way, a sequel to "An +Enemy to the King," but may be read alone, without any reference to +that tale. The title is a phrase of Robert Louis Stevenson's.</i></p> + +<p><i>THE AUTHOR.</i></p></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus1" id="illus1"></a> +<img src="images/illus1.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"'I GIVE YOU ONE CHANCE FOR YOUR LIFE,' SAID I QUICKLY."</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + + + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> +<a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I. <span class="smcap">Monsieur Henri de Launay Sets Out on a Journey</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II. <span class="smcap">A Young Man Who Went Singing</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III. <span class="smcap">Where the Lady Was</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV. <span class="smcap">Who the Lady Was</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V. <span class="smcap">The Chateau de Lavardin</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI. <span class="smcap">What the Peril Was</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII. <span class="smcap">Strange Disappearances</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII. <span class="smcap">Mathilde</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX. <span class="smcap">The Winding Stairs</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X. <span class="smcap">More Than Mere Pity</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI. <span class="smcap">The Rat-Hole and the Water-Jug</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII. <span class="smcap">The Rope Ladder</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII. <span class="smcap">The Parting</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV. <span class="smcap">In the Forest</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV. <span class="smcap">The Tower of Morlon</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI. <span class="smcap">The Mercy of Captain Ferragant</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII. <span class="smcap">The Sword of La Tournoire</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII. <span class="smcap">The Moustaches of Brignan de Brignan</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX. <span class="smcap">Afterwards</span></a><br /><br /> +<a href="#Works_of_Robert_Neilson_Stephens">Works of Robert Neilson Stephens</a><br /> +<a href="#L_C_Page_and_Company">L. C. Page and Company</a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + +<p><a href="#illus1">"'<span class="smcap">I give you one chance for your life,' said I quickly</span>"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#illus2">"'<span class="smcap">And now she will wait for him in vain!</span>'"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#illus3">"<span class="smcap">We were interrupted by a low cry</span>"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#illus4">"<span class="smcap">'The wretches!' said the tortured Count, staggering to his feet</span>"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#illus5">"<span class="smcap">I leaped over the bed, and upon the man who was trying to strangle the +Countess</span>"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#illus6">"<span class="smcap">My father's thrusts became now so quick and continuous</span>"</a></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE BRIGHT FACE OF DANGER</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h3>MONSIEUR HENRI DE LAUNAY SETS OUT ON A JOURNEY</h3> + + +<p>If, on the first Tuesday in June, in the year 1608, anybody had asked me +on what business I was riding towards Paris, and if I had answered, "To +cut off the moustaches of a gentleman I have never seen, that I may toss +them at the feet of a lady who has taunted me with that gentleman's +superiorities,"—if I had made this reply, I should have been taken for +the most foolish person on horseback in France that day. Yet the answer +would have been true, though I accounted myself one of the wisest young +gentlemen you might find in Anjou or any other province.</p> + +<p>I was, of a certainty, studious, and a lover of books. My father, the +Sieur de la Tournoire, being a daring soldier, had so often put himself +to perils inimical to my mother's peace of mind, that she had guided my +inclinations in the peaceful direction of the library, hoping not to +suffer for the son such alarms as she had undergone for the husband. I +had grown up, therefore, a musing, bookish youth, rather shy and +solitary in my habits: and this despite the care taken of my education +in swordsmanship, riding, hunting, and other manly accomplishments, both +by my father and by his old follower, Blaise Tripault. I acquired skill +enough to satisfy these well-qualified instructors, but yet a volume of +Plutarch or a book of poems was more to me than sword or dagger, horse, +hound, or falcon. I was used to lonely walks and brookside meditations +in the woods and meads of our estate of La Tournoire, in Anjou; and it +came about that with my head full of verses I must needs think upon some +lady with whom to fancy myself in love.</p> + +<p>Contiguity determined my choice. The next estate to ours, separated from +it by a stream flowing into the Loir, had come into the possession of a +rich family of bourgeois origin whom heaven had blessed (or burdened, as +some would think) with a pretty daughter. Mlle. Celeste was a small, +graceful, active creature, with a clear and well-coloured skin, and +quick-glancing black eyes which gave me a pleasant inward stir the first +time they rested on me. In my first acquaintance with this young lady, +the black eyes seemed to enlarge and soften when they fell on me: she +regarded me with what I took to be interest and approval: her face shone +with friendliness, and her voice was kind. In this way I was led on.</p> + +<p>When she saw how far she had drawn me, her manner changed: she became +whimsical, never the same for five minutes: sometimes indifferent, +sometimes disdainful, sometimes gay at my expense. This treatment +touched my pride, and would have driven me off, but that still, when in +her presence, I felt in some degree the charm of the black eyes, the +well-chiselled face, the graceful swift motions, and what else I know +not. When I was away from her, this charm declined: nevertheless I chose +to keep her in my mind as just such a capricious object of adoration as +poets are accustomed to lament and praise in the same verses.</p> + +<p>But indeed I was never for many days out of reach of her attractive +powers, for several of her own favourite haunts were on her side of the +brook by which I was in the habit of strolling or reclining for some +part of almost every fair day. Attended by a fat and sleepy old +waiting-woman, she was often to be seen running along the grassy bank +with a greyhound that followed her everywhere. For this animal she +showed a constancy of affection that made her changefulness to me the +more heart-sickening.</p> + +<p>Thus, half in love, half in disgust, I sat moodily on my side of the +stream one sunny afternoon, watching her on the other side. She had been +running a race with the dog, and had just settled down on the green +bank, with the hound sitting on his haunches beside her. Both dog and +girl were panting, and her face was still merry with the fun of the +scamper. Her old attendant had probably been left dozing in some other +part of the wood. Here now was an opportunity for me to put in a sweet +speech or two. But as I looked at her and thought of her treatment of +me, my pride rebelled, and I suppose my face for the moment wore a +cloud. My expression, whatever it was, caught the quick eyes of Mlle. +Celeste. Being in merriment herself, she was the readier to make scorn +of my sulky countenance. She pealed out a derisive laugh.</p> + +<p>"Oh, the sour face! Is that what comes of your eternal reading?"</p> + +<p>I had in my hand a volume of Plutarch in the French of Amyot. Her +ridicule of reading annoyed me.</p> + +<p>"No, Mademoiselle, it isn't from books that one draws sourness. I find +more sweetness in them than in—most things." I was looking straight at +her as I said this.</p> + +<p>She pretended to laugh again, but turned quite red.</p> + +<p>"Nay, forgive me," I said, instantly softened. "Ah, Celeste, you know +too well what is the sweetest of all books for my reading." By my look +and sigh, she knew I meant her face. But she chose to be contemptuous.</p> + +<p>"Poh! What should a pale scholar know of such books? I tell you, +Monsieur de Launay, you will never be a man till you leave your books +and see a little of the world."</p> + +<p>Though she called me truly enough a pale scholar, I was scarlet for a +moment.</p> + +<p>"And what do you know of the world, then?" I retorted. "Or of men +either?"</p> + +<p>"I am only a girl. But as to men, I have met one or two. There is your +father, for example. And that brave and handsome Brignan de Brignan."</p> + +<p>Whether I loved or not, I was certainly capable of jealousy; and +jealousy of the fiercest arose at the name of Brignan de Brignan. I had +never seen him; but she had mentioned him to me before, too many times +indeed for me to hear his name now with composure. He was a young +gentleman of the King's Guard, of whom, by reason of a distant +relationship, her family had seen much during a residence of several +months in Paris.</p> + +<p>"Brignan de Brignan," I echoed. "Yes, I dare say he has looked more into +the faces of women than into books."</p> + +<p>"And more into the face of danger than into either. That's what has made +him the man he is."</p> + +<p>"Tut!" I cried, waving my Plutarch; "there's more manly action in this +book than a thousand Brignans could perform in all their lives—more +danger encountered."</p> + +<p>"An old woman might read it for all that. Would it make her manly? Well, +Monsieur Henri, if you choose to encounter danger only in books, there's +nobody to complain. But you shouldn't show malice toward those who +prefer to meet it in the wars or on the road."</p> + +<p>"Malice? Not I. What is Brignan de Brignan to me? You may say what you +please—this Plutarch is as good a school of heroism as any officer of +the King's Guard ever went to."</p> + +<p>"Yet the officers of the King's Guard aren't pale, moping fellows like +you lovers of books. Ah, Monsieur Henri, if you mean to be a monk, well +and good. But otherwise, do you know what would change your complexion +for the better? A lively brush with real dangers on the field, or in +Paris, or anywhere away from your home and your father's protection. +That would bring colour into your cheeks."</p> + +<p>"You may let my cheeks alone, Mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>"You may be sure I will do that."</p> + +<p>"I'm quite satisfied with my complexion, and I wouldn't exchange it for +that of Brignan de Brignan. I dare say his face is red enough."</p> + +<p>"Yes, a most manly colour. And his broad shoulders—and powerful +arms—and fine bold eyes—ah! there <i>is</i> the picture of a hero—and his +superb moustaches—"</p> + +<p>Now I was at the time not strong in respect of moustaches. I was +extremely sensitive upon the point. My frame, though not above middle +size, was yet capable of robust development, my paleness was not beyond +remedy, and my eyes were of a pleasant blue, so there was little to +rankle in what she said of my rival's face and body; but as to the +moustaches——!</p> + +<p>I scrambled to my feet.</p> + +<p>"I tell you what it is, Mademoiselle. Just to show what your Brignan +really amounts to, and whether I mean to be a monk, and what a reader of +books can do when he likes, I have made up my mind to go to Paris; and +there I will find your Brignan, and show my scorn of such an illiterate +bravo, and cut off his famous moustaches, and bring them back to you for +proof! So adieu, Mademoiselle, for this is the last you will see of me +till what I have said is done!"</p> + +<p>The thing had come into my head in one hot moment, indeed it formed +itself as I spoke it; and so I, the quiet and studious, stood committed +to an act which the most harebrained brawler in Anjou would have deemed +childish folly. Truly, I did lack knowledge of the world.</p> + +<p>I turned from Mlle. Celeste's look of incredulous wonderment, and went +off through the woods, with swifter strides than I usually took, to our +chateau. Of course I dared not tell my parents my reason for wishing to +go to Paris. It was enough, to my mother at least, that I should desire +to go on any account. The best way in which I could put my resolution to +them, which I did that very afternoon, on the terrace where I found them +sitting, was thus:</p> + +<p>"I have been thinking how little I know of the world. It is true, you +have taken me to Paris; but I was only a lad then, and what I saw was +with a lad's eyes and under your guidance. I am now twenty-two, and many +a man at that age has begun to make his own career. To be worthy of my +years, of my breeding, of my name, I ought to know something of life +from my own experience. So I have resolved, with your permission, my +dear father and mother, to go to Paris and see what I may see."</p> + +<p>My mother had turned pale as soon as she saw the drift of my speech, and +was for putting every plea in the way. But my father, though he looked +serious, seemed not displeased. We talked upon the matter—as to how +long I should wish to stay in Paris, whether I had thought of aiming at +any particular career there, and of such things. I said I had formed no +plans nor hopes: these might or might not come after I had arrived in +Paris and looked about me. But see something of the world I must, if +only that I might not be at disadvantage in conversation afterward. It +was a thing I could afford, for on the attainment of my majority my +father had made over to me the income of a portion of our estate, a +small enough revenue indeed, but one that looked great in my eyes. He +could not now offer any reasonable objection to my project, and he plead +my cause with my mother, without whose consent I should not have had the +heart to go. Indeed, knowing what her dread had always been, and seeing +the anxious love in her eyes as she now regarded me, I almost wavered. +But of course she was won over, as women are, though what tears her +acquiescence caused her afterwards when she was alone I did not like to +think upon.</p> + +<p>She comforted herself presently with the thought that our faithful +Blaise Tripault should attend me, but here again I had to oppose her. +For Blaise, by reason of his years and the service he had done my father +in the old wars, was of a dictatorial way with all of us, and I knew he +would rob me of all responsibility and freedom, so that I should be +again a lad under the thumb of an elder and should profit nothing in +self-reliance and mastership. Besides this reason, which I urged upon my +parents, I had my own reason, which I did not urge, namely, that I +should never dare let Blaise know the special purpose of my visit to +Paris. He would laugh me out of countenance, and yet ten to one he would +in the end deprive me of the credit of keeping my promise, by taking its +performance upon himself. That I might be my own master, therefore, I +chose as my valet the most tractable fellow at my disposal, one Nicolas, +a lank, knock-kneed jack of about my own age, who had hitherto made +himself of the least possible use, with the best possible intentions, +between the dining-hall and the kitchen. And yet he was clever enough +among horses, or anywhere outdoors. My mother, though she wondered at my +choice and trembled to think how fragile a reed I should have to rely +on, was yet not sorry, I fancy, at the prospect of ridding her house of +poor blundering Nicolas in a kind and creditable way. I had reason to +think Nicolas better suited for this new service, and, by insisting, I +gained my point in this also.</p> + +<p>I made haste about my equipment, and in a few days we set forth, myself +on a good young chestnut gelding, Nicolas on a strong black mule, which +carried also our baggage. Before I mounted, and while my mother, doing +her best to keep back her tears, was adding some last article of comfort +to the contents of my great leather bag, my father led me into the +window recess of the hall, and after speaking of the letters of +introduction with which he had provided me, said in his soldierly, +straightforward manner:</p> + +<p>"I know you have gathered wisdom from books, and it will serve you well, +because it will make you take better heed of experience and see more +meaning in it. But then it will require the experience to give your +book-learned wisdom its full force. Often at first, in the face of +emergency, when the call is for action, your wisdom will fly from your +mind; but this will not be the case after you have seen life for +yourself. Experience will teach you the full and living meaning of much +that you now know but as written truth. It may teach you also some +things you have never read, nor even dreamt of. What you have learned by +study, and what you must learn by practice only, leave no use for any +good counsel I might give you now. Only one thing I can't help saying, +though you know it already and will doubtless see it proved again and +again. There are many deceivers in the world. Don't trust the outward +look of things or people. Be cautious; yet conceal your caution under +courtesy, for nothing is more boorish than open suspicion. And remember, +too, not to think bad, either, from appearances alone. You may do +injustice that way. Hold your opinion till the matter is tested. When +appearances are fair, be wary without showing it; when they are bad, +regard your safety but don't condemn. In other words, always mingle +caution with urbanity, even with kindness.—I need not speak of the name +you have to keep unsullied. Honour is a thing about which you require no +admonitions. You know that it consists as much in not giving affronts as +in not enduring them, though many who talk loudest about it seem to +think otherwise. Indeed this is an age in which honour is prated of most +by those who practise it least. Well, my son, there are a thousand +things I would say, but that is all I shall say. Good-bye—may the good +God bless and protect you."</p> + +<p>I had much to do to speak firmly and to perceive what I was about, in +taking my leave, for my mother could no longer refrain from sobbing as +she embraced me at the last, and my young brother and sister, catching +the infection, began to whimper and to rub their eyes with their fists. +Knowing so much more of my wild purpose than they did, and realizing +that I might never return alive, I was the more tried in my resolution +not to disgrace with tears the virgin rapier and dagger at my side. But +finally I got somehow upon my horse, whose head Blaise Tripault was +holding, and threw my last kisses to the family on the steps. I then +managed voice enough to say "Good-bye, Blaise," to the old soldier.</p> + +<p>"Nay, I will walk as far as to the village," said he, in his gruff, +autocratic way. "I have a word or two for you at parting."</p> + +<p>Throwing back a somewhat pallid smile to my people, tearfully waving +their adieus, I turned my horse out of the court-yard, followed by +Nicolas on the mule, and soon emerging from the avenue, was upon the +road. Blaise Tripault strode after me. When I came in front of the inn +at the end of the village, he called out to stop. I did so, and Blaise, +coming up to my stirrup, handed me a folded paper and thus addressed me:</p> + +<p>"Of course your father has given you all the advice you need. Nobody is +more competent than he to instruct a young man setting out to see the +world. His young days were the days of hard knocks, as everybody knows. +But as I was thinking of your journey, there came into my head an old +tale a monk told me once—for, like your father, I was never too much of +a Huguenot to get what good I might out of any priest or monk the Lord +chose to send my way. It's a tale that has to do with travelling, and +that's what made me think of it—a tale about three maxims that some +wise person once gave a Roman emperor who was going on a journey. I half +forget the tale itself, for it isn't much of a tale; but the maxims I +remembered, because I had had experience enough to realize their value. +I've written them out for you there: and if you get them by heart, and +never lose sight of them, you'll perhaps save yourself much repentance."</p> + +<p>He then bade me good-bye, and the last I saw of him he was entering the +inn to drink to my good fortune.</p> + +<p>When I had got clear of the village, I unfolded Blaise's paper and read +the maxims:</p> + +<p>1. "<i>Never undertake a thing unless you can see your way to the end of +it.</i>"</p> + +<p>2. "<i>Never sleep in a house where the master is old and the wife +young.</i>"</p> + +<p>3. "<i>Never leave a highway for a byway.</i>"</p> + +<p>Very good counsel, thought I, and worth bearing in mind. It was true, my +very journey itself was, as to its foolhardy purpose, a violation of the +first maxim. But that could not be helped now, and I could at least heed +that piece of advice, as well as the others, in the details of my +mission. When I thought of that mission, I felt both foolish and +heavy-hearted. I had not the faintest idea yet of how I should go about +encountering Brignan de Brignan and getting into a quarrel with him, and +I had great misgivings as to how I should be able to conduct myself in +that quarrel, and as to its outcome. Certainly no man ever took the road +on a more incredible, frivolous quest. Of all the people travelling my +way, that June morning, T was probably one of the most thoughtful and +judiciously-minded; yet of every one but myself the business in being +abroad was sober and reasonable, while mine was utterly ridiculous and +silly. And the girl whose banter had driven me to it—perhaps she had +attached no seriousness whatever to my petulant vow and had even now +forgotten it. With these reflections were mingled the pangs of parting +from my home and family; and for a time I was downcast and sad.</p> + +<p>But the day was fine. Presently my thoughts, which at first had flown +back to all I had left behind, began to concern themselves with the +scenes around me; then they flew ahead to the place whither I was +bound:—this is usually the way on journeys. At least, thought I, I +should see life, and perchance meet dangers, and so far be the gainer. +And who knows but I might even come with credit out of the affair with +Monsieur de Brignan?—it is a world of strange turnings, and the upshot +is always more or less different from what has been predicted. So I took +heart, and already I began to feel I was not exactly the pale scholar of +yesterday. It was something to be my own master, on horseback and +well-armed, my eyes ranging the wide and open country, green and brown +in the sunlight, dotted here and there with trees, sometimes traversed +by a stream, and often backed by woods of darker green, which seemed to +hold secrets dangerous and luring.</p> + +<p>Riding gave me a great appetite, and I was fortunate in coming upon an +inn at Durtal whose table was worthy of my capacity. After dinner, we +took the road again and proceeded at an easy pace toward La Flèche.</p> + +<p>Toward the middle of the afternoon a vague uneasiness stole over me, as +if some tragic circumstance lay waiting on the path—to me +unknown—ahead.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>A YOUNG MAN WHO WENT SINGING</h3> + + +<p>It was about five o'clock when we rode into La Flèche, and the feeling +of ill foreboding still possessed me. Partly considering this, and +partly as it was improbable I should find the best accommodations +anywhere else short of Le Mans, I decided to put up here for the night. +As I rode into the central square of the town, I saw an inn there: it +had a prosperous and honest look, so I said, "This is the place for my +money," and made for it. The square was empty and silent when I entered +it, but just as I reached the archway of the inn, I heard a voice +singing, whereupon I looked around and saw a young man riding into the +square from another street than that I had come from. He was followed by +a servant on horseback, and was bound for the same inn. It seems strange +in the telling, that a gentleman should ride singing into a public +square, as if he were a mountebank or street-singer, yet it appeared +quite natural as this young fellow did it. The song was something about +brave soldiers and the smiles of ladies—just such a gay song as so +handsome a young cavalier ought to sing. I looked at him a moment, then +rode on into the inn-yard. This little act, done in all thoughtlessness, +and with perfect right, was the cause of momentous things in my life. If +I had waited to greet that young gentleman at the archway, I believe my +history would have gone very differently. As it was, I am convinced that +my carelessly dropping him from my regard, as if he were a person of no +interest, was the beginning of what grew between us. For, as he rode in +while I was dismounting, he threw at me a look of resentment for which +there was nothing to account but the possible wound to his vanity. His +countenance, symmetrically and somewhat boldly formed, showed great +self-esteem and a fondness for attention. His singing had suddenly +stopped. I could feel his anger, which was probably the greater for +having no real cause, I having been under no obligation to notice him or +offer him precedence.</p> + +<p>He called loudly for an ostler, and, when one came out of the stables, +he coolly gave his orders without waiting for me, though I had been +first in the yard. He bade his own servant see their horses well fed, +and then made for the inn-door, casting a scornful glance at me, and +resuming his song in a lower voice. It was now my turn to be angry, and +justly, but I kept silence. I knew not exactly how to take this sort of +demonstration: whether it was a usual thing among travellers and to be +paid back only in kind, or whether for the sake of my reputation I ought +to treat it as a serious affront. It is, of course, childish to take +offence at a trifle. In my ignorance of what the world expects of a man +upon receipt of hostile and disparaging looks, I could only act as one +always must who cannot make up his mind—do nothing. After seeing my +horse and mule attended to, I bade Nicolas follow with the baggage, and +entered the inn.</p> + +<p>The landlord was talking with my young singing gentleman, but made to +approach me as I came in. The young gentleman, however, speaking in a +peremptory manner, detained him with questions about the roads, the town +of La Flèche, and such matters. As I advanced, the young gentleman got +between me and the host, and continued his talk. I waited awkwardly +enough for the landlord's attention, and began to feel hot within. A +wench now placed on a table some wine that the young man had ordered, +and the landlord finally got rid of him by directing his attention to +it. As he went to sit down, he bestowed on me the faintest smile of +ridicule. I was too busy to think much of it at the moment, in ordering +a room for the night and sending Nicolas thither with my bag. I then +called for supper and sat down as far as possible from the other guest. +He and I were the only occupants of the room, but from the kitchen +adjoining came the noise of a number of the commonalty at food and +drink.</p> + +<p>"Always politeness," thought I, when my wine had come, and so, in spite +of his rudeness and his own neglect of the courtesy, as I raised my +glass I said to him, "Your health, Monsieur."</p> + +<p>He turned red at the reproach implied in my observance, then very +reluctantly lifted his own glass and said, "And yours," in a surly, +grudging manner.</p> + +<p>"It has been a pleasant day," I went on, resolved not to be churlish, at +all hazards.</p> + +<p>"Do you think so?" he replied contemptuously, and then turned to look +out of the window, and hummed the tune he had been singing before.</p> + +<p>I thought if such were the companions my journey was to throw me in +with, it would be a sorry time till I got home again. But my young +gentleman, for all his temporary sullenness, was really of a talkative +nature, as these vain young fellows are apt to be, and when he had +warmed himself a little with wine even his dislike of me could not +restrain his tongue any longer.</p> + +<p>"You are staying here to-night, then?" he suddenly asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and you?"</p> + +<p>"I shall ride on after supper. There will be starlight."</p> + +<p>"I have used my horse enough to-day."</p> + +<p>"And I mine, for that matter. But there are times when horses can't be +considered."</p> + +<p>"You are travelling on important business, then?"</p> + +<p>"On business of haste. I must put ground behind me."</p> + +<p>"I drink to the success of your business, then."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, I am always successful. There is another toast, that should +have first place. The ladies, Monsieur."</p> + +<p>"With all my heart."</p> + +<p>"That's a toast I never permit myself to defer. Mon dieu, I owe them +favours enough!"</p> + +<p>"You are fortunate," said I.</p> + +<p>"I don't complain. And you?"</p> + +<p>"Even if I were fortunate in that respect, I shouldn't boast of it."</p> + +<p>He coloured; but laughed shortly, and said, "It's not boasting to tell +the mere truth."</p> + +<p>"I was thinking of myself, not of you, Monsieur." This was true enough.</p> + +<p>"I can readily believe you've had no great luck that way," he said +spitefully, pretending to take stock of my looks. I knew his remark was +sheer malice, for my appearance was good enough—well-figured and +slender, with a pleasant, thoughtful face.</p> + +<p>"Let us talk of something else," I answered coldly, though I was far +from cool in reality.</p> + +<p>"Certainly. What do you think of the last conspiracy?"</p> + +<p>"That it was very rash and utterly without reason. We have the best king +France ever knew."</p> + +<p>"Yes, long live Henri IV.! They say there are still some of the +malcontents to be gathered in. Have you heard of any fresh arrests?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing within two weeks. I don't understand how these affairs can +possibly arise, after that of Biron. Men must be complete fools."</p> + +<p>"Oh, there are always malcontents who still count on Spain, and some +think even the League may be revived."</p> + +<p>"But why should they not be contented? I can't imagine any grievances."</p> + +<p>"Faith, my child, where have you been hiding yourself? Don't you know +the talk? Do you suppose everybody is pleased with this Dutch alliance? +And the way in which the King's old Huguenot comrades are again to be +seen around him?"</p> + +<p>"And why not? Through everything, the King's heart has always been with +the protestants."</p> + +<p>"Oho! So you are one of the psalm-singers, then?" His insulting tone and +jeering smile were intolerable.</p> + +<p>"I have sung no psalms here, at least," I replied trembling with anger; +"or anything else, to annoy the ears of my neighbours."</p> + +<p>"So you don't like my singing?" he cried, turning red again.</p> + +<p>I had truly rather admired it, but I said, "I have heard better."</p> + +<p>"Indeed? But how should you know. For your education in taste, I may +tell you that good judges have thought well of my singing."</p> + +<p>"Ay, brag of it, as you do of your success with the ladies."</p> + +<p>He stared at me in amazement, then cried. "Death of my life, young +fellow!—" But at that instant his servant brought in his supper, and he +went no further. My own meal was before me a minute later, and we both +devoted ourselves in angry silence to our food. I was still full of +resentment at his obtrusive scorn of myself and my religious party, and +I could see that he felt himself mightily outraged at my retorts. From +the rapid, heedless way in which he ate, I fancied his mind was busy +with all sorts of revenge upon me.</p> + +<p>When he had finished, at the same time as I did, and our servants had +gone to eat their supper in the kitchen, he leaned against the wall, and +said, "I am going to sing, Monsieur, whether it pleases you or not." And +forthwith he began to do so.</p> + +<p>My answer was to put on a look of pain, and walk hastily from the room, +as if the torture to my ears were too great for endurance.</p> + +<p>I was not half-way across the court-yard before I heard him at my heels +though not singing.</p> + +<p>"My friend," said he, as I turned around, "I don't know where you were +bred, but you should know this: it's not good manners to break from a +gentleman's company so unceremoniously."</p> + +<p>It occurred to me that because I had taken his insults from the first, +through not knowing how much a sensible man should bear, he thought he +might safely hector me to the full satisfaction of his hurt vanity.</p> + +<p>"So you do know something of good manners, after all?" I replied. "I +congratulate you."</p> + +<p>His eyes flashed new wrath, but before he knew how to answer, and while +we were glaring at each other like two cocks, though at some distance +apart, out came Nicolas from the kitchen to ask if I wished my cloak +brought down, which he had taken up with the bag. In his rustic +innocence he stepped between my nagging gentleman and myself. The +gentleman at this ran forward in an access of rage, and threw Nicolas +aside, saying, "Out of the way, knave! You're as great a clown as your +master."</p> + +<p>"Hands off! How dare you?" I cried, clapping my hand to my sword.</p> + +<p>"If you come a step nearer, I'll kill you!" he replied, grasping his own +hilt.</p> + +<p>I sent a swift glance around. There was no witness but Nicolas. Yet a +scuffle would draw people in ten seconds. Even at that moment, with my +heart beating madly, I thought of the edict against duelling: so I said, +as calmly as I could:</p> + +<p>"If you dare draw that sword, I see trees beyond that gateway—a garden +or something. It will be quieter there." I pointed to a narrow exit at +the rear of the yard.</p> + +<p>"I will show you whom you're dealing with, my lad!" he said, +breathlessly, and made at once for the gate. I followed. I could see now +that, though a bully, he was not a coward, and the discovery fell upon +me with a sense of how grave a matter I had been drawn into.</p> + +<p>At the gate I looked around, and saw Nicolas following, his eyes wide +with alarm. "Stay where you are, and not a word to anybody," I ordered, +and closed the gate after me. My adversary led the way across a +neglected garden, and out through a postern in a large wall, to where +there was a thicker growth of trees. We passed among these to a little +open space near the river, from which it was partly veiled by a tangled +mass of bushes. The unworn state of the green sward showed that this was +a spot little visited by the townspeople.</p> + +<p>"We have stumbled on the right place," said the young gentleman, with an +assumption of coolness. "It's a pity the thing can't be done properly, +with seconds and all that." And he proceeded to take off his doublet.</p> + +<p>I was sobered by the time spent in walking to the place, so I said, +"It's not too late. Monsieur, if you are willing to apologize."</p> + +<p>"I apologize! Death of my life! You pile insult on insult."</p> + +<p>"I assure you, it is you who have been the insulter."</p> + +<p>He laughed in a way that revived my heat, and asked, "Swords alone, or +swords and daggers?"</p> + +<p>"As you please." By this time I had cast off my own doublet.</p> + +<p>"Rapiers and daggers, then," he said, and flung away his scabbard and +sheath. I saw the flash of my own weapons a moment later, and ere I had +time for a second thought on the seriousness of this event—my first +fight in earnest—he was keeping me busy to parry his point and watch +his dagger at the same time. I was half-surprised at my own success in +turning away his blade, but after I had guarded myself from three or +four thrusts, I took to mind that offence is the best defence, and +ventured a lunge, which he stopped with his dagger only in the nick of +time to save his breast. His look of being almost caught gave me +encouragement, making me realize I had received good enough lessons from +my father and Blaise Tripault to enable me to practise with confidence. +So I pushed the attack, but never lost control of myself nor became +reckless. It was an inspiriting revelation to me to find that I could +indeed use my head intelligently, and command my motions so well, at a +time of such excitement. We grew hot, perspired, breathed fast and loud, +kept our muscles tense, and held each other with glittering eyes as we +moved about on firm but springy feet. We must have fought very swiftly, +for the ring of the steel sounded afterward in my ears as if it had been +almost continuous. How long we kept it up, I do not exactly know. We +came to panting more deeply, and I felt a little tired, and once or +twice a mist was before my eyes. At last he gave me a great start by +running his point through my shirt sleeve above the elbow. Feeling +myself so nearly stung, I instinctively made a long swift thrust: up +went his dagger, but too late: my blade passed clear of it, sank into +his left breast. He gave a sharp little cry, and fell, and the hole I +had made in his shirt was quickly circled with crimson.</p> + +<p>"Victory!" thought I, with an exultant sense of prowess. I had fleshed +my sword and brought low my man! But, as I looked down at him and he lay +perfectly still, another feeling arose. I knelt and felt for his heart: +my new fear was realized. With bitter regret I gazed at him. All the +anger and scorn had gone out of his face: it was now merely the handsome +boyish face of a youth like myself, expressing only a manly pride and +the pain and surprise of his last moment. It was horrible to think that +I had stopped this life for ever, reduced this energy and beauty to +eternal silence and nothingness. A weakness overwhelmed me, a profound +pity and self-reproach.</p> + +<p>I heard a low ejaculation behind me, which made me start. But I saw it +was only Nicolas, who, in spite of my orders, had stolen after me, in +terror of what might happen.</p> + +<p>"Oh, heaven!" he groaned, as he stared with pale face and scared eyes at +the prostrate form. "You have killed him, Monsieur Henri."</p> + +<p>"Yes. It is a great pity. After all, he merely thought a little too well +of himself and was a little inconsiderate of other people's feelings. +But who is not so, more or less? Poor young man!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, but think of us, Monsieur Henri—think of yourself, I mean! We had +better be going, or you will have to answer for this."</p> + +<p>"That is so. We must settle with the landlord and get away from this +town before this gentleman is missed."</p> + +<p>"And alas! you arranged to stay all night. The landlord will be sure to +smell something. Come, I beg of you: there's not a moment to lose. Think +what there's to do—the bag to fetch down, the horse and mule to saddle. +We shall be lucky if the officers aren't after us before we're out of +the town."</p> + +<p>"You are right.—Poor young man! At least I will cover his face with his +doublet before I go."</p> + +<p>"I'll do that, Monsieur. You put on your own doublet, and save time."</p> + +<p>I did so. As Nicolas ran past me with the slain man's doublet, something +fell out of the pocket of it. This proved to be a folded piece of paper, +like a letter, but with no name outside. I picked it up. Fancying it +might give a clue to my victim's identity, and as the seal was broken, I +opened it. There was some writing, in the hand of a woman,—two lines +only:</p> + +<p>"<i>For heaven's sake and pity's, come to me at once. My life and honour +depend on you alone.</i>"</p> + +<p>As the missive was without address, so was it without signature. It must +have been delivered by some confidential messenger who knew the +recipient, and yet by whom a verbal message was either not thought +expedient, or required to be confirmed by the written appeal. The +recipient must be familiar with the sender's handwriting. The note +looked fresh and clean, and therefore must have been very lately +received.</p> + +<p>"Come, Monsieur Henri," called Nicolas, breaking in upon my whirling +thoughts. "Why do you wait?—What is the matter? What do you see on that +paper?"</p> + +<p>"And this," I answered, though of course Nicolas could not understand +me, "is the business he was on! This is why he had need to put ground +behind him. He was going on to-night. He must have stopped only to +refresh his horses."</p> + +<p>"Yes, certainly, but what of that? What has his business to do with us?"</p> + +<p>"I have prevented his carrying it out. My God!—a woman's life and +honour—a woman who relies on him—and now she will wait for him in +vain! At this very moment she may be counting the hours till he should +arrive!—What have I done?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus2" id="illus2"></a> +<img src="images/illus2.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"'AND NOW SHE WILL WAIT FOR HIM IN VAIN!'"</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>"You, Monsieur? It's not your fault if he chose to get into a quarrel +with you. He must have valued his business highly if he dared risk it in +a fight."</p> + +<p>"Of course he thought from my manner that he could have his own way with +me. There would be no loss of time—his horses needed rest, for greater +speed in the long run. He knew what he was about—there's no doubt of +his haste. 'Come to me at once. My life and honour depend on you alone.' +And while she waits and trusts, I step in and cut off her only +hope!—not this poor young fellow's life alone, but hers also, Nicolas! +It mustn't be so—not if I can any way help it. I see now what I am +called upon to do."</p> + +<p>"What is that, Monsieur Henri?" asked Nicolas despairingly.</p> + +<p>"To carry out this gentleman's task which I have interrupted—to go in +his stead to the assistance of this lady, whoever and wherever she may +be!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3>WHERE THE LADY WAS</h3> + + +<p>"Very well, Monsieur," said Nicolas after a pause, in a tone which meant +anything but very well. "But first you will have enough to do to save +yourself. This gentleman will soon be missed. He was in haste to go on, +as you say. His servant will be wondering why he delays, and the +landlord will become curious about his bill."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I must think a moment. Where is this poor lady? Who is the +gentleman? There may be another letter—a clue of some sort."</p> + +<p>I hurriedly examined the young man's pockets, but found nothing written. +His purse I thought best to leave where it was: to whom, indeed, could I +entrust it with any chance of its being more honestly dealt with than by +those who should find the body? The innkeeper and the gentleman's +servant, with their claims for payment, would see to that. But I kept +the lady's note.</p> + +<p>"Well," said I, "I must have a talk with the valet. I must find out +where this gentleman was going, for that must be the place where the +lady is."</p> + +<p>"But the valet doesn't know where the gentleman was going. He was +talking to me about that in the stables."</p> + +<p>"That's very strange—not to know his master's destination."</p> + +<p>"He knows very little of his master's affairs: he was hired only +yesterday, at Sablé. The gentleman was staying at the inn there. +Yesterday he engaged this man, and said he was going to travel on at the +end of the week. But this morning he suddenly made up his mind to start +at once, and came off without saying where he was bound for. Until I +told him, the man didn't know that the name of this town was La Flèche."</p> + +<p>"And what else did he tell you?"</p> + +<p>"That's all. He was only grumbling about having to come away so +unexpectedly, and being so in the dark about his master's plans."</p> + +<p>"You're sure he didn't say what caused his master to change his mind and +start at once?"</p> + +<p>"He said nothing more, Monsieur."</p> + +<p>"Did he mention his master's name?"</p> + +<p>"No, we didn't get as far as that. It was only his desire to complain to +somebody, that made him speak to me; and I was too busy with the horses +to say much in reply."</p> + +<p>"Then you didn't give my name—to him or any one else here?"</p> + +<p>"Not to a soul, Monsieur."</p> + +<p>"That's fortunate. Well, we must be attending to our business. I will +pay the landlord, and give him some reason for riding on. While you are +getting the animals ready, I will try to sound this valet a little +deeper. Come."</p> + +<p>Without another look behind, we hastened back to the inn.</p> + +<p>"It's a fine evening," said I to the landlord, "and that gentleman I saw +here awhile ago has given me the notion of riding on while the air is +cool." I spoke as steadily as I could, and I suppose if the landlord +detected any want of ease he put it down to the embarrassment of +announcing a change of mind. In any case, he was not slow to compute the +reckoning, nor I to pay it. Then, after seeing my bag and cloak brought +down, I went in search of the young gentleman's valet. I found him in +the kitchen, half way through a bottle of wine.</p> + +<p>"Your master has not yet ridden on, then?" said I, dropping carelessly +on the bench opposite him.</p> + +<p>"No, Monsieur," he replied unsuspectingly. He seemed more like a country +groom than a gentleman's body servant.</p> + +<p>"I have decided to go on this evening, in imitation of him," I +continued.</p> + +<p>"Then your servant had better come back and finish his supper. It's +getting cold yonder. Just as he was going to begin eating, he thought of +something, and went out, and hasn't returned yet."</p> + +<p>It was, alas, true. In my excitement I had forgotten all about Nicolas's +supper, which he had left in order to see if I wanted my cloak for the +cool of the evening.</p> + +<p>"I sent him on an errand," I replied. "He shall sup doubly well later. +As I was about to say, your master—by the way, if I knew his name I +could mention him properly: we have so far neglected to give each other +our names."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur de Merri is my master's name, as far as I know it. I have been +with him only since yesterday." He spoke in a somewhat disgruntled way, +as if not too well satisfied with his new place.</p> + +<p>"So I have heard." I said. "And it seems you were hustled off rather +sooner than you expected, this morning."</p> + +<p>"My master did change his mind suddenly. Yesterday he said he wouldn't +leave Sablé till the end of the week."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but of course when he received the letter—" I stopped, as if not +thinking worth while to finish, and idly scrutinized the floor.</p> + +<p>"What letter, Monsieur?" inquired the fellow, after a moment.</p> + +<p>"Why, the letter that made him change his mind. Didn't you see the +messenger?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, and did that man bring a letter, then?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly. How secretive your master is. The man from—from—where +<i>did</i> he come from, anyhow?"</p> + +<p>"A man came to see my master at Sablé early this morning—the only man I +know of. I heard him say that he had ridden all the way from Montoire, +following my master from one town to another."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is the man, certainly," said I in as careless a manner as +possible, fearful lest my face should betray the interest of this +revelation to me. "Well, I think I will go and see what has become of my +servant. When you have finished that bottle, drink another to me." I +tossed him a silver piece, and sauntered out. Nicolas was fastening the +saddle girth of my horse in the yard. An ostler was attending to the +mule. The innkeeper was looking on. I asked him about the different +roads leading from the place, and by the time I had got this information +all was ready. We mounted, I replied to the landlord's adieu, threw a +coin to the ostler, and clattered out under the archway. From the square +I turned South to cross the Loir, passing not far from the place where, +surrounded by trees and bushes, the body of my adversary must still be +lying.</p> + +<p>"Poor young man!" said I. "Once we get safe off, I hope they will find +him soon."</p> + +<p>"They will soon be seeking him, at least," replied Nicolas. "Before you +came out of the kitchen, the landlord was wondering to the ostler what +had become of him."</p> + +<p>"As he was to ride on at once, his absence will appear strange. Well, +I'm not sorry to think he will be found before he lies long exposed. The +authorities, no doubt, will take all measures to find out who he is and +notify his people."</p> + +<p>"And to find the person who left him in that state," said Nicolas +fearfully.</p> + +<p>"Well, I have a start, and shall travel as fast as my horse can safely +carry me."</p> + +<p>"But wherever you go, Monsieur, the law will in time come up with you."</p> + +<p>"I have thought of that; and now listen. This is what you are to do. We +shall come very soon to a meeting of roads. You will there turn to the +right—"</p> + +<p>"And leave you, Monsieur Henri?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is necessary for my safety."</p> + +<p>"And you will go on to Paris alone?"</p> + +<p>"I am not going to Paris immediately—at least, I shall not go by way of +Le Mans and Chartres, as I had intended. We have already turned our +backs on that road, when we left the square in front of the inn. I shall +go by way of Vendome." Montoire—where the letter had evidently come +from and where therefore the lady probably was—lay on the road to +Vendome.</p> + +<p>"And I, Monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"You are to go back to La Tournoire, but not by the way we have come +over. This road to the right that you will soon take leads first to +Jarzé, and there you will find a road to the West which will bring you +to our own highway not two leagues from home." I repeated these +directions as we left La Flèche behind us, till they seemed firmly +lodged in Nicolas's head. "I don't know how long it will take you to do +this journey," I added, "nor even when you may expect to reach Jarzé. +You mustn't overdo either the mule or yourself. Stop at the first +country inn and get something to eat, before it is too late at night to +be served. Go on to-night as far as you think wise. It may be best, or +necessary, to sleep in some field or wood, not too near the road, as I +shall probably do toward the end of the night."</p> + +<p>"I shall certainly do that, Monsieur. It is a fine night."</p> + +<p>"When you get to La Tournoire, you are to tell my father that I am going +on without an attendant, but by way of Vendome. You needn't say anything +about what you suppose my purpose to be: you needn't repeat what you +heard me say about that lady, or the letter: you aren't to mention the +lady or the letter at all."</p> + +<p>"I understand, Monsieur Henri; but I do hope you will keep out of other +people's troubles. You have enough of your own now, over this unlucky +duel."</p> + +<p>"It's to get me out of that trouble that you are going home. Give my +father a full account of the duel. Tell him the gentleman insulted my +religion as well as myself; that he tried my patience beyond endurance. +My father will understand, I trust. And say that I shall leave it to him +to solicit my pardon of the King. I know he would prefer I should place +the matter all in his hands."</p> + +<p>"Yes, to be sure, Monsieur Henri. And of course to a gentleman who has +served him so well, the King can't refuse anything."</p> + +<p>"He is scarce likely to refuse him that favour, at any rate. My father +will know just what to do; just whom to make his petition through, and +all that. Perhaps he will go to Paris himself about it; or he may send +Blaise Tripault with letters to some of his old friends who are near the +King. But he will do whatever is best. The pardon will doubtless be +obtained before I reach Paris, as I am going by this indirect way and +may stop for awhile in the neighbourhood of Vendome. But I shall +eventually turn up at the inn we were bound for, in the Rue St. Honoré."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Monsieur, and may God land you there safe and sound!"</p> + +<p>"Tell my father that the only name by which I know my antagonist is +Monsieur de Merri. Perhaps he belonged to Montoire; at any rate, he was +acquainted there."</p> + +<p>We soon reached the place where the roads diverge. I took over my +travelling bag and cloak from Nicolas's mule to my horse, hastily +repeated my directions in summary form, supplied him with money, and +showed him his road, he very disconsolate at parting, and myself little +less so. As night was falling, and so much uncertainty lay over my +immediate future, the trial of our spirits was the greater. However, as +soon as he was moving on his way, I turned my horse forward on mine, and +tried, by admiring the stars, to soften the sense of my loneliness and +danger.</p> + +<p>I began to forget the peril of my present situation by thinking of the +affair I had undertaken. In the first place, how to find the lady? All I +knew of her was that she was probably at Montoire, that she had been +associated in some way with Monsieur de Merri, and that she now thought +herself in imminent danger. And I had in my possession a piece of her +handwriting, which, however, I should have to use very cautiously if at +all. There was, indeed, little to start with toward the task of finding +her out, but, as Montoire could not be a large place, I need not +despair. I would first, I thought, inquire about Monsieur de Merri and +what ladies were of his acquaintance. If Monsieur de Merri himself was +of Montoire, and had people living there, my presence would be a great +risk. I could not know how soon the news of his death might reach them +after my own arrival at the place, nor how close a description would be +given of his slayer—for there was little doubt that the innkeeper would +infer the true state of affairs on the discovery of the body. The dead +man's people would be clamorous for justice and the officers would be on +their mettle. Even if I might otherwise tarry in Montoire unsuspected, +my insinuating myself into the acquaintance of one of Monsieur de +Merri's friends would in itself be a suspicious move. The more I +considered the whole affair, the more foolish seemed my chosen course. +And yet I could not bear to think of that unknown lady in such great +fear, with perhaps none to aid her: though, indeed, since none but +Monsieur de Merri could save her honour and life, how could I do so? +Well, I could offer my services, at least; perhaps she meant she had +nobody else on whose willingness she could count; perhaps she really +could make as good use of me as of him. But on what pretext could I +offer myself? How could I account to her for my knowledge of her affairs +and for Monsieur de Merri's inability to come to her? To present myself +as his slayer would not very well recommend my services to her. Would +she, indeed, on any account accept my services? And even if she did, was +I clever enough to get her out of the situation she was in, whatever +that might be? Truly the whole case was a cloud. Well, I must take each +particular by itself as I came to it; be guided by circumstance, and +proceed with delicacy. The first thing to do was to find out who the +lady was; and even that could not be done till I got to Montoire, which, +being near Vendome, must be at least two days' journey from La Flèche.</p> + +<p>As I thought how much in the dark was the business I had taken on +myself, my mind suddenly reverted to the first of the monk's three +maxims that Blaise Tripault had given me, which now lay folded in my +pocket, close to the lady's note.</p> + +<p>"<i>Never undertake a thing unless you can see your way to the end of +it.</i>"</p> + +<p>I could not help smiling to think how soon chance had led me to violate +this excellent rule. But I am not likely to be confronted again by such +circumstances, thought I, and this affair once seen through, I shall be +careful; while the other maxims, being more particular, are easier to +obey, and obey them I certainly will.</p> + +<p>I rode on till near midnight, and then, for the sake of the horse as +well as the rider, I turned out of the road at a little stream, +unsaddled among some poplar trees, and lay down, with my travelling bag +for pillow, and my cloak for bed and blanket. The horse, left to his +will, chose to lie near me; and so, in well-earned sleep, we passed the +rest of the night.</p> + +<p>The next morning, when we were on the road again, I decided to exchange +talk with as many travellers as possible who were going my way, in the +hope of falling in with one who knew Montoire. At a distance from the +place, I might more safely be inquisitive about Monsieur de Merri and +his friendships than at Montoire itself. The news of what had happened +at La Flèche would not have come along the road any sooner than I had +done, except by somebody who had travelled by night and had passed me +while I slept. In the unlikelihood of there being such a person, I could +speak of Monsieur de Merri without much danger of suspicion. But even if +there was such a person, and the news had got ahead, nobody could be +confident in suspecting me. I was not the only young gentleman of my +appearance, mounted on a horse like mine, to be met on the roads that +day. And besides, I was no longer attended by a servant on a mule, as I +had been at La Flèche. So I determined to act with all freedom, accost +whom I chose, and speak boldly.</p> + +<p>Passing early through Le Lude, I breakfasted at last, and talked with +various travellers, both on the road and at the inn there, but none of +them showed any such interest, when I casually introduced the name of +Montoire, as a dweller of that place must have betrayed. To bring in the +name of the town was easy enough. As thus:—in the neighbourhood of Le +Lude one had only to mention the fine chateau there, and after admiring +it, to add: "They say there is one very like it, at some other town +along this river—I forget which—is it Montoire?—or La Chartre?—I +have never travelled this road before." A man of Montoire, or who knew +that town well, would have answered with certainty, and have added +something to show his acquaintance there. The chateau of Le Lude served +me in this manner all the way to Vaas, where there is a great church, +which answered my purpose thence to Chateau du Loir. But though I threw +out my conversational bait to dozens of people, of all conditions, not +one bite did I get anywhere on the road between Le Lude and La Chartre.</p> + +<p>It was evening when I arrived at La Chartre, and I was now thirteen +leagues from La Flèche, thanks to having journeyed half the previous +night. Anybody having left La Flèche that morning would be satisfied +with a day's journey of nine leagues to Chateau du Loir, the last +convenient stopping-place before La Chartre. So I decided to stay at La +Chartre for the night, and give my horse the rest he needed.</p> + +<p>At the inn I talked to everybody I could lay hold of, dragging in the +name of Montoire, all to no purpose, until I began to think the +inhabitants of Montoire must be the most stay-at-home people, and their +town the most unvisited town, in the world. In this manner, in the +kitchen after supper, I asked a fat bourgeois whether the better place +for me to break my next day's journey for dinner would be Troo or +Montoire.</p> + +<p>"I know no better than you," he replied with a shrug.</p> + +<p>"Pardon, Monsieur; I think you will find the better inn at Montoire," +put in a voice behind my shoulder. I turned and saw, seated on a stool +with his back to the wall, a bright-looking, well-made young fellow who +might, from his dress, have been a lawyer's clerk, or the son of a +tradesman, but with rather a more out-of-doors appearance than is +usually acquired in an office or shop.</p> + +<p>"Ah," said I, "you know those towns, then?"</p> + +<p>"I live at Montoire," said he, interestedly, as if glad to get into +conversation. "There is a fine public square there, you will see."</p> + +<p>"But it is rather a long ride before dinner, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Only about five leagues. I shall ride there for dinner to-morrow, at +all events."</p> + +<p>"You are returning home, then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Monsieur."</p> + +<p>"Have you been far away?"</p> + +<p>"That is as one may think," he replied after a moment's hesitation, +during which he seemed to decide it best to evade the question. His +travels were none of my business, and I cared not how secretive he might +be upon them. But to teach him a lesson in openness, I said:</p> + +<p>"I have travelled from Le Lude to-day."</p> + +<p>"And I too," said he, with his former interest.</p> + +<p>"I didn't see you at the inn there," said I. "You must have left early +this morning."</p> + +<p>"Yes, after arriving late last night. Yesterday evening I was at La +Flèche."</p> + +<p>I gave an inward start; but said quietly enough: "Ah?—and yet you talk +as if you had slept at Le Lude."</p> + +<p>"So I did. I travelled part of the night."</p> + +<p>"And arrived at Le Lude before midnight, perhaps?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a little before. Luckily, the innkeeper happened to be up, and he +let me in."</p> + +<p>I breathed more freely. This young man must have left La Flèche before I +had: he could know nothing of the man slain.</p> + +<p>"There is a good inn at La Flèche," I said, to continue the talk.</p> + +<p>"No doubt. I stopped only a short while, at a small house at the edge of +the town. I was in some haste."</p> + +<p>"Then you will be starting early to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Monsieur."</p> + +<p>I resolved to be watchful and start at the same time. But lest he should +have other company, or something should interfere, I decided not to lose +the present opportunity. So I began forthwith:</p> + +<p>"I have met a gentleman who comes, I think, from Montoire, or at least +is acquainted there,—a Monsieur de Merri, of about my own age."</p> + +<p>The young fellow looked at me with a sudden sharpness of curiosity, +which took me back: but I did not change countenance, and he had +repossessed himself by the time he replied:</p> + +<p>"There is a Monsieur de Merri, who is about as old as you, but he does +not live at Montoire. He sometimes comes there."</p> + +<p>Here was comfort, at least: I should not find myself among the dead +man's relations, seeking vengeance.</p> + +<p>"No doubt he has friends there?" I ventured.</p> + +<p>"No doubt, Monsieur," answered the young man, merely out of politeness, +and looking vague.</p> + +<p>"Probably he visits people in the neighbourhood," I tried again.</p> + +<p>"I cannot say," was the reply, still more absently given.</p> + +<p>"Or lives at the inn," I pursued.</p> + +<p>"It may be so." The young fellow was now glancing about the kitchen, as +if to rid himself of this talk.</p> + +<p>"Or perhaps he dwells in private lodgings when he is at Montoire," I +went on resolutely.</p> + +<p>"It might well be. There are private lodgings to be had there."</p> + +<p>"Do you know much of this Monsieur de Merri?" I asked pointblank, in +desperation.</p> + +<p>"I have seen him two or three times."</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"Where? At Montoire, of course." The speaker, in surprise, scrutinized +me again with the keen look he had shown before.</p> + +<p>It was plain, from his manner, that he chose to be close-mouthed on the +subject of Monsieur de Merri. He was one of those people who generally +have a desire to talk of themselves and all their affairs, but who can +be suddenly very secretive on some particular matter or occasion. I saw +that I must give him up, for that time at least. Perhaps on the road +next day his unwillingness to be communicative about Monsieur de Merri +would have passed away. But meanwhile, what was the cause of that +unwillingness? Did he know, after all, what had occurred at La Flèche, +and had he begun to suspect me? I inwardly cursed his reticence, and +went soon to bed, that I might rise the earlier.</p> + +<p>But early as I rose, my young friend had beaten me. The ostler to whom I +described him said he had ridden off half-an-hour ago. In no very +amiable mood, I rode after him. Not till the forenoon was half spent, +did I catch up. He saluted me politely, and gave me his views of the +weather, but was not otherwise talkative. We rode together pleasantly +enough, but there was no more of that openness in him which would have +made me feel safe in resuming the subject of Monsieur de Merri. As we +approached noon and our destination, I asked him about the different +families of consequence living thereabouts, and he mentioned several +names and circumstances, but told me nothing from which I could infer +the possibility of danger to any of their ladies. It was toward mid-day +when we rode into the great square of Montoire, and found ourselves +before the inn of the Three Kings.</p> + +<p>I turned to take leave of my travelling companion, thinking that as he +belonged to this town he would go on to his own house.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to stop here for a glass of wine and to leave my horse +awhile," he said, noticing my movement.</p> + +<p>He followed me through the archway. A stout innkeeper welcomed me, saw +me dismount, and then turned to my young fellow-traveller, speaking with +good-natured familiarity:</p> + +<p>"Ah, my child, so you are back safe after your journey. Let us see, how +long have you been away? Since Sunday morning—four days and a half. I +might almost guess where you've been, from the time—for all the secret +you make of it."</p> + +<p>The young man laughed perfunctorily, and led his horse to the stable +after the ostler who had taken mine.</p> + +<p>"A pleasant young man," said I, staying with the landlord. "He lives in +this town, he tells me."</p> + +<p>"Yes, an excellent youth. He owns his bit of land, and though his father +was a miller, his children may come near being gentlemen."</p> + +<p>I went into the kitchen, and ordered dinner. Presently my young man +entered and had his wine, which he poured down quickly. He then bowed to +me, and went away, like one who wishes to lose no time.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the whole probability of the case appeared to me in a flash. +Regardless of the wine before me, and of the dinner I had ordered, I +rose and followed him.</p> + +<p>I had put together his reticence about Monsieur de Merri, his having +been away from Montoire just four and a half days, the direction of his +journey, and his errand to be done immediately on returning. He must be +the messenger who had carried the lady's note to Sablé, and he was now +going to report its delivery and, perhaps, Monsieur de Merri's answer. +If I could dog his steps unseen, he would lead me to the lady who was in +danger.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3>WHO THE LADY WAS</h3> + + +<p>By the time I was in the court-yard, the messenger was walking out of +the archway. By the time I was at the outer end of the archway, he was +well on his way toward one of the streets that go from the square. I +waited in the shelter of the archway till he had got into that +street—or road, I should say, for it soon leaves the town, proceeding +straight in a South-easterly direction for about half a league through +the country. As soon as he was out of the square, I was after him, +stepping so lightly I could scarce hear my own footfalls. He walked +rapidly, and as one who does not think of turning to look behind, a fact +which I observed with comfort.</p> + +<p>If he was indeed the messenger, he must have been content with a very +short rest for his horse after delivering the note to Monsieur de +Merri;—must have started from Sablé as soon as, or little later than, +Monsieur de Merri himself, to be in La Flèche on the same evening that +gentleman arrived there, and to be out of it again before I was, as he +must have been if he reached Le Lude by midnight. Perhaps he was passing +through La Flèche at the very time the duel was going on; but the sum of +all was, that he could not know Monsieur de Merri was killed, and this I +felt to be fortunate for me.</p> + +<p>Another thought which I had while following him along the straight white +road that day, was that if the lady could command the services of this +able young fellow to bear a message so far, why could she not use him +directly for the saving of her life and honour? Evidently there was a +reason why mere zeal and ability would not suffice. Perhaps the +necessary service was one in which only a gentleman could be accepted. +But I feared rather that there might be some circumstance to make +Monsieur de Merri the only possible instrument; and my heart fell at +this, thinking what I had done. But I hoped for the best, and did not +lose sight of the young man ahead of me.</p> + +<p>After we had walked about twenty minutes, the road crossed a bridge and +rose to the gates of a chateau which had at one corner a very high old +tower. In front of the chateau, the road turned off sharply to the left. +A few small houses constituted such a village as one often sees huddled +about the feet of great castles. A drawbridge, which I could see between +the gate towers, indicated that the chateau and its immediate grounds +were surrounded by a moat. The messenger did not approach the gates, nor +did he follow the road to its turning. He disappeared down a lane to the +right.</p> + +<p>When I got to the lane, he had already passed out of it at the other +end. I hastened through, and caught sight of him in the open fields that +lay along the side wall of the chateau. Near the outer edge of the moat, +grew tangled bushes, and I noticed that he kept close to these, as if to +be out of sight from the chateau. At a distance ahead, skirting the rear +of the chateau enclosure, stretched the green profile of what appeared +to be a deep forest. It was this which my unconscious guide was +approaching. I soon reached the bushes by the fosse, and used them for +my own concealment in following him. When he came to the edge of the +forest, at a place near a corner of the wall environing the chateau +grounds, what did he do but stop before the first tree—a fine oak—and +proceed to climb up it? I crouched among the bushes, and looked on.</p> + +<p>When he gained the boughs he worked his way out on one that extended +toward the moat. From that height he could see across the wall. He took +a slender pole that had been concealed among the branches, tied a +handkerchief thereto, and ran it out so that the bit of white could be +seen against the leaves.</p> + +<p>"Oho! a signal!" said I to myself.</p> + +<p>Keeping the handkerchief in its position, he waited. I know not just +what part of an hour went by. I listened to the birds and sometimes to +the soft sound of a gentle breeze among the tree tops of the forest.</p> + +<p>At last the handkerchief suddenly disappeared, and my man came quickly +down the tree. Watching the chateau beyond the walls, he had evidently +seen the person approach for whom he had hung out his signal. He now +stood waiting under the tree. My heart beat fast.</p> + +<p>I heard a creaking sound, and saw a little postern open in the wall, +near the tree. A girl appeared, ran nimbly across a plank that spanned +the moat, and into the arms of my young man.</p> + +<p>Could this, then, be the woman whose life and honour was in peril? No, +for though she had some beauty, I could see at a glance that she was a +dependent. Moreover, her face shone gaily at sight of the messenger, and +she gave herself to his embrace with smothered laughter. But a moment +later, she attended seriously, and with much concern, to what he had to +say, of which I could hear nothing. I then saw what the case was: this +was a serving-maid whom the endangered lady had taken into confidence, +and who had impressed her lover into service to carry that lady's +message. The lady herself must be in that chateau,—perhaps a prisoner. +My first step must be to find out who were the dwellers in the chateau, +and as much of their affairs as the world could tell me.</p> + +<p>The interview between the two young people was not long. It ended in +another embrace; the girl ran back over the plank, waved her hand at her +lover, and disappeared, the postern door closing after her. The young +man, with a last tender look at the door, hastened back as he had come. +I had to crawl suddenly under some low bushes to avoid his sight, making +a noise which caused him to stop within six feet of me. But I suppose he +ascribed the sound to some bird or animal, for he soon went on again.</p> + +<p>I lay still for some time, being under no further necessity of observing +him. I then walked back to the inn at Montoire at a leisurely pace. +Looking into the stables when I arrived, I saw that the messenger's +horse was gone. He lived, as I afterwards learned from the innkeeper, on +another road than that which led to the chateau. I suppose he had chosen +to go afoot to the chateau for the sake of easier concealment.</p> + +<p>The innkeeper was looking amazed and injured, at my having gone away and +let my dinner spoil.</p> + +<p>"I was taken with a sudden sickness," I explained. "There's nothing like +a walk in the fresh air when the stomach is qualmish. I am quite well +now. I'll have another dinner, just what I ordered before."</p> + +<p>As this meant my paying for two dinners, the landlord was soon restored +to good-nature. He was a cheerful, hearty soul, and as communicative as +I could desire.</p> + +<p>"That is a strong chateau about half a league yonder," I said to him, as +I sipped his excellent white wine.</p> + +<p>"Yes, the Chateau de Lavardin," he replied. "Strong?—yes, indeed."</p> + +<p>"Who lives there?"</p> + +<p>"The Count de Lavardin."</p> + +<p>"What sort of man is he?"</p> + +<p>"What sort? Well!—an old man, for one thing,—or growing old. Or maybe +you mean, what does he look like?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course."</p> + +<p>"A lean old grey wolf, I have heard him likened to—without offence, of +course. Yes, he is a thin old man, but of great strength, for all that."</p> + +<p>"Is he a good landlord?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, he is not my landlord," said the innkeeper, looking as if he would +have added "Thank God!" but for the sake of prudence. "No; his estate is +very large, but it extends in the other direction from Montoire."</p> + +<p>"Is he a pleasant neighbour, then?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I have no fault to find, for my part. One mustn't believe all the +grumblers. You may hear it said of him that his smile is more frightful +than another man's rage. But people will say things, you know, when they +think they have grievances."</p> + +<p>I fancied that the innkeeper shared this opinion which he attributed to +the grumblers, and took satisfaction in getting it expressed, though too +cautious to father it himself.</p> + +<p>"Then he has no great reputation for benevolence?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't say that. We must take what we hear, with a grain of salt. +He is certainly one of the great noblemen of this neighbourhood; +certainly a brave man. You will hear silly talk, of course: how that he +is a man whose laugh makes one think of dungeon chains and the rack. But +some people will give vent to their envy of the great."</p> + +<p>I shuddered inwardly, to think that my undertaking might bring me across +the path of a man as sinister and formidable as these bits of +description seemed to indicate.</p> + +<p>"What family has he?" I asked, trying the more to seem indifferent as I +came closer to the point.</p> + +<p>"No family. His children are all dead. Some foolish folk say he expected +too much of them, and tried to bring them up too severely, as if they +had been Spartans. But that is certainly a slander, for his eldest son +was killed in battle in the last civil war."</p> + +<p>"Then he has no daughter—or grand-daughter—or niece, perhaps?"</p> + +<p>"Not that I know of. Why do you ask, Monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"I thought I saw a lady at one of the windows," said I, inventing.</p> + +<p>"No doubt. It must have been his wife. She would be the only lady +there."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but this was surely a young lady," I said, clinging to my +preconceptions.</p> + +<p>"Certainly. His new wife is young. The children I spoke of were by his +first wife, poor woman! Oh, yes, his new wife is young—beautiful too, +they say."</p> + +<p>"And how do she and the Count agree together, being rather unevenly +matched?"</p> + +<p>"That is the question. Nobody sees much of their life. She never comes +out of the grounds of the chateau, except to church sometimes, when she +looks neither to the right nor to the left."</p> + +<p>"But who are her people, to have arranged her marriage with such a man?"</p> + +<p>"Oh. I believe she has no people. An orphan, whom he took out of a +convent. A gentlewoman, yes, but of obscure family."</p> + +<p>"I can't suppose she is very happy."</p> + +<p>"Who knows, Monsieur? They do say the old wolf—I mean the Count, +Monsieur,—we are sometimes playful in our talk here at Montoire,—they +say he is terribly jealous. They say that is why he keeps her so close. +Of course I know nothing of it.—You noticed, perhaps, that the moat was +full of water. The drawbridge is up half the time. One would suppose the +Civil wars were back again. To be sure, some people hint that there may +be another reason for all that: but I, for one, take no interest in +politics."</p> + +<p>"You mean the Count is thought to be one of those who are disaffected +toward the King?"</p> + +<p>"H-sh, Monsieur! We mustn't say such things. If idle whispers go around, +we can't help hearing them; but as for repeating them, or believing +them, that's another matter. I mention only what all can see—that the +Chateau de Lavardin is kept very much closed against company. The saying +is, that it's as hard to get into the Chateau de Lavardin nowadays as +into heaven. It's very certain, the Count has no welcome for strangers."</p> + +<p>And yet somehow I should have to get into the chateau, and obtain +private speech with the Countess,—for it must be she who had summoned +Monsieur de Merri.</p> + +<p>"In that case," said I, "they must have no visitors at all. But I recall +meeting a young gentleman the other day, who was acquainted with some +great family near Montoire, and, from certain things, I think it must be +this very Lavardin family. He was a Monsieur de Merri."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes. He has stayed at this inn. It was here the Count met him, one +day when the Count was returning from the hunt. The Count was thirsty +and stopped to drink, and the young gentleman began to talk with him +about the hounds. At that time half the Count's pack were suffering from +a strange disease, which threatened the others. When the Count described +the disease, Monsieur de Merri said he knew all about it and could cure +it. The Count took him to the chateau, where he stayed a fortnight, for +you see, however jealous the count may be of his wife, he cares more for +his hounds. Monsieur de Merri cured them, and that is how he got +admission to the Chateau de Lavardin. But besides him and the red +Captain, there aren't many who can boast of that privilege."</p> + +<p>"The red Captain? Who is he?"</p> + +<p>"Captain Ferragant. He is a friend of the Count's, who comes to the +chateau sometimes and makes long visits there. Where he comes from, of +what he does when he is elsewhere, I cannot tell. He is at the chateau +now, I believe."</p> + +<p>"Why did you call him the red Captain?"</p> + +<p>"The people have given him that name. He has a great red splash down one +side of his face. They say it was caused by a burn."</p> + +<p>"Received in the wars, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"No doubt. He has fought under many banners, it is said. Some declare he +still keeps his company together, always ready for the highest bidder; +but if that's true, I don't know where he keeps it, or how he does so +without a loss when not at the wars. It is true, he brings a suite of +sturdy fellows when he comes to Lavardin; but not enough to make what +you would call a company."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he has made his fortune and retired."</p> + +<p>"He's not an old man, Monsieur, though he is the friend of the Count. He +is at the prime of life, I should say. A tall, strong man. He would be +handsome but for the red stamp on his face. He has great influence over +the Count. They drink, hunt, and play together. In many ways they are +alike. The red Captain, too, has a smile that some people are afraid of, +and a laugh that is merciless, but they are broad and bold, if you can +understand what I mean,—not like the wily chuckle of the Count. He has +big, ferocious eyes, too; while the Count's are small and half-closed. +If people will fear those two men because of their looks, I can't for my +life say which is to be feared the more."</p> + +<p>"A pleasant pair for anybody to come in conflict with," said I, as +lightly as I could.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Monsieur, and seeing that strangers are so unwelcome there, you +will do well to pass by the Chateau de Lavardin without stopping to +exchange compliments." With a jocular smile, the innkeeper went about +his business, while I finished my dinner with a mind full of misgivings.</p> + +<p>I rose from the table, left the inn, and walked back, by the straight +road of half a league, to Lavardin, pondering on the problem before me. +It was a natural feeling that I might come by an inspiration more +probably in the presence of the chateau than away from it. There was a +little cabaret in the village, in full sight of the chateau gates, and +just far enough back from the road to give room for two small tables in +front. At one of these tables a man was already sitting, so I took +possession of the other and called for a bottle of wine. I then sat +there, slowly sipping, with my eyes on the chateau, hoping that by +contemplation thereof, or perhaps by some occurrence thereabout, I might +arrive at some idea of how to proceed. The drawbridge was not up, but +the gates were closed. From where I sat, I could see the gate towers, a +part of the outer wall, the turreted top of the chateau itself beyond +the court, and the great high tower, which looked very ancient and +sombre. But the more I looked, the more nearly impossible it appeared +that I could devise means of getting into the place and to the ear of +the Countess.</p> + +<p>As I was gazing at the chateau, I had a feeling that the man at the +other table was gazing at me. I glanced at him, but seemed to have been +mistaken. He was looking absently at the sky over my head. I now took +thought of what a very silent, motionless, undemonstrative man this was. +He was thin and oldish, and of moderate stature, with a narrow face, +pale eyes, and a very long nose. He was dressed in dull brown cloth, and +was in all respects—save his length of nose—one of those persons of +whom nobody ever takes much note. And he in turn did not seem to take +much note of the world. He looked at the sky, the house roofs and the +road, but his thoughts did not appear to concern themselves with these +things, or with anything, unless with the wine which he, like myself, +sipped in a leisurely manner.</p> + +<p>I dismissed him from my attention, and resumed my observation of the +chateau. But nobody came nor went, the gates did not open, nothing +happened to give me an idea. When I looked again at the other table, the +long-nosed man was gone. It was as if he had simply melted away.</p> + +<p>"Who was the man sitting there?" I asked the woman of the cabaret.</p> + +<p>"I don't know, Monsieur. He arrived here this morning. I never saw him +before to-day."</p> + +<p>In the evening I went back to Montoire, no nearer the solution of my +problem than before. Nor did a sleepless night help me any: I formed a +dozen fantastic schemes, only to reject every one of them as impossible. +What made all this worse, was the consideration that time might be of +the utmost importance in the affairs of the imperilled lady.</p> + +<p>The next morning I went to view the chateau from other points than the +village cabaret. This time I took the way the messenger had led +me,—turned down the lane, and traversed the fields by the moat. I sat +where I had hid the day before; staring at the postern and the wall, +over which birds flew now and then, indicating that there was a garden +on the other side. Receiving no suggestion here, I took up my station at +the tree from which the messenger had shown the handkerchief. I thought +of climbing it, to see over the wall. But just as I had formed my +resolution, I happened to glance over the fields and see a man strolling +idly along near the edge of the moat. As he came nearer, I recognized +him as the long-nosed gentleman in the brown doublet and hose.</p> + +<p>He saw me, and gazed, in his absent way, with a momentary curiosity. +Angry at being caught almost in the act of spying out the land, I +hastened off, passing between the rear wall and the forest which grew +nearly to the moat, and to which the tree itself belonged. In this way, +I soon left my long-nosed friend behind, and came out on the opposite +side of the chateau.</p> + +<p>Here I found a hillock, from the top of which I could see more of the +chateau proper and the other contents of the great walled enclosure. I +sat for some time regarding them, but the towers, turrets, roofs, +windows, and tree tops engendered no project in my mind.</p> + +<p>Suddenly I heard a low, discreet cough behind me, and, looking around, +saw the long-nosed man standing not six feet away.</p> + +<p>The sight gave me a start, for I had neither heard nor seen him +approach, though the way I had come was within my field of vision. He +must have made a wide circle through the woods.</p> + +<p>His mild eyes were upon me. "Good morning, Monsieur," said he, in a dry, +small voice.</p> + +<p>"Good morning," said I, rather ungraciously.</p> + +<p>He came close to me, and said, with a faint look of amusement:</p> + +<p>"May I tell you what is your chief thought at present, Monsieur?"</p> + +<p>After a moment, I deemed it best to answer, "If you wish."</p> + +<p>"It is that you would give half the money in your purse to get into that +chateau yonder."</p> + +<p>At first I could only look astonishment. Then I considered it wise to +take his remark as a joke; accordingly I laughed, and asked, "How do you +know that?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I have observed you yesterday and to-day. You have a very eloquent +countenance, Monsieur. Well, I don't blame you for wishing you could get +over those walls. I have been young myself: I know what an attraction a +pretty maid is."</p> + +<p>So he thought it was some love affair with a lady's maid that lay behind +the wish he had divined in me. I saw no reason to undeceive him; so I +merely said, "And what is all this to you, Monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"Hum!—that depends," he replied. "Tell me first, are you known to the +Count de Lavardin or his principal people—by sight, I mean?"</p> + +<p>"Neither by sight nor otherwise."</p> + +<p>"Good! Excellent!" said the man, looking really pleased. "I dared hope +as much, when the woman at the cabaret said you were a stranger. What is +all this to me? you ask. Well, as I have taken the liberty to read your +thoughts, I will be frank with you in regard to my own. I also have a +desire to see the inside of that chateau, and, as I haven't the honour +of the Count's acquaintance, and he is very suspicious of strangers, I +must resort to my devices. My reasons for wanting to be admitted yonder +are my own secret, but I assure you they won't conflict with yours. So, +as I have been studying you a little, and think you a gentleman to be +trusted, I propose that we shall help each other, as far as our object +is the same. In other words, Monsieur, if you will do as I say, I +believe we may both find ourselves freely admitted to the Chateau de +Lavardin before this day is over. Once inside, each shall go about his +purposes without any concern for the other. What do you think of it, +Monsieur?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<h3>THE CHATEAU DE LAVARDIN</h3> + + +<p>All that I could think was that, if genuine, the offer came as a most +unexpected piece of good luck, and that, if it was a trick, my +acceptance of it could not much add to the danger which attended my +purpose at best. In any case, this man already had me under scrutiny. +So, after some little display of surprise and doubt, I took him at his +word, inwardly reserving the right to draw back if I found myself +entering a trap. The man's very proposal involved craft as against the +master of the chateau, but toward me he seemed to be acting with the +utmost simplicity and honesty, so straightforward and free from +excessive protestation he was.</p> + +<p>He led me away to a quiet, secluded place by the riverside, out of sight +of the chateau, that we might talk the matter over in safety. And first +he asked me what I knew of the disposition and habits of the Count de +Lavardin. I told him as much as the innkeeper had told me.</p> + +<p>"Hum!" said he, reflectively; "it agrees with what I have heard. I have +been pumping people a little, in a harmless way. The first thing I +learned was the Count's churlish practice of closing his gates to +strangers, which forces us to use art in obtaining the hospitality we +are entitled to by general custom. So I had to discover some inclination +or hobby of the man's, that I could make use of to approach him. I don't +see how we can reach him through his love of dogs, without having +prepared ourselves with special knowledge and a fine hound or so to +attract his attention. As for his jealousy, it would be too hazardous to +play upon that: besides, I shouldn't like to cook up a tale about his +wife, unless put to it."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, don't speak of such a thing," I said indignantly.</p> + +<p>"No, it wouldn't do. I can't think of a better plan than the one that +first occurred to me. As it required a confederate, I put it aside. But +when I observed you yesterday regarding the chateau so wistfully, I said +to myself, 'No doubt heaven has sent this young man to help me, and that +I in turn may help him.' But I waited to make sure, watching you last +night and this morning till I was convinced of your desire to get into +the chateau."</p> + +<p>It was a surprise to me to learn that I had been watched, but I took it +coolly.</p> + +<p>"The plan I had thought of," he went on, "required that my confederate +should be unknown to the Count and those near him. When I find that you, +who are anxious for your own reasons to enter the chateau, fulfil that +requirement, I can only think the more that heaven has brought us +together. It is more than heaven usually does for one."</p> + +<p>"But what else does your plan require of me?" I asked, impatient to know +what must be faced.</p> + +<p>"You play chess, of course?" was his interrogative answer.</p> + +<p>"A little," said I, wondering what that had to do with the case.</p> + +<p>"Then all is fair ahead of us. Luckily. I play rather well myself. As I +said just now, I have been nosing among the people—nosing is a good +word in my case, isn't it?"—he pointed to his much-extended +proboscis—"I have been nosing about to learn the Count's ruling +passions and so forth. When you have anybody to hoodwink, or obtain +access to without creating suspicion, find out what are his likings and +preoccupations: be sure there will be something there of which you can +avail yourself. From the village priest I learned that, along with his +fondness for hunting and drinking and the lower forms of gaming, the +Count has a taste for more intellectual amusements, and chiefly for the +game of chess. He is a most excellent player, and doesn't often find a +worthy antagonist. His bosom friend, one Captain Ferragant, who is now +living at the chateau, has no skill at chess, so the Count has been put +to sending for this priest to come and play a game now and then, but the +Count beats him too easily for any pleasure and the result of their +games is that the Count only curses the rarity of good chess-players."</p> + +<p>"And so you think of proposing a game with him?"</p> + +<p>"Not exactly," said the long-nosed man, with a faint smile at my +simplicity. "An obscure man like me, travelling without a servant, +doesn't propose games to a great nobleman, at the great nobleman's own +gates. The great nobleman may condescend to invite, but the obscure +traveller may not presume to offer himself,—not, at least, without +creating wonder and some curiosity as to his motives. No; that would be +too direct, moreover. It would suggest that I had been inquisitive about +him, to have learned that he is fond of chess. I may tell you that the +Count has his reasons for imagining that strangers may come trying to +get access to him, who have taken pains to learn something of his ways +beforehand. He has his reasons for suspecting every stranger who seeks +to enter his gates. No; we must neither show any knowledge of him, more +than his name, nor any desire to get into his house. We must play upon +his hobby without openly appealing to it. That is why two of us are +necessary. This is what we will do."</p> + +<p>I listened with great interest, surprised to discover what acuteness of +mind was hidden behind the pale, meek eyes and un-expressive pasty +countenance of this man with the long nose.</p> + +<p>"In an hour or so from now," he said, "I shall be sitting before the +cabaret, where you saw me yesterday. You will come there, from wandering +about the fields, and we will greet each other as having met casually on +our walks this morning—as indeed we actually have met. You will sit +down to refresh yourself with a bottle of wine, and we shall get into +conversation, like the strangers that we are to each other. The people +of the cabaret will hear us, more or less, and the porter at the chateau +gates will doubtless observe us. I will presently lead the talk to the +subject of chess. You will profess to be ardently devoted to the game. I +will show an equally great passion for it. We will express much regret +that we have no chessmen with us, and will inquire if any can be +obtained in the village. I know already that none can be: the priest +once owned a set, but he let the village children use them as toys and +they are broken up. Well, then, rather than lose the opportunity of +encountering a first-class player, you will suggest that we try to +borrow chessmen from the owner of that great chateau, who must surely +possess such things, as no great house is ever without them. You will +thereupon write a note to the Count, saying we are two gentlemen who +have met on our travels, and both claiming to be skilled chess-players, +and hating to part without a trial of prowess, but lacking chessmen, we +take upon ourselves to ask if he may have such a thing as a set which he +will allow us the use of for half a day; and so forth. We will bid the +woman at the cabaret take this note to the porter; and then we have but +to await the result."</p> + +<p>"And what will that be?"</p> + +<p>"We shall see when it comes," said the man tranquilly. I know not +whether he really felt the serene confidence he showed; but he seemed to +be going on the sure ground of past experience. "It will be necessary to +give names and some account of ourselves, no doubt, before all is done. +We shall not be expected to know anything of each other, having only met +as travellers so recently. To the Count I will call myself Monsieur de +Pepicot, a poor gentleman of Amiens. As for you, is there any reason why +you shouldn't use your own name? When you want to deceive anybody, it is +well to be strictly truthful as far as your object will permit."</p> + +<p>"The only reason is, that I may get into the Count's bad graces by what +I may do in his house, and it would be better if he didn't know where to +look for me afterwards."</p> + +<p>"Well, there's something in that. The Count is not a forgiving man. And +yet, as to his power of revenge, I know not—Well, do as you please."</p> + +<p>"Oh, devil take it, I'll go under my own name, let come what may! I +don't like the idea of masquerading."</p> + +<p>"A brave young gentleman! Then there's no more to be said. When we are +inside the chateau, it will be each of us for himself, though of course +we must keep up the comedy of wishing to play chess. Meet me by chance +at the cabaret, then, in about an hour."</p> + +<p>Without any more ado, he left me. Coming forth from the concealed place +a minute later, I saw him strolling along the river, looking at the +fields and the sky, as if nothing else were on his mind. I presently +imitated him, but went in another direction. In due time I made my way +to the cabaret, and there he was, at the table where I had first seen +him.</p> + +<p>We spoke to each other as had been arranged, and easily carried the +conversation to the desired point, mostly in the hearing of the woman of +the cabaret as she sat knitting by the door. When it came to writing the +note, the long-nosed man tore a leaf of paper out of his pocket book, +and had pen and ink fetched from his lodging over the cabaret; I then +composed our request in as courteous phrases as I thought suitable. The +woman herself carried the note to the chateau gates, and we saw a grated +wicket open, and a scowling fellow show his face there, who questioned +her, glanced at us with no friendly look, took the note, and closed the +wicket. We waited half an hour or so, sipping our wine and talking +carelessly, till I imagined the long-nosed man was becoming a little +doubtful. But just as he was losing his placidity so far as to cross one +leg over another, the chateau gate opened, and a heavy, dark-browed +fellow with the appearance rather of a soldier than of a servant, came +out, and over to us, scrutinizing us keenly as he approached. He asked +if we were the gentlemen who had written to borrow a set of chessmen. +Being so informed, he said:</p> + +<p>"Monsieur the Count, my master, begs to be excused from sending his +chessmen to you, but if you will come to them he will be glad to judge +of your playing; and perhaps to offer the winner a bout with himself."</p> + +<p>We took half a minute to evince our pleased surprise, our sense of +favour, and so forth, at this courteous invitation,—and then we +followed the servant to the chateau. It was amusing to see how +innocently, decorously, and consciously of unexpected honour my +long-nosed friend walked through the gateway, and gazed with childlike +admiration around the court-yard and the grey façade of the chateau +confronting us.</p> + +<p>A few wide steps led up to the arched door, which admitted us to a large +hall plentifully furnished with tables, benches, and finely-carved +chairs. It was panelled in oak and hung with arms, boars' heads, and +other trophies. At the upper end of a long table, the one leaning +forward from a chair at the head, the other from the bench at the side, +lounged two men, whom I recognized instantly from the descriptions of +the innkeeper as if from painted portraits. They were the Count de +Lavardin and Captain Ferragant.</p> + +<p>Yes, there was the "lean old grey wolf," grey not only in his bristly +hair and short pointed beard, but even in the general hue of his wizen +face; grey as to the little eyes that peered out between their narrowed +slits; grey even, on this occasion, as to his velvet doublet and +breeches. Though his face was wizen, the leanness of his body had no +appearance of weakness, but rather every sign of strength. I noticed +that his fingers seemed to possess great crunching power, and there was +always on his face the faint beginning of a smile which, I thought, +would heighten into glee when those fingers were in the act of +strangling somebody.</p> + +<p>As for the Captain, there was indeed a great blotch of deep red across +his cheek; he was a large, powerful fellow, with a bold, insolent face, +and fierce, pitiless eyes. To make his sobriquet the fitter, he wore a +suit of crimson, very rich and ornate. His beard and hair, however, were +black.</p> + +<p>"You are welcome, gentlemen," said the Count, in a harsh, thin voice. +"From what part do you come?"</p> + +<p>"From different parts," said my long-nosed companion. "We have only met +as strangers going opposite ways. I am Monsieur de Pepicot, of the +neighbourhood of Amiens, travelling to Angers to see some kinsfolk."</p> + +<p>The Count turned to me, and I recited my name and place, adding that I +was going to Paris, to see a little of the world, and therefore +journeying somewhat indirectly.</p> + +<p>"And behold here Monsieur the Captain Ferragant, who comes from +Burgundy," said the Count, "so that we have North, West, and East all +represented."</p> + +<p>Captain Ferragant bowed as politeness required, but he went no further. +He did not seem to relish our being there. His look was rather +disdainful, I thought, as if we were nobodies unfit for the honour of +his company. And very soon, while the Count was saying we must stay to +dinner, as there was not time for a game of chess before, the Captain +walked away and out of the hall. Seeing that we were to be his guests +for the day, the Count had us shown to a rather remote chamber up two +flights of stairs, where water was brought, and where we were left alone +together. The chamber looked out on a small part of the garden at the +rear of the chateau.</p> + +<p>"Well," said I, washing my hands, "you have played the magician. It has +been as easy as walking, to get into the chateau."</p> + +<p>"Will it be easy to get out again, when our business is done, I wonder?" +replied Monsieur de Pepicot, gazing out of the window at the distant +high wall of the garden.</p> + +<p>"Why do you say that?" I asked, a little surprised at his tone.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I was thinking of the manner in which the gate slammed to, after we +had entered. It is a mere inanimate gate, to be sure, but it was slammed +by a porter, and his manner of slamming it might unconsciously express +what was in his mind. You remember, the Count was rather long in coming +to a decision upon our note. If it occurred to him, after all, that we +might have some design, and that people with a design would be safer +inside than outside—well, I mention this only that you may know to keep +your wits about you."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, but I see no reason to fear anything. Everything seems to be +going admirably. We are assured of some time in which to attend to our +affairs. While one of us is playing chess with the Count, the other will +be free to roam about,—that suits me perfectly. I begin to feel really +grateful for the Count's hospitality—I almost dislike having won it by +a trick."</p> + +<p>"Pish! He is churlish enough as a rule in the matter of +hospitality—it's only fair to win it by a trick."</p> + +<p>I was inwardly much excited at the near prospect of dinner, as the meal +would perhaps give me a sight of the Countess. But of this I was +disappointed. The only people who sat down at the upper table, when +dinner was served in the hall, were the Count, the Captain, my friend +Monsieur de Pepicot, and myself. Elsewhere the benches were crowded with +fellows who, like him that had brought our invitation, appeared as much +warriors as serving men, and their number alone would have arrested +notice. I now recalled how many knaves of this sort I had seen in the +court-yard as I entered the chateau, but at that time I had had other +things to think of.</p> + +<p>The Count said nothing of the absence of his lady, and, as we could +scarce be thought to know whether he had a Countess living, it was not +for us to inquire about her. I spent my time wondering what could be her +situation, and whether her not appearing had anything to do with the +danger in which she supposed herself. My long-nosed friend ate very +industriously, and most of the conversation was between the Count and +the Captain, upon dogs and hawks and such things. When the Count +addressed either Monsieur de Pepicot or me, the Captain was silent. This +reticence, whether it proceeded from jealousy or contempt, seemed to +afford the Count a little amusement, for he turned his small eyes on the +Captain and stretched his thin lips in a smile that was truly horrible +in its relish of another's discontent.</p> + +<p>After dinner, the Count had the chessmen brought at once, and sat down +to watch us at our game. The Captain, with a glance of disapproval at +the chessboard, strolled away as he had done before. I was but a +moderately good player, and discomposed besides, so I held out scarce an +hour against the long-nosed gentleman, who was evidently of great skill. +Apparently the Count, by his ejaculations, thought little of my playing, +but he was so glad when my defeat made room for him, that I escaped his +displeasure. I too was glad, for now, while Monsieur de Pepicot kept the +Count occupied at chess, I should be free to go about the chateau in +search for its mistress. And grateful I was to Monsieur de Pepicot for +having beaten me, for he might easily have left me as the victor and +used this opportunity for his own purpose. I could not think it was +generosity that had made him do otherwise: I could only wonder what his +purpose was, that would bear so much waiting.</p> + +<p>For appearance's sake, I watched the two players awhile: then I imitated +the Captain, and sauntered to the court-yard, wondering if there might +be any servant there whom I could sound. But the men lounging there were +not of a simple-looking sort. They were all of forbidding aspect, and +they stared at me so hard that I returned into the hall. The Count was +intent upon the game. Pushed by the mere impulse of inquiry, I went up +the staircase as if to go to the chamber to which I had before been +conducted. But instead of going all the way up, I turned off at the +first landing into a short corridor, resolved to wander wherever I +might: if anybody stopped me, I could pretend to have lost my way.</p> + +<p>The corridor led into a drawing-room richly tapestried and furnished; +that into another room, which contained musical instruments; that into a +gallery where some portraits were hung. So far I had got access by a +series of curtained archways. The further end of the gallery was closed +by a door. I was walking toward that door, when I heard a step in the +room I had last traversed. I immediately began to look at the pictures.</p> + +<p>A man entered and viewed me suspiciously. He was, by his dress and air, +a servant of some authority in the household, and had not the military +rudeness of the fellows in the court-yard.</p> + +<p>"What is it Monsieur will have?" he asked, with outward courtesy enough.</p> + +<p>"I am looking at the portraits," said I.</p> + +<p>"I will explain them to you," said he. "That is Monsieur the Count in +his youth, painted at Paris by a celebrated Italian." And he went on to +point out the Count's children, now dead, and his first wife, before +going back to a former generation.</p> + +<p>"And the present Countess?" said I at last, looking around the walls in +vain.</p> + +<p>"There is no portrait of Madame the Countess."</p> + +<p>"She was not at dinner," I ventured. "Is she not well?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, she is well, I am happy to say. She often dines in her own +apartments."</p> + +<p>"She is well and yet keeps to her apartments?" I said, with as much +surprise as I thought the circumstance might naturally occasion.</p> + +<p>"She does not keep to her apartments exactly," replied the man, a little +annoyed. "She walks in the garden much of the time. Is there anything +else I may show you, Monsieur?"</p> + +<p>He stood at the curtained entrance, as if to attend my leaving the room, +and I thought best to take the hint. No doubt he had purposely followed +me, to hinder my going too far.</p> + +<p>I returned to the hall, which was very silent, the two players being +deep in their chess. Somewhere in my wake the manservant vanished, and I +seemed free to explore in another direction. The Countess walked much in +the garden, the man had said. It was a fine afternoon—might she not be +walking there now?</p> + +<p>Feigning carelessness, I went out a small door at the rear of the hall, +and found myself in that narrow part of the garden which lay between two +wings of the house, and which our chamber overlooked. This part, which +was really a terrace, was separated by a low Italian balustrade from the +greater garden below and beyond. I walked up the middle path to where +there was an opening in the balustrade at the head of a flight of steps. +But here my confidence received a check. Half-way down the steps was +sitting a burly fellow, who rose at my appearance, and said:</p> + +<p>"Pardon, Monsieur: no further this way, if you please. I am ordered to +stop everybody."</p> + +<p>"But I am the Count's guest," said I.</p> + +<p>"It is all the same. Nobody is to go down to the garden yonder without +orders."</p> + +<p>"Orders from the Count?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"From the Count or the Captain."</p> + +<p>I nearly let out my thought that the Captain had a good deal of +authority at the chateau, but I closed my lips in time. To show +insistence would only injure my purpose: so I contented myself with a +glance at the forbidden territory—a very spacious pleasance, indeed, +with walks, banks of flowers, arbours, and alleys, but with nobody there +to enjoy it that I could see—and went back to the hall.</p> + +<p>As I could not sit there long inactive, for considering how the time was +flying and I had accomplished nothing, I soon started in good faith for +the chamber to which I had feigned to be going before. Once upstairs, +however, it occurred to me to walk pass the door of that chamber, to the +end of the corridor. This passage soon turned leftward into a rear wing +of the building. I followed it, between chamber doors on one side and, +on the other, windows looking down on the smaller garden. It terminated +at last in a blind wall. I supposed myself to be now over that part of +the house which lay beyond the closed door at the end of the picture +gallery. I looked cautiously out of one of the windows, wondering how +much of the great garden might be visible from there. I could see a +large part of it, but not a soul anywhere in it. As I drew back in +disappointment, I was suddenly startled by a low sound that seemed to +come from somewhere beneath me—a single brief sound, which made my +breath stop and pierced my very heart.</p> + +<p>It was the sob of a woman.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h3>WHAT THE PERIL WAS</h3> + + +<p>It seemed to me like a sob of despair, or of the breaking down of +patience, and, knowing what I did already, I quickly imagined it to +proceed from the Countess in a moment when she was beginning to lose +hope of Monsieur de Merri's arrival. To me, therefore, it seemed a stab +of reproach.</p> + +<p>I judged that it came by way of the window below me. So forthwith, at +all hazards, sheltering myself from outside view as well as I could with +the casement, I thrust my head out over the sill, and said in a low +tone:</p> + +<p>"Madame."</p> + +<p>I waited for some moments, with a beating heart, and then called again, +"Madame."</p> + +<p>I thought I heard whispering below. Then a head was thrust out of the +window—a woman's head, soft haired and shapely. "Here I am," I +whispered. The head twisted round, and the face was that of the young +woman who had received the messenger at the postern the day before. But +it was clear that she had not been sobbing, though her face wore a look +of concern.</p> + +<p>"I must speak with Madame the Countess," said I, and added what I +thought would most expedite matters: "I bring news of Monsieur de +Merri."</p> + +<p>The head disappeared: there was more whispering: then the maid looked +out again, using similar precautions to mine with regard to the +casement.</p> + +<p>"Who are you, Monsieur?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I will explain all later. There is little time now. I may soon be +looked for. Contrive to let me have an interview with Madame the +Countess. I don't know how to get to her: I'm not acquainted with the +chateau."</p> + +<p>"Put your head a little further out, Monsieur,—so that I can see your +face."</p> + +<p>I obeyed. She gazed at me searchingly, then withdrew her head again. +Reappearing very soon, she said: "Madame has decided to trust you. These +are her apartments. There is a door from a gallery where pictures +hang—"</p> + +<p>"I have been to that gallery," I interrupted, "but I was watched while +there. Is there no other way?"</p> + +<p>She thought a moment. "Yes, the garden. At the foot of the terrace, turn +to the right, till you get to the end of this wing."</p> + +<p>"But the man at the steps yonder will stop me. He has done so already."</p> + +<p>"That beast! Alas, yes! Well, I will go and talk with him, and keep him +looking at me. You go down to the terrace without attracting any +attention, walk close to the house till you get to this end of the +balustrade, step over the balustrade, descend the bank as quietly as +possible, and wait behind the shrubbery near the door at the end of this +wing,—it's the door from Madame's apartments to the garden. Do you +understand?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly."</p> + +<p>"Then I will be talking to that man by the time you can get to the +terrace. I go at once. Be quick, Monsieur,—and careful."</p> + +<p>Admiring the swift wits and decision of the girl, I hastened through the +corridor, down the stairs, and into the hall. The Count and the +long-nosed man were so buried in their game that neither looked up. A +pair of varlets in attendance were yawning on a bench. Yawning in +imitation, I passed with feigned listlessness to the terrace, went +noiselessly along by the house-wall, and followed the wing to the end of +the balustrade. I did not venture even to look toward the steps, but I +could hear the maid talking and laughing coquettishly. I crossed the +balustrade by sitting on it and swinging my legs over: then strode on +light feet down the grassy bank and through an opening in the shrubbery +I saw at my right. I found myself in a walk which, bordered all the way +by shrubbery, ran from a narrow door in the end of the wing to the other +extremity of the garden. The door, when I first glanced at it, was +slightly ajar: I supposed the maid had left it so. But as soon as I had +come to a halt in the walk, the door opened, and a very young, very +slender, very sad-faced, very beautiful lady came out, with eyes turned +upon me in a mixture of hope and fear.</p> + +<p>I instinctively fell upon my knee before that picture of grief and +beauty. She wore, I remember, a gown of faded blue, and blue was the +colour of her eyes—a soft, fair blue, like that of the sky. She was so +slim, sorrowful, small, childlike, forlorn,—I would have died to serve +her.</p> + +<p>She looked at me searchingly, as the maid had done, but with more +courtesy, and then, in a low voice bidding me follow her, led the way +down the walk and into a side path that wound among some tall +rose-bushes. Here we could not be seen from the walk and yet we might +hear anybody approaching. She stopped and faced me.</p> + +<p>"You have news of Monsieur de Merri," she said eagerly. "What of him?"</p> + +<p>"He is prevented from coming to you, Madame."</p> + +<p>Her face, pale before, turned white as a sheet.</p> + +<p>"But," I hastened to add, "I have come in his stead, and I will serve +you as willingly as he."</p> + +<p>"But that will not do," she said, in great agitation. "Nobody can serve +me at this pass <i>but</i> Monsieur de Merri. Where is he? What prevents +him?"</p> + +<p>"I left him at La Flèche," said I lamely. "I assure you it is utterly +impossible for him to come. But believe me, I am wholly yours for +whatever service you desired of him. You can see that I have come from +him." I took from my pocket her note, and held it out. I then told her +my name and parentage, and begged her not to distrust me because I was +of another religion than hers.</p> + +<p>"It isn't that I don't believe you, Monsieur," she replied. "It isn't +that I doubt your willingness to help me."</p> + +<p>"As to my ability, try me, Madame. My zeal will inspire me."</p> + +<p>"I don't doubt your ability to do brave and difficult things, Monsieur. +But it is not that. It happens—the circumstances are such—alas, nobody +but Monsieur de Merri himself can help me! If you but knew! If <i>he</i> but +knew!"</p> + +<p>"Tell me the case, Madame. Trust me, I beg. Let me be the judge as to +whether I can help you."</p> + +<p>"I do trust you. I am not afraid to tell you. You will see plainly +enough. It is this: I have been slandered to my husband. A week has been +given me in which to clear myself. The week ends to-morrow. If I have +not proved my innocence by that time, God knows what fate my husband +will inflict upon me!"</p> + +<p>She shuddered and closed her eyes.</p> + +<p>"But your innocence, Madame—who can doubt it?"</p> + +<p>"My husband is a strange man, Monsieur. He has little faith in women."</p> + +<p>"But what slander can he believe of you? And who could utter it? What is +its nature?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose it is my husband's friend, Captain Ferragant, who uttered it. +The nature of it is, that Monsieur de Merri's name is associated with +mine. Monsieur de Merri is said to have made a boast about me, in the +tavern at Montoire. It is a hideous lie, invented when Monsieur de Merri +had gone away. And now you see how only Monsieur de Merri can save me, +by coming and facing our accusers and swearing to my innocence. But +to-morrow is the last day. Oh, if he had known why I wanted him! It is +too late now—or is it? Perhaps he sent you ahead? Perhaps he is coming +after you? Is it not so? He will be here to-morrow, will he not?"</p> + +<p>Bitterly I shook my head.</p> + +<p>"Then I am lost," she said, in a whisper of despair.</p> + +<p>"But that cannot be. It isn't for you to prove your innocence—it is for +your accuser to prove your guilt. He cannot do that."</p> + +<p>"You do not know the Count de Lavardin. He will believe any ill of a +woman, and anything that Captain Ferragant tells him. The fact that +Monsieur de Merri is young and accomplished is enough. My husband has +suspected me from the hour of our marriage. And besides that, people at +Montoire have testified that they heard Monsieur de Merri boast of +conquests. Whether that be true or not, it could not have been of me +that he boasted. And if he but knew how I stand, how readily he would +fly to clear me! He is no coward, I am sure."</p> + +<p>I had evidence of that: evidence also of Monsieur de Merri's unfortunate +habit of boasting of conquests. But I was convinced that it could not +have been of her that he had boasted. These thoughts, however, were but +transient flashings across my sense of the plight in which I had put +this unhappy woman by killing Monsieur de Merri. I tried to minimize +that plight.</p> + +<p>"But your fears are exaggerated. Your husband will not dare go too far."</p> + +<p>"He will dare take my life—or lock me up for the rest of my days in a +dungeon—or I know not what. He is all-powerful on his estate—lord of +life and death. You know what these great noblemen do when they believe +their wives unfaithful. I have heard how the Prince de Condé—"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but the Count de Lavardin would have your relations to fear."</p> + +<p>"I have no relations. I was an orphan in a convent. The Count took a +fancy to my face, they told me. They urged me to consent to the +marriage. I could not displease them—I had never disobeyed them. And +now this is the end. Well, I am in the hands of God." She glanced +upwards and gave a sigh of bitter resignation.</p> + +<p>"But after all," I interposed, "you are not certain how your husband +will act."</p> + +<p>"He has threatened the worst vengeance if I cannot clear myself +to-morrow. If you knew him, Monsieur!"</p> + +<p>"He allowed you a week, you say.—"</p> + +<p>"From the day he accused me—last Saturday."</p> + +<p>"And what facilities did he give you for the purpose?"</p> + +<p>"His men and horses were at my service. He knew, of course, that all I +could do was to send for Monsieur de Merri."</p> + +<p>"But why did he not send for Monsieur de Merri?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. I suppose he was ruled by the advice of Captain +Ferragant. Perhaps he thought Monsieur de Merri would not come at his +request."</p> + +<p>"But you did not use your husband's men and horses to send for Monsieur +de Merri."</p> + +<p>"No. Mathilde—my maid whom you saw just now—thought I would better act +secretly. She feared the Captain would bribe the messenger to make only +a pretence of taking my message to Monsieur de Merri. In that case +Monsieur de Merri, knowing nothing, would not come, and his not coming +would be taken as evidence of guilt—as it will be now, though he got my +message, for Hugues is faithful. Why is it, Monsieur, that Monsieur de +Merri sent back word by Hugues that he would follow close, if he could +not come?"</p> + +<p>"Something happened afterward. Hugues, then, is the name of the +messenger you sent?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. He is devoted to Mathilde. They are accustomed to meet at certain +times. Mathilde has not much freedom, as you may guess, sharing my life +as she does. So she contrived to get possession for awhile of the key to +a postern yonder, and to pass it to Hugues when he came with flour. He +had a duplicate made, so that she could restore the original and yet +retain a key with which to let herself out and meet him in the forest. +Thus she was able to see him last Sunday morning, and to send him after +Monsieur de Merri. We knew that De Merri had started Westward, and +Hugues traced him from town to town. Ah, when Hugues returned +successful, how rejoiced we were! We expected Monsieur de Merri every +hour. But the time went by, and our hopes changed to fears, and now, +heaven pity me, it is the fears that have come true!"</p> + +<p>"But you are not yet lost. Even if the Count should be so blind as to +think you guilty, you have at least one resource. You have the key to +the postern. You can flee."</p> + +<p>"And be caught before I had fled two leagues. I am visited every three +hours, as if I were a prisoner, and as soon as I was missed a score of +men would be sent in all directions. Besides, for some reason or other, +the Count has the roads watched from the tower. If I fled into the +forest, the bloodhounds would be put on my track. My husband has hinted +all this to me. And where could I flee to but the Convent? The Count +would have men there before I could reach it."</p> + +<p>"I could find some other place to take you to," said I at a hazard.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Monsieur, then indeed would appearances be against me. Then indeed +would the enemy of my poor reputation have his triumph. Alas, there is +no honourable place in this world for a wife who leaves her husband's +roof, though it be her prison. I will be true to my vows, though I die. +If there be wrong, it shall be all of his doing, none of mine."</p> + +<p>"You believe it is this Captain who has slandered you. Why should he do +that? Why is he your enemy?"</p> + +<p>She blushed and looked down. I understood.</p> + +<p>"But why do you not tell your husband that?" I asked quickly.</p> + +<p>"The Count says it is an old story that wives accuse their husbands' +friends whom they dislike. He thinks women are made of lies. And in any +case he says if I am innocent of this charge I can prove my innocence. +So all depended on Monsieur de Merri's being here to-morrow to speak for +me."</p> + +<p>"Ah, Madame, if only my speaking for you would avail anything!"</p> + +<p>"From the depths of my heart I thank you, Monsieur, though you see how +useless you—And yet there is one thing you can say for me!" A great +light of sudden hope dawned upon her face. "You can tell how you saw +Monsieur de Merri—that he was coming here, but was prevented—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I can do that."</p> + +<p>"And perhaps—who knows?—you can induce the Count to give me a few more +days, till the cause of Monsieur de Merri's delay is past. And then you +can ride or send to Monsieur de Merri, and tell him my situation, and he +will come and put my accuser to shame, after all! Yes, thank God, there +is hope! Oh, Monsieur, you may yet be able to save me!"</p> + +<p>There were tears of joy on her face, and she gratefully clasped my hand +in both of hers.</p> + +<p>It sickened my heart to do it, but I could only shake my head sadly and +say:</p> + +<p>"No, Madame, Monsieur de Merri can never come to speak for you."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" she cried, all the hope rushing out of her face again.</p> + +<p>"He is dead—slain in a duel." I said in a voice as faint as a whisper.</p> + +<p>Her face seemed to turn to marble.</p> + +<p>"Who killed him?" she presently asked in a horrified tone.</p> + +<p>I knelt at her feet, with averted eyes, as one who is all contrition but +dare not ask a pardon.</p> + +<p>"You!" she whispered.</p> + +<p>"When I found this message upon him afterward," said I, "I saw what +injury was done. I could only come in his place, and offer myself. By +one means and another, I learned who it was had sent for him."</p> + +<p>"That brave young gentleman," said she, following her own thoughts; +"that he should die so soon! And you, with his blood on your +hands."—she drew back from me a step—"come to offer your service to me +who, little as I was to him, must yet be counted among his friends! +Monsieur, what could you think of my loyalty?"</p> + +<p>"I thought only of what might be done to prevent further harm. Though I +fought him, I was not his enemy. I had never seen him before. It was a +sudden quarrel, about nothing. Heaven knows, I did not think it would +end as it did. That end has been lamentable enough, Madame. Punish me if +you will: as his friend, you are entitled to avenge him."</p> + +<p>"I only pity him, Monsieur. God forbid I should think of revenge!"</p> + +<p>"You are a saint, Madame. I was about to say that my having killed him +need not make you reject my service. Your doing so might but add to the +evil consequences of my act. Surely he would prefer your accepting my +aid, now that he is for ever powerless to give his. And we must think +now of something to be done—"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus3" id="illus3"></a> +<img src="images/illus3.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"WE WERE INTERRUPTED BY A LOW CRY."</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>We were interrupted by a low cry, "Madame, Madame!" in a soft voice from +within the arbour that sheltered the walk. The Countess said to me, "It +is Mathilde. She means some one is coming. Hide among these bushes. If +we do not meet again, adieu, Monsieur; I thank you from my heart, and +may God pardon you the death of Monsieur de Merri!"</p> + +<p>She started for the walk: I whispered, "But I must help you! Can we not +meet again presently?"</p> + +<p>"I know not," she replied. "Act as you think best, Monsieur. But do not +endanger yourself. I must be gone now."</p> + +<p>She hastened to join the maid, whose whereabouts were indicated by a low +cough. I heard voices, and instantly crawled under the rose bushes, +heedless of scratches. As the voices came down the walk, one of them +turned out to be that of Captain Ferragant. There was but one other, +which I took, from the talk which I heard later, to belong to a falconer +or some such underling. The Captain addressed a few remarks to the +Countess, as to her state of health and the beauty of the day, which she +answered in low tones. Then he and his companion proceeded to walk +about, talking continually, never getting entirely out of my hearing, +and often coming so near that I could make out their words. It seemed +that an endless length of time passed in this way. I heard no more of +Madame and the maid. Finally the Captain and his man walked back toward +the house. I rose, stretched my legs, and peered up and down the walk. +It was deserted. What was I to do next? I naturally strolled toward the +chateau. As I neared the door leading to Madame's apartments, out came +Mathilde.</p> + +<p>"I have been watching for you, Monsieur. Madame had to come in, to avoid +suspicion. If you can get back to the terrace by the way you came down, +I will go again and distract the attention of the guard."</p> + +<p>"I can do that. But what of Madame? I must see her again. We must find +some way to save her."</p> + +<p>"Do what you can, Monsieur. If you think of anything, you know how to +communicate with us by way of the windows. But lose no time now."</p> + +<p>She hastened away to beguile the man on watch at the steps. When I heard +her laughter, I sped over the grass to the foot of the bank. I clambered +up, crossed the balustrade, went along the house, and entered the hall. +Monsieur de Pepicot was just in the act of saying "Checkmate."</p> + +<p>The Count's face turned a shade more ashen, and he looked unhappy. +Presently he smiled, however, and said peevishly:</p> + +<p>"Well, you must give me an opportunity of revenge. We must play another +game."</p> + +<p>"I shall be much honoured," said Monsieur de Pepicot. "But is there time +to-day?"</p> + +<p>"No; it will soon be supper time. But there will be time to-morrow. You +shall stay here to-night."</p> + +<p>"With great pleasure; but there are some poor things of mine at the +cabaret yonder I should like to have by me."</p> + +<p>"I will send a man for your baggage," said the Count.</p> + +<p>"Then I shall have nothing to mar my happiness," said Monsieur de +Pepicot composedly.</p> + +<p>I was very anxious to remain at the chateau for the present, and feared +rather dismissal than the enforced continuance there which the +long-nosed man had fancied might be our fate. So, to make sure, I said:</p> + +<p>"If Monsieur the Count will do me the honour of a game to-morrow, I will +try to make a better contest than I did against Monsieur de Pepicot."</p> + +<p>The Count looked not displeased at this; it gave him somebody to beat in +the event of his being again defeated by Monsieur de Pepicot.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said he; "I cannot refuse you. You too will remain my +guest; and if I may send for your baggage also—"</p> + +<p>I felt vaguely that it would be better to leave my horse and belongings +at the inn at Montoire, in case I should ever wish to make a stealthy +departure from the chateau; so I replied:</p> + +<p>"I thank you, Monsieur; but there is nothing I have urgent need for, or +of such great value that I would keep it near."</p> + +<p>"As you please," said the Count, observing me keenly with his +half-ambushed eyes.</p> + +<p>The man who had escorted us to the chateau was sent to fetch Monsieur de +Pepicot's baggage; and would have brought his horse also, but that +Monsieur de Pepicot mildly but firmly insisted otherwise and despatched +orders for its care in his absence. The baggage consisted of a somewhat +sorry looking portmanteau, which was taken to our chamber. We then had +supper, during which the Count and my long-nosed friend talked of chess +play, while Captain Ferragant ate in frowning silence, now and then +casting no very tolerant glances at us two visitors. I would have tried +by conversation to gain some closer knowledge of this man, but I saw +there was no getting him to talk while that mood lasted. After supper +the Count and the Captain sat over their wine in a manner which showed a +long drinking bout to be their regular evening custom. Monsieur de +Pepicot and I accompanied them as far as our position as guests +required. We then plead the fatigue of recent travel, and were shown to +our room, in which an additional bed had been placed. The Count was by +this time sufficiently forward in his devotions to Bacchus to dispense +easily with such dull company as ours, and the Captain, by the free +breath he drew as we rose to go, showed his relief at our departure.</p> + +<p>When the servant had placed our candles and left us alone, I expressed a +wonder why so great a house could not afford us a room apiece.</p> + +<p>"It is very simple," said the long-nosed man, opening his portmanteau. +"If they should take a fancy to make caged birds of us, it's easier +tending one cage than two."</p> + +<p>I went to bed wondering what the morrow had in store. I saw now clearly +that I might accomplish something by informing the Count that Monsieur +de Merri was dead and that he was on his way to Lavardin when I met him. +His failure to appear could not then be held as evidence of guilt: his +intention to come might count much in the Countess's favour.</p> + +<p>As my head sank into the pillow, there came suddenly to my mind the +second of the three maxims Blaise Tripault had learned from the monk:</p> + +<p>"<i>Never sleep in a house where the master is old and the wife young.</i>"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<h3>STRANGE DISAPPEARANCES</h3> + + +<p>Monsieur de Pepicot spent so many minutes among the contents of his +travelling bag, that he was not in bed as soon as I. But he was by far +the sooner asleep, as his loud snoring testified. To that music ran my +thoughts of the beautiful young Countess and her unhappy situation, till +at last they passed into dreams. In the midst of the night I woke, and +listened for my neighbour's snoring. But it had ceased. Then I strained +my ears to catch the sound of his breathing, but none came. Wondering at +this, I rose and went over toward his bed. There was just light enough +by the window to see that it was empty.</p> + +<p>I was still in the midst of my surprise, when the door opened with a +very slight creak, and in walked a slim figure so silently that I knew +it was without shoes.</p> + +<p>"Is that you, Monsieur de Pepicot?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"H'sh," he replied in a whisper, closing the door carefully. "Don't +disturb the slumbers of the household. You are very wakeful."</p> + +<p>"No more so than you are, it seems," I said.</p> + +<p>"That is true. I often suffer from sleeplessness, and I find a walk is +the thing to put me right."</p> + +<p>"You were wise to take a light with you on your walk," I observed, for +he now produced a small lantern from under his loose-fitting doublet, +where it had been entirely concealed.</p> + +<p>"Yes; one might hurt one's toes in these dark passages," he answered, +and placidly drew some papers from his breast pocket, folded them +carefully by the lantern's light, and then as carefully replaced them. +"I trust you made some progress in your affair here during the +afternoon."</p> + +<p>"Yes. But you were kept busy with the Count."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't complain. I was about to say that if you preferred to leave +the house to-night, no doubt I could manage it for you."</p> + +<p>"Why should I prefer to leave to-night?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, merely because this Count may be a dangerous man to have much to do +with. I know nothing of your affairs, and of course you have no interest +in mine. The Count will understand that, no doubt, and will not hold you +responsible for anything I may do, if you choose to stay here longer."</p> + +<p>"Well, I must stay here longer, in any case."</p> + +<p>"Then there is no more to be said," answered the long-nosed man, +extinguishing his lantern, which he wrapped up and put into his +portmanteau. He then lay down upon his bed, without undressing.</p> + +<p>I returned to my own couch and was soon asleep.</p> + +<p>When I woke again, it was daylight. Monsieur de Pepicot and his +portmanteau were gone. It occurred to me now, as I washed and dressed, +that when he spoke of my departing by night he intended to make just +such an unceremonious exit himself. In that case, I inferred, he had +thought it only fair, as I had helped him to get into the chateau, that +he should offer to help me to get out, for he had made no secret of his +fears that we might find opposition to our doing so. But, if he had +indeed fled, how had he contrived to get out in the middle of the night? +As for his purpose in getting in, he must have accomplished that while +on his midnight perambulations.</p> + +<p>I went downstairs, but he was not in the hall, nor on the terrace nor in +the court-yard. It was a fine morning, and I was for walking about. At +one side of the court-yard the wall was pierced by a narrow gateway, +which took me into a second court-yard, of which one of the further +angles was filled by a quadrant of the great tower that rose toward +heaven from a corner of the main chateau. There was a small door from +this court-yard to the tower. This tower, for its bigness and height, +took my eyes the first moment, but the next they were attracted by the +living figures in the court-yard. These were Captain Ferragant and a +pack of great hounds which he was marshalling before him, throwing a +piece of meat now to one, now to another, calling out by name which +animal was to catch. He indeed managed to keep them in some sort of +order and from closing around him, and though they all barked and leaped +at each throw, yet only the one whose name was called would dare +actually to close jaws upon the titbit. This went on for some time, +until at last one huge brute, leaping higher, seized the meat intended +for another.</p> + +<p>The red Captain swore a fierce oath, and, grasping a whip, called the +interloping dog to come to him. The animal slunk back. The Captain +advanced among the pack, still calling the hound in the most threatening +voice. But the hound slunk further, growling and showing his teeth. The +Captain sprang forward and brought down his whip. The dog, mutinous, +made a snap at the Captain. The latter, now deeply enraged, threw aside +the whip, caught the animal by the neck, lifted it high, and, with a +swift contraction of his fingers, caused its eyes and tongue to protrude +and its body to writhe and hang powerless. He then flung the dead +creature to a corner of the yard, and looked at me with a smile half +vaunting, half amused, as if to say, "That is how I can treat those who +thwart my will," and to ridicule my wonder at his fury and strength.</p> + +<p>I turned with a look of pity toward the victim of his anger. At that +moment the Count de Lavardin entered the court-yard, and his glance +followed mine. Having seen what I saw, he looked protestingly at the +Captain.</p> + +<p>"The brute was rebellious," said Ferragant.</p> + +<p>"But one doesn't run across such dogs every day," complained the Count.</p> + +<p>"The rarest dog shall not defy me," was the cool answer.</p> + +<p>"That's all very well, if it had been your own dog," said the Count, +still peevish.</p> + +<p>"Oh, as to that, we are quits now. Your dog to-day pays for my man you +killed last week."</p> + +<p>"Pish, it's easy enough to find rascals like that by the score. Not so, +dogs like this. Well, talking won't make him live again—Good morning, +Monsieur. Where is your comrade, Monsieur de Pepicot?"</p> + +<p>I could only answer that on waking I had been disappointed of seeing +either Monsieur de Pepicot or his baggage. "Nor have I beheld him since, +though I have been looking about."</p> + +<p>"That is very strange,—that he should take his baggage from the room," +said the Count, exchanging a look of surprise with the Captain. He then +called two servants and gave them orders quietly, which must have been +to search the house and grounds for Monsieur de Pepicot. As we returned +to the hall, the Count questioned me, watching me sharply the while. I +was perfectly safe in telling the literal truth, though not all of it: +how Monsieur de Pepicot was a stranger to me, how I had never spoken to +him before yesterday, how I knew nothing of his business, and so forth. +Of course I said nothing of his midnight walk or of having conversed +with him at all after going to bed. The Count's mystification and +annoyance were manifest, the more so when, after some time, the servants +returned to say that the missing man could not be found. When he had +heard their report, the Count was very angry.</p> + +<p>"Name of the devil, then, how did he get out? There is treachery +somewhere, and somebody shall pay for it," he screeched, and then +despatched a man to the cabaret to see if Monsieur de Pepicot had taken +his horse away. The man came back saying the horse was gone, but nobody +had seen the owner take it.</p> + +<p>"It is certainly odd that the gentleman should depart secretly like +that, when he might have waited for day and gone civilly," said I, to +evince my simplicity.</p> + +<p>"You are right, very right," said the Count. "Well, at least you remain +to play a game of chess with me. What I am thinking is, the man must +have had some private reason for obtaining entrance to my house."</p> + +<p>"Possibly, Monsieur," I replied, bearing the searching gaze of both the +Count and the Captain well enough.</p> + +<p>"In that case, he made a tool of you," added the Count, still intent on +my expression.</p> + +<p>"That would be the inference," said I.</p> + +<p>"Well, we must satisfy ourselves as to how he took his departure, if we +cannot guess why. Make yourself master of the house, Monsieur. We shall +have our game nevertheless."</p> + +<p>And he went off with the Captain, to examine the places of exit from the +chateau and the men who were responsible for their security. One could +see that Monsieur de Pepicot's disappearance was as disturbing to the +Count as it was puzzling to me.</p> + +<p>I wandered out to the terrace and paced the walk along the house. My +eyes turned toward that window in the west wing which I knew to belong +to the apartments of the Countess. I turned along the wing, and strolled +under that window, thinking Madame or Mathilde might make an appearance +at it. I kept moving to and fro within easy earshot of it, sometimes +glancing up at the half-open casement. This was the clay on which the +poor lady's fate was to be determined by her husband and lord. I +wondered what sort of scene was arranged for the event, whether it would +have the form of trial and judgment, when and where it would occur, and +if I should be admitted to it. Probably I should not, and therefore I +would best speak to the Count regarding Monsieur de Merri before. The +thing was, to find a pretext for broaching the matter without betraying +that I had talked with the Countess. I had thought all this over during +the night, a hundred times, but now I thought it over again; and, in +vague search for some hint or guidance, I looked often up to the window, +as I have said.</p> + +<p>Presently I heard a single sharp, low syllable of laughter, which drew +my glance to the door by which I had come out to the terrace. There +stood the red Captain, his eyes upon me. When he saw that I noticed him, +he came toward me, whereupon I, with pretended carelessness, went to +meet him half way.</p> + +<p>"You seem to find it very interesting, that window," said he, in a low +voice. "To me it looks like any of the others." And he ran his glance +ironically along the whole range.</p> + +<p>"I thought you had gone with the Count to learn how Monsieur de Pepicot +got away," said I, guessing that he had come back to watch me, doubtless +considering that, after the evident duplicity of one guest, the other +might require some looking after.</p> + +<p>"And so you thought yourself free to post yourself over there and make +eyes at that window?" said the Captain with a smile that half jeered at +me, half threatened me with annihilation.</p> + +<p>"I do not quite understand your little jest," said I, boldly enough.</p> + +<p>"You may find it one of those jests in which the laugh is only on one +side, and that side not yours, young gentleman. Your friend with the +long nose, it appears, had his secret motives for paying a visit to this +chateau. We smelt some such thing when the letter came asking for a set +of chessmen, and so the Count admitted you, thinking you just as safe +inside the chateau as outside. It was not the intention to let you out +again in too great haste."</p> + +<p>"In that case," I put in, feigning to treat the matter gaily, "Monsieur +de Pepicot was wise in leaving as he did."</p> + +<p>"I was about to say that if Monsieur de Pepicot had his secret purposes, +it is but fair to suppose you may have yours. If it turns out to be so, +and if your object has anything to do with what you may imagine is +behind that window,—why, then, I warn you in time it would be much +better for you to have been that dog which opposed me a while ago,—very +much better, my pert young gentleman, I assure you."</p> + +<p>He turned and walked into the house, leaving me without any fit answer +on my tongue, or indeed in my mind either.</p> + +<p>It appeared to me that the sooner I had my explanation with the Count, +the better for both the Countess and myself. So I returned into the +hall, which the Captain was leaving by the court-yard door, and waited +for the Count's reappearance. When he did come, it was clear from his +face that the manner of Monsieur de Pepicot's escape—for escape it must +now be called—was still a mystery. It was plain, too, when his eyes +alighted on me, that he had heard from the Captain, who followed him, of +my conduct beneath the window. As he came toward me, he scowled and +looked very wicked and crafty. Before he could speak, I said:</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, there is something I wish to tell you, if you will allow me +to speak to you alone."</p> + +<p>"Regarding Monsieur de Pepicot?"</p> + +<p>"No; regarding myself and the reason of my coming to Lavardin."</p> + +<p>"That is interesting. Let us hear."</p> + +<p>"It is for you alone."</p> + +<p>"Oh, to be sure. Captain Ferragant, if you will excuse me,—"</p> + +<p>The Captain, with a shrug, swaggered off to the furthest corner of the +hall.</p> + +<p>"You have been acquainted," I began, "with a certain Monsieur de Merri."</p> + +<p>The Count's face seemed to jump. I had certainly caught his attention. +But his speech was perfectly controlled as he said:</p> + +<p>"Yes. And what of him?"</p> + +<p>"He had the misfortune to be killed in a sudden duel four days ago at La +Flèche."</p> + +<p>He was plainly startled; but, after a moment's silence, he only said, +"You astonish me," and waited for me to continue.</p> + +<p>"I feared I should," said I, "for it turned out, after the duel, that +Monsieur de Merri was on his way to see you, upon some matter of great +urgency."</p> + +<p>"On his way to see me! How do you know that?"</p> + +<p>I thought it best to tell as much truth as possible.</p> + +<p>"I learned from his servant that he was bound in great haste for +Montoire. Coming to Montoire, I inquired, and was informed that his only +tie in this neighbourhood was his acquaintance with you. Therefore it +must have been you he was coming to see, and his haste implied the +urgency of his reasons, whatever they may have been. Thinking you might +be depending upon his arrival, I resolved to tell you of his death."</p> + +<p>"It is a little odd that you should put yourself out to do that."</p> + +<p>"It might be, if I were not responsible for his failure to come to you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, then it was you who killed him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; and thought it only the proper act of a gentleman to carry the +news to the person who may have expected him."</p> + +<p>"H'm. No doubt. But why did you not come directly and tell me?"</p> + +<p>"I heard you made yourself entirely inaccessible to strangers. So when +Monsieur de Pepicot spoke of asking you to lend us chessmen, I thought +it might lead to some breaking down of your reserve,—as it did."</p> + +<p>"But why did you wait a day before telling me?"</p> + +<p>"I hoped that chance might enable me to see you alone. But you were so +deeply engrossed in your chess. And I hesitated lest you might think +yourself bound, as Monsieur de Merri's friend, to deliver me up for +having violated the edict."</p> + +<p>These were certainly sufficient reasons, though, as you know, I had not +thought of telling him of Monsieur de Merri till after I had heard the +Countess's story, and therefore they were not the true answer to his +question. But I no longer found safe standing on the ground of truth, +and so fell back upon the soil of invention, uncertain as it was. The +Count looked as far into me as he could, and then called the Captain, +who came without haste to the great fireplace where we were. Without any +explanation to me, or other preface, the Count repeated my disclosure to +his friend, all the time in the manner of one submitting a story to the +hearer's judgment as to its truth.</p> + +<p>The Captain shrugged his shoulders, and looked at me scornfully. "It is +a fine, credible tale indeed," said he.</p> + +<p>"If you will take the trouble to send to La Flèche, you will find that +Monsieur de Merri is really slain," said I warmly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no doubt," said the Captain. "But before he was slain, he had time +to take you into his confidence regarding certain things."</p> + +<p>"Not at all. I had never seen him before that evening. It was from his +servant, after he was dead, that I learned he was coming to Montoire. If +you can find that servant, at La Flèche or Sablé, he will tell you so."</p> + +<p>"How could he have known he was wanted here?" asked the Captain of the +Count. "Your offer of a messenger was disdained."</p> + +<p>"I knew she would contrive to send after him on her own account, if I +gave her enough liberty," returned the Count.</p> + +<p>"It argues skill in such contrivances," said the Captain, with a +significant look.</p> + +<p>The Count frowned in a sickly way, but not at the speaker. "Well, in any +case, the liberty will now be cut off," he said harshly. But after a +moment, he added: "And yet, if this gentleman does not lie, Monsieur de +Merri was coming here fast enough."</p> + +<p>"To brazen it out, perhaps. There is no limit to the self-confidence of +youth. As for this gentleman, how does his story account for the +interest he takes in a certain window that looks upon the terrace?"</p> + +<p>The Count's face darkened again, as he turned menacingly toward me. +"Yes, by heaven, I had forgotten that."</p> + +<p>"To be frank," said I awkwardly, after a moment's hesitation, "I had +seen a pretty face there—I mean that of Mathilde." I added the last +words in haste, for the Count's look had shown for an instant that he +took me to mean that of the Countess.</p> + +<p>"Ah! that of Mathilde," he repeated, subsiding.</p> + +<p>"And how did you know her name was Mathilde?" asked the Captain, in a +cold, derisive tone. The Count's eyes waited for my answer.</p> + +<p>"I—exchanged a few words with her yesterday afternoon," I replied.</p> + +<p>"In regard to what subject?" asked the Count quickly, making a veritable +grimace in the acuteness of his suspicion.</p> + +<p>"I paid her a compliment or two, such as one bestows upon a pretty +girl."</p> + +<p>"He is evading," said the Captain. "It is a question whether he did not +presume to offer his compliments higher. One does not say to a pretty +girl, 'What is your name?' nor does the girl reply 'Mathilde,' as if she +were a child. It is more likely he heard the girl's name from other +lips. And was he not found spying about the west gallery by Ambroise? My +dear Count, I fear you kept your nose too close to the chessboard +yesterday afternoon. As for me, if I had known as much as I know now, I +should have been more watchful."</p> + +<p>The Count's face had turned sicklier and uglier as his friend had +continued to speak. He looked now as if he would like to pounce upon me +with his claw-like fingers. He was evidently between the desire to +question me outright as to whether anything had passed between me and +the Countess, and the dislike of showing openly to a stranger any +suspicion of his wife. The latter feeling prevailed, and he regained +control of himself. I breathed a little easier. But just then it +occurred to me that the Count would surely tax the Countess with having +seen me; that she would acknowledge our meeting; and that her own +account of it would be disbelieved, and the worst imaginings added, for +the very reason of my maintaining secrecy about it. I therefore took a +sudden course.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur," I said. "I will be perfectly open with you. From some casual +words of Monsieur de Merri at the inn at La Flèche, before we +quarrelled, I was led to believe that the cause of his journey had +something to do with the welfare of a lady. Afterwards when I heard +whither he was bound so hastily, I remembered that. On learning at +Montoire that this chateau was the only house in which he was known +hereabouts, I assumed that the lady must be in this chateau. It turned +out that the only lady here was the Countess herself. Do you wonder, +then, at my endeavouring to speak to the Countess first upon the matter +of Monsieur de Merri's death?"</p> + +<p>"Pray go on," said the Count, who was taking short and rapid breaths.</p> + +<p>"It is true I saw the maid at that window, but I saw also the +impossibility of communicating properly with Madame by that channel. So, +in spite of your sentinel's vigilance, I crossed the balustrade to the +garden, and there had the honour of presenting myself to the Countess. I +acquainted her with the fate of Monsieur de Merri. Her demeanour causing +me to believe that this put her into peril on her own account, I so +pushed my inquiries and offers of service that she told me what that +peril was. She said she was the victim of a slander which only Monsieur +de Merri's presence here could clear her of. We were soon interrupted +and she left me. I did not see her again, but it appeared to me that, as +Monsieur de Merri's presence here would have stood in her favour, the +news of his intention to be here must also stand that way. And now, +Monsieur, you have the whole story."</p> + +<p>It seemed to have weight with him: but, alas, he looked to the Captain +for an opinion. That gentleman, regarding me with a smile of ironical +admiration, uttered a monosyllabic laugh in his throat, and said:</p> + +<p>"There is one thing we can believe, at least. We know Monsieur de +Merri's habit of disclosing his affairs with ladies to strangers at +inns."</p> + +<p>The Count's face grew dark again.</p> + +<p>"But we can never be sure how much may have passed between Monsieur de +Merri and this gentleman on the subject before they quarrelled, or what +was the real motive that brought him here."</p> + +<p>"My God!" I cried; "what gentleman could require a stronger motive than +I have shown? Having prevented Monsieur de Merri from coming here upon +so urgent a matter, what else could I do in honour but come in his +place?"</p> + +<p>"'In his place'—yes, perhaps, that is well said," retorted the Captain, +with his evil smile.</p> + +<p>The Count, whose judgment seemed entirely under the dominion of his +friend, looked at me again as if he would destroy me. After a moment, he +took a turn across the hall and back, and then said to me:</p> + +<p>"Well, in the midst of all this deceit and uncertainty one thing is +clear. You know too much of our private affairs here to be permitted to +go where you will, for the present. I must ask you, therefore, to keep +to your chamber awhile. Your wants will be provided for there. I will +show you the way myself, on this occasion." He motioned toward the +stairway, and the Captain stood ready to accompany him.</p> + +<p>"That amounts to making me a prisoner, Monsieur," said I.</p> + +<p>"We shall not dispute over words," replied the Count. "By your own +confession, you are liable to the law for killing Monsieur de Merri."</p> + +<p>"I have reason to expect the King's pardon for that. Measures have +already been taken."</p> + +<p>"Pray don't keep me waiting, Monsieur. I should not like to be compelled +to have my men lay hands on you." At the same time his smile looked as +if he would like that very much.</p> + +<p>There was nothing to do, for the moment, but yield. The Captain was +watching to see where my hand moved, and I know not how many armed men +were in the court-yard, besides the servants waiting at the other end of +the hall. So I obeyed the Count's gesture, merely saying:</p> + +<p>"You will find I am not a person who will go unavenged in case of +indignity."</p> + +<p>The Count laughed, in his dry, sharp manner, and walked by my side. The +Captain followed. As soon as I was in my room, the Count called a +servant, who went away and presently returned with a key. The Count and +his friend then left me, and locked the door on the outside. As I sat +down on my bed, I was glad I had offered no useless resistance, for, as +it was, I had not been deprived of my weapons.</p> + +<p>To make a short matter here of what seemed a very long one at the time, +I was kept locked in my room all that day, with two armed men outside my +door, as I guessed first from hearing them, and certified afterwards by +seeing them when a servant brought my food. What made the confinement +and inaction the more trying was my knowledge that this was the day on +which the Countess was to plead her innocence. I kept wondering through +the tedious hours how matters were going with her, and I often strained +my ears in the poor hope of discovering by them what might be going on +in the chateau. But I never heard anything but the rough speech and +movements of the men outside my door, and now and then the voice of some +attendant on the terrace below my window. I could look diagonally across +the terrace to the window where I had seen Mathilde, but not once during +all that day did I behold a sign of life there. The night came without +bringing me any hint as to how the Countess had fared. I could not sleep +till late.</p> + +<p>When I woke, early in the morning, I noticed that my door was slightly +ajar. Looking out, I found the corridor empty. I took this to mean that +I was not to remain a prisoner, and so it proved. Hastily dressing and +going downstairs, though many servants were about, I encountered no +hindrance. I passed out to the terrace. To my surprise, nobody was on +guard at the steps; so I went boldly down to the garden. My heart beat +with a vague hope of meeting the Countess, though it was scarce late +enough in the day to expect her to be out. I must confess it was not +alone her being an oppressed lady whom I had engaged myself to aid, that +made me look so eagerly down all the walks and peer so keenly into all +the arbours; I must confess it was largely the impression her beauty and +tenderness had left upon me. But I was disappointed: I explored the +whole garden in vain.</p> + +<p>Anything to be near her, I thought. So I went and hung about the door +between the garden and her apartments. But it remained closed and +enigmatic. I had another idea, and, returning into the house, took my +way unchecked to the gallery of pictures, wondering at the freedom of +passage now allowed me, and at the same time resolved to make the most +of it. I could scarce believe my eyes when I saw the door ajar which led +to Madame's suite. I went and tapped lightly on it, but got no answer. +It opened to a large drawing-room, well furnished but without any +inhabitant. I crossed this room to the other side, which had two doors, +both open. One gave entrance to a sleeping-chamber, in a corner of which +was a prie-dieu, and which showed in a hundred details to be the bedroom +of a lady. But the bed was made up, and a smaller bed, in a recess, +which might be that of the maid, also had the appearance of not having +been used the previous night. I looked through the other doorway from +the drawing-room, and saw a stairway leading down to the garden door. +Had the Countess and Mathilde, then, gone into the garden at the time I +was in the act of coming to the gallery? No; for the garden door was +bolted on the inside. I went to one of the drawing-room windows looking +on the terrace, and made sure it was the window from which Mathilde had +first answered my call. And then it dawned upon me what the desertion of +these rooms meant, and why I was allowed to go where I would in the +house and garden. The Countess and her maid were no longer there. What +had become of them?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<h3>MATHILDE</h3> + + +<p>Well, there was no indication to be found in the Countess's apartments +as to where she had removed to, and I thought it best not to risk being +seen there. So I went down to the hall again. As I glanced through the +court-yard to the outer gates, I thought of trying to leave the chateau, +to see if my new liberty went so far as to permit that. But I reflected +that if I were once let out I might not be let in again, and my chance +of learning what had become of the Countess lay, I supposed, inside the +chateau. So I resolved to stay there and await the turn that matters +might take. And certainly never was any man a guest in stranger +circumstances of guestship. I hated and feared my host, and was loth to +accept his hospitality, yet stayed of my own will, though I knew not +certainly whether I was free to go. My host hated me, yet tolerated my +presence—if indeed he would not have enforced it—for the sake of +having me at hand if he thought fit to crush me. When he appeared that +morning, I thanked him ironically for restoring me to liberty. He only +uttered his harsh crackling laugh in reply, and regarded me with a +pretended disdain which failed to conceal his hatred and his longing to +penetrate my mind and learn what indeed was between me and his Countess. +In such men, especially when they have an evil suggester like the +Captain at their ear, jealousy is a madness, and no assurances—nay, not +even oaths—of innocence will be taken by them as truth. But his pride +made him feign contempt for me, and he had nothing to say to me that +day. Neither had the Captain, whose manner toward me merely reverted to +what it had been at first. I saw my former place made ready at the +table, and took it. The Count and his friend talked of their sports and +the affairs of the estate, and not one word of the Countess was spoken. +Having eaten, they went off to ride, leaving me to amuse myself as I +might. The air of the chateau seemed the freer for their absence, but +still it was to me a sinister place, and an irreligious place too, for, +though the Count and his friend were Catholics, I had not seen the sign +of a chaplain or of any religious observance since I had crossed the +drawbridge. So I prepared myself for a dull yet anxious day, and lounged +about the hall and court-yard as the places where I might best hope to +find out something from the domestics of the house.</p> + +<p>As I paced the stones of the court-yard, I became aware that a certain +maidservant had been obtruding upon my view with a persistency that +might be intentional. I now regarded her, as she stood in a small +doorway leading to the kitchen. She was a plump, well-made thing, with a +wholesome, honest face, but the sluttishness of her loose frock, and of +a great cap that hung over her eyes, were too suggestive of the +scullery. As soon as she saw I noticed her, she put one finger on her +lip, and swiftly beckoned me with another.</p> + +<p>I strolled carelessly over, and stopped within a foot of her, pretending +to readjust my sword-belt.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur," she said in an undertone, "you are desired to be in your +chamber this afternoon at four o'clock."</p> + +<p>I glanced at the girl in wonder.</p> + +<p>"That is all at present," she whispered. I had the discretion to move +on. There were, as usual, several armed fellows idling about the +court-yard, but none seemed to have observed that any word had passed +between the kitchen-maid and me.</p> + +<p>Here was matter for astonishment and conjecture for the next few hours. +In some manner or other, those hours passed, and at four I was seated in +my chamber, having left the door open an inch or so. The turret clock +had scarce done striking when the door was pushed wide; somebody entered +and instantly closed it. I had a brief feeling of disappointment as I +saw the slovenly frock and overhanging cap of the kitchen-maid. Was it +she, then, who paid me the compliment of this clandestine visit?</p> + +<p>No; for the cap was swiftly flung back from the brow, and there was the +bright and comely face of Mathilde. I uttered her name in pleased +surprise.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said quickly, "Mathilde in the guise of Brigitte. I have come +from Madame the Countess."</p> + +<p>"And where is she?" I asked eagerly.</p> + +<p>"In the great tower."</p> + +<p>"A prisoner?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I with her. Fortunately there was nothing else to do with me, +unless they killed me. So I am able to attend her."</p> + +<p>"Faithful Mathilde! But why is this?"</p> + +<p>"It is the fulfilment of the Count's threat in case Madame could not +clear herself of that false charge."</p> + +<p>"But the Count knew that Monsieur de Merri was coming here. I told him."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Monsieur, but the Count would believe as much of your story as +Captain Ferragant would choose to let him. Your very interest in +Madame's fate has been new food for his jealousy."</p> + +<p>"God forbid!"</p> + +<p>"It is not your fault, Monsieur; it is the Count's madness. He locks his +wife up, as much that she may be inaccessible to you and all other men, +as because of anything concerning Monsieur de Merri."</p> + +<p>"You may well call it his madness."</p> + +<p>"Yes; for, whatever other ladies may have deserved who have been treated +thus, the Countess is the most virtuous of wives. Her regard for her +marriage vows—in spite of the husband she has—is a part of her +religion. But his mind is poisoned. He naturally believes that a young +and beautiful woman would not be faithful to an old wolf like him. And +he is almost right, for there is only one young and beautiful woman in +France who would be, and that is the Countess."</p> + +<p>"Surely not because she loves him?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no. It is because of her religion. She was brought up at a convent +school, and when the Count offered to marry her, the Mother Superior +made her think it her duty and heaven's will that she should accept the +high position, where her piety would shine so much further: and having +become his wife, she would die rather than violate a wife's duties by a +hair's breadth. But what is her reward? Not because he loves +her—there's more love in a stone!—but because he can't endure the +thought of any trespass on what is his—because he dreads being made a +jeer of—he goes mad with jealousy and suspicion. He imitates the Prince +of Condé by locking his wife up in a tower."</p> + +<p>"But this cannot last forever."</p> + +<p>"No, Monsieur, and for a very good reason—the Countess's life cannot +last forever under this treatment—even if the Count, in some wild +imagining of her guilt, conjured up by Captain Ferragant, does not +murder her. It's that thought which makes me shudder. It could be done +so quietly in that lonely cell, and any account of her death could be +given out to avoid scandal."</p> + +<p>"Horrible, Mathilde! He would not go to that length."</p> + +<p>"Men have done so. You are a stranger, and have not seen the frenzies +into which the Count sometimes works himself, torturing his mind by +imagining actions of infidelity on her part."</p> + +<p>"But that disease of his mind will wear itself out; then he will see +matters more sanely."</p> + +<p>"Will he grow better, do you think, as he grows older, and drinks more +wine, and falls more under the influence of the red Captain?"</p> + +<p>To say truth, I thought as Mathilde did, though I had spoken otherwise +for mere form of reassurance.</p> + +<p>"What is her prison like?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"A gloomy room no larger that this, with a single small window. There is +no panelling nor tapestry nor plaster—nothing but the bare stones. +There are a bed for Madame, a cot for me, a table, and two chairs: +nothing else to make it look like a human habitation, save our +crucifixes, an image of the Virgin, a trunk, and Madame's book of +Hours."</p> + +<p>"A small window, you say. Is it barred?"</p> + +<p>"No; but our room is very high up in the tower."</p> + +<p>"Still, if one got through the window—is it large enough for that?"</p> + +<p>"One might get through; but the moat is beneath—far beneath."</p> + +<p>"The window looks toward Montoire, then, if the moat is beneath."</p> + +<p>"Yes; we can see the sunset."</p> + +<p>"At all events, a person dropping from the window would alight outside +the walls of the chateau?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Monsieur,—in the moat, as I said. It would be a long drop, too. I +don't know how high up the room is. It seems a great many steps up the +winding stairs before one comes to the landing before the door."</p> + +<p>"Is it at the top of the tower, then?"</p> + +<p>"No; for beyond our door the stairs begin again, and they seem to wind +more steeply."</p> + +<p>"You noticed the sunset. Then you must have been there yesterday +evening."</p> + +<p>"Yes; we were taken there shortly after noon yesterday. That was the +limit to the time given the Countess in which to prove her innocence. +She was summoned to the picture gallery by the Count himself, and nobody +else was there but Captain Ferragant. The door was closed against me, +and what passed between that saint and those two devils I know not; but +after a little the door was opened, and there she was, very pale and +with her eyes raised in prayer. The Count, who was blue with +vindictiveness, told me to get together what things Madame should order; +and when that was done, he bade us follow, and led the way down to the +court-yard and to the tower, the Captain walking behind. As we climbed +those narrow winding steps, I wished the Count might trip in the +half-darkness and break his neck, but alas, it was only poor Madame who +stumbled now and then. The Count showed us into the room, already +furnished for us, and waited till a man had brought the trunk in which I +had put some of Madame's clothes. The Count left without a word, and we +heard the door locked outside. At first I thought we were to be left to +starve, but after some hours the door was unlocked by a man on guard +outside, and Brigitte appeared with our supper. She told us she was to +come twice a day with our food, and for other necessary services. And +when she came again this morning, I had planned how I should manage to +see you."</p> + +<p>"You are as clever as you are true, Mathilde."</p> + +<p>"Fortunately Brigitte looks such a simple, witless creature that the man +on guard on the landing has not thought to pry while she has been with +us, and has allowed the door to be shut. He cannot then see in, as the +grated opening has been closed, out of regard to Madame's sex. So this +morning I got Brigitte's consent to my plan, for the poor girl is the +softest-hearted creature in the world. And to make sure of finding you +immediately when I got out, I charged her to tell you to be in your room +at four o'clock."</p> + +<p>"Which she did very adroitly."</p> + +<p>"She is not such a fool as some take her for. Well, when she came to us +awhile ago, I transferred this frock and cap from her to me, and had her +call out to the guard that she had forgotten something and must return +to the kitchen for it. 'Very well, beauty,' said the guard ironically, +and I came out in a great hurry, and was on my way downstairs before he +could take a second look at me. The landing is a dark place, and my +figure so much like Brigitte's that her clothes make it look quite the +same. There is another man on guard, at the bottom of the stairs, but he +was as easily deceived as the one above. I ran across the two +court-yards, and through the kitchen passage to the servants' stairs, +and nobody glanced twice at me. Brigitte, of course, must stay with +Madame till I return,—and now, Monsieur, it is time I was back, and I +have said nothing of what I came to say."</p> + +<p>"You have said much that is important. But 'tis true, you'd best say the +rest quickly,—your return may be dangerous enough."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I shall go so fast that nobody will have time to suspect me. As for +the guards, it is their duty to keep me in. Should they see it is I who +was out, they will be very glad to have me in again, and to hold their +tongues, for the Count's punishments are not light. But as to Madame's +message—she would have tried to convey it by Brigitte, had I not +declared I would come at all hazards,—for the truth is, I have +something to say on my own responsibility, also."</p> + +<p>"But Madame's message?" I demanded eagerly.</p> + +<p>"She begs that you will go away while you can. So brave a young +gentleman should not stay here to risk the Count's vengeance."</p> + +<p>I felt joy at this concern for my safety.</p> + +<p>"If I am a brave man," I answered, "I can only stay and help her."</p> + +<p>"I am glad you are of that mind, Monsieur, for it is what I think. That +is what <i>I</i> had to say to you."</p> + +<p>"Then the only question is, how can I be of use to the Countess? She +must be released from this imprisonment."</p> + +<p>"There I agree with you again. She ought to be taken away—far out of +reach of the Count's vengeance—before he has time to make her plight +worse than it is, or carry out any design against her life. But even if +she remained as she is, her health would not long endure it."</p> + +<p>"Now that matters have come to this pass, no doubt she is willing to run +away."</p> + +<p>"Not yet, Monsieur. That is for me to persuade her. But if we form some +plan of escape now, I hope I can win her consent before the time comes +to carry it out."</p> + +<p>"I trust so. When she repelled the idea of escape, the day I saw her in +the garden, things had not gone so far. And then she thought there was +no safe place of refuge for her. But I can find a place. And she thought +an attempt must be hopeless because the Count would be swift to pursue. +But if we got some hours' start, going at night—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, certainly it will have to be at night, Monsieur. The Count has the +roads watched from the tower, for some purpose of his own—I think he +expects some enemy."</p> + +<p>"You still have the key to the postern?"</p> + +<p>"It must be where I left it—buried under the rose-bush nearest the +postern itself. But the first thing is, to get out of the room in the +tower."</p> + +<p>"Certainly. It would not be possible for Madame to get out as you have +done—by a disguise, I mean?"</p> + +<p>"No, Monsieur. Brigitte is the only one who comes to us, with whom she +might change clothes. And Madame is not at all of Brigitte's figure—nor +could she mimic Brigitte's walk as I can. She could not act a part in +the slightest degree. And I know that Madame would never consent to go +and leave me behind to bear the Count's wrath. We must all three go +together. Besides Brigitte comes and goes in the daytime, and Madame +must escape at night."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is certain. It is hard to devise a plan in a moment. If I +could think of it over night, and you come to me again to-morrow—but +no, you may not be able to play this same trick again—the guards may +detect you going back."</p> + +<p>"That is true, and I have thought of one plan, though it may be +difficult."</p> + +<p>"Let me hear it, nevertheless."</p> + +<p>"Then listen, Monsieur. First, as to the door of our cell. It is locked +with a key, which the Count himself retains, except when he goes out, as +this afternoon,—it is then entrusted to the seneschal. I know this from +Brigitte, for the key is given to her when she comes to us. She hands it +to the guard on the landing, who opens the door and keeps the key while +she is within. When she leaves us, he locks the door, and she takes the +key back to the Count or seneschal. But in order to release Madame, you +must have that key."</p> + +<p>"And how am I to get it?"</p> + +<p>"After Brigitte's last visit to us before the night we select, she will +give the Count or seneschal, not the real key to our cell, but another +of the same size and general shape—she has access to unimportant keys +about the house. Then she will bring the real key to you."</p> + +<p>"But poor Brigitte!—when the Count investigates in the morning, he will +find she has given him the wrong key."</p> + +<p>Mathilde thought a moment. "No; he will rather suppose you robbed him of +the right key during the night and substituted the other to delay +discovery. He will suspect anything rather than Brigitte, whom he thinks +too great a fool for the least craft; and even if she is accused, she +can play the innocent. I assure you."</p> + +<p>"So much for that, then. There is yet the door of entrance to the +tower."</p> + +<p>"At present it has an old broken key in the lock, which is therefore +useless. But no doubt that will be remedied—so we must act soon. +Meanwhile, that door is guarded by the man at the foot of the stairs."</p> + +<p>"But are the two guards on duty at night also? There is no Brigitte to +be let in and out then. And surely the Count doesn't think you can break +your lock."</p> + +<p>"There are guards on duty, nevertheless. Last night I heard one call +down the stairs to another, asking the time. They are there, no doubt, +not for fear of our breaking out, but for fear of somebody breaking in +to help Madame. I don't suppose there are ever more than two. If the +rule has not been changed, the rest of the household sleeps, except a +porter in the gate-house and a man on top of the tower. But this man +watches the roads, as well as he can in the darkness, and the porter too +is more concerned about people who might want to enter the chateau than +about what goes on inside. So in the dead of night you can go silently +downstairs and let yourself out of the hall—"</p> + +<p>"But is not the hall door locked with a key?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but the key is left always in the lock. You have then only to +cross the two court-yards to the lower, without making any noise to +alarm the porter at the gate-house or to warn the guard at the tower +entrance."</p> + +<p>"Will he be inside or outside the tower door, I wonder?"</p> + +<p>"Probably inside, where there is a bench just at the foot of the stairs. +He and his comrade above will be your only real difficulty, Monsieur. If +you can take them by surprise, one at a time—"</p> + +<p>"One at a time, or two at a time," said I, beginning to walk up and down +the chamber, and grasping my sword and dagger. "But the trouble will be, +the noise that may be made when I encounter them,—it may arouse the +chateau and spoil all."</p> + +<p>"But heaven may grant that you will surprise the men inside the tower, +one at the foot of the stairs, the other on our landing, as they must +have been last night. In that case, if you can keep the fighting inside +the tower, till—"</p> + +<p>"Till they are dead. Yes, in that case, if I am expeditious, no noise +may be heard outside. That is a thing to aim for. If they, or one, +should be outside, I can rush in and so draw them after me. Well, and +when I have done for them—?"</p> + +<p>"Then you have but to unlock our door, and Madame and I will join +you.—You will know our door by there being a stool in the landing +before it—the guard sits there.—Well, then we must fly silently +through the court-yards and the hall, let ourselves out to the +terrace—there are two or three ways I know,—and run through the garden +to the postern. Once out of these walls, we must hurry across the fields +to the house of a certain miller—"</p> + +<p>"Hugues? Yes."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Monsieur. The watchman on the tower will not see us in the fields, +for we shall keep close to the woods till we are at a distance. Hugues +can supply two horses, at least, and you and Madame must be as far away +as possible by daylight."</p> + +<p>"And you, Mathilde?"</p> + +<p>"Unless we can get three horses, I will lie hid at Hugues's mill till +Madame finds time to send for me. It will be suitable enough—Hugues and +I are to be married some day."</p> + +<p>"But I have a horse at the inn at Montoire. If I can get it out at that +hour, you can come with us—to whatever place we may decide upon."</p> + +<p>"As to that place, you may consider in the meanwhile. There will be time +to discuss the matter with Madame when she is escaping with you. The +first thing is, to get as far from Lavardin as possible. And now when is +all this to be done?"</p> + +<p>"The sooner the better, for who knows when the Count may take into his +head some new idea?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, of harm to Madame or to yourself."</p> + +<p>"Why should we not choose this very night?"</p> + +<p>"I see no reason against it—except that I may not be able to persuade +Madame. But yet there will be several hours—and surely heaven will help +me!—Yes, to-night! There is nothing for me to do but persuade Madame, +and see that we are dressed as suitably for travel as the clothes at +hand will permit. But first, before Brigitte comes away, I must instruct +her about the key. At what hour will you come, Monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"As soon as the house is asleep."</p> + +<p>"Fortunately, early hours are kept here, as there is never any company. +But the Count and the Captain stay at their cups till ten or eleven +o'clock."</p> + +<p>"Then by that time they must have drunk enough to make them fall asleep +as soon as they are in bed."</p> + +<p>"And sometimes before they are in bed, I have heard the servants say."</p> + +<p>"Then I will leave my room at half-past eleven, but will make sure that +the hall is dark and empty before I proceed."</p> + +<p>"And may the saints aid you, Monsieur, when you have to do with the men +at the tower!"</p> + +<p>"The men will not be expecting me, that is one advantage," said I, +trying to seem calm, but trembling with excitement. "If all goes well, +we should be out of the chateau soon after midnight."</p> + +<p>"And at Hugues's house before one o'clock. You should be on +horseback—the Countess and you—by half-past one. Have you money, +Monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"Yes,—this purse is nearly as full as when I left home."</p> + +<p>"That is well, for Madame has none, and I don't know how much Hugues +could get together in ten minutes. I have ten crowns in his strong-box, +which Madame shall have."</p> + +<p>"They shall stay in Hugues's strong-box, and his own money too. I have +enough."</p> + +<p>"Then I believe that is all, Monsieur, and I'd better be going back. Be +on the watch for Brigitte with the key. Do you think of anything else?"</p> + +<p>We went hurriedly over the various details of the plan, and then she +took her leave, darting along the passage as swiftly as a greyhound and +as silently as a ghost. I sat down to think upon what I had undertaken, +but my mind was in a whirl. Strangely enough, I, the victor of a single +duel, did not shrink from the idea of killing the two guards—or as many +as there might be. Perhaps this was because they were sure to be rascals +whose lives one could not value very highly, especially as against that +of the Countess. Nor did I feel greatly the odds against me, in regard +both to their number and to my inexperience in such business. Perhaps +the apparent confidence of Mathilde in my ability to dispose of them—a +confidence based on my being a gentleman and they underlings—infected +me. And yet I chose not to go too deeply into the probabilities. My +safest course, for my courage, was not to think too much, but to wait +for the moment and then do my best.</p> + +<p>It seemed but a short time till there was a tap at my door, and in came +the real Brigitte.</p> + +<p>"Mathilde got back safe, Monsieur; she was not detected," she said, and +handed me a large key.</p> + +<p>Ere more could pass, she was gone. I put the key in my breast pocket. It +was now time I should show myself to the Count and his friend at table; +which I proceeded to do, as boldly as if I had entertained no design +against them. They were just back from their ride. It was strange with +what outward coolness I was able to carry myself, by dint of not +thinking too closely on what I had undertaken. For observe that, besides +the immediate task of the night, there was Madame's whole future +involved. And how precipitately Mathilde and I had settled upon our +course, without pausing to consider if some more prudent measures might +not be taken to the same end! But I was hurried by my feeling that I +ought to save Madame, the more because no one could say how far the +present situation was due to my having killed De Merri, and to my advent +at the chateau. Even though she might choose not to escape, it was for +me to give her the opportunity, at least. And to tell the truth, I +longed to see her again, at any cost. As for Mathilde, there were her +pressing fears of a worse fate for her mistress, to excuse her haste. +And we were both young, and thought that any project which goes straight +and smoothly in the telling must go straight and smoothly in the doing; +and we looked not far ahead.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<h3>THE WINDING STAIRS</h3> + + +<p>I left the table early, and went to my room. I tore two strips from the +sheet of my bed, and wrapped them around my boots so as to cover the +soles and deaden my footsteps. Slowly the night came, with stars and a +moon well toward the full. But we could keep in shadow while about the +chateau, and the light would aid our travelling later. At half-past ten +o'clock, the house seemed so still I thought the Count must have gone to +bed before his usual time. I stole noiselessly from my room, feeling my +way; and partly down the stairs. But when I got to the head of the lower +flight, I saw that the hall was still lighted. I peered over the +railing. The Count and the Captain were alone, except for two knaves who +sat asleep on their bench at the lower end of the hall. The Count +lounged limply back in his great chair at the head of the table, +unsteadily holding a glass of wine; and the Captain leaned forward on +the board, narrowly regarding the Count. Both were well gone in wine, +the Count apparently the more so. There was a look of mental torment on +the Count's face.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know, I know," he said, wincing at his own words as if they +pierced him. "There was opportunity enough with that De Merri. I was +blind then. And with this new puppy! Women and lovers have the ingenuity +of devils in devising opportunities. And they both admit their interview +in the garden. But that he could have his way so soon—is that entirely +probable?"</p> + +<p>He looked at the Captain almost beseechingly, as if for a spark of hope.</p> + +<p>The Captain spoke with the calm certainty of wisdom gained through a +world of experience:</p> + +<p>"Young blood is quickly stirred. Young lips are quickly drawn to one +another. Young arms are quick to reach out, and young bodies quick to +yield to them."</p> + +<p>The Count uttered a cry of pain and wrath, his eyes fixed as though upon +the very scene the Captain imagined.</p> + +<p>"The wretches!" said the tortured Count, staggering to his feet. "And I +am the Count de Lavardin!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus4" id="illus4"></a> +<img src="images/illus4.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"'THE WRETCHES!' SAID THE TORTURED COUNT, STAGGERING TO HIS FEET."</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>"The greater nobleman you, the greater conquest for a young nobody to +boast of. It is a fine thought for adventurous youth.—'A great lord, +and a rich, but it is I, an unknown stripling, who really have possessed +what he thinks his dearest treasure.'"</p> + +<p>The Count gave a kind of agonized moan, and went lurching across the +hall, spilling some wine from his glass. "And a man of my years, too!" +he said, with an accent of self-pity.</p> + +<p>"The older the husband, the merrier the laugh at his expense," said the +Captain.</p> + +<p>The Count ground his teeth, and muttered to himself.</p> + +<p>"It is always their boasting that betrays them," went on the Count. +"When I was young, they used to tell of a famous love affair between the +Bussy d'Amboise of that day and the Countess de Montsoreau, wife of the +Grand-huntsman. It came out through Bussy's writing to the King's +brother that he had stolen the hind of the Grand-huntsman. That is how +these young cocks always speak of their conquests.</p> + +<p>"Ah, I remember that. He did the right thing, that Montsoreau! He forced +his false wife to make an appointment with Bussy, and when Bussy came, +it was a dozen armed men who kept the appointment, and the gay lover +died hanging from a window. Yes, that Montsoreau!—but he should have +killed the woman too! The perfidious creatures! Mon dieu!—when I +married her—when she took the vows—she was the picture of fidelity—I +could have staked my soul that she was true; that from duty alone she +was mine always, only mine!"</p> + +<p>He lamented not as one hurt in his love, but as one outraged in his +right of possession and in his dignity and pride. And curiously enough, +his last words caused a look of jealousy to pass across the face of the +Captain. This look, unnoticed by the Count, and speedily repressed, came +to me as a revelation. It seemed to betray a bitter envy of the Count's +mere loveless and unloved right of possession; and it bespoke the +resolve that, if the Captain might not have her smiles, not even her +husband might be content in his rights. Such men will give a woman to +death rather than to any other man. As in a flash, then, I saw his +motive in working upon the Count's insane jealousy. Better the Count +should kill her than that even the Count should possess her. I shuddered +to think how near to murder the Count had been wrought up but a moment +since. At any time his impulse might pass the bounds. I now understood +Mathilde's apprehensions, and saw the need for haste in removing the +Countess far from the power of this madman and his malign instigator.</p> + +<p>The Count, exhausted by his rush of feelings, drained his glass, and +almost immediately gave way to the sudden drowsiness which befalls +drinkers at a certain stage. He staggered to his seat, and fell back in +a kind of daze, the Captain watching him with cold patience. Thinking +they would soon be going to bed, I slipped back to my room.</p> + +<p>A little after eleven, I went forth again. The hall was now dark, and +its silence betokened desertion. I groped my way to the door. The key +turned more noisily than I should have wished, and there was a bolt to +undo, which grated; but I heard no sound of alarm in the house. I +stepped out to the court-yard, closing the door after me. The court-yard +was bathed in moonlight. Keeping close to the house, so as not to be +visible from any upper window, I gained the shadow of the wall +separating the two court-yards. As noiselessly as a cat, I followed that +wall to its gateway; entered the second court-yard, and saw that the +door to the tower was open, a faint light coming from it. The tower +itself, obstructing the moon's rays, threw its shadow across the +paving-stones. I stepped into that shadow, which was only partial; drew +my sword and dagger, and darted straight for the tower entrance, +stopping just inside the doorway. By the light of a lantern hanging +against the wall, I saw a kind of small vestibule, beyond which was an +inner wall, and at one side of which was the beginning of a narrow +spiral staircase, that ran up between walls until it wound out of sight. +On a bench against the inner wall I have mentioned, sat a man, who rose +at sight of me, with one hand grasping a sword, and with the other a +pike that was leaning against the bench.</p> + +<p>He was a heavy, squat fellow, with short, thick legs and short, thick +arms.</p> + +<p>"I give you one chance for your life," said I quickly. "Help me to +escape with your prisoner, and leave the Count's service for mine."</p> + +<p>After a moment's astonishment, the man grunted derisively, and made a +lunge at my breast with his pike. I caught the pike with my left hand, +still holding my dagger therein, and forced it downward. At the same +time I thrust with my rapier, but he parried with his own sword. I +thrust instantly again, and would have pinned him to the wall if he had +not sprung aside. He was now with his back to the stairs, and neither of +us had let go the pike. His sword-point darted at me a second time, but +I avoided, and thrust in return. Not quite ready to parry, he escaped by +falling back upon the narrow stone steps. Before I could attack, he was +on his feet again, and on the second step. We still held to the pike, +which troubled me much, both as an impediment to free sword-play and as +depriving me of the use of my dagger. I suddenly fell back, trying to +jerk it from his grasp; but his grip was too firm. He jerked the pike in +turn, and I let go, thinking the unexpected release might cause him a +fall.</p> + +<p>He did not fall; but I pressed close with sword and dagger before he +could bring the pike to use, and he backed further up the stairs. He +caught the pike nearer the point, that he might wield it better at close +quarters; but the long handle made it an awkward weapon, by striking +against the wall, which continually curved behind him. We were sword to +sword, and against my dagger he had his pike, but the dagger was the +freer weapon for defence though not so far-reaching for attack.</p> + +<p>The man was very strong, but he had the shorter thrust and offered the +broader target. We continued at it, thrust and parry, give and take. All +the time he retreated up the winding staircase, which was so narrow that +we had little elbow room, and this was to his advantage as he needed +less than I. Another thing soon came to his advantage: the stairs curved +out of the light cast by the lantern below, so that he backed into +darkness, yet I was still visible to him. I cannot tell by what sense I +knew where to meet his sword-point, yet certainly my dagger rang against +it each time it would have stung me out of the dark. As for his pike, I +now kept it busy enough in meeting my own thrusts. Whether or not I was +drawn by the knowledge that the Countess was above, I continued to +attack so incessantly, and with such good reach, that my antagonist +still retreated upward. I followed him into the darkness; and then the +advantage was with me, as being slender.</p> + +<p>Hitherto I had offered him my full front, but now I half turned my back +to the wall, so that his blade might scarce find me at all, and that I +might stand less danger of being forced backward off my feet. Well, so +we prodded the darkness with our steel feelers in search of each other's +bodies on those narrow stairs, striking sparks from the stone walls +which our weapons were bound to meet by reason of the continual +curvature.</p> + +<p>At last the broad form of my adversary was suddenly thrown into faint +light by a narrow window in the wall. I staked all upon one swift +thrust. It caught him full in the belly, and ran how far up his body I +know not. With a cry he fell forward, and I was hard put to it to save +my sword and avoid going down with him. But I got myself and my sword +free, and went on up the stairs as fast as I could feel my way.</p> + +<p>In a few moments I heard steps coming from above, and a rough voice +shouting down, "Ho, Gaspard, did you call? What the devil's up?" It was +the other guard, who must have been asleep to have been deaf to the +clash of our weapons, but whom his comrade's death-cry had roused. I +trusted that the walls of the tower had confined that death-cry from the +chateau; fortunately, the narrow window was toward the open fields.</p> + +<p>I stopped where I was. When the man's steps sounded a few feet from me, +I said "Halt!" and, telling him his comrade was dead, proposed the terms +I had offered the latter. There was a moment's silence: then a clicking +sound, and finally a great flash of fiery light with a loud report, and +the smell of smoke. By good luck I had flattened myself against the wall +before speaking, and the charge whizzed past me. Thinking the man might +have another pistol in readiness, I stood still. But he turned and ran +up the stairs. I stumbled after him.</p> + +<p>Presently the stairway curved into light such as we had left at the +bottom. The guard ran on in the light, and finally stepped forth to a +landing no wider than the stairs; where there hung a lantern over a +three-legged stool, beyond which was a door. At sight of this my heart +bounded.</p> + +<p>At the very edge of the landing the man turned and faced me, pointing a +second pistol. As the wheel moved, I dropped forward. The thing missed +fire entirely, and, flinging it down with a curse, the man drew his +sword and seized a pike that stood against the wall. I charged +recklessly up the steps, bending my body to avoid the pike. It went +through my doublet, just under the left armpit. Ere he could disencumber +it I pressed forward upon the landing. I turned his sword with my +dagger, and thrust with my own sword under the pike, piercing his side. +Only wounded, he leaped back, drawing the pike from my clothes. He aimed +at me again with that weapon. In bending away from it, I fell on my +side, but instantly turned upon my back.</p> + +<p>The man moved to stand over me. I let go my sword, and caught the pike +in my hand as it descended. He then tried to spit me with his sword, but +I checked its point with the guard of my dagger. I thought I was near my +end. He had only to draw up his sword for another downward thrust; but +there was a sudden faltering, or hesitation, in his movements, probably +a blindness of his eyes, the effect of his wound. In that instant of his +uncertainty, I swung my dagger around and ran it through his leg. He +fell forward upon me, nearly driving the breath out of my body. My +dagger arm, extended as it had been, was fortunately free. I crooked my +elbow, embraced my adversary, and sank the dagger deep into his back. I +felt his quiver of death.</p> + +<p>After I had rolled his body off me, and sheathed my sword and dagger, I +took out the key and unlocked the door. Inside the vaulted room of +stone, which was lighted by a candle, stood the Countess and Mathilde.</p> + +<p>The Countess, beautiful in her pallor, and looking more angel than woman +in the plain robe of blue that clothed her slight figure, met me with a +face of mingled reproach, pity, and horror. Mathilde was in tears and +utterly downcast. I could see at a glance how matters stood, and ere I +had made two steps beyond the threshold, I stopped, abashed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Monsieur, the blood!" cried the Countess sadly, pointing to my +doublet.</p> + +<p>"It is that of your two guards," I said. "I am not hurt."</p> + +<p>"I am glad you are not hurt. But oh, why did you put this bloodshed upon +your soul?"</p> + +<p>"To save you, Madame."</p> + +<p>"Alas, I know. It is not for me to blame you—but could you think I +would escape—leave the house of my husband—become a fugitive wife?"</p> + +<p>I saw how firm she was in her resolution for all her fragility of body, +and I scarce knew what to say.</p> + +<p>"Madame, think! He is your husband, yes,—but your persecutor. Where you +should have protection, you receive—this." I waved my hand about her +prison. "Where you should find safety, you are in mortal danger."</p> + +<p>"I know all that, Monsieur,—have known it from the first. But shall I +play the runaway on that account? Think what you propose—that I, a +wedded wife, shall fly from my husband's roof with a gentleman who is +not even of kin to me! Then indeed would my good name deserve to +suffer."</p> + +<p>"But Madame, heaven knows, as I do, that you are the truest of wives."</p> + +<p>"Then let me still deserve that title as my consolation, whatever I may +have to endure."</p> + +<p>"But to flee from such indignity as this—such slander—such peril of +death—"</p> + +<p>"It is for me to bear these things," she interrupted, "if he to whom I +vowed myself in marriage inflicts them upon me. If they be wrongs, it is +I who must suffer but not I who must answer to heaven for them! I may be +sinned against, but I will not sin. Though he fail in a husband's duty, +I will not fail in a wife's. Do you not understand, Monsieur, it is not +the things done to us, but the things we do, that we are accountable +for?"</p> + +<p>"But I can see no sin in your fleeing from the evils that beset you +here, Madame."</p> + +<p>"Nay, even if it were not a violation of my marriage vow, it would have +the appearance of sin, and that we are to avoid. And it would be to +throw away my one hope, that my husband's heart may yet be softened, and +his eyes opened to my innocence."</p> + +<p>"Alas! I trust it may turn out a true hope, Madame," said I sadly.</p> + +<p>"Heaven has caused such things to occur before now," she replied. "As +for you, Monsieur, I must never cease to thank you for your chivalrous +intent, as I shall thank my good Mathilde for her devotion. And I will +ever pray for you. And now, if you would make my lot easier—if you +would remove one anxiety from my heart, and give me one solace—you will +leave this chateau immediately. Save yourself, I beg. Monsieur: let +there be no more blood shed on my account, and that blood yours! +Mathilde can let you out at the postern—she knows where the key is +hidden. She tells me you have a horse at Montoire. Go, Monsieur—lose +not another moment—I implore—nay, if you will recognize me as mistress +of this house, I command."</p> + +<p>I bowed low. She offered me her hand: I kissed it.</p> + +<p>"It will not be necessary for Mathilde to come to the postern," said I. +"I know another way out of the chateau. Adieu, Madame!" It was all I +could manage to say without the breaking of my voice. I turned and left +the room, closing the door that the Countess and Mathilde might be +spared the sight of the body on the landing. I then, for a reason, took +the key, leaving the door unlocked. I groped my way down the stairs, +taking care not to trip over the body below. I crossed the court-yards +without any care for secrecy, entered the hall, and sat down upon a +bench near the door.</p> + +<p>When I had told the Countess I knew another way out of the chateau, I +meant only the front gateway. But I did not intend immediately to try +that way. I intended, for a purpose which had suddenly come into my +head, to wait in the hall till morning and be the first to greet the +Count when he appeared.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<h3>MORE THAN MERE PITY</h3> + + +<p>What I stayed to do was something the Countess herself could do, and +probably would do one way or another, if indeed mere circumstances would +not do it of themselves: though I felt that none could as I could. But +to tell the truth, even if I could not have brought myself to turn my +back on that place while she was in such unhappy plight there.</p> + +<p>After I had sat awhile in the hall, I went to my room, lighted a candle, +and cleansed myself and my weapons, and my clothes as well as I could, +of blood. Having put myself to rights, though the rents in my doublet +were still gaping, I went back to the bench in the hall, and passed the +rest of the night there, sleeping and awake by turns.</p> + +<p>At dawn I heard steps and voices in the court-yard as of early risen +dependents starting the day. Silence returned for a few minutes, and +then came the noise of hurrying feet, and of shouts. There was rapid +talk between somebody in the court-yard and somebody at an upper window. +I knew it meant that the bodies of the two guards had been discovered, +doubtless by the men who had gone to relieve them. In a short time, down +the stairs came the Count de Lavardin, his doublet still unfastened, +followed by two body-servants. He came in haste toward the front door, +but I rose and stood in his path.</p> + +<p>"A moment, Monsieur Count. There's no need of haste. You'll find your +prisoner safe enough."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" he asked, having stopped in sheer wonder at my +audacity.</p> + +<p>"Madame the Countess has not flown, though it is true her guards are +slain—I slew them. And Madame the Countess will not fly, though it is +true her prison door is unlocked—I unlocked it—with this key, which I +borrowed from you last night."</p> + +<p>He took the key I handed him, and stared at it in amazement. He then +thrust his hand into his doublet pocket and drew out another key, which +he held up beside the first, looking from one to the other.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said I, "that is a different key, which I left in place of the +right one so that you might not discover the loan too soon."</p> + +<p>He gazed at me with a mixture of fury and surprise, as at an antagonist +whose capacity he must have previously underrated.</p> + +<p>"By the horns of Satan," he exclaimed, "you are the boldest of meddling +imps."</p> + +<p>"I have meddled to good purpose," said I, "though my meddling has not +turned out as I planned. But it has turned out so as to bring you peace +of mind, at least in one respect."</p> + +<p>"What are you talking of?"</p> + +<p>"You see that I possessed myself of that key; that I fought my way to +the prison of the Countess; that I threw open her prison door."</p> + +<p>"And believe me, you shall pay for your ingenuity and daring, my brave +youth."</p> + +<p>"All that was but the beginning of what I was resolved and able to do. I +had prepared our way of escape from the chateau."</p> + +<p>"I am not sure of that."</p> + +<p>"You may laugh with your lips, Count, but I laugh at you in my heart. +Don't think Monsieur de Pepicot is the only man who can get out of the +Chateau de Lavardin."</p> + +<p>The reminder somewhat sobered the Count.</p> + +<p>"I had the means, too," I went on, "to fly with Madame far from this +place. We might indeed have been a half-day's ride away by this time. I +assure you it is true. Let what I have done convince you of what more I +could have done. You don't think I should have gone so far as I have, +unless I was sure of going further, do you?"</p> + +<p>The Count shrugged his shoulders, pretending derision, but he waited for +me.</p> + +<p>"And why did I not go further?" I continued. "Because the Countess would +not. Because she is the truest of wives. Because, when I opened her +door, she met me with a stern rebuke for supposing her capable of flying +from your roof. Ah, Monsieur, it would have set your mind at rest, if +you had heard her. She bows to your will, though it may crush her, +because you are her husband. Never was such pious fidelity to marriage +vows. Her only hope is that your mind may be cleared of its false doubts +of her."</p> + +<p>The Count looked impressed. He had become thoughtful, and a kind of +grateful ease seemed to show itself upon his brow. I was pleasing myself +with the belief that I had thus, in an unexpected way, convinced him of +the Countess's virtue, when a voice at my side broke in upon my +satisfaction. I had so closely kept my attention upon the Count that I +had not observed Captain Ferragant come down the stairs. It was he that +now spoke, in his cool, quiet, scoffing tone:</p> + +<p>"Perhaps the Countess had less faith in this gentleman's power to convey +her safely away than he seems to have had himself. Perhaps she saw a +less promising future for a renegade wife than he could picture to her. +Perhaps she, too, perceived the value of her refusal to run away, as +evidence of virtue in the eyes of a credulous husband."</p> + +<p>The Count's forehead clouded again. I turned indignantly upon the +Captain, but addressed my words to the Count, saying:</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, you will pardon me, but it seems to a stranger that you allow +this gentleman great liberties of speech. Men of honour do not, as a +rule, even permit their friends to defame their wives."</p> + +<p>"This gentleman is in my confidence," said the Count, his grey face +reddening for a moment. "It is you, a stranger as you say, who have +taken great liberties in speaking of my domestic affairs. But you shall +pay for them, young gentleman. Your youth makes your presumption all the +greater, and shall not make your punishment the less. I will trouble +you, Captain, to see that he stays here till I return."</p> + +<p>At this the Count, motioning his attendants to follow, who had stood out +of earshot of our lowered voices, passed on to the court-yard, and +thence, of course, to the prison of the Countess.</p> + +<p>The Captain stood looking at me with that expression of antipathy and +ridicule which I always found it so hard to brook. I had some thought of +defying the Count's last words and walking away to see what the Captain +would do. But I reflected that this course must end in my taking down, +unless I made good a sudden flight from the chateau by the gate; and if +I made that I should be fleeing from the Countess. So the best thing was +to be submissive, and not bring matters, as between the Count and me, to +a crisis. Perhaps a way to help the Countess might yet occur, if I +stayed upon the scene to avail myself of it. And in any case by +continuing there in as much freedom as the Count might choose to allow +me, I might have at least the chance of another sight of her.</p> + +<p>So, while we waited half an hour or so in the hall, I gave the Captain +no trouble, not even that of speech, which he disdained to take on his +own initiative.</p> + +<p>The Count returned, looking agitated, as if he had been in a storm of +anger which had scarce had time to subside. His glance at me was more +charged with hate and menace than ever before. He beckoned the Captain +to the other end of the hall, and there they talked for awhile in +undertones, the Count often shaking his head quickly, and taking short +walks to and fro; sometimes he clenched his fists, or breathed heavy +sighs of irritation, or darted at me a swift look of malevolence and +threat. I could only assume that something had passed between the +Countess and him during his visit to her prison—perhaps she had shown +anxiety as to whether I had fled—which had suddenly quickened and +increased his jealousy of me.</p> + +<p>At last the Count seemed to accept some course advised by his friend. He +came towards me, the Captain following with slower steps. In a dry +voice, well under control, the Count said to me:</p> + +<p>"Permit me to relieve you, Monsieur, of the burden of those weapons you +carry. I am annoyed that you should think it desirable to wear them in +my house, as if it were the road."</p> + +<p>Startled, I put my hands on the hilts of my sword and dagger, and took a +step backward.</p> + +<p>"Your annoyance is somewhat strange, Monsieur," said I, "considering +that you and the Captain wear your swords indoors as well as out. I +thought it was the custom of this house."</p> + +<p>"If so," replied the Count, with his ghastly smile, "it is a custom that +a guest forfeits the benefit of by killing two of my dependents. Come, +young gentleman. Don't be so rude as to make me ask twice."</p> + +<p>The Captain now stepped forward more briskly, his hand on his own sword. +Taking his motion as a threatening one, and scarce knowing what to do, I +drew my weapons upon impulse and presented, not the handles, but the +points. But ere I could think, the Captain's long rapier flashed out, it +moved so swiftly I could not see it, and my own sword was torn from my +grip and sent whirring across the hall. In the next instant, the guard +of the Captain's sword was locked against the guard of my dagger, and +his left hand gripped my wrist. It was such a trick as a fencing master +might have played on a new pupil, or as I had heard attributed to my +father but had never seen him perform. It showed me what a swordsman +that red Captain was, and how much I had yet to learn ere I dared +venture against such an adversary. And there was his bold red-splashed +face close to mine, smiling in derision of my surprise and discomfiture. +He was beginning to exert his strength upon my wrist—that strength +which had choked and flung away the great hound. To save my arm, I let +go my dagger. The Captain put his foot on it till an attendant, whom the +Count had summoned, stooped for it. My sword was picked up by another +man, whereupon, at the Count's command, it was hung upon a peg in the +wall, and the dagger attached to the handle of the sword. The two men +were then ordered to guard me, one at each side. They were burly +fellows, armed with daggers.</p> + +<p>"Well, Monsieur, what next?" said I in as scornful a tone as I could +command.</p> + +<p>"Patience, Monsieur; you will see."</p> + +<p>There was a low, narrow door in the side of the hall, near the front. At +the Count's bidding, an attendant opened this, and I was marched into a +very small, bare room, the ceiling of which was scarce higher than my +head. This apartment had evidently been designed as a doorkeeper's box. +It's only furniture was a bench. A mere eyehole of a window in the +corner looked upon the court-yard.</p> + +<p>"Remember," I called back to the Count, "you cannot put injuries upon me +with impunity. An account will be exacted in due time."</p> + +<p>"Remember, you," he replied with a laugh, "that you have murdered two +men here, and are subject to my sentence."</p> + +<p>My guards left me in the room, and stationed themselves outside the +door, which was then closed upon me. There was no lock to the door, but +it was possible to fasten the latch on the outside, and this was done, +as I presently discovered by trial.</p> + +<p>I sat on the bench, and gazed out upon as much of the court-yard as the +window showed. Suddenly the window was darkened by something placed +against it outside,—a man's doublet propped up by a pike, or some such +device. I could not guess why they should cut off my light, unless as a +mere addition to the tediousness of my restraint. I disdained to show +annoyance, though I might have thrust my arm through the window and +displaced the obstruction. Later I saw the reason: it was to prevent my +seeing who passed through the court-yard.</p> + +<p>It seemed an hour until suddenly my door was flung open. In the doorway +appeared the Captain, beckoning me to come forth. I did so.</p> + +<p>Half-way up the hall, a little at one side, stood the Count. Near him, +and looking straight toward me, sat the Countess in a great arm-chair. +Besides the Captain and myself, those two were the only persons in the +hall. Even my guards had disappeared, and all doors leading from the +hall were shut.</p> + +<p>The Countess, as I have said, was looking straight toward me. Her eyes +had followed the Captain to my door, she wondering what was to come out +of it. For assuredly she had not expected me to come out of it. She had +still trusted that I had gone away in the night—the Count had not told +her otherwise. Her surprise at seeing me was manifest in her startled +look, which was followed by a low cry of compassionate regret.</p> + +<p>The Count had been watching her with a painful intentness. He had not +even turned his eyes to see me enter, having trusted to his ears to +apprise him. At her display of concern, the skin of his face tightened; +though that display was no more than any compassionate lady might have +given in a similar case. Even the Count, after a moment, appeared to +think more reasonably of her demeanour.</p> + +<p>I bowed to her, and stood waiting for what might follow, the Captain +near me.</p> + +<p>The Count, turning toward me for an instant to show it was I he +addressed, but fixing his gaze again upon his wife and keeping it there +while he continued speaking to me, delivered himself thus, with mocking +irony:</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, I will not be so trifling or so churlish as to keep you in +doubt regarding your fate. In this chateau, where the right of doom lies +in me, you have been, by plain evidence and your own confession, guilty +of the murder of two men. As to what other and worse crimes you have +intended, I say nothing. What you have done is already too much. There +is only one sufficient punishment. You may thank me for granting you +time of preparation. I will give you two days—a liberal allowance, you +will admit—during which you shall be lodged in a secure place, where in +solitude and quiet you may put yourself in readiness for death."</p> + +<p>The Countess rose with a cry, "No, no!" Her face and voice were charged +with something so much more than mere compassion, that I forgot my doom +in a wild sweet exultation. At what he perceived, the Count uttered a +fierce, dismayed ejaculation. The Captain looked at once triumphant and +resentful.</p> + +<p>"It is enough!" cried the Count hoarsely. "The truth is clear!"</p> + +<p>He motioned me away, and the Captain pushed me back into the little +room, quickly fastening the door. But my feeling was still one of +ecstasy rather than horror, for still I saw the Countess's tender eyes +in grief for me, still saw her arms reaching out toward me, still heard +her voice full of wild protest at my sentence. It was to surprise her +real feelings that she had been brought to hear, in my presence, my doom +pronounced; and my window had been obstructed that our confrontation +might be as sudden to me as to her, lest by a prepared look I might put +her on her guard. This it was that the Captain had suggested, and +excellently it had served. That moment's revelation of her heart, though +it brought such sweetness into my soul, could only make her fate worse +and my sentence irrevocable.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<h3>THE RAT-HOLE AND THE WATER-JUG</h3> + + +<p>I had not been back in the little room a minute, when it occurred to me +to reach through the window and displace the obstruction. I was in time +to see the Countess escorted back across the court-yard by her husband. +This could mean only that she was again to occupy her prison in the +tower. I was glad at least to know where she was, that I might imagine +her in her surroundings, of which I had obtained so brief a glimpse.</p> + +<p>Presently my door opened slightly, that my breakfast might be passed in +on a trencher; and again an hour later, that the trencher might be taken +out. Soon after that, the door was thrown wide, and a man of some +authority, whom I had already taken to be the seneschal of the chateau, +courteously requested me to step forth. When I did so, he told me my +lodging was ready and bade me follow. At my elbows were two powerful +armed servitors of this strange half-military household, to escort me.</p> + +<p>I had a moment's hope that I might be taken to some chamber in the great +tower; I should thus be nearer the Countess. But such was not the +Count's will. I was conducted to the hall staircase, and up two flights, +thence along the corridor past my former sleeping chamber, and finally +by a small stairway to a sort of loft at that very corner of the chateau +against which the great tower was built.</p> + +<p>It was a small chamber with one window and an unceiled roof that sloped +very low at the sides. I suppose it had been used as a store-room for +rubbish. Two worm-eaten chests were its only furniture. On one of these +were a basin, a jug of water, and a towel. On the other were a blanket, +a sheet, and a pillow. Here then were my bed and wash-stand. There was +still space left on the first chest to serve me as dining-table.</p> + +<p>Before I could find anything to say upon these meagre accommodations for +a gentleman's last lodging in this world, the seneschal bade me +good-day, the door was closed and locked, and I was left to my +reflections. The room not having been designed as a prison, there was no +grilled opening in the door, and I was not exposed to the guard's view.</p> + +<p>The Count might have kept me in my former chamber, thought I, the time +being so short. Perhaps he feared my making a rope of bed clothes and +dropping to the terrace. As for the little room off the hall, it had no +real lock, and the guards might become sleepy at night. But why did he +make this respite of two days? Was it to give himself time for devising +some peculiarly humiliating and atrocious form of death? Or was it mere +ironical pretence of mercy in his justice, and might I be surprised with +the fatal summons as soon as he was in the humour for it? To this day, I +do not clearly know,—or whether he had other matters for his immediate +care; or indeed whether, at the instant of pronouncing my sentence in +order to discover the Countess's feelings, he actually intended carrying +it out.</p> + +<p>In any case, now that her heart had betrayed itself, I had little hope +of mercy. What came nearest to daunting me was the thought that, if I +died, my people might never know for certain what had been my fate, for +the Count would probably keep my death a secret, his own dependents +being silenced by interest and fear. Yet I felt I had no right to +complain of Fate. I had come from home to see danger, and here it was, +though my present adventure was something different from cutting off the +moustaches of Brignan de Brignan. And still my emotions were sweetened +by the sense of what the Countess had disclosed, fatal though that +disclosure might be to her also.</p> + +<p>Such were the materials of my thoughts for the first hour or so, while I +sat on the chest that was to be my bed. But suddenly there came a +sharper consciousness of what death meant, and how closely it threatened +me. I sprang up, to bestir myself in seeking if there might be some +means of escape. The situation had changed since I had willingly +lingered at the chateau in order to be near the Countess. The reluctance +to betake myself from the place where she was, had not diminished; but I +had awakened to the knowledge that my only hope of ever seeing her again +lay in present flight, if that were possible. I could serve her better +living than dead, better free than a prisoner.</p> + +<p>I went to the window, which was wide enough for me to put my head out. +My room was at the top of the building, and only the great tower, partly +visible at my right, rose higher toward the sky. Below me was a narrow +paved space between the house and the outer wall: it ran from the base +of the tower at my right, to the garden, far at the left. Beyond the +wall was the moat: beyond that, the country toward Montoire. If I could +let myself down to the earth by any means, I should still be on the +wrong side of the wall. But I might find the postern key, buried under +the rose bush near the postern itself.</p> + +<p>I looked around the room, but there was nothing that would serve as a +means of descent, except the bedding on the larger chest. This I +examined: it was the scantiest, being merely a strip of blanket and a +strip of sheet, together just sufficient to cover the top of the chest. +With the pillow cover and towel, they would not reach half-way to the +ground.</p> + +<p>Perhaps the chests might contain old clothes, or other materials that +would serve to eke out. I tried the lids, but both were strongly locked. +The larger chest looked very ancient and rotten: its hinges might be +loose. I pulled one end of it out from against the wall, to examine the +back. The hinges were immovable. Despondent, I ran my hand further down +the back at random, and, to my surprise, felt a small irregular hole, +through which I could thrust two fingers. It was evidently a rat hole, +for I saw now that when close to the wall, it must have corresponded to +a chink between the stones thereof.</p> + +<p>My fingers inside the chest came in contact with nothing but rat-bitten +papers, to my sad disappointment. But, having gone so far, I was moved +to continue until I had patiently twisted a few documents out through +the hole. I straightened and glanced at them. The edges were fretted by +the rats. One writing was an account of moneys expended for various +wines; another was a list of remedies for the diseases of horses; but +the third, when I caught its meaning and saw the name signed at the end, +made my heart jump. It was the last page of a letter, and ran thus:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"One thing is certain, by our careful exclusion of fools and +weaklings, our plot is less liable to premature discovery than any +of those which have hitherto been attempted, and, as you say, if we +fail we have but to lock ourselves up in our chateaux till all +blows over, the K. being so busy at present with the Dutch. In that +event, my dear Count, the Chateau de Lavardin is a residence that +some of the rest of us will envy you. Your servant ever,</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Collot d'Arniol</span>."</p></div> + +<p>The name was that of the chief mover of the late conspiracy, who had +paid the penalty of his treason without betraying his accomplices. If +this was indeed his signature, with which the authorities were certainly +acquainted, the scrap of paper, were I free to carry it to Paris, would +put the life of the Count de Lavardin in my hands.</p> + +<p>To be possessed of such a weapon—such a means of rescuing the Countess +from her fearful situation—and yet lack freedom wherein to use it, was +too vexing for endurance. I resolved, rather than wait inactively for +death with that weapon useless, to employ the most reckless means of +escape. Meanwhile I pocketed the fragment of letter, and thrust the +other papers back into the chest, which I then pushed to its former +place.</p> + +<p>After thinking awhile, I poured the water from the heavy earthen jug +into the basin. I then sat down on the large chest, leaning forward, +elbows upon knees, my head upon my hands, the empty jug beside me as if +I had lazily left it there after drinking from it. In this attitude I +waited through a great part of the afternoon, until I began to wonder if +the Count was not going to send me any more food that day.</p> + +<p>At last, when the sun was low, I heard my lock turned, the door opened +into the room, and one of my new guards entered with a trencher of bread +and cold meat. With the corner of my eye, I saw that nobody was +immediately outside my door; so I assumed that my other guard, if there +were still two, was stationed at the foot of the short flight of stairs +leading to my room. The man with the food, having cast a look at me as I +sat in my listless attitude, passed me in order to put the trencher on +the other chest, which was further from the door.</p> + +<p>The instant his back was toward me, I silently grasped the earthen jug, +sprang after him, and brought the jug down upon the back of his head +with all my strength while he was leaning forward to place the trencher. +He staggered forward. I gave him a second blow, and he sprawled upon the +chest, which stopped his fall.</p> + +<p>I ran to the open door, pushed it almost shut, and waited behind it, the +jug raised in both hands. My blows and the guard's fall had not been +without noise.</p> + +<p>"Hola! what's that?" cried somebody outside and a little below. I gave +no answer, and presently I heard steps rapidly mounting to my door. Then +the door was lightly pushed, but I stopped it; whereupon the head of my +other guard was thrust in through the narrow opening. Down came my jug, +and the man dropped to his hands and knees, in the very act of drawing +his weapons. I struck him again, laying him prostrate. Then I dragged +him into the room, and tried to wrest his dagger from his grasp. Finding +this difficult, I ran back to the first guard, took his dagger from its +sheath as he was beginning to come to, wielded my jug once more to delay +his awakening, and, stepping over the second man's body, passed out of +the room. The man with the trencher had left the key in the lock. I +closed the door and turned the key, which I put in my pocket. I then +hastened down the stairs, fled along the deserted passage, descended the +main stairway to the story below, traversed without a moment's pause the +rooms leading to the picture gallery, crossed that and found the door at +the end unlocked, ran down the stairs of the Countess's former +apartments, unlocked the door to the garden, and sped along the walk +toward the postern. In all this, I had not seen a soul: I was carried +forward by a bracing resolve to accomplish my escape or die in +attempting it, as well as by an inspiriting faith in the saying of the +Latin poet that fortune favours the bold, and by a feeling that for me +everything depended on one swift, uninterrupted flight.</p> + +<p>I gained the postern; fell on my knees by the nearest rose bush, and, +choosing a spot where the soil swelled a little, dug rapidly with the +dagger, throwing the earth aside with my hand. In my impatience, much +time seemed to go: I feared that here at last I was stayed: great drops +fell from my brow upon my busy hands: I trembled and could have wept for +vexation. But suddenly my dagger struck something hard, and in a moment +I grasped the key. It opened the lock. I stood upon the ledge outside, +and re-locked the door; then dashed across the plank over the moat, and +made for the forest.</p> + +<p>I had no time to spare. My guards might be already returned to +consciousness and doing their best to alarm the house from within their +prison. Bloodhounds might soon be on my track. I ran along the edge of +the forest, therefore, which covered my movements till I was past the +village of St. Outrille, close to Montoire. I then altered my pace to a +walk, lest a running figure in the fields might attract the notice of +the Count's watchman on the tower; and, going in the lurching manner of +a rustic, came to a road by which I crossed the river and gained the +town. I entered the inn, sought the host, and called for my bill, +baggage, and horse.</p> + +<p>The innkeeper did not recognize me at first, and, when he did, showed +great wonder and curiosity at my absence. He was inclined to be +friendly, though, and, when he perceived I was in haste, did not delay +my departure with inquisitive talk. I saw that my horse had been +properly cared for in my absence, and was glad to be on its back again, +the more because I should thus leave no further scent for bloodhounds to +follow.</p> + +<p>I rode out of the archway and turned my horse toward the road for Les +Roches and Paris. As I crossed the square, I could not help glancing +over my right shoulder toward the Lavardin road. In doing so, I happened +to see a young man coming out of the church, whose face I knew. I +thought a moment, then reined my horse around to intercept him, and, as +he was about to pass, said in a low voice:</p> + +<p>"Good evening, Hugues."</p> + +<p>He stopped in surprise, recalling my features but not my identity. I +leaned over my horse's neck, and spoke in an undertone:</p> + +<p>"You will remember I met you on your way back from Sablé, whither you +had carried a certain lady's message. I have since heard of you from +that lady. She is in a most unhappy plight, and so is her maid +Mathilde."</p> + +<p>The young miller turned pale at this.</p> + +<p>"I have just escaped from the chateau," I continued, "where the Count +meant to kill me. I am going as fast as possible to Paris, where I can +use means to render him powerless. But that will take time, and +meanwhile the worst may befall the Countess—and no doubt her faithful +Mathilde also. They are imprisoned in the tower. I thank God I have met +you, for now there is one friend here to whose solicitude I may leave +that unfortunate lady and her devoted maid while I am away."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur," said he, with deep feeling, "I know no reason why you should +play a trick on me, and you don't look as if you were doing so. I will +trust you, therefore. But can you not come to my house, where we can +talk fully?"</p> + +<p>"Where is your house?"</p> + +<p>"About a quarter of a league down that road." He pointed toward the road +that ran northward from the square, as my road ran northeastward. "When +you are ready to go on, you can get the Paris road by a lane, without +coming back to the town."</p> + +<p>There were good reasons against my losing any time before starting for +Paris. But it was well, on the other hand, for Hugues to know exactly +how matters stood at the chateau. I put my reasons hastily to him, and +he said he could promise me a safe hiding-place at his mill. And I could +travel the faster in the end for a rest now, which I looked as if I +needed,—in truth, I had slept little and badly in the hall the previous +night, and the day's business had told upon me. So, perhaps most because +it was pleasant to be with a trusty companion who shared my cause of +anxiety, I agreed to go to his house for supper, and to set out after +night-fall.</p> + +<p>"Good!" said Hugues. "Then you had best ride ahead, Monsieur, so we are +not seen together. You can leave me now as if you had been merely asking +your way. If you ride slowly when you are out of the town, I shall catch +up."</p> + +<p>I did as he suggested, and he soon overtook me on the road. His house +proved to be a cottage of good size built against a mill, with a small +barn at one side of the yard and a stable at the other. When I had +dismounted at his door, we unsaddled and unbridled my horse, so that it +might pass for a new horse of his own if pursuers looked into his +stable. He then called his boy and his woman-servant, and told them what +to say if anybody came inquiring. We carried my saddle, bridle, and +portmanteau through the cottage to the mill, and thence to a small +cellar which was reached by means of a well-concealed trap-door in the +mill-floor. This cellar should be my refuge in case the Count's men came +there seeking me.</p> + +<p>"I made this hiding-place," said Hugues, moving his candle about to show +how well floored and walled it was, "because one could never say when +Mathilde, living in that fearful chateau, might want a place to fly to. +She would not leave her mistress, you know, though the Countess's other +women went gladly enough when the Count sent them off. Nobody knows +there is anything between Mathilde and me, Monsieur,—except the +Countess. It is safer so. We have been waiting for the Count to die, so +that all might be well with the Countess, for Mathilde could marry me +then with easy mind."</p> + +<p>"I hope that God will send that time soon," said I.</p> + +<p>"But meanwhile, this present danger?" said Hugues.</p> + +<p>We returned to the living-room of the cottage, and talked of the matter +while we had supper. I told Hugues everything, misrepresenting only so +far as to make it appear that the Count's jealousy was still entirely +unfounded, and that he had mistaken the Countess's feelings at our +confrontation. Whatever Hugues may have thought upon this last point, he +made no comment thereon; but he showed the liveliest sense of the +increased danger in which the Countess stood. He feared that my escape +would make her position still worse, and that her hours might be already +numbered. He considered there was not time for me to go to Paris and +return: the Countess's rescue ought to be attempted promptly, or the +attempt would be too late.</p> + +<p>In all this, he but echoed the feeling that had come back to me with +double force while I told him the situation. But there was the +Countess's determination not to flee. Hugues said that as this +determination must be overcome for the Countess's own sake, any pressure +that could be brought to bear upon her feelings would be justifiable. +Let it be urged upon her that if she persisted in waiting for death, +Mathilde's life also would doubtless be sacrificed; let every argument, +every persuasion be employed; let me beseech, let me reproach, let me +even use imperative means if need be. Suddenly, as he talked, I saw a +way by which I thought she might be moved. It was one chance, but enough +to commit me to the effort.</p> + +<p>The question now was, how to communicate with the Countess, and to +accomplish the rescue. This Hugues and I settled ere we went to bed. I +slept that night in the mill, by the trap-door. Hugues lay awake, +listening for any alarm. None came, and in the morning we agreed that +either the Count had elected not to seek me at all, or had traced me to +the inn, and, learning I had taken horse, supposed I was far out of the +neighbourhood. I stayed indoors all that day, while Hugues was absent in +furtherance of our project, the woman and boy being under strict orders +as to their conduct in the event of inquiries. In the evening Hugues +returned with various acquisitions, among them being a sword for me, and +a long rope ladder, both obtained at Troo.</p> + +<p>We awaited the fall of night, then set out. I upon my horse, Hugues +riding one of his and leading the other. We went by obscure lanes, +crossed the river, gained the forest, and lingered in its shades till +the church clock of Montoire struck eleven. We then proceeded through +the forest, near the edge, till we were behind the Chateau de Lavardin.</p> + +<p>Besides the rope-ladder, we had with us a cross-bow that Hugues owned, a +long slender cord, and a paper on which I had written some brief +instructions during the afternoon.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<h3>THE ROPE LADDER</h3> + + +<p>The night was starlit, though the moon would come later. We hoped to be +away from the chateau before it rose. There was a gentle breeze, which +we rather welcomed as likely to cover what little noise we might make.</p> + +<p>Leaving our horses tied in the forest, and taking the cross-bow and +other things, we stole along the moat skirting the Western wall, till we +were opposite the great tower. It rose toward the sky, sheer from the +black water that separated us from it by so few yards. We gazed upward, +and I pointed out the window which I thought, from its situation, must +be that of the Countess, if she still occupied her former prison.</p> + +<p>Our first plan depended upon her still occupying that prison, or some +other with an unbarred window in that side of the tower; and upon her +being still accompanied by Mathilde.</p> + +<p>If the man on top of the tower were to look down now, thought I! We had +considered that chance. It was not likely he would come to the edge of +the tower and look straight down. His business apparently was to watch +the road at a distance and in both directions. He could do this best +from the Northeastern part of the tower. From what I knew now, I could +guess why the Count had stationed him there: a conspirator never knows +when he is safe from belated detection and a visit of royal guards. This +accounted also, perhaps as much as the Count's jealousy, for his +inhospitality to strangers, and for the half-military character of his +household.</p> + +<p>Hugues uttered a bird-call, which had been one of his signals to +Mathilde in their meetings. We waited, looking up and wishing the night +were blacker. He repeated the cry.</p> + +<p>Something faintly whitish appeared in the dark slit which I had taken to +be the Countess's window. It was a face.</p> + +<p>"Mathilde," whispered Hugues to me.</p> + +<p>Keeping his gaze upon her, he held up the cross-bow for her notice; then +the bolt, to which we had attached the slender cord. Next, before +adjusting the bolt, he aimed the unbent bow at her window: this was to +indicate what he was about to do. Then he lowered the bow, and looked at +her without further motion, awaiting some sign of understanding from +her. She nodded her head emphatically, and drew it in.</p> + +<p>Hugues fitted the string and the bolt, raised the bow, and stood +motionless for I know not how many seconds; at last the string twanged; +the bolt sang through the air. It did not fall, nor strike stone, and +the cord remained suspended from above: the bolt had gone through the +window.</p> + +<p>"Good!" I whispered in elation; and truly Hugues deserved praise, for he +had had to allow both for the wind and for the cord fastened to the +bolt.</p> + +<p>The cord was soon pulled upward. Our end of it was tied to the rope +ladder, which Hugues unfolded as it continued to be drawn up by +Mathilde. At the junction of cord and ladder was fixed the paper with +instructions. Mathilde could not overlook this nor mistake its purpose. +When the ladder was nearly all in the air, its movement ceased. We knew +then that Mathilde had the other end of it. Presently the window became +faintly alight.</p> + +<p>"They have lighted a candle, to read the note," I whispered.</p> + +<p>Hugues kept a careful hold upon our end of the ladder, to which there +was fastened another cord, shorter and stronger than the first. My note +gave instructions to attach the ladder securely to a bed, or some other +suitable object, which, if movable, should then be placed close to the +window, but not so as to impede my entrance. It announced my intention +of visiting the Countess for a purpose of supreme importance to us both. +When the ladder was adjusted, a handkerchief should be waved up and down +in the window.</p> + +<p>"The Countess surely will not refuse to let me come and say what I have +to," I whispered, to reassure myself after we had waited some time.</p> + +<p>"Surely not, Monsieur. She does not know yet what it is," replied +Hugues.</p> + +<p>At that moment the handkerchief waved in the window.</p> + +<p>Hugues drew the ladder taut and braced himself. I grasped one of the +rounds, found a lower one with my foot, and began to mount. The ladder +formed, of course, an incline over the moat. When I had ascended some +way, Hugues, as we had agreed, allowed the ladder to swing gradually +across the moat and hang against the tower, he retaining hold of the +cord by which to draw the lower end back at the fit time. I now climbed +perpendicularly, close to the tower. It was a laborious business, +requiring great patience. Once I ran my eyes up along the tall tower and +saw the stars in the sky; once I looked down and saw them reflected in +the moat: but as these diversions made my task appear the longer, and +had a qualmish effect upon me, I thereafter studied only each immediate +round of the ladder as I came to it. As I got higher, I felt the wind +more; but it only refreshed me. Toward the end I had some misgiving lest +the ladder should lie too tight against the bottom of the window for me +to grasp the last rounds. But this fear proved groundless. Mathilde had +placed a pillow at the outer edge of the sill, for the ladder to run +over; and I had no sooner thrust my hand into the window than it was +caught in a firm grasp and guided to the proper round. Another step +brought my head above the sill: at the next, I had two arms inside the +long, shaft-like opening; my body followed, as Mathilde's receded. I +crawled through; lowered myself, hands and knees, to the couch beneath; +leaped to the floor, and kneeling before the Countess, kissed her hand.</p> + +<p>She was standing, and her dress was the same blue robe in which I had +seen her in the same room two nights before. The candle was on a small +table, which held also an illuminated book and an image of the Virgin, +and above which a crucifix hung against the wall. Besides the bed at the +window, there were another bed, a trunk, a chair, and a three-legged +stool.</p> + +<p>The Countess's face was all anxiety and question.</p> + +<p>"Thank God you are still safe!" said I.</p> + +<p>"And you!" she replied. "Brigitte told us you had escaped. I had prayed +your life might be saved. But now you put yourself in peril again. I had +hoped you were far away. Oh, Monsieur, what is it brings you back to +this house of danger?"</p> + +<p>"My going has surely made it a house of greater danger to you. It is a +marvel the Count has not already taken revenge upon you for my escape. I +thank God I am here while you still live."</p> + +<p>"My life is in God's hands. Was it to say this that you have risked +yours again, Monsieur? Oh, your coming here but adds to my sorrow."</p> + +<p>"Hear what sorrow you will cause, Madame, if you refuse to be saved +while there is yet time. I ask you to consider others. Below, waiting +for us, is Hugues, who has enabled me to come here to-night. You know +how that good brave fellow loves Mathilde. And you know that if you die, +Mathilde will share your fate, for the Count will wish to give his own +story of your death."</p> + +<p>"But Mathilde must not stay to share my fate. She must go away with you +now, while there is opportunity."</p> + +<p>"I will not stir from your side, Madame,—they will have to tear me away +when they come to kill you," said Mathilde, and then to me, "They have +not sent Madame any food to-day. I think the plan is to starve us."</p> + +<p>"Horrible!" I said. "That, no doubt, is because of my escape. But who +knows when the Count, in one of the rages caused by his fancies, may +turn to some method still more fearful. Madame, how can you endure this? +Why, it is to encourage his crime, when you might escape!"</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, you cannot tempt me with sophistries. What God permits—"</p> + +<p>"Has not God permitted me to come here, with the means of escape? Avail +yourself of them—see if God will not permit that."</p> + +<p>"We know that God permits sin, Monsieur, for his own good reasons. It is +for us to see that we are not they to whom it is permitted."</p> + +<p>"But can you think it a sin to save yourself?"</p> + +<p>"It is always a sin to break vows, Monsieur. And now—to go with you, of +all men—would be doubly a sin." She had lowered her voice, and she +lowered her eyes, too, and drew slightly back from me.</p> + +<p>"Then go with Hugues, Madame," said I, my own voice softened almost to a +whisper. "Only let me follow at a little distance to see that you are +safe. And when you are safe, finally and surely, I will go away, and we +shall be as strangers."</p> + +<p>Tears were in her eyes. But she answered:</p> + +<p>"No, Monsieur; I should still be a truant wife—still a breaker of vows +made to the Church and heaven."</p> + +<p>"Then you would rather die, and have poor Mathilde die after +you—Mathilde, who has no such scruples?"</p> + +<p>"Mathilde must go away with you to-night. I command her—she will not +disobey what may be the last orders I shall ever give her."</p> + +<p>"Madame, I have never disobeyed yet, but I will disobey this time. I +will not leave you." So said Mathilde, with quiet firmness.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Mathilde, it is unkind, unfair! You will save yourself for Hugues's +sake."</p> + +<p>"I will save myself when you save yourself, Madame; not before."</p> + +<p>The Countess sank upon the chair, and turning to the Virgin's image, +said despairingly:</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mother of heaven, save this child from her own fidelity!"</p> + +<p>"It is not Mathilde alone that you doom," I now said, thinking it time +to try my last means. "It is not only that you will darken the life of +poor Hugues. There is another who will not leave Lavardin if you will +not: one who will stay near, sharing your danger; and who, if you die, +will seek his own death in avenging you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Monsieur!" she entreated. "I was so glad to learn you had +escaped. Do not rob me of that consolation. Do not stay at Lavardin. +Live!—live and be happy, for my sake. So brave—so tender—the world +needs you; and you must not die for me—I forbid you!"</p> + +<p>"You will find me as immovable as Mathilde," said I.</p> + +<p>She looked from one to the other of us, and put forth her hands +pleadingly; then broke down into weeping.</p> + +<p>"Oh, will you make my duty the harder?" she said. "God knows I would +gladly die to save you."</p> + +<p>"It is not dying that will save us. The only way is to save yourself."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, you shall not drive me to sin by your temptations! Heaven +will save you both in spite of yourselves. That will be my reward for +putting this sin from me."</p> + +<p>"You persist in calling it a sin, Madame: very well. But is it not +selfish to go free from sin at the expense of others? If one can save +others by a sin of one's own, is it not nobler to take that sin upon +one's soul? Nay, is it not the greater sin to let others suffer, that +one's own hands may be clean?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you tempt me with worldly reasoning, Monsieur. Kind mother of +Christ," she said, fixing her eyes upon the image of Mary, "what shall I +do? Be thou my guide—speak to my soul—tell me what to do!"</p> + +<p>After a moment, the Countess again turned to me, still perplexed, +agitated, unpersuaded.</p> + +<p>"Madame," said I, "when one considers how soon the Count de Lavardin +must surely suffer for crimes of which you know nothing, your death at +his hands seems the more grievous a fate. Do you know that he is a +traitor?—that his treason will soon be known to the King's ministers? +If his jealousy had only waited a short while, or if my discovery had +occurred a little earlier, his death would have spared you all this. But +now, if you are not starved or slain before he is arrested, he will +surely kill you when he finds himself about to be taken.—My God, I had +not thought of that when I resolved to go to Paris at once! Oh, Madame, +fly now while there is chance! I assure you that doom is hovering over +the Count's head; if you stay here, I cannot go to Paris; but Hugues +shall go with this paper in my stead."</p> + +<p>"What is the paper, Monsieur? What do you mean by this talk of the Count +and treason?" she asked in sheer wonder.</p> + +<p>"It is a proof of the Count's participation in the late conspiracy. I +found it in the room where I was imprisoned. And come what may, I will +see that it goes to Paris for the inspection of the Duke de Sully. And +then there will be a short shrift for the Count de Lavardin, I promise +you."</p> + +<p>"But in that case, it would be you that caused his death, Monsieur!" she +exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"The executioner would cause his death—and the law. I should be but the +humble instrument of heaven to bring it to pass."</p> + +<p>"But you would be the instrument of my husband's death, Monsieur! That +must not be. You, of all men! No, no. Why, it would be an eternal +barrier between us—in thought and kind feeling, I mean,—in the next +world too. Oh, no; you must not use that paper, nor cause it to be +used."</p> + +<p>"But, Madame, he is a traitor. What matters it whether I or another—it +is only justice—my duty to the King."</p> + +<p>"But you do not understand. I should not dare even pray for you! And I +must not let you denounce him—I must prevent your using that paper. I +am his wife, Monsieur,—I must prevent. Otherwise, I should be +consenting to my husband's death!"</p> + +<p>"He has no scruples about consenting to yours, Madame."</p> + +<p>"The sin is on his part, then, not on mine. Come, Monsieur, you must let +me destroy that paper." She advanced toward me.</p> + +<p>"No, Madame; not I. Nay, I will use force to keep it, if need be! It is +my one weapon, my one means of vengeance." I tore my wrist from her +hand, and put the paper back into my inner pocket.</p> + +<p>"Then, Monsieur, I have said my last to you. I must put you out of my +thoughts, out of my prayers even. And if I find means, I must warn my +husband."</p> + +<p>"Listen, Madame. There is one condition upon which I will destroy this +paper and keep silence."</p> + +<p>She uttered a joyful cry. I knew that what she thought of was not her +husband's fate, but the barrier she had mentioned.</p> + +<p>"It is that you will escape with me at once," I said.</p> + +<p>The joy passed out of her face; but she was silent.</p> + +<p>"Consider," I went on. "Not merely your own life, not merely mine, not +merely Mathilde's, and the happiness of Hugues: it is in your power to +save your husband's life also, and to save his soul from the crime of +your murder, if there be any degree between act and intent. Is it not a +sin and a folly to refuse? Think of the blood already shed by reason of +this matter. Why should there be more?"</p> + +<p>At last she wavered. I turned to Mathilde, to speak of the order in +which we should descend the ladder.</p> + +<p>At that instant I heard the key begin to grate in the lock.</p> + +<p>"Some one is coming in!" whispered the Countess in alarm.</p> + +<p>Instantly I pushed Mathilde upon the couch beneath the window, in a +sitting posture, so that her body would conceal the end of the rope +ladder. The next moment I had pulled the other bed a little way out from +the wall, and was crouching behind it.</p> + +<p>The door opened, and I heard the noise of men entering with heavy tread. +Then the door closed. There was a sound of swift movement, then a scream +from Mathilde and a terrified cry from the Countess, both voices being +suddenly silenced at their height. I raised my head, and saw two +powerful men in black masks, one of whom was grasping the Countess by +the throat with his left hand while, with his right assisted by his +teeth, he was endeavouring to pass a looped cord around her neck. The +other man had both hands about the neck of Mathilde, that he might +sufficiently overpower her to apply a similar cord.</p> + +<p>I leaped over the bed, and upon the man who was trying to strangle the +Countess. Mad to save and avenge her, I sank my dagger into the back of +his shoulder, and he fell without having seen who had attacked him. The +murderer who was struggling with Mathilde immediately turned from her +and drew sword to attack me, at the same time crying out, "Garoche, to +the rescue!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus5" id="illus5"></a> +<img src="images/illus5.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"I LEAPED OVER THE BED, AND UPON THE MAN WHO WAS TRYING TO STRANGLE THE COUNTESS."</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>As I could not get the dagger out of the other man's shoulder joint in +time, I drew my sword, and parried my new antagonist's thrust. The door +now opened, and in came another man with drawn sword, not masked: he +was, I suppose, the man on guard on the landing. Seeing how matters +stood, he joined in the attack upon me. I backed into a corner, knocking +over the chair of the Countess, who had run to Mathilde. The two women +stood clasping each other, in terror. Suddenly my first assailant cried, +"I leave him to you for a moment, Garoche," and ran and transferred the +key from the outside to the inside of the door, which he then closed, so +as to lock us all in. This was doubtless to prevent the exit of the +Countess and Mathilde, the purpose being to keep the night's doings in +that room as secret as possible even from the rest of the household. +This man then pocketed the key, and, while Garoche continued to keep me +occupied in my corner, ran to a side of the cell and began working with +an iron wedge at a stone in the floor. He soon raised this, showing it +to be a thin slab, and left exposed a dark hole. He then turned to the +Countess, seized her around the waist, and tried to drag her toward the +opening. His instructions had been, no doubt, to slay the women without +bloodshed and drop the bodies through this secret aperture, but the +unexpected turn of affairs had made him decide to precipitate the end +and not strangle them first. Wild with horror at the prospect of their +meeting so hideous a death, I sprang into the air, and ran my sword +straight into the panting mouth of Garoche, so that the point came out +at the back of his neck. He dropped, and I disengaged my weapon barely +in time to check the onslaught of the other man, who, seeing Garoche's +fate, had left the Countess and come at me again. I was out of breath +after the violent thrusts I had made, and a mist now clouded my eyes. I +know not how this last contest would have gone, had not Mathilde, +recovering her self-command, drawn the sword of the man who had fallen +first, and, holding it with both hands, pushed it with all her strength +into my adversary's back.</p> + +<p>I wiped my weapons on the clothes of the slain murderers. The Countess +fell on her knees and thanked heaven for our preservation. I then went +to the opening made by the removal of the stone slab: peering down, I +could see nothing. I took the key of the door from the pocket of its +last holder, and dropped it through the hole, while the Countess and +Mathilde leaned over me, listening. Some moments passed before we heard +anything; then there came the sound of the key striking mud in the black +depths far below. The secret shaft, then, led to the bottom of the +tower.</p> + +<p>The Countess shuddered, and whispered: "Come, let us not lose a moment."</p> + +<p>I first lifted the masks, and recognized the murderers as fellows I had +seen lounging in the court-yard. Then I gave directions for descending +the ladder. I should have preferred being the last to leave the room but +that I thought it necessary to support the Countess in her descent and +Mathilde firmly refused to precede us. As the ladder might not hold the +weight of three, Mathilde would see us to the ground, and then follow.</p> + +<p>Two could not go out of the window at once, so I backed through first, +and waited when my feet were planted on the ladder, my breast being then +against the edge of the window sill. Madame followed me. I guided her +feet with one hand, and placed them on the ladder, having descended just +sufficiently to make room for her. I then lowered myself another round, +and she, holding on to a round in the window shaft with one hand, +grasped the first round outside with the other, emerged entirely from +the opening, and let me guide her foot a step lower. We then proceeded +downward in this manner, I holding my head and body well back from the +ladder so that her feet were usually on a level with my breast: thus if +she showed any sign of weakness, I could throw an arm around her. I had +first thought of having her clasp me around the neck, and so descending +with her, but once upon the ladder, I saw no safe way for her to get +behind me, or indeed to turn from facing the ladder. So we came down as +I say, while I kept as well as I could between her and the possibility +of falling. Frequently I asked in a whisper if all was well with her, +and she answered yes.</p> + +<p>When we were near the moat, I felt the ladder move from the wall and +knew that Hugues was drawing it toward him. I warned the Countess of our +change from a vertical to an inclined position, and so we were swung +across, and found ourselves above solid earth, on which we presently set +foot.</p> + +<p>"Best take Madame the Countess to the horses while I wait for Mathilde," +whispered Hugues to me, letting the ladder swing back; but Madame would +not go till the maid was safe beside us. Mathilde, who had watched our +descent, now drew her head in, and speedily we saw her feet emerge in +its stead. She came down the ladder with ease and rapidity, such were +her strength and self-possession. As soon as she touched the ground, +Hugues swung back the ladder to stay, and took up his cross-bow.</p> + +<p>"Come," I whispered, and we turned our backs to that grim tower and +hastened along the moat to the forest, passing on the way the high gable +window of what had been my prison, the postern which I had such good +reason to remember, and the oak from which I had seen Hugues display the +handkerchief. Scarce a word was spoken till we came to the horses. I +assisted the Countess to mount one of Hugues's two, she making no +difficulty about accommodating herself to a man's saddle. By that time +Hugues and Mathilde were on his second horse. I got upon my own, and we +started. Our immediate purpose was to go to Hugues's house by the woods +and lanes, fording the river below Montoire.</p> + +<p>As we came out of the forest, beyond St. Outrille, the moon rose, and +against the luminous Eastern sky we could see the dark tower we had left +behind,—tower of blood and death, on which I hoped never to set eyes +again.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + +<h3>THE PARTING</h3> + + +<p>We hoped to be at Hugues's house before the Countess's flight should be +discovered. Hugues and I discussed the chances as we rode. The Count +would probably give his murderous agents ample time before going to see +why they did not come to report the deed accomplished. He would then +lose many minutes in breaking into the cell, and again in questioning +the watchman on the tower—who could not have seen us in the woods and +distant lanes—and considering what to do. The bloodhounds would +doubtless be put upon the Countess's scent, but they would lose it at +the place where we had taken horse. And then, Hugues thought, having +tracked us into the forest, the Count would assume that we had continued +our flight through it without change of direction, and he would push on +to St. Arnoult, and along the road to Chateaurenault and Tours. This +was, indeed, the most likely supposition. The Count would scarce expect +to find us harboured in any house in the neighbourhood, and he knew +nothing of Hugues's attachment to Mathilde. Still I thought it well that +the Countess should travel on as far as possible that night, and I asked +her if she felt able to do so after stopping at Hugues's house for some +food.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," she answered compliantly.</p> + +<p>I then broke to her that Hugues's and I had provided a suit of boy's +clothes which she might substitute for her present attire at his house, +and so travel with less likelihood of attracting notice. To this she +made no objection. She seemed, on leaving the chateau, to have resigned +herself, almost languidly, to guidance. A kind of listlessness had come +over her, which I attributed to exhaustion of spirit after all she had +experienced.</p> + +<p>I then told her that Hugues and I had decided it best that Mathilde +should stay at his house for the present, keeping very close and having +the hiding-place accessible, while I went on with the Countess. Hugues +himself, who could entirely trust his old woman-servant and his boy, +would see us as far as to our first resting-place.</p> + +<p>To these proposals also she said "Very well," in a tone of +half-indifference, but she cast a long, sad look at Mathilde, at mention +of leaving her.</p> + +<p>"And then, Madame," I went on, "as to our journey after we leave +Hugues's house. You have said you are without relations or fortune."</p> + +<p>"Alas, yes. A provision for life-maintenance at the convent was all the +fortune left me."</p> + +<p>"In that case, I ask you, in the name of my father and mother, to honour +them as their guest at La Tournoire. I can promise you a safe and +private refuge there: I can promise you the friendship of my mother, the +protection of my father, and his good offices with the King, if need be, +to secure your rightful claims when the Count de Lavardin dies, as he +must before many years."</p> + +<p>"No, no, Monsieur, I shall have no claims. The Count married me without +dowry, and if there be any other claims I surrender them. As for your +generous offer, I cannot think of accepting it. You and I are soon to +separate, and must not see each other again."</p> + +<p>"But, Madame, I need not be at La Tournoire while you are there. I shall +be out in the world, seeking honour and fortune."</p> + +<p>"No, Monsieur, it is not to be thought of. My only refuge is the convent +from which the Count took me."</p> + +<p>"But is it safe to go there? Have you not said yourself that the Count +would take measures to intercept you on the way?"</p> + +<p>"But you and Hugues just now agreed that the Count would probably seek +me on the road to Chateaurenault. That is in the opposite direction to +the convent, which is beyond Chateaudun."</p> + +<p>"But the Count may seek toward the convent when he fails to find you in +the other direction. Or he may take the precaution to send a party that +way at once."</p> + +<p>"We shall be there before he or his emissaries can, shall we not? Once +in the convent, I shall be safe.—And besides, Monsieur,"—her voice +took on a faint touch of mock-laughing bitterness—"he will think I have +run away with you for love, and for a different life than that of a +convent. No; as matters are, it is scarce likely he will seek me in the +neighbourhood of the convent."</p> + +<p>It was then determined that we should make for the convent, which, +curiously, as it was beyond Chateaudun, happened to be upon my road to +Paris. We now arrived at Hugues's gate.</p> + +<p>I dismounted only to help the Countess, and stayed in the road with the +horses, while Hugues led Madame and Mathilde into the cottage. He took +them thence into the mill, that they might eat, and the Countess change +her dress, at the very entrance to the hiding-place. He then returned to +me, the plan being that if we heard pursuit he and I were to mount and +ride on, thus leading our enemies away from the Countess, who with +Mathilde should betake herself to the hiding-place till danger was past. +With Hugues's knowledge of the byways and forest paths, we might be able +to elude the hunt. During this wait we refreshed ourselves with wine and +bread, which the old woman brought, and the boy fed the horses. In a +short time the Countess reappeared, a graceful, slender youth in +doublet, breeches, riding-boots of thin leather, cap, and gloves. Her +undulating hair had been reduced by Mathilde, with a pair of shears, to +a suitable shortness. Mathilde followed her, loth to part. We allowed +little time for leave-taking with the poor girl, and were soon mounted +and away, Hugues leading.</p> + +<p>"I suggest, Madame," said I, as we proceeded along the road, which was +soon shadowed from the moonlight by a narrow wood at our right, "that on +this journey you pass as my young brother, going with me to Paris to the +University. I will say that we have ridden ahead of our baggage and +attendants,—which is literally true, for my baggage remains at Hugues's +house and you have left Mathilde there."</p> + +<p>"Very well, Monsieur," she replied.</p> + +<p>"I should have some name to call you by upon occasion," said I. "I will +travel as Henri de Varion, for De Varion was my mother's name, and if +you are willing to use it—"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, Monsieur. As for a name to call me by upon occasion, there +will be least falsehood in calling me Louis; for my real name is +Louise."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Madame; and if you have to address me before people, do not +forget to call me Henri."</p> + +<p>"I shall not forget."</p> + +<p>Her manner in this acquiescence was that of one who follows blindly +where a trusted guide directs, but who takes little interest in the +course or the outcome. A kind of forlorn indifference seemed to have +stolen over her. But she listened to the particulars of residence and +history with which I thought it wise to provide ourselves, and briefly +assented to all. She then lapsed into silence, from which I could not +draw her beyond the fewest words that would serve in politeness to +answer my own speeches.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Hugues led us from the road and across the narrow wood, thence +by a lane and a pasture field to the highway for Vendome and Paris. We +pushed on steadily, passed through Les Roches, which was sound asleep, +and, stopping only now and then to let our horses drink at some stream, +at which times we listened and heard no sound upon the road, we entered +Vendome soon after daylight.</p> + +<p>"Had we better stop here for a few hours?" said I, watching the Countess +and perceiving with sorrow how tired and weak she looked.</p> + +<p>"I think it well, Monsieur," replied Hugues, his eyes dwelling where +mine did.</p> + +<p>"And yet," I said, with a thought of the horror of her being taken, "it +is so few leagues from Lavardin. In such a town, too, the Count's men +would visit all the inns. If we might go on to some village—some +obscure inn. Could you keep up till then, Madame, do you think?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes,—I think so." But her pallor of face, her weakness of voice, +belied her words.</p> + +<p>"We should be more closely observed at some smaller place than here," +said Hugues. "Besides, we need not go to an inn here. There is a decent, +close-mouthed woman I know, a butcher's widow, who will lodge you if her +rooms are not taken. It would be best to avoid the inns and go to her +house at once. As like as not, if the Count did hunt this road, he would +pass through the town without guessing you were at private lodgings."</p> + +<p>"It is the best thing we can do," said I, with a blessing upon all +widows of butchers. Hugues guided us to a little street behind the +church of the Trinity, and soon brought the widow's servant, and then +the widow herself, to the door. Her rooms were vacant, and we took two +of them, in the top story, one overlooking the street, the other a +backyard wherein she agreed to let our horses stand. She promised +moreover to say nothing of our presence there, and so, while Hugues led +the horses through the narrow stone-paved passage, the widow showed us +to our rooms. The front one being the larger and better, I left the +Countess in possession of it as soon as we were alone, that she might +rest until the woman brought the food I had ordered.</p> + +<p>When breakfast was set out in the back room, and the Countess opened her +door in answer to my knock, she looked so worn out and ill that I was +alarmed. She had fallen asleep, she said, and my knock had wakened her. +She ate little, and I could see that she was glad to go back and lie +down again.</p> + +<p>I had thought to resume our journey in the evening, and perhaps reach +Chateaudun by a night's riding. But at evening the Countess seemed no +more fit to travel than before. So I decided to stay at the widow's till +Madame was fully recovered. Hugues would have remained with us another +day, but I sent him back to his mill and Mathilde.</p> + +<p>On the morrow the Countess was no better. I took the risk of going out, +obtaining medicine at the apothecary's, and purchasing other necessary +things for both of us which we had not been able to provide before our +flight. I was in dread lest we might have to resort to a physician and +so make discovery that my young brother was a woman. Madame declared her +illness was but exhaustion, and that she would soon be able to go on. +But it was some days before I thought her strong enough to do so.</p> + +<p>We had come into Vendome on a Wednesday: we left it on the following +Monday morning. We encountered nothing troublesome on the road, and +arrived at Chateaudun that Monday night. The Countess endured the +journey fairly well; but her strange, dreamy listlessness had not left +her.</p> + +<p>At Chateaudun as at Vendome, we sought out lodgings in a by-street, and +therein passed the night. We were now but a few hours' ride from the +convent, by Madame's account of its location. Soon I should have to part +from her, with the intention on her side not to see me again, and the +promise on mine to respect that intention. To postpone this moment as +long as possible, I found pretexts for delaying our departure in the +morning; but as afternoon came on she insisted upon our setting out. I +did so with a sorrowful heart, knowing it meant I must take my last +leave of her that evening.</p> + +<p>From our having passed nearly a week without any sign of pursuit, a +feeling of security had arisen in us. If the Count or his men had sought +in this direction, passing through Vendome while we lay quiet in our +back street, that search would probably be over by this time. But even +if chase had not been made simultaneously by various parties on various +roads, there had been time now for search in different directions one +after another. Yet spies might remain posted at places along the roads +for an indefinite period, especially near the convent. But as long as +the risk was only that of encountering a man or two at once, I had +confidence enough. In Vendome I had bought the Countess a light rapier +to wear for the sake of appearance, of course not expecting her to use +it. But though in case of attack I should have to fight alone, I felt +that her presence would make me a match for two at least.</p> + +<p>I tried to avoid falling in with people on the road, but a little way +out from Chateaudun we came upon a country gentleman, of a well-fed and +amiable sort, whose desire for companionship would let us neither pass +ahead nor drop behind. He was followed by three stout servants, and +expressed some concern at seeing two young gentlemen like us going that +road without attendants.</p> + +<p>"Though to be sure," he added, "there seems to be less danger now; but +you must have heard of the band of robbers that haunt the forests about +Bonneval and further on. There has been little news of their doings +lately, and some people think they may have gone to other parts. But who +knows when they will suddenly make themselves heard of again, when least +expected?—'tis always the way."</p> + +<p>He soon made us forget about dangers of the road, however, by his hearty +talk; though, indeed, for all his good-fellowship I would rather have +been alone with Madame in these last moments. About a league from +Chateaudun, he arrived at his own small estate, rich in wines and +orchards; he regretted that we would not stop, and recommended inns for +us at Bonneval and the towns beyond.</p> + +<p>We rode on, the Countess and I, in silence, my own heart too disturbed +for speech, and she in that same dispirited state which had been hers +from the beginning of our flight. Indeed now, when I was so soon to bid +her farewell, she seemed more tired and melancholy, pale and drooping, +than I had yet seen her. As I was sadly noticing this, we came to a +place where a lesser road ran from the highway toward a long stretch of +woods at the right. The Countess drew in her horse, and said, indicating +the branch road:</p> + +<p>"That is my way, Monsieur. I will say adieu here; but I will not even +try to thank you. You have risked your life for me many times over. I +will pray for you—with my last breath."</p> + +<p>"But, Madame," I exclaimed in astonishment, "we are not to say adieu +here. I must see you to the convent."</p> + +<p>"The convent is not so far now. I know the way; and I wish to go there +alone. You will respect my wish, I know: have you not had your way +entirely so far on our journey? You cannot justly refuse me my will +now." She gave a wan little smile as if she knew the argument was not a +fair one.</p> + +<p>"But, Madame,—what can be your reason?—It is not safe. Surely you will +not deny me the happiness of seeing my service fully accomplished,—of +knowing that you are safe at the convent?"</p> + +<p>"I am nearly there. I know the road,—it is a shorter way than the high +roads, but little used. I shall meet no travellers. I fear no danger."</p> + +<p>"But consider, Madame. The danger may be at the very end of your +journey. The Count may have spies within sight of the convent. You may +fall into a trap at the last moment."</p> + +<p>"I can go first to the house of a woodman in the forest, whose wife was +a servant of my mother's. They are good, trustworthy people, and can see +if all is safe before I approach the convent. If there is danger, I can +send word by them to the Mother Superior, who can find means to get me +in secretly at night. You may deem your service accomplished, Monsieur. +I must take my leave now."</p> + +<p>"But it is so strange! What can be your reason?—what can be your +objection to my going with you?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, Monsieur, it may be unfair, but a woman is exempt from having to +give reasons. It is my wish,—is not that enough? I am so deeply your +debtor already,—let me be your debtor in this one thing more.—You have +spent money for me: I have no means of repaying—nay, I will not mention +it,—you have given me so much that is above all price,—your courage +and skill. But enough of this—to speak of such things in my poor way is +to cheapen them. Adieu, Monsieur!—adieu, Henri!"</p> + +<p>She held out her hand, to which I lowered my lips without a word, for I +could not speak.</p> + +<p>"You will go your way when I go mine," she said with tenderness. "To +Paris, perhaps?"</p> + +<p>"To Paris—I suppose so," I said vaguely.</p> + +<p>"This horse belongs to Hugues," she said, stroking the animal's neck. "I +may find means to send it back to him.—Well, adieu! God be with you on +your journey, Monsieur,—and through your life."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Madame!—adieu, if you will have it so! adieu!—adieu, Louis!"</p> + +<p>She smiled acquiescently at my use of the name by which I had had +occasion to call her a few times at our lodging-places. Then, saying +once more, "Adieu, Henri!" she turned her horse's head and started down +the by-road. With a heavy heart, I waited till she had disappeared in +the woods. I had hoped she might look back, but she had not done so.</p> + +<p>A movement of my rein, which I made without intention, was taken by my +horse as a signal to go on, and the creature, resuming its original +direction, kept to the highway and plodded along toward Bonneval and +Paris.</p> + +<p>Never in all my life, before or since, have I felt so alone. What was +there for me to do now? All my care, all my heart, was with the solitary +figure on horseback somewhere yonder in the forest. Had life any object +for me elsewhere?</p> + +<p>Yes, faith!—and I laughed ironically as it came back to my thoughts—I +might now go on to Paris and cut off the moustaches of Brignan de +Brignan!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + +<h3>IN THE FOREST</h3> + + +<p>But I had not yet come in sight of Bonneval, when fearful misgivings +began to assail me as to what might befall the Countess. I awoke to a +full sense of my folly in yielding to her wish. Her own apparent +confidence of safety had made me, for a time, feel there must be indeed +small danger. I had too weakly given way to her right of command in the +case. I had been too easily checked by respect for what private reason +she might have for wishing to go on without company. I had played the +boy and the fool, and if ever there had been a time when I ought to have +used a man's authority, laughing down her protests, it had been when she +rode away alone toward the forest.</p> + +<p>I turned my horse about, resolved to undo my error as far as I +might,—to go back and take the road she had taken, and not rest till I +knew she was safe in the convent.</p> + +<p>My fears increased as I went. What the country gentleman had said about +robbers came back to my mind. I arrived at the junction of the roads, +and galloped to the woods. Once among the trees, I had to proceed +slowly, for the road dwindled to a mere path, so grown with grass as to +show how little it was ordinarily resorted to. But there were horseshoe +prints which, though at first I took them to be only those of the +Countess's horse, soon appeared so numerously together that I saw there +must have been other travellers there recently. I perceived, too, that +the wood was of great depth and extent, and not the narrow strip I had +supposed. It was, in fact, part of a large forest. I became the more +disquieted, till at last, as the light of day began to die out of the +woods, I was oppressed with a belief as strong as certainty, that some +great peril had already fallen upon her I loved.</p> + +<p>I came into a little green glade, around which I glanced. My heart +seemed to faint within me, for there, by a small stream that trickled +through the glade, was a horse grazing,—a horse with bridle and saddle +but no rider. The rein hung upon the grass, the saddle was pulled awry, +and the horse was that of the Countess.</p> + +<p>I looked wildly in every direction, but she was nowhere to be seen. The +horse raised his head, and whinnied in recognition of me and my animal, +then went on cropping the grass. I rode over to him, as if by +questioning the dumb beast I might learn where his mistress was. There +was no sign of any sort by which I might be guided in seeking her.</p> + +<p>I called aloud, "Madame! madame!" But there was only the faint breeze of +evening among the treetops for answer.</p> + +<p>But the horse could not have wandered far. Whatever had occurred, there +must be traces near. My best course was to search the forest close at +hand: any one of those darkening aisles stretching on every side, like +corridors leading to caves of gloom, might contain the secret: each +dusky avenue, its ground hidden by tangled forest growth, seemed to bid +me come and discover. I dismounted, knowing I could trust my horse to +stay in the glade, and, crossing the stream, explored the further +portion of the path.</p> + +<p>I came to a place where the underbrush at the side of the path was +somewhat beaten aside. I thought I could distinguish where some person +or animal had gone from this place, tramping a sort of barely traceable +furrow through the tangle. I followed this course: it led me back to the +glade. Doubtless the horse had made it.</p> + +<p>I was about to go back along the path, when I noticed a similar +trodden-down appearance along one side of the stream where it left the +glade. Hoping little, I examined this. It brought me, after a few yards, +to a clear piece of turf swelling up around the roots of an oak. And +lying there, on the grassy incline, with her head at the foot of the +oak, was the Countess, as silent and motionless as death, with blood +upon her forehead.</p> + +<p>My own heart leaping, I knelt to discover if hers still moved. Her body +stirred at my touch. I dipped my handkerchief in the stream, and gently +washed away the blood, but revealed no cut until I examined beneath the +hair, when I found a long shallow gash. I hastily cleansed her hair of +the blood as well as I could, with such care as not to cause the wound +to flow anew. All the time I was doing this, my joy at finding her alive +and free was such that I could have sobbed aloud.</p> + +<p>She awoke and recognized me, first smiling faintly, but in a moment +parting her lips in sorrowful surprise, and then, after glancing round, +giving a sigh of profound weariness.</p> + +<p>"Am I then still alive?" she murmured.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Madame;—I thank God from my heart."</p> + +<p>"It is His will," she said. "I had hoped—I had thought my life in this +world was ended."</p> + +<p>"Oh, do not say that. What can you mean?"</p> + +<p>"When they surrounded me—the men who sprang up at the sides of the +path—I thought, 'Yes, these are the robbers the gentleman spoke +of,—God has been kind and has sent them to waylay me: if I resist, I +may be killed, and surely I have a right to resist.' So I drew my sword, +and made a thrust at the nearest. He struck me with some weapon—I did +not even notice what it was, I was so glad when it came swiftly—when I +felt I could not save myself. The blow was like a kiss—the kiss of +death, welcoming me out of this life of sad and bitter prospects."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Madame, how can you talk in this way, when you are still young and +beautiful, and there are those who love you?"</p> + +<p>"You do not know all, Henri. What is there for me in life? I am weak to +complain—weak to long for death—sinful, perhaps, to put myself in its +way, but surely Heaven will pardon that sin,—weak, yes; but, alas, I +cannot help it,—women are weak, are they not? What is before me, then? +I am one without a place in the world—without relations, without +fortune. If I were a man, I might seek my fortune—there are the wars, +there are many kinds of honourable service. But what is there for a +woman, a wife who has run away from her husband?"</p> + +<p>"But Madame, the convent,—you have a right to be maintained there. You +can at least live there, till time annuls the Count's claims upon you. +And then who knows what the future may bring?"</p> + +<p>"The convent—I have told you I should be safe there, and so no doubt I +should if I took the veil—"</p> + +<p>"Nay, Madame, not that, save as a last resort!"</p> + +<p>"Alas, I may not though I would. Do you think I should hesitate if I +were free? How gladly I would bury myself from this world, give myself +at once to Heaven! But that resource—that happiness—is forbidden me. +My mother, as she neared death, saw no security for me but as a +life-guest at a convent. Our small fortune barely sufficed to make the +provision. But she did not wish me to become a nun, and as she feared +the influence of the convent might lead that way, she put me under a +promise never to take the veil. So I am without the one natural resource +of a woman in my position."</p> + +<p>"But do you mean that you will not be safe at the convent merely as a +guest?"</p> + +<p>"The Count may claim the fulfilment of his rights as a husband. He may +use force to take me away. The Mother Superior cannot withhold me from +him; and indeed I fear she would be little inclined to if she could, +unless I consented to take the veil. Before the possibility of my +marriage came up, she was always urging me to apply for a remission of +the vow to my mother, so that I might become a nun. But that I would +never do."</p> + +<p>"But, Madame, knowing all this, how could you select the convent as your +refuge, and let me bring you so far toward it?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, Monsieur, what place in the world was there for me? And yet I had +to go somewhere, that your life might be saved, and Mathilde's, and the +happiness of poor Hugues. There was no other way to draw you far from +that chateau of murder, no other way to detach Mathilde from one who +could bring her nothing but calamity. And to-day, when I left you, I +thought all this was accomplished, and I was free to go my way in search +of death."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Madame, if I had known what was in your mind! Then you did not mean +to go to the convent?"</p> + +<p>"I meant to go toward the convent. It is further away than I allowed you +to suppose. I felt—I know not why—that death would meet me on the way. +I felt in my heart a promise that God would do me that kindness. At +first I had no idea of what form my deliverer would take. Perhaps, I +thought, I might be permitted to lose my way in the forest and die of +hunger, or perhaps I might encounter some wild beast, or a storm might +arise and cause me to be struck by lightning or a falling bough, or I +might be so chilled and weakened by rain that I must needs lie down and +die. I knew not what shape,—all I felt was, that it waited for me in +the forest. And when the gentleman spoke of robbers, I rejoiced, for it +seemed to confirm my belief."</p> + +<p>"And that is why you would not let me come with you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, certainly; that you might not be present to drive death away from +me, or meet it with me. I hoped you would go on to Paris, thinking me +safe, and that you would soon forget me. You see how I desire you to +live, and how you can please me only by doing so."</p> + +<p>"And so, when you were at last in the forest—?"</p> + +<p>"At last in the forest, yes—I knew not how long I should have to ride, +but I made no haste,—sooner or later it would come, I thought. The +birds hopping about on the branches seemed to be saying to one another, +'See this lady who has come to meet death.' I crossed a glade, and +something seemed to whisper to my heart, 'Yonder it lies waiting, yonder +in the shades beyond that little stream.' So I went on, and true enough, +before I had gone far, five or six rough men sprang out from the bushes. +Two caught my reins, and one raised a weapon of some kind and bade me +deliver up my purse. I had no purse to deliver, and I feared they might +let me go as not worth their trouble. Then I thought they might hold me +for ransom, or rob me of my clothes, and discover I was a woman. Surely +I was justified in resisting such a fate; so I drew the sword you gave +me, and made a pass at the man with the weapon. He struck instantly, +before I could turn my head aside, and I had time only for a flash of +joy that God had indeed granted me deliverance. I scarce felt the blow, +and then all went out in darkness. I knew nothing after. How did I come +here? This is not the place where I met the robbers."</p> + +<p>"It is very strange," said I. "This is where I found you, only a little +while before you came to life. I had searched the path, but I saw no +robbers. They did not take your horse,—I found it in the glade yonder, +where I have left mine with it. That must be the glade you crossed +before they appeared."</p> + +<p>"But how came you to be here? Ah, did you disregard my wish and follow +me?"</p> + +<p>"Not at first. No; I went on toward Paris as you bade me. But after +awhile I too had a feeling of danger befalling you in this forest. It +was so strong that I could not force myself to go on. So I rode back, +hoping to come in sight of you and follow at a distance. I could not do +otherwise."</p> + +<p>"Ah, Henri, perhaps it is to you I owe the ill service of bringing me +back to life. Who knows?—I might have passed quietly away to death here +had you not come and revived the feeble spark left in me. I must have +been unconscious a long time."</p> + +<p>"Yes; thank God I arrived no later than I did. But why should the +robbers have brought you here? They have not even taken any of your +clothes. See, here is your sword, replaced in its scabbard; even your +cap is here, beside your head—look where the villain's weapon cut +through,—it must have been a sort of halberd. Why should they have +brought you here? Do they mean to return, I wonder?"</p> + +<p>I rose and looked around, peering through the dusky spaces between the +trunks of the trees, and straining my ears. Suddenly, amidst the chatter +of the birds returning to their places for the night, I made out a sound +of distant hoof-beats.</p> + +<p>"Horsemen!" I said. "But these robbers were on foot, were they not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I did not see any horses about."</p> + +<p>"Who can these be? There must be several!"</p> + +<p>They were apparently coming from that part of the forest toward which +the Countess had been riding. On account of the brushwood I could not +see them yet.</p> + +<p>"Well," said I, "we had best keep as quiet as possible till they pass. +But they will see our horses in crossing the glade. No, that must not +be. Wait."</p> + +<p>I ran back to the glade, and finding the horses close together, caught +them both, led them down the bed of the stream to where the Countess +was, and made them lie among the underwood, trusting to good fortune +that they would be quiet while the others were passing.</p> + +<p>Soon I could see, above the underbrush that extended to the path beyond +the brook, a procession of steel head-pieces, bearded faces, +breastplates over leather jerkins, and horses' heads. There were six or +seven men in all, one after another. I lay close to the earth and heard +them cross the stream. And then, to my astonishment, they came directly +along the stream by the way I had first come; I rose to my feet just in +time to face the leader as he stopped his horse within a yard of me.</p> + +<p>He gazed over the neck of his steed at me, and the Countess, and our two +animals. He was a tall, well-made, handsome man, seasoned but still +young, with a bronzed, fearless face.</p> + +<p>"Good evening," said he, in a rich, manly voice. "So the youngster has +come to his senses,—and found a friend, it appears."</p> + +<p>"I don't exactly understand you, Monsieur," said I.</p> + +<p>"You are not to blame for that," he replied good-humouredly. "It is true +I met your young friend awhile ago, but as he was more dead than alive +at that time, he couldn't have told you much. How is it with him now?"</p> + +<p>"I am not much hurt, Monsieur," replied the Countess for herself.</p> + +<p>"I scarce knew how I should find you when I returned," said the +newcomer.</p> + +<p>"Then you saw him here before, Monsieur?" said I.</p> + +<p>"Yes; it was I who brought him here,—but, faith! he was in no condition +to see what was going on. We were searching this forest on the King's +business, when I heard something a little ahead, which made me gallop +forward, and there I saw half-a-dozen ruffians around a horse, and one +of them dragging this youth from the saddle. I shouted to my comrades +and charged at the robbers. They dropped the lad, and made off along the +path. I stopped to see to the young gentleman, and ordered my companions +to pursue the rascals. The youngster, let me tell you, seemed quite done +for. He had been struck, as you see, evidently just before he was pulled +from the horse."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Monsieur," said the Countess; "and I knew nothing after the blow."</p> + +<p>"So it appeared," replied the horseman. "I saw that water was needed, +and remembering this stream we had crossed, I carried you to this place +and did what I could for you. But I had to go and recall my men,—I +feared they might be led too far, or separated by the robbers running in +different directions. That explains my leaving you alone. We have a +piece of work in hand, of some importance, and dare not risk anything +for the sake of catching those knaves."</p> + +<p>"I suppose they are part of the band that haunts this forest," said I.</p> + +<p>"No doubt. But this forest is at present the haunt of larger game. Those +scoundrels escaped us this time—they were favoured by the dusk and the +undergrowth. I was longer in catching up with my comrades than I had +thought. But I see all has gone well with that young gentleman in the +meantime."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Monsieur. I, his brother, ought never to have allowed him to go on +alone. But I was riding after, expecting to overtake him, when I came +upon his horse; I supposed he must be near, and I was fortunate enough +to seek in the right place. He shall not leave me again; and for us both +I thank you more than my tongue can ever express."</p> + +<p>"Pouf!—I did nothing. The question is, what now? My comrades and I have +affairs to look after in the forest. We shall continue on the path where +your brother met his accident, till we come to a certain forester's +house where we may pass the night. Your direction appears to be the +same, and you will be safe with us."</p> + +<p>"Again I thank you, Monsieur," I said, "but we shall give up our journey +through the forest. As soon as my brother feels able to ride, we shall +go back to the highway and pass the night at some inn. I think we shall +be safe enough now that you have frightened the robbers from this part +of the forest."</p> + +<p>The horseman eyed me shrewdly, and glanced at the Countess. It occurred +to me then that he had known her sex from the first, and that he now +trusted me with wisdom enough to judge best what I ought to do. So he +delicately refrained from pressing us, as he had all along from trying +to learn our secret. For a moment he silently twirled his moustaches; +then he said:</p> + +<p>"In that case, I have but to wish you good-night, and good fortune. +I think you will be safe enough between here and the highway. +Please do not mention that you have seen any of the King's guard +hereabouts,—though I fear that news is already on the wing."</p> + +<p>"What, Monsieur?—are you, then, of the King's guard?"</p> + +<p>"We have the honour to be so."</p> + +<p>"But I thought their uniform—"</p> + +<p>"Faith, we are in our working clothes," said he, with a laugh. The next +moment he waved us adieu, turned his horse about, and, his companions +also turning at his order, followed them out of our sight.</p> + +<p>"A very charming gentleman," said I, as the sound of their horses +diminished in our ears.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV.</h2> + +<h3>THE TOWER OF MORLON</h3> + + +<p>The Countess still lay on the grassy couch beneath the oak. She seemed +to have lost all will as to her course of action.</p> + +<p>"I think best not to go with those guards," I explained after a moment. +"For why should we travel their way without any destination? There is +nothing for us now in that direction. After what you have told me, I +dare not let you go to the convent."</p> + +<p>"There is no place for me," she said listlessly. "Death has disappointed +me, and left me in the lurch. I think this place is as good as another."</p> + +<p>She closed her eyes for some moments, as if she would lie there till +death came, after all.</p> + +<p>"No," said I; "you must not stay here. Night is coming on: the chill and +the dews will be harmful to you. Besides, there are clouds already +blotting out some of the stars, and the wind is rising and may bring +more. If there is rain, it may be heavy, after so many days of fine +weather. It will soon be too dark to follow the path. We must be getting +on."</p> + +<p>"I am weak from this blow," she said,—rather as if for a pretext +against moving, I thought. "I am not sure I could keep my saddle."</p> + +<p>"I can carry you as I ride, if need be, and let your horse follow. Come, +Madame, let us see if you can rise. If not, I will take you in my arms +to the glade, where it will be easier to mount."</p> + +<p>I stooped to support her, but she did not stir.</p> + +<p>"But where am I to go?" she said. "Of what use to travel aimlessly from +place to place? As you say, why should we ride on toward the convent +without a destination? But where else have I a destination?"</p> + +<p>"Listen, Madame. Is it not probable that after some weeks, or months, +the Count, still disappointed of your taking refuge at the convent, will +give up hope or expectation of finding you there? Will he not then +withdraw his attention from the convent?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose so."</p> + +<p>"And can we not, if we take time, find means to learn when that becomes +the case? Can we not, by careful investigation, make sure whether he is +still watching the convent or whether he has an informant there? Can we +not enter into communication with the Mother Superior, and find out what +her attitude is toward you,—whether, if you returned, your residence +there would be safe and kept secret? Surely she would not betray you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; whatever attitude she took, she would tell me the truth."</p> + +<p>"Then it is only necessary to wait a few months and take those measures, +without letting your own whereabouts be known even to the Mother +Superior."</p> + +<p>"But meanwhile would you have me continue doing as I have done since my +flight,—passing as something I am not, receiving the protection—living +on the very bounty—of the one person in all the world from whom I +should accept nothing? Why, Monsieur, if it were known—if no more than +the mere truth were told—would it not seem to justify the Count de +Lavardin?"</p> + +<p>"I do not ask you to do as you have done. For only two or three days you +need pass as a boy. You may then not only resume the habit of a woman, +but enjoy the company and friendship of a woman as saintly as yourself. +Your presence in her house must be a secret till affairs mend, but you +may be sure that if her friendship for you were known, it would be a +sufficient answer to anything your husband or the world might say +against you."</p> + +<p>"It is of your mother that you speak. But I told you before, it is not +from you that I dare accept so much."</p> + +<p>"It will be from my mother, who will believe me when I tell her the +truth, and who will take you as her guest and friend for your own sake. +As for me, my affairs in Paris will keep me from La Tournoire while you +are there:—for consider, what I propose now is not what you refused +that night we fled from Lavardin. I spoke then of your making La +Tournoire your refuge for an indefinite time,—the rest of your life, if +need be:—I speak now of your staying there only till your safe +residence at the convent can be assured,—only a few months, or weeks."</p> + +<p>Though I had begun and ended by speaking of the convent, I did so merely +with the object of inducing her to go to La Tournoire. Once there, she +would be under the guidance and persuasion of my mother, who could +influence her to remain till the Count's death removed all danger.</p> + +<p>"You must not refuse, Madame," I went on. "God has shown that He does +not desire your death, and it must be His will that you should accept +this plan, so clear and simple. Speak, Madame!"</p> + +<p>"I know not.—I have no strength, no will, to oppose further. Let it be +as you think best." The last vestige of her power of objection, of +resolving or thinking for herself, seemed to pass out in a tired sigh.</p> + +<p>"Good!" I cried. "Then we have but to regain the road and find some inn +for the night. To-morrow we shall ride back to Chateaudun, or perhaps on +to Bonneval, and then make for La Tournoire by Le Mans and Sablé, which +is to give a wide berth to Montoire and the road we have come by. Do you +think you can rise, Madame?—Nay, wait till I lead the horses out."</p> + +<p>I took the horses to the glade, then returned and found the Countess +already on her feet, though with her hand against the tree, as she was +somewhat dizzy. She walked with my assistance, and I helped her to her +saddle,—she now thought herself able to ride without support. I mounted +my own horse, grasped the halter of the other, and took the path for the +highway.</p> + +<p>"We are none too soon," said I, as we left the glade. "How dark the path +is even now: I hope we shall be able to keep it."</p> + +<p>Darkness came on more quickly than usual, because of the swift +overclouding of the sky. Very soon I could not see two paces before me. +Then blackness settled down upon us. My horse still went on, but slowly +and uncertainly, with many a halt to make sure of footing and a free +way. When I glanced back, I could not see the Countess, but I held the +tighter to the halter of her horse and frequently asked if all was well. +Her reply was, "Yes, Monsieur," in a faint, tired voice. I felt about +with my whip for the trees at the side of the path, and thus was able to +guide the horse when its own confidence faltered.</p> + +<p>Instead of cooling, the air became close. Suddenly the forest was +lighted up by a pale flash which, lasting but a moment, was followed +after a time by a distant rumble of thunder.</p> + +<p>"It is far away, Madame," said I. "It may not come in this direction, or +we may be safely housed before it does."</p> + +<p>"I am not afraid."</p> + +<p>However, lest rain might fall suddenly, I stopped the horses, unrolled +from behind my saddle a cloak which I had bought in Vendome, and put it +around the Countess. We then proceeded as best we could. Slowly as we +had gone, I began to think it time we should emerge from the forest; but +another flash of lightning showed apparently endless vistas of wood on +every side. We went on for another half hour or so, during which the +distant thunder continued at intervals; and then, finding ourselves as +deep in the forest as ever, I perceived that we must have strayed from +our right path. I stopped and told the Countess.</p> + +<p>"It must be so," she said.</p> + +<p>"I noticed no cross-path when I rode into the forest this afternoon. Yet +a path might join at such an angle that, looking straight ahead, I +should not have seen it. Yes, that is undoubtedly the case, if we are in +a path at all. Perhaps we are following the bed of a dried-up stream."</p> + +<p>"Do you wish to turn back, then?"</p> + +<p>"We might only lose ourselves. And yet that is what must happen if we go +ahead. Let us wait for a flash of lightning."</p> + +<p>One came presently, while my eyes were turned ready in what I thought +the direction from which we had come. But there seemed to lie no opening +at all in that direction. Then, in the blacker darkness that ensued, I +remembered that I had turned my horse slightly while talking of the +matter. I could not now tell exactly which direction we had come from. +It occurred to me that perhaps for some time we had wandered about in no +path at all, going where trees and underbrush left space clear enough to +be mistaken.</p> + +<p>I confessed that I knew not which way to go, even to find the original +path.</p> + +<p>"Is it best to ride on at random, in hope of coming upon something, or +to stay where we are till daylight?" I asked.</p> + +<p>The Countess had no will upon the matter. But the question was decided +for me by a heavy downpour of rain, which came in a rush without +warning. It was evident that the foliage over us was not thick. So I +shouted to the Countess that we would go on till we found trees that +gave more protection. I urged my horse to move, letting him choose his +own course, and he obediently toiled forward, I exerting myself to keep +the other horse close, and also feeling the way with my whip.</p> + +<p>As swift as the oncoming of the rain, was the increase of the lightning, +both in frequency and intensity. The fall of the rain seemed loud beyond +measure, but it was drowned out of all hearing when the thunder rolled +and reverberated across the sky. In the bright bursts of lightning, the +trees, seen through falling rain, seemed like companions suffering with +us the chastisement of the heavens; but in the darkness that intervened +between the flashes, the forest and all the world seemed to have died +out of existence, leaving nothing but the pelting waters and the din of +the storm.</p> + +<p>At last we came, not to a region where the boughs were less penetrable, +but to an open space where the downpour had us entirely at its mercy. I +thought at first we had got out of the forest, or into the glade we had +left: but a brilliant flash showed us it was another small clearing, +which rose slightly toward the thick woods on its further side. And the +same lightning revealed, against the background of trees, a solitary +tower, old and half-ruined, slender and of no great height. A doorway on +a level with the ground stood half open.</p> + +<p>"Did you see that?" I cried, when the lightning had passed. "There is +shelter."</p> + +<p>"It must be the tower of Morlon," said the Countess.</p> + +<p>"And who lives there?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody,—at least it was said to be empty when I used to hear of it. It +is all that is left of a house that was destroyed in the civil wars. +Hunting parties sometimes resort to it, and the peasants make use of it +when passing this way.—Yes, we have come far out of our road, if that +is really the tower of Morlon."</p> + +<p>"Then it is every man's house. The door is open."</p> + +<p>"It is an abandoned place, and people would take no care how they left +the door."</p> + +<p>"Let us go in, then. There can be nobody there, or the door would be +closed against this storm."</p> + +<p>I rode toward the spot where I supposed the tower was, and, rectifying +my course by the next flash, I presently felt the stone wall with my +whip. I dismounted, found the entrance, pushed the door wide, and saw by +the lightning a low-ceiled interior, which was empty. I led the horses +in, helped the Countess from the saddle, and removed her cloak, which, +though itself drenched, had kept her clothes comparatively dry.</p> + +<p>My first thought was of a place where the Countess might recline. But, +as I found by groping about and by the frequent lightning, there was +nothing except the floor, which, originally paved with stone, was now +covered with dried mud from the boots of many who had resorted to the +place before ourselves. There were no steps leading to the upper stories +of the tower: the part we were in was, indeed, but a sort of basement. +It occupied the full ground space of the tower, with the rough stone as +its only shell, and had no window nor any discoverable opening place in +the low ceiling.</p> + +<p>Thinking there might be an external staircase to the story above us, I +went out and felt my way around the tower, but found none. The entrance +to the main or upper part of the tower from the buildings that once +adjoined must have been to the story above, from a floor on the same +level. I thought of seeking the opening and climbing in from the back of +my horse, but I reflected that the upper stories also would doubtless be +denuded, while they could offer no better shelter from the rain. So I +was content with taking the saddles from the horses, and placing them +together upside down in such a way that they constituted a dry reclining +place for the Countess.</p> + +<p>There was no dry wood to be had from the forest, and no fuel of any kind +in our place of refuge; so I could not make a fire. While the Countess +sat in silence, I paced the floor until I succumbed to fatigue. By that +time, much of the water had dripped from my clothes, and I was able to +sit on the carpet of earth with some comfort. I leaned my back against +the wall, to wait till the storm and the night should pass.</p> + +<p>The horses had lain down, and the Countess, as I perceived by her deep +breathing and her not answering me, was asleep. The thunder and +lightning were less near and less powerful, but the rain still fell, now +decreasingly and now with suddenly regathered force. At last I too +slept.</p> + +<p>I awoke during the night, and changed from a sitting to a lying +position. When I next opened my eyes, the light of dawn was streaming in +at the door. The storm had ceased, birds were twittering outside. I was +aching and hungry. The Countess's face, as she slept, betokened weakness +and pain. I went and adjusted a saddle-flap that had got awry under her. +As I did so, she awoke.</p> + +<p>"I am so tired," she said in a slow, small voice, like that of a weary +child.</p> + +<p>"You are faint for want of food," said I. "You have eaten nothing since +noon yesterday, and very little then."</p> + +<p>Thinking I wished to hurry our departure in search of breakfast, she +shook her head and murmured weakly:</p> + +<p>"I am not able to go on just now. I assure you, I cannot even stand. All +strength seems to have gone out of me." As if to illustrate, she raised +her hand a few inches: it trembled a moment, then fell as if powerless.</p> + +<p>It was plain that she was, whether from fatigue and privation alone, or +from illness also, in a helpless state. It would be cruelty and folly to +put her on horseback. And without at least the refreshment of food and +wine, how was her condition to be improved so that she might leave this +place?</p> + +<p>After some thought and talk, I said:</p> + +<p>"The only thing is for me to go and get you food and wine, while you +stay here. But, alas, what danger you may be in while I am gone! If +anybody should come here and find you!"</p> + +<p>"Nobody may come. Surely there are many days when this place is left +deserted."</p> + +<p>"But if somebody <i>should</i> come?"</p> + +<p>"All people are not cruel and wicked. It might be a person who is kind +and good."</p> + +<p>"But the robbers?"</p> + +<p>"Why should they come? There is nothing for them here. If they came it +would be by chance; against that, we can trust in God."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps intruders can be bolted out," said I, going to examine the +door. It was of thick oak, heavily studded with nails, and two of its +three hinges still held firmly. But there was no bolt, nor any means of +barring.</p> + +<p>"Nothing but a lock," I said, "and no key for that." It only aggravated +my feeling of mockery to discover that both parts of the lock were still +strong. In my petulance I flung the door back against the wall.</p> + +<p>As one sometimes gives the improbable a trial, from mere impulse of +experiment, I took from my pocket the two keys I had brought from +Lavardin. I tried first that of the room in which I had been imprisoned: +it was too small, and of no avail. I then inserted the key of the +postern. To my surprise, it fit. I turned it partly around; it met +resistance: I used all my power of wrist; the lock, which had stuck +because it was rusted and long unused, yielded to the strength I +summoned.</p> + +<p>"Thank God!" I cried. "It seems like the work of providence, that I kept +the postern key."</p> + +<p>I now reversed and withdrew the key, and applied it to the lock from the +inside of the door, which I had meanwhile closed. But alas!—no force of +mine could move the lock from that side, though I tried again and again.</p> + +<p>I went outside and easily enough locked the door from there. I then +renewed my endeavours from the inside, but with failure.</p> + +<p>"Alas!" said I, turning to the Countess; "if I cannot lock the door from +within, how much less will you be able to do so."</p> + +<p>"But you can lock it from without," she answered, taking trouble to +secure my peace of mind. "Why not lock me in? It will be the same thing. +In either case I should not go out during your absence."</p> + +<p>"That is true," I said. "I will make haste. If the door is locked +against intruders, what matters it which of us has the key? I will guard +it as my life,—nay, that too I will guard as never before, for yours +will depend upon it."</p> + +<p>I then questioned the Countess as to what part of the forest we were in, +but her knowledge of the location of the tower, with regard to roads or +paths, was vague.</p> + +<p>I decided to take both horses with me, lest one, being heard or seen, in +or about the tower, might excite the curiosity of some chance passer +through the forest. But I left the saddles with the Countess. Anxious to +lose no more time, I knelt and kissed her hand, receiving a faint smile +in acknowledgment of my care; led out the horses, locked the door, +pocketed the key, mounted, and was off. I went haunted by the sweet, +sorrowful eyes of the Countess as they had followed me to the door.</p> + +<p>With the sun to guide me, I rode Westward, for in that direction must be +the highway we had left the day before. By keeping a straight course, +and taking note of my place of emergence from the forest, I should be +able to find my way back to the tower. The leaves overhead were nowhere +so thick but that splashes of sunshine fell upon the earth and +undergrowth, and, by keeping the shadow of my horse and myself ever +straight in front, I maintained our direction. But besides this I +frequently notched the bark of some tree, always on its South side, with +my dagger. Having this to do, and the second horse to lead, and the +underbrush being often difficult, my progress was slower than suited my +impatience. But in about an hour and a half from starting, I came out of +the forest upon the bank of the Loir, which is so insignificant a stream +thereabouts that I may not have mentioned fording it upon entering the +woods on the previous day. I let the horses drink, and then rode +through, and across a meadow to the highway. I turned to the right, and +arrived, sooner than I had expected, at the gate of a town, which proved +to be Bonneval. I stopped at the inn across from the church, saw to the +feeding of my horses, and then went into the kitchen. I ordered a supply +of young fowl, bread, wine, milk in bottles, and other things; and +bargained with the innkeeper for a pair of pliable baskets and a strap +by which they might be slung across my horse like panniers. While I +waited for the chickens to roast, I used the time in reviving my own +energies with wine, eggs, and cold ham, which were to be had +immediately.</p> + +<p>Three or four people came or went while I was eating, and each time +anybody crossed the threshold of the door, I glanced to see what sort of +person it was. This watchfulness had become habitual to me of late. But +as I was about finishing my meal, with my eyes upon my plate, I had an +impression that somebody was standing near and gazing at me. As I had +not observed any one to come so close, I looked up with a start. And +there stood Monsieur de Pepicot, his nose as long as ever, his eyes as +meek as when they had first regarded me at Lavardin.</p> + +<p>"My faith!" I exclaimed. "You rise like a spirit. I neither saw nor +heard you enter."</p> + +<p>"I am a quiet man," he replied with a faint smile, sitting down opposite +me.</p> + +<p>"You are the very ghost of silence itself," said I. "What do you wear on +the soles of your boots?"</p> + +<p>Again he smiled faintly, but he left my question unanswered. "So you +managed to keep out of trouble at that place where I last saw you?" said +he.</p> + +<p>"If I did not keep out of it, at least I got out of it."</p> + +<p>"You are a clever young man,—or a lucky one. I was a little disturbed +in mind at leaving you as I did. But—business called me. I knew that if +you could manage to keep a whole body for ten days or so, even if that +amiable Count did see fit to cage you up, you would be set free in the +end."</p> + +<p>"Set free? By the Count, do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all. By those who would visit the Count; by those who have—But +stay,—have you not just come from Lavardin?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed. I left that hospitable house more than a week ago. I set +myself free."</p> + +<p>"Oh, is that the case? I ask your pardon. When I saw you here, I +naturally supposed your liberation was a result of what has just +occurred. I haven't yet learned all particulars of the event."</p> + +<p>"What event? I don't understand you."</p> + +<p>"Then you don't know what has been going on at Lavardin recently?"</p> + +<p>"Not I."</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed? Well, it will be known to all the world very soon. The +Count, it seems, was suspected of some hand in the late intrigue with +Spain—"</p> + +<p>"Ah!"</p> + +<p>"Why do you say 'Ah!'?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing. I always thought there might be something wrong with the +Count's politics."</p> + +<p>"Well, so they thought in Paris. And having made sure—"</p> + +<p>"How did they make sure?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, by the discovery of certain documents, no doubt," said Monsieur de +Pepicot, with a notable unconsciousness. "It is the usual way, is it +not?"</p> + +<p>"Aha! I begin to see now. You overdo the innocence, my friend. I begin +to guess what you were doing at Lavardin—"</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, I know not what you mean."</p> + +<p>"I begin to guess why you wanted to get into the chateau,—what you were +wandering about the house with a lantern for,—why you took your leave +so unexpectedly,—and how you knew that in ten days I should be set +free."</p> + +<p>"Nay, Monsieur, I cannot follow you in your perceptions. I know only +that on Monday evening a party of the King's guard appeared before the +Chateau de Lavardin—"</p> + +<p>"Having been sent from Paris soon after you had arrived there with the +documents you found in the chateau."</p> + +<p>"Please do not interrupt with your baseless conjectures, Monsieur. As I +said, the guards arrived at Lavardin just as, by great good fortune, the +Count himself was returning from some journey or excursion he had been +on. Thus they met him outside his walls: had it been otherwise they +would doubtless have had infinite trouble, for, as we know, the chateau +has been for some time fully prepared for a siege, even to being +garrisoned by the company of Captain Ferragant."</p> + +<p>"What! then those fellows who thronged the court-yard—"</p> + +<p>"Were a part of Captain Ferragant's famous company,—only a part, as I +should have said at first, unless he has reduced its numbers. Well, +instead of having the difficulty of besieging the chateau, the guards +had the luck to meet the Count in the road, when he had only a few +followers with him. And so they made short work."</p> + +<p>"They succeeded in arresting him?"</p> + +<p>"Not exactly that. He chose to resist, no doubt thinking he would soon +be reinforced from the chateau by the Captain and garrison. And in the +fight, the Count was killed,—stuck through the lungs by the sword of a +guard who had to defend himself from the Count's own attack."</p> + +<p>"My God! the Count killed!—dead!—out of the way!" For a moment I +entirely yielded to the force of this news, which to my ears meant so +much.</p> + +<p>"Yes. You don't seem grieved.—Yes: he will never annoy people again. +The Captain, though, seeing from the chateau how matters had gone, came +out with his men on horseback,—not to avenge the Count, but to ride off +as fast as possible in the other direction. So the King's guardsmen had +no trouble in getting into the chateau. A party of them, I believe, set +off in pursuit of the Captain, who has long been a thorn in the side of +people who love order. If he is caught, it can be shown that he was +involved in the treason; and there it is."</p> + +<p>"So the Captain has not been caught?"</p> + +<p>"He had not been when I heard the news."</p> + +<p>"And how did you hear it?"</p> + +<p>"From one of the guardsmen, who happens to be of my acquaintance. I saw +them as they came through Chateaudun yesterday afternoon, on their +return from this business. We had very little time for talking."</p> + +<p>"Then you were not with them at Lavardin?"</p> + +<p>"I with them? Certainly not, Monsieur. Why should I have been with them? +No; I have been staying in this part of the country for my own pleasure +the past few days: I think of buying some apple orchards near +Chateaudun.—I fancied you would be interested in this news."</p> + +<p>"I am, dear Monsieur de Pepicot,—infinitely. I am sorry I must leave +you now, but I have business of some haste. I thank you heartily, and +hope we may meet again. You know where La Tournoire is."</p> + +<p>Five minutes later, with my baskets slung before me, and having left one +horse at the inn, I was riding out of Bonneval to tell the Countess that +she was free.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> + +<h3>THE MERCY OF CAPTAIN FERRAGANT</h3> + + +<p>I had come to a place where the road runs, narrower than ever, between +banks covered with bushes. All at once the perfect loneliness and +silence were broken by three or four men leaping out of the bushes in +front of me and barring the way, one presenting a pistol, another a long +pike, while a third prepared to seize my rein. I instantly spurred +forward, to make a dash for it: at the same time I was conscious that +other fellows had sprung into the road behind me. The knave caught both +reins close to the bit, and hung on under the horse's head, while the +poor animal tried to rear. I drew sword and dagger, and leaned forward +to run this fellow through. As I made my thrust, my senses suddenly went +out in a kind of fire-streaked darkness. As I afterwards learned, I had +been struck on the back of the head with a loaded cudgel by one of the +unseen men behind. When I came to myself I was lying on the earth in a +little bushy hollow away from the road: my hands were tied behind me, +and around each ankle was fastened a rope, of which one of my assailants +held the loose end. These two fellows and their four comrades were +seated on the ground, eating the fowls and drinking the wine and milk I +had provided for the Countess. One of them wore my sword, another had my +dagger. My purse lay empty on the grass, and my horse was hobbled with +the strap from my baskets.</p> + +<p>My first thought was of the key. Searching about with my eyes, I +presently saw it, with the other one, at the edge of the bushes, where +they had doubtless been thrown as of no value.</p> + +<p>My head was aching badly, but that was nothing to the terror in my heart +for the Countess: if I was hindered from going to her, who was to give +her aid?—nay, who was to release her from that dark hiding-place? She +would die for lack of food and air,—her cell of refuge would be her +tomb!</p> + +<p>"Ah!" exclaimed one of the robbers; "the worthy young gentleman comes to +life."</p> + +<p>"You are right," said I, trying to hit the proper mood in which to deal +with them. "I'm not sorry, either, as I was in some haste to get on. My +friends, as you appear to have emptied me of everything that can be of +any use to you, what do you say to allowing my poor remaining self to go +about my business?"</p> + +<p>"And to give information about us as soon as you get to Chateaudun, eh?" +said one.</p> + +<p>I was satisfied to let them think I was bound for Chateaudun.</p> + +<p>"No," I replied. "Poor as I am, the toll you have collected from me is +not as much as my necessity of finishing my journey. So if you will +untie me, and can find it in your hearts to give me back my horse—or at +worst to let me go afoot,—I will cry quits, and give you my word of +honour to forget you completely."</p> + +<p>"You speak well, young gentleman: but it's not to us that you need +speak. We shall be taking you presently to one you can make proposals +to."</p> + +<p>"Why should you waste time in taking me to your leader, when you are +quite able to make terms yourselves?" said I. "Come. I can offer him no +more than I can offer you. Suppose it were a hundred crowns: he would +have the lion's share of it, and you poor fellows would get but a small +part. If I deal with you alone, he need be never the wiser, and you will +have the whole sum to divide among you."</p> + +<p>"And how would you get the five hundred crowns?"</p> + +<p>"I said one hundred: I would get them by going for them: I would give +you my promise on the honour of a gentleman."</p> + +<p>The ruffians laughed. "No," said the one who had spoken most. "You would +have to stay with us, and send for them. And our leader is the one to +manage that. He will make you a fine, fair offer, no doubt."</p> + +<p>My heart sank. I tried persuasion, but nothing could move them. +Doubtless each was afraid of the others, or they were very strongly +under the dominion of their chief.</p> + +<p>I asked them to give me back my keys, whereupon one of them put the keys +in his own wallet. They finished the food and drink, and made ready to +depart. Their preparations consisted mainly of blindfolding me with a +thick band of cloth, putting me on my horse, and tying together under +the animal's belly the ropes that bound my ankles. Then a man mounted +behind me, I heard another take the rein to lead, the horse was turned +around several times so as to confuse my sense of direction, and we set +off. We presently crossed a stream, and a little later I knew by sound +and smell that we were in the forest. When we had traversed a part of +it, the horse was again turned around twice or thrice, and we continued +on our way. All the time I was thinking of her who waited for me in the +darkness of her tomb-like prison.</p> + +<p>At last, by feeling the sun upon me and by other signs, I knew that we +had come to a space clear of trees. We stopped a moment, and I heard +calls exchanged and a gate opened; and then my horse's feet passed from +turf to a very rough, irregular pavement. The sound of horses in their +stalls at one side, the cooing of pigeons at the other, the gate, the +rude paving, the remote situation, all taken together informed me that +we were in an enclosed farm-yard. We stopped a second time, and my ankle +ropes being then detached from each other, I was hauled down from the +horse. The men with me were now greeted by others, who came apparently +from the side buildings. I was led forward into a stone-floored passage, +where I had to sit on a bench, guarded by I know not how many, while one +went up a flight of stairs near at hand, evidently to give an account of +their prize to somebody in authority. Presently a voice from above +called down, "Bring the prisoner hither," and I was taken upstairs and +through a doorway.</p> + +<p>My entrance drew an ejaculation from a person already in the room, who +thereupon gave orders in a low voice. I was made to sit on the floor, +and my ankles were tied close together. A chain was then wound +ingeniously about my ankle-bonds, my legs, and the cords at my wrists; +passed through a hole in the floor and around a cross beam, and finally +fastened with a padlock, in such a way that I was secured beyond power +of extricating myself.</p> + +<p>"Now, go, and wait in the passage," said the voice in which the previous +orders had been given. "But first take that rag from his eyes. He may as +well see: it will amuse him, and will not hurt us,—I will take care of +that."</p> + +<p>The band was removed, and I found myself in a bare, plastered room with +a barred window. In front of me stood a large man with a mask on his +face. Where the mask ended, his beard began, so that he presented a +visage entirely of black. The robbers who had brought me hither went +out, closing the door, and I was left alone with this man.</p> + +<p>He regarded me a moment; then dropped into a chair, with a low grunt of +laughter.</p> + +<p>"That it should be this fool, of all fools!" he began. "Who shall say +there is no such thing as luck? Monsieur, I am sure it will please you +to know into whose hands you have fallen."</p> + +<p>He took off his mask, and there was the red-splashed face of Captain +Ferragant.</p> + +<p>Surprise made me dumb for a moment, for he had hitherto disguised his +voice. He sat looking at me with a most cruel expression of malevolent +triumph.</p> + +<p>"So, this is where you have fled,—and you are the chief of the +robbers!" said I.</p> + +<p>"Call me that if you like. It matters nothing what names you prefer to +use. No ears will ever hear them but mine; and mine will not be long +afflicted with the sound."</p> + +<p>I shuddered, for I knew the implacability of this man, and my death +meant the death of the Countess,—death in the dark, mouldy basement of +the tower, death by stifling and starvation while she waited in vain for +me, a slow and solitary death, rendered the more agonizing to her mind +by suspense and fears. And this horrible fate must needs be hers just +when the cause of her sorrows and dangers had been removed! It was a +thought not to be endured.</p> + +<p>"You will have your jest," said I. "But I see no reason why you should +bear me malice. The Count de Lavardin is now a dead man, I hear. I can +no longer be against him, nor you for him. Therefore bygones should be +bygones, and I suppose you will make terms with me as with any other man +who happened to come before you as I do."</p> + +<p>"You do me an injustice, young gentleman: I am not so mercenary,—I do +not always make terms. It is true, I served the Count for pay; that is +what my company is for, and if he had not gone out of his chateau to +hunt his wife, we might have defended the place till the enemy was tired +out. But he allowed himself to be caught in the road,—you have heard +the news, then? What do they say of me?"</p> + +<p>"That when you saw the Count was killed, you ran away."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I was of no use to the Count then, and his own men in the chateau +were not well inclined toward me. They were for giving up the place, the +moment he was dead. I thought best to save my good fellows for better +service elsewhere."</p> + +<p>"Then your company and the band of robbers in this forest are the same?"</p> + +<p>"If you call them robbers,—they forage when there is need. I did not +have them all at the chateau. The good fellows who brought you here were +not at Lavardin with me. It is well, when one is in a place, to have +resources outside. And so we meet again, my young interloper! You were +rude to me once or twice at Lavardin. I shall pay you for that, and +settle scores on behalf of my friend the Count as well."</p> + +<p>"How much ransom do you want?" I asked bluntly. "Name a sum within +possibility, and let me go for it immediately: you know well you can +rely upon my honour to deliver it promptly at any place safe for both of +us, and to keep all a secret."</p> + +<p>"Do not insult me again. I have told you I am above purchase."</p> + +<p>Despite his jesting tone, my hope began to fall.</p> + +<p>"You are not above prudence, at least," I said. "I assure you there are +people who will move earth and heaven to find what has become of me, and +whose powers of vengeance are not light."</p> + +<p>"If I went in fear of vengeance, my child, I should never pass an easy +moment. I have learned how to evade it,—or, better still, to turn it +back on those who would inflict it. I fear nobody. When the game is not +worth the risk, one can always run away, as I did from Lavardin when the +Count's death threw his men into a panic."</p> + +<p>"Good God!" I cried, giving way to my feelings; "what will move you, +then? What do you wish me to do? Shall I humiliate myself to plead for +my life? shall I beg mercy? If I must descend to that, I will do so."</p> + +<p>For you will remember another life than mine was staked upon my fate, +and time was flying. How long could she endure without food, without +drink, without renewal of air, in that locked-up place of darkness?</p> + +<p>"Mercy, I beg," I cried, in a voice broken by fears for her.</p> + +<p>"You have hit upon the right way, at last," said the Captain, and my +heart bounded in spite of his continued irony of voice and manner. "You +beg for mercy, you shall have it. I will give you your life, and your +liberty as well: on your part, you will tell me where the Countess de +Lavardin is; as soon as I have made sure you have told the truth, I will +set you free."</p> + +<p>I gazed at him in silence.</p> + +<p>"Is not that merciful?" said he; "a full pardon for all your affronts +and offences, in return for a trifling piece of information?"</p> + +<p>"It is a piece of information I cannot give you," I replied.</p> + +<p>"It is a waste of time and words to try to deceive me," said the red +Captain. "A young gentleman who risks so much for a lady as you have +done, and accomplishes so much for her,—yes, they were wonders of +prowess and courage, I admit, and I compliment you upon them,—a young +gentleman who does all that for a lady does not so soon lose knowledge +of her whereabouts. Do not trifle with me, Monsieur. Where is the +Countess? There is no other way by which you can save yourself."</p> + +<p>"Do you think, then, a man who has shown the courage and prowess you +mention, for the sake of a lady, would save himself by betraying her?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you are young, and may have many years before you—a life of great +success and honour. There are other beautiful ladies in the world. In a +very short time you can forget this one."</p> + +<p>"I think it is for you to forget her," said I on the impulse. "As for +me, I would rather die!"</p> + +<p>Ah, yes, it was easy enough to die, if that were all: but to leave her +to die, and in such a manner, was another thing. Yet I knew she would +prefer death, in its worst form, to falling into the unrestrained hands +of the red Captain. The man's eyes, from the moment when he introduced +her name, betrayed the eagerness of his new hope to make himself her +master,—though he still controlled his speech. I say his new hope, for +it must have arisen upon the death of the Count, during whose life, not +daring openly to play the rival, he had found his only satisfaction in a +revenge which provided that none might have what was denied to him. It +was for me to decide now whether she should die or find herself at the +mercy of Captain Ferragant. Was it right that I should decide for her as +she would decide for herself? Was it for me to consign her to death, +though I was certain that would be her own choice? Even though the +Captain found her, was not life, with its possible chance of future +escape, of her being able to move him by tears and innocence, of some +friendly interposition of fate, preferable to the sure alternative doom?</p> + +<p>"I will leave you to make up your mind quietly," said the Captain. "When +you are ready to speak to the point, call to the men in the +passage,—one of them will come to me. The door will be left open. I +hope you will not be slow in choosing the sensible course: I cannot give +you many hours for consideration."</p> + +<p>He went out, addressed some orders to four or five men who sat on a +bench facing my door, and disappeared: I heard his feet descending the +stairs. My door was left wide open, so that I was directly in the gaze +of the men. But even if I had been unobserved, I could not have moved +from the place where I sat. Any effort to break my bonds, either of +wrist or ankle, by sheer strength, was but to cause weakness and pain. +My arms ached from the constraint of their position, and, because of +them behind me, it was impossible to lie at full length on my back. Nor +would the chain, without cutting into my thighs, permit me to lie on +either side. I was thus unable to change even my attitude.</p> + +<p>But my discomforts of body were nothing in presence of the question that +tore my mind. Minutes passed; time stretched into hours: still I +discussed with myself, to which of the fates at my choice should I +deliver her? Should I give her to death, or to the arms of the red +Captain? Little as she feared the first, much as she loathed the second, +dared I take it upon myself to assign her to death? Had it been mere +death, without the horrors of darkness and desertion, without the +anxious wonder as to why I failed her, I should not have been long in +deciding upon that. For that would be her wish, and I should not survive +her. Let us both die, I should have said; for what will life be to her +after she has fallen into the hands of this villain, and what to me +after I have delivered her into them? But the peculiar misery of the +death that threatened her, kept the problem still busy in my mind.</p> + +<p>And yet I could not bring myself to yield her to the Captain.</p> + +<p>The day had become afternoon, and I still debated. The Countess must +have expected me to return before this time. What was her state now? +what were her conjectures? Ah, thought I, if we had not found our way to +that lonely tower, if the storm had not come up the previous night, if +we had started to leave the forest earlier!—nay, if I had had the +prevision, upon hearing of the presence of robbers, to make her turn +back to Chateaudun with me, and lodge quietly there until the Mother +Superior of the convent could be sounded, and a safe way of approach be +ascertained, all would now be well. We should have heard in the meantime +of the Count's death. Yes, everything had gone wrong since the Countess +had taken the road for the forest. The third of Blaise Tripault's maxims +which he had learned from the monk came back to me with all the force of +hapless coincidence:</p> + +<p>"<i>Never leave a highway for a byway.</i>"</p> + +<p>The thought of Blaise Tripault made me think of my father. What a +mockery it was to know that I, chained helpless to the floor in this +remote stronghold of ruffians, was the son of him, the Sieur de la +Tournoire, the invincible warrior before whose sword no man could stay, +and who would have rushed to the world's end to save me or any one I +loved! To consider my need, and his power to help, and that only his +ignorance of my situation stood between, was so vexing that in my +bitterness of soul, regardless of the men in the passage, I cried out to +the empty air, "Oh, my father! If you but knew!"</p> + +<p>And then, for a moment, as if the bare wall were no impediment, I saw a +vision of my father, with his dauntless brow and grizzled beard, his +great long sword at his side, riding toward me among green trees.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> + +<h3>THE SWORD OF LA TOURNOIRE</h3> + + +<p>The light softened and faded into that of evening. Another set of men +took the places of those outside my door. No food nor drink was brought +me, and I supposed the Captain hoped by this neglect to reduce me the +sooner to a yielding state. But I was even glad to have to undergo some +of the discomforts which the Countess must needs be enduring. I gave up +hope of her life or my own, and, leaning forward so as to get some +relief of position, I fell into a kind of drowsy lassitude.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, through my window, which overlooked the court-yard, I heard a +low call at the gate, which was answered. Presently I heard the gate +close, and assumed it had been opened to let in the man who had uttered +the call. About a minute after that, there was a considerable noise in +the yard, as of men hastily assembling. Then came the voice of the +Captain, apparently addressing the whole company. When he finished, +there was a general movement of feet, as of men dispersing about the +yard, and this was followed by complete silence.</p> + +<p>The men in the passage were now joined by a comrade, who spoke to them +rapidly in a low tone. They whispered to one another in some excitement, +but did not leave their places nor take their eyes from me.</p> + +<p>The next sound I heard was of the tread of horses approaching. My +curiosity now aroused, I strained my ears. The hoof-beats came to the +gate, and then I heard a loud knock, followed by no other sound than of +the pawing and snorting of the horses as they stood. There must have +been at least a score of them.</p> + +<p>Presently the unheeded knock was repeated, and then a quick, virile +voice called out:</p> + +<p>"Hola, within there! Open the gate, in the name of the King!"</p> + +<p>My heart leaped. The voice was that of the royal guardsman who had saved +the Countess from the robbers the previous evening. But his party was +now evidently much larger than before.</p> + +<p>No answer was given to his demand. The red Captain's intent apparently +was to make these newcomers believe the place deserted. I had an impulse +to shout the truth, but I saw my guards watching me, their hands on +their weapons, and knew that my first word would be the signal for my +death. So I kept silence.</p> + +<p>"If you do not open the gate at once," the guardsman cried, "we will +open it for ourselves, in our own way."</p> + +<p>I now heard footsteps shuffling across the yard, and then one of the +robbers spoke, in the quavering tones of an old man:</p> + +<p>"Pardon, Monsieur. Pardon, I pray, but it is impossible for me to open. +I am all alone here in charge of this place, which is empty and +deserted, and I'm forbidden to open the gate to anybody but the master. +He would kill me if I disobeyed, and besides that, I have taken a vow. +There is nothing here that you can want, Monsieur."</p> + +<p>"There is shelter for the night to be had here, and that we mean to +have. We are on the business of the King, and I command you to open."</p> + +<p>"I dare not, Monsieur. I should imperil my life and my soul. There is a +lodge in the forest a mile to the east, and the keeper will see to all +your wants: there is plenty of shelter, food for yourselves, hay for +your horses, everything you can need. Here all is dismantled and empty."</p> + +<p>"Old man, you are lying. Unbar the gate in a moment, or your life will +indeed be in danger."</p> + +<p>To this the "old man" gave no answer, except to come away from the gate +with the same simulated walk of an aged person.</p> + +<p>I heard the horsemen discussing in low tones. Then, to my dismay, came +the sound of hoofs again, this time moving away. Now I was more than +ever minded to cry out, but my guards were ready to spring upon me with +their daggers. I might have sought this speedy death, but for the sudden +thought that the withdrawal of the royal guardsmen might be only +temporary.</p> + +<p>I know not how many minutes passed. The sound of the horses had died out +for some time. I became sensible of the tramp of men's feet. Were the +guardsmen returning without their horses? Suddenly the red Captain's +voice arose in the court-yard:</p> + +<p>"To the walls, you with firearms! Shoot them down as they try to batter +in the gate! All the rest, stand with me to kill them if they enter!"</p> + +<p>The tramp of the guardsmen came swiftly near. I heard the reports of +muskets and pistols. There was a loud thud, as of some sort of ram—a +fallen branch or trunk from the forest—being borne powerfully against +the gate. This was answered by defiant, profane shouts and more loud +detonations. My guards in the passage groaned, exclaimed, and clenched +their weapons, mad to be in the fray. I could only listen and wait.</p> + +<p>There was a second thud against the gate, amidst more cries and shots. +And soon came a third, the sound being this time prolonged into a crash +of timber. A shout of triumph from the invaders, a yell of execration +from the red Captain and his men, and the clash of steel, told that the +gate had given way.</p> + +<p>"Follow close, gentlemen! Trust me to clear a path!" cried a hearty +voice, cheerful to the point of mirth, which thrilled my soul.</p> + +<p>"Ay, follow him close!" cried the leader of the guardsmen; "follow the +sword of La Tournoire!"</p> + +<p>I could have shouted for joy, but that it was now worth while postponing +death by minutes.</p> + +<p>The noise of clashing swords increased and came nearer, as if the +guardsmen were pouring in through the gateway and driving the defenders +back toward the house. Now and then came the sound of a pike or reversed +musket meeting steel armour, and all the time fierce exclamations rose +from both parties. There was no more firing; doubtless the melee was too +close and general for anybody to reload.</p> + +<p>The men in the passage, as the tumult grew and approached, became as +restless as dogs in leash that whine and jump to be in the fray. At last +one of them ran into my room and looked out of the window.</p> + +<p>"Death of the devil, how they are at it!" he cried, for the information +of his comrades outside my door. "I think we shall be wanted in a minute +or two. These cursed intruders have forced the gateway. Our fellows are +twice as many as they, but their heads and bodies are in steel,—all but +one, a middle-aged man with gray in his beard. He has no armour on, but +he leads the others. Body of Satan! you should see him clear the ground +about him. He thrusts in all directions at once: his sword is as long as +a man, and it darts as quickly as the tongue of a snake. Ha! it has just +cut down old Cricharde.—And now it has stung Galparoux.—Holy +Beelzebub, what a man! He fights like a fiend, and all the time with a +gay face as if he were at his sport.—Ah! there he has let daylight into +poor Boirac.—But now—good!—at last our Captain has planted himself in +front of this devil: it was high time: he will find his match now. By +God, it will be worth looking at, the fight between the red Captain and +this stranger,—there aren't two such men in France. They are taking +each other's measure now,—each one sees what sort of stuff he has run +against. Ah!"</p> + +<p>What the last exclamation meant, I could not know. The man's attention +had become too close for further speech. But I supposed that a pass had +been made between my father and the red Captain, and that it had been +nothing decisive, for the watcher's interest continued at the extreme +tension: he kept his face against the iron bars of the window, and made +no sound beyond frequent short ejaculations. The men in the passage +called to him for further news, but he did not heed them. To my ears the +fighting continued as general as before, with the shouts of many throats +and the clash of many weapons, so that I could not at all distinguish +the single combat between my father and the red Captain from the rest of +the fray.</p> + +<p>Presently the man gave a howl of rage. "Our Captain is being forced +back!" he cried. "We are getting the worst of the fight everywhere. It's +too much!—we are needed down there! To the devil with orders!—the +Captain will be glad enough if we turn the tide. And we'd better try our +luck down there than be taken here, for short time they'll give us for +prayers, my children." While speaking he had moved from the window to my +door.</p> + +<p>"Certainly this prisoner is safe enough," answered one of the men, +whereupon he and the others in the passage ran down the stairs.</p> + +<p>But the man who had been at the window turned to me. "Safe enough,—yes, +so it looks," said he. "Young man, the Captain must think you a +magician, to take so much pains against your escaping. If it came to the +worst, I was to kill you, and the time seems to have arrived: so, if +you'll pardon me—"</p> + +<p>"You will be a great fool," said I, as he approached with his sword +drawn; "for if you are taken alive my intervention will save your neck."</p> + +<p>"How do you know it will?"</p> + +<p>"By the fact that the gentleman down there whose fighting you so admire +is my father."</p> + +<p>"Indeed? You are a gentleman: do you give your word of honour for that?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; and to speak for you if I am alive when your side is finally +defeated."</p> + +<p>"Very good, Monsieur. I will hold you to that." Upon this he left me and +followed his comrades down the stairs.</p> + +<p>His footfalls had scarcely ceased upon the stairway, when other sounds +began to come from the same direction,—those of conflict in the +entrance hall below. Somebody had drawn his antagonist, or been forced +by him, into the house. There was the quick, irregular stamp of booted +feet on the stone floor, the keen music of sword striking sword. If the +fight spread generally into the house, and the defenders fled to the +upper rooms, my position must become more critical. So I listened rather +to this noise in the hallway than to the tumult in the court-yard. By +the sound of the steel coming nearer, and that of the footfalls changing +somewhat, I presently knew that one of the fighters had sought the +vantage—or disadvantage—of the staircase. But the other evidently +pushed him hard, for soon both combatants had reached the landing at the +turn of the stairs, as was manifest from a sudden increase of their +noise in my ears. I could now hear their short ejaculations as well as +the other sounds. They continued to approach: I listened for a stumble +on the stairs, to be followed by a death-cry: but these men were +apparently heedful as to their steps, and finally they were both upon +the level footing of the passage outside my room. I wondered if this +fight would be over before it could be opposite my doorway. In a few +moments I was answered. Into my narrow view came the large figure of the +red Captain, without a doublet, his muscular arms bare, his shirt open +and soaked with perspiration, his upper body heaving rapidly as he +breathed, his face streaming, his eyes fixed upon the enemy whose swift +rapier he parried with wonderful skill. The light of evening was dim in +the passage, and perhaps for that reason the Captain backed into my +room. His adversary followed instantly.</p> + +<p>"Father!" I cried, as the Sieur de la Tournoire appeared in the doorway: +in my emotion I thought not how I endangered him by distracting his +attention.</p> + +<p>But he was not to be thrown off his guard. He moved his head a little to +the side, so as to catch a glimpse of me behind the Captain, but this +did not prevent his adroitly turning a quick thrust which his enemy made +on the instant of my cry.</p> + +<p>"Hola, Henri!" said my father, with perfect calmness except for his +quickness of breath. "What the devil are you doing here?"</p> + +<p>"Sitting chained to the floor," I replied.</p> + +<p>At this the Captain suddenly leaped back almost to where I was, and I +suppose his intention was to place himself eventually where he would +have me between him and my father and could kill me without ceasing to +face the latter. But he may have considered an attempt to pass over me +as unsafe for his subsequent footing, and so his next movement was +sidewise: my father, following close, gave him work every moment. The +Captain again stepping backward, I was now at his right and a little in +front, so that, if he could gain but a spare second, he could send a +finishing thrust my way. With my head turned so as to keep my eyes upon +him, I could see by his look that he was determined not to risk my +outliving him.</p> + +<p>My father, too busy in meeting the Captain's lunges, and in trying what +thrust might elude his defence, thought best to expend no more breath in +talk with me, and so the fighting went on without words. Suppose, +thought I, my father kills the Captain but the Captain first kills me? +Had I not better now tell my father to seek the Tower of Morlon and +release a person confined there? But if I did that, the Captain would +hear, and suppose he killed my father as well as me! I held my tongue.</p> + +<p>The Captain now maintained his position, neither giving ground nor +pressing forward. The two combatants were between me and the window, +through which still came sounds of struggle from the yard below. But +these sounds were fewer, except those of cheers, which grew more +frequent.</p> + +<p>"Good! Our friends are gaining the day!" said my father to me.</p> + +<p>"But you, Messieurs, shall not crow over it!" cried the Captain, and +made a long thrust, as swift as lightning. My father caught it on the +guard of his hilt, within short distance of his breast, at the same +instant stepping back. The Captain did not follow, but darted his sword +at me, with the cry, "Not for you the Countess!" I contracted my body +and thought myself done for. My father's impulsive forward movement, +however, disconcerted the Captain's arm in the very moment of his lunge, +and his point but feebly stung my side and flew back again, his guard +recovered none too soon to save himself. My father's thrusts became now +so quick and continuous that the Captain fell back to gain breath. My +father drove him to the wall. Shouting a curse, the Captain thrust for +my father's midriff. My father, with a swift movement, received the +sword between his arm and body, and at the same instant ran his own +rapier into the Captain's unguarded front, pushed it through his lung, +and pinned him to the wall.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus6" id="illus6"></a> +<img src="images/illus6.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"MY FATHER'S THRUSTS BECAME NOW SO QUICK AND CONTINUOUS."</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>The Captain's arms dropped, his head hung forward, and as soon as the +sword was drawn out, he tumbled lifeless to the floor.</p> + +<p>My father leaned against the wall till he regained a little breath and +energy; then he wiped his brow and sword, and came over to me.</p> + +<p>"How have they got you trussed up?" he asked. "And how came you into +their hands?—I should be amazed to find you here, if I hadn't seen +stranger things before now."</p> + +<p>While he cut the cords that bound my ankles and wrists, I told him how I +had been waylaid. "I was going with food and wine to a friend who lies +locked in a deserted tower called Morlon. She is ill to death, and may +now be dead for lack of food and air to keep up her strength. I must go +to her—"</p> + +<p>"A woman, then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a lady: I will tell you all, but there is no time to lose now. The +tower is in this forest. I must find my way there at once."</p> + +<p>"Patience, a moment," said my father. "Your chain is locked, I see:—but +no matter,—I can loosen it so that you can wriggle through." By having +cut the cords, around which the chain had been passed, he had relieved +the tautness, and was now able to do what he promised. He then took off +my boots, and, grasping me under the arms, drew me backward out of the +loosened coils as I moved them downward with my hands. At last I stood a +free man. I put on my boots, took the Captain's sword, and accompanied +my father down into the court-yard.</p> + +<p>The fight was now over there. Of the royal guardsmen, all in steel caps +and corselets, like the small party of them I had seen the previous +evening, some were wiping their faces and swords, and others were caring +for the hurts of comrades. Some of the robbers lay dead, several were +wounded, and the rest, having yielded their weapons, were looking after +their own disabled, under the direction of guardsmen. I recognized a +number of the rascals as men I had seen at the Chateau de Lavardin. The +commander of the troop of guards, he whom I had met before and whose +vigorous voice I had recognized, greeted my father with a look of +congratulation, and showed surprise at seeing me.</p> + +<p>"Tis a day of events," said my father. "I have killed the Count's +accomplice, and found my son.—Nay, there was no hope of that Captain's +surrendering."</p> + +<p>"My faith!—then your two quests are accomplished at the same moment," +said the leader of the guardsmen. "And, for another wonder, your son +turns out to be a person I have already met. But your friend, Monsieur?" +This inquiry was to me, and made with sudden solicitude.</p> + +<p>"Locked in the tower of Morlon, waiting for me to come with +food,—perhaps dying or dead.—Monsieur, I was brought here blindfold: +but I must find the way back to the tower of Morlon without delay,—it +is somewhere in this forest."</p> + +<p>"No doubt some of these gentry know the way," said the guardsman, +indicating the robbers. "We'll make it a condition of his life for one +of them to guide us."</p> + +<p>"You make me your life-long debtor, Monsieur," I cried. "And one of them +has the key: I think it is he lying yonder. As for food and wine—"</p> + +<p>"We are not without those," said the guardsman. "Our horses and supplies +are near at hand."</p> + +<p>I went among the dead and wounded to find the man who had taken +possession of my keys. Him I found, but the keys were not upon him. +Supposing he had given them to his master, I ran upstairs and examined +the pockets of the Captain, but in vain. Where to look next I knew not, +so I returned to the court-yard and made known my unsuccess.</p> + +<p>"Tut!" said my father; "a door is but a door, and we can break down that +of your tower as we broke down this gate. This gentleman"—meaning the +leader of the guardsmen—"has most courteously offered to accompany us, +with part of his noble troop, and he has chosen a guide from among the +prisoners."</p> + +<p>"Ay, they all know the tower," said the guardsman, "but this fellow +appears the most sensible.—Now, my man, how long will it take us, your +comrades bearing the pine trunk with which we rammed this gate, to reach +the tower of Morlon?"</p> + +<p>"Two hours, Monsieur, I should say," replied the robber.</p> + +<p>"It is too much," said the guardsman. "You will lead us thither in an +hour at the utmost, or at the end of the hour you shall hang to the tree +I then happen to be under." He thereupon gave orders to the guardsmen, +and to the prisoners. As night would overtake us in the forest, he had a +brief search made of the outhouses, and a number of dry pine sticks were +found, to serve as torches. Our party was to go mounted, except the +robbers impressed to carry the battering ram: so I went to the stalls at +one side of the yard, and found my own horse, chewing hay in fraternal +companionship with the animals which had doubtless brought Captain +Ferragant and his men from Lavardin.</p> + +<p>As I led out my horse, I suddenly bethought me of the man for whose life +I had promised to speak. During the final preparations for our start, I +looked again among the robbers, wondering why this man had not forced +himself upon my attention. But I soon found the reason: he lay on his +side, and when I turned him over I saw he was pierced between two ribs +and had no life left to plead for.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> + +<h3>THE MOUSTACHES OF BRIGNAN DE BRIGNAN</h3> + + +<p>My father, the leader of the guardsmen, and several of his men walked, +while I rode, to the nearby edge of encircling woods, the defeated +robbers bearing the young tree-trunk. Here my father and the guardsmen +mounted, their horses having been tied to the trees. A pair of panniers +containing wine, bread, and cold meat, was placed across my father's +horse, a very strong animal, and, torches being lighted, we proceeded +through the forest. The guide led, being attached to a halter, of which +the commander of the guardsmen held the loose end. After the commander, +my father and I came, and behind us the burdened prisoners, who were +flanked and followed by the other guardsmen.</p> + +<p>On the way, I told my father who it was that lay in the tower, and gave +him a brief account of my whole adventure at Lavardin and in the forest. +He applauded my conduct, though counselling me in future to look well +before I leaped; and he approved of my offer to the Countess of the +hospitality of La Tournoire.</p> + +<p>"But what still makes me wonder," said I, "is that you should have found +me here, so far from Paris, whither you knew I was bound, and from +Vendome, whither Nicolas must have told you I was going."</p> + +<p>"But in truth my being here is very simple," said he. "As soon as +Nicolas came back to La Tournoire with your message the day after you +set out, I started for Paris to solicit your pardon for the affair at La +Flèche. Six days later I presented myself to the Duke de Sully, who +immediately took me for an audience of the King. There was a deal of +talk about the scandalous disregard of the edict against duels, the +great quantity of good blood wasted almost every day, the too frequent +granting of pardons, and all that. But in the end Henri would not refuse +me, and I have your pardon now in my pocket. But you must not be rash +another time: I promised for you, and assured the King you were no +fire-eater and had received great provocation."</p> + +<p>"Trust me to be prudent," said I.</p> + +<p>"Good! As you had not yet arrived in Paris," continued my father, "I +supposed you had been delayed at Vendome, whither, as you say, Nicolas +told me you were going. So I thought I would start for home by way of +Vendome, as you might still be there and perhaps in some scrape or +other, or I might meet you on the road between there and Paris. I stayed +overnight in Paris, as the Duke had invited me to wait upon him the next +day. I went and was very well received. As I was about to take my leave, +I mentioned that I was going to travel by Vendome. 'Ah,' said the Duke, +'then, if you wish, you may take a hand in a little affair which will be +like an echo of the old busy days.' I opened my eyes at this, and the +Duke told me that evidence had just been brought by one of his spies, +which warranted the arrest of a powerful malcontent in the neighbourhood +of Vendome, who had long been under suspicion,—in short, the Count de +Lavardin. A party of royal guards was about to be sent off at once to +take him in his chateau at Montoire, four leagues beyond Vendome, and I +might go with them as a volunteer, or in any case I might have their +company on my journey. I was quite ready for any affair that had a taste +of the old service in it, especially as these treasonable great lords +sometimes make a stout resistance in their chateaux. And so I had the +honour of being introduced to these gentlemen and becoming for the time +their comrade. That same afternoon I set out with them for Montoire, and +we arrived there last Sunday."</p> + +<p>"Ah! you must have passed through Vendome while we were in seclusion +there."</p> + +<p>"No doubt. That Count's business had to be attended to before he got +wind of our arrival, and so there was no time for inquiring about you at +Vendome. We came upon the Count and a party of attendants in the road, +not a quarter of a league from his chateau. As we heard at the chateau +afterwards, he had been searching the roads far and wide for his wife, +who had fled from his cruelties. He had the daring to resist arrest, and +there was some fighting, in which he was killed. It appears that the +fight and his fall were seen by watchers from the tower of his chateau, +and before we could arrive at that place his accomplice, this Captain +Ferragant, who was in the chateau at the time, made his escape. As soon +as we got to the chateau, we heard of this, and, as the Captain also was +wanted, there was nothing to do but give chase. A few of the guardsmen +were left to hold the chateau in the King's name, and the rest of us, +with no more than a sup and a bite, made off after this Captain. He had +so many followers with him, that he was not difficult to trace, and for +two days we kept his track, until we lost it at the edge of this forest. +From what we learned at Chateaudun, we guessed that his refuge was +somewhere in the forest. That was yesterday afternoon: we at once broke +up into small parties to search the forest, planning to reunite at a +chosen place to-day at noon."</p> + +<p>"It was one of those parties that saved the Countess from the robbers," +said I gratefully.</p> + +<p>"Ay, and there your story crosses mine. As for the ruffians who attacked +the Countess, they escaped without affording a clue to the Captain's +whereabouts,—for doubtless they were of his band, though this was not +certain. When our parties met to-day, one of them brought a forester who +offered to show the way to the Captain's hiding-place if he were allowed +to leave before coming in sight of it. We made full preparations, and +you know the rest. At first we thought our forester had fooled us, and +that the place we had come to was what it appeared, a solitary farmstead +in a clearing of the forest. But in such a case, it is always best to +make sure, and faith, that is what we did. So you see I chanced to find +you all the sooner for not having had time to look for you. But indeed +it was a timely meeting."</p> + +<p>In about an hour after the time of starting, we came to a clear space, +in the midst of which was the tower we sought. We could see it by the +starlight before we drew near with our torches. We all dismounted, and +with a fast-beating heart, I found the door. It was still locked. +Listening at the key-hole, I could hear no sound. I called out, "Louis!" +thinking she would understand I had company to whom her sex need not be +known. I wished to warn her of our assault upon the door, so that she +might stay clear of danger thereby. But no answer came, though I called +several times. I was now in great fear lest she had died. My father, who +read my feelings in my face, suggested that she might have fallen into +very deep unconsciousness, and that the best thing to do was to break in +the door forthwith, as carefully as possible, trusting she might not be +where there was chance of anything striking. As the place where I had +left her lying was not opposite the door, and there was no reason to +suppose she had chosen another, I gave up the attempt to warn her, and +without further loss of time we made ready to attack the door. All the +men in the party, both guardsmen and prisoners, laid hold of the +tree-trunk, by means of halters and ropes fastened around it, my father +and I placing ourselves at the head. The commander of the guardsmen, who +was immediately behind me, called out the orders by which we moved in +unison. Starting from a short distance, we ran straight for the tower, +and swung the tree forward against the door at the moment of stopping. A +most violent shock was produced, but the lock and hinges still held. We +repeated this operation twice. Upon our third charge, the door flew +inward. Leaving the trunk to the others, I hastened into the dark, close +basement, and groped my way to where I had left the Countess.</p> + +<p>"Madame!—Louis!" I called softly, feeling about in the darkness.</p> + +<p>A weak voice answered,—a voice like that of one just wakened from +profound sleep:</p> + +<p>"Henri, is it you?—Mon dieu, I am so glad!—I feared some evil had +befallen you."</p> + +<p>"Ah, Louis, you are living,—thank God!"</p> + +<p>"Living, yes: I have been asleep. Once I awoke, and wondered why you bad +not returned. I prayed for you, and then I must have slept again. But +what was it awakened me?—was there not a loud noise before I heard your +voice?—Who are those men at the door with torches?"</p> + +<p>I introduced my father, who, regarding her in the torchlight, and +showing as tender a solicitude as a woman's, soon came to the conclusion +that her state was no worse than one of extreme weakness for want of +food and fresh air. He carried her out, laid her tenderly on a cloak, +and administered such food and wine as were good for her. She submitted +with the docility and trust of a child.</p> + +<p>Leaving her for awhile, my father and I consulted with the leader of the +guardsmen, and it was decided that the Countess, my father, and I should +pass the night at the tower, the weather being warm and clear. The +guardsmen would return with their prisoners to the scene of their recent +battle, where much was to be put to rights. On the morrow they would +rejoin us, and we should all proceed to Bonneval, where my father's +deposition could be added to the report which the leader of the +arresting party would have to deliver in Paris in lieu of the Count and +Captain themselves.</p> + +<p>I could not let the leader go, even for the night, without expressing +the gratitude under which I must ever feel to him, for, though he was +still ignorant of the identity of the Countess, there was no concealing +from him that the supposed youth was a person very near my heart.</p> + +<p>"Pouf!" said he, in his manly way; "'tis all chance. I have done nothing +for you, but if I had done much I should have been repaid already in the +acquaintance of Monsieur de la Tournoire."</p> + +<p>"A truce to flattery," said my father. "It is I who am the gainer by the +acquaintance of Monsieur Brignan de Brignan."</p> + +<p>"Eh! Brignan de Brignan!" I echoed.</p> + +<p>"That is this gentleman's name," said my father, wondering at my +surprise. "Have we been so busy that I have not properly made you known +to him before?"</p> + +<p>I gazed at the gentleman's moustaches: they were indeed rather longer +than the ordinary. He, too, looked his astonishment at the effect of his +name upon me.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, Monsieur," said I. "I have been staring like a rustic. I owe +you an explanation of my ill manners. I will give it frankly: it may +provide you with laughter. What I am now, I know not, but three weeks +ago I was a fool." I then told him how I had been taunted by a young +lady, whose name I did not mention, and with what particular object I +had so recently started for Paris. This was news to my father also, who +laughed without restraint. Brignan de Brignan, though certainly amused, +kept his mirth within bounds, and replied:</p> + +<p>"Faith. I know not any young lady in your part of France who has a right +to glory in my personal appearance, even if I were an Apollo,—who, by +the way, is not represented with moustaches. But I believe I know who +this girl may be,—I have met such a one in Paris, and avoided her as a +pert little minx. As for your folly, as you call it, it was no more +foolish than many a thing I have done."</p> + +<p>He had the breeding not to add, "At your age," and I loved him for that. +He and his men now set out upon their return to the farmstead, and my +father and I, after devising a more comfortable couch for the Countess +just within the open doorway of the tower, slept and watched by turns +outside.</p> + +<p>In the morning the Countess, partaking of more food, was in better +strength and spirits, and had the curiosity to ask how my father came to +be there. In telling her, I broke the news of the Count's death. For a +moment she was startled, and then pity showed itself in her eyes and +words,—pity for the man who had been swayed by such passions and +delusions, and who had died in his sin with none else to shed a tear for +him. The Captain's death, of which I next informed her, did not move her +as much.</p> + +<p>The turn of affairs caused a change of plan. She now resolved (as I had +foreseen) to return to Lavardin and do such honour to her husband's +memory as she might. Though his estates would probably, in all the +circumstances, be adjudged forfeit to the Crown, some provision would +doubtless be made for his widow. In any case, she might be sure of every +courtesy from the officer in command of the guardsmen now occupying the +chateau for the King, and there were certain jewels, apparel, and other +possessions of her own which could not be withheld from her.</p> + +<p>In the afternoon, when Brignan de Brignan and his comrades reappeared, +the Countess was able to ride: and that evening we were all in Bonneval. +Monsieur de Brignan had taken possession of several things found in an +iron-bound chest where Captain Ferragant had kept his treasures. Among +others were two papers stolen from me by the robbers,—the incriminating +fragment of a letter to the Count, and the note from the Countess which +I had found upon Monsieur de Merri. The former I destroyed, at the fire +in the inn kitchen: the latter I kept, and keep to this day. Besides +these, there were my purse; a quantity of gold, out of which I repaid +myself the amount I had been robbed of; and the two keys, which I +subsequently restored to the Chateau de Lavardin, whence they had come.</p> + +<p>We stayed the night at Bonneval. The next day the guardsmen started for +Paris, and our party of three for Montoire. As I took my leave of +Brignan de Brignan before the inn gate, I noticed that his moustaches +had undergone a diminution: indeed they now extended no further than his +lips. I supposed he had decided not to be distinguished by such marks +again. He expressed a hope of renewing acquaintance with me in Paris, +and rode off. The Countess, my father, and I turned our faces toward +Montoire, the Countess being now once more on Hugues's horse, which I +had left for a time at Bonneval. We had not gone very far, when a man +galloped after us, handed me a packet, and rode back as hastily as he +had come. I had scarce time to recognize him as a valet attached to the +party of guardsmen.</p> + +<p>I opened the packet, and found a piece of paper, to which two wisps of +hair were fastened by a thread, and on which was written in a large, +dashing hand:</p> + +<p>"<i>Behold my moustaches. Brignan de Brignan.</i>"</p> + +<p>And so, after all, I might keep my promise to Mlle. Celeste!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> + +<h3>AFTERWARDS</h3> + + +<p>Two days later we arrived at Hugues's house, and were received with +great joy by him and Mathilde. Here the Countess, now happily improved +in health, resumed the attire of her sex, which she had there put off. +My father then accompanied her to the Chateau de Lavardin, and made her +known to the guardsman in command, by whom she was treated with the +utmost consideration. With Mathilde to attend her, she remained a few +days at the chateau, and then removed with her personal possessions to +the house of Hugues, whose marriage to Mathilde was no longer delayed.</p> + +<p>But meanwhile my father and I stayed only a day at Montoire, lodging at +the inn there. I did not go to the chateau, but my father took thither +the two keys, and brought away my sword and dagger, which had been +hanging undisturbed in the hall. My farewell to the Countess was spoken +in front of Hugues's gate when she started thence for the chateau, and +not much was said, for my father and Hugues were there, as well as +Mathilde, and the horses were waiting. But something was looked, and +never did I cease to carry in my heart the tender and solicitous +expression of her sweet eyes as they rested on me for a silent moment +ere she turned away.</p> + +<p>My father and I, on our homeward journey, stopped at La Flèche and +ascertained that Monsieur de Merri's relations had learned of his fate +and taken all care for the repose of his body and soul. It appeared that +he lived at Orleans, and was used to visit cousins in Brittany: thus, +then, had he chanced to stop at Montoire and fall in with the Count de +Lavardin. Alas! poor young gentleman!</p> + +<p>And now we arrived home, to the great relief of my mother; and Blaise +Tripault would hardly speak to my father or me, for envy of the +adventures we had passed through without him. But he spread great +reports of what I had done,—or rather what I had not done, for he made +me a chief hero in the destruction of the band of robbers. But this +unmerited fame scarcely annoyed me at all, for my thoughts were +elsewhere, and I was restless and melancholy. In a few days I resolved +to go to Paris,—by way of Montoire. But before I started, I took a walk +one fine afternoon along the stream that bounded our estate: and, as I +had expected, there was Mlle. Celeste on the other side, with her drowsy +old guardian. She blushed and looked embarrassed, and I wondered why I +had ever thought her charming. Her self-confidence returned in a moment, +and she greeted me with her old sauciness, though it seemed a trifle +forced:</p> + +<p>"Ah, Monsieur, so you have come back without going to Paris after all, I +hear."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mademoiselle," I answered coldly. "But I have taken your advice +and looked a little into the eyes of danger; and I find it does make a +difference in one."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes: I believe you fought a duel, and were present when some +highway robbers were taken; and now you have come back to rest on your +laurels."</p> + +<p>"No; I came back to give you these, as I promised." And I threw her the +packet containing the moustaches of Brignan de Brignan. She opened it, +and regarded the contents with amazement. I laughed.</p> + +<p>She looked at me now with real wonder, and I perceived I had grown +several inches in her estimation.</p> + +<p>"But don't think I took them against his will," said I. "I admit I never +could have done that. He gave me them in jest, and the proudest claim I +can make in regard to him is that he honours me with his friendship. +Good day, Mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>I came away, leaving her surprised and discomfited, for which I was not +sorry. She had expected to find me still her slave, and to expend her +pertness on me as before: though she might have known that if danger +would make a man of me, it would give me a man's eyes to see the +difference between a real woman and a scornful miss.</p> + +<p>I went to Paris, careful this time to avoid conflict with bold-speaking +young gentlemen at inns; and on the way I had one precious hour at +Hugues's house, wherein—upon his marriage to Mathilde—the Countess had +established herself, to the wonder of all who heard of it. She continued +to lodge there, her affairs turning out so that she was able to repay +Hugues liberally. She occupied herself in good works for the poor about +Montoire, and so two years passed, each day making her happier and more +beautiful. Many times I went between La Tournoire and Paris,—always by +way of Montoire. In Paris I saw much of Brignan de Brignan, whose +moustaches had soon grown back to their old magnitude. And one day whom +should I meet in the Rue St. Honoré but that excellent spy of Sully's, +Monsieur de Pepicot?</p> + +<p>I begged him to come into a tavern. "There is something you owe me," +said I, when we were seated; "an account of how you got out of the +Chateau de Lavardin that night without leaving any trace."</p> + +<p>"It was nothing," said the long-nosed man meekly. "I found an empty room +with a mullioned window, on the floor beneath ours, and let myself down +to the terrace with a knotted rope I had brought in my portmanteau."</p> + +<p>"But I never heard that any rope was found."</p> + +<p>"I had passed it round the inside of the window-mullion and lowered both +ends to the ground, attached to my portmanteau. In descending I kept +hold of both parts. When I was down, I had only to release one part and +pull the rope after me. I found a gardener's tool-shed, and in it some +poles for trellis-work. I placed two of these side by side against the +garden wall, at the postern door, and managed to clamber to the top."</p> + +<p>"But I heard of nothing being found against the wall."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I drew the poles up after me, and also my portmanteau, by means of +the rope, which I had fastened to them and to my waist. I let them down +to a plank which crossed the moat there, as I had observed before ever +entering the chateau. I dropped after them, and was lucky enough to +avoid falling into the moat. I hid the poles among the bushes: not that +it mattered, but I thought it would amuse the Count to conjecture how I +had got away. One likes to give people something to think of.—As for my +horse, I had seen to it that he was kept in an unlocked penthouse.—Ah, +well! that Count thought he was a great chess-player." And Monsieur de +Pepicot smiled faintly and shook his head.</p> + +<p>At the prospect of war, I joined the army assembling at Chalons, but the +lamentable murder of the King put an end to his great plans, and I +resumed my former way, swinging like a pendulum between Paris and La +Tournoire. One soft, pink evening in the second summer after my +adventure at Lavardin, I was privileged to walk alone with the Countess +in the meadows behind Hugues's mill. Health and serenity had raised her +beauty to perfection, and there was no trace of her sorrows but the +humble dignity and brave gentleness of her look and manner.</p> + +<p>"You are the loveliest woman in the world," I said, without any sort of +warning. "Ah, Louise—surely I may call you that now—how I adore you! I +cannot any longer keep back what is in my heart. See yonder where the +sun has set—that is where La Tournoire is. It seems to beckon us—not +me alone, but us—together. When will you come?—when may I take you to +my father and mother, and hear them say I could not have found a sweeter +wife in all France?"</p> + +<p>Trembling, she raised her moist eyes to mine, and said in a voice like a +low sigh:</p> + +<p>"Ah, Henri, if it were possible! But you forget the barrier: we are not +of the same religion. I know your mother changed her faith for your +father's sake; but I could never do so."</p> + +<p>"But what if I changed for your sake?" I said, taking her hand.</p> + +<p>"Henri! will you do that?" she cried, with a joy that told all I wished +to know.</p> + +<p>In truth, I had often thought of going over to the national form of +worship. As soon, therefore, as I got to La Tournoire after this +meeting, I opened the matter to my father.</p> + +<p>"Why," said he, "I think it a sensible resolve. The times are changed; +since King Henri's death, there is no longer any hope of us Huguenots +maintaining a balance. As a party, we have done our work, and are doomed +to pass away. Those who persist will only keep up a division in the +nation, from which they can gain nothing, and which will be a source of +useless troubles. As for the religious side of the question, some people +prefer artificial forms of expression, some do not. It is a matter of +externals: and if one must needs subscribe to a few doctrines he does +not believe, who is harmed by that? These things are much to women, and +we, to whom they are less, can afford to yield. I often fancy your +mother would like to go back to the faith of her childhood,—and if she +ever expresses the wish, I will not hinder her. When I married her, all +was different: I could not have become a Catholic then. Nor indeed can I +do so now. Blaise Tripault and I are too old for new tricks: we must not +change our colours at this late day: we are survivals from a bygone +state of things. But you, my son, belong to a new France. Our great +Henri said. 'Surely Paris is worth a mass': and I dare say this lady is +as much to you as Paris was to him."</p> + +<p>So the Church gained a convert and I a wife. Hugues and Mathilde came to +live on our estate. And Mlle. Celeste, in course of time, was married to +a raw young Gascon as lean as a lath, as poor as a fiddler, and as +thirsty as a Dutchman, but with moustaches twice as long as those of +Brignan de Brignan.</p> + + +<h4>THE END.</h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Works_of_Robert_Neilson_Stephens" id="Works_of_Robert_Neilson_Stephens"></a>Works of Robert Neilson Stephens</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An Enemy to the King<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Continental Dragoon<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Road to Paris<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A Gentleman Player<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Philip Winwood<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Captain Ravenshaw<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Mystery of Murray Davenport<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Bright Face of Danger<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="L_C_Page_and_Company" id="L_C_Page_and_Company"></a>L. C. Page and Company</h2> + + +<h3>The Mystery of Murray Davenport.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Robert Neilson Stephens</span><br /> +author of "An Enemy to the King," "Philip Winwood," etc.</h3> + +<p>In his latest novel, Mr. Stephens has made a radical departure from the +themes of his previous successes. Turning from past days and distant +scenes, he has taken up American life of to-day as his new field, +therein proving himself equally capable. Original in its conception, +striking in its psychologic interest, and with a most perplexing love +problem, "The Mystery of Murray Davenport" is the most vital and +absorbing of all Mr. Stephens's novels, and will add not a little to his +reputation.</p> + +<p>"This is easily the best thing that Mr. Stephens has yet done. Those +familiar with his other novels can best judge the measure of this +praise, which is generous."—<i>Buffalo News.</i></p> + +<p>"Mr. Stephens won a host of friends through his earlier volumes, but we +think he will do still better work in his new field if the present +volume is a criterion."—<i>N. Y. Com. Advertiser.</i></p> + + +<h3>The Daughter of the Dawn.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">R. Hodder.</span></h3> + + +<p>This is a powerful story of adventure and mystery, its scene New +Zealand. In sustained interest and novel plot, it recalls Rider +Haggard's "King Solomon's Mines," and "She" but the reader will find an +added interest due to the apparent reality with which the author +succeeds in investing the sensational incidents of his plot.</p> + + +<h3>The Spoilsmen.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Elliott Flower</span><br /> +author of "Policeman Flynn," etc.</h3> + +<p>This is a story of municipal politics, depicting conditions common to +practically all large cities. The political methods employed, however, +are in most instances taken from the actual experiences of men who have +served the public in some capacity or other, and the stories told of +some of the characters are literally true. The love interest centres +around a girl of high ideals, who inspires a wealthy young man to enter +the local campaign.</p> + +<p>"The best one may hear of 'The Spoilsmen' will be none too good. As a +wide-awake, snappy, brilliant political story it has few equals, its +title-page being stamped with that elusive mark, 'success.' One should +not miss a word of a book like this at a time like this and in a world +of politics like this."—<i>Boston Transcript.</i></p> + +<p>"...It ought to do good. The world of municipal politics is put before +the reader in a striking and truthful manner; and the sources of evil +that afflict the government of our cities are laid bare in a manner that +should arrest the attention of every honest man who wishes to purge and +cleanse our local governments. It illustrates, too, very forcibly, how +difficult a work it is to accomplish such municipal reform, and how +useless it is to attempt it without united and persistent effort on the +part of those who should be most interested."—<i>Grover Cleveland.</i></p> + + +<h3>A Daughter of Thespis.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">John D. Barry</span><br /> +author of "The Intriguers," "Mademoiselle Blanche," etc.</h3> + +<p>The author's experiences as a dramatic critic have enabled him to write +with authority on the ever fascinating theme of stage life. From "the +front," in the wings, and on the boards—from all these varying points +of view, is told this latest story of player folk—an absorbing tale.</p> + +<p>"This story of the experiences of Evelyn Johnson, actress, may be +praised just because it is so true and so wholly free from melodrama and +the claptrap which we have come to think inseparable from any narrative +which has to do with theatrical experiences."—<i>Professor Harry Thurston +Peck, of Columbia University.</i></p> + + +<h3>Prince Hagen.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Upton Sinclair</span><br /> +author of "King Midas," etc.</h3> + +<p>In this book, Mr. Sinclair has written a satire of the first order—one +worthy to be compared with Swift's biting tirades against the follies +and abuses of mankind.</p> + +<p>The scheme of the book is as delightful as it is original—Prince Hagen, +son of that Hagen who killed Siegfried, grandson of Alberich, King of +the Nibelungs, comes to this earth from Nibelheim, for a completion of +his education, and it is the effect of our modern morality on a +brilliant and unscrupulous mind which forms the basis of Mr. Sinclair's +story. Prince Hagen's first exploits are at school; then in the thick of +New York's corrupt politics as a boss. Later, after he has inherited the +untold wealth of the Nibelungs, he tastes the society life of the +metropolis.</p> + +<p>As a story simply, the book is thoroughly entertaining, with a climax of +surprising power; but, as a satire, it will live.</p> + + +<h3>Earth's Enigmas.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Charles G. D. Roberts</span><br /> +author of "The Kindred of the Wild," "The Heart of the Ancient Wood," etc.</h3> + +<p>"It will rank high among collections of short stories.... His prose art, +too, has reached a high degree of perfection.... In 'Earth's Enigmas' is +a wider range of subject than in the 'Kindred of the Wild.'"—<i>Review +from advance sheets of the illustrated edition by Tiffany Blake in the +Chicago Evening Post.</i></p> + +<p>"Throughout the volume runs that subtle questioning of the cruel, +predatory side of nature which suggests the general title of the book. +In certain cases it is the picture of savage nature ravening for +food—for death to preserve life; in others it is the secret symbolism +of woods and waters prophesying of evils and misadventures to come. All +this does not mean, however, that Mr. Roberts is either pessimistic or +morbid—it is nature in his books after all, wholesome in her cruel +moods as in her tender."—<i>The New York Independent.</i></p> + + +<h3>The Silent Maid.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Frederic W. Pangborn</span>.</h3> + + +<p>A dainty and delicate legend of the brave days of old, of sprites and +pixies, of trolls and gnomes, of ruthless barons and noble knights. "The +Silent Maid" herself, with her strange bewitchment and wondrous song, is +equalled only by Undine in charm and mystery. The tale is told in that +quaint diction which chronicles "The Forest Lovers," and in which Mr. +Pangborn, although a new and hitherto undiscovered writer, is no less an +artist than Mr. Hewlett.</p> + + +<h3>The Golden Kingdom.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Andrew Balfour</span><br /> +author of "Vengeance is Mine," "To Arms!" etc.</h3> + + +<p>This is a story of adventure on land and sea, beginning in England, and +ending in South Africa, in the last days of the seventeenth century. The +scheme of the tale at once puts the reader in mind of Stevenson's +"Treasure Island," and with that augury of a good story, he at once +continues from the mysterious advent of Corkran the Coxswain into the +quiet English village, through scenes of riot, slave-trading, shipwreck, +and savages to the end of all in the "Golden Kingdom" with its strange +denizens. The character of Jacob the Blacksmith, big of body and bigger +of heart, ever ready in time of peril, will alone hold his attention +with a strong grip.</p> + + +<h3>The Promotion of the Admiral.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Morley Roberts</span><br /> +author of "The Colossus," "The Fugitives," "Sons of Empire," etc.</h3> + + +<p>We consider ourselves fortunate in being able to announce this latest +novel by Mr. Morley Roberts, who has such a wide circle of readers and +admirers. This volume contains half a dozen stories of sea life,—fresh, +racy, and bracing,—some humorous, some thrilling, all laid in +America,—a new field for Mr. Roberts,—and introduces a unique +creation, "Shanghai Smith," of "'Frisco," kidnapper of seamen, whose +calling and adventures have already interested and amused all readers of +<i>The Philadelphia Saturday Evening Post</i>.</p> + + +<h3>The Schemers.</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Tale of Modern Life</span>.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Edward F. Harkins</span><br /> +author of "Little Pilgrimages Among the Men Who Have Written Famous Books," etc.</h3> + + +<p>A story of a new and real phase of social life in Boston, skilfully and +daringly handled. There is plenty of life and color abounding, and a +diversity of characters—shop-girls, society belles, men about town, +city politicians, and others. The various schemers and their schemes +will be followed with interest—and there will be some discerning +readers who may claim to recognize in certain points of the story +certain recent happenings in the shopping and the society circles of the +Hub.</p> + + +<h3>The Captain's Wife.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">W. Clark Russell</span><br /> +author of "The Wreck of the Grosvenor," "The Mate of the Good Ship York,"' etc.</h3> + + +<p>The customary epithets applied to nautical fiction are quite +incommensurate with the excellence of Mr. Clark Russell's narrative +powers, and these are thoroughly at their best in "The Captain's Wife." +"The Captain's Wife" is the story of a voyage, and its romantic interest +hinges on the stratagem of the captain's newly wedded wife in order to +accompany him on his expedition for the salvage of a valuable wreck. The +plot thickens so gradually that a less competent novelist would be in +danger of letting the reader's attention slip. But the climax of +Benson's conspiracy to remove the captain, and carry off the wife, to +whom his lawless passion aspires, is invested with the keenest +excitement.</p> + + +<h3>The Story of the Foss River Ranch.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Ridgwell Cullom</span>.</h3> + + +<p>The scene of this story is laid in Canada, not in one of the great +cities, but in that undeveloped section of the great Northwest where +to-day scenes are being enacted similar to those enacted fifty years ago +during the settlement of the great American West. The story is intense, +with a sustained and well-developed plot, and will thus appeal to the +reading public.</p> + + +<h3>The Interference of Patricia.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Lilian Bell</span><br /> +author of "Hope Loring," "Abroad with the Jimmies," etc.<br /> +With a frontispiece from drawing by Frank T. Merrill.</h3> + + +<p>This story adds not a little to the author's reputation as a teller of +clever tales. It is of the social life of to-day in Denver—that city of +gold and ozone—and deals of that burg's peculiarities with a keen and +flashing satire. The character of the heroine, Patricia, will hold the +reader by its power and brilliancy. Impetuous, capricious, and wayward, +with a dominating personality and spirit, she is at first a careless +girl, then develops into a loyal and loving woman, whose interference +saves the honor of both her father and lover. The love theme is in the +author's best vein, the character sketches of the magnates of Denver are +amusing and trenchant, and the episodes of the plot are convincing, +sincere, and impressive.</p> + + +<h3>A Book Of Girls.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Lilian Bell</span><br /> +author of "Hope Loring," "Abroad with the Jimmies," etc.<br /> +With a frontispiece.</h3> + + +<p>It is quite universally recognized that Lilian Bell has done for the +American girl in fiction what Gibson has done for her in art—that +Lilian Bell has crystallized into a distinct type all the peculiar +qualities that have made the American girl unique among the women of the +world. Consequently, a book with a Bell heroine is sure of a hearty +welcome. What, therefore, can be said of this book, which contains no +less than four types of witching and buoyant femininity? There are four +stories of power and dash in this volume: "The Last Straw," "The +Surrender of Lapwing," "The Penance of Hedwig," and "Garret Owen's +Little Countess." Each one of these tells a tale full of verve and +thrill, each one has a heroine of fibre and spirit.</p> + + +<h3>Count Zarka.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Sir William Magnay</span><br /> +author of "The Red Chancellor."</h3> + + +<p>"The Red Chancellor" was considered by critics, as well as by the +reading public, one of the most dramatic novels of last year. In his new +book, Sir William Magnay has continued in the field in which he has been +so successful. "Count Zarka" is a strong, quick-moving romance of +adventure and political intrigue, the scene being laid in a fictitious +kingdom of central Europe, under which thin disguise may be recognized +one of the Balkan states. The story in its action and complications +reminds one strongly of "The Prisoner of Zenda," while the man[oe]uvring +of Russia for the control in the East strongly suggests the contemporary +history of European politics. The character of the mysterious Count +Zarka, hero and villain, is strongly developed, and one new in fiction.</p> + + +<h3>The Golden Dwarf.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">R. Norman Silver</span><br /> +author of "A Daughter of Mystery," etc.</h3> + + +<p>Mr. Silver needs no introduction to the American public. His "A Daughter +of Mystery" was one of the most realistic stories of modern London life +that has recently appeared. "The Golden Dwarf" is such another story, +intense and almost sensational. Mr. Silver reveals the mysterious and +gruesome beneath the commonplace in an absorbing manner. The "Golden +Dwarf" himself, his strange German physician, and the secret of the +Wyresdale Tower are characters and happenings which will hold the reader +from cover to cover.</p> + + +<h3>Alain Tanger's Wife.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">J. H. Yoxall</span><br /> +author of "The Rommany Stone," etc.</h3> + + +<p>A spirited story of political intrigue in France. The various +dissensions of the parties claiming political supremacy, and "the wheels +within wheels" that move them to their schemes are caustically and +trenchantly revealed. A well known figure in the military history of +France plays a prominent part in the plot—but the central figure is +that of the American heroine—loyal, intense, piquant, and compelling.</p> + + +<h3>The Diary of a Year.</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Passages in the Life of a Woman of the World</span>.<br /> +Edited by Mrs. <span class="smcap">Charles H. E. Brookfield</span>.</h3> + + +<p>The writer of this absorbing study of emotions and events is gifted with +charming imagination and an elegant style. The book abounds in brilliant +wit, amiable philosophy, and interesting characterizations. The "woman +of the world" reveals herself as a fascinating, if somewhat reckless, +creature, who justly holds the sympathies of the reader.</p> + + +<h3>The Red Triangle.<br /> +Being some further chronicles of Martin Hewitt, investigator.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Arthur Morrison</span><br /> +author of "The Hole in the Wall," "Tales of Mean Streets," etc.</h3> + + +<p>This is a genuine, straightforward detective story of the kind that +keeps the reader on the <i>qui vive</i>. Martin Hewitt, investigator, might +well have studied his methods from Sherlock Holmes, so searching and +successful are they. His adventures take him at times to the slums of +London, amid scenes which recall Mr. Morrison's already noted "The Hole +in the Wall." As a combination of criminal and character studies, this +book is very successful.</p> + + +<h3>COMMONWEALTH SERIES No. 7.</h3> + +<h3>The Philadelphians:</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap">As Seen by a New York Woman</span>.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Katharine Bingham</span>. (Pseud.)</h3> + + +<p>A bright and breezy tale of a charming New York woman, whose wedded lot +is twice cast in Philadelphia. The family of her first husband committed +the unpardonable sin of living north of Market Street; that of her +second husband resided south of that line of demarcation. She is thus +enabled to speak whereof she knows concerning the conventions, and draws +the characteristics of life in the Quaker city, as well as the foibles +of the "first families" with a keen and caustic, though not unkindly, +pen.</p> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30417 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/30417-h/images/cover.jpg b/30417-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..36b05cb --- /dev/null +++ b/30417-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/30417-h/images/illus1.jpg b/30417-h/images/illus1.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1443a41 --- /dev/null +++ b/30417-h/images/illus1.jpg diff --git a/30417-h/images/illus2.jpg b/30417-h/images/illus2.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..46bee73 --- /dev/null +++ b/30417-h/images/illus2.jpg diff --git a/30417-h/images/illus3.jpg b/30417-h/images/illus3.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..45fba5b --- /dev/null +++ b/30417-h/images/illus3.jpg diff --git a/30417-h/images/illus4.jpg b/30417-h/images/illus4.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..57ee52f --- /dev/null +++ b/30417-h/images/illus4.jpg diff --git a/30417-h/images/illus5.jpg b/30417-h/images/illus5.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bd5e4c1 --- /dev/null +++ b/30417-h/images/illus5.jpg diff --git a/30417-h/images/illus6.jpg b/30417-h/images/illus6.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c50e569 --- /dev/null +++ b/30417-h/images/illus6.jpg diff --git a/30417-h/images/title.jpg b/30417-h/images/title.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0b12dd7 --- /dev/null +++ b/30417-h/images/title.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..212793e --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #30417 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/30417) diff --git a/old/30417-8.txt b/old/30417-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b5186ff --- /dev/null +++ b/old/30417-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8246 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Bright Face of Danger, by +Robert Neilson Stephens and H. C. Edwards + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Bright Face of Danger + +Author: Robert Neilson Stephens + H. C. Edwards + +Release Date: November 7, 2009 [EBook #30417] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BRIGHT FACE OF DANGER *** + + + + +Produced by David Edwards, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + + + + + The Bright Face of Danger + +_Being an Account of Some Adventures of Henri de Launay, Son of the +Sieur de la Tournoire. Freely Translated into Modern English_ + + By Robert Neilson Stephens + +_Author of_ "An Enemy to the King," "Philip Winwood," "The Mystery of +Murray Davenport," etc. + + _Illustrated by_ H. C. Edwards + + +_Boston_ +L. C. Page & Company +_Mdcccciiii_ + +_Copyright, 1904_ +By L. C. Page & Company + +_Entered at Stationers' Hall, London_ +_All rights reserved_ + +Published April, 1904 +Colonial Press + +Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co. +Boston. Mass., U.S.A. + + + + + _THE BRIGHT FACE OF DANGER is, in a distant way, a sequel to "An + Enemy to the King," but may be read alone, without any reference to + that tale. The title is a phrase of Robert Louis Stevenson's._ + + _THE AUTHOR._ + + +[Illustration: "'I GIVE YOU ONE CHANCE FOR YOUR LIFE,' SAID I QUICKLY."] + + + + +CONTENTS + + + I. MONSIEUR HENRI DE LAUNAY SETS OUT ON A JOURNEY + + II. A YOUNG MAN WHO WENT SINGING + + III. WHERE THE LADY WAS + + IV. WHO THE LADY WAS + + V. THE CHATEAU DE LAVARDIN + + VI. WHAT THE PERIL WAS + + VII. STRANGE DISAPPEARANCES + + VIII. MATHILDE + + IX. THE WINDING STAIRS + + X. MORE THAN MERE PITY + + XI. THE RAT-HOLE AND THE WATER-JUG + + XII. THE ROPE LADDER + + XIII. THE PARTING + + XIV. IN THE FOREST + + XV. THE TOWER OF MORLON + + XVI. THE MERCY OF CAPTAIN FERRAGANT + + XVII. THE SWORD OF LA TOURNOIRE + + XVIII. THE MOUSTACHES OF BRIGNAN DE BRIGNAN + + XIX. AFTERWARDS + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + +"'I GIVE YOU ONE CHANCE FOR YOUR LIFE,' SAID I QUICKLY" + +"'AND NOW SHE WILL WAIT FOR HIM IN VAIN!'" + +"WE WERE INTERRUPTED BY A LOW CRY" + +"'THE WRETCHES!' SAID THE TORTURED COUNT, STAGGERING TO HIS FEET" + +"I LEAPED OVER THE BED, AND UPON THE MAN WHO WAS TRYING TO STRANGLE THE +COUNTESS" + +"MY FATHER'S THRUSTS BECAME NOW SO QUICK AND CONTINUOUS" + + + + +THE BRIGHT FACE OF DANGER + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +MONSIEUR HENRI DE LAUNAY SETS OUT ON A JOURNEY + + +If, on the first Tuesday in June, in the year 1608, anybody had asked me +on what business I was riding towards Paris, and if I had answered, "To +cut off the moustaches of a gentleman I have never seen, that I may toss +them at the feet of a lady who has taunted me with that gentleman's +superiorities,"--if I had made this reply, I should have been taken for +the most foolish person on horseback in France that day. Yet the answer +would have been true, though I accounted myself one of the wisest young +gentlemen you might find in Anjou or any other province. + +I was, of a certainty, studious, and a lover of books. My father, the +Sieur de la Tournoire, being a daring soldier, had so often put himself +to perils inimical to my mother's peace of mind, that she had guided my +inclinations in the peaceful direction of the library, hoping not to +suffer for the son such alarms as she had undergone for the husband. I +had grown up, therefore, a musing, bookish youth, rather shy and +solitary in my habits: and this despite the care taken of my education +in swordsmanship, riding, hunting, and other manly accomplishments, both +by my father and by his old follower, Blaise Tripault. I acquired skill +enough to satisfy these well-qualified instructors, but yet a volume of +Plutarch or a book of poems was more to me than sword or dagger, horse, +hound, or falcon. I was used to lonely walks and brookside meditations +in the woods and meads of our estate of La Tournoire, in Anjou; and it +came about that with my head full of verses I must needs think upon some +lady with whom to fancy myself in love. + +Contiguity determined my choice. The next estate to ours, separated from +it by a stream flowing into the Loir, had come into the possession of a +rich family of bourgeois origin whom heaven had blessed (or burdened, as +some would think) with a pretty daughter. Mlle. Celeste was a small, +graceful, active creature, with a clear and well-coloured skin, and +quick-glancing black eyes which gave me a pleasant inward stir the first +time they rested on me. In my first acquaintance with this young lady, +the black eyes seemed to enlarge and soften when they fell on me: she +regarded me with what I took to be interest and approval: her face shone +with friendliness, and her voice was kind. In this way I was led on. + +When she saw how far she had drawn me, her manner changed: she became +whimsical, never the same for five minutes: sometimes indifferent, +sometimes disdainful, sometimes gay at my expense. This treatment +touched my pride, and would have driven me off, but that still, when in +her presence, I felt in some degree the charm of the black eyes, the +well-chiselled face, the graceful swift motions, and what else I know +not. When I was away from her, this charm declined: nevertheless I chose +to keep her in my mind as just such a capricious object of adoration as +poets are accustomed to lament and praise in the same verses. + +But indeed I was never for many days out of reach of her attractive +powers, for several of her own favourite haunts were on her side of the +brook by which I was in the habit of strolling or reclining for some +part of almost every fair day. Attended by a fat and sleepy old +waiting-woman, she was often to be seen running along the grassy bank +with a greyhound that followed her everywhere. For this animal she +showed a constancy of affection that made her changefulness to me the +more heart-sickening. + +Thus, half in love, half in disgust, I sat moodily on my side of the +stream one sunny afternoon, watching her on the other side. She had been +running a race with the dog, and had just settled down on the green +bank, with the hound sitting on his haunches beside her. Both dog and +girl were panting, and her face was still merry with the fun of the +scamper. Her old attendant had probably been left dozing in some other +part of the wood. Here now was an opportunity for me to put in a sweet +speech or two. But as I looked at her and thought of her treatment of +me, my pride rebelled, and I suppose my face for the moment wore a +cloud. My expression, whatever it was, caught the quick eyes of Mlle. +Celeste. Being in merriment herself, she was the readier to make scorn +of my sulky countenance. She pealed out a derisive laugh. + +"Oh, the sour face! Is that what comes of your eternal reading?" + +I had in my hand a volume of Plutarch in the French of Amyot. Her +ridicule of reading annoyed me. + +"No, Mademoiselle, it isn't from books that one draws sourness. I find +more sweetness in them than in--most things." I was looking straight at +her as I said this. + +She pretended to laugh again, but turned quite red. + +"Nay, forgive me," I said, instantly softened. "Ah, Celeste, you know +too well what is the sweetest of all books for my reading." By my look +and sigh, she knew I meant her face. But she chose to be contemptuous. + +"Poh! What should a pale scholar know of such books? I tell you, +Monsieur de Launay, you will never be a man till you leave your books +and see a little of the world." + +Though she called me truly enough a pale scholar, I was scarlet for a +moment. + +"And what do you know of the world, then?" I retorted. "Or of men +either?" + +"I am only a girl. But as to men, I have met one or two. There is your +father, for example. And that brave and handsome Brignan de Brignan." + +Whether I loved or not, I was certainly capable of jealousy; and +jealousy of the fiercest arose at the name of Brignan de Brignan. I had +never seen him; but she had mentioned him to me before, too many times +indeed for me to hear his name now with composure. He was a young +gentleman of the King's Guard, of whom, by reason of a distant +relationship, her family had seen much during a residence of several +months in Paris. + +"Brignan de Brignan," I echoed. "Yes, I dare say he has looked more into +the faces of women than into books." + +"And more into the face of danger than into either. That's what has made +him the man he is." + +"Tut!" I cried, waving my Plutarch; "there's more manly action in this +book than a thousand Brignans could perform in all their lives--more +danger encountered." + +"An old woman might read it for all that. Would it make her manly? Well, +Monsieur Henri, if you choose to encounter danger only in books, there's +nobody to complain. But you shouldn't show malice toward those who +prefer to meet it in the wars or on the road." + +"Malice? Not I. What is Brignan de Brignan to me? You may say what you +please--this Plutarch is as good a school of heroism as any officer of +the King's Guard ever went to." + +"Yet the officers of the King's Guard aren't pale, moping fellows like +you lovers of books. Ah, Monsieur Henri, if you mean to be a monk, well +and good. But otherwise, do you know what would change your complexion +for the better? A lively brush with real dangers on the field, or in +Paris, or anywhere away from your home and your father's protection. +That would bring colour into your cheeks." + +"You may let my cheeks alone, Mademoiselle." + +"You may be sure I will do that." + +"I'm quite satisfied with my complexion, and I wouldn't exchange it for +that of Brignan de Brignan. I dare say his face is red enough." + +"Yes, a most manly colour. And his broad shoulders--and powerful +arms--and fine bold eyes--ah! there _is_ the picture of a hero--and his +superb moustaches--" + +Now I was at the time not strong in respect of moustaches. I was +extremely sensitive upon the point. My frame, though not above middle +size, was yet capable of robust development, my paleness was not beyond +remedy, and my eyes were of a pleasant blue, so there was little to +rankle in what she said of my rival's face and body; but as to the +moustaches----! + +I scrambled to my feet. + +"I tell you what it is, Mademoiselle. Just to show what your Brignan +really amounts to, and whether I mean to be a monk, and what a reader of +books can do when he likes, I have made up my mind to go to Paris; and +there I will find your Brignan, and show my scorn of such an illiterate +bravo, and cut off his famous moustaches, and bring them back to you for +proof! So adieu, Mademoiselle, for this is the last you will see of me +till what I have said is done!" + +The thing had come into my head in one hot moment, indeed it formed +itself as I spoke it; and so I, the quiet and studious, stood committed +to an act which the most harebrained brawler in Anjou would have deemed +childish folly. Truly, I did lack knowledge of the world. + +I turned from Mlle. Celeste's look of incredulous wonderment, and went +off through the woods, with swifter strides than I usually took, to our +chateau. Of course I dared not tell my parents my reason for wishing to +go to Paris. It was enough, to my mother at least, that I should desire +to go on any account. The best way in which I could put my resolution to +them, which I did that very afternoon, on the terrace where I found them +sitting, was thus: + +"I have been thinking how little I know of the world. It is true, you +have taken me to Paris; but I was only a lad then, and what I saw was +with a lad's eyes and under your guidance. I am now twenty-two, and many +a man at that age has begun to make his own career. To be worthy of my +years, of my breeding, of my name, I ought to know something of life +from my own experience. So I have resolved, with your permission, my +dear father and mother, to go to Paris and see what I may see." + +My mother had turned pale as soon as she saw the drift of my speech, and +was for putting every plea in the way. But my father, though he looked +serious, seemed not displeased. We talked upon the matter--as to how +long I should wish to stay in Paris, whether I had thought of aiming at +any particular career there, and of such things. I said I had formed no +plans nor hopes: these might or might not come after I had arrived in +Paris and looked about me. But see something of the world I must, if +only that I might not be at disadvantage in conversation afterward. It +was a thing I could afford, for on the attainment of my majority my +father had made over to me the income of a portion of our estate, a +small enough revenue indeed, but one that looked great in my eyes. He +could not now offer any reasonable objection to my project, and he plead +my cause with my mother, without whose consent I should not have had the +heart to go. Indeed, knowing what her dread had always been, and seeing +the anxious love in her eyes as she now regarded me, I almost wavered. +But of course she was won over, as women are, though what tears her +acquiescence caused her afterwards when she was alone I did not like to +think upon. + +She comforted herself presently with the thought that our faithful +Blaise Tripault should attend me, but here again I had to oppose her. +For Blaise, by reason of his years and the service he had done my father +in the old wars, was of a dictatorial way with all of us, and I knew he +would rob me of all responsibility and freedom, so that I should be +again a lad under the thumb of an elder and should profit nothing in +self-reliance and mastership. Besides this reason, which I urged upon my +parents, I had my own reason, which I did not urge, namely, that I +should never dare let Blaise know the special purpose of my visit to +Paris. He would laugh me out of countenance, and yet ten to one he would +in the end deprive me of the credit of keeping my promise, by taking its +performance upon himself. That I might be my own master, therefore, I +chose as my valet the most tractable fellow at my disposal, one Nicolas, +a lank, knock-kneed jack of about my own age, who had hitherto made +himself of the least possible use, with the best possible intentions, +between the dining-hall and the kitchen. And yet he was clever enough +among horses, or anywhere outdoors. My mother, though she wondered at my +choice and trembled to think how fragile a reed I should have to rely +on, was yet not sorry, I fancy, at the prospect of ridding her house of +poor blundering Nicolas in a kind and creditable way. I had reason to +think Nicolas better suited for this new service, and, by insisting, I +gained my point in this also. + +I made haste about my equipment, and in a few days we set forth, myself +on a good young chestnut gelding, Nicolas on a strong black mule, which +carried also our baggage. Before I mounted, and while my mother, doing +her best to keep back her tears, was adding some last article of comfort +to the contents of my great leather bag, my father led me into the +window recess of the hall, and after speaking of the letters of +introduction with which he had provided me, said in his soldierly, +straightforward manner: + +"I know you have gathered wisdom from books, and it will serve you well, +because it will make you take better heed of experience and see more +meaning in it. But then it will require the experience to give your +book-learned wisdom its full force. Often at first, in the face of +emergency, when the call is for action, your wisdom will fly from your +mind; but this will not be the case after you have seen life for +yourself. Experience will teach you the full and living meaning of much +that you now know but as written truth. It may teach you also some +things you have never read, nor even dreamt of. What you have learned by +study, and what you must learn by practice only, leave no use for any +good counsel I might give you now. Only one thing I can't help saying, +though you know it already and will doubtless see it proved again and +again. There are many deceivers in the world. Don't trust the outward +look of things or people. Be cautious; yet conceal your caution under +courtesy, for nothing is more boorish than open suspicion. And remember, +too, not to think bad, either, from appearances alone. You may do +injustice that way. Hold your opinion till the matter is tested. When +appearances are fair, be wary without showing it; when they are bad, +regard your safety but don't condemn. In other words, always mingle +caution with urbanity, even with kindness.--I need not speak of the name +you have to keep unsullied. Honour is a thing about which you require no +admonitions. You know that it consists as much in not giving affronts as +in not enduring them, though many who talk loudest about it seem to +think otherwise. Indeed this is an age in which honour is prated of most +by those who practise it least. Well, my son, there are a thousand +things I would say, but that is all I shall say. Good-bye--may the good +God bless and protect you." + +I had much to do to speak firmly and to perceive what I was about, in +taking my leave, for my mother could no longer refrain from sobbing as +she embraced me at the last, and my young brother and sister, catching +the infection, began to whimper and to rub their eyes with their fists. +Knowing so much more of my wild purpose than they did, and realizing +that I might never return alive, I was the more tried in my resolution +not to disgrace with tears the virgin rapier and dagger at my side. But +finally I got somehow upon my horse, whose head Blaise Tripault was +holding, and threw my last kisses to the family on the steps. I then +managed voice enough to say "Good-bye, Blaise," to the old soldier. + +"Nay, I will walk as far as to the village," said he, in his gruff, +autocratic way. "I have a word or two for you at parting." + +Throwing back a somewhat pallid smile to my people, tearfully waving +their adieus, I turned my horse out of the court-yard, followed by +Nicolas on the mule, and soon emerging from the avenue, was upon the +road. Blaise Tripault strode after me. When I came in front of the inn +at the end of the village, he called out to stop. I did so, and Blaise, +coming up to my stirrup, handed me a folded paper and thus addressed me: + +"Of course your father has given you all the advice you need. Nobody is +more competent than he to instruct a young man setting out to see the +world. His young days were the days of hard knocks, as everybody knows. +But as I was thinking of your journey, there came into my head an old +tale a monk told me once--for, like your father, I was never too much of +a Huguenot to get what good I might out of any priest or monk the Lord +chose to send my way. It's a tale that has to do with travelling, and +that's what made me think of it--a tale about three maxims that some +wise person once gave a Roman emperor who was going on a journey. I half +forget the tale itself, for it isn't much of a tale; but the maxims I +remembered, because I had had experience enough to realize their value. +I've written them out for you there: and if you get them by heart, and +never lose sight of them, you'll perhaps save yourself much repentance." + +He then bade me good-bye, and the last I saw of him he was entering the +inn to drink to my good fortune. + +When I had got clear of the village, I unfolded Blaise's paper and read +the maxims: + +1. "_Never undertake a thing unless you can see your way to the end of +it._" + +2. "_Never sleep in a house where the master is old and the wife +young._" + +3. "_Never leave a highway for a byway._" + +Very good counsel, thought I, and worth bearing in mind. It was true, my +very journey itself was, as to its foolhardy purpose, a violation of the +first maxim. But that could not be helped now, and I could at least heed +that piece of advice, as well as the others, in the details of my +mission. When I thought of that mission, I felt both foolish and +heavy-hearted. I had not the faintest idea yet of how I should go about +encountering Brignan de Brignan and getting into a quarrel with him, and +I had great misgivings as to how I should be able to conduct myself in +that quarrel, and as to its outcome. Certainly no man ever took the road +on a more incredible, frivolous quest. Of all the people travelling my +way, that June morning, T was probably one of the most thoughtful and +judiciously-minded; yet of every one but myself the business in being +abroad was sober and reasonable, while mine was utterly ridiculous and +silly. And the girl whose banter had driven me to it--perhaps she had +attached no seriousness whatever to my petulant vow and had even now +forgotten it. With these reflections were mingled the pangs of parting +from my home and family; and for a time I was downcast and sad. + +But the day was fine. Presently my thoughts, which at first had flown +back to all I had left behind, began to concern themselves with the +scenes around me; then they flew ahead to the place whither I was +bound:--this is usually the way on journeys. At least, thought I, I +should see life, and perchance meet dangers, and so far be the gainer. +And who knows but I might even come with credit out of the affair with +Monsieur de Brignan?--it is a world of strange turnings, and the upshot +is always more or less different from what has been predicted. So I took +heart, and already I began to feel I was not exactly the pale scholar of +yesterday. It was something to be my own master, on horseback and +well-armed, my eyes ranging the wide and open country, green and brown +in the sunlight, dotted here and there with trees, sometimes traversed +by a stream, and often backed by woods of darker green, which seemed to +hold secrets dangerous and luring. + +Riding gave me a great appetite, and I was fortunate in coming upon an +inn at Durtal whose table was worthy of my capacity. After dinner, we +took the road again and proceeded at an easy pace toward La Flèche. + +Toward the middle of the afternoon a vague uneasiness stole over me, as +if some tragic circumstance lay waiting on the path--to me +unknown--ahead. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +A YOUNG MAN WHO WENT SINGING + + +It was about five o'clock when we rode into La Flèche, and the feeling +of ill foreboding still possessed me. Partly considering this, and +partly as it was improbable I should find the best accommodations +anywhere else short of Le Mans, I decided to put up here for the night. +As I rode into the central square of the town, I saw an inn there: it +had a prosperous and honest look, so I said, "This is the place for my +money," and made for it. The square was empty and silent when I entered +it, but just as I reached the archway of the inn, I heard a voice +singing, whereupon I looked around and saw a young man riding into the +square from another street than that I had come from. He was followed by +a servant on horseback, and was bound for the same inn. It seems strange +in the telling, that a gentleman should ride singing into a public +square, as if he were a mountebank or street-singer, yet it appeared +quite natural as this young fellow did it. The song was something about +brave soldiers and the smiles of ladies--just such a gay song as so +handsome a young cavalier ought to sing. I looked at him a moment, then +rode on into the inn-yard. This little act, done in all thoughtlessness, +and with perfect right, was the cause of momentous things in my life. If +I had waited to greet that young gentleman at the archway, I believe my +history would have gone very differently. As it was, I am convinced that +my carelessly dropping him from my regard, as if he were a person of no +interest, was the beginning of what grew between us. For, as he rode in +while I was dismounting, he threw at me a look of resentment for which +there was nothing to account but the possible wound to his vanity. His +countenance, symmetrically and somewhat boldly formed, showed great +self-esteem and a fondness for attention. His singing had suddenly +stopped. I could feel his anger, which was probably the greater for +having no real cause, I having been under no obligation to notice him or +offer him precedence. + +He called loudly for an ostler, and, when one came out of the stables, +he coolly gave his orders without waiting for me, though I had been +first in the yard. He bade his own servant see their horses well fed, +and then made for the inn-door, casting a scornful glance at me, and +resuming his song in a lower voice. It was now my turn to be angry, and +justly, but I kept silence. I knew not exactly how to take this sort of +demonstration: whether it was a usual thing among travellers and to be +paid back only in kind, or whether for the sake of my reputation I ought +to treat it as a serious affront. It is, of course, childish to take +offence at a trifle. In my ignorance of what the world expects of a man +upon receipt of hostile and disparaging looks, I could only act as one +always must who cannot make up his mind--do nothing. After seeing my +horse and mule attended to, I bade Nicolas follow with the baggage, and +entered the inn. + +The landlord was talking with my young singing gentleman, but made to +approach me as I came in. The young gentleman, however, speaking in a +peremptory manner, detained him with questions about the roads, the town +of La Flèche, and such matters. As I advanced, the young gentleman got +between me and the host, and continued his talk. I waited awkwardly +enough for the landlord's attention, and began to feel hot within. A +wench now placed on a table some wine that the young man had ordered, +and the landlord finally got rid of him by directing his attention to +it. As he went to sit down, he bestowed on me the faintest smile of +ridicule. I was too busy to think much of it at the moment, in ordering +a room for the night and sending Nicolas thither with my bag. I then +called for supper and sat down as far as possible from the other guest. +He and I were the only occupants of the room, but from the kitchen +adjoining came the noise of a number of the commonalty at food and +drink. + +"Always politeness," thought I, when my wine had come, and so, in spite +of his rudeness and his own neglect of the courtesy, as I raised my +glass I said to him, "Your health, Monsieur." + +He turned red at the reproach implied in my observance, then very +reluctantly lifted his own glass and said, "And yours," in a surly, +grudging manner. + +"It has been a pleasant day," I went on, resolved not to be churlish, at +all hazards. + +"Do you think so?" he replied contemptuously, and then turned to look +out of the window, and hummed the tune he had been singing before. + +I thought if such were the companions my journey was to throw me in +with, it would be a sorry time till I got home again. But my young +gentleman, for all his temporary sullenness, was really of a talkative +nature, as these vain young fellows are apt to be, and when he had +warmed himself a little with wine even his dislike of me could not +restrain his tongue any longer. + +"You are staying here to-night, then?" he suddenly asked. + +"Yes, and you?" + +"I shall ride on after supper. There will be starlight." + +"I have used my horse enough to-day." + +"And I mine, for that matter. But there are times when horses can't be +considered." + +"You are travelling on important business, then?" + +"On business of haste. I must put ground behind me." + +"I drink to the success of your business, then." + +"Thank you, I am always successful. There is another toast, that should +have first place. The ladies, Monsieur." + +"With all my heart." + +"That's a toast I never permit myself to defer. Mon dieu, I owe them +favours enough!" + +"You are fortunate," said I. + +"I don't complain. And you?" + +"Even if I were fortunate in that respect, I shouldn't boast of it." + +He coloured; but laughed shortly, and said, "It's not boasting to tell +the mere truth." + +"I was thinking of myself, not of you, Monsieur." This was true enough. + +"I can readily believe you've had no great luck that way," he said +spitefully, pretending to take stock of my looks. I knew his remark was +sheer malice, for my appearance was good enough--well-figured and +slender, with a pleasant, thoughtful face. + +"Let us talk of something else," I answered coldly, though I was far +from cool in reality. + +"Certainly. What do you think of the last conspiracy?" + +"That it was very rash and utterly without reason. We have the best king +France ever knew." + +"Yes, long live Henri IV.! They say there are still some of the +malcontents to be gathered in. Have you heard of any fresh arrests?" + +"Nothing within two weeks. I don't understand how these affairs can +possibly arise, after that of Biron. Men must be complete fools." + +"Oh, there are always malcontents who still count on Spain, and some +think even the League may be revived." + +"But why should they not be contented? I can't imagine any grievances." + +"Faith, my child, where have you been hiding yourself? Don't you know +the talk? Do you suppose everybody is pleased with this Dutch alliance? +And the way in which the King's old Huguenot comrades are again to be +seen around him?" + +"And why not? Through everything, the King's heart has always been with +the protestants." + +"Oho! So you are one of the psalm-singers, then?" His insulting tone and +jeering smile were intolerable. + +"I have sung no psalms here, at least," I replied trembling with anger; +"or anything else, to annoy the ears of my neighbours." + +"So you don't like my singing?" he cried, turning red again. + +I had truly rather admired it, but I said, "I have heard better." + +"Indeed? But how should you know. For your education in taste, I may +tell you that good judges have thought well of my singing." + +"Ay, brag of it, as you do of your success with the ladies." + +He stared at me in amazement, then cried. "Death of my life, young +fellow!--" But at that instant his servant brought in his supper, and he +went no further. My own meal was before me a minute later, and we both +devoted ourselves in angry silence to our food. I was still full of +resentment at his obtrusive scorn of myself and my religious party, and +I could see that he felt himself mightily outraged at my retorts. From +the rapid, heedless way in which he ate, I fancied his mind was busy +with all sorts of revenge upon me. + +When he had finished, at the same time as I did, and our servants had +gone to eat their supper in the kitchen, he leaned against the wall, and +said, "I am going to sing, Monsieur, whether it pleases you or not." And +forthwith he began to do so. + +My answer was to put on a look of pain, and walk hastily from the room, +as if the torture to my ears were too great for endurance. + +I was not half-way across the court-yard before I heard him at my heels +though not singing. + +"My friend," said he, as I turned around, "I don't know where you were +bred, but you should know this: it's not good manners to break from a +gentleman's company so unceremoniously." + +It occurred to me that because I had taken his insults from the first, +through not knowing how much a sensible man should bear, he thought he +might safely hector me to the full satisfaction of his hurt vanity. + +"So you do know something of good manners, after all?" I replied. "I +congratulate you." + +His eyes flashed new wrath, but before he knew how to answer, and while +we were glaring at each other like two cocks, though at some distance +apart, out came Nicolas from the kitchen to ask if I wished my cloak +brought down, which he had taken up with the bag. In his rustic +innocence he stepped between my nagging gentleman and myself. The +gentleman at this ran forward in an access of rage, and threw Nicolas +aside, saying, "Out of the way, knave! You're as great a clown as your +master." + +"Hands off! How dare you?" I cried, clapping my hand to my sword. + +"If you come a step nearer, I'll kill you!" he replied, grasping his own +hilt. + +I sent a swift glance around. There was no witness but Nicolas. Yet a +scuffle would draw people in ten seconds. Even at that moment, with my +heart beating madly, I thought of the edict against duelling: so I said, +as calmly as I could: + +"If you dare draw that sword, I see trees beyond that gateway--a garden +or something. It will be quieter there." I pointed to a narrow exit at +the rear of the yard. + +"I will show you whom you're dealing with, my lad!" he said, +breathlessly, and made at once for the gate. I followed. I could see now +that, though a bully, he was not a coward, and the discovery fell upon +me with a sense of how grave a matter I had been drawn into. + +At the gate I looked around, and saw Nicolas following, his eyes wide +with alarm. "Stay where you are, and not a word to anybody," I ordered, +and closed the gate after me. My adversary led the way across a +neglected garden, and out through a postern in a large wall, to where +there was a thicker growth of trees. We passed among these to a little +open space near the river, from which it was partly veiled by a tangled +mass of bushes. The unworn state of the green sward showed that this was +a spot little visited by the townspeople. + +"We have stumbled on the right place," said the young gentleman, with an +assumption of coolness. "It's a pity the thing can't be done properly, +with seconds and all that." And he proceeded to take off his doublet. + +I was sobered by the time spent in walking to the place, so I said, +"It's not too late. Monsieur, if you are willing to apologize." + +"I apologize! Death of my life! You pile insult on insult." + +"I assure you, it is you who have been the insulter." + +He laughed in a way that revived my heat, and asked, "Swords alone, or +swords and daggers?" + +"As you please." By this time I had cast off my own doublet. + +"Rapiers and daggers, then," he said, and flung away his scabbard and +sheath. I saw the flash of my own weapons a moment later, and ere I had +time for a second thought on the seriousness of this event--my first +fight in earnest--he was keeping me busy to parry his point and watch +his dagger at the same time. I was half-surprised at my own success in +turning away his blade, but after I had guarded myself from three or +four thrusts, I took to mind that offence is the best defence, and +ventured a lunge, which he stopped with his dagger only in the nick of +time to save his breast. His look of being almost caught gave me +encouragement, making me realize I had received good enough lessons from +my father and Blaise Tripault to enable me to practise with confidence. +So I pushed the attack, but never lost control of myself nor became +reckless. It was an inspiriting revelation to me to find that I could +indeed use my head intelligently, and command my motions so well, at a +time of such excitement. We grew hot, perspired, breathed fast and loud, +kept our muscles tense, and held each other with glittering eyes as we +moved about on firm but springy feet. We must have fought very swiftly, +for the ring of the steel sounded afterward in my ears as if it had been +almost continuous. How long we kept it up, I do not exactly know. We +came to panting more deeply, and I felt a little tired, and once or +twice a mist was before my eyes. At last he gave me a great start by +running his point through my shirt sleeve above the elbow. Feeling +myself so nearly stung, I instinctively made a long swift thrust: up +went his dagger, but too late: my blade passed clear of it, sank into +his left breast. He gave a sharp little cry, and fell, and the hole I +had made in his shirt was quickly circled with crimson. + +"Victory!" thought I, with an exultant sense of prowess. I had fleshed +my sword and brought low my man! But, as I looked down at him and he lay +perfectly still, another feeling arose. I knelt and felt for his heart: +my new fear was realized. With bitter regret I gazed at him. All the +anger and scorn had gone out of his face: it was now merely the handsome +boyish face of a youth like myself, expressing only a manly pride and +the pain and surprise of his last moment. It was horrible to think that +I had stopped this life for ever, reduced this energy and beauty to +eternal silence and nothingness. A weakness overwhelmed me, a profound +pity and self-reproach. + +I heard a low ejaculation behind me, which made me start. But I saw it +was only Nicolas, who, in spite of my orders, had stolen after me, in +terror of what might happen. + +"Oh, heaven!" he groaned, as he stared with pale face and scared eyes at +the prostrate form. "You have killed him, Monsieur Henri." + +"Yes. It is a great pity. After all, he merely thought a little too well +of himself and was a little inconsiderate of other people's feelings. +But who is not so, more or less? Poor young man!" + +"Ah, but think of us, Monsieur Henri--think of yourself, I mean! We had +better be going, or you will have to answer for this." + +"That is so. We must settle with the landlord and get away from this +town before this gentleman is missed." + +"And alas! you arranged to stay all night. The landlord will be sure to +smell something. Come, I beg of you: there's not a moment to lose. Think +what there's to do--the bag to fetch down, the horse and mule to saddle. +We shall be lucky if the officers aren't after us before we're out of +the town." + +"You are right.--Poor young man! At least I will cover his face with his +doublet before I go." + +"I'll do that, Monsieur. You put on your own doublet, and save time." + +I did so. As Nicolas ran past me with the slain man's doublet, something +fell out of the pocket of it. This proved to be a folded piece of paper, +like a letter, but with no name outside. I picked it up. Fancying it +might give a clue to my victim's identity, and as the seal was broken, I +opened it. There was some writing, in the hand of a woman,--two lines +only: + +"_For heaven's sake and pity's, come to me at once. My life and honour +depend on you alone._" + +As the missive was without address, so was it without signature. It must +have been delivered by some confidential messenger who knew the +recipient, and yet by whom a verbal message was either not thought +expedient, or required to be confirmed by the written appeal. The +recipient must be familiar with the sender's handwriting. The note +looked fresh and clean, and therefore must have been very lately +received. + +"Come, Monsieur Henri," called Nicolas, breaking in upon my whirling +thoughts. "Why do you wait?--What is the matter? What do you see on that +paper?" + +"And this," I answered, though of course Nicolas could not understand +me, "is the business he was on! This is why he had need to put ground +behind him. He was going on to-night. He must have stopped only to +refresh his horses." + +"Yes, certainly, but what of that? What has his business to do with us?" + +"I have prevented his carrying it out. My God!--a woman's life and +honour--a woman who relies on him--and now she will wait for him in +vain! At this very moment she may be counting the hours till he should +arrive!--What have I done?" + +[Illustration: "'AND NOW SHE WILL WAIT FOR HIM IN VAIN!'"] + +"You, Monsieur? It's not your fault if he chose to get into a quarrel +with you. He must have valued his business highly if he dared risk it in +a fight." + +"Of course he thought from my manner that he could have his own way with +me. There would be no loss of time--his horses needed rest, for greater +speed in the long run. He knew what he was about--there's no doubt of +his haste. 'Come to me at once. My life and honour depend on you alone.' +And while she waits and trusts, I step in and cut off her only +hope!--not this poor young fellow's life alone, but hers also, Nicolas! +It mustn't be so--not if I can any way help it. I see now what I am +called upon to do." + +"What is that, Monsieur Henri?" asked Nicolas despairingly. + +"To carry out this gentleman's task which I have interrupted--to go in +his stead to the assistance of this lady, whoever and wherever she may +be!" + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +WHERE THE LADY WAS + + +"Very well, Monsieur," said Nicolas after a pause, in a tone which meant +anything but very well. "But first you will have enough to do to save +yourself. This gentleman will soon be missed. He was in haste to go on, +as you say. His servant will be wondering why he delays, and the +landlord will become curious about his bill." + +"Yes, but I must think a moment. Where is this poor lady? Who is the +gentleman? There may be another letter--a clue of some sort." + +I hurriedly examined the young man's pockets, but found nothing written. +His purse I thought best to leave where it was: to whom, indeed, could I +entrust it with any chance of its being more honestly dealt with than by +those who should find the body? The innkeeper and the gentleman's +servant, with their claims for payment, would see to that. But I kept +the lady's note. + +"Well," said I, "I must have a talk with the valet. I must find out +where this gentleman was going, for that must be the place where the +lady is." + +"But the valet doesn't know where the gentleman was going. He was +talking to me about that in the stables." + +"That's very strange--not to know his master's destination." + +"He knows very little of his master's affairs: he was hired only +yesterday, at Sablé. The gentleman was staying at the inn there. +Yesterday he engaged this man, and said he was going to travel on at the +end of the week. But this morning he suddenly made up his mind to start +at once, and came off without saying where he was bound for. Until I +told him, the man didn't know that the name of this town was La Flèche." + +"And what else did he tell you?" + +"That's all. He was only grumbling about having to come away so +unexpectedly, and being so in the dark about his master's plans." + +"You're sure he didn't say what caused his master to change his mind and +start at once?" + +"He said nothing more, Monsieur." + +"Did he mention his master's name?" + +"No, we didn't get as far as that. It was only his desire to complain to +somebody, that made him speak to me; and I was too busy with the horses +to say much in reply." + +"Then you didn't give my name--to him or any one else here?" + +"Not to a soul, Monsieur." + +"That's fortunate. Well, we must be attending to our business. I will +pay the landlord, and give him some reason for riding on. While you are +getting the animals ready, I will try to sound this valet a little +deeper. Come." + +Without another look behind, we hastened back to the inn. + +"It's a fine evening," said I to the landlord, "and that gentleman I saw +here awhile ago has given me the notion of riding on while the air is +cool." I spoke as steadily as I could, and I suppose if the landlord +detected any want of ease he put it down to the embarrassment of +announcing a change of mind. In any case, he was not slow to compute the +reckoning, nor I to pay it. Then, after seeing my bag and cloak brought +down, I went in search of the young gentleman's valet. I found him in +the kitchen, half way through a bottle of wine. + +"Your master has not yet ridden on, then?" said I, dropping carelessly +on the bench opposite him. + +"No, Monsieur," he replied unsuspectingly. He seemed more like a country +groom than a gentleman's body servant. + +"I have decided to go on this evening, in imitation of him," I +continued. + +"Then your servant had better come back and finish his supper. It's +getting cold yonder. Just as he was going to begin eating, he thought of +something, and went out, and hasn't returned yet." + +It was, alas, true. In my excitement I had forgotten all about Nicolas's +supper, which he had left in order to see if I wanted my cloak for the +cool of the evening. + +"I sent him on an errand," I replied. "He shall sup doubly well later. +As I was about to say, your master--by the way, if I knew his name I +could mention him properly: we have so far neglected to give each other +our names." + +"Monsieur de Merri is my master's name, as far as I know it. I have been +with him only since yesterday." He spoke in a somewhat disgruntled way, +as if not too well satisfied with his new place. + +"So I have heard." I said. "And it seems you were hustled off rather +sooner than you expected, this morning." + +"My master did change his mind suddenly. Yesterday he said he wouldn't +leave Sablé till the end of the week." + +"Yes; but of course when he received the letter--" I stopped, as if not +thinking worth while to finish, and idly scrutinized the floor. + +"What letter, Monsieur?" inquired the fellow, after a moment. + +"Why, the letter that made him change his mind. Didn't you see the +messenger?" + +"Oh, and did that man bring a letter, then?" + +"Certainly. How secretive your master is. The man from--from--where +_did_ he come from, anyhow?" + +"A man came to see my master at Sablé early this morning--the only man I +know of. I heard him say that he had ridden all the way from Montoire, +following my master from one town to another." + +"Yes, that is the man, certainly," said I in as careless a manner as +possible, fearful lest my face should betray the interest of this +revelation to me. "Well, I think I will go and see what has become of my +servant. When you have finished that bottle, drink another to me." I +tossed him a silver piece, and sauntered out. Nicolas was fastening the +saddle girth of my horse in the yard. An ostler was attending to the +mule. The innkeeper was looking on. I asked him about the different +roads leading from the place, and by the time I had got this information +all was ready. We mounted, I replied to the landlord's adieu, threw a +coin to the ostler, and clattered out under the archway. From the square +I turned South to cross the Loir, passing not far from the place where, +surrounded by trees and bushes, the body of my adversary must still be +lying. + +"Poor young man!" said I. "Once we get safe off, I hope they will find +him soon." + +"They will soon be seeking him, at least," replied Nicolas. "Before you +came out of the kitchen, the landlord was wondering to the ostler what +had become of him." + +"As he was to ride on at once, his absence will appear strange. Well, +I'm not sorry to think he will be found before he lies long exposed. The +authorities, no doubt, will take all measures to find out who he is and +notify his people." + +"And to find the person who left him in that state," said Nicolas +fearfully. + +"Well, I have a start, and shall travel as fast as my horse can safely +carry me." + +"But wherever you go, Monsieur, the law will in time come up with you." + +"I have thought of that; and now listen. This is what you are to do. We +shall come very soon to a meeting of roads. You will there turn to the +right--" + +"And leave you, Monsieur Henri?" + +"Yes, it is necessary for my safety." + +"And you will go on to Paris alone?" + +"I am not going to Paris immediately--at least, I shall not go by way of +Le Mans and Chartres, as I had intended. We have already turned our +backs on that road, when we left the square in front of the inn. I shall +go by way of Vendome." Montoire--where the letter had evidently come +from and where therefore the lady probably was--lay on the road to +Vendome. + +"And I, Monsieur?" + +"You are to go back to La Tournoire, but not by the way we have come +over. This road to the right that you will soon take leads first to +Jarzé, and there you will find a road to the West which will bring you +to our own highway not two leagues from home." I repeated these +directions as we left La Flèche behind us, till they seemed firmly +lodged in Nicolas's head. "I don't know how long it will take you to do +this journey," I added, "nor even when you may expect to reach Jarzé. +You mustn't overdo either the mule or yourself. Stop at the first +country inn and get something to eat, before it is too late at night to +be served. Go on to-night as far as you think wise. It may be best, or +necessary, to sleep in some field or wood, not too near the road, as I +shall probably do toward the end of the night." + +"I shall certainly do that, Monsieur. It is a fine night." + +"When you get to La Tournoire, you are to tell my father that I am going +on without an attendant, but by way of Vendome. You needn't say anything +about what you suppose my purpose to be: you needn't repeat what you +heard me say about that lady, or the letter: you aren't to mention the +lady or the letter at all." + +"I understand, Monsieur Henri; but I do hope you will keep out of other +people's troubles. You have enough of your own now, over this unlucky +duel." + +"It's to get me out of that trouble that you are going home. Give my +father a full account of the duel. Tell him the gentleman insulted my +religion as well as myself; that he tried my patience beyond endurance. +My father will understand, I trust. And say that I shall leave it to him +to solicit my pardon of the King. I know he would prefer I should place +the matter all in his hands." + +"Yes, to be sure, Monsieur Henri. And of course to a gentleman who has +served him so well, the King can't refuse anything." + +"He is scarce likely to refuse him that favour, at any rate. My father +will know just what to do; just whom to make his petition through, and +all that. Perhaps he will go to Paris himself about it; or he may send +Blaise Tripault with letters to some of his old friends who are near the +King. But he will do whatever is best. The pardon will doubtless be +obtained before I reach Paris, as I am going by this indirect way and +may stop for awhile in the neighbourhood of Vendome. But I shall +eventually turn up at the inn we were bound for, in the Rue St. Honoré." + +"Yes, Monsieur, and may God land you there safe and sound!" + +"Tell my father that the only name by which I know my antagonist is +Monsieur de Merri. Perhaps he belonged to Montoire; at any rate, he was +acquainted there." + +We soon reached the place where the roads diverge. I took over my +travelling bag and cloak from Nicolas's mule to my horse, hastily +repeated my directions in summary form, supplied him with money, and +showed him his road, he very disconsolate at parting, and myself little +less so. As night was falling, and so much uncertainty lay over my +immediate future, the trial of our spirits was the greater. However, as +soon as he was moving on his way, I turned my horse forward on mine, and +tried, by admiring the stars, to soften the sense of my loneliness and +danger. + +I began to forget the peril of my present situation by thinking of the +affair I had undertaken. In the first place, how to find the lady? All I +knew of her was that she was probably at Montoire, that she had been +associated in some way with Monsieur de Merri, and that she now thought +herself in imminent danger. And I had in my possession a piece of her +handwriting, which, however, I should have to use very cautiously if at +all. There was, indeed, little to start with toward the task of finding +her out, but, as Montoire could not be a large place, I need not +despair. I would first, I thought, inquire about Monsieur de Merri and +what ladies were of his acquaintance. If Monsieur de Merri himself was +of Montoire, and had people living there, my presence would be a great +risk. I could not know how soon the news of his death might reach them +after my own arrival at the place, nor how close a description would be +given of his slayer--for there was little doubt that the innkeeper would +infer the true state of affairs on the discovery of the body. The dead +man's people would be clamorous for justice and the officers would be on +their mettle. Even if I might otherwise tarry in Montoire unsuspected, +my insinuating myself into the acquaintance of one of Monsieur de +Merri's friends would in itself be a suspicious move. The more I +considered the whole affair, the more foolish seemed my chosen course. +And yet I could not bear to think of that unknown lady in such great +fear, with perhaps none to aid her: though, indeed, since none but +Monsieur de Merri could save her honour and life, how could I do so? +Well, I could offer my services, at least; perhaps she meant she had +nobody else on whose willingness she could count; perhaps she really +could make as good use of me as of him. But on what pretext could I +offer myself? How could I account to her for my knowledge of her affairs +and for Monsieur de Merri's inability to come to her? To present myself +as his slayer would not very well recommend my services to her. Would +she, indeed, on any account accept my services? And even if she did, was +I clever enough to get her out of the situation she was in, whatever +that might be? Truly the whole case was a cloud. Well, I must take each +particular by itself as I came to it; be guided by circumstance, and +proceed with delicacy. The first thing to do was to find out who the +lady was; and even that could not be done till I got to Montoire, which, +being near Vendome, must be at least two days' journey from La Flèche. + +As I thought how much in the dark was the business I had taken on +myself, my mind suddenly reverted to the first of the monk's three +maxims that Blaise Tripault had given me, which now lay folded in my +pocket, close to the lady's note. + +"_Never undertake a thing unless you can see your way to the end of +it._" + +I could not help smiling to think how soon chance had led me to violate +this excellent rule. But I am not likely to be confronted again by such +circumstances, thought I, and this affair once seen through, I shall be +careful; while the other maxims, being more particular, are easier to +obey, and obey them I certainly will. + +I rode on till near midnight, and then, for the sake of the horse as +well as the rider, I turned out of the road at a little stream, +unsaddled among some poplar trees, and lay down, with my travelling bag +for pillow, and my cloak for bed and blanket. The horse, left to his +will, chose to lie near me; and so, in well-earned sleep, we passed the +rest of the night. + +The next morning, when we were on the road again, I decided to exchange +talk with as many travellers as possible who were going my way, in the +hope of falling in with one who knew Montoire. At a distance from the +place, I might more safely be inquisitive about Monsieur de Merri and +his friendships than at Montoire itself. The news of what had happened +at La Flèche would not have come along the road any sooner than I had +done, except by somebody who had travelled by night and had passed me +while I slept. In the unlikelihood of there being such a person, I could +speak of Monsieur de Merri without much danger of suspicion. But even if +there was such a person, and the news had got ahead, nobody could be +confident in suspecting me. I was not the only young gentleman of my +appearance, mounted on a horse like mine, to be met on the roads that +day. And besides, I was no longer attended by a servant on a mule, as I +had been at La Flèche. So I determined to act with all freedom, accost +whom I chose, and speak boldly. + +Passing early through Le Lude, I breakfasted at last, and talked with +various travellers, both on the road and at the inn there, but none of +them showed any such interest, when I casually introduced the name of +Montoire, as a dweller of that place must have betrayed. To bring in the +name of the town was easy enough. As thus:--in the neighbourhood of Le +Lude one had only to mention the fine chateau there, and after admiring +it, to add: "They say there is one very like it, at some other town +along this river--I forget which--is it Montoire?--or La Chartre?--I +have never travelled this road before." A man of Montoire, or who knew +that town well, would have answered with certainty, and have added +something to show his acquaintance there. The chateau of Le Lude served +me in this manner all the way to Vaas, where there is a great church, +which answered my purpose thence to Chateau du Loir. But though I threw +out my conversational bait to dozens of people, of all conditions, not +one bite did I get anywhere on the road between Le Lude and La Chartre. + +It was evening when I arrived at La Chartre, and I was now thirteen +leagues from La Flèche, thanks to having journeyed half the previous +night. Anybody having left La Flèche that morning would be satisfied +with a day's journey of nine leagues to Chateau du Loir, the last +convenient stopping-place before La Chartre. So I decided to stay at La +Chartre for the night, and give my horse the rest he needed. + +At the inn I talked to everybody I could lay hold of, dragging in the +name of Montoire, all to no purpose, until I began to think the +inhabitants of Montoire must be the most stay-at-home people, and their +town the most unvisited town, in the world. In this manner, in the +kitchen after supper, I asked a fat bourgeois whether the better place +for me to break my next day's journey for dinner would be Troo or +Montoire. + +"I know no better than you," he replied with a shrug. + +"Pardon, Monsieur; I think you will find the better inn at Montoire," +put in a voice behind my shoulder. I turned and saw, seated on a stool +with his back to the wall, a bright-looking, well-made young fellow who +might, from his dress, have been a lawyer's clerk, or the son of a +tradesman, but with rather a more out-of-doors appearance than is +usually acquired in an office or shop. + +"Ah," said I, "you know those towns, then?" + +"I live at Montoire," said he, interestedly, as if glad to get into +conversation. "There is a fine public square there, you will see." + +"But it is rather a long ride before dinner, isn't it?" + +"Only about five leagues. I shall ride there for dinner to-morrow, at +all events." + +"You are returning home, then?" + +"Yes, Monsieur." + +"Have you been far away?" + +"That is as one may think," he replied after a moment's hesitation, +during which he seemed to decide it best to evade the question. His +travels were none of my business, and I cared not how secretive he might +be upon them. But to teach him a lesson in openness, I said: + +"I have travelled from Le Lude to-day." + +"And I too," said he, with his former interest. + +"I didn't see you at the inn there," said I. "You must have left early +this morning." + +"Yes, after arriving late last night. Yesterday evening I was at La +Flèche." + +I gave an inward start; but said quietly enough: "Ah?--and yet you talk +as if you had slept at Le Lude." + +"So I did. I travelled part of the night." + +"And arrived at Le Lude before midnight, perhaps?" + +"Yes, a little before. Luckily, the innkeeper happened to be up, and he +let me in." + +I breathed more freely. This young man must have left La Flèche before I +had: he could know nothing of the man slain. + +"There is a good inn at La Flèche," I said, to continue the talk. + +"No doubt. I stopped only a short while, at a small house at the edge of +the town. I was in some haste." + +"Then you will be starting early to-morrow?" + +"Yes, Monsieur." + +I resolved to be watchful and start at the same time. But lest he should +have other company, or something should interfere, I decided not to lose +the present opportunity. So I began forthwith: + +"I have met a gentleman who comes, I think, from Montoire, or at least +is acquainted there,--a Monsieur de Merri, of about my own age." + +The young fellow looked at me with a sudden sharpness of curiosity, +which took me back: but I did not change countenance, and he had +repossessed himself by the time he replied: + +"There is a Monsieur de Merri, who is about as old as you, but he does +not live at Montoire. He sometimes comes there." + +Here was comfort, at least: I should not find myself among the dead +man's relations, seeking vengeance. + +"No doubt he has friends there?" I ventured. + +"No doubt, Monsieur," answered the young man, merely out of politeness, +and looking vague. + +"Probably he visits people in the neighbourhood," I tried again. + +"I cannot say," was the reply, still more absently given. + +"Or lives at the inn," I pursued. + +"It may be so." The young fellow was now glancing about the kitchen, as +if to rid himself of this talk. + +"Or perhaps he dwells in private lodgings when he is at Montoire," I +went on resolutely. + +"It might well be. There are private lodgings to be had there." + +"Do you know much of this Monsieur de Merri?" I asked pointblank, in +desperation. + +"I have seen him two or three times." + +"Where?" + +"Where? At Montoire, of course." The speaker, in surprise, scrutinized +me again with the keen look he had shown before. + +It was plain, from his manner, that he chose to be close-mouthed on the +subject of Monsieur de Merri. He was one of those people who generally +have a desire to talk of themselves and all their affairs, but who can +be suddenly very secretive on some particular matter or occasion. I saw +that I must give him up, for that time at least. Perhaps on the road +next day his unwillingness to be communicative about Monsieur de Merri +would have passed away. But meanwhile, what was the cause of that +unwillingness? Did he know, after all, what had occurred at La Flèche, +and had he begun to suspect me? I inwardly cursed his reticence, and +went soon to bed, that I might rise the earlier. + +But early as I rose, my young friend had beaten me. The ostler to whom I +described him said he had ridden off half-an-hour ago. In no very +amiable mood, I rode after him. Not till the forenoon was half spent, +did I catch up. He saluted me politely, and gave me his views of the +weather, but was not otherwise talkative. We rode together pleasantly +enough, but there was no more of that openness in him which would have +made me feel safe in resuming the subject of Monsieur de Merri. As we +approached noon and our destination, I asked him about the different +families of consequence living thereabouts, and he mentioned several +names and circumstances, but told me nothing from which I could infer +the possibility of danger to any of their ladies. It was toward mid-day +when we rode into the great square of Montoire, and found ourselves +before the inn of the Three Kings. + +I turned to take leave of my travelling companion, thinking that as he +belonged to this town he would go on to his own house. + +"I'm going to stop here for a glass of wine and to leave my horse +awhile," he said, noticing my movement. + +He followed me through the archway. A stout innkeeper welcomed me, saw +me dismount, and then turned to my young fellow-traveller, speaking with +good-natured familiarity: + +"Ah, my child, so you are back safe after your journey. Let us see, how +long have you been away? Since Sunday morning--four days and a half. I +might almost guess where you've been, from the time--for all the secret +you make of it." + +The young man laughed perfunctorily, and led his horse to the stable +after the ostler who had taken mine. + +"A pleasant young man," said I, staying with the landlord. "He lives in +this town, he tells me." + +"Yes, an excellent youth. He owns his bit of land, and though his father +was a miller, his children may come near being gentlemen." + +I went into the kitchen, and ordered dinner. Presently my young man +entered and had his wine, which he poured down quickly. He then bowed to +me, and went away, like one who wishes to lose no time. + +Suddenly the whole probability of the case appeared to me in a flash. +Regardless of the wine before me, and of the dinner I had ordered, I +rose and followed him. + +I had put together his reticence about Monsieur de Merri, his having +been away from Montoire just four and a half days, the direction of his +journey, and his errand to be done immediately on returning. He must be +the messenger who had carried the lady's note to Sablé, and he was now +going to report its delivery and, perhaps, Monsieur de Merri's answer. +If I could dog his steps unseen, he would lead me to the lady who was in +danger. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +WHO THE LADY WAS + + +By the time I was in the court-yard, the messenger was walking out of +the archway. By the time I was at the outer end of the archway, he was +well on his way toward one of the streets that go from the square. I +waited in the shelter of the archway till he had got into that +street--or road, I should say, for it soon leaves the town, proceeding +straight in a South-easterly direction for about half a league through +the country. As soon as he was out of the square, I was after him, +stepping so lightly I could scarce hear my own footfalls. He walked +rapidly, and as one who does not think of turning to look behind, a fact +which I observed with comfort. + +If he was indeed the messenger, he must have been content with a very +short rest for his horse after delivering the note to Monsieur de +Merri;--must have started from Sablé as soon as, or little later than, +Monsieur de Merri himself, to be in La Flèche on the same evening that +gentleman arrived there, and to be out of it again before I was, as he +must have been if he reached Le Lude by midnight. Perhaps he was passing +through La Flèche at the very time the duel was going on; but the sum of +all was, that he could not know Monsieur de Merri was killed, and this I +felt to be fortunate for me. + +Another thought which I had while following him along the straight white +road that day, was that if the lady could command the services of this +able young fellow to bear a message so far, why could she not use him +directly for the saving of her life and honour? Evidently there was a +reason why mere zeal and ability would not suffice. Perhaps the +necessary service was one in which only a gentleman could be accepted. +But I feared rather that there might be some circumstance to make +Monsieur de Merri the only possible instrument; and my heart fell at +this, thinking what I had done. But I hoped for the best, and did not +lose sight of the young man ahead of me. + +After we had walked about twenty minutes, the road crossed a bridge and +rose to the gates of a chateau which had at one corner a very high old +tower. In front of the chateau, the road turned off sharply to the left. +A few small houses constituted such a village as one often sees huddled +about the feet of great castles. A drawbridge, which I could see between +the gate towers, indicated that the chateau and its immediate grounds +were surrounded by a moat. The messenger did not approach the gates, nor +did he follow the road to its turning. He disappeared down a lane to the +right. + +When I got to the lane, he had already passed out of it at the other +end. I hastened through, and caught sight of him in the open fields that +lay along the side wall of the chateau. Near the outer edge of the moat, +grew tangled bushes, and I noticed that he kept close to these, as if to +be out of sight from the chateau. At a distance ahead, skirting the rear +of the chateau enclosure, stretched the green profile of what appeared +to be a deep forest. It was this which my unconscious guide was +approaching. I soon reached the bushes by the fosse, and used them for +my own concealment in following him. When he came to the edge of the +forest, at a place near a corner of the wall environing the chateau +grounds, what did he do but stop before the first tree--a fine oak--and +proceed to climb up it? I crouched among the bushes, and looked on. + +When he gained the boughs he worked his way out on one that extended +toward the moat. From that height he could see across the wall. He took +a slender pole that had been concealed among the branches, tied a +handkerchief thereto, and ran it out so that the bit of white could be +seen against the leaves. + +"Oho! a signal!" said I to myself. + +Keeping the handkerchief in its position, he waited. I know not just +what part of an hour went by. I listened to the birds and sometimes to +the soft sound of a gentle breeze among the tree tops of the forest. + +At last the handkerchief suddenly disappeared, and my man came quickly +down the tree. Watching the chateau beyond the walls, he had evidently +seen the person approach for whom he had hung out his signal. He now +stood waiting under the tree. My heart beat fast. + +I heard a creaking sound, and saw a little postern open in the wall, +near the tree. A girl appeared, ran nimbly across a plank that spanned +the moat, and into the arms of my young man. + +Could this, then, be the woman whose life and honour was in peril? No, +for though she had some beauty, I could see at a glance that she was a +dependent. Moreover, her face shone gaily at sight of the messenger, and +she gave herself to his embrace with smothered laughter. But a moment +later, she attended seriously, and with much concern, to what he had to +say, of which I could hear nothing. I then saw what the case was: this +was a serving-maid whom the endangered lady had taken into confidence, +and who had impressed her lover into service to carry that lady's +message. The lady herself must be in that chateau,--perhaps a prisoner. +My first step must be to find out who were the dwellers in the chateau, +and as much of their affairs as the world could tell me. + +The interview between the two young people was not long. It ended in +another embrace; the girl ran back over the plank, waved her hand at her +lover, and disappeared, the postern door closing after her. The young +man, with a last tender look at the door, hastened back as he had come. +I had to crawl suddenly under some low bushes to avoid his sight, making +a noise which caused him to stop within six feet of me. But I suppose he +ascribed the sound to some bird or animal, for he soon went on again. + +I lay still for some time, being under no further necessity of observing +him. I then walked back to the inn at Montoire at a leisurely pace. +Looking into the stables when I arrived, I saw that the messenger's +horse was gone. He lived, as I afterwards learned from the innkeeper, on +another road than that which led to the chateau. I suppose he had chosen +to go afoot to the chateau for the sake of easier concealment. + +The innkeeper was looking amazed and injured, at my having gone away and +let my dinner spoil. + +"I was taken with a sudden sickness," I explained. "There's nothing like +a walk in the fresh air when the stomach is qualmish. I am quite well +now. I'll have another dinner, just what I ordered before." + +As this meant my paying for two dinners, the landlord was soon restored +to good-nature. He was a cheerful, hearty soul, and as communicative as +I could desire. + +"That is a strong chateau about half a league yonder," I said to him, as +I sipped his excellent white wine. + +"Yes, the Chateau de Lavardin," he replied. "Strong?--yes, indeed." + +"Who lives there?" + +"The Count de Lavardin." + +"What sort of man is he?" + +"What sort? Well!--an old man, for one thing,--or growing old. Or maybe +you mean, what does he look like?" + +"Yes, of course." + +"A lean old grey wolf, I have heard him likened to--without offence, of +course. Yes, he is a thin old man, but of great strength, for all that." + +"Is he a good landlord?" + +"Oh, he is not my landlord," said the innkeeper, looking as if he would +have added "Thank God!" but for the sake of prudence. "No; his estate is +very large, but it extends in the other direction from Montoire." + +"Is he a pleasant neighbour, then?" + +"Oh, I have no fault to find, for my part. One mustn't believe all the +grumblers. You may hear it said of him that his smile is more frightful +than another man's rage. But people will say things, you know, when they +think they have grievances." + +I fancied that the innkeeper shared this opinion which he attributed to +the grumblers, and took satisfaction in getting it expressed, though too +cautious to father it himself. + +"Then he has no great reputation for benevolence?" + +"Oh, I don't say that. We must take what we hear, with a grain of salt. +He is certainly one of the great noblemen of this neighbourhood; +certainly a brave man. You will hear silly talk, of course: how that he +is a man whose laugh makes one think of dungeon chains and the rack. But +some people will give vent to their envy of the great." + +I shuddered inwardly, to think that my undertaking might bring me across +the path of a man as sinister and formidable as these bits of +description seemed to indicate. + +"What family has he?" I asked, trying the more to seem indifferent as I +came closer to the point. + +"No family. His children are all dead. Some foolish folk say he expected +too much of them, and tried to bring them up too severely, as if they +had been Spartans. But that is certainly a slander, for his eldest son +was killed in battle in the last civil war." + +"Then he has no daughter--or grand-daughter--or niece, perhaps?" + +"Not that I know of. Why do you ask, Monsieur?" + +"I thought I saw a lady at one of the windows," said I, inventing. + +"No doubt. It must have been his wife. She would be the only lady +there." + +"Oh, but this was surely a young lady," I said, clinging to my +preconceptions. + +"Certainly. His new wife is young. The children I spoke of were by his +first wife, poor woman! Oh, yes, his new wife is young--beautiful too, +they say." + +"And how do she and the Count agree together, being rather unevenly +matched?" + +"That is the question. Nobody sees much of their life. She never comes +out of the grounds of the chateau, except to church sometimes, when she +looks neither to the right nor to the left." + +"But who are her people, to have arranged her marriage with such a man?" + +"Oh. I believe she has no people. An orphan, whom he took out of a +convent. A gentlewoman, yes, but of obscure family." + +"I can't suppose she is very happy." + +"Who knows, Monsieur? They do say the old wolf--I mean the Count, +Monsieur,--we are sometimes playful in our talk here at Montoire,--they +say he is terribly jealous. They say that is why he keeps her so close. +Of course I know nothing of it.--You noticed, perhaps, that the moat was +full of water. The drawbridge is up half the time. One would suppose the +Civil wars were back again. To be sure, some people hint that there may +be another reason for all that: but I, for one, take no interest in +politics." + +"You mean the Count is thought to be one of those who are disaffected +toward the King?" + +"H-sh, Monsieur! We mustn't say such things. If idle whispers go around, +we can't help hearing them; but as for repeating them, or believing +them, that's another matter. I mention only what all can see--that the +Chateau de Lavardin is kept very much closed against company. The saying +is, that it's as hard to get into the Chateau de Lavardin nowadays as +into heaven. It's very certain, the Count has no welcome for strangers." + +And yet somehow I should have to get into the chateau, and obtain +private speech with the Countess,--for it must be she who had summoned +Monsieur de Merri. + +"In that case," said I, "they must have no visitors at all. But I recall +meeting a young gentleman the other day, who was acquainted with some +great family near Montoire, and, from certain things, I think it must be +this very Lavardin family. He was a Monsieur de Merri." + +"Ah, yes. He has stayed at this inn. It was here the Count met him, one +day when the Count was returning from the hunt. The Count was thirsty +and stopped to drink, and the young gentleman began to talk with him +about the hounds. At that time half the Count's pack were suffering from +a strange disease, which threatened the others. When the Count described +the disease, Monsieur de Merri said he knew all about it and could cure +it. The Count took him to the chateau, where he stayed a fortnight, for +you see, however jealous the count may be of his wife, he cares more for +his hounds. Monsieur de Merri cured them, and that is how he got +admission to the Chateau de Lavardin. But besides him and the red +Captain, there aren't many who can boast of that privilege." + +"The red Captain? Who is he?" + +"Captain Ferragant. He is a friend of the Count's, who comes to the +chateau sometimes and makes long visits there. Where he comes from, of +what he does when he is elsewhere, I cannot tell. He is at the chateau +now, I believe." + +"Why did you call him the red Captain?" + +"The people have given him that name. He has a great red splash down one +side of his face. They say it was caused by a burn." + +"Received in the wars, perhaps." + +"No doubt. He has fought under many banners, it is said. Some declare he +still keeps his company together, always ready for the highest bidder; +but if that's true, I don't know where he keeps it, or how he does so +without a loss when not at the wars. It is true, he brings a suite of +sturdy fellows when he comes to Lavardin; but not enough to make what +you would call a company." + +"Perhaps he has made his fortune and retired." + +"He's not an old man, Monsieur, though he is the friend of the Count. He +is at the prime of life, I should say. A tall, strong man. He would be +handsome but for the red stamp on his face. He has great influence over +the Count. They drink, hunt, and play together. In many ways they are +alike. The red Captain, too, has a smile that some people are afraid of, +and a laugh that is merciless, but they are broad and bold, if you can +understand what I mean,--not like the wily chuckle of the Count. He has +big, ferocious eyes, too; while the Count's are small and half-closed. +If people will fear those two men because of their looks, I can't for my +life say which is to be feared the more." + +"A pleasant pair for anybody to come in conflict with," said I, as +lightly as I could. + +"Yes, Monsieur, and seeing that strangers are so unwelcome there, you +will do well to pass by the Chateau de Lavardin without stopping to +exchange compliments." With a jocular smile, the innkeeper went about +his business, while I finished my dinner with a mind full of misgivings. + +I rose from the table, left the inn, and walked back, by the straight +road of half a league, to Lavardin, pondering on the problem before me. +It was a natural feeling that I might come by an inspiration more +probably in the presence of the chateau than away from it. There was a +little cabaret in the village, in full sight of the chateau gates, and +just far enough back from the road to give room for two small tables in +front. At one of these tables a man was already sitting, so I took +possession of the other and called for a bottle of wine. I then sat +there, slowly sipping, with my eyes on the chateau, hoping that by +contemplation thereof, or perhaps by some occurrence thereabout, I might +arrive at some idea of how to proceed. The drawbridge was not up, but +the gates were closed. From where I sat, I could see the gate towers, a +part of the outer wall, the turreted top of the chateau itself beyond +the court, and the great high tower, which looked very ancient and +sombre. But the more I looked, the more nearly impossible it appeared +that I could devise means of getting into the place and to the ear of +the Countess. + +As I was gazing at the chateau, I had a feeling that the man at the +other table was gazing at me. I glanced at him, but seemed to have been +mistaken. He was looking absently at the sky over my head. I now took +thought of what a very silent, motionless, undemonstrative man this was. +He was thin and oldish, and of moderate stature, with a narrow face, +pale eyes, and a very long nose. He was dressed in dull brown cloth, and +was in all respects--save his length of nose--one of those persons of +whom nobody ever takes much note. And he in turn did not seem to take +much note of the world. He looked at the sky, the house roofs and the +road, but his thoughts did not appear to concern themselves with these +things, or with anything, unless with the wine which he, like myself, +sipped in a leisurely manner. + +I dismissed him from my attention, and resumed my observation of the +chateau. But nobody came nor went, the gates did not open, nothing +happened to give me an idea. When I looked again at the other table, the +long-nosed man was gone. It was as if he had simply melted away. + +"Who was the man sitting there?" I asked the woman of the cabaret. + +"I don't know, Monsieur. He arrived here this morning. I never saw him +before to-day." + +In the evening I went back to Montoire, no nearer the solution of my +problem than before. Nor did a sleepless night help me any: I formed a +dozen fantastic schemes, only to reject every one of them as impossible. +What made all this worse, was the consideration that time might be of +the utmost importance in the affairs of the imperilled lady. + +The next morning I went to view the chateau from other points than the +village cabaret. This time I took the way the messenger had led +me,--turned down the lane, and traversed the fields by the moat. I sat +where I had hid the day before; staring at the postern and the wall, +over which birds flew now and then, indicating that there was a garden +on the other side. Receiving no suggestion here, I took up my station at +the tree from which the messenger had shown the handkerchief. I thought +of climbing it, to see over the wall. But just as I had formed my +resolution, I happened to glance over the fields and see a man strolling +idly along near the edge of the moat. As he came nearer, I recognized +him as the long-nosed gentleman in the brown doublet and hose. + +He saw me, and gazed, in his absent way, with a momentary curiosity. +Angry at being caught almost in the act of spying out the land, I +hastened off, passing between the rear wall and the forest which grew +nearly to the moat, and to which the tree itself belonged. In this way, +I soon left my long-nosed friend behind, and came out on the opposite +side of the chateau. + +Here I found a hillock, from the top of which I could see more of the +chateau proper and the other contents of the great walled enclosure. I +sat for some time regarding them, but the towers, turrets, roofs, +windows, and tree tops engendered no project in my mind. + +Suddenly I heard a low, discreet cough behind me, and, looking around, +saw the long-nosed man standing not six feet away. + +The sight gave me a start, for I had neither heard nor seen him +approach, though the way I had come was within my field of vision. He +must have made a wide circle through the woods. + +His mild eyes were upon me. "Good morning, Monsieur," said he, in a dry, +small voice. + +"Good morning," said I, rather ungraciously. + +He came close to me, and said, with a faint look of amusement: + +"May I tell you what is your chief thought at present, Monsieur?" + +After a moment, I deemed it best to answer, "If you wish." + +"It is that you would give half the money in your purse to get into that +chateau yonder." + +At first I could only look astonishment. Then I considered it wise to +take his remark as a joke; accordingly I laughed, and asked, "How do you +know that?" + +"Oh, I have observed you yesterday and to-day. You have a very eloquent +countenance, Monsieur. Well, I don't blame you for wishing you could get +over those walls. I have been young myself: I know what an attraction a +pretty maid is." + +So he thought it was some love affair with a lady's maid that lay behind +the wish he had divined in me. I saw no reason to undeceive him; so I +merely said, "And what is all this to you, Monsieur?" + +"Hum!--that depends," he replied. "Tell me first, are you known to the +Count de Lavardin or his principal people--by sight, I mean?" + +"Neither by sight nor otherwise." + +"Good! Excellent!" said the man, looking really pleased. "I dared hope +as much, when the woman at the cabaret said you were a stranger. What is +all this to me? you ask. Well, as I have taken the liberty to read your +thoughts, I will be frank with you in regard to my own. I also have a +desire to see the inside of that chateau, and, as I haven't the honour +of the Count's acquaintance, and he is very suspicious of strangers, I +must resort to my devices. My reasons for wanting to be admitted yonder +are my own secret, but I assure you they won't conflict with yours. So, +as I have been studying you a little, and think you a gentleman to be +trusted, I propose that we shall help each other, as far as our object +is the same. In other words, Monsieur, if you will do as I say, I +believe we may both find ourselves freely admitted to the Chateau de +Lavardin before this day is over. Once inside, each shall go about his +purposes without any concern for the other. What do you think of it, +Monsieur?" + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +THE CHATEAU DE LAVARDIN + + +All that I could think was that, if genuine, the offer came as a most +unexpected piece of good luck, and that, if it was a trick, my +acceptance of it could not much add to the danger which attended my +purpose at best. In any case, this man already had me under scrutiny. +So, after some little display of surprise and doubt, I took him at his +word, inwardly reserving the right to draw back if I found myself +entering a trap. The man's very proposal involved craft as against the +master of the chateau, but toward me he seemed to be acting with the +utmost simplicity and honesty, so straightforward and free from +excessive protestation he was. + +He led me away to a quiet, secluded place by the riverside, out of sight +of the chateau, that we might talk the matter over in safety. And first +he asked me what I knew of the disposition and habits of the Count de +Lavardin. I told him as much as the innkeeper had told me. + +"Hum!" said he, reflectively; "it agrees with what I have heard. I have +been pumping people a little, in a harmless way. The first thing I +learned was the Count's churlish practice of closing his gates to +strangers, which forces us to use art in obtaining the hospitality we +are entitled to by general custom. So I had to discover some inclination +or hobby of the man's, that I could make use of to approach him. I don't +see how we can reach him through his love of dogs, without having +prepared ourselves with special knowledge and a fine hound or so to +attract his attention. As for his jealousy, it would be too hazardous to +play upon that: besides, I shouldn't like to cook up a tale about his +wife, unless put to it." + +"Monsieur, don't speak of such a thing," I said indignantly. + +"No, it wouldn't do. I can't think of a better plan than the one that +first occurred to me. As it required a confederate, I put it aside. But +when I observed you yesterday regarding the chateau so wistfully, I said +to myself, 'No doubt heaven has sent this young man to help me, and that +I in turn may help him.' But I waited to make sure, watching you last +night and this morning till I was convinced of your desire to get into +the chateau." + +It was a surprise to me to learn that I had been watched, but I took it +coolly. + +"The plan I had thought of," he went on, "required that my confederate +should be unknown to the Count and those near him. When I find that you, +who are anxious for your own reasons to enter the chateau, fulfil that +requirement, I can only think the more that heaven has brought us +together. It is more than heaven usually does for one." + +"But what else does your plan require of me?" I asked, impatient to know +what must be faced. + +"You play chess, of course?" was his interrogative answer. + +"A little," said I, wondering what that had to do with the case. + +"Then all is fair ahead of us. Luckily. I play rather well myself. As I +said just now, I have been nosing among the people--nosing is a good +word in my case, isn't it?"--he pointed to his much-extended +proboscis--"I have been nosing about to learn the Count's ruling +passions and so forth. When you have anybody to hoodwink, or obtain +access to without creating suspicion, find out what are his likings and +preoccupations: be sure there will be something there of which you can +avail yourself. From the village priest I learned that, along with his +fondness for hunting and drinking and the lower forms of gaming, the +Count has a taste for more intellectual amusements, and chiefly for the +game of chess. He is a most excellent player, and doesn't often find a +worthy antagonist. His bosom friend, one Captain Ferragant, who is now +living at the chateau, has no skill at chess, so the Count has been put +to sending for this priest to come and play a game now and then, but the +Count beats him too easily for any pleasure and the result of their +games is that the Count only curses the rarity of good chess-players." + +"And so you think of proposing a game with him?" + +"Not exactly," said the long-nosed man, with a faint smile at my +simplicity. "An obscure man like me, travelling without a servant, +doesn't propose games to a great nobleman, at the great nobleman's own +gates. The great nobleman may condescend to invite, but the obscure +traveller may not presume to offer himself,--not, at least, without +creating wonder and some curiosity as to his motives. No; that would be +too direct, moreover. It would suggest that I had been inquisitive about +him, to have learned that he is fond of chess. I may tell you that the +Count has his reasons for imagining that strangers may come trying to +get access to him, who have taken pains to learn something of his ways +beforehand. He has his reasons for suspecting every stranger who seeks +to enter his gates. No; we must neither show any knowledge of him, more +than his name, nor any desire to get into his house. We must play upon +his hobby without openly appealing to it. That is why two of us are +necessary. This is what we will do." + +I listened with great interest, surprised to discover what acuteness of +mind was hidden behind the pale, meek eyes and un-expressive pasty +countenance of this man with the long nose. + +"In an hour or so from now," he said, "I shall be sitting before the +cabaret, where you saw me yesterday. You will come there, from wandering +about the fields, and we will greet each other as having met casually on +our walks this morning--as indeed we actually have met. You will sit +down to refresh yourself with a bottle of wine, and we shall get into +conversation, like the strangers that we are to each other. The people +of the cabaret will hear us, more or less, and the porter at the chateau +gates will doubtless observe us. I will presently lead the talk to the +subject of chess. You will profess to be ardently devoted to the game. I +will show an equally great passion for it. We will express much regret +that we have no chessmen with us, and will inquire if any can be +obtained in the village. I know already that none can be: the priest +once owned a set, but he let the village children use them as toys and +they are broken up. Well, then, rather than lose the opportunity of +encountering a first-class player, you will suggest that we try to +borrow chessmen from the owner of that great chateau, who must surely +possess such things, as no great house is ever without them. You will +thereupon write a note to the Count, saying we are two gentlemen who +have met on our travels, and both claiming to be skilled chess-players, +and hating to part without a trial of prowess, but lacking chessmen, we +take upon ourselves to ask if he may have such a thing as a set which he +will allow us the use of for half a day; and so forth. We will bid the +woman at the cabaret take this note to the porter; and then we have but +to await the result." + +"And what will that be?" + +"We shall see when it comes," said the man tranquilly. I know not +whether he really felt the serene confidence he showed; but he seemed to +be going on the sure ground of past experience. "It will be necessary to +give names and some account of ourselves, no doubt, before all is done. +We shall not be expected to know anything of each other, having only met +as travellers so recently. To the Count I will call myself Monsieur de +Pepicot, a poor gentleman of Amiens. As for you, is there any reason why +you shouldn't use your own name? When you want to deceive anybody, it is +well to be strictly truthful as far as your object will permit." + +"The only reason is, that I may get into the Count's bad graces by what +I may do in his house, and it would be better if he didn't know where to +look for me afterwards." + +"Well, there's something in that. The Count is not a forgiving man. And +yet, as to his power of revenge, I know not--Well, do as you please." + +"Oh, devil take it, I'll go under my own name, let come what may! I +don't like the idea of masquerading." + +"A brave young gentleman! Then there's no more to be said. When we are +inside the chateau, it will be each of us for himself, though of course +we must keep up the comedy of wishing to play chess. Meet me by chance +at the cabaret, then, in about an hour." + +Without any more ado, he left me. Coming forth from the concealed place +a minute later, I saw him strolling along the river, looking at the +fields and the sky, as if nothing else were on his mind. I presently +imitated him, but went in another direction. In due time I made my way +to the cabaret, and there he was, at the table where I had first seen +him. + +We spoke to each other as had been arranged, and easily carried the +conversation to the desired point, mostly in the hearing of the woman of +the cabaret as she sat knitting by the door. When it came to writing the +note, the long-nosed man tore a leaf of paper out of his pocket book, +and had pen and ink fetched from his lodging over the cabaret; I then +composed our request in as courteous phrases as I thought suitable. The +woman herself carried the note to the chateau gates, and we saw a grated +wicket open, and a scowling fellow show his face there, who questioned +her, glanced at us with no friendly look, took the note, and closed the +wicket. We waited half an hour or so, sipping our wine and talking +carelessly, till I imagined the long-nosed man was becoming a little +doubtful. But just as he was losing his placidity so far as to cross one +leg over another, the chateau gate opened, and a heavy, dark-browed +fellow with the appearance rather of a soldier than of a servant, came +out, and over to us, scrutinizing us keenly as he approached. He asked +if we were the gentlemen who had written to borrow a set of chessmen. +Being so informed, he said: + +"Monsieur the Count, my master, begs to be excused from sending his +chessmen to you, but if you will come to them he will be glad to judge +of your playing; and perhaps to offer the winner a bout with himself." + +We took half a minute to evince our pleased surprise, our sense of +favour, and so forth, at this courteous invitation,--and then we +followed the servant to the chateau. It was amusing to see how +innocently, decorously, and consciously of unexpected honour my +long-nosed friend walked through the gateway, and gazed with childlike +admiration around the court-yard and the grey façade of the chateau +confronting us. + +A few wide steps led up to the arched door, which admitted us to a large +hall plentifully furnished with tables, benches, and finely-carved +chairs. It was panelled in oak and hung with arms, boars' heads, and +other trophies. At the upper end of a long table, the one leaning +forward from a chair at the head, the other from the bench at the side, +lounged two men, whom I recognized instantly from the descriptions of +the innkeeper as if from painted portraits. They were the Count de +Lavardin and Captain Ferragant. + +Yes, there was the "lean old grey wolf," grey not only in his bristly +hair and short pointed beard, but even in the general hue of his wizen +face; grey as to the little eyes that peered out between their narrowed +slits; grey even, on this occasion, as to his velvet doublet and +breeches. Though his face was wizen, the leanness of his body had no +appearance of weakness, but rather every sign of strength. I noticed +that his fingers seemed to possess great crunching power, and there was +always on his face the faint beginning of a smile which, I thought, +would heighten into glee when those fingers were in the act of +strangling somebody. + +As for the Captain, there was indeed a great blotch of deep red across +his cheek; he was a large, powerful fellow, with a bold, insolent face, +and fierce, pitiless eyes. To make his sobriquet the fitter, he wore a +suit of crimson, very rich and ornate. His beard and hair, however, were +black. + +"You are welcome, gentlemen," said the Count, in a harsh, thin voice. +"From what part do you come?" + +"From different parts," said my long-nosed companion. "We have only met +as strangers going opposite ways. I am Monsieur de Pepicot, of the +neighbourhood of Amiens, travelling to Angers to see some kinsfolk." + +The Count turned to me, and I recited my name and place, adding that I +was going to Paris, to see a little of the world, and therefore +journeying somewhat indirectly. + +"And behold here Monsieur the Captain Ferragant, who comes from +Burgundy," said the Count, "so that we have North, West, and East all +represented." + +Captain Ferragant bowed as politeness required, but he went no further. +He did not seem to relish our being there. His look was rather +disdainful, I thought, as if we were nobodies unfit for the honour of +his company. And very soon, while the Count was saying we must stay to +dinner, as there was not time for a game of chess before, the Captain +walked away and out of the hall. Seeing that we were to be his guests +for the day, the Count had us shown to a rather remote chamber up two +flights of stairs, where water was brought, and where we were left alone +together. The chamber looked out on a small part of the garden at the +rear of the chateau. + +"Well," said I, washing my hands, "you have played the magician. It has +been as easy as walking, to get into the chateau." + +"Will it be easy to get out again, when our business is done, I wonder?" +replied Monsieur de Pepicot, gazing out of the window at the distant +high wall of the garden. + +"Why do you say that?" I asked, a little surprised at his tone. + +"Oh, I was thinking of the manner in which the gate slammed to, after we +had entered. It is a mere inanimate gate, to be sure, but it was slammed +by a porter, and his manner of slamming it might unconsciously express +what was in his mind. You remember, the Count was rather long in coming +to a decision upon our note. If it occurred to him, after all, that we +might have some design, and that people with a design would be safer +inside than outside--well, I mention this only that you may know to keep +your wits about you." + +"Thanks, but I see no reason to fear anything. Everything seems to be +going admirably. We are assured of some time in which to attend to our +affairs. While one of us is playing chess with the Count, the other will +be free to roam about,--that suits me perfectly. I begin to feel really +grateful for the Count's hospitality--I almost dislike having won it by +a trick." + +"Pish! He is churlish enough as a rule in the matter of +hospitality--it's only fair to win it by a trick." + +I was inwardly much excited at the near prospect of dinner, as the meal +would perhaps give me a sight of the Countess. But of this I was +disappointed. The only people who sat down at the upper table, when +dinner was served in the hall, were the Count, the Captain, my friend +Monsieur de Pepicot, and myself. Elsewhere the benches were crowded with +fellows who, like him that had brought our invitation, appeared as much +warriors as serving men, and their number alone would have arrested +notice. I now recalled how many knaves of this sort I had seen in the +court-yard as I entered the chateau, but at that time I had had other +things to think of. + +The Count said nothing of the absence of his lady, and, as we could +scarce be thought to know whether he had a Countess living, it was not +for us to inquire about her. I spent my time wondering what could be her +situation, and whether her not appearing had anything to do with the +danger in which she supposed herself. My long-nosed friend ate very +industriously, and most of the conversation was between the Count and +the Captain, upon dogs and hawks and such things. When the Count +addressed either Monsieur de Pepicot or me, the Captain was silent. This +reticence, whether it proceeded from jealousy or contempt, seemed to +afford the Count a little amusement, for he turned his small eyes on the +Captain and stretched his thin lips in a smile that was truly horrible +in its relish of another's discontent. + +After dinner, the Count had the chessmen brought at once, and sat down +to watch us at our game. The Captain, with a glance of disapproval at +the chessboard, strolled away as he had done before. I was but a +moderately good player, and discomposed besides, so I held out scarce an +hour against the long-nosed gentleman, who was evidently of great skill. +Apparently the Count, by his ejaculations, thought little of my playing, +but he was so glad when my defeat made room for him, that I escaped his +displeasure. I too was glad, for now, while Monsieur de Pepicot kept the +Count occupied at chess, I should be free to go about the chateau in +search for its mistress. And grateful I was to Monsieur de Pepicot for +having beaten me, for he might easily have left me as the victor and +used this opportunity for his own purpose. I could not think it was +generosity that had made him do otherwise: I could only wonder what his +purpose was, that would bear so much waiting. + +For appearance's sake, I watched the two players awhile: then I imitated +the Captain, and sauntered to the court-yard, wondering if there might +be any servant there whom I could sound. But the men lounging there were +not of a simple-looking sort. They were all of forbidding aspect, and +they stared at me so hard that I returned into the hall. The Count was +intent upon the game. Pushed by the mere impulse of inquiry, I went up +the staircase as if to go to the chamber to which I had before been +conducted. But instead of going all the way up, I turned off at the +first landing into a short corridor, resolved to wander wherever I +might: if anybody stopped me, I could pretend to have lost my way. + +The corridor led into a drawing-room richly tapestried and furnished; +that into another room, which contained musical instruments; that into a +gallery where some portraits were hung. So far I had got access by a +series of curtained archways. The further end of the gallery was closed +by a door. I was walking toward that door, when I heard a step in the +room I had last traversed. I immediately began to look at the pictures. + +A man entered and viewed me suspiciously. He was, by his dress and air, +a servant of some authority in the household, and had not the military +rudeness of the fellows in the court-yard. + +"What is it Monsieur will have?" he asked, with outward courtesy enough. + +"I am looking at the portraits," said I. + +"I will explain them to you," said he. "That is Monsieur the Count in +his youth, painted at Paris by a celebrated Italian." And he went on to +point out the Count's children, now dead, and his first wife, before +going back to a former generation. + +"And the present Countess?" said I at last, looking around the walls in +vain. + +"There is no portrait of Madame the Countess." + +"She was not at dinner," I ventured. "Is she not well?" + +"Oh, she is well, I am happy to say. She often dines in her own +apartments." + +"She is well and yet keeps to her apartments?" I said, with as much +surprise as I thought the circumstance might naturally occasion. + +"She does not keep to her apartments exactly," replied the man, a little +annoyed. "She walks in the garden much of the time. Is there anything +else I may show you, Monsieur?" + +He stood at the curtained entrance, as if to attend my leaving the room, +and I thought best to take the hint. No doubt he had purposely followed +me, to hinder my going too far. + +I returned to the hall, which was very silent, the two players being +deep in their chess. Somewhere in my wake the manservant vanished, and I +seemed free to explore in another direction. The Countess walked much in +the garden, the man had said. It was a fine afternoon--might she not be +walking there now? + +Feigning carelessness, I went out a small door at the rear of the hall, +and found myself in that narrow part of the garden which lay between two +wings of the house, and which our chamber overlooked. This part, which +was really a terrace, was separated by a low Italian balustrade from the +greater garden below and beyond. I walked up the middle path to where +there was an opening in the balustrade at the head of a flight of steps. +But here my confidence received a check. Half-way down the steps was +sitting a burly fellow, who rose at my appearance, and said: + +"Pardon, Monsieur: no further this way, if you please. I am ordered to +stop everybody." + +"But I am the Count's guest," said I. + +"It is all the same. Nobody is to go down to the garden yonder without +orders." + +"Orders from the Count?" I asked. + +"From the Count or the Captain." + +I nearly let out my thought that the Captain had a good deal of +authority at the chateau, but I closed my lips in time. To show +insistence would only injure my purpose: so I contented myself with a +glance at the forbidden territory--a very spacious pleasance, indeed, +with walks, banks of flowers, arbours, and alleys, but with nobody there +to enjoy it that I could see--and went back to the hall. + +As I could not sit there long inactive, for considering how the time was +flying and I had accomplished nothing, I soon started in good faith for +the chamber to which I had feigned to be going before. Once upstairs, +however, it occurred to me to walk pass the door of that chamber, to the +end of the corridor. This passage soon turned leftward into a rear wing +of the building. I followed it, between chamber doors on one side and, +on the other, windows looking down on the smaller garden. It terminated +at last in a blind wall. I supposed myself to be now over that part of +the house which lay beyond the closed door at the end of the picture +gallery. I looked cautiously out of one of the windows, wondering how +much of the great garden might be visible from there. I could see a +large part of it, but not a soul anywhere in it. As I drew back in +disappointment, I was suddenly startled by a low sound that seemed to +come from somewhere beneath me--a single brief sound, which made my +breath stop and pierced my very heart. + +It was the sob of a woman. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +WHAT THE PERIL WAS + + +It seemed to me like a sob of despair, or of the breaking down of +patience, and, knowing what I did already, I quickly imagined it to +proceed from the Countess in a moment when she was beginning to lose +hope of Monsieur de Merri's arrival. To me, therefore, it seemed a stab +of reproach. + +I judged that it came by way of the window below me. So forthwith, at +all hazards, sheltering myself from outside view as well as I could with +the casement, I thrust my head out over the sill, and said in a low +tone: + +"Madame." + +I waited for some moments, with a beating heart, and then called again, +"Madame." + +I thought I heard whispering below. Then a head was thrust out of the +window--a woman's head, soft haired and shapely. "Here I am," I +whispered. The head twisted round, and the face was that of the young +woman who had received the messenger at the postern the day before. But +it was clear that she had not been sobbing, though her face wore a look +of concern. + +"I must speak with Madame the Countess," said I, and added what I +thought would most expedite matters: "I bring news of Monsieur de +Merri." + +The head disappeared: there was more whispering: then the maid looked +out again, using similar precautions to mine with regard to the +casement. + +"Who are you, Monsieur?" she asked. + +"I will explain all later. There is little time now. I may soon be +looked for. Contrive to let me have an interview with Madame the +Countess. I don't know how to get to her: I'm not acquainted with the +chateau." + +"Put your head a little further out, Monsieur,--so that I can see your +face." + +I obeyed. She gazed at me searchingly, then withdrew her head again. +Reappearing very soon, she said: "Madame has decided to trust you. These +are her apartments. There is a door from a gallery where pictures +hang--" + +"I have been to that gallery," I interrupted, "but I was watched while +there. Is there no other way?" + +She thought a moment. "Yes, the garden. At the foot of the terrace, turn +to the right, till you get to the end of this wing." + +"But the man at the steps yonder will stop me. He has done so already." + +"That beast! Alas, yes! Well, I will go and talk with him, and keep him +looking at me. You go down to the terrace without attracting any +attention, walk close to the house till you get to this end of the +balustrade, step over the balustrade, descend the bank as quietly as +possible, and wait behind the shrubbery near the door at the end of this +wing,--it's the door from Madame's apartments to the garden. Do you +understand?" + +"Perfectly." + +"Then I will be talking to that man by the time you can get to the +terrace. I go at once. Be quick, Monsieur,--and careful." + +Admiring the swift wits and decision of the girl, I hastened through the +corridor, down the stairs, and into the hall. The Count and the +long-nosed man were so buried in their game that neither looked up. A +pair of varlets in attendance were yawning on a bench. Yawning in +imitation, I passed with feigned listlessness to the terrace, went +noiselessly along by the house-wall, and followed the wing to the end of +the balustrade. I did not venture even to look toward the steps, but I +could hear the maid talking and laughing coquettishly. I crossed the +balustrade by sitting on it and swinging my legs over: then strode on +light feet down the grassy bank and through an opening in the shrubbery +I saw at my right. I found myself in a walk which, bordered all the way +by shrubbery, ran from a narrow door in the end of the wing to the other +extremity of the garden. The door, when I first glanced at it, was +slightly ajar: I supposed the maid had left it so. But as soon as I had +come to a halt in the walk, the door opened, and a very young, very +slender, very sad-faced, very beautiful lady came out, with eyes turned +upon me in a mixture of hope and fear. + +I instinctively fell upon my knee before that picture of grief and +beauty. She wore, I remember, a gown of faded blue, and blue was the +colour of her eyes--a soft, fair blue, like that of the sky. She was so +slim, sorrowful, small, childlike, forlorn,--I would have died to serve +her. + +She looked at me searchingly, as the maid had done, but with more +courtesy, and then, in a low voice bidding me follow her, led the way +down the walk and into a side path that wound among some tall +rose-bushes. Here we could not be seen from the walk and yet we might +hear anybody approaching. She stopped and faced me. + +"You have news of Monsieur de Merri," she said eagerly. "What of him?" + +"He is prevented from coming to you, Madame." + +Her face, pale before, turned white as a sheet. + +"But," I hastened to add, "I have come in his stead, and I will serve +you as willingly as he." + +"But that will not do," she said, in great agitation. "Nobody can serve +me at this pass _but_ Monsieur de Merri. Where is he? What prevents +him?" + +"I left him at La Flèche," said I lamely. "I assure you it is utterly +impossible for him to come. But believe me, I am wholly yours for +whatever service you desired of him. You can see that I have come from +him." I took from my pocket her note, and held it out. I then told her +my name and parentage, and begged her not to distrust me because I was +of another religion than hers. + +"It isn't that I don't believe you, Monsieur," she replied. "It isn't +that I doubt your willingness to help me." + +"As to my ability, try me, Madame. My zeal will inspire me." + +"I don't doubt your ability to do brave and difficult things, Monsieur. +But it is not that. It happens--the circumstances are such--alas, nobody +but Monsieur de Merri himself can help me! If you but knew! If _he_ but +knew!" + +"Tell me the case, Madame. Trust me, I beg. Let me be the judge as to +whether I can help you." + +"I do trust you. I am not afraid to tell you. You will see plainly +enough. It is this: I have been slandered to my husband. A week has been +given me in which to clear myself. The week ends to-morrow. If I have +not proved my innocence by that time, God knows what fate my husband +will inflict upon me!" + +She shuddered and closed her eyes. + +"But your innocence, Madame--who can doubt it?" + +"My husband is a strange man, Monsieur. He has little faith in women." + +"But what slander can he believe of you? And who could utter it? What is +its nature?" + +"I suppose it is my husband's friend, Captain Ferragant, who uttered it. +The nature of it is, that Monsieur de Merri's name is associated with +mine. Monsieur de Merri is said to have made a boast about me, in the +tavern at Montoire. It is a hideous lie, invented when Monsieur de Merri +had gone away. And now you see how only Monsieur de Merri can save me, +by coming and facing our accusers and swearing to my innocence. But +to-morrow is the last day. Oh, if he had known why I wanted him! It is +too late now--or is it? Perhaps he sent you ahead? Perhaps he is coming +after you? Is it not so? He will be here to-morrow, will he not?" + +Bitterly I shook my head. + +"Then I am lost," she said, in a whisper of despair. + +"But that cannot be. It isn't for you to prove your innocence--it is for +your accuser to prove your guilt. He cannot do that." + +"You do not know the Count de Lavardin. He will believe any ill of a +woman, and anything that Captain Ferragant tells him. The fact that +Monsieur de Merri is young and accomplished is enough. My husband has +suspected me from the hour of our marriage. And besides that, people at +Montoire have testified that they heard Monsieur de Merri boast of +conquests. Whether that be true or not, it could not have been of me +that he boasted. And if he but knew how I stand, how readily he would +fly to clear me! He is no coward, I am sure." + +I had evidence of that: evidence also of Monsieur de Merri's unfortunate +habit of boasting of conquests. But I was convinced that it could not +have been of her that he had boasted. These thoughts, however, were but +transient flashings across my sense of the plight in which I had put +this unhappy woman by killing Monsieur de Merri. I tried to minimize +that plight. + +"But your fears are exaggerated. Your husband will not dare go too far." + +"He will dare take my life--or lock me up for the rest of my days in a +dungeon--or I know not what. He is all-powerful on his estate--lord of +life and death. You know what these great noblemen do when they believe +their wives unfaithful. I have heard how the Prince de Condé--" + +"Yes; but the Count de Lavardin would have your relations to fear." + +"I have no relations. I was an orphan in a convent. The Count took a +fancy to my face, they told me. They urged me to consent to the +marriage. I could not displease them--I had never disobeyed them. And +now this is the end. Well, I am in the hands of God." She glanced +upwards and gave a sigh of bitter resignation. + +"But after all," I interposed, "you are not certain how your husband +will act." + +"He has threatened the worst vengeance if I cannot clear myself +to-morrow. If you knew him, Monsieur!" + +"He allowed you a week, you say.--" + +"From the day he accused me--last Saturday." + +"And what facilities did he give you for the purpose?" + +"His men and horses were at my service. He knew, of course, that all I +could do was to send for Monsieur de Merri." + +"But why did he not send for Monsieur de Merri?" + +"I don't know. I suppose he was ruled by the advice of Captain +Ferragant. Perhaps he thought Monsieur de Merri would not come at his +request." + +"But you did not use your husband's men and horses to send for Monsieur +de Merri." + +"No. Mathilde--my maid whom you saw just now--thought I would better act +secretly. She feared the Captain would bribe the messenger to make only +a pretence of taking my message to Monsieur de Merri. In that case +Monsieur de Merri, knowing nothing, would not come, and his not coming +would be taken as evidence of guilt--as it will be now, though he got my +message, for Hugues is faithful. Why is it, Monsieur, that Monsieur de +Merri sent back word by Hugues that he would follow close, if he could +not come?" + +"Something happened afterward. Hugues, then, is the name of the +messenger you sent?" + +"Yes. He is devoted to Mathilde. They are accustomed to meet at certain +times. Mathilde has not much freedom, as you may guess, sharing my life +as she does. So she contrived to get possession for awhile of the key to +a postern yonder, and to pass it to Hugues when he came with flour. He +had a duplicate made, so that she could restore the original and yet +retain a key with which to let herself out and meet him in the forest. +Thus she was able to see him last Sunday morning, and to send him after +Monsieur de Merri. We knew that De Merri had started Westward, and +Hugues traced him from town to town. Ah, when Hugues returned +successful, how rejoiced we were! We expected Monsieur de Merri every +hour. But the time went by, and our hopes changed to fears, and now, +heaven pity me, it is the fears that have come true!" + +"But you are not yet lost. Even if the Count should be so blind as to +think you guilty, you have at least one resource. You have the key to +the postern. You can flee." + +"And be caught before I had fled two leagues. I am visited every three +hours, as if I were a prisoner, and as soon as I was missed a score of +men would be sent in all directions. Besides, for some reason or other, +the Count has the roads watched from the tower. If I fled into the +forest, the bloodhounds would be put on my track. My husband has hinted +all this to me. And where could I flee to but the Convent? The Count +would have men there before I could reach it." + +"I could find some other place to take you to," said I at a hazard. + +"Ah, Monsieur, then indeed would appearances be against me. Then indeed +would the enemy of my poor reputation have his triumph. Alas, there is +no honourable place in this world for a wife who leaves her husband's +roof, though it be her prison. I will be true to my vows, though I die. +If there be wrong, it shall be all of his doing, none of mine." + +"You believe it is this Captain who has slandered you. Why should he do +that? Why is he your enemy?" + +She blushed and looked down. I understood. + +"But why do you not tell your husband that?" I asked quickly. + +"The Count says it is an old story that wives accuse their husbands' +friends whom they dislike. He thinks women are made of lies. And in any +case he says if I am innocent of this charge I can prove my innocence. +So all depended on Monsieur de Merri's being here to-morrow to speak for +me." + +"Ah, Madame, if only my speaking for you would avail anything!" + +"From the depths of my heart I thank you, Monsieur, though you see how +useless you--And yet there is one thing you can say for me!" A great +light of sudden hope dawned upon her face. "You can tell how you saw +Monsieur de Merri--that he was coming here, but was prevented--" + +"Yes, I can do that." + +"And perhaps--who knows?--you can induce the Count to give me a few more +days, till the cause of Monsieur de Merri's delay is past. And then you +can ride or send to Monsieur de Merri, and tell him my situation, and he +will come and put my accuser to shame, after all! Yes, thank God, there +is hope! Oh, Monsieur, you may yet be able to save me!" + +There were tears of joy on her face, and she gratefully clasped my hand +in both of hers. + +It sickened my heart to do it, but I could only shake my head sadly and +say: + +"No, Madame, Monsieur de Merri can never come to speak for you." + +"Why not?" she cried, all the hope rushing out of her face again. + +"He is dead--slain in a duel." I said in a voice as faint as a whisper. + +Her face seemed to turn to marble. + +"Who killed him?" she presently asked in a horrified tone. + +I knelt at her feet, with averted eyes, as one who is all contrition but +dare not ask a pardon. + +"You!" she whispered. + +"When I found this message upon him afterward," said I, "I saw what +injury was done. I could only come in his place, and offer myself. By +one means and another, I learned who it was had sent for him." + +"That brave young gentleman," said she, following her own thoughts; +"that he should die so soon! And you, with his blood on your +hands."--she drew back from me a step--"come to offer your service to me +who, little as I was to him, must yet be counted among his friends! +Monsieur, what could you think of my loyalty?" + +"I thought only of what might be done to prevent further harm. Though I +fought him, I was not his enemy. I had never seen him before. It was a +sudden quarrel, about nothing. Heaven knows, I did not think it would +end as it did. That end has been lamentable enough, Madame. Punish me if +you will: as his friend, you are entitled to avenge him." + +"I only pity him, Monsieur. God forbid I should think of revenge!" + +"You are a saint, Madame. I was about to say that my having killed him +need not make you reject my service. Your doing so might but add to the +evil consequences of my act. Surely he would prefer your accepting my +aid, now that he is for ever powerless to give his. And we must think +now of something to be done--" + +[Illustration: "WE WERE INTERRUPTED BY A LOW CRY."] + +We were interrupted by a low cry, "Madame, Madame!" in a soft voice from +within the arbour that sheltered the walk. The Countess said to me, "It +is Mathilde. She means some one is coming. Hide among these bushes. If +we do not meet again, adieu, Monsieur; I thank you from my heart, and +may God pardon you the death of Monsieur de Merri!" + +She started for the walk: I whispered, "But I must help you! Can we not +meet again presently?" + +"I know not," she replied. "Act as you think best, Monsieur. But do not +endanger yourself. I must be gone now." + +She hastened to join the maid, whose whereabouts were indicated by a low +cough. I heard voices, and instantly crawled under the rose bushes, +heedless of scratches. As the voices came down the walk, one of them +turned out to be that of Captain Ferragant. There was but one other, +which I took, from the talk which I heard later, to belong to a falconer +or some such underling. The Captain addressed a few remarks to the +Countess, as to her state of health and the beauty of the day, which she +answered in low tones. Then he and his companion proceeded to walk +about, talking continually, never getting entirely out of my hearing, +and often coming so near that I could make out their words. It seemed +that an endless length of time passed in this way. I heard no more of +Madame and the maid. Finally the Captain and his man walked back toward +the house. I rose, stretched my legs, and peered up and down the walk. +It was deserted. What was I to do next? I naturally strolled toward the +chateau. As I neared the door leading to Madame's apartments, out came +Mathilde. + +"I have been watching for you, Monsieur. Madame had to come in, to avoid +suspicion. If you can get back to the terrace by the way you came down, +I will go again and distract the attention of the guard." + +"I can do that. But what of Madame? I must see her again. We must find +some way to save her." + +"Do what you can, Monsieur. If you think of anything, you know how to +communicate with us by way of the windows. But lose no time now." + +She hastened away to beguile the man on watch at the steps. When I heard +her laughter, I sped over the grass to the foot of the bank. I clambered +up, crossed the balustrade, went along the house, and entered the hall. +Monsieur de Pepicot was just in the act of saying "Checkmate." + +The Count's face turned a shade more ashen, and he looked unhappy. +Presently he smiled, however, and said peevishly: + +"Well, you must give me an opportunity of revenge. We must play another +game." + +"I shall be much honoured," said Monsieur de Pepicot. "But is there time +to-day?" + +"No; it will soon be supper time. But there will be time to-morrow. You +shall stay here to-night." + +"With great pleasure; but there are some poor things of mine at the +cabaret yonder I should like to have by me." + +"I will send a man for your baggage," said the Count. + +"Then I shall have nothing to mar my happiness," said Monsieur de +Pepicot composedly. + +I was very anxious to remain at the chateau for the present, and feared +rather dismissal than the enforced continuance there which the +long-nosed man had fancied might be our fate. So, to make sure, I said: + +"If Monsieur the Count will do me the honour of a game to-morrow, I will +try to make a better contest than I did against Monsieur de Pepicot." + +The Count looked not displeased at this; it gave him somebody to beat in +the event of his being again defeated by Monsieur de Pepicot. + +"Certainly," said he; "I cannot refuse you. You too will remain my +guest; and if I may send for your baggage also--" + +I felt vaguely that it would be better to leave my horse and belongings +at the inn at Montoire, in case I should ever wish to make a stealthy +departure from the chateau; so I replied: + +"I thank you, Monsieur; but there is nothing I have urgent need for, or +of such great value that I would keep it near." + +"As you please," said the Count, observing me keenly with his +half-ambushed eyes. + +The man who had escorted us to the chateau was sent to fetch Monsieur de +Pepicot's baggage; and would have brought his horse also, but that +Monsieur de Pepicot mildly but firmly insisted otherwise and despatched +orders for its care in his absence. The baggage consisted of a somewhat +sorry looking portmanteau, which was taken to our chamber. We then had +supper, during which the Count and my long-nosed friend talked of chess +play, while Captain Ferragant ate in frowning silence, now and then +casting no very tolerant glances at us two visitors. I would have tried +by conversation to gain some closer knowledge of this man, but I saw +there was no getting him to talk while that mood lasted. After supper +the Count and the Captain sat over their wine in a manner which showed a +long drinking bout to be their regular evening custom. Monsieur de +Pepicot and I accompanied them as far as our position as guests +required. We then plead the fatigue of recent travel, and were shown to +our room, in which an additional bed had been placed. The Count was by +this time sufficiently forward in his devotions to Bacchus to dispense +easily with such dull company as ours, and the Captain, by the free +breath he drew as we rose to go, showed his relief at our departure. + +When the servant had placed our candles and left us alone, I expressed a +wonder why so great a house could not afford us a room apiece. + +"It is very simple," said the long-nosed man, opening his portmanteau. +"If they should take a fancy to make caged birds of us, it's easier +tending one cage than two." + +I went to bed wondering what the morrow had in store. I saw now clearly +that I might accomplish something by informing the Count that Monsieur +de Merri was dead and that he was on his way to Lavardin when I met him. +His failure to appear could not then be held as evidence of guilt: his +intention to come might count much in the Countess's favour. + +As my head sank into the pillow, there came suddenly to my mind the +second of the three maxims Blaise Tripault had learned from the monk: + +"_Never sleep in a house where the master is old and the wife young._" + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +STRANGE DISAPPEARANCES + + +Monsieur de Pepicot spent so many minutes among the contents of his +travelling bag, that he was not in bed as soon as I. But he was by far +the sooner asleep, as his loud snoring testified. To that music ran my +thoughts of the beautiful young Countess and her unhappy situation, till +at last they passed into dreams. In the midst of the night I woke, and +listened for my neighbour's snoring. But it had ceased. Then I strained +my ears to catch the sound of his breathing, but none came. Wondering at +this, I rose and went over toward his bed. There was just light enough +by the window to see that it was empty. + +I was still in the midst of my surprise, when the door opened with a +very slight creak, and in walked a slim figure so silently that I knew +it was without shoes. + +"Is that you, Monsieur de Pepicot?" I asked. + +"H'sh," he replied in a whisper, closing the door carefully. "Don't +disturb the slumbers of the household. You are very wakeful." + +"No more so than you are, it seems," I said. + +"That is true. I often suffer from sleeplessness, and I find a walk is +the thing to put me right." + +"You were wise to take a light with you on your walk," I observed, for +he now produced a small lantern from under his loose-fitting doublet, +where it had been entirely concealed. + +"Yes; one might hurt one's toes in these dark passages," he answered, +and placidly drew some papers from his breast pocket, folded them +carefully by the lantern's light, and then as carefully replaced them. +"I trust you made some progress in your affair here during the +afternoon." + +"Yes. But you were kept busy with the Count." + +"Oh, I don't complain. I was about to say that if you preferred to leave +the house to-night, no doubt I could manage it for you." + +"Why should I prefer to leave to-night?" + +"Oh, merely because this Count may be a dangerous man to have much to do +with. I know nothing of your affairs, and of course you have no interest +in mine. The Count will understand that, no doubt, and will not hold you +responsible for anything I may do, if you choose to stay here longer." + +"Well, I must stay here longer, in any case." + +"Then there is no more to be said," answered the long-nosed man, +extinguishing his lantern, which he wrapped up and put into his +portmanteau. He then lay down upon his bed, without undressing. + +I returned to my own couch and was soon asleep. + +When I woke again, it was daylight. Monsieur de Pepicot and his +portmanteau were gone. It occurred to me now, as I washed and dressed, +that when he spoke of my departing by night he intended to make just +such an unceremonious exit himself. In that case, I inferred, he had +thought it only fair, as I had helped him to get into the chateau, that +he should offer to help me to get out, for he had made no secret of his +fears that we might find opposition to our doing so. But, if he had +indeed fled, how had he contrived to get out in the middle of the night? +As for his purpose in getting in, he must have accomplished that while +on his midnight perambulations. + +I went downstairs, but he was not in the hall, nor on the terrace nor in +the court-yard. It was a fine morning, and I was for walking about. At +one side of the court-yard the wall was pierced by a narrow gateway, +which took me into a second court-yard, of which one of the further +angles was filled by a quadrant of the great tower that rose toward +heaven from a corner of the main chateau. There was a small door from +this court-yard to the tower. This tower, for its bigness and height, +took my eyes the first moment, but the next they were attracted by the +living figures in the court-yard. These were Captain Ferragant and a +pack of great hounds which he was marshalling before him, throwing a +piece of meat now to one, now to another, calling out by name which +animal was to catch. He indeed managed to keep them in some sort of +order and from closing around him, and though they all barked and leaped +at each throw, yet only the one whose name was called would dare +actually to close jaws upon the titbit. This went on for some time, +until at last one huge brute, leaping higher, seized the meat intended +for another. + +The red Captain swore a fierce oath, and, grasping a whip, called the +interloping dog to come to him. The animal slunk back. The Captain +advanced among the pack, still calling the hound in the most threatening +voice. But the hound slunk further, growling and showing his teeth. The +Captain sprang forward and brought down his whip. The dog, mutinous, +made a snap at the Captain. The latter, now deeply enraged, threw aside +the whip, caught the animal by the neck, lifted it high, and, with a +swift contraction of his fingers, caused its eyes and tongue to protrude +and its body to writhe and hang powerless. He then flung the dead +creature to a corner of the yard, and looked at me with a smile half +vaunting, half amused, as if to say, "That is how I can treat those who +thwart my will," and to ridicule my wonder at his fury and strength. + +I turned with a look of pity toward the victim of his anger. At that +moment the Count de Lavardin entered the court-yard, and his glance +followed mine. Having seen what I saw, he looked protestingly at the +Captain. + +"The brute was rebellious," said Ferragant. + +"But one doesn't run across such dogs every day," complained the Count. + +"The rarest dog shall not defy me," was the cool answer. + +"That's all very well, if it had been your own dog," said the Count, +still peevish. + +"Oh, as to that, we are quits now. Your dog to-day pays for my man you +killed last week." + +"Pish, it's easy enough to find rascals like that by the score. Not so, +dogs like this. Well, talking won't make him live again--Good morning, +Monsieur. Where is your comrade, Monsieur de Pepicot?" + +I could only answer that on waking I had been disappointed of seeing +either Monsieur de Pepicot or his baggage. "Nor have I beheld him since, +though I have been looking about." + +"That is very strange,--that he should take his baggage from the room," +said the Count, exchanging a look of surprise with the Captain. He then +called two servants and gave them orders quietly, which must have been +to search the house and grounds for Monsieur de Pepicot. As we returned +to the hall, the Count questioned me, watching me sharply the while. I +was perfectly safe in telling the literal truth, though not all of it: +how Monsieur de Pepicot was a stranger to me, how I had never spoken to +him before yesterday, how I knew nothing of his business, and so forth. +Of course I said nothing of his midnight walk or of having conversed +with him at all after going to bed. The Count's mystification and +annoyance were manifest, the more so when, after some time, the servants +returned to say that the missing man could not be found. When he had +heard their report, the Count was very angry. + +"Name of the devil, then, how did he get out? There is treachery +somewhere, and somebody shall pay for it," he screeched, and then +despatched a man to the cabaret to see if Monsieur de Pepicot had taken +his horse away. The man came back saying the horse was gone, but nobody +had seen the owner take it. + +"It is certainly odd that the gentleman should depart secretly like +that, when he might have waited for day and gone civilly," said I, to +evince my simplicity. + +"You are right, very right," said the Count. "Well, at least you remain +to play a game of chess with me. What I am thinking is, the man must +have had some private reason for obtaining entrance to my house." + +"Possibly, Monsieur," I replied, bearing the searching gaze of both the +Count and the Captain well enough. + +"In that case, he made a tool of you," added the Count, still intent on +my expression. + +"That would be the inference," said I. + +"Well, we must satisfy ourselves as to how he took his departure, if we +cannot guess why. Make yourself master of the house, Monsieur. We shall +have our game nevertheless." + +And he went off with the Captain, to examine the places of exit from the +chateau and the men who were responsible for their security. One could +see that Monsieur de Pepicot's disappearance was as disturbing to the +Count as it was puzzling to me. + +I wandered out to the terrace and paced the walk along the house. My +eyes turned toward that window in the west wing which I knew to belong +to the apartments of the Countess. I turned along the wing, and strolled +under that window, thinking Madame or Mathilde might make an appearance +at it. I kept moving to and fro within easy earshot of it, sometimes +glancing up at the half-open casement. This was the clay on which the +poor lady's fate was to be determined by her husband and lord. I +wondered what sort of scene was arranged for the event, whether it would +have the form of trial and judgment, when and where it would occur, and +if I should be admitted to it. Probably I should not, and therefore I +would best speak to the Count regarding Monsieur de Merri before. The +thing was, to find a pretext for broaching the matter without betraying +that I had talked with the Countess. I had thought all this over during +the night, a hundred times, but now I thought it over again; and, in +vague search for some hint or guidance, I looked often up to the window, +as I have said. + +Presently I heard a single sharp, low syllable of laughter, which drew +my glance to the door by which I had come out to the terrace. There +stood the red Captain, his eyes upon me. When he saw that I noticed him, +he came toward me, whereupon I, with pretended carelessness, went to +meet him half way. + +"You seem to find it very interesting, that window," said he, in a low +voice. "To me it looks like any of the others." And he ran his glance +ironically along the whole range. + +"I thought you had gone with the Count to learn how Monsieur de Pepicot +got away," said I, guessing that he had come back to watch me, doubtless +considering that, after the evident duplicity of one guest, the other +might require some looking after. + +"And so you thought yourself free to post yourself over there and make +eyes at that window?" said the Captain with a smile that half jeered at +me, half threatened me with annihilation. + +"I do not quite understand your little jest," said I, boldly enough. + +"You may find it one of those jests in which the laugh is only on one +side, and that side not yours, young gentleman. Your friend with the +long nose, it appears, had his secret motives for paying a visit to this +chateau. We smelt some such thing when the letter came asking for a set +of chessmen, and so the Count admitted you, thinking you just as safe +inside the chateau as outside. It was not the intention to let you out +again in too great haste." + +"In that case," I put in, feigning to treat the matter gaily, "Monsieur +de Pepicot was wise in leaving as he did." + +"I was about to say that if Monsieur de Pepicot had his secret purposes, +it is but fair to suppose you may have yours. If it turns out to be so, +and if your object has anything to do with what you may imagine is +behind that window,--why, then, I warn you in time it would be much +better for you to have been that dog which opposed me a while ago,--very +much better, my pert young gentleman, I assure you." + +He turned and walked into the house, leaving me without any fit answer +on my tongue, or indeed in my mind either. + +It appeared to me that the sooner I had my explanation with the Count, +the better for both the Countess and myself. So I returned into the +hall, which the Captain was leaving by the court-yard door, and waited +for the Count's reappearance. When he did come, it was clear from his +face that the manner of Monsieur de Pepicot's escape--for escape it must +now be called--was still a mystery. It was plain, too, when his eyes +alighted on me, that he had heard from the Captain, who followed him, of +my conduct beneath the window. As he came toward me, he scowled and +looked very wicked and crafty. Before he could speak, I said: + +"Monsieur, there is something I wish to tell you, if you will allow me +to speak to you alone." + +"Regarding Monsieur de Pepicot?" + +"No; regarding myself and the reason of my coming to Lavardin." + +"That is interesting. Let us hear." + +"It is for you alone." + +"Oh, to be sure. Captain Ferragant, if you will excuse me,--" + +The Captain, with a shrug, swaggered off to the furthest corner of the +hall. + +"You have been acquainted," I began, "with a certain Monsieur de Merri." + +The Count's face seemed to jump. I had certainly caught his attention. +But his speech was perfectly controlled as he said: + +"Yes. And what of him?" + +"He had the misfortune to be killed in a sudden duel four days ago at La +Flèche." + +He was plainly startled; but, after a moment's silence, he only said, +"You astonish me," and waited for me to continue. + +"I feared I should," said I, "for it turned out, after the duel, that +Monsieur de Merri was on his way to see you, upon some matter of great +urgency." + +"On his way to see me! How do you know that?" + +I thought it best to tell as much truth as possible. + +"I learned from his servant that he was bound in great haste for +Montoire. Coming to Montoire, I inquired, and was informed that his only +tie in this neighbourhood was his acquaintance with you. Therefore it +must have been you he was coming to see, and his haste implied the +urgency of his reasons, whatever they may have been. Thinking you might +be depending upon his arrival, I resolved to tell you of his death." + +"It is a little odd that you should put yourself out to do that." + +"It might be, if I were not responsible for his failure to come to you." + +"Oh, then it was you who killed him?" + +"Yes; and thought it only the proper act of a gentleman to carry the +news to the person who may have expected him." + +"H'm. No doubt. But why did you not come directly and tell me?" + +"I heard you made yourself entirely inaccessible to strangers. So when +Monsieur de Pepicot spoke of asking you to lend us chessmen, I thought +it might lead to some breaking down of your reserve,--as it did." + +"But why did you wait a day before telling me?" + +"I hoped that chance might enable me to see you alone. But you were so +deeply engrossed in your chess. And I hesitated lest you might think +yourself bound, as Monsieur de Merri's friend, to deliver me up for +having violated the edict." + +These were certainly sufficient reasons, though, as you know, I had not +thought of telling him of Monsieur de Merri till after I had heard the +Countess's story, and therefore they were not the true answer to his +question. But I no longer found safe standing on the ground of truth, +and so fell back upon the soil of invention, uncertain as it was. The +Count looked as far into me as he could, and then called the Captain, +who came without haste to the great fireplace where we were. Without any +explanation to me, or other preface, the Count repeated my disclosure to +his friend, all the time in the manner of one submitting a story to the +hearer's judgment as to its truth. + +The Captain shrugged his shoulders, and looked at me scornfully. "It is +a fine, credible tale indeed," said he. + +"If you will take the trouble to send to La Flèche, you will find that +Monsieur de Merri is really slain," said I warmly. + +"Oh, no doubt," said the Captain. "But before he was slain, he had time +to take you into his confidence regarding certain things." + +"Not at all. I had never seen him before that evening. It was from his +servant, after he was dead, that I learned he was coming to Montoire. If +you can find that servant, at La Flèche or Sablé, he will tell you so." + +"How could he have known he was wanted here?" asked the Captain of the +Count. "Your offer of a messenger was disdained." + +"I knew she would contrive to send after him on her own account, if I +gave her enough liberty," returned the Count. + +"It argues skill in such contrivances," said the Captain, with a +significant look. + +The Count frowned in a sickly way, but not at the speaker. "Well, in any +case, the liberty will now be cut off," he said harshly. But after a +moment, he added: "And yet, if this gentleman does not lie, Monsieur de +Merri was coming here fast enough." + +"To brazen it out, perhaps. There is no limit to the self-confidence of +youth. As for this gentleman, how does his story account for the +interest he takes in a certain window that looks upon the terrace?" + +The Count's face darkened again, as he turned menacingly toward me. +"Yes, by heaven, I had forgotten that." + +"To be frank," said I awkwardly, after a moment's hesitation, "I had +seen a pretty face there--I mean that of Mathilde." I added the last +words in haste, for the Count's look had shown for an instant that he +took me to mean that of the Countess. + +"Ah! that of Mathilde," he repeated, subsiding. + +"And how did you know her name was Mathilde?" asked the Captain, in a +cold, derisive tone. The Count's eyes waited for my answer. + +"I--exchanged a few words with her yesterday afternoon," I replied. + +"In regard to what subject?" asked the Count quickly, making a veritable +grimace in the acuteness of his suspicion. + +"I paid her a compliment or two, such as one bestows upon a pretty +girl." + +"He is evading," said the Captain. "It is a question whether he did not +presume to offer his compliments higher. One does not say to a pretty +girl, 'What is your name?' nor does the girl reply 'Mathilde,' as if she +were a child. It is more likely he heard the girl's name from other +lips. And was he not found spying about the west gallery by Ambroise? My +dear Count, I fear you kept your nose too close to the chessboard +yesterday afternoon. As for me, if I had known as much as I know now, I +should have been more watchful." + +The Count's face had turned sicklier and uglier as his friend had +continued to speak. He looked now as if he would like to pounce upon me +with his claw-like fingers. He was evidently between the desire to +question me outright as to whether anything had passed between me and +the Countess, and the dislike of showing openly to a stranger any +suspicion of his wife. The latter feeling prevailed, and he regained +control of himself. I breathed a little easier. But just then it +occurred to me that the Count would surely tax the Countess with having +seen me; that she would acknowledge our meeting; and that her own +account of it would be disbelieved, and the worst imaginings added, for +the very reason of my maintaining secrecy about it. I therefore took a +sudden course. + +"Monsieur," I said. "I will be perfectly open with you. From some casual +words of Monsieur de Merri at the inn at La Flèche, before we +quarrelled, I was led to believe that the cause of his journey had +something to do with the welfare of a lady. Afterwards when I heard +whither he was bound so hastily, I remembered that. On learning at +Montoire that this chateau was the only house in which he was known +hereabouts, I assumed that the lady must be in this chateau. It turned +out that the only lady here was the Countess herself. Do you wonder, +then, at my endeavouring to speak to the Countess first upon the matter +of Monsieur de Merri's death?" + +"Pray go on," said the Count, who was taking short and rapid breaths. + +"It is true I saw the maid at that window, but I saw also the +impossibility of communicating properly with Madame by that channel. So, +in spite of your sentinel's vigilance, I crossed the balustrade to the +garden, and there had the honour of presenting myself to the Countess. I +acquainted her with the fate of Monsieur de Merri. Her demeanour causing +me to believe that this put her into peril on her own account, I so +pushed my inquiries and offers of service that she told me what that +peril was. She said she was the victim of a slander which only Monsieur +de Merri's presence here could clear her of. We were soon interrupted +and she left me. I did not see her again, but it appeared to me that, as +Monsieur de Merri's presence here would have stood in her favour, the +news of his intention to be here must also stand that way. And now, +Monsieur, you have the whole story." + +It seemed to have weight with him: but, alas, he looked to the Captain +for an opinion. That gentleman, regarding me with a smile of ironical +admiration, uttered a monosyllabic laugh in his throat, and said: + +"There is one thing we can believe, at least. We know Monsieur de +Merri's habit of disclosing his affairs with ladies to strangers at +inns." + +The Count's face grew dark again. + +"But we can never be sure how much may have passed between Monsieur de +Merri and this gentleman on the subject before they quarrelled, or what +was the real motive that brought him here." + +"My God!" I cried; "what gentleman could require a stronger motive than +I have shown? Having prevented Monsieur de Merri from coming here upon +so urgent a matter, what else could I do in honour but come in his +place?" + +"'In his place'--yes, perhaps, that is well said," retorted the Captain, +with his evil smile. + +The Count, whose judgment seemed entirely under the dominion of his +friend, looked at me again as if he would destroy me. After a moment, he +took a turn across the hall and back, and then said to me: + +"Well, in the midst of all this deceit and uncertainty one thing is +clear. You know too much of our private affairs here to be permitted to +go where you will, for the present. I must ask you, therefore, to keep +to your chamber awhile. Your wants will be provided for there. I will +show you the way myself, on this occasion." He motioned toward the +stairway, and the Captain stood ready to accompany him. + +"That amounts to making me a prisoner, Monsieur," said I. + +"We shall not dispute over words," replied the Count. "By your own +confession, you are liable to the law for killing Monsieur de Merri." + +"I have reason to expect the King's pardon for that. Measures have +already been taken." + +"Pray don't keep me waiting, Monsieur. I should not like to be compelled +to have my men lay hands on you." At the same time his smile looked as +if he would like that very much. + +There was nothing to do, for the moment, but yield. The Captain was +watching to see where my hand moved, and I know not how many armed men +were in the court-yard, besides the servants waiting at the other end of +the hall. So I obeyed the Count's gesture, merely saying: + +"You will find I am not a person who will go unavenged in case of +indignity." + +The Count laughed, in his dry, sharp manner, and walked by my side. The +Captain followed. As soon as I was in my room, the Count called a +servant, who went away and presently returned with a key. The Count and +his friend then left me, and locked the door on the outside. As I sat +down on my bed, I was glad I had offered no useless resistance, for, as +it was, I had not been deprived of my weapons. + +To make a short matter here of what seemed a very long one at the time, +I was kept locked in my room all that day, with two armed men outside my +door, as I guessed first from hearing them, and certified afterwards by +seeing them when a servant brought my food. What made the confinement +and inaction the more trying was my knowledge that this was the day on +which the Countess was to plead her innocence. I kept wondering through +the tedious hours how matters were going with her, and I often strained +my ears in the poor hope of discovering by them what might be going on +in the chateau. But I never heard anything but the rough speech and +movements of the men outside my door, and now and then the voice of some +attendant on the terrace below my window. I could look diagonally across +the terrace to the window where I had seen Mathilde, but not once during +all that day did I behold a sign of life there. The night came without +bringing me any hint as to how the Countess had fared. I could not sleep +till late. + +When I woke, early in the morning, I noticed that my door was slightly +ajar. Looking out, I found the corridor empty. I took this to mean that +I was not to remain a prisoner, and so it proved. Hastily dressing and +going downstairs, though many servants were about, I encountered no +hindrance. I passed out to the terrace. To my surprise, nobody was on +guard at the steps; so I went boldly down to the garden. My heart beat +with a vague hope of meeting the Countess, though it was scarce late +enough in the day to expect her to be out. I must confess it was not +alone her being an oppressed lady whom I had engaged myself to aid, that +made me look so eagerly down all the walks and peer so keenly into all +the arbours; I must confess it was largely the impression her beauty and +tenderness had left upon me. But I was disappointed: I explored the +whole garden in vain. + +Anything to be near her, I thought. So I went and hung about the door +between the garden and her apartments. But it remained closed and +enigmatic. I had another idea, and, returning into the house, took my +way unchecked to the gallery of pictures, wondering at the freedom of +passage now allowed me, and at the same time resolved to make the most +of it. I could scarce believe my eyes when I saw the door ajar which led +to Madame's suite. I went and tapped lightly on it, but got no answer. +It opened to a large drawing-room, well furnished but without any +inhabitant. I crossed this room to the other side, which had two doors, +both open. One gave entrance to a sleeping-chamber, in a corner of which +was a prie-dieu, and which showed in a hundred details to be the bedroom +of a lady. But the bed was made up, and a smaller bed, in a recess, +which might be that of the maid, also had the appearance of not having +been used the previous night. I looked through the other doorway from +the drawing-room, and saw a stairway leading down to the garden door. +Had the Countess and Mathilde, then, gone into the garden at the time I +was in the act of coming to the gallery? No; for the garden door was +bolted on the inside. I went to one of the drawing-room windows looking +on the terrace, and made sure it was the window from which Mathilde had +first answered my call. And then it dawned upon me what the desertion of +these rooms meant, and why I was allowed to go where I would in the +house and garden. The Countess and her maid were no longer there. What +had become of them? + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +MATHILDE + + +Well, there was no indication to be found in the Countess's apartments +as to where she had removed to, and I thought it best not to risk being +seen there. So I went down to the hall again. As I glanced through the +court-yard to the outer gates, I thought of trying to leave the chateau, +to see if my new liberty went so far as to permit that. But I reflected +that if I were once let out I might not be let in again, and my chance +of learning what had become of the Countess lay, I supposed, inside the +chateau. So I resolved to stay there and await the turn that matters +might take. And certainly never was any man a guest in stranger +circumstances of guestship. I hated and feared my host, and was loth to +accept his hospitality, yet stayed of my own will, though I knew not +certainly whether I was free to go. My host hated me, yet tolerated my +presence--if indeed he would not have enforced it--for the sake of +having me at hand if he thought fit to crush me. When he appeared that +morning, I thanked him ironically for restoring me to liberty. He only +uttered his harsh crackling laugh in reply, and regarded me with a +pretended disdain which failed to conceal his hatred and his longing to +penetrate my mind and learn what indeed was between me and his Countess. +In such men, especially when they have an evil suggester like the +Captain at their ear, jealousy is a madness, and no assurances--nay, not +even oaths--of innocence will be taken by them as truth. But his pride +made him feign contempt for me, and he had nothing to say to me that +day. Neither had the Captain, whose manner toward me merely reverted to +what it had been at first. I saw my former place made ready at the +table, and took it. The Count and his friend talked of their sports and +the affairs of the estate, and not one word of the Countess was spoken. +Having eaten, they went off to ride, leaving me to amuse myself as I +might. The air of the chateau seemed the freer for their absence, but +still it was to me a sinister place, and an irreligious place too, for, +though the Count and his friend were Catholics, I had not seen the sign +of a chaplain or of any religious observance since I had crossed the +drawbridge. So I prepared myself for a dull yet anxious day, and lounged +about the hall and court-yard as the places where I might best hope to +find out something from the domestics of the house. + +As I paced the stones of the court-yard, I became aware that a certain +maidservant had been obtruding upon my view with a persistency that +might be intentional. I now regarded her, as she stood in a small +doorway leading to the kitchen. She was a plump, well-made thing, with a +wholesome, honest face, but the sluttishness of her loose frock, and of +a great cap that hung over her eyes, were too suggestive of the +scullery. As soon as she saw I noticed her, she put one finger on her +lip, and swiftly beckoned me with another. + +I strolled carelessly over, and stopped within a foot of her, pretending +to readjust my sword-belt. + +"Monsieur," she said in an undertone, "you are desired to be in your +chamber this afternoon at four o'clock." + +I glanced at the girl in wonder. + +"That is all at present," she whispered. I had the discretion to move +on. There were, as usual, several armed fellows idling about the +court-yard, but none seemed to have observed that any word had passed +between the kitchen-maid and me. + +Here was matter for astonishment and conjecture for the next few hours. +In some manner or other, those hours passed, and at four I was seated in +my chamber, having left the door open an inch or so. The turret clock +had scarce done striking when the door was pushed wide; somebody entered +and instantly closed it. I had a brief feeling of disappointment as I +saw the slovenly frock and overhanging cap of the kitchen-maid. Was it +she, then, who paid me the compliment of this clandestine visit? + +No; for the cap was swiftly flung back from the brow, and there was the +bright and comely face of Mathilde. I uttered her name in pleased +surprise. + +"Yes," she said quickly, "Mathilde in the guise of Brigitte. I have come +from Madame the Countess." + +"And where is she?" I asked eagerly. + +"In the great tower." + +"A prisoner?" + +"Yes, and I with her. Fortunately there was nothing else to do with me, +unless they killed me. So I am able to attend her." + +"Faithful Mathilde! But why is this?" + +"It is the fulfilment of the Count's threat in case Madame could not +clear herself of that false charge." + +"But the Count knew that Monsieur de Merri was coming here. I told him." + +"Yes, Monsieur, but the Count would believe as much of your story as +Captain Ferragant would choose to let him. Your very interest in +Madame's fate has been new food for his jealousy." + +"God forbid!" + +"It is not your fault, Monsieur; it is the Count's madness. He locks his +wife up, as much that she may be inaccessible to you and all other men, +as because of anything concerning Monsieur de Merri." + +"You may well call it his madness." + +"Yes; for, whatever other ladies may have deserved who have been treated +thus, the Countess is the most virtuous of wives. Her regard for her +marriage vows--in spite of the husband she has--is a part of her +religion. But his mind is poisoned. He naturally believes that a young +and beautiful woman would not be faithful to an old wolf like him. And +he is almost right, for there is only one young and beautiful woman in +France who would be, and that is the Countess." + +"Surely not because she loves him?" + +"Oh, no. It is because of her religion. She was brought up at a convent +school, and when the Count offered to marry her, the Mother Superior +made her think it her duty and heaven's will that she should accept the +high position, where her piety would shine so much further: and having +become his wife, she would die rather than violate a wife's duties by a +hair's breadth. But what is her reward? Not because he loves +her--there's more love in a stone!--but because he can't endure the +thought of any trespass on what is his--because he dreads being made a +jeer of--he goes mad with jealousy and suspicion. He imitates the Prince +of Condé by locking his wife up in a tower." + +"But this cannot last forever." + +"No, Monsieur, and for a very good reason--the Countess's life cannot +last forever under this treatment--even if the Count, in some wild +imagining of her guilt, conjured up by Captain Ferragant, does not +murder her. It's that thought which makes me shudder. It could be done +so quietly in that lonely cell, and any account of her death could be +given out to avoid scandal." + +"Horrible, Mathilde! He would not go to that length." + +"Men have done so. You are a stranger, and have not seen the frenzies +into which the Count sometimes works himself, torturing his mind by +imagining actions of infidelity on her part." + +"But that disease of his mind will wear itself out; then he will see +matters more sanely." + +"Will he grow better, do you think, as he grows older, and drinks more +wine, and falls more under the influence of the red Captain?" + +To say truth, I thought as Mathilde did, though I had spoken otherwise +for mere form of reassurance. + +"What is her prison like?" I asked. + +"A gloomy room no larger that this, with a single small window. There is +no panelling nor tapestry nor plaster--nothing but the bare stones. +There are a bed for Madame, a cot for me, a table, and two chairs: +nothing else to make it look like a human habitation, save our +crucifixes, an image of the Virgin, a trunk, and Madame's book of +Hours." + +"A small window, you say. Is it barred?" + +"No; but our room is very high up in the tower." + +"Still, if one got through the window--is it large enough for that?" + +"One might get through; but the moat is beneath--far beneath." + +"The window looks toward Montoire, then, if the moat is beneath." + +"Yes; we can see the sunset." + +"At all events, a person dropping from the window would alight outside +the walls of the chateau?" + +"Yes, Monsieur,--in the moat, as I said. It would be a long drop, too. I +don't know how high up the room is. It seems a great many steps up the +winding stairs before one comes to the landing before the door." + +"Is it at the top of the tower, then?" + +"No; for beyond our door the stairs begin again, and they seem to wind +more steeply." + +"You noticed the sunset. Then you must have been there yesterday +evening." + +"Yes; we were taken there shortly after noon yesterday. That was the +limit to the time given the Countess in which to prove her innocence. +She was summoned to the picture gallery by the Count himself, and nobody +else was there but Captain Ferragant. The door was closed against me, +and what passed between that saint and those two devils I know not; but +after a little the door was opened, and there she was, very pale and +with her eyes raised in prayer. The Count, who was blue with +vindictiveness, told me to get together what things Madame should order; +and when that was done, he bade us follow, and led the way down to the +court-yard and to the tower, the Captain walking behind. As we climbed +those narrow winding steps, I wished the Count might trip in the +half-darkness and break his neck, but alas, it was only poor Madame who +stumbled now and then. The Count showed us into the room, already +furnished for us, and waited till a man had brought the trunk in which I +had put some of Madame's clothes. The Count left without a word, and we +heard the door locked outside. At first I thought we were to be left to +starve, but after some hours the door was unlocked by a man on guard +outside, and Brigitte appeared with our supper. She told us she was to +come twice a day with our food, and for other necessary services. And +when she came again this morning, I had planned how I should manage to +see you." + +"You are as clever as you are true, Mathilde." + +"Fortunately Brigitte looks such a simple, witless creature that the man +on guard on the landing has not thought to pry while she has been with +us, and has allowed the door to be shut. He cannot then see in, as the +grated opening has been closed, out of regard to Madame's sex. So this +morning I got Brigitte's consent to my plan, for the poor girl is the +softest-hearted creature in the world. And to make sure of finding you +immediately when I got out, I charged her to tell you to be in your room +at four o'clock." + +"Which she did very adroitly." + +"She is not such a fool as some take her for. Well, when she came to us +awhile ago, I transferred this frock and cap from her to me, and had her +call out to the guard that she had forgotten something and must return +to the kitchen for it. 'Very well, beauty,' said the guard ironically, +and I came out in a great hurry, and was on my way downstairs before he +could take a second look at me. The landing is a dark place, and my +figure so much like Brigitte's that her clothes make it look quite the +same. There is another man on guard, at the bottom of the stairs, but he +was as easily deceived as the one above. I ran across the two +court-yards, and through the kitchen passage to the servants' stairs, +and nobody glanced twice at me. Brigitte, of course, must stay with +Madame till I return,--and now, Monsieur, it is time I was back, and I +have said nothing of what I came to say." + +"You have said much that is important. But 'tis true, you'd best say the +rest quickly,--your return may be dangerous enough." + +"Oh, I shall go so fast that nobody will have time to suspect me. As for +the guards, it is their duty to keep me in. Should they see it is I who +was out, they will be very glad to have me in again, and to hold their +tongues, for the Count's punishments are not light. But as to Madame's +message--she would have tried to convey it by Brigitte, had I not +declared I would come at all hazards,--for the truth is, I have +something to say on my own responsibility, also." + +"But Madame's message?" I demanded eagerly. + +"She begs that you will go away while you can. So brave a young +gentleman should not stay here to risk the Count's vengeance." + +I felt joy at this concern for my safety. + +"If I am a brave man," I answered, "I can only stay and help her." + +"I am glad you are of that mind, Monsieur, for it is what I think. That +is what _I_ had to say to you." + +"Then the only question is, how can I be of use to the Countess? She +must be released from this imprisonment." + +"There I agree with you again. She ought to be taken away--far out of +reach of the Count's vengeance--before he has time to make her plight +worse than it is, or carry out any design against her life. But even if +she remained as she is, her health would not long endure it." + +"Now that matters have come to this pass, no doubt she is willing to run +away." + +"Not yet, Monsieur. That is for me to persuade her. But if we form some +plan of escape now, I hope I can win her consent before the time comes +to carry it out." + +"I trust so. When she repelled the idea of escape, the day I saw her in +the garden, things had not gone so far. And then she thought there was +no safe place of refuge for her. But I can find a place. And she thought +an attempt must be hopeless because the Count would be swift to pursue. +But if we got some hours' start, going at night--" + +"Yes, certainly it will have to be at night, Monsieur. The Count has the +roads watched from the tower, for some purpose of his own--I think he +expects some enemy." + +"You still have the key to the postern?" + +"It must be where I left it--buried under the rose-bush nearest the +postern itself. But the first thing is, to get out of the room in the +tower." + +"Certainly. It would not be possible for Madame to get out as you have +done--by a disguise, I mean?" + +"No, Monsieur. Brigitte is the only one who comes to us, with whom she +might change clothes. And Madame is not at all of Brigitte's figure--nor +could she mimic Brigitte's walk as I can. She could not act a part in +the slightest degree. And I know that Madame would never consent to go +and leave me behind to bear the Count's wrath. We must all three go +together. Besides Brigitte comes and goes in the daytime, and Madame +must escape at night." + +"Yes, that is certain. It is hard to devise a plan in a moment. If I +could think of it over night, and you come to me again to-morrow--but +no, you may not be able to play this same trick again--the guards may +detect you going back." + +"That is true, and I have thought of one plan, though it may be +difficult." + +"Let me hear it, nevertheless." + +"Then listen, Monsieur. First, as to the door of our cell. It is locked +with a key, which the Count himself retains, except when he goes out, as +this afternoon,--it is then entrusted to the seneschal. I know this from +Brigitte, for the key is given to her when she comes to us. She hands it +to the guard on the landing, who opens the door and keeps the key while +she is within. When she leaves us, he locks the door, and she takes the +key back to the Count or seneschal. But in order to release Madame, you +must have that key." + +"And how am I to get it?" + +"After Brigitte's last visit to us before the night we select, she will +give the Count or seneschal, not the real key to our cell, but another +of the same size and general shape--she has access to unimportant keys +about the house. Then she will bring the real key to you." + +"But poor Brigitte!--when the Count investigates in the morning, he will +find she has given him the wrong key." + +Mathilde thought a moment. "No; he will rather suppose you robbed him of +the right key during the night and substituted the other to delay +discovery. He will suspect anything rather than Brigitte, whom he thinks +too great a fool for the least craft; and even if she is accused, she +can play the innocent. I assure you." + +"So much for that, then. There is yet the door of entrance to the +tower." + +"At present it has an old broken key in the lock, which is therefore +useless. But no doubt that will be remedied--so we must act soon. +Meanwhile, that door is guarded by the man at the foot of the stairs." + +"But are the two guards on duty at night also? There is no Brigitte to +be let in and out then. And surely the Count doesn't think you can break +your lock." + +"There are guards on duty, nevertheless. Last night I heard one call +down the stairs to another, asking the time. They are there, no doubt, +not for fear of our breaking out, but for fear of somebody breaking in +to help Madame. I don't suppose there are ever more than two. If the +rule has not been changed, the rest of the household sleeps, except a +porter in the gate-house and a man on top of the tower. But this man +watches the roads, as well as he can in the darkness, and the porter too +is more concerned about people who might want to enter the chateau than +about what goes on inside. So in the dead of night you can go silently +downstairs and let yourself out of the hall--" + +"But is not the hall door locked with a key?" + +"Yes; but the key is left always in the lock. You have then only to +cross the two court-yards to the lower, without making any noise to +alarm the porter at the gate-house or to warn the guard at the tower +entrance." + +"Will he be inside or outside the tower door, I wonder?" + +"Probably inside, where there is a bench just at the foot of the stairs. +He and his comrade above will be your only real difficulty, Monsieur. If +you can take them by surprise, one at a time--" + +"One at a time, or two at a time," said I, beginning to walk up and down +the chamber, and grasping my sword and dagger. "But the trouble will be, +the noise that may be made when I encounter them,--it may arouse the +chateau and spoil all." + +"But heaven may grant that you will surprise the men inside the tower, +one at the foot of the stairs, the other on our landing, as they must +have been last night. In that case, if you can keep the fighting inside +the tower, till--" + +"Till they are dead. Yes, in that case, if I am expeditious, no noise +may be heard outside. That is a thing to aim for. If they, or one, +should be outside, I can rush in and so draw them after me. Well, and +when I have done for them--?" + +"Then you have but to unlock our door, and Madame and I will join +you.--You will know our door by there being a stool in the landing +before it--the guard sits there.--Well, then we must fly silently +through the court-yards and the hall, let ourselves out to the +terrace--there are two or three ways I know,--and run through the garden +to the postern. Once out of these walls, we must hurry across the fields +to the house of a certain miller--" + +"Hugues? Yes." + +"Yes, Monsieur. The watchman on the tower will not see us in the fields, +for we shall keep close to the woods till we are at a distance. Hugues +can supply two horses, at least, and you and Madame must be as far away +as possible by daylight." + +"And you, Mathilde?" + +"Unless we can get three horses, I will lie hid at Hugues's mill till +Madame finds time to send for me. It will be suitable enough--Hugues and +I are to be married some day." + +"But I have a horse at the inn at Montoire. If I can get it out at that +hour, you can come with us--to whatever place we may decide upon." + +"As to that place, you may consider in the meanwhile. There will be time +to discuss the matter with Madame when she is escaping with you. The +first thing is, to get as far from Lavardin as possible. And now when is +all this to be done?" + +"The sooner the better, for who knows when the Count may take into his +head some new idea?" + +"Yes, of harm to Madame or to yourself." + +"Why should we not choose this very night?" + +"I see no reason against it--except that I may not be able to persuade +Madame. But yet there will be several hours--and surely heaven will help +me!--Yes, to-night! There is nothing for me to do but persuade Madame, +and see that we are dressed as suitably for travel as the clothes at +hand will permit. But first, before Brigitte comes away, I must instruct +her about the key. At what hour will you come, Monsieur?" + +"As soon as the house is asleep." + +"Fortunately, early hours are kept here, as there is never any company. +But the Count and the Captain stay at their cups till ten or eleven +o'clock." + +"Then by that time they must have drunk enough to make them fall asleep +as soon as they are in bed." + +"And sometimes before they are in bed, I have heard the servants say." + +"Then I will leave my room at half-past eleven, but will make sure that +the hall is dark and empty before I proceed." + +"And may the saints aid you, Monsieur, when you have to do with the men +at the tower!" + +"The men will not be expecting me, that is one advantage," said I, +trying to seem calm, but trembling with excitement. "If all goes well, +we should be out of the chateau soon after midnight." + +"And at Hugues's house before one o'clock. You should be on +horseback--the Countess and you--by half-past one. Have you money, +Monsieur?" + +"Yes,--this purse is nearly as full as when I left home." + +"That is well, for Madame has none, and I don't know how much Hugues +could get together in ten minutes. I have ten crowns in his strong-box, +which Madame shall have." + +"They shall stay in Hugues's strong-box, and his own money too. I have +enough." + +"Then I believe that is all, Monsieur, and I'd better be going back. Be +on the watch for Brigitte with the key. Do you think of anything else?" + +We went hurriedly over the various details of the plan, and then she +took her leave, darting along the passage as swiftly as a greyhound and +as silently as a ghost. I sat down to think upon what I had undertaken, +but my mind was in a whirl. Strangely enough, I, the victor of a single +duel, did not shrink from the idea of killing the two guards--or as many +as there might be. Perhaps this was because they were sure to be rascals +whose lives one could not value very highly, especially as against that +of the Countess. Nor did I feel greatly the odds against me, in regard +both to their number and to my inexperience in such business. Perhaps +the apparent confidence of Mathilde in my ability to dispose of them--a +confidence based on my being a gentleman and they underlings--infected +me. And yet I chose not to go too deeply into the probabilities. My +safest course, for my courage, was not to think too much, but to wait +for the moment and then do my best. + +It seemed but a short time till there was a tap at my door, and in came +the real Brigitte. + +"Mathilde got back safe, Monsieur; she was not detected," she said, and +handed me a large key. + +Ere more could pass, she was gone. I put the key in my breast pocket. It +was now time I should show myself to the Count and his friend at table; +which I proceeded to do, as boldly as if I had entertained no design +against them. They were just back from their ride. It was strange with +what outward coolness I was able to carry myself, by dint of not +thinking too closely on what I had undertaken. For observe that, besides +the immediate task of the night, there was Madame's whole future +involved. And how precipitately Mathilde and I had settled upon our +course, without pausing to consider if some more prudent measures might +not be taken to the same end! But I was hurried by my feeling that I +ought to save Madame, the more because no one could say how far the +present situation was due to my having killed De Merri, and to my advent +at the chateau. Even though she might choose not to escape, it was for +me to give her the opportunity, at least. And to tell the truth, I +longed to see her again, at any cost. As for Mathilde, there were her +pressing fears of a worse fate for her mistress, to excuse her haste. +And we were both young, and thought that any project which goes straight +and smoothly in the telling must go straight and smoothly in the doing; +and we looked not far ahead. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE WINDING STAIRS + + +I left the table early, and went to my room. I tore two strips from the +sheet of my bed, and wrapped them around my boots so as to cover the +soles and deaden my footsteps. Slowly the night came, with stars and a +moon well toward the full. But we could keep in shadow while about the +chateau, and the light would aid our travelling later. At half-past ten +o'clock, the house seemed so still I thought the Count must have gone to +bed before his usual time. I stole noiselessly from my room, feeling my +way; and partly down the stairs. But when I got to the head of the lower +flight, I saw that the hall was still lighted. I peered over the +railing. The Count and the Captain were alone, except for two knaves who +sat asleep on their bench at the lower end of the hall. The Count +lounged limply back in his great chair at the head of the table, +unsteadily holding a glass of wine; and the Captain leaned forward on +the board, narrowly regarding the Count. Both were well gone in wine, +the Count apparently the more so. There was a look of mental torment on +the Count's face. + +"Yes, I know, I know," he said, wincing at his own words as if they +pierced him. "There was opportunity enough with that De Merri. I was +blind then. And with this new puppy! Women and lovers have the ingenuity +of devils in devising opportunities. And they both admit their interview +in the garden. But that he could have his way so soon--is that entirely +probable?" + +He looked at the Captain almost beseechingly, as if for a spark of hope. + +The Captain spoke with the calm certainty of wisdom gained through a +world of experience: + +"Young blood is quickly stirred. Young lips are quickly drawn to one +another. Young arms are quick to reach out, and young bodies quick to +yield to them." + +The Count uttered a cry of pain and wrath, his eyes fixed as though upon +the very scene the Captain imagined. + +"The wretches!" said the tortured Count, staggering to his feet. "And I +am the Count de Lavardin!" + +[Illustration: "'THE WRETCHES!' SAID THE TORTURED COUNT, STAGGERING TO +HIS FEET."] + +"The greater nobleman you, the greater conquest for a young nobody to +boast of. It is a fine thought for adventurous youth.--'A great lord, +and a rich, but it is I, an unknown stripling, who really have possessed +what he thinks his dearest treasure.'" + +The Count gave a kind of agonized moan, and went lurching across the +hall, spilling some wine from his glass. "And a man of my years, too!" +he said, with an accent of self-pity. + +"The older the husband, the merrier the laugh at his expense," said the +Captain. + +The Count ground his teeth, and muttered to himself. + +"It is always their boasting that betrays them," went on the Count. +"When I was young, they used to tell of a famous love affair between the +Bussy d'Amboise of that day and the Countess de Montsoreau, wife of the +Grand-huntsman. It came out through Bussy's writing to the King's +brother that he had stolen the hind of the Grand-huntsman. That is how +these young cocks always speak of their conquests. + +"Ah, I remember that. He did the right thing, that Montsoreau! He forced +his false wife to make an appointment with Bussy, and when Bussy came, +it was a dozen armed men who kept the appointment, and the gay lover +died hanging from a window. Yes, that Montsoreau!--but he should have +killed the woman too! The perfidious creatures! Mon dieu!--when I +married her--when she took the vows--she was the picture of fidelity--I +could have staked my soul that she was true; that from duty alone she +was mine always, only mine!" + +He lamented not as one hurt in his love, but as one outraged in his +right of possession and in his dignity and pride. And curiously enough, +his last words caused a look of jealousy to pass across the face of the +Captain. This look, unnoticed by the Count, and speedily repressed, came +to me as a revelation. It seemed to betray a bitter envy of the Count's +mere loveless and unloved right of possession; and it bespoke the +resolve that, if the Captain might not have her smiles, not even her +husband might be content in his rights. Such men will give a woman to +death rather than to any other man. As in a flash, then, I saw his +motive in working upon the Count's insane jealousy. Better the Count +should kill her than that even the Count should possess her. I shuddered +to think how near to murder the Count had been wrought up but a moment +since. At any time his impulse might pass the bounds. I now understood +Mathilde's apprehensions, and saw the need for haste in removing the +Countess far from the power of this madman and his malign instigator. + +The Count, exhausted by his rush of feelings, drained his glass, and +almost immediately gave way to the sudden drowsiness which befalls +drinkers at a certain stage. He staggered to his seat, and fell back in +a kind of daze, the Captain watching him with cold patience. Thinking +they would soon be going to bed, I slipped back to my room. + +A little after eleven, I went forth again. The hall was now dark, and +its silence betokened desertion. I groped my way to the door. The key +turned more noisily than I should have wished, and there was a bolt to +undo, which grated; but I heard no sound of alarm in the house. I +stepped out to the court-yard, closing the door after me. The court-yard +was bathed in moonlight. Keeping close to the house, so as not to be +visible from any upper window, I gained the shadow of the wall +separating the two court-yards. As noiselessly as a cat, I followed that +wall to its gateway; entered the second court-yard, and saw that the +door to the tower was open, a faint light coming from it. The tower +itself, obstructing the moon's rays, threw its shadow across the +paving-stones. I stepped into that shadow, which was only partial; drew +my sword and dagger, and darted straight for the tower entrance, +stopping just inside the doorway. By the light of a lantern hanging +against the wall, I saw a kind of small vestibule, beyond which was an +inner wall, and at one side of which was the beginning of a narrow +spiral staircase, that ran up between walls until it wound out of sight. +On a bench against the inner wall I have mentioned, sat a man, who rose +at sight of me, with one hand grasping a sword, and with the other a +pike that was leaning against the bench. + +He was a heavy, squat fellow, with short, thick legs and short, thick +arms. + +"I give you one chance for your life," said I quickly. "Help me to +escape with your prisoner, and leave the Count's service for mine." + +After a moment's astonishment, the man grunted derisively, and made a +lunge at my breast with his pike. I caught the pike with my left hand, +still holding my dagger therein, and forced it downward. At the same +time I thrust with my rapier, but he parried with his own sword. I +thrust instantly again, and would have pinned him to the wall if he had +not sprung aside. He was now with his back to the stairs, and neither of +us had let go the pike. His sword-point darted at me a second time, but +I avoided, and thrust in return. Not quite ready to parry, he escaped by +falling back upon the narrow stone steps. Before I could attack, he was +on his feet again, and on the second step. We still held to the pike, +which troubled me much, both as an impediment to free sword-play and as +depriving me of the use of my dagger. I suddenly fell back, trying to +jerk it from his grasp; but his grip was too firm. He jerked the pike in +turn, and I let go, thinking the unexpected release might cause him a +fall. + +He did not fall; but I pressed close with sword and dagger before he +could bring the pike to use, and he backed further up the stairs. He +caught the pike nearer the point, that he might wield it better at close +quarters; but the long handle made it an awkward weapon, by striking +against the wall, which continually curved behind him. We were sword to +sword, and against my dagger he had his pike, but the dagger was the +freer weapon for defence though not so far-reaching for attack. + +The man was very strong, but he had the shorter thrust and offered the +broader target. We continued at it, thrust and parry, give and take. All +the time he retreated up the winding staircase, which was so narrow that +we had little elbow room, and this was to his advantage as he needed +less than I. Another thing soon came to his advantage: the stairs curved +out of the light cast by the lantern below, so that he backed into +darkness, yet I was still visible to him. I cannot tell by what sense I +knew where to meet his sword-point, yet certainly my dagger rang against +it each time it would have stung me out of the dark. As for his pike, I +now kept it busy enough in meeting my own thrusts. Whether or not I was +drawn by the knowledge that the Countess was above, I continued to +attack so incessantly, and with such good reach, that my antagonist +still retreated upward. I followed him into the darkness; and then the +advantage was with me, as being slender. + +Hitherto I had offered him my full front, but now I half turned my back +to the wall, so that his blade might scarce find me at all, and that I +might stand less danger of being forced backward off my feet. Well, so +we prodded the darkness with our steel feelers in search of each other's +bodies on those narrow stairs, striking sparks from the stone walls +which our weapons were bound to meet by reason of the continual +curvature. + +At last the broad form of my adversary was suddenly thrown into faint +light by a narrow window in the wall. I staked all upon one swift +thrust. It caught him full in the belly, and ran how far up his body I +know not. With a cry he fell forward, and I was hard put to it to save +my sword and avoid going down with him. But I got myself and my sword +free, and went on up the stairs as fast as I could feel my way. + +In a few moments I heard steps coming from above, and a rough voice +shouting down, "Ho, Gaspard, did you call? What the devil's up?" It was +the other guard, who must have been asleep to have been deaf to the +clash of our weapons, but whom his comrade's death-cry had roused. I +trusted that the walls of the tower had confined that death-cry from the +chateau; fortunately, the narrow window was toward the open fields. + +I stopped where I was. When the man's steps sounded a few feet from me, +I said "Halt!" and, telling him his comrade was dead, proposed the terms +I had offered the latter. There was a moment's silence: then a clicking +sound, and finally a great flash of fiery light with a loud report, and +the smell of smoke. By good luck I had flattened myself against the wall +before speaking, and the charge whizzed past me. Thinking the man might +have another pistol in readiness, I stood still. But he turned and ran +up the stairs. I stumbled after him. + +Presently the stairway curved into light such as we had left at the +bottom. The guard ran on in the light, and finally stepped forth to a +landing no wider than the stairs; where there hung a lantern over a +three-legged stool, beyond which was a door. At sight of this my heart +bounded. + +At the very edge of the landing the man turned and faced me, pointing a +second pistol. As the wheel moved, I dropped forward. The thing missed +fire entirely, and, flinging it down with a curse, the man drew his +sword and seized a pike that stood against the wall. I charged +recklessly up the steps, bending my body to avoid the pike. It went +through my doublet, just under the left armpit. Ere he could disencumber +it I pressed forward upon the landing. I turned his sword with my +dagger, and thrust with my own sword under the pike, piercing his side. +Only wounded, he leaped back, drawing the pike from my clothes. He aimed +at me again with that weapon. In bending away from it, I fell on my +side, but instantly turned upon my back. + +The man moved to stand over me. I let go my sword, and caught the pike +in my hand as it descended. He then tried to spit me with his sword, but +I checked its point with the guard of my dagger. I thought I was near my +end. He had only to draw up his sword for another downward thrust; but +there was a sudden faltering, or hesitation, in his movements, probably +a blindness of his eyes, the effect of his wound. In that instant of his +uncertainty, I swung my dagger around and ran it through his leg. He +fell forward upon me, nearly driving the breath out of my body. My +dagger arm, extended as it had been, was fortunately free. I crooked my +elbow, embraced my adversary, and sank the dagger deep into his back. I +felt his quiver of death. + +After I had rolled his body off me, and sheathed my sword and dagger, I +took out the key and unlocked the door. Inside the vaulted room of +stone, which was lighted by a candle, stood the Countess and Mathilde. + +The Countess, beautiful in her pallor, and looking more angel than woman +in the plain robe of blue that clothed her slight figure, met me with a +face of mingled reproach, pity, and horror. Mathilde was in tears and +utterly downcast. I could see at a glance how matters stood, and ere I +had made two steps beyond the threshold, I stopped, abashed. + +"Oh, Monsieur, the blood!" cried the Countess sadly, pointing to my +doublet. + +"It is that of your two guards," I said. "I am not hurt." + +"I am glad you are not hurt. But oh, why did you put this bloodshed upon +your soul?" + +"To save you, Madame." + +"Alas, I know. It is not for me to blame you--but could you think I +would escape--leave the house of my husband--become a fugitive wife?" + +I saw how firm she was in her resolution for all her fragility of body, +and I scarce knew what to say. + +"Madame, think! He is your husband, yes,--but your persecutor. Where you +should have protection, you receive--this." I waved my hand about her +prison. "Where you should find safety, you are in mortal danger." + +"I know all that, Monsieur,--have known it from the first. But shall I +play the runaway on that account? Think what you propose--that I, a +wedded wife, shall fly from my husband's roof with a gentleman who is +not even of kin to me! Then indeed would my good name deserve to +suffer." + +"But Madame, heaven knows, as I do, that you are the truest of wives." + +"Then let me still deserve that title as my consolation, whatever I may +have to endure." + +"But to flee from such indignity as this--such slander--such peril of +death--" + +"It is for me to bear these things," she interrupted, "if he to whom I +vowed myself in marriage inflicts them upon me. If they be wrongs, it is +I who must suffer but not I who must answer to heaven for them! I may be +sinned against, but I will not sin. Though he fail in a husband's duty, +I will not fail in a wife's. Do you not understand, Monsieur, it is not +the things done to us, but the things we do, that we are accountable +for?" + +"But I can see no sin in your fleeing from the evils that beset you +here, Madame." + +"Nay, even if it were not a violation of my marriage vow, it would have +the appearance of sin, and that we are to avoid. And it would be to +throw away my one hope, that my husband's heart may yet be softened, and +his eyes opened to my innocence." + +"Alas! I trust it may turn out a true hope, Madame," said I sadly. + +"Heaven has caused such things to occur before now," she replied. "As +for you, Monsieur, I must never cease to thank you for your chivalrous +intent, as I shall thank my good Mathilde for her devotion. And I will +ever pray for you. And now, if you would make my lot easier--if you +would remove one anxiety from my heart, and give me one solace--you will +leave this chateau immediately. Save yourself, I beg. Monsieur: let +there be no more blood shed on my account, and that blood yours! +Mathilde can let you out at the postern--she knows where the key is +hidden. She tells me you have a horse at Montoire. Go, Monsieur--lose +not another moment--I implore--nay, if you will recognize me as mistress +of this house, I command." + +I bowed low. She offered me her hand: I kissed it. + +"It will not be necessary for Mathilde to come to the postern," said I. +"I know another way out of the chateau. Adieu, Madame!" It was all I +could manage to say without the breaking of my voice. I turned and left +the room, closing the door that the Countess and Mathilde might be +spared the sight of the body on the landing. I then, for a reason, took +the key, leaving the door unlocked. I groped my way down the stairs, +taking care not to trip over the body below. I crossed the court-yards +without any care for secrecy, entered the hall, and sat down upon a +bench near the door. + +When I had told the Countess I knew another way out of the chateau, I +meant only the front gateway. But I did not intend immediately to try +that way. I intended, for a purpose which had suddenly come into my +head, to wait in the hall till morning and be the first to greet the +Count when he appeared. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +MORE THAN MERE PITY + + +What I stayed to do was something the Countess herself could do, and +probably would do one way or another, if indeed mere circumstances would +not do it of themselves: though I felt that none could as I could. But +to tell the truth, even if I could not have brought myself to turn my +back on that place while she was in such unhappy plight there. + +After I had sat awhile in the hall, I went to my room, lighted a candle, +and cleansed myself and my weapons, and my clothes as well as I could, +of blood. Having put myself to rights, though the rents in my doublet +were still gaping, I went back to the bench in the hall, and passed the +rest of the night there, sleeping and awake by turns. + +At dawn I heard steps and voices in the court-yard as of early risen +dependents starting the day. Silence returned for a few minutes, and +then came the noise of hurrying feet, and of shouts. There was rapid +talk between somebody in the court-yard and somebody at an upper window. +I knew it meant that the bodies of the two guards had been discovered, +doubtless by the men who had gone to relieve them. In a short time, down +the stairs came the Count de Lavardin, his doublet still unfastened, +followed by two body-servants. He came in haste toward the front door, +but I rose and stood in his path. + +"A moment, Monsieur Count. There's no need of haste. You'll find your +prisoner safe enough." + +"What do you mean?" he asked, having stopped in sheer wonder at my +audacity. + +"Madame the Countess has not flown, though it is true her guards are +slain--I slew them. And Madame the Countess will not fly, though it is +true her prison door is unlocked--I unlocked it--with this key, which I +borrowed from you last night." + +He took the key I handed him, and stared at it in amazement. He then +thrust his hand into his doublet pocket and drew out another key, which +he held up beside the first, looking from one to the other. + +"Yes," said I, "that is a different key, which I left in place of the +right one so that you might not discover the loan too soon." + +He gazed at me with a mixture of fury and surprise, as at an antagonist +whose capacity he must have previously underrated. + +"By the horns of Satan," he exclaimed, "you are the boldest of meddling +imps." + +"I have meddled to good purpose," said I, "though my meddling has not +turned out as I planned. But it has turned out so as to bring you peace +of mind, at least in one respect." + +"What are you talking of?" + +"You see that I possessed myself of that key; that I fought my way to +the prison of the Countess; that I threw open her prison door." + +"And believe me, you shall pay for your ingenuity and daring, my brave +youth." + +"All that was but the beginning of what I was resolved and able to do. I +had prepared our way of escape from the chateau." + +"I am not sure of that." + +"You may laugh with your lips, Count, but I laugh at you in my heart. +Don't think Monsieur de Pepicot is the only man who can get out of the +Chateau de Lavardin." + +The reminder somewhat sobered the Count. + +"I had the means, too," I went on, "to fly with Madame far from this +place. We might indeed have been a half-day's ride away by this time. I +assure you it is true. Let what I have done convince you of what more I +could have done. You don't think I should have gone so far as I have, +unless I was sure of going further, do you?" + +The Count shrugged his shoulders, pretending derision, but he waited for +me. + +"And why did I not go further?" I continued. "Because the Countess would +not. Because she is the truest of wives. Because, when I opened her +door, she met me with a stern rebuke for supposing her capable of flying +from your roof. Ah, Monsieur, it would have set your mind at rest, if +you had heard her. She bows to your will, though it may crush her, +because you are her husband. Never was such pious fidelity to marriage +vows. Her only hope is that your mind may be cleared of its false doubts +of her." + +The Count looked impressed. He had become thoughtful, and a kind of +grateful ease seemed to show itself upon his brow. I was pleasing myself +with the belief that I had thus, in an unexpected way, convinced him of +the Countess's virtue, when a voice at my side broke in upon my +satisfaction. I had so closely kept my attention upon the Count that I +had not observed Captain Ferragant come down the stairs. It was he that +now spoke, in his cool, quiet, scoffing tone: + +"Perhaps the Countess had less faith in this gentleman's power to convey +her safely away than he seems to have had himself. Perhaps she saw a +less promising future for a renegade wife than he could picture to her. +Perhaps she, too, perceived the value of her refusal to run away, as +evidence of virtue in the eyes of a credulous husband." + +The Count's forehead clouded again. I turned indignantly upon the +Captain, but addressed my words to the Count, saying: + +"Monsieur, you will pardon me, but it seems to a stranger that you allow +this gentleman great liberties of speech. Men of honour do not, as a +rule, even permit their friends to defame their wives." + +"This gentleman is in my confidence," said the Count, his grey face +reddening for a moment. "It is you, a stranger as you say, who have +taken great liberties in speaking of my domestic affairs. But you shall +pay for them, young gentleman. Your youth makes your presumption all the +greater, and shall not make your punishment the less. I will trouble +you, Captain, to see that he stays here till I return." + +At this the Count, motioning his attendants to follow, who had stood out +of earshot of our lowered voices, passed on to the court-yard, and +thence, of course, to the prison of the Countess. + +The Captain stood looking at me with that expression of antipathy and +ridicule which I always found it so hard to brook. I had some thought of +defying the Count's last words and walking away to see what the Captain +would do. But I reflected that this course must end in my taking down, +unless I made good a sudden flight from the chateau by the gate; and if +I made that I should be fleeing from the Countess. So the best thing was +to be submissive, and not bring matters, as between the Count and me, to +a crisis. Perhaps a way to help the Countess might yet occur, if I +stayed upon the scene to avail myself of it. And in any case by +continuing there in as much freedom as the Count might choose to allow +me, I might have at least the chance of another sight of her. + +So, while we waited half an hour or so in the hall, I gave the Captain +no trouble, not even that of speech, which he disdained to take on his +own initiative. + +The Count returned, looking agitated, as if he had been in a storm of +anger which had scarce had time to subside. His glance at me was more +charged with hate and menace than ever before. He beckoned the Captain +to the other end of the hall, and there they talked for awhile in +undertones, the Count often shaking his head quickly, and taking short +walks to and fro; sometimes he clenched his fists, or breathed heavy +sighs of irritation, or darted at me a swift look of malevolence and +threat. I could only assume that something had passed between the +Countess and him during his visit to her prison--perhaps she had shown +anxiety as to whether I had fled--which had suddenly quickened and +increased his jealousy of me. + +At last the Count seemed to accept some course advised by his friend. He +came towards me, the Captain following with slower steps. In a dry +voice, well under control, the Count said to me: + +"Permit me to relieve you, Monsieur, of the burden of those weapons you +carry. I am annoyed that you should think it desirable to wear them in +my house, as if it were the road." + +Startled, I put my hands on the hilts of my sword and dagger, and took a +step backward. + +"Your annoyance is somewhat strange, Monsieur," said I, "considering +that you and the Captain wear your swords indoors as well as out. I +thought it was the custom of this house." + +"If so," replied the Count, with his ghastly smile, "it is a custom that +a guest forfeits the benefit of by killing two of my dependents. Come, +young gentleman. Don't be so rude as to make me ask twice." + +The Captain now stepped forward more briskly, his hand on his own sword. +Taking his motion as a threatening one, and scarce knowing what to do, I +drew my weapons upon impulse and presented, not the handles, but the +points. But ere I could think, the Captain's long rapier flashed out, it +moved so swiftly I could not see it, and my own sword was torn from my +grip and sent whirring across the hall. In the next instant, the guard +of the Captain's sword was locked against the guard of my dagger, and +his left hand gripped my wrist. It was such a trick as a fencing master +might have played on a new pupil, or as I had heard attributed to my +father but had never seen him perform. It showed me what a swordsman +that red Captain was, and how much I had yet to learn ere I dared +venture against such an adversary. And there was his bold red-splashed +face close to mine, smiling in derision of my surprise and discomfiture. +He was beginning to exert his strength upon my wrist--that strength +which had choked and flung away the great hound. To save my arm, I let +go my dagger. The Captain put his foot on it till an attendant, whom the +Count had summoned, stooped for it. My sword was picked up by another +man, whereupon, at the Count's command, it was hung upon a peg in the +wall, and the dagger attached to the handle of the sword. The two men +were then ordered to guard me, one at each side. They were burly +fellows, armed with daggers. + +"Well, Monsieur, what next?" said I in as scornful a tone as I could +command. + +"Patience, Monsieur; you will see." + +There was a low, narrow door in the side of the hall, near the front. At +the Count's bidding, an attendant opened this, and I was marched into a +very small, bare room, the ceiling of which was scarce higher than my +head. This apartment had evidently been designed as a doorkeeper's box. +It's only furniture was a bench. A mere eyehole of a window in the +corner looked upon the court-yard. + +"Remember," I called back to the Count, "you cannot put injuries upon me +with impunity. An account will be exacted in due time." + +"Remember, you," he replied with a laugh, "that you have murdered two +men here, and are subject to my sentence." + +My guards left me in the room, and stationed themselves outside the +door, which was then closed upon me. There was no lock to the door, but +it was possible to fasten the latch on the outside, and this was done, +as I presently discovered by trial. + +I sat on the bench, and gazed out upon as much of the court-yard as the +window showed. Suddenly the window was darkened by something placed +against it outside,--a man's doublet propped up by a pike, or some such +device. I could not guess why they should cut off my light, unless as a +mere addition to the tediousness of my restraint. I disdained to show +annoyance, though I might have thrust my arm through the window and +displaced the obstruction. Later I saw the reason: it was to prevent my +seeing who passed through the court-yard. + +It seemed an hour until suddenly my door was flung open. In the doorway +appeared the Captain, beckoning me to come forth. I did so. + +Half-way up the hall, a little at one side, stood the Count. Near him, +and looking straight toward me, sat the Countess in a great arm-chair. +Besides the Captain and myself, those two were the only persons in the +hall. Even my guards had disappeared, and all doors leading from the +hall were shut. + +The Countess, as I have said, was looking straight toward me. Her eyes +had followed the Captain to my door, she wondering what was to come out +of it. For assuredly she had not expected me to come out of it. She had +still trusted that I had gone away in the night--the Count had not told +her otherwise. Her surprise at seeing me was manifest in her startled +look, which was followed by a low cry of compassionate regret. + +The Count had been watching her with a painful intentness. He had not +even turned his eyes to see me enter, having trusted to his ears to +apprise him. At her display of concern, the skin of his face tightened; +though that display was no more than any compassionate lady might have +given in a similar case. Even the Count, after a moment, appeared to +think more reasonably of her demeanour. + +I bowed to her, and stood waiting for what might follow, the Captain +near me. + +The Count, turning toward me for an instant to show it was I he +addressed, but fixing his gaze again upon his wife and keeping it there +while he continued speaking to me, delivered himself thus, with mocking +irony: + +"Monsieur, I will not be so trifling or so churlish as to keep you in +doubt regarding your fate. In this chateau, where the right of doom lies +in me, you have been, by plain evidence and your own confession, guilty +of the murder of two men. As to what other and worse crimes you have +intended, I say nothing. What you have done is already too much. There +is only one sufficient punishment. You may thank me for granting you +time of preparation. I will give you two days--a liberal allowance, you +will admit--during which you shall be lodged in a secure place, where in +solitude and quiet you may put yourself in readiness for death." + +The Countess rose with a cry, "No, no!" Her face and voice were charged +with something so much more than mere compassion, that I forgot my doom +in a wild sweet exultation. At what he perceived, the Count uttered a +fierce, dismayed ejaculation. The Captain looked at once triumphant and +resentful. + +"It is enough!" cried the Count hoarsely. "The truth is clear!" + +He motioned me away, and the Captain pushed me back into the little +room, quickly fastening the door. But my feeling was still one of +ecstasy rather than horror, for still I saw the Countess's tender eyes +in grief for me, still saw her arms reaching out toward me, still heard +her voice full of wild protest at my sentence. It was to surprise her +real feelings that she had been brought to hear, in my presence, my doom +pronounced; and my window had been obstructed that our confrontation +might be as sudden to me as to her, lest by a prepared look I might put +her on her guard. This it was that the Captain had suggested, and +excellently it had served. That moment's revelation of her heart, though +it brought such sweetness into my soul, could only make her fate worse +and my sentence irrevocable. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE RAT-HOLE AND THE WATER-JUG + + +I had not been back in the little room a minute, when it occurred to me +to reach through the window and displace the obstruction. I was in time +to see the Countess escorted back across the court-yard by her husband. +This could mean only that she was again to occupy her prison in the +tower. I was glad at least to know where she was, that I might imagine +her in her surroundings, of which I had obtained so brief a glimpse. + +Presently my door opened slightly, that my breakfast might be passed in +on a trencher; and again an hour later, that the trencher might be taken +out. Soon after that, the door was thrown wide, and a man of some +authority, whom I had already taken to be the seneschal of the chateau, +courteously requested me to step forth. When I did so, he told me my +lodging was ready and bade me follow. At my elbows were two powerful +armed servitors of this strange half-military household, to escort me. + +I had a moment's hope that I might be taken to some chamber in the great +tower; I should thus be nearer the Countess. But such was not the +Count's will. I was conducted to the hall staircase, and up two flights, +thence along the corridor past my former sleeping chamber, and finally +by a small stairway to a sort of loft at that very corner of the chateau +against which the great tower was built. + +It was a small chamber with one window and an unceiled roof that sloped +very low at the sides. I suppose it had been used as a store-room for +rubbish. Two worm-eaten chests were its only furniture. On one of these +were a basin, a jug of water, and a towel. On the other were a blanket, +a sheet, and a pillow. Here then were my bed and wash-stand. There was +still space left on the first chest to serve me as dining-table. + +Before I could find anything to say upon these meagre accommodations for +a gentleman's last lodging in this world, the seneschal bade me +good-day, the door was closed and locked, and I was left to my +reflections. The room not having been designed as a prison, there was no +grilled opening in the door, and I was not exposed to the guard's view. + +The Count might have kept me in my former chamber, thought I, the time +being so short. Perhaps he feared my making a rope of bed clothes and +dropping to the terrace. As for the little room off the hall, it had no +real lock, and the guards might become sleepy at night. But why did he +make this respite of two days? Was it to give himself time for devising +some peculiarly humiliating and atrocious form of death? Or was it mere +ironical pretence of mercy in his justice, and might I be surprised with +the fatal summons as soon as he was in the humour for it? To this day, I +do not clearly know,--or whether he had other matters for his immediate +care; or indeed whether, at the instant of pronouncing my sentence in +order to discover the Countess's feelings, he actually intended carrying +it out. + +In any case, now that her heart had betrayed itself, I had little hope +of mercy. What came nearest to daunting me was the thought that, if I +died, my people might never know for certain what had been my fate, for +the Count would probably keep my death a secret, his own dependents +being silenced by interest and fear. Yet I felt I had no right to +complain of Fate. I had come from home to see danger, and here it was, +though my present adventure was something different from cutting off the +moustaches of Brignan de Brignan. And still my emotions were sweetened +by the sense of what the Countess had disclosed, fatal though that +disclosure might be to her also. + +Such were the materials of my thoughts for the first hour or so, while I +sat on the chest that was to be my bed. But suddenly there came a +sharper consciousness of what death meant, and how closely it threatened +me. I sprang up, to bestir myself in seeking if there might be some +means of escape. The situation had changed since I had willingly +lingered at the chateau in order to be near the Countess. The reluctance +to betake myself from the place where she was, had not diminished; but I +had awakened to the knowledge that my only hope of ever seeing her again +lay in present flight, if that were possible. I could serve her better +living than dead, better free than a prisoner. + +I went to the window, which was wide enough for me to put my head out. +My room was at the top of the building, and only the great tower, partly +visible at my right, rose higher toward the sky. Below me was a narrow +paved space between the house and the outer wall: it ran from the base +of the tower at my right, to the garden, far at the left. Beyond the +wall was the moat: beyond that, the country toward Montoire. If I could +let myself down to the earth by any means, I should still be on the +wrong side of the wall. But I might find the postern key, buried under +the rose bush near the postern itself. + +I looked around the room, but there was nothing that would serve as a +means of descent, except the bedding on the larger chest. This I +examined: it was the scantiest, being merely a strip of blanket and a +strip of sheet, together just sufficient to cover the top of the chest. +With the pillow cover and towel, they would not reach half-way to the +ground. + +Perhaps the chests might contain old clothes, or other materials that +would serve to eke out. I tried the lids, but both were strongly locked. +The larger chest looked very ancient and rotten: its hinges might be +loose. I pulled one end of it out from against the wall, to examine the +back. The hinges were immovable. Despondent, I ran my hand further down +the back at random, and, to my surprise, felt a small irregular hole, +through which I could thrust two fingers. It was evidently a rat hole, +for I saw now that when close to the wall, it must have corresponded to +a chink between the stones thereof. + +My fingers inside the chest came in contact with nothing but rat-bitten +papers, to my sad disappointment. But, having gone so far, I was moved +to continue until I had patiently twisted a few documents out through +the hole. I straightened and glanced at them. The edges were fretted by +the rats. One writing was an account of moneys expended for various +wines; another was a list of remedies for the diseases of horses; but +the third, when I caught its meaning and saw the name signed at the end, +made my heart jump. It was the last page of a letter, and ran thus: + + "One thing is certain, by our careful exclusion of fools and + weaklings, our plot is less liable to premature discovery than any + of those which have hitherto been attempted, and, as you say, if we + fail we have but to lock ourselves up in our chateaux till all + blows over, the K. being so busy at present with the Dutch. In that + event, my dear Count, the Chateau de Lavardin is a residence that + some of the rest of us will envy you. Your servant ever, + + "COLLOT D'ARNIOL." + +The name was that of the chief mover of the late conspiracy, who had +paid the penalty of his treason without betraying his accomplices. If +this was indeed his signature, with which the authorities were certainly +acquainted, the scrap of paper, were I free to carry it to Paris, would +put the life of the Count de Lavardin in my hands. + +To be possessed of such a weapon--such a means of rescuing the Countess +from her fearful situation--and yet lack freedom wherein to use it, was +too vexing for endurance. I resolved, rather than wait inactively for +death with that weapon useless, to employ the most reckless means of +escape. Meanwhile I pocketed the fragment of letter, and thrust the +other papers back into the chest, which I then pushed to its former +place. + +After thinking awhile, I poured the water from the heavy earthen jug +into the basin. I then sat down on the large chest, leaning forward, +elbows upon knees, my head upon my hands, the empty jug beside me as if +I had lazily left it there after drinking from it. In this attitude I +waited through a great part of the afternoon, until I began to wonder if +the Count was not going to send me any more food that day. + +At last, when the sun was low, I heard my lock turned, the door opened +into the room, and one of my new guards entered with a trencher of bread +and cold meat. With the corner of my eye, I saw that nobody was +immediately outside my door; so I assumed that my other guard, if there +were still two, was stationed at the foot of the short flight of stairs +leading to my room. The man with the food, having cast a look at me as I +sat in my listless attitude, passed me in order to put the trencher on +the other chest, which was further from the door. + +The instant his back was toward me, I silently grasped the earthen jug, +sprang after him, and brought the jug down upon the back of his head +with all my strength while he was leaning forward to place the trencher. +He staggered forward. I gave him a second blow, and he sprawled upon the +chest, which stopped his fall. + +I ran to the open door, pushed it almost shut, and waited behind it, the +jug raised in both hands. My blows and the guard's fall had not been +without noise. + +"Hola! what's that?" cried somebody outside and a little below. I gave +no answer, and presently I heard steps rapidly mounting to my door. Then +the door was lightly pushed, but I stopped it; whereupon the head of my +other guard was thrust in through the narrow opening. Down came my jug, +and the man dropped to his hands and knees, in the very act of drawing +his weapons. I struck him again, laying him prostrate. Then I dragged +him into the room, and tried to wrest his dagger from his grasp. Finding +this difficult, I ran back to the first guard, took his dagger from its +sheath as he was beginning to come to, wielded my jug once more to delay +his awakening, and, stepping over the second man's body, passed out of +the room. The man with the trencher had left the key in the lock. I +closed the door and turned the key, which I put in my pocket. I then +hastened down the stairs, fled along the deserted passage, descended the +main stairway to the story below, traversed without a moment's pause the +rooms leading to the picture gallery, crossed that and found the door at +the end unlocked, ran down the stairs of the Countess's former +apartments, unlocked the door to the garden, and sped along the walk +toward the postern. In all this, I had not seen a soul: I was carried +forward by a bracing resolve to accomplish my escape or die in +attempting it, as well as by an inspiriting faith in the saying of the +Latin poet that fortune favours the bold, and by a feeling that for me +everything depended on one swift, uninterrupted flight. + +I gained the postern; fell on my knees by the nearest rose bush, and, +choosing a spot where the soil swelled a little, dug rapidly with the +dagger, throwing the earth aside with my hand. In my impatience, much +time seemed to go: I feared that here at last I was stayed: great drops +fell from my brow upon my busy hands: I trembled and could have wept for +vexation. But suddenly my dagger struck something hard, and in a moment +I grasped the key. It opened the lock. I stood upon the ledge outside, +and re-locked the door; then dashed across the plank over the moat, and +made for the forest. + +I had no time to spare. My guards might be already returned to +consciousness and doing their best to alarm the house from within their +prison. Bloodhounds might soon be on my track. I ran along the edge of +the forest, therefore, which covered my movements till I was past the +village of St. Outrille, close to Montoire. I then altered my pace to a +walk, lest a running figure in the fields might attract the notice of +the Count's watchman on the tower; and, going in the lurching manner of +a rustic, came to a road by which I crossed the river and gained the +town. I entered the inn, sought the host, and called for my bill, +baggage, and horse. + +The innkeeper did not recognize me at first, and, when he did, showed +great wonder and curiosity at my absence. He was inclined to be +friendly, though, and, when he perceived I was in haste, did not delay +my departure with inquisitive talk. I saw that my horse had been +properly cared for in my absence, and was glad to be on its back again, +the more because I should thus leave no further scent for bloodhounds to +follow. + +I rode out of the archway and turned my horse toward the road for Les +Roches and Paris. As I crossed the square, I could not help glancing +over my right shoulder toward the Lavardin road. In doing so, I happened +to see a young man coming out of the church, whose face I knew. I +thought a moment, then reined my horse around to intercept him, and, as +he was about to pass, said in a low voice: + +"Good evening, Hugues." + +He stopped in surprise, recalling my features but not my identity. I +leaned over my horse's neck, and spoke in an undertone: + +"You will remember I met you on your way back from Sablé, whither you +had carried a certain lady's message. I have since heard of you from +that lady. She is in a most unhappy plight, and so is her maid +Mathilde." + +The young miller turned pale at this. + +"I have just escaped from the chateau," I continued, "where the Count +meant to kill me. I am going as fast as possible to Paris, where I can +use means to render him powerless. But that will take time, and +meanwhile the worst may befall the Countess--and no doubt her faithful +Mathilde also. They are imprisoned in the tower. I thank God I have met +you, for now there is one friend here to whose solicitude I may leave +that unfortunate lady and her devoted maid while I am away." + +"Monsieur," said he, with deep feeling, "I know no reason why you should +play a trick on me, and you don't look as if you were doing so. I will +trust you, therefore. But can you not come to my house, where we can +talk fully?" + +"Where is your house?" + +"About a quarter of a league down that road." He pointed toward the road +that ran northward from the square, as my road ran northeastward. "When +you are ready to go on, you can get the Paris road by a lane, without +coming back to the town." + +There were good reasons against my losing any time before starting for +Paris. But it was well, on the other hand, for Hugues to know exactly +how matters stood at the chateau. I put my reasons hastily to him, and +he said he could promise me a safe hiding-place at his mill. And I could +travel the faster in the end for a rest now, which I looked as if I +needed,--in truth, I had slept little and badly in the hall the previous +night, and the day's business had told upon me. So, perhaps most because +it was pleasant to be with a trusty companion who shared my cause of +anxiety, I agreed to go to his house for supper, and to set out after +night-fall. + +"Good!" said Hugues. "Then you had best ride ahead, Monsieur, so we are +not seen together. You can leave me now as if you had been merely asking +your way. If you ride slowly when you are out of the town, I shall catch +up." + +I did as he suggested, and he soon overtook me on the road. His house +proved to be a cottage of good size built against a mill, with a small +barn at one side of the yard and a stable at the other. When I had +dismounted at his door, we unsaddled and unbridled my horse, so that it +might pass for a new horse of his own if pursuers looked into his +stable. He then called his boy and his woman-servant, and told them what +to say if anybody came inquiring. We carried my saddle, bridle, and +portmanteau through the cottage to the mill, and thence to a small +cellar which was reached by means of a well-concealed trap-door in the +mill-floor. This cellar should be my refuge in case the Count's men came +there seeking me. + +"I made this hiding-place," said Hugues, moving his candle about to show +how well floored and walled it was, "because one could never say when +Mathilde, living in that fearful chateau, might want a place to fly to. +She would not leave her mistress, you know, though the Countess's other +women went gladly enough when the Count sent them off. Nobody knows +there is anything between Mathilde and me, Monsieur,--except the +Countess. It is safer so. We have been waiting for the Count to die, so +that all might be well with the Countess, for Mathilde could marry me +then with easy mind." + +"I hope that God will send that time soon," said I. + +"But meanwhile, this present danger?" said Hugues. + +We returned to the living-room of the cottage, and talked of the matter +while we had supper. I told Hugues everything, misrepresenting only so +far as to make it appear that the Count's jealousy was still entirely +unfounded, and that he had mistaken the Countess's feelings at our +confrontation. Whatever Hugues may have thought upon this last point, he +made no comment thereon; but he showed the liveliest sense of the +increased danger in which the Countess stood. He feared that my escape +would make her position still worse, and that her hours might be already +numbered. He considered there was not time for me to go to Paris and +return: the Countess's rescue ought to be attempted promptly, or the +attempt would be too late. + +In all this, he but echoed the feeling that had come back to me with +double force while I told him the situation. But there was the +Countess's determination not to flee. Hugues said that as this +determination must be overcome for the Countess's own sake, any pressure +that could be brought to bear upon her feelings would be justifiable. +Let it be urged upon her that if she persisted in waiting for death, +Mathilde's life also would doubtless be sacrificed; let every argument, +every persuasion be employed; let me beseech, let me reproach, let me +even use imperative means if need be. Suddenly, as he talked, I saw a +way by which I thought she might be moved. It was one chance, but enough +to commit me to the effort. + +The question now was, how to communicate with the Countess, and to +accomplish the rescue. This Hugues and I settled ere we went to bed. I +slept that night in the mill, by the trap-door. Hugues lay awake, +listening for any alarm. None came, and in the morning we agreed that +either the Count had elected not to seek me at all, or had traced me to +the inn, and, learning I had taken horse, supposed I was far out of the +neighbourhood. I stayed indoors all that day, while Hugues was absent in +furtherance of our project, the woman and boy being under strict orders +as to their conduct in the event of inquiries. In the evening Hugues +returned with various acquisitions, among them being a sword for me, and +a long rope ladder, both obtained at Troo. + +We awaited the fall of night, then set out. I upon my horse, Hugues +riding one of his and leading the other. We went by obscure lanes, +crossed the river, gained the forest, and lingered in its shades till +the church clock of Montoire struck eleven. We then proceeded through +the forest, near the edge, till we were behind the Chateau de Lavardin. + +Besides the rope-ladder, we had with us a cross-bow that Hugues owned, a +long slender cord, and a paper on which I had written some brief +instructions during the afternoon. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +THE ROPE LADDER + + +The night was starlit, though the moon would come later. We hoped to be +away from the chateau before it rose. There was a gentle breeze, which +we rather welcomed as likely to cover what little noise we might make. + +Leaving our horses tied in the forest, and taking the cross-bow and +other things, we stole along the moat skirting the Western wall, till we +were opposite the great tower. It rose toward the sky, sheer from the +black water that separated us from it by so few yards. We gazed upward, +and I pointed out the window which I thought, from its situation, must +be that of the Countess, if she still occupied her former prison. + +Our first plan depended upon her still occupying that prison, or some +other with an unbarred window in that side of the tower; and upon her +being still accompanied by Mathilde. + +If the man on top of the tower were to look down now, thought I! We had +considered that chance. It was not likely he would come to the edge of +the tower and look straight down. His business apparently was to watch +the road at a distance and in both directions. He could do this best +from the Northeastern part of the tower. From what I knew now, I could +guess why the Count had stationed him there: a conspirator never knows +when he is safe from belated detection and a visit of royal guards. This +accounted also, perhaps as much as the Count's jealousy, for his +inhospitality to strangers, and for the half-military character of his +household. + +Hugues uttered a bird-call, which had been one of his signals to +Mathilde in their meetings. We waited, looking up and wishing the night +were blacker. He repeated the cry. + +Something faintly whitish appeared in the dark slit which I had taken to +be the Countess's window. It was a face. + +"Mathilde," whispered Hugues to me. + +Keeping his gaze upon her, he held up the cross-bow for her notice; then +the bolt, to which we had attached the slender cord. Next, before +adjusting the bolt, he aimed the unbent bow at her window: this was to +indicate what he was about to do. Then he lowered the bow, and looked at +her without further motion, awaiting some sign of understanding from +her. She nodded her head emphatically, and drew it in. + +Hugues fitted the string and the bolt, raised the bow, and stood +motionless for I know not how many seconds; at last the string twanged; +the bolt sang through the air. It did not fall, nor strike stone, and +the cord remained suspended from above: the bolt had gone through the +window. + +"Good!" I whispered in elation; and truly Hugues deserved praise, for he +had had to allow both for the wind and for the cord fastened to the +bolt. + +The cord was soon pulled upward. Our end of it was tied to the rope +ladder, which Hugues unfolded as it continued to be drawn up by +Mathilde. At the junction of cord and ladder was fixed the paper with +instructions. Mathilde could not overlook this nor mistake its purpose. +When the ladder was nearly all in the air, its movement ceased. We knew +then that Mathilde had the other end of it. Presently the window became +faintly alight. + +"They have lighted a candle, to read the note," I whispered. + +Hugues kept a careful hold upon our end of the ladder, to which there +was fastened another cord, shorter and stronger than the first. My note +gave instructions to attach the ladder securely to a bed, or some other +suitable object, which, if movable, should then be placed close to the +window, but not so as to impede my entrance. It announced my intention +of visiting the Countess for a purpose of supreme importance to us both. +When the ladder was adjusted, a handkerchief should be waved up and down +in the window. + +"The Countess surely will not refuse to let me come and say what I have +to," I whispered, to reassure myself after we had waited some time. + +"Surely not, Monsieur. She does not know yet what it is," replied +Hugues. + +At that moment the handkerchief waved in the window. + +Hugues drew the ladder taut and braced himself. I grasped one of the +rounds, found a lower one with my foot, and began to mount. The ladder +formed, of course, an incline over the moat. When I had ascended some +way, Hugues, as we had agreed, allowed the ladder to swing gradually +across the moat and hang against the tower, he retaining hold of the +cord by which to draw the lower end back at the fit time. I now climbed +perpendicularly, close to the tower. It was a laborious business, +requiring great patience. Once I ran my eyes up along the tall tower and +saw the stars in the sky; once I looked down and saw them reflected in +the moat: but as these diversions made my task appear the longer, and +had a qualmish effect upon me, I thereafter studied only each immediate +round of the ladder as I came to it. As I got higher, I felt the wind +more; but it only refreshed me. Toward the end I had some misgiving lest +the ladder should lie too tight against the bottom of the window for me +to grasp the last rounds. But this fear proved groundless. Mathilde had +placed a pillow at the outer edge of the sill, for the ladder to run +over; and I had no sooner thrust my hand into the window than it was +caught in a firm grasp and guided to the proper round. Another step +brought my head above the sill: at the next, I had two arms inside the +long, shaft-like opening; my body followed, as Mathilde's receded. I +crawled through; lowered myself, hands and knees, to the couch beneath; +leaped to the floor, and kneeling before the Countess, kissed her hand. + +She was standing, and her dress was the same blue robe in which I had +seen her in the same room two nights before. The candle was on a small +table, which held also an illuminated book and an image of the Virgin, +and above which a crucifix hung against the wall. Besides the bed at the +window, there were another bed, a trunk, a chair, and a three-legged +stool. + +The Countess's face was all anxiety and question. + +"Thank God you are still safe!" said I. + +"And you!" she replied. "Brigitte told us you had escaped. I had prayed +your life might be saved. But now you put yourself in peril again. I had +hoped you were far away. Oh, Monsieur, what is it brings you back to +this house of danger?" + +"My going has surely made it a house of greater danger to you. It is a +marvel the Count has not already taken revenge upon you for my escape. I +thank God I am here while you still live." + +"My life is in God's hands. Was it to say this that you have risked +yours again, Monsieur? Oh, your coming here but adds to my sorrow." + +"Hear what sorrow you will cause, Madame, if you refuse to be saved +while there is yet time. I ask you to consider others. Below, waiting +for us, is Hugues, who has enabled me to come here to-night. You know +how that good brave fellow loves Mathilde. And you know that if you die, +Mathilde will share your fate, for the Count will wish to give his own +story of your death." + +"But Mathilde must not stay to share my fate. She must go away with you +now, while there is opportunity." + +"I will not stir from your side, Madame,--they will have to tear me away +when they come to kill you," said Mathilde, and then to me, "They have +not sent Madame any food to-day. I think the plan is to starve us." + +"Horrible!" I said. "That, no doubt, is because of my escape. But who +knows when the Count, in one of the rages caused by his fancies, may +turn to some method still more fearful. Madame, how can you endure this? +Why, it is to encourage his crime, when you might escape!" + +"Monsieur, you cannot tempt me with sophistries. What God permits--" + +"Has not God permitted me to come here, with the means of escape? Avail +yourself of them--see if God will not permit that." + +"We know that God permits sin, Monsieur, for his own good reasons. It is +for us to see that we are not they to whom it is permitted." + +"But can you think it a sin to save yourself?" + +"It is always a sin to break vows, Monsieur. And now--to go with you, of +all men--would be doubly a sin." She had lowered her voice, and she +lowered her eyes, too, and drew slightly back from me. + +"Then go with Hugues, Madame," said I, my own voice softened almost to a +whisper. "Only let me follow at a little distance to see that you are +safe. And when you are safe, finally and surely, I will go away, and we +shall be as strangers." + +Tears were in her eyes. But she answered: + +"No, Monsieur; I should still be a truant wife--still a breaker of vows +made to the Church and heaven." + +"Then you would rather die, and have poor Mathilde die after +you--Mathilde, who has no such scruples?" + +"Mathilde must go away with you to-night. I command her--she will not +disobey what may be the last orders I shall ever give her." + +"Madame, I have never disobeyed yet, but I will disobey this time. I +will not leave you." So said Mathilde, with quiet firmness. + +"Ah, Mathilde, it is unkind, unfair! You will save yourself for Hugues's +sake." + +"I will save myself when you save yourself, Madame; not before." + +The Countess sank upon the chair, and turning to the Virgin's image, +said despairingly: + +"Oh, Mother of heaven, save this child from her own fidelity!" + +"It is not Mathilde alone that you doom," I now said, thinking it time +to try my last means. "It is not only that you will darken the life of +poor Hugues. There is another who will not leave Lavardin if you will +not: one who will stay near, sharing your danger; and who, if you die, +will seek his own death in avenging you." + +"Oh, no, Monsieur!" she entreated. "I was so glad to learn you had +escaped. Do not rob me of that consolation. Do not stay at Lavardin. +Live!--live and be happy, for my sake. So brave--so tender--the world +needs you; and you must not die for me--I forbid you!" + +"You will find me as immovable as Mathilde," said I. + +She looked from one to the other of us, and put forth her hands +pleadingly; then broke down into weeping. + +"Oh, will you make my duty the harder?" she said. "God knows I would +gladly die to save you." + +"It is not dying that will save us. The only way is to save yourself." + +"Monsieur, you shall not drive me to sin by your temptations! Heaven +will save you both in spite of yourselves. That will be my reward for +putting this sin from me." + +"You persist in calling it a sin, Madame: very well. But is it not +selfish to go free from sin at the expense of others? If one can save +others by a sin of one's own, is it not nobler to take that sin upon +one's soul? Nay, is it not the greater sin to let others suffer, that +one's own hands may be clean?" + +"Oh, you tempt me with worldly reasoning, Monsieur. Kind mother of +Christ," she said, fixing her eyes upon the image of Mary, "what shall I +do? Be thou my guide--speak to my soul--tell me what to do!" + +After a moment, the Countess again turned to me, still perplexed, +agitated, unpersuaded. + +"Madame," said I, "when one considers how soon the Count de Lavardin +must surely suffer for crimes of which you know nothing, your death at +his hands seems the more grievous a fate. Do you know that he is a +traitor?--that his treason will soon be known to the King's ministers? +If his jealousy had only waited a short while, or if my discovery had +occurred a little earlier, his death would have spared you all this. But +now, if you are not starved or slain before he is arrested, he will +surely kill you when he finds himself about to be taken.--My God, I had +not thought of that when I resolved to go to Paris at once! Oh, Madame, +fly now while there is chance! I assure you that doom is hovering over +the Count's head; if you stay here, I cannot go to Paris; but Hugues +shall go with this paper in my stead." + +"What is the paper, Monsieur? What do you mean by this talk of the Count +and treason?" she asked in sheer wonder. + +"It is a proof of the Count's participation in the late conspiracy. I +found it in the room where I was imprisoned. And come what may, I will +see that it goes to Paris for the inspection of the Duke de Sully. And +then there will be a short shrift for the Count de Lavardin, I promise +you." + +"But in that case, it would be you that caused his death, Monsieur!" she +exclaimed. + +"The executioner would cause his death--and the law. I should be but the +humble instrument of heaven to bring it to pass." + +"But you would be the instrument of my husband's death, Monsieur! That +must not be. You, of all men! No, no. Why, it would be an eternal +barrier between us--in thought and kind feeling, I mean,--in the next +world too. Oh, no; you must not use that paper, nor cause it to be +used." + +"But, Madame, he is a traitor. What matters it whether I or another--it +is only justice--my duty to the King." + +"But you do not understand. I should not dare even pray for you! And I +must not let you denounce him--I must prevent your using that paper. I +am his wife, Monsieur,--I must prevent. Otherwise, I should be +consenting to my husband's death!" + +"He has no scruples about consenting to yours, Madame." + +"The sin is on his part, then, not on mine. Come, Monsieur, you must let +me destroy that paper." She advanced toward me. + +"No, Madame; not I. Nay, I will use force to keep it, if need be! It is +my one weapon, my one means of vengeance." I tore my wrist from her +hand, and put the paper back into my inner pocket. + +"Then, Monsieur, I have said my last to you. I must put you out of my +thoughts, out of my prayers even. And if I find means, I must warn my +husband." + +"Listen, Madame. There is one condition upon which I will destroy this +paper and keep silence." + +She uttered a joyful cry. I knew that what she thought of was not her +husband's fate, but the barrier she had mentioned. + +"It is that you will escape with me at once," I said. + +The joy passed out of her face; but she was silent. + +"Consider," I went on. "Not merely your own life, not merely mine, not +merely Mathilde's, and the happiness of Hugues: it is in your power to +save your husband's life also, and to save his soul from the crime of +your murder, if there be any degree between act and intent. Is it not a +sin and a folly to refuse? Think of the blood already shed by reason of +this matter. Why should there be more?" + +At last she wavered. I turned to Mathilde, to speak of the order in +which we should descend the ladder. + +At that instant I heard the key begin to grate in the lock. + +"Some one is coming in!" whispered the Countess in alarm. + +Instantly I pushed Mathilde upon the couch beneath the window, in a +sitting posture, so that her body would conceal the end of the rope +ladder. The next moment I had pulled the other bed a little way out from +the wall, and was crouching behind it. + +The door opened, and I heard the noise of men entering with heavy tread. +Then the door closed. There was a sound of swift movement, then a scream +from Mathilde and a terrified cry from the Countess, both voices being +suddenly silenced at their height. I raised my head, and saw two +powerful men in black masks, one of whom was grasping the Countess by +the throat with his left hand while, with his right assisted by his +teeth, he was endeavouring to pass a looped cord around her neck. The +other man had both hands about the neck of Mathilde, that he might +sufficiently overpower her to apply a similar cord. + +I leaped over the bed, and upon the man who was trying to strangle the +Countess. Mad to save and avenge her, I sank my dagger into the back of +his shoulder, and he fell without having seen who had attacked him. The +murderer who was struggling with Mathilde immediately turned from her +and drew sword to attack me, at the same time crying out, "Garoche, to +the rescue!" + +[Illustration: "I LEAPED OVER THE BED, AND UPON THE MAN WHO WAS TRYING +TO STRANGLE THE COUNTESS."] + +As I could not get the dagger out of the other man's shoulder joint in +time, I drew my sword, and parried my new antagonist's thrust. The door +now opened, and in came another man with drawn sword, not masked: he +was, I suppose, the man on guard on the landing. Seeing how matters +stood, he joined in the attack upon me. I backed into a corner, knocking +over the chair of the Countess, who had run to Mathilde. The two women +stood clasping each other, in terror. Suddenly my first assailant cried, +"I leave him to you for a moment, Garoche," and ran and transferred the +key from the outside to the inside of the door, which he then closed, so +as to lock us all in. This was doubtless to prevent the exit of the +Countess and Mathilde, the purpose being to keep the night's doings in +that room as secret as possible even from the rest of the household. +This man then pocketed the key, and, while Garoche continued to keep me +occupied in my corner, ran to a side of the cell and began working with +an iron wedge at a stone in the floor. He soon raised this, showing it +to be a thin slab, and left exposed a dark hole. He then turned to the +Countess, seized her around the waist, and tried to drag her toward the +opening. His instructions had been, no doubt, to slay the women without +bloodshed and drop the bodies through this secret aperture, but the +unexpected turn of affairs had made him decide to precipitate the end +and not strangle them first. Wild with horror at the prospect of their +meeting so hideous a death, I sprang into the air, and ran my sword +straight into the panting mouth of Garoche, so that the point came out +at the back of his neck. He dropped, and I disengaged my weapon barely +in time to check the onslaught of the other man, who, seeing Garoche's +fate, had left the Countess and come at me again. I was out of breath +after the violent thrusts I had made, and a mist now clouded my eyes. I +know not how this last contest would have gone, had not Mathilde, +recovering her self-command, drawn the sword of the man who had fallen +first, and, holding it with both hands, pushed it with all her strength +into my adversary's back. + +I wiped my weapons on the clothes of the slain murderers. The Countess +fell on her knees and thanked heaven for our preservation. I then went +to the opening made by the removal of the stone slab: peering down, I +could see nothing. I took the key of the door from the pocket of its +last holder, and dropped it through the hole, while the Countess and +Mathilde leaned over me, listening. Some moments passed before we heard +anything; then there came the sound of the key striking mud in the black +depths far below. The secret shaft, then, led to the bottom of the +tower. + +The Countess shuddered, and whispered: "Come, let us not lose a moment." + +I first lifted the masks, and recognized the murderers as fellows I had +seen lounging in the court-yard. Then I gave directions for descending +the ladder. I should have preferred being the last to leave the room but +that I thought it necessary to support the Countess in her descent and +Mathilde firmly refused to precede us. As the ladder might not hold the +weight of three, Mathilde would see us to the ground, and then follow. + +Two could not go out of the window at once, so I backed through first, +and waited when my feet were planted on the ladder, my breast being then +against the edge of the window sill. Madame followed me. I guided her +feet with one hand, and placed them on the ladder, having descended just +sufficiently to make room for her. I then lowered myself another round, +and she, holding on to a round in the window shaft with one hand, +grasped the first round outside with the other, emerged entirely from +the opening, and let me guide her foot a step lower. We then proceeded +downward in this manner, I holding my head and body well back from the +ladder so that her feet were usually on a level with my breast: thus if +she showed any sign of weakness, I could throw an arm around her. I had +first thought of having her clasp me around the neck, and so descending +with her, but once upon the ladder, I saw no safe way for her to get +behind me, or indeed to turn from facing the ladder. So we came down as +I say, while I kept as well as I could between her and the possibility +of falling. Frequently I asked in a whisper if all was well with her, +and she answered yes. + +When we were near the moat, I felt the ladder move from the wall and +knew that Hugues was drawing it toward him. I warned the Countess of our +change from a vertical to an inclined position, and so we were swung +across, and found ourselves above solid earth, on which we presently set +foot. + +"Best take Madame the Countess to the horses while I wait for Mathilde," +whispered Hugues to me, letting the ladder swing back; but Madame would +not go till the maid was safe beside us. Mathilde, who had watched our +descent, now drew her head in, and speedily we saw her feet emerge in +its stead. She came down the ladder with ease and rapidity, such were +her strength and self-possession. As soon as she touched the ground, +Hugues swung back the ladder to stay, and took up his cross-bow. + +"Come," I whispered, and we turned our backs to that grim tower and +hastened along the moat to the forest, passing on the way the high gable +window of what had been my prison, the postern which I had such good +reason to remember, and the oak from which I had seen Hugues display the +handkerchief. Scarce a word was spoken till we came to the horses. I +assisted the Countess to mount one of Hugues's two, she making no +difficulty about accommodating herself to a man's saddle. By that time +Hugues and Mathilde were on his second horse. I got upon my own, and we +started. Our immediate purpose was to go to Hugues's house by the woods +and lanes, fording the river below Montoire. + +As we came out of the forest, beyond St. Outrille, the moon rose, and +against the luminous Eastern sky we could see the dark tower we had left +behind,--tower of blood and death, on which I hoped never to set eyes +again. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +THE PARTING + + +We hoped to be at Hugues's house before the Countess's flight should be +discovered. Hugues and I discussed the chances as we rode. The Count +would probably give his murderous agents ample time before going to see +why they did not come to report the deed accomplished. He would then +lose many minutes in breaking into the cell, and again in questioning +the watchman on the tower--who could not have seen us in the woods and +distant lanes--and considering what to do. The bloodhounds would +doubtless be put upon the Countess's scent, but they would lose it at +the place where we had taken horse. And then, Hugues thought, having +tracked us into the forest, the Count would assume that we had continued +our flight through it without change of direction, and he would push on +to St. Arnoult, and along the road to Chateaurenault and Tours. This +was, indeed, the most likely supposition. The Count would scarce expect +to find us harboured in any house in the neighbourhood, and he knew +nothing of Hugues's attachment to Mathilde. Still I thought it well that +the Countess should travel on as far as possible that night, and I asked +her if she felt able to do so after stopping at Hugues's house for some +food. + +"Oh, yes," she answered compliantly. + +I then broke to her that Hugues's and I had provided a suit of boy's +clothes which she might substitute for her present attire at his house, +and so travel with less likelihood of attracting notice. To this she +made no objection. She seemed, on leaving the chateau, to have resigned +herself, almost languidly, to guidance. A kind of listlessness had come +over her, which I attributed to exhaustion of spirit after all she had +experienced. + +I then told her that Hugues and I had decided it best that Mathilde +should stay at his house for the present, keeping very close and having +the hiding-place accessible, while I went on with the Countess. Hugues +himself, who could entirely trust his old woman-servant and his boy, +would see us as far as to our first resting-place. + +To these proposals also she said "Very well," in a tone of +half-indifference, but she cast a long, sad look at Mathilde, at mention +of leaving her. + +"And then, Madame," I went on, "as to our journey after we leave +Hugues's house. You have said you are without relations or fortune." + +"Alas, yes. A provision for life-maintenance at the convent was all the +fortune left me." + +"In that case, I ask you, in the name of my father and mother, to honour +them as their guest at La Tournoire. I can promise you a safe and +private refuge there: I can promise you the friendship of my mother, the +protection of my father, and his good offices with the King, if need be, +to secure your rightful claims when the Count de Lavardin dies, as he +must before many years." + +"No, no, Monsieur, I shall have no claims. The Count married me without +dowry, and if there be any other claims I surrender them. As for your +generous offer, I cannot think of accepting it. You and I are soon to +separate, and must not see each other again." + +"But, Madame, I need not be at La Tournoire while you are there. I shall +be out in the world, seeking honour and fortune." + +"No, Monsieur, it is not to be thought of. My only refuge is the convent +from which the Count took me." + +"But is it safe to go there? Have you not said yourself that the Count +would take measures to intercept you on the way?" + +"But you and Hugues just now agreed that the Count would probably seek +me on the road to Chateaurenault. That is in the opposite direction to +the convent, which is beyond Chateaudun." + +"But the Count may seek toward the convent when he fails to find you in +the other direction. Or he may take the precaution to send a party that +way at once." + +"We shall be there before he or his emissaries can, shall we not? Once +in the convent, I shall be safe.--And besides, Monsieur,"--her voice +took on a faint touch of mock-laughing bitterness--"he will think I have +run away with you for love, and for a different life than that of a +convent. No; as matters are, it is scarce likely he will seek me in the +neighbourhood of the convent." + +It was then determined that we should make for the convent, which, +curiously, as it was beyond Chateaudun, happened to be upon my road to +Paris. We now arrived at Hugues's gate. + +I dismounted only to help the Countess, and stayed in the road with the +horses, while Hugues led Madame and Mathilde into the cottage. He took +them thence into the mill, that they might eat, and the Countess change +her dress, at the very entrance to the hiding-place. He then returned to +me, the plan being that if we heard pursuit he and I were to mount and +ride on, thus leading our enemies away from the Countess, who with +Mathilde should betake herself to the hiding-place till danger was past. +With Hugues's knowledge of the byways and forest paths, we might be able +to elude the hunt. During this wait we refreshed ourselves with wine and +bread, which the old woman brought, and the boy fed the horses. In a +short time the Countess reappeared, a graceful, slender youth in +doublet, breeches, riding-boots of thin leather, cap, and gloves. Her +undulating hair had been reduced by Mathilde, with a pair of shears, to +a suitable shortness. Mathilde followed her, loth to part. We allowed +little time for leave-taking with the poor girl, and were soon mounted +and away, Hugues leading. + +"I suggest, Madame," said I, as we proceeded along the road, which was +soon shadowed from the moonlight by a narrow wood at our right, "that on +this journey you pass as my young brother, going with me to Paris to the +University. I will say that we have ridden ahead of our baggage and +attendants,--which is literally true, for my baggage remains at Hugues's +house and you have left Mathilde there." + +"Very well, Monsieur," she replied. + +"I should have some name to call you by upon occasion," said I. "I will +travel as Henri de Varion, for De Varion was my mother's name, and if +you are willing to use it--" + +"Certainly, Monsieur. As for a name to call me by upon occasion, there +will be least falsehood in calling me Louis; for my real name is +Louise." + +"Thank you, Madame; and if you have to address me before people, do not +forget to call me Henri." + +"I shall not forget." + +Her manner in this acquiescence was that of one who follows blindly +where a trusted guide directs, but who takes little interest in the +course or the outcome. A kind of forlorn indifference seemed to have +stolen over her. But she listened to the particulars of residence and +history with which I thought it wise to provide ourselves, and briefly +assented to all. She then lapsed into silence, from which I could not +draw her beyond the fewest words that would serve in politeness to +answer my own speeches. + +Meanwhile Hugues led us from the road and across the narrow wood, thence +by a lane and a pasture field to the highway for Vendome and Paris. We +pushed on steadily, passed through Les Roches, which was sound asleep, +and, stopping only now and then to let our horses drink at some stream, +at which times we listened and heard no sound upon the road, we entered +Vendome soon after daylight. + +"Had we better stop here for a few hours?" said I, watching the Countess +and perceiving with sorrow how tired and weak she looked. + +"I think it well, Monsieur," replied Hugues, his eyes dwelling where +mine did. + +"And yet," I said, with a thought of the horror of her being taken, "it +is so few leagues from Lavardin. In such a town, too, the Count's men +would visit all the inns. If we might go on to some village--some +obscure inn. Could you keep up till then, Madame, do you think?" + +"Oh, yes,--I think so." But her pallor of face, her weakness of voice, +belied her words. + +"We should be more closely observed at some smaller place than here," +said Hugues. "Besides, we need not go to an inn here. There is a decent, +close-mouthed woman I know, a butcher's widow, who will lodge you if her +rooms are not taken. It would be best to avoid the inns and go to her +house at once. As like as not, if the Count did hunt this road, he would +pass through the town without guessing you were at private lodgings." + +"It is the best thing we can do," said I, with a blessing upon all +widows of butchers. Hugues guided us to a little street behind the +church of the Trinity, and soon brought the widow's servant, and then +the widow herself, to the door. Her rooms were vacant, and we took two +of them, in the top story, one overlooking the street, the other a +backyard wherein she agreed to let our horses stand. She promised +moreover to say nothing of our presence there, and so, while Hugues led +the horses through the narrow stone-paved passage, the widow showed us +to our rooms. The front one being the larger and better, I left the +Countess in possession of it as soon as we were alone, that she might +rest until the woman brought the food I had ordered. + +When breakfast was set out in the back room, and the Countess opened her +door in answer to my knock, she looked so worn out and ill that I was +alarmed. She had fallen asleep, she said, and my knock had wakened her. +She ate little, and I could see that she was glad to go back and lie +down again. + +I had thought to resume our journey in the evening, and perhaps reach +Chateaudun by a night's riding. But at evening the Countess seemed no +more fit to travel than before. So I decided to stay at the widow's till +Madame was fully recovered. Hugues would have remained with us another +day, but I sent him back to his mill and Mathilde. + +On the morrow the Countess was no better. I took the risk of going out, +obtaining medicine at the apothecary's, and purchasing other necessary +things for both of us which we had not been able to provide before our +flight. I was in dread lest we might have to resort to a physician and +so make discovery that my young brother was a woman. Madame declared her +illness was but exhaustion, and that she would soon be able to go on. +But it was some days before I thought her strong enough to do so. + +We had come into Vendome on a Wednesday: we left it on the following +Monday morning. We encountered nothing troublesome on the road, and +arrived at Chateaudun that Monday night. The Countess endured the +journey fairly well; but her strange, dreamy listlessness had not left +her. + +At Chateaudun as at Vendome, we sought out lodgings in a by-street, and +therein passed the night. We were now but a few hours' ride from the +convent, by Madame's account of its location. Soon I should have to part +from her, with the intention on her side not to see me again, and the +promise on mine to respect that intention. To postpone this moment as +long as possible, I found pretexts for delaying our departure in the +morning; but as afternoon came on she insisted upon our setting out. I +did so with a sorrowful heart, knowing it meant I must take my last +leave of her that evening. + +From our having passed nearly a week without any sign of pursuit, a +feeling of security had arisen in us. If the Count or his men had sought +in this direction, passing through Vendome while we lay quiet in our +back street, that search would probably be over by this time. But even +if chase had not been made simultaneously by various parties on various +roads, there had been time now for search in different directions one +after another. Yet spies might remain posted at places along the roads +for an indefinite period, especially near the convent. But as long as +the risk was only that of encountering a man or two at once, I had +confidence enough. In Vendome I had bought the Countess a light rapier +to wear for the sake of appearance, of course not expecting her to use +it. But though in case of attack I should have to fight alone, I felt +that her presence would make me a match for two at least. + +I tried to avoid falling in with people on the road, but a little way +out from Chateaudun we came upon a country gentleman, of a well-fed and +amiable sort, whose desire for companionship would let us neither pass +ahead nor drop behind. He was followed by three stout servants, and +expressed some concern at seeing two young gentlemen like us going that +road without attendants. + +"Though to be sure," he added, "there seems to be less danger now; but +you must have heard of the band of robbers that haunt the forests about +Bonneval and further on. There has been little news of their doings +lately, and some people think they may have gone to other parts. But who +knows when they will suddenly make themselves heard of again, when least +expected?--'tis always the way." + +He soon made us forget about dangers of the road, however, by his hearty +talk; though, indeed, for all his good-fellowship I would rather have +been alone with Madame in these last moments. About a league from +Chateaudun, he arrived at his own small estate, rich in wines and +orchards; he regretted that we would not stop, and recommended inns for +us at Bonneval and the towns beyond. + +We rode on, the Countess and I, in silence, my own heart too disturbed +for speech, and she in that same dispirited state which had been hers +from the beginning of our flight. Indeed now, when I was so soon to bid +her farewell, she seemed more tired and melancholy, pale and drooping, +than I had yet seen her. As I was sadly noticing this, we came to a +place where a lesser road ran from the highway toward a long stretch of +woods at the right. The Countess drew in her horse, and said, indicating +the branch road: + +"That is my way, Monsieur. I will say adieu here; but I will not even +try to thank you. You have risked your life for me many times over. I +will pray for you--with my last breath." + +"But, Madame," I exclaimed in astonishment, "we are not to say adieu +here. I must see you to the convent." + +"The convent is not so far now. I know the way; and I wish to go there +alone. You will respect my wish, I know: have you not had your way +entirely so far on our journey? You cannot justly refuse me my will +now." She gave a wan little smile as if she knew the argument was not a +fair one. + +"But, Madame,--what can be your reason?--It is not safe. Surely you will +not deny me the happiness of seeing my service fully accomplished,--of +knowing that you are safe at the convent?" + +"I am nearly there. I know the road,--it is a shorter way than the high +roads, but little used. I shall meet no travellers. I fear no danger." + +"But consider, Madame. The danger may be at the very end of your +journey. The Count may have spies within sight of the convent. You may +fall into a trap at the last moment." + +"I can go first to the house of a woodman in the forest, whose wife was +a servant of my mother's. They are good, trustworthy people, and can see +if all is safe before I approach the convent. If there is danger, I can +send word by them to the Mother Superior, who can find means to get me +in secretly at night. You may deem your service accomplished, Monsieur. +I must take my leave now." + +"But it is so strange! What can be your reason?--what can be your +objection to my going with you?" + +"Ah, Monsieur, it may be unfair, but a woman is exempt from having to +give reasons. It is my wish,--is not that enough? I am so deeply your +debtor already,--let me be your debtor in this one thing more.--You have +spent money for me: I have no means of repaying--nay, I will not mention +it,--you have given me so much that is above all price,--your courage +and skill. But enough of this--to speak of such things in my poor way is +to cheapen them. Adieu, Monsieur!--adieu, Henri!" + +She held out her hand, to which I lowered my lips without a word, for I +could not speak. + +"You will go your way when I go mine," she said with tenderness. "To +Paris, perhaps?" + +"To Paris--I suppose so," I said vaguely. + +"This horse belongs to Hugues," she said, stroking the animal's neck. "I +may find means to send it back to him.--Well, adieu! God be with you on +your journey, Monsieur,--and through your life." + +"Oh, Madame!--adieu, if you will have it so! adieu!--adieu, Louis!" + +She smiled acquiescently at my use of the name by which I had had +occasion to call her a few times at our lodging-places. Then, saying +once more, "Adieu, Henri!" she turned her horse's head and started down +the by-road. With a heavy heart, I waited till she had disappeared in +the woods. I had hoped she might look back, but she had not done so. + +A movement of my rein, which I made without intention, was taken by my +horse as a signal to go on, and the creature, resuming its original +direction, kept to the highway and plodded along toward Bonneval and +Paris. + +Never in all my life, before or since, have I felt so alone. What was +there for me to do now? All my care, all my heart, was with the solitary +figure on horseback somewhere yonder in the forest. Had life any object +for me elsewhere? + +Yes, faith!--and I laughed ironically as it came back to my thoughts--I +might now go on to Paris and cut off the moustaches of Brignan de +Brignan! + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +IN THE FOREST + + +But I had not yet come in sight of Bonneval, when fearful misgivings +began to assail me as to what might befall the Countess. I awoke to a +full sense of my folly in yielding to her wish. Her own apparent +confidence of safety had made me, for a time, feel there must be indeed +small danger. I had too weakly given way to her right of command in the +case. I had been too easily checked by respect for what private reason +she might have for wishing to go on without company. I had played the +boy and the fool, and if ever there had been a time when I ought to have +used a man's authority, laughing down her protests, it had been when she +rode away alone toward the forest. + +I turned my horse about, resolved to undo my error as far as I +might,--to go back and take the road she had taken, and not rest till I +knew she was safe in the convent. + +My fears increased as I went. What the country gentleman had said about +robbers came back to my mind. I arrived at the junction of the roads, +and galloped to the woods. Once among the trees, I had to proceed +slowly, for the road dwindled to a mere path, so grown with grass as to +show how little it was ordinarily resorted to. But there were horseshoe +prints which, though at first I took them to be only those of the +Countess's horse, soon appeared so numerously together that I saw there +must have been other travellers there recently. I perceived, too, that +the wood was of great depth and extent, and not the narrow strip I had +supposed. It was, in fact, part of a large forest. I became the more +disquieted, till at last, as the light of day began to die out of the +woods, I was oppressed with a belief as strong as certainty, that some +great peril had already fallen upon her I loved. + +I came into a little green glade, around which I glanced. My heart +seemed to faint within me, for there, by a small stream that trickled +through the glade, was a horse grazing,--a horse with bridle and saddle +but no rider. The rein hung upon the grass, the saddle was pulled awry, +and the horse was that of the Countess. + +I looked wildly in every direction, but she was nowhere to be seen. The +horse raised his head, and whinnied in recognition of me and my animal, +then went on cropping the grass. I rode over to him, as if by +questioning the dumb beast I might learn where his mistress was. There +was no sign of any sort by which I might be guided in seeking her. + +I called aloud, "Madame! madame!" But there was only the faint breeze of +evening among the treetops for answer. + +But the horse could not have wandered far. Whatever had occurred, there +must be traces near. My best course was to search the forest close at +hand: any one of those darkening aisles stretching on every side, like +corridors leading to caves of gloom, might contain the secret: each +dusky avenue, its ground hidden by tangled forest growth, seemed to bid +me come and discover. I dismounted, knowing I could trust my horse to +stay in the glade, and, crossing the stream, explored the further +portion of the path. + +I came to a place where the underbrush at the side of the path was +somewhat beaten aside. I thought I could distinguish where some person +or animal had gone from this place, tramping a sort of barely traceable +furrow through the tangle. I followed this course: it led me back to the +glade. Doubtless the horse had made it. + +I was about to go back along the path, when I noticed a similar +trodden-down appearance along one side of the stream where it left the +glade. Hoping little, I examined this. It brought me, after a few yards, +to a clear piece of turf swelling up around the roots of an oak. And +lying there, on the grassy incline, with her head at the foot of the +oak, was the Countess, as silent and motionless as death, with blood +upon her forehead. + +My own heart leaping, I knelt to discover if hers still moved. Her body +stirred at my touch. I dipped my handkerchief in the stream, and gently +washed away the blood, but revealed no cut until I examined beneath the +hair, when I found a long shallow gash. I hastily cleansed her hair of +the blood as well as I could, with such care as not to cause the wound +to flow anew. All the time I was doing this, my joy at finding her alive +and free was such that I could have sobbed aloud. + +She awoke and recognized me, first smiling faintly, but in a moment +parting her lips in sorrowful surprise, and then, after glancing round, +giving a sigh of profound weariness. + +"Am I then still alive?" she murmured. + +"Yes, Madame;--I thank God from my heart." + +"It is His will," she said. "I had hoped--I had thought my life in this +world was ended." + +"Oh, do not say that. What can you mean?" + +"When they surrounded me--the men who sprang up at the sides of the +path--I thought, 'Yes, these are the robbers the gentleman spoke +of,--God has been kind and has sent them to waylay me: if I resist, I +may be killed, and surely I have a right to resist.' So I drew my sword, +and made a thrust at the nearest. He struck me with some weapon--I did +not even notice what it was, I was so glad when it came swiftly--when I +felt I could not save myself. The blow was like a kiss--the kiss of +death, welcoming me out of this life of sad and bitter prospects." + +"Oh, Madame, how can you talk in this way, when you are still young and +beautiful, and there are those who love you?" + +"You do not know all, Henri. What is there for me in life? I am weak to +complain--weak to long for death--sinful, perhaps, to put myself in its +way, but surely Heaven will pardon that sin,--weak, yes; but, alas, I +cannot help it,--women are weak, are they not? What is before me, then? +I am one without a place in the world--without relations, without +fortune. If I were a man, I might seek my fortune--there are the wars, +there are many kinds of honourable service. But what is there for a +woman, a wife who has run away from her husband?" + +"But Madame, the convent,--you have a right to be maintained there. You +can at least live there, till time annuls the Count's claims upon you. +And then who knows what the future may bring?" + +"The convent--I have told you I should be safe there, and so no doubt I +should if I took the veil--" + +"Nay, Madame, not that, save as a last resort!" + +"Alas, I may not though I would. Do you think I should hesitate if I +were free? How gladly I would bury myself from this world, give myself +at once to Heaven! But that resource--that happiness--is forbidden me. +My mother, as she neared death, saw no security for me but as a +life-guest at a convent. Our small fortune barely sufficed to make the +provision. But she did not wish me to become a nun, and as she feared +the influence of the convent might lead that way, she put me under a +promise never to take the veil. So I am without the one natural resource +of a woman in my position." + +"But do you mean that you will not be safe at the convent merely as a +guest?" + +"The Count may claim the fulfilment of his rights as a husband. He may +use force to take me away. The Mother Superior cannot withhold me from +him; and indeed I fear she would be little inclined to if she could, +unless I consented to take the veil. Before the possibility of my +marriage came up, she was always urging me to apply for a remission of +the vow to my mother, so that I might become a nun. But that I would +never do." + +"But, Madame, knowing all this, how could you select the convent as your +refuge, and let me bring you so far toward it?" + +"Ah, Monsieur, what place in the world was there for me? And yet I had +to go somewhere, that your life might be saved, and Mathilde's, and the +happiness of poor Hugues. There was no other way to draw you far from +that chateau of murder, no other way to detach Mathilde from one who +could bring her nothing but calamity. And to-day, when I left you, I +thought all this was accomplished, and I was free to go my way in search +of death." + +"Oh, Madame, if I had known what was in your mind! Then you did not mean +to go to the convent?" + +"I meant to go toward the convent. It is further away than I allowed you +to suppose. I felt--I know not why--that death would meet me on the way. +I felt in my heart a promise that God would do me that kindness. At +first I had no idea of what form my deliverer would take. Perhaps, I +thought, I might be permitted to lose my way in the forest and die of +hunger, or perhaps I might encounter some wild beast, or a storm might +arise and cause me to be struck by lightning or a falling bough, or I +might be so chilled and weakened by rain that I must needs lie down and +die. I knew not what shape,--all I felt was, that it waited for me in +the forest. And when the gentleman spoke of robbers, I rejoiced, for it +seemed to confirm my belief." + +"And that is why you would not let me come with you?" + +"Yes, certainly; that you might not be present to drive death away from +me, or meet it with me. I hoped you would go on to Paris, thinking me +safe, and that you would soon forget me. You see how I desire you to +live, and how you can please me only by doing so." + +"And so, when you were at last in the forest--?" + +"At last in the forest, yes--I knew not how long I should have to ride, +but I made no haste,--sooner or later it would come, I thought. The +birds hopping about on the branches seemed to be saying to one another, +'See this lady who has come to meet death.' I crossed a glade, and +something seemed to whisper to my heart, 'Yonder it lies waiting, yonder +in the shades beyond that little stream.' So I went on, and true enough, +before I had gone far, five or six rough men sprang out from the bushes. +Two caught my reins, and one raised a weapon of some kind and bade me +deliver up my purse. I had no purse to deliver, and I feared they might +let me go as not worth their trouble. Then I thought they might hold me +for ransom, or rob me of my clothes, and discover I was a woman. Surely +I was justified in resisting such a fate; so I drew the sword you gave +me, and made a pass at the man with the weapon. He struck instantly, +before I could turn my head aside, and I had time only for a flash of +joy that God had indeed granted me deliverance. I scarce felt the blow, +and then all went out in darkness. I knew nothing after. How did I come +here? This is not the place where I met the robbers." + +"It is very strange," said I. "This is where I found you, only a little +while before you came to life. I had searched the path, but I saw no +robbers. They did not take your horse,--I found it in the glade yonder, +where I have left mine with it. That must be the glade you crossed +before they appeared." + +"But how came you to be here? Ah, did you disregard my wish and follow +me?" + +"Not at first. No; I went on toward Paris as you bade me. But after +awhile I too had a feeling of danger befalling you in this forest. It +was so strong that I could not force myself to go on. So I rode back, +hoping to come in sight of you and follow at a distance. I could not do +otherwise." + +"Ah, Henri, perhaps it is to you I owe the ill service of bringing me +back to life. Who knows?--I might have passed quietly away to death here +had you not come and revived the feeble spark left in me. I must have +been unconscious a long time." + +"Yes; thank God I arrived no later than I did. But why should the +robbers have brought you here? They have not even taken any of your +clothes. See, here is your sword, replaced in its scabbard; even your +cap is here, beside your head--look where the villain's weapon cut +through,--it must have been a sort of halberd. Why should they have +brought you here? Do they mean to return, I wonder?" + +I rose and looked around, peering through the dusky spaces between the +trunks of the trees, and straining my ears. Suddenly, amidst the chatter +of the birds returning to their places for the night, I made out a sound +of distant hoof-beats. + +"Horsemen!" I said. "But these robbers were on foot, were they not?" + +"Yes; I did not see any horses about." + +"Who can these be? There must be several!" + +They were apparently coming from that part of the forest toward which +the Countess had been riding. On account of the brushwood I could not +see them yet. + +"Well," said I, "we had best keep as quiet as possible till they pass. +But they will see our horses in crossing the glade. No, that must not +be. Wait." + +I ran back to the glade, and finding the horses close together, caught +them both, led them down the bed of the stream to where the Countess +was, and made them lie among the underwood, trusting to good fortune +that they would be quiet while the others were passing. + +Soon I could see, above the underbrush that extended to the path beyond +the brook, a procession of steel head-pieces, bearded faces, +breastplates over leather jerkins, and horses' heads. There were six or +seven men in all, one after another. I lay close to the earth and heard +them cross the stream. And then, to my astonishment, they came directly +along the stream by the way I had first come; I rose to my feet just in +time to face the leader as he stopped his horse within a yard of me. + +He gazed over the neck of his steed at me, and the Countess, and our two +animals. He was a tall, well-made, handsome man, seasoned but still +young, with a bronzed, fearless face. + +"Good evening," said he, in a rich, manly voice. "So the youngster has +come to his senses,--and found a friend, it appears." + +"I don't exactly understand you, Monsieur," said I. + +"You are not to blame for that," he replied good-humouredly. "It is true +I met your young friend awhile ago, but as he was more dead than alive +at that time, he couldn't have told you much. How is it with him now?" + +"I am not much hurt, Monsieur," replied the Countess for herself. + +"I scarce knew how I should find you when I returned," said the +newcomer. + +"Then you saw him here before, Monsieur?" said I. + +"Yes; it was I who brought him here,--but, faith! he was in no condition +to see what was going on. We were searching this forest on the King's +business, when I heard something a little ahead, which made me gallop +forward, and there I saw half-a-dozen ruffians around a horse, and one +of them dragging this youth from the saddle. I shouted to my comrades +and charged at the robbers. They dropped the lad, and made off along the +path. I stopped to see to the young gentleman, and ordered my companions +to pursue the rascals. The youngster, let me tell you, seemed quite done +for. He had been struck, as you see, evidently just before he was pulled +from the horse." + +"Yes, Monsieur," said the Countess; "and I knew nothing after the blow." + +"So it appeared," replied the horseman. "I saw that water was needed, +and remembering this stream we had crossed, I carried you to this place +and did what I could for you. But I had to go and recall my men,--I +feared they might be led too far, or separated by the robbers running in +different directions. That explains my leaving you alone. We have a +piece of work in hand, of some importance, and dare not risk anything +for the sake of catching those knaves." + +"I suppose they are part of the band that haunts this forest," said I. + +"No doubt. But this forest is at present the haunt of larger game. Those +scoundrels escaped us this time--they were favoured by the dusk and the +undergrowth. I was longer in catching up with my comrades than I had +thought. But I see all has gone well with that young gentleman in the +meantime." + +"Yes, Monsieur. I, his brother, ought never to have allowed him to go on +alone. But I was riding after, expecting to overtake him, when I came +upon his horse; I supposed he must be near, and I was fortunate enough +to seek in the right place. He shall not leave me again; and for us both +I thank you more than my tongue can ever express." + +"Pouf!--I did nothing. The question is, what now? My comrades and I have +affairs to look after in the forest. We shall continue on the path where +your brother met his accident, till we come to a certain forester's +house where we may pass the night. Your direction appears to be the +same, and you will be safe with us." + +"Again I thank you, Monsieur," I said, "but we shall give up our journey +through the forest. As soon as my brother feels able to ride, we shall +go back to the highway and pass the night at some inn. I think we shall +be safe enough now that you have frightened the robbers from this part +of the forest." + +The horseman eyed me shrewdly, and glanced at the Countess. It occurred +to me then that he had known her sex from the first, and that he now +trusted me with wisdom enough to judge best what I ought to do. So he +delicately refrained from pressing us, as he had all along from trying +to learn our secret. For a moment he silently twirled his moustaches; +then he said: + +"In that case, I have but to wish you good-night, and good fortune. +I think you will be safe enough between here and the highway. +Please do not mention that you have seen any of the King's guard +hereabouts,--though I fear that news is already on the wing." + +"What, Monsieur?--are you, then, of the King's guard?" + +"We have the honour to be so." + +"But I thought their uniform--" + +"Faith, we are in our working clothes," said he, with a laugh. The next +moment he waved us adieu, turned his horse about, and, his companions +also turning at his order, followed them out of our sight. + +"A very charming gentleman," said I, as the sound of their horses +diminished in our ears. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +THE TOWER OF MORLON + + +The Countess still lay on the grassy couch beneath the oak. She seemed +to have lost all will as to her course of action. + +"I think best not to go with those guards," I explained after a moment. +"For why should we travel their way without any destination? There is +nothing for us now in that direction. After what you have told me, I +dare not let you go to the convent." + +"There is no place for me," she said listlessly. "Death has disappointed +me, and left me in the lurch. I think this place is as good as another." + +She closed her eyes for some moments, as if she would lie there till +death came, after all. + +"No," said I; "you must not stay here. Night is coming on: the chill and +the dews will be harmful to you. Besides, there are clouds already +blotting out some of the stars, and the wind is rising and may bring +more. If there is rain, it may be heavy, after so many days of fine +weather. It will soon be too dark to follow the path. We must be getting +on." + +"I am weak from this blow," she said,--rather as if for a pretext +against moving, I thought. "I am not sure I could keep my saddle." + +"I can carry you as I ride, if need be, and let your horse follow. Come, +Madame, let us see if you can rise. If not, I will take you in my arms +to the glade, where it will be easier to mount." + +I stooped to support her, but she did not stir. + +"But where am I to go?" she said. "Of what use to travel aimlessly from +place to place? As you say, why should we ride on toward the convent +without a destination? But where else have I a destination?" + +"Listen, Madame. Is it not probable that after some weeks, or months, +the Count, still disappointed of your taking refuge at the convent, will +give up hope or expectation of finding you there? Will he not then +withdraw his attention from the convent?" + +"I suppose so." + +"And can we not, if we take time, find means to learn when that becomes +the case? Can we not, by careful investigation, make sure whether he is +still watching the convent or whether he has an informant there? Can we +not enter into communication with the Mother Superior, and find out what +her attitude is toward you,--whether, if you returned, your residence +there would be safe and kept secret? Surely she would not betray you." + +"Oh, no; whatever attitude she took, she would tell me the truth." + +"Then it is only necessary to wait a few months and take those measures, +without letting your own whereabouts be known even to the Mother +Superior." + +"But meanwhile would you have me continue doing as I have done since my +flight,--passing as something I am not, receiving the protection--living +on the very bounty--of the one person in all the world from whom I +should accept nothing? Why, Monsieur, if it were known--if no more than +the mere truth were told--would it not seem to justify the Count de +Lavardin?" + +"I do not ask you to do as you have done. For only two or three days you +need pass as a boy. You may then not only resume the habit of a woman, +but enjoy the company and friendship of a woman as saintly as yourself. +Your presence in her house must be a secret till affairs mend, but you +may be sure that if her friendship for you were known, it would be a +sufficient answer to anything your husband or the world might say +against you." + +"It is of your mother that you speak. But I told you before, it is not +from you that I dare accept so much." + +"It will be from my mother, who will believe me when I tell her the +truth, and who will take you as her guest and friend for your own sake. +As for me, my affairs in Paris will keep me from La Tournoire while you +are there:--for consider, what I propose now is not what you refused +that night we fled from Lavardin. I spoke then of your making La +Tournoire your refuge for an indefinite time,--the rest of your life, if +need be:--I speak now of your staying there only till your safe +residence at the convent can be assured,--only a few months, or weeks." + +Though I had begun and ended by speaking of the convent, I did so merely +with the object of inducing her to go to La Tournoire. Once there, she +would be under the guidance and persuasion of my mother, who could +influence her to remain till the Count's death removed all danger. + +"You must not refuse, Madame," I went on. "God has shown that He does +not desire your death, and it must be His will that you should accept +this plan, so clear and simple. Speak, Madame!" + +"I know not.--I have no strength, no will, to oppose further. Let it be +as you think best." The last vestige of her power of objection, of +resolving or thinking for herself, seemed to pass out in a tired sigh. + +"Good!" I cried. "Then we have but to regain the road and find some inn +for the night. To-morrow we shall ride back to Chateaudun, or perhaps on +to Bonneval, and then make for La Tournoire by Le Mans and Sablé, which +is to give a wide berth to Montoire and the road we have come by. Do you +think you can rise, Madame?--Nay, wait till I lead the horses out." + +I took the horses to the glade, then returned and found the Countess +already on her feet, though with her hand against the tree, as she was +somewhat dizzy. She walked with my assistance, and I helped her to her +saddle,--she now thought herself able to ride without support. I mounted +my own horse, grasped the halter of the other, and took the path for the +highway. + +"We are none too soon," said I, as we left the glade. "How dark the path +is even now: I hope we shall be able to keep it." + +Darkness came on more quickly than usual, because of the swift +overclouding of the sky. Very soon I could not see two paces before me. +Then blackness settled down upon us. My horse still went on, but slowly +and uncertainly, with many a halt to make sure of footing and a free +way. When I glanced back, I could not see the Countess, but I held the +tighter to the halter of her horse and frequently asked if all was well. +Her reply was, "Yes, Monsieur," in a faint, tired voice. I felt about +with my whip for the trees at the side of the path, and thus was able to +guide the horse when its own confidence faltered. + +Instead of cooling, the air became close. Suddenly the forest was +lighted up by a pale flash which, lasting but a moment, was followed +after a time by a distant rumble of thunder. + +"It is far away, Madame," said I. "It may not come in this direction, or +we may be safely housed before it does." + +"I am not afraid." + +However, lest rain might fall suddenly, I stopped the horses, unrolled +from behind my saddle a cloak which I had bought in Vendome, and put it +around the Countess. We then proceeded as best we could. Slowly as we +had gone, I began to think it time we should emerge from the forest; but +another flash of lightning showed apparently endless vistas of wood on +every side. We went on for another half hour or so, during which the +distant thunder continued at intervals; and then, finding ourselves as +deep in the forest as ever, I perceived that we must have strayed from +our right path. I stopped and told the Countess. + +"It must be so," she said. + +"I noticed no cross-path when I rode into the forest this afternoon. Yet +a path might join at such an angle that, looking straight ahead, I +should not have seen it. Yes, that is undoubtedly the case, if we are in +a path at all. Perhaps we are following the bed of a dried-up stream." + +"Do you wish to turn back, then?" + +"We might only lose ourselves. And yet that is what must happen if we go +ahead. Let us wait for a flash of lightning." + +One came presently, while my eyes were turned ready in what I thought +the direction from which we had come. But there seemed to lie no opening +at all in that direction. Then, in the blacker darkness that ensued, I +remembered that I had turned my horse slightly while talking of the +matter. I could not now tell exactly which direction we had come from. +It occurred to me that perhaps for some time we had wandered about in no +path at all, going where trees and underbrush left space clear enough to +be mistaken. + +I confessed that I knew not which way to go, even to find the original +path. + +"Is it best to ride on at random, in hope of coming upon something, or +to stay where we are till daylight?" I asked. + +The Countess had no will upon the matter. But the question was decided +for me by a heavy downpour of rain, which came in a rush without +warning. It was evident that the foliage over us was not thick. So I +shouted to the Countess that we would go on till we found trees that +gave more protection. I urged my horse to move, letting him choose his +own course, and he obediently toiled forward, I exerting myself to keep +the other horse close, and also feeling the way with my whip. + +As swift as the oncoming of the rain, was the increase of the lightning, +both in frequency and intensity. The fall of the rain seemed loud beyond +measure, but it was drowned out of all hearing when the thunder rolled +and reverberated across the sky. In the bright bursts of lightning, the +trees, seen through falling rain, seemed like companions suffering with +us the chastisement of the heavens; but in the darkness that intervened +between the flashes, the forest and all the world seemed to have died +out of existence, leaving nothing but the pelting waters and the din of +the storm. + +At last we came, not to a region where the boughs were less penetrable, +but to an open space where the downpour had us entirely at its mercy. I +thought at first we had got out of the forest, or into the glade we had +left: but a brilliant flash showed us it was another small clearing, +which rose slightly toward the thick woods on its further side. And the +same lightning revealed, against the background of trees, a solitary +tower, old and half-ruined, slender and of no great height. A doorway on +a level with the ground stood half open. + +"Did you see that?" I cried, when the lightning had passed. "There is +shelter." + +"It must be the tower of Morlon," said the Countess. + +"And who lives there?" + +"Nobody,--at least it was said to be empty when I used to hear of it. It +is all that is left of a house that was destroyed in the civil wars. +Hunting parties sometimes resort to it, and the peasants make use of it +when passing this way.--Yes, we have come far out of our road, if that +is really the tower of Morlon." + +"Then it is every man's house. The door is open." + +"It is an abandoned place, and people would take no care how they left +the door." + +"Let us go in, then. There can be nobody there, or the door would be +closed against this storm." + +I rode toward the spot where I supposed the tower was, and, rectifying +my course by the next flash, I presently felt the stone wall with my +whip. I dismounted, found the entrance, pushed the door wide, and saw by +the lightning a low-ceiled interior, which was empty. I led the horses +in, helped the Countess from the saddle, and removed her cloak, which, +though itself drenched, had kept her clothes comparatively dry. + +My first thought was of a place where the Countess might recline. But, +as I found by groping about and by the frequent lightning, there was +nothing except the floor, which, originally paved with stone, was now +covered with dried mud from the boots of many who had resorted to the +place before ourselves. There were no steps leading to the upper stories +of the tower: the part we were in was, indeed, but a sort of basement. +It occupied the full ground space of the tower, with the rough stone as +its only shell, and had no window nor any discoverable opening place in +the low ceiling. + +Thinking there might be an external staircase to the story above us, I +went out and felt my way around the tower, but found none. The entrance +to the main or upper part of the tower from the buildings that once +adjoined must have been to the story above, from a floor on the same +level. I thought of seeking the opening and climbing in from the back of +my horse, but I reflected that the upper stories also would doubtless be +denuded, while they could offer no better shelter from the rain. So I +was content with taking the saddles from the horses, and placing them +together upside down in such a way that they constituted a dry reclining +place for the Countess. + +There was no dry wood to be had from the forest, and no fuel of any kind +in our place of refuge; so I could not make a fire. While the Countess +sat in silence, I paced the floor until I succumbed to fatigue. By that +time, much of the water had dripped from my clothes, and I was able to +sit on the carpet of earth with some comfort. I leaned my back against +the wall, to wait till the storm and the night should pass. + +The horses had lain down, and the Countess, as I perceived by her deep +breathing and her not answering me, was asleep. The thunder and +lightning were less near and less powerful, but the rain still fell, now +decreasingly and now with suddenly regathered force. At last I too +slept. + +I awoke during the night, and changed from a sitting to a lying +position. When I next opened my eyes, the light of dawn was streaming in +at the door. The storm had ceased, birds were twittering outside. I was +aching and hungry. The Countess's face, as she slept, betokened weakness +and pain. I went and adjusted a saddle-flap that had got awry under her. +As I did so, she awoke. + +"I am so tired," she said in a slow, small voice, like that of a weary +child. + +"You are faint for want of food," said I. "You have eaten nothing since +noon yesterday, and very little then." + +Thinking I wished to hurry our departure in search of breakfast, she +shook her head and murmured weakly: + +"I am not able to go on just now. I assure you, I cannot even stand. All +strength seems to have gone out of me." As if to illustrate, she raised +her hand a few inches: it trembled a moment, then fell as if powerless. + +It was plain that she was, whether from fatigue and privation alone, or +from illness also, in a helpless state. It would be cruelty and folly to +put her on horseback. And without at least the refreshment of food and +wine, how was her condition to be improved so that she might leave this +place? + +After some thought and talk, I said: + +"The only thing is for me to go and get you food and wine, while you +stay here. But, alas, what danger you may be in while I am gone! If +anybody should come here and find you!" + +"Nobody may come. Surely there are many days when this place is left +deserted." + +"But if somebody _should_ come?" + +"All people are not cruel and wicked. It might be a person who is kind +and good." + +"But the robbers?" + +"Why should they come? There is nothing for them here. If they came it +would be by chance; against that, we can trust in God." + +"Perhaps intruders can be bolted out," said I, going to examine the +door. It was of thick oak, heavily studded with nails, and two of its +three hinges still held firmly. But there was no bolt, nor any means of +barring. + +"Nothing but a lock," I said, "and no key for that." It only aggravated +my feeling of mockery to discover that both parts of the lock were still +strong. In my petulance I flung the door back against the wall. + +As one sometimes gives the improbable a trial, from mere impulse of +experiment, I took from my pocket the two keys I had brought from +Lavardin. I tried first that of the room in which I had been imprisoned: +it was too small, and of no avail. I then inserted the key of the +postern. To my surprise, it fit. I turned it partly around; it met +resistance: I used all my power of wrist; the lock, which had stuck +because it was rusted and long unused, yielded to the strength I +summoned. + +"Thank God!" I cried. "It seems like the work of providence, that I kept +the postern key." + +I now reversed and withdrew the key, and applied it to the lock from the +inside of the door, which I had meanwhile closed. But alas!--no force of +mine could move the lock from that side, though I tried again and again. + +I went outside and easily enough locked the door from there. I then +renewed my endeavours from the inside, but with failure. + +"Alas!" said I, turning to the Countess; "if I cannot lock the door from +within, how much less will you be able to do so." + +"But you can lock it from without," she answered, taking trouble to +secure my peace of mind. "Why not lock me in? It will be the same thing. +In either case I should not go out during your absence." + +"That is true," I said. "I will make haste. If the door is locked +against intruders, what matters it which of us has the key? I will guard +it as my life,--nay, that too I will guard as never before, for yours +will depend upon it." + +I then questioned the Countess as to what part of the forest we were in, +but her knowledge of the location of the tower, with regard to roads or +paths, was vague. + +I decided to take both horses with me, lest one, being heard or seen, in +or about the tower, might excite the curiosity of some chance passer +through the forest. But I left the saddles with the Countess. Anxious to +lose no more time, I knelt and kissed her hand, receiving a faint smile +in acknowledgment of my care; led out the horses, locked the door, +pocketed the key, mounted, and was off. I went haunted by the sweet, +sorrowful eyes of the Countess as they had followed me to the door. + +With the sun to guide me, I rode Westward, for in that direction must be +the highway we had left the day before. By keeping a straight course, +and taking note of my place of emergence from the forest, I should be +able to find my way back to the tower. The leaves overhead were nowhere +so thick but that splashes of sunshine fell upon the earth and +undergrowth, and, by keeping the shadow of my horse and myself ever +straight in front, I maintained our direction. But besides this I +frequently notched the bark of some tree, always on its South side, with +my dagger. Having this to do, and the second horse to lead, and the +underbrush being often difficult, my progress was slower than suited my +impatience. But in about an hour and a half from starting, I came out of +the forest upon the bank of the Loir, which is so insignificant a stream +thereabouts that I may not have mentioned fording it upon entering the +woods on the previous day. I let the horses drink, and then rode +through, and across a meadow to the highway. I turned to the right, and +arrived, sooner than I had expected, at the gate of a town, which proved +to be Bonneval. I stopped at the inn across from the church, saw to the +feeding of my horses, and then went into the kitchen. I ordered a supply +of young fowl, bread, wine, milk in bottles, and other things; and +bargained with the innkeeper for a pair of pliable baskets and a strap +by which they might be slung across my horse like panniers. While I +waited for the chickens to roast, I used the time in reviving my own +energies with wine, eggs, and cold ham, which were to be had +immediately. + +Three or four people came or went while I was eating, and each time +anybody crossed the threshold of the door, I glanced to see what sort of +person it was. This watchfulness had become habitual to me of late. But +as I was about finishing my meal, with my eyes upon my plate, I had an +impression that somebody was standing near and gazing at me. As I had +not observed any one to come so close, I looked up with a start. And +there stood Monsieur de Pepicot, his nose as long as ever, his eyes as +meek as when they had first regarded me at Lavardin. + +"My faith!" I exclaimed. "You rise like a spirit. I neither saw nor +heard you enter." + +"I am a quiet man," he replied with a faint smile, sitting down opposite +me. + +"You are the very ghost of silence itself," said I. "What do you wear on +the soles of your boots?" + +Again he smiled faintly, but he left my question unanswered. "So you +managed to keep out of trouble at that place where I last saw you?" said +he. + +"If I did not keep out of it, at least I got out of it." + +"You are a clever young man,--or a lucky one. I was a little disturbed +in mind at leaving you as I did. But--business called me. I knew that if +you could manage to keep a whole body for ten days or so, even if that +amiable Count did see fit to cage you up, you would be set free in the +end." + +"Set free? By the Count, do you mean?" + +"Not at all. By those who would visit the Count; by those who have--But +stay,--have you not just come from Lavardin?" + +"No, indeed. I left that hospitable house more than a week ago. I set +myself free." + +"Oh, is that the case? I ask your pardon. When I saw you here, I +naturally supposed your liberation was a result of what has just +occurred. I haven't yet learned all particulars of the event." + +"What event? I don't understand you." + +"Then you don't know what has been going on at Lavardin recently?" + +"Not I." + +"Oh, indeed? Well, it will be known to all the world very soon. The +Count, it seems, was suspected of some hand in the late intrigue with +Spain--" + +"Ah!" + +"Why do you say 'Ah!'?" + +"Nothing. I always thought there might be something wrong with the +Count's politics." + +"Well, so they thought in Paris. And having made sure--" + +"How did they make sure?" + +"Oh, by the discovery of certain documents, no doubt," said Monsieur de +Pepicot, with a notable unconsciousness. "It is the usual way, is it +not?" + +"Aha! I begin to see now. You overdo the innocence, my friend. I begin +to guess what you were doing at Lavardin--" + +"Monsieur, I know not what you mean." + +"I begin to guess why you wanted to get into the chateau,--what you were +wandering about the house with a lantern for,--why you took your leave +so unexpectedly,--and how you knew that in ten days I should be set +free." + +"Nay, Monsieur, I cannot follow you in your perceptions. I know only +that on Monday evening a party of the King's guard appeared before the +Chateau de Lavardin--" + +"Having been sent from Paris soon after you had arrived there with the +documents you found in the chateau." + +"Please do not interrupt with your baseless conjectures, Monsieur. As I +said, the guards arrived at Lavardin just as, by great good fortune, the +Count himself was returning from some journey or excursion he had been +on. Thus they met him outside his walls: had it been otherwise they +would doubtless have had infinite trouble, for, as we know, the chateau +has been for some time fully prepared for a siege, even to being +garrisoned by the company of Captain Ferragant." + +"What! then those fellows who thronged the court-yard--" + +"Were a part of Captain Ferragant's famous company,--only a part, as I +should have said at first, unless he has reduced its numbers. Well, +instead of having the difficulty of besieging the chateau, the guards +had the luck to meet the Count in the road, when he had only a few +followers with him. And so they made short work." + +"They succeeded in arresting him?" + +"Not exactly that. He chose to resist, no doubt thinking he would soon +be reinforced from the chateau by the Captain and garrison. And in the +fight, the Count was killed,--stuck through the lungs by the sword of a +guard who had to defend himself from the Count's own attack." + +"My God! the Count killed!--dead!--out of the way!" For a moment I +entirely yielded to the force of this news, which to my ears meant so +much. + +"Yes. You don't seem grieved.--Yes: he will never annoy people again. +The Captain, though, seeing from the chateau how matters had gone, came +out with his men on horseback,--not to avenge the Count, but to ride off +as fast as possible in the other direction. So the King's guardsmen had +no trouble in getting into the chateau. A party of them, I believe, set +off in pursuit of the Captain, who has long been a thorn in the side of +people who love order. If he is caught, it can be shown that he was +involved in the treason; and there it is." + +"So the Captain has not been caught?" + +"He had not been when I heard the news." + +"And how did you hear it?" + +"From one of the guardsmen, who happens to be of my acquaintance. I saw +them as they came through Chateaudun yesterday afternoon, on their +return from this business. We had very little time for talking." + +"Then you were not with them at Lavardin?" + +"I with them? Certainly not, Monsieur. Why should I have been with them? +No; I have been staying in this part of the country for my own pleasure +the past few days: I think of buying some apple orchards near +Chateaudun.--I fancied you would be interested in this news." + +"I am, dear Monsieur de Pepicot,--infinitely. I am sorry I must leave +you now, but I have business of some haste. I thank you heartily, and +hope we may meet again. You know where La Tournoire is." + +Five minutes later, with my baskets slung before me, and having left one +horse at the inn, I was riding out of Bonneval to tell the Countess that +she was free. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +THE MERCY OF CAPTAIN FERRAGANT + + +I had come to a place where the road runs, narrower than ever, between +banks covered with bushes. All at once the perfect loneliness and +silence were broken by three or four men leaping out of the bushes in +front of me and barring the way, one presenting a pistol, another a long +pike, while a third prepared to seize my rein. I instantly spurred +forward, to make a dash for it: at the same time I was conscious that +other fellows had sprung into the road behind me. The knave caught both +reins close to the bit, and hung on under the horse's head, while the +poor animal tried to rear. I drew sword and dagger, and leaned forward +to run this fellow through. As I made my thrust, my senses suddenly went +out in a kind of fire-streaked darkness. As I afterwards learned, I had +been struck on the back of the head with a loaded cudgel by one of the +unseen men behind. When I came to myself I was lying on the earth in a +little bushy hollow away from the road: my hands were tied behind me, +and around each ankle was fastened a rope, of which one of my assailants +held the loose end. These two fellows and their four comrades were +seated on the ground, eating the fowls and drinking the wine and milk I +had provided for the Countess. One of them wore my sword, another had my +dagger. My purse lay empty on the grass, and my horse was hobbled with +the strap from my baskets. + +My first thought was of the key. Searching about with my eyes, I +presently saw it, with the other one, at the edge of the bushes, where +they had doubtless been thrown as of no value. + +My head was aching badly, but that was nothing to the terror in my heart +for the Countess: if I was hindered from going to her, who was to give +her aid?--nay, who was to release her from that dark hiding-place? She +would die for lack of food and air,--her cell of refuge would be her +tomb! + +"Ah!" exclaimed one of the robbers; "the worthy young gentleman comes to +life." + +"You are right," said I, trying to hit the proper mood in which to deal +with them. "I'm not sorry, either, as I was in some haste to get on. My +friends, as you appear to have emptied me of everything that can be of +any use to you, what do you say to allowing my poor remaining self to go +about my business?" + +"And to give information about us as soon as you get to Chateaudun, eh?" +said one. + +I was satisfied to let them think I was bound for Chateaudun. + +"No," I replied. "Poor as I am, the toll you have collected from me is +not as much as my necessity of finishing my journey. So if you will +untie me, and can find it in your hearts to give me back my horse--or at +worst to let me go afoot,--I will cry quits, and give you my word of +honour to forget you completely." + +"You speak well, young gentleman: but it's not to us that you need +speak. We shall be taking you presently to one you can make proposals +to." + +"Why should you waste time in taking me to your leader, when you are +quite able to make terms yourselves?" said I. "Come. I can offer him no +more than I can offer you. Suppose it were a hundred crowns: he would +have the lion's share of it, and you poor fellows would get but a small +part. If I deal with you alone, he need be never the wiser, and you will +have the whole sum to divide among you." + +"And how would you get the five hundred crowns?" + +"I said one hundred: I would get them by going for them: I would give +you my promise on the honour of a gentleman." + +The ruffians laughed. "No," said the one who had spoken most. "You would +have to stay with us, and send for them. And our leader is the one to +manage that. He will make you a fine, fair offer, no doubt." + +My heart sank. I tried persuasion, but nothing could move them. +Doubtless each was afraid of the others, or they were very strongly +under the dominion of their chief. + +I asked them to give me back my keys, whereupon one of them put the keys +in his own wallet. They finished the food and drink, and made ready to +depart. Their preparations consisted mainly of blindfolding me with a +thick band of cloth, putting me on my horse, and tying together under +the animal's belly the ropes that bound my ankles. Then a man mounted +behind me, I heard another take the rein to lead, the horse was turned +around several times so as to confuse my sense of direction, and we set +off. We presently crossed a stream, and a little later I knew by sound +and smell that we were in the forest. When we had traversed a part of +it, the horse was again turned around twice or thrice, and we continued +on our way. All the time I was thinking of her who waited for me in the +darkness of her tomb-like prison. + +At last, by feeling the sun upon me and by other signs, I knew that we +had come to a space clear of trees. We stopped a moment, and I heard +calls exchanged and a gate opened; and then my horse's feet passed from +turf to a very rough, irregular pavement. The sound of horses in their +stalls at one side, the cooing of pigeons at the other, the gate, the +rude paving, the remote situation, all taken together informed me that +we were in an enclosed farm-yard. We stopped a second time, and my ankle +ropes being then detached from each other, I was hauled down from the +horse. The men with me were now greeted by others, who came apparently +from the side buildings. I was led forward into a stone-floored passage, +where I had to sit on a bench, guarded by I know not how many, while one +went up a flight of stairs near at hand, evidently to give an account of +their prize to somebody in authority. Presently a voice from above +called down, "Bring the prisoner hither," and I was taken upstairs and +through a doorway. + +My entrance drew an ejaculation from a person already in the room, who +thereupon gave orders in a low voice. I was made to sit on the floor, +and my ankles were tied close together. A chain was then wound +ingeniously about my ankle-bonds, my legs, and the cords at my wrists; +passed through a hole in the floor and around a cross beam, and finally +fastened with a padlock, in such a way that I was secured beyond power +of extricating myself. + +"Now, go, and wait in the passage," said the voice in which the previous +orders had been given. "But first take that rag from his eyes. He may as +well see: it will amuse him, and will not hurt us,--I will take care of +that." + +The band was removed, and I found myself in a bare, plastered room with +a barred window. In front of me stood a large man with a mask on his +face. Where the mask ended, his beard began, so that he presented a +visage entirely of black. The robbers who had brought me hither went +out, closing the door, and I was left alone with this man. + +He regarded me a moment; then dropped into a chair, with a low grunt of +laughter. + +"That it should be this fool, of all fools!" he began. "Who shall say +there is no such thing as luck? Monsieur, I am sure it will please you +to know into whose hands you have fallen." + +He took off his mask, and there was the red-splashed face of Captain +Ferragant. + +Surprise made me dumb for a moment, for he had hitherto disguised his +voice. He sat looking at me with a most cruel expression of malevolent +triumph. + +"So, this is where you have fled,--and you are the chief of the +robbers!" said I. + +"Call me that if you like. It matters nothing what names you prefer to +use. No ears will ever hear them but mine; and mine will not be long +afflicted with the sound." + +I shuddered, for I knew the implacability of this man, and my death +meant the death of the Countess,--death in the dark, mouldy basement of +the tower, death by stifling and starvation while she waited in vain for +me, a slow and solitary death, rendered the more agonizing to her mind +by suspense and fears. And this horrible fate must needs be hers just +when the cause of her sorrows and dangers had been removed! It was a +thought not to be endured. + +"You will have your jest," said I. "But I see no reason why you should +bear me malice. The Count de Lavardin is now a dead man, I hear. I can +no longer be against him, nor you for him. Therefore bygones should be +bygones, and I suppose you will make terms with me as with any other man +who happened to come before you as I do." + +"You do me an injustice, young gentleman: I am not so mercenary,--I do +not always make terms. It is true, I served the Count for pay; that is +what my company is for, and if he had not gone out of his chateau to +hunt his wife, we might have defended the place till the enemy was tired +out. But he allowed himself to be caught in the road,--you have heard +the news, then? What do they say of me?" + +"That when you saw the Count was killed, you ran away." + +"Yes, I was of no use to the Count then, and his own men in the chateau +were not well inclined toward me. They were for giving up the place, the +moment he was dead. I thought best to save my good fellows for better +service elsewhere." + +"Then your company and the band of robbers in this forest are the same?" + +"If you call them robbers,--they forage when there is need. I did not +have them all at the chateau. The good fellows who brought you here were +not at Lavardin with me. It is well, when one is in a place, to have +resources outside. And so we meet again, my young interloper! You were +rude to me once or twice at Lavardin. I shall pay you for that, and +settle scores on behalf of my friend the Count as well." + +"How much ransom do you want?" I asked bluntly. "Name a sum within +possibility, and let me go for it immediately: you know well you can +rely upon my honour to deliver it promptly at any place safe for both of +us, and to keep all a secret." + +"Do not insult me again. I have told you I am above purchase." + +Despite his jesting tone, my hope began to fall. + +"You are not above prudence, at least," I said. "I assure you there are +people who will move earth and heaven to find what has become of me, and +whose powers of vengeance are not light." + +"If I went in fear of vengeance, my child, I should never pass an easy +moment. I have learned how to evade it,--or, better still, to turn it +back on those who would inflict it. I fear nobody. When the game is not +worth the risk, one can always run away, as I did from Lavardin when the +Count's death threw his men into a panic." + +"Good God!" I cried, giving way to my feelings; "what will move you, +then? What do you wish me to do? Shall I humiliate myself to plead for +my life? shall I beg mercy? If I must descend to that, I will do so." + +For you will remember another life than mine was staked upon my fate, +and time was flying. How long could she endure without food, without +drink, without renewal of air, in that locked-up place of darkness? + +"Mercy, I beg," I cried, in a voice broken by fears for her. + +"You have hit upon the right way, at last," said the Captain, and my +heart bounded in spite of his continued irony of voice and manner. "You +beg for mercy, you shall have it. I will give you your life, and your +liberty as well: on your part, you will tell me where the Countess de +Lavardin is; as soon as I have made sure you have told the truth, I will +set you free." + +I gazed at him in silence. + +"Is not that merciful?" said he; "a full pardon for all your affronts +and offences, in return for a trifling piece of information?" + +"It is a piece of information I cannot give you," I replied. + +"It is a waste of time and words to try to deceive me," said the red +Captain. "A young gentleman who risks so much for a lady as you have +done, and accomplishes so much for her,--yes, they were wonders of +prowess and courage, I admit, and I compliment you upon them,--a young +gentleman who does all that for a lady does not so soon lose knowledge +of her whereabouts. Do not trifle with me, Monsieur. Where is the +Countess? There is no other way by which you can save yourself." + +"Do you think, then, a man who has shown the courage and prowess you +mention, for the sake of a lady, would save himself by betraying her?" + +"Oh, you are young, and may have many years before you--a life of great +success and honour. There are other beautiful ladies in the world. In a +very short time you can forget this one." + +"I think it is for you to forget her," said I on the impulse. "As for +me, I would rather die!" + +Ah, yes, it was easy enough to die, if that were all: but to leave her +to die, and in such a manner, was another thing. Yet I knew she would +prefer death, in its worst form, to falling into the unrestrained hands +of the red Captain. The man's eyes, from the moment when he introduced +her name, betrayed the eagerness of his new hope to make himself her +master,--though he still controlled his speech. I say his new hope, for +it must have arisen upon the death of the Count, during whose life, not +daring openly to play the rival, he had found his only satisfaction in a +revenge which provided that none might have what was denied to him. It +was for me to decide now whether she should die or find herself at the +mercy of Captain Ferragant. Was it right that I should decide for her as +she would decide for herself? Was it for me to consign her to death, +though I was certain that would be her own choice? Even though the +Captain found her, was not life, with its possible chance of future +escape, of her being able to move him by tears and innocence, of some +friendly interposition of fate, preferable to the sure alternative doom? + +"I will leave you to make up your mind quietly," said the Captain. "When +you are ready to speak to the point, call to the men in the +passage,--one of them will come to me. The door will be left open. I +hope you will not be slow in choosing the sensible course: I cannot give +you many hours for consideration." + +He went out, addressed some orders to four or five men who sat on a +bench facing my door, and disappeared: I heard his feet descending the +stairs. My door was left wide open, so that I was directly in the gaze +of the men. But even if I had been unobserved, I could not have moved +from the place where I sat. Any effort to break my bonds, either of +wrist or ankle, by sheer strength, was but to cause weakness and pain. +My arms ached from the constraint of their position, and, because of +them behind me, it was impossible to lie at full length on my back. Nor +would the chain, without cutting into my thighs, permit me to lie on +either side. I was thus unable to change even my attitude. + +But my discomforts of body were nothing in presence of the question that +tore my mind. Minutes passed; time stretched into hours: still I +discussed with myself, to which of the fates at my choice should I +deliver her? Should I give her to death, or to the arms of the red +Captain? Little as she feared the first, much as she loathed the second, +dared I take it upon myself to assign her to death? Had it been mere +death, without the horrors of darkness and desertion, without the +anxious wonder as to why I failed her, I should not have been long in +deciding upon that. For that would be her wish, and I should not survive +her. Let us both die, I should have said; for what will life be to her +after she has fallen into the hands of this villain, and what to me +after I have delivered her into them? But the peculiar misery of the +death that threatened her, kept the problem still busy in my mind. + +And yet I could not bring myself to yield her to the Captain. + +The day had become afternoon, and I still debated. The Countess must +have expected me to return before this time. What was her state now? +what were her conjectures? Ah, thought I, if we had not found our way to +that lonely tower, if the storm had not come up the previous night, if +we had started to leave the forest earlier!--nay, if I had had the +prevision, upon hearing of the presence of robbers, to make her turn +back to Chateaudun with me, and lodge quietly there until the Mother +Superior of the convent could be sounded, and a safe way of approach be +ascertained, all would now be well. We should have heard in the meantime +of the Count's death. Yes, everything had gone wrong since the Countess +had taken the road for the forest. The third of Blaise Tripault's maxims +which he had learned from the monk came back to me with all the force of +hapless coincidence: + +"_Never leave a highway for a byway._" + +The thought of Blaise Tripault made me think of my father. What a +mockery it was to know that I, chained helpless to the floor in this +remote stronghold of ruffians, was the son of him, the Sieur de la +Tournoire, the invincible warrior before whose sword no man could stay, +and who would have rushed to the world's end to save me or any one I +loved! To consider my need, and his power to help, and that only his +ignorance of my situation stood between, was so vexing that in my +bitterness of soul, regardless of the men in the passage, I cried out to +the empty air, "Oh, my father! If you but knew!" + +And then, for a moment, as if the bare wall were no impediment, I saw a +vision of my father, with his dauntless brow and grizzled beard, his +great long sword at his side, riding toward me among green trees. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +THE SWORD OF LA TOURNOIRE + + +The light softened and faded into that of evening. Another set of men +took the places of those outside my door. No food nor drink was brought +me, and I supposed the Captain hoped by this neglect to reduce me the +sooner to a yielding state. But I was even glad to have to undergo some +of the discomforts which the Countess must needs be enduring. I gave up +hope of her life or my own, and, leaning forward so as to get some +relief of position, I fell into a kind of drowsy lassitude. + +Suddenly, through my window, which overlooked the court-yard, I heard a +low call at the gate, which was answered. Presently I heard the gate +close, and assumed it had been opened to let in the man who had uttered +the call. About a minute after that, there was a considerable noise in +the yard, as of men hastily assembling. Then came the voice of the +Captain, apparently addressing the whole company. When he finished, +there was a general movement of feet, as of men dispersing about the +yard, and this was followed by complete silence. + +The men in the passage were now joined by a comrade, who spoke to them +rapidly in a low tone. They whispered to one another in some excitement, +but did not leave their places nor take their eyes from me. + +The next sound I heard was of the tread of horses approaching. My +curiosity now aroused, I strained my ears. The hoof-beats came to the +gate, and then I heard a loud knock, followed by no other sound than of +the pawing and snorting of the horses as they stood. There must have +been at least a score of them. + +Presently the unheeded knock was repeated, and then a quick, virile +voice called out: + +"Hola, within there! Open the gate, in the name of the King!" + +My heart leaped. The voice was that of the royal guardsman who had saved +the Countess from the robbers the previous evening. But his party was +now evidently much larger than before. + +No answer was given to his demand. The red Captain's intent apparently +was to make these newcomers believe the place deserted. I had an impulse +to shout the truth, but I saw my guards watching me, their hands on +their weapons, and knew that my first word would be the signal for my +death. So I kept silence. + +"If you do not open the gate at once," the guardsman cried, "we will +open it for ourselves, in our own way." + +I now heard footsteps shuffling across the yard, and then one of the +robbers spoke, in the quavering tones of an old man: + +"Pardon, Monsieur. Pardon, I pray, but it is impossible for me to open. +I am all alone here in charge of this place, which is empty and +deserted, and I'm forbidden to open the gate to anybody but the master. +He would kill me if I disobeyed, and besides that, I have taken a vow. +There is nothing here that you can want, Monsieur." + +"There is shelter for the night to be had here, and that we mean to +have. We are on the business of the King, and I command you to open." + +"I dare not, Monsieur. I should imperil my life and my soul. There is a +lodge in the forest a mile to the east, and the keeper will see to all +your wants: there is plenty of shelter, food for yourselves, hay for +your horses, everything you can need. Here all is dismantled and empty." + +"Old man, you are lying. Unbar the gate in a moment, or your life will +indeed be in danger." + +To this the "old man" gave no answer, except to come away from the gate +with the same simulated walk of an aged person. + +I heard the horsemen discussing in low tones. Then, to my dismay, came +the sound of hoofs again, this time moving away. Now I was more than +ever minded to cry out, but my guards were ready to spring upon me with +their daggers. I might have sought this speedy death, but for the sudden +thought that the withdrawal of the royal guardsmen might be only +temporary. + +I know not how many minutes passed. The sound of the horses had died out +for some time. I became sensible of the tramp of men's feet. Were the +guardsmen returning without their horses? Suddenly the red Captain's +voice arose in the court-yard: + +"To the walls, you with firearms! Shoot them down as they try to batter +in the gate! All the rest, stand with me to kill them if they enter!" + +The tramp of the guardsmen came swiftly near. I heard the reports of +muskets and pistols. There was a loud thud, as of some sort of ram--a +fallen branch or trunk from the forest--being borne powerfully against +the gate. This was answered by defiant, profane shouts and more loud +detonations. My guards in the passage groaned, exclaimed, and clenched +their weapons, mad to be in the fray. I could only listen and wait. + +There was a second thud against the gate, amidst more cries and shots. +And soon came a third, the sound being this time prolonged into a crash +of timber. A shout of triumph from the invaders, a yell of execration +from the red Captain and his men, and the clash of steel, told that the +gate had given way. + +"Follow close, gentlemen! Trust me to clear a path!" cried a hearty +voice, cheerful to the point of mirth, which thrilled my soul. + +"Ay, follow him close!" cried the leader of the guardsmen; "follow the +sword of La Tournoire!" + +I could have shouted for joy, but that it was now worth while postponing +death by minutes. + +The noise of clashing swords increased and came nearer, as if the +guardsmen were pouring in through the gateway and driving the defenders +back toward the house. Now and then came the sound of a pike or reversed +musket meeting steel armour, and all the time fierce exclamations rose +from both parties. There was no more firing; doubtless the melee was too +close and general for anybody to reload. + +The men in the passage, as the tumult grew and approached, became as +restless as dogs in leash that whine and jump to be in the fray. At last +one of them ran into my room and looked out of the window. + +"Death of the devil, how they are at it!" he cried, for the information +of his comrades outside my door. "I think we shall be wanted in a minute +or two. These cursed intruders have forced the gateway. Our fellows are +twice as many as they, but their heads and bodies are in steel,--all but +one, a middle-aged man with gray in his beard. He has no armour on, but +he leads the others. Body of Satan! you should see him clear the ground +about him. He thrusts in all directions at once: his sword is as long as +a man, and it darts as quickly as the tongue of a snake. Ha! it has just +cut down old Cricharde.--And now it has stung Galparoux.--Holy +Beelzebub, what a man! He fights like a fiend, and all the time with a +gay face as if he were at his sport.--Ah! there he has let daylight into +poor Boirac.--But now--good!--at last our Captain has planted himself in +front of this devil: it was high time: he will find his match now. By +God, it will be worth looking at, the fight between the red Captain and +this stranger,--there aren't two such men in France. They are taking +each other's measure now,--each one sees what sort of stuff he has run +against. Ah!" + +What the last exclamation meant, I could not know. The man's attention +had become too close for further speech. But I supposed that a pass had +been made between my father and the red Captain, and that it had been +nothing decisive, for the watcher's interest continued at the extreme +tension: he kept his face against the iron bars of the window, and made +no sound beyond frequent short ejaculations. The men in the passage +called to him for further news, but he did not heed them. To my ears the +fighting continued as general as before, with the shouts of many throats +and the clash of many weapons, so that I could not at all distinguish +the single combat between my father and the red Captain from the rest of +the fray. + +Presently the man gave a howl of rage. "Our Captain is being forced +back!" he cried. "We are getting the worst of the fight everywhere. It's +too much!--we are needed down there! To the devil with orders!--the +Captain will be glad enough if we turn the tide. And we'd better try our +luck down there than be taken here, for short time they'll give us for +prayers, my children." While speaking he had moved from the window to my +door. + +"Certainly this prisoner is safe enough," answered one of the men, +whereupon he and the others in the passage ran down the stairs. + +But the man who had been at the window turned to me. "Safe enough,--yes, +so it looks," said he. "Young man, the Captain must think you a +magician, to take so much pains against your escaping. If it came to the +worst, I was to kill you, and the time seems to have arrived: so, if +you'll pardon me--" + +"You will be a great fool," said I, as he approached with his sword +drawn; "for if you are taken alive my intervention will save your neck." + +"How do you know it will?" + +"By the fact that the gentleman down there whose fighting you so admire +is my father." + +"Indeed? You are a gentleman: do you give your word of honour for that?" + +"Yes; and to speak for you if I am alive when your side is finally +defeated." + +"Very good, Monsieur. I will hold you to that." Upon this he left me and +followed his comrades down the stairs. + +His footfalls had scarcely ceased upon the stairway, when other sounds +began to come from the same direction,--those of conflict in the +entrance hall below. Somebody had drawn his antagonist, or been forced +by him, into the house. There was the quick, irregular stamp of booted +feet on the stone floor, the keen music of sword striking sword. If the +fight spread generally into the house, and the defenders fled to the +upper rooms, my position must become more critical. So I listened rather +to this noise in the hallway than to the tumult in the court-yard. By +the sound of the steel coming nearer, and that of the footfalls changing +somewhat, I presently knew that one of the fighters had sought the +vantage--or disadvantage--of the staircase. But the other evidently +pushed him hard, for soon both combatants had reached the landing at the +turn of the stairs, as was manifest from a sudden increase of their +noise in my ears. I could now hear their short ejaculations as well as +the other sounds. They continued to approach: I listened for a stumble +on the stairs, to be followed by a death-cry: but these men were +apparently heedful as to their steps, and finally they were both upon +the level footing of the passage outside my room. I wondered if this +fight would be over before it could be opposite my doorway. In a few +moments I was answered. Into my narrow view came the large figure of the +red Captain, without a doublet, his muscular arms bare, his shirt open +and soaked with perspiration, his upper body heaving rapidly as he +breathed, his face streaming, his eyes fixed upon the enemy whose swift +rapier he parried with wonderful skill. The light of evening was dim in +the passage, and perhaps for that reason the Captain backed into my +room. His adversary followed instantly. + +"Father!" I cried, as the Sieur de la Tournoire appeared in the doorway: +in my emotion I thought not how I endangered him by distracting his +attention. + +But he was not to be thrown off his guard. He moved his head a little to +the side, so as to catch a glimpse of me behind the Captain, but this +did not prevent his adroitly turning a quick thrust which his enemy made +on the instant of my cry. + +"Hola, Henri!" said my father, with perfect calmness except for his +quickness of breath. "What the devil are you doing here?" + +"Sitting chained to the floor," I replied. + +At this the Captain suddenly leaped back almost to where I was, and I +suppose his intention was to place himself eventually where he would +have me between him and my father and could kill me without ceasing to +face the latter. But he may have considered an attempt to pass over me +as unsafe for his subsequent footing, and so his next movement was +sidewise: my father, following close, gave him work every moment. The +Captain again stepping backward, I was now at his right and a little in +front, so that, if he could gain but a spare second, he could send a +finishing thrust my way. With my head turned so as to keep my eyes upon +him, I could see by his look that he was determined not to risk my +outliving him. + +My father, too busy in meeting the Captain's lunges, and in trying what +thrust might elude his defence, thought best to expend no more breath in +talk with me, and so the fighting went on without words. Suppose, +thought I, my father kills the Captain but the Captain first kills me? +Had I not better now tell my father to seek the Tower of Morlon and +release a person confined there? But if I did that, the Captain would +hear, and suppose he killed my father as well as me! I held my tongue. + +The Captain now maintained his position, neither giving ground nor +pressing forward. The two combatants were between me and the window, +through which still came sounds of struggle from the yard below. But +these sounds were fewer, except those of cheers, which grew more +frequent. + +"Good! Our friends are gaining the day!" said my father to me. + +"But you, Messieurs, shall not crow over it!" cried the Captain, and +made a long thrust, as swift as lightning. My father caught it on the +guard of his hilt, within short distance of his breast, at the same +instant stepping back. The Captain did not follow, but darted his sword +at me, with the cry, "Not for you the Countess!" I contracted my body +and thought myself done for. My father's impulsive forward movement, +however, disconcerted the Captain's arm in the very moment of his lunge, +and his point but feebly stung my side and flew back again, his guard +recovered none too soon to save himself. My father's thrusts became now +so quick and continuous that the Captain fell back to gain breath. My +father drove him to the wall. Shouting a curse, the Captain thrust for +my father's midriff. My father, with a swift movement, received the +sword between his arm and body, and at the same instant ran his own +rapier into the Captain's unguarded front, pushed it through his lung, +and pinned him to the wall. + +[Illustration: "MY FATHER'S THRUSTS BECAME NOW SO QUICK AND +CONTINUOUS."] + +The Captain's arms dropped, his head hung forward, and as soon as the +sword was drawn out, he tumbled lifeless to the floor. + +My father leaned against the wall till he regained a little breath and +energy; then he wiped his brow and sword, and came over to me. + +"How have they got you trussed up?" he asked. "And how came you into +their hands?--I should be amazed to find you here, if I hadn't seen +stranger things before now." + +While he cut the cords that bound my ankles and wrists, I told him how I +had been waylaid. "I was going with food and wine to a friend who lies +locked in a deserted tower called Morlon. She is ill to death, and may +now be dead for lack of food and air to keep up her strength. I must go +to her--" + +"A woman, then?" + +"Yes, a lady: I will tell you all, but there is no time to lose now. The +tower is in this forest. I must find my way there at once." + +"Patience, a moment," said my father. "Your chain is locked, I see:--but +no matter,--I can loosen it so that you can wriggle through." By having +cut the cords, around which the chain had been passed, he had relieved +the tautness, and was now able to do what he promised. He then took off +my boots, and, grasping me under the arms, drew me backward out of the +loosened coils as I moved them downward with my hands. At last I stood a +free man. I put on my boots, took the Captain's sword, and accompanied +my father down into the court-yard. + +The fight was now over there. Of the royal guardsmen, all in steel caps +and corselets, like the small party of them I had seen the previous +evening, some were wiping their faces and swords, and others were caring +for the hurts of comrades. Some of the robbers lay dead, several were +wounded, and the rest, having yielded their weapons, were looking after +their own disabled, under the direction of guardsmen. I recognized a +number of the rascals as men I had seen at the Chateau de Lavardin. The +commander of the troop of guards, he whom I had met before and whose +vigorous voice I had recognized, greeted my father with a look of +congratulation, and showed surprise at seeing me. + +"Tis a day of events," said my father. "I have killed the Count's +accomplice, and found my son.--Nay, there was no hope of that Captain's +surrendering." + +"My faith!--then your two quests are accomplished at the same moment," +said the leader of the guardsmen. "And, for another wonder, your son +turns out to be a person I have already met. But your friend, Monsieur?" +This inquiry was to me, and made with sudden solicitude. + +"Locked in the tower of Morlon, waiting for me to come with +food,--perhaps dying or dead.--Monsieur, I was brought here blindfold: +but I must find the way back to the tower of Morlon without delay,--it +is somewhere in this forest." + +"No doubt some of these gentry know the way," said the guardsman, +indicating the robbers. "We'll make it a condition of his life for one +of them to guide us." + +"You make me your life-long debtor, Monsieur," I cried. "And one of them +has the key: I think it is he lying yonder. As for food and wine--" + +"We are not without those," said the guardsman. "Our horses and supplies +are near at hand." + +I went among the dead and wounded to find the man who had taken +possession of my keys. Him I found, but the keys were not upon him. +Supposing he had given them to his master, I ran upstairs and examined +the pockets of the Captain, but in vain. Where to look next I knew not, +so I returned to the court-yard and made known my unsuccess. + +"Tut!" said my father; "a door is but a door, and we can break down that +of your tower as we broke down this gate. This gentleman"--meaning the +leader of the guardsmen--"has most courteously offered to accompany us, +with part of his noble troop, and he has chosen a guide from among the +prisoners." + +"Ay, they all know the tower," said the guardsman, "but this fellow +appears the most sensible.--Now, my man, how long will it take us, your +comrades bearing the pine trunk with which we rammed this gate, to reach +the tower of Morlon?" + +"Two hours, Monsieur, I should say," replied the robber. + +"It is too much," said the guardsman. "You will lead us thither in an +hour at the utmost, or at the end of the hour you shall hang to the tree +I then happen to be under." He thereupon gave orders to the guardsmen, +and to the prisoners. As night would overtake us in the forest, he had a +brief search made of the outhouses, and a number of dry pine sticks were +found, to serve as torches. Our party was to go mounted, except the +robbers impressed to carry the battering ram: so I went to the stalls at +one side of the yard, and found my own horse, chewing hay in fraternal +companionship with the animals which had doubtless brought Captain +Ferragant and his men from Lavardin. + +As I led out my horse, I suddenly bethought me of the man for whose life +I had promised to speak. During the final preparations for our start, I +looked again among the robbers, wondering why this man had not forced +himself upon my attention. But I soon found the reason: he lay on his +side, and when I turned him over I saw he was pierced between two ribs +and had no life left to plead for. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +THE MOUSTACHES OF BRIGNAN DE BRIGNAN + + +My father, the leader of the guardsmen, and several of his men walked, +while I rode, to the nearby edge of encircling woods, the defeated +robbers bearing the young tree-trunk. Here my father and the guardsmen +mounted, their horses having been tied to the trees. A pair of panniers +containing wine, bread, and cold meat, was placed across my father's +horse, a very strong animal, and, torches being lighted, we proceeded +through the forest. The guide led, being attached to a halter, of which +the commander of the guardsmen held the loose end. After the commander, +my father and I came, and behind us the burdened prisoners, who were +flanked and followed by the other guardsmen. + +On the way, I told my father who it was that lay in the tower, and gave +him a brief account of my whole adventure at Lavardin and in the forest. +He applauded my conduct, though counselling me in future to look well +before I leaped; and he approved of my offer to the Countess of the +hospitality of La Tournoire. + +"But what still makes me wonder," said I, "is that you should have found +me here, so far from Paris, whither you knew I was bound, and from +Vendome, whither Nicolas must have told you I was going." + +"But in truth my being here is very simple," said he. "As soon as +Nicolas came back to La Tournoire with your message the day after you +set out, I started for Paris to solicit your pardon for the affair at La +Flèche. Six days later I presented myself to the Duke de Sully, who +immediately took me for an audience of the King. There was a deal of +talk about the scandalous disregard of the edict against duels, the +great quantity of good blood wasted almost every day, the too frequent +granting of pardons, and all that. But in the end Henri would not refuse +me, and I have your pardon now in my pocket. But you must not be rash +another time: I promised for you, and assured the King you were no +fire-eater and had received great provocation." + +"Trust me to be prudent," said I. + +"Good! As you had not yet arrived in Paris," continued my father, "I +supposed you had been delayed at Vendome, whither, as you say, Nicolas +told me you were going. So I thought I would start for home by way of +Vendome, as you might still be there and perhaps in some scrape or +other, or I might meet you on the road between there and Paris. I stayed +overnight in Paris, as the Duke had invited me to wait upon him the next +day. I went and was very well received. As I was about to take my leave, +I mentioned that I was going to travel by Vendome. 'Ah,' said the Duke, +'then, if you wish, you may take a hand in a little affair which will be +like an echo of the old busy days.' I opened my eyes at this, and the +Duke told me that evidence had just been brought by one of his spies, +which warranted the arrest of a powerful malcontent in the neighbourhood +of Vendome, who had long been under suspicion,--in short, the Count de +Lavardin. A party of royal guards was about to be sent off at once to +take him in his chateau at Montoire, four leagues beyond Vendome, and I +might go with them as a volunteer, or in any case I might have their +company on my journey. I was quite ready for any affair that had a taste +of the old service in it, especially as these treasonable great lords +sometimes make a stout resistance in their chateaux. And so I had the +honour of being introduced to these gentlemen and becoming for the time +their comrade. That same afternoon I set out with them for Montoire, and +we arrived there last Sunday." + +"Ah! you must have passed through Vendome while we were in seclusion +there." + +"No doubt. That Count's business had to be attended to before he got +wind of our arrival, and so there was no time for inquiring about you at +Vendome. We came upon the Count and a party of attendants in the road, +not a quarter of a league from his chateau. As we heard at the chateau +afterwards, he had been searching the roads far and wide for his wife, +who had fled from his cruelties. He had the daring to resist arrest, and +there was some fighting, in which he was killed. It appears that the +fight and his fall were seen by watchers from the tower of his chateau, +and before we could arrive at that place his accomplice, this Captain +Ferragant, who was in the chateau at the time, made his escape. As soon +as we got to the chateau, we heard of this, and, as the Captain also was +wanted, there was nothing to do but give chase. A few of the guardsmen +were left to hold the chateau in the King's name, and the rest of us, +with no more than a sup and a bite, made off after this Captain. He had +so many followers with him, that he was not difficult to trace, and for +two days we kept his track, until we lost it at the edge of this forest. +From what we learned at Chateaudun, we guessed that his refuge was +somewhere in the forest. That was yesterday afternoon: we at once broke +up into small parties to search the forest, planning to reunite at a +chosen place to-day at noon." + +"It was one of those parties that saved the Countess from the robbers," +said I gratefully. + +"Ay, and there your story crosses mine. As for the ruffians who attacked +the Countess, they escaped without affording a clue to the Captain's +whereabouts,--for doubtless they were of his band, though this was not +certain. When our parties met to-day, one of them brought a forester who +offered to show the way to the Captain's hiding-place if he were allowed +to leave before coming in sight of it. We made full preparations, and +you know the rest. At first we thought our forester had fooled us, and +that the place we had come to was what it appeared, a solitary farmstead +in a clearing of the forest. But in such a case, it is always best to +make sure, and faith, that is what we did. So you see I chanced to find +you all the sooner for not having had time to look for you. But indeed +it was a timely meeting." + +In about an hour after the time of starting, we came to a clear space, +in the midst of which was the tower we sought. We could see it by the +starlight before we drew near with our torches. We all dismounted, and +with a fast-beating heart, I found the door. It was still locked. +Listening at the key-hole, I could hear no sound. I called out, "Louis!" +thinking she would understand I had company to whom her sex need not be +known. I wished to warn her of our assault upon the door, so that she +might stay clear of danger thereby. But no answer came, though I called +several times. I was now in great fear lest she had died. My father, who +read my feelings in my face, suggested that she might have fallen into +very deep unconsciousness, and that the best thing to do was to break in +the door forthwith, as carefully as possible, trusting she might not be +where there was chance of anything striking. As the place where I had +left her lying was not opposite the door, and there was no reason to +suppose she had chosen another, I gave up the attempt to warn her, and +without further loss of time we made ready to attack the door. All the +men in the party, both guardsmen and prisoners, laid hold of the +tree-trunk, by means of halters and ropes fastened around it, my father +and I placing ourselves at the head. The commander of the guardsmen, who +was immediately behind me, called out the orders by which we moved in +unison. Starting from a short distance, we ran straight for the tower, +and swung the tree forward against the door at the moment of stopping. A +most violent shock was produced, but the lock and hinges still held. We +repeated this operation twice. Upon our third charge, the door flew +inward. Leaving the trunk to the others, I hastened into the dark, close +basement, and groped my way to where I had left the Countess. + +"Madame!--Louis!" I called softly, feeling about in the darkness. + +A weak voice answered,--a voice like that of one just wakened from +profound sleep: + +"Henri, is it you?--Mon dieu, I am so glad!--I feared some evil had +befallen you." + +"Ah, Louis, you are living,--thank God!" + +"Living, yes: I have been asleep. Once I awoke, and wondered why you bad +not returned. I prayed for you, and then I must have slept again. But +what was it awakened me?--was there not a loud noise before I heard your +voice?--Who are those men at the door with torches?" + +I introduced my father, who, regarding her in the torchlight, and +showing as tender a solicitude as a woman's, soon came to the conclusion +that her state was no worse than one of extreme weakness for want of +food and fresh air. He carried her out, laid her tenderly on a cloak, +and administered such food and wine as were good for her. She submitted +with the docility and trust of a child. + +Leaving her for awhile, my father and I consulted with the leader of the +guardsmen, and it was decided that the Countess, my father, and I should +pass the night at the tower, the weather being warm and clear. The +guardsmen would return with their prisoners to the scene of their recent +battle, where much was to be put to rights. On the morrow they would +rejoin us, and we should all proceed to Bonneval, where my father's +deposition could be added to the report which the leader of the +arresting party would have to deliver in Paris in lieu of the Count and +Captain themselves. + +I could not let the leader go, even for the night, without expressing +the gratitude under which I must ever feel to him, for, though he was +still ignorant of the identity of the Countess, there was no concealing +from him that the supposed youth was a person very near my heart. + +"Pouf!" said he, in his manly way; "'tis all chance. I have done nothing +for you, but if I had done much I should have been repaid already in the +acquaintance of Monsieur de la Tournoire." + +"A truce to flattery," said my father. "It is I who am the gainer by the +acquaintance of Monsieur Brignan de Brignan." + +"Eh! Brignan de Brignan!" I echoed. + +"That is this gentleman's name," said my father, wondering at my +surprise. "Have we been so busy that I have not properly made you known +to him before?" + +I gazed at the gentleman's moustaches: they were indeed rather longer +than the ordinary. He, too, looked his astonishment at the effect of his +name upon me. + +"Pardon me, Monsieur," said I. "I have been staring like a rustic. I owe +you an explanation of my ill manners. I will give it frankly: it may +provide you with laughter. What I am now, I know not, but three weeks +ago I was a fool." I then told him how I had been taunted by a young +lady, whose name I did not mention, and with what particular object I +had so recently started for Paris. This was news to my father also, who +laughed without restraint. Brignan de Brignan, though certainly amused, +kept his mirth within bounds, and replied: + +"Faith. I know not any young lady in your part of France who has a right +to glory in my personal appearance, even if I were an Apollo,--who, by +the way, is not represented with moustaches. But I believe I know who +this girl may be,--I have met such a one in Paris, and avoided her as a +pert little minx. As for your folly, as you call it, it was no more +foolish than many a thing I have done." + +He had the breeding not to add, "At your age," and I loved him for that. +He and his men now set out upon their return to the farmstead, and my +father and I, after devising a more comfortable couch for the Countess +just within the open doorway of the tower, slept and watched by turns +outside. + +In the morning the Countess, partaking of more food, was in better +strength and spirits, and had the curiosity to ask how my father came to +be there. In telling her, I broke the news of the Count's death. For a +moment she was startled, and then pity showed itself in her eyes and +words,--pity for the man who had been swayed by such passions and +delusions, and who had died in his sin with none else to shed a tear for +him. The Captain's death, of which I next informed her, did not move her +as much. + +The turn of affairs caused a change of plan. She now resolved (as I had +foreseen) to return to Lavardin and do such honour to her husband's +memory as she might. Though his estates would probably, in all the +circumstances, be adjudged forfeit to the Crown, some provision would +doubtless be made for his widow. In any case, she might be sure of every +courtesy from the officer in command of the guardsmen now occupying the +chateau for the King, and there were certain jewels, apparel, and other +possessions of her own which could not be withheld from her. + +In the afternoon, when Brignan de Brignan and his comrades reappeared, +the Countess was able to ride: and that evening we were all in Bonneval. +Monsieur de Brignan had taken possession of several things found in an +iron-bound chest where Captain Ferragant had kept his treasures. Among +others were two papers stolen from me by the robbers,--the incriminating +fragment of a letter to the Count, and the note from the Countess which +I had found upon Monsieur de Merri. The former I destroyed, at the fire +in the inn kitchen: the latter I kept, and keep to this day. Besides +these, there were my purse; a quantity of gold, out of which I repaid +myself the amount I had been robbed of; and the two keys, which I +subsequently restored to the Chateau de Lavardin, whence they had come. + +We stayed the night at Bonneval. The next day the guardsmen started for +Paris, and our party of three for Montoire. As I took my leave of +Brignan de Brignan before the inn gate, I noticed that his moustaches +had undergone a diminution: indeed they now extended no further than his +lips. I supposed he had decided not to be distinguished by such marks +again. He expressed a hope of renewing acquaintance with me in Paris, +and rode off. The Countess, my father, and I turned our faces toward +Montoire, the Countess being now once more on Hugues's horse, which I +had left for a time at Bonneval. We had not gone very far, when a man +galloped after us, handed me a packet, and rode back as hastily as he +had come. I had scarce time to recognize him as a valet attached to the +party of guardsmen. + +I opened the packet, and found a piece of paper, to which two wisps of +hair were fastened by a thread, and on which was written in a large, +dashing hand: + +"_Behold my moustaches. Brignan de Brignan._" + +And so, after all, I might keep my promise to Mlle. Celeste! + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +AFTERWARDS + + +Two days later we arrived at Hugues's house, and were received with +great joy by him and Mathilde. Here the Countess, now happily improved +in health, resumed the attire of her sex, which she had there put off. +My father then accompanied her to the Chateau de Lavardin, and made her +known to the guardsman in command, by whom she was treated with the +utmost consideration. With Mathilde to attend her, she remained a few +days at the chateau, and then removed with her personal possessions to +the house of Hugues, whose marriage to Mathilde was no longer delayed. + +But meanwhile my father and I stayed only a day at Montoire, lodging at +the inn there. I did not go to the chateau, but my father took thither +the two keys, and brought away my sword and dagger, which had been +hanging undisturbed in the hall. My farewell to the Countess was spoken +in front of Hugues's gate when she started thence for the chateau, and +not much was said, for my father and Hugues were there, as well as +Mathilde, and the horses were waiting. But something was looked, and +never did I cease to carry in my heart the tender and solicitous +expression of her sweet eyes as they rested on me for a silent moment +ere she turned away. + +My father and I, on our homeward journey, stopped at La Flèche and +ascertained that Monsieur de Merri's relations had learned of his fate +and taken all care for the repose of his body and soul. It appeared that +he lived at Orleans, and was used to visit cousins in Brittany: thus, +then, had he chanced to stop at Montoire and fall in with the Count de +Lavardin. Alas! poor young gentleman! + +And now we arrived home, to the great relief of my mother; and Blaise +Tripault would hardly speak to my father or me, for envy of the +adventures we had passed through without him. But he spread great +reports of what I had done,--or rather what I had not done, for he made +me a chief hero in the destruction of the band of robbers. But this +unmerited fame scarcely annoyed me at all, for my thoughts were +elsewhere, and I was restless and melancholy. In a few days I resolved +to go to Paris,--by way of Montoire. But before I started, I took a walk +one fine afternoon along the stream that bounded our estate: and, as I +had expected, there was Mlle. Celeste on the other side, with her drowsy +old guardian. She blushed and looked embarrassed, and I wondered why I +had ever thought her charming. Her self-confidence returned in a moment, +and she greeted me with her old sauciness, though it seemed a trifle +forced: + +"Ah, Monsieur, so you have come back without going to Paris after all, I +hear." + +"Yes, Mademoiselle," I answered coldly. "But I have taken your advice +and looked a little into the eyes of danger; and I find it does make a +difference in one." + +"Oh, yes: I believe you fought a duel, and were present when some +highway robbers were taken; and now you have come back to rest on your +laurels." + +"No; I came back to give you these, as I promised." And I threw her the +packet containing the moustaches of Brignan de Brignan. She opened it, +and regarded the contents with amazement. I laughed. + +She looked at me now with real wonder, and I perceived I had grown +several inches in her estimation. + +"But don't think I took them against his will," said I. "I admit I never +could have done that. He gave me them in jest, and the proudest claim I +can make in regard to him is that he honours me with his friendship. +Good day, Mademoiselle." + +I came away, leaving her surprised and discomfited, for which I was not +sorry. She had expected to find me still her slave, and to expend her +pertness on me as before: though she might have known that if danger +would make a man of me, it would give me a man's eyes to see the +difference between a real woman and a scornful miss. + +I went to Paris, careful this time to avoid conflict with bold-speaking +young gentlemen at inns; and on the way I had one precious hour at +Hugues's house, wherein--upon his marriage to Mathilde--the Countess had +established herself, to the wonder of all who heard of it. She continued +to lodge there, her affairs turning out so that she was able to repay +Hugues liberally. She occupied herself in good works for the poor about +Montoire, and so two years passed, each day making her happier and more +beautiful. Many times I went between La Tournoire and Paris,--always by +way of Montoire. In Paris I saw much of Brignan de Brignan, whose +moustaches had soon grown back to their old magnitude. And one day whom +should I meet in the Rue St. Honoré but that excellent spy of Sully's, +Monsieur de Pepicot? + +I begged him to come into a tavern. "There is something you owe me," +said I, when we were seated; "an account of how you got out of the +Chateau de Lavardin that night without leaving any trace." + +"It was nothing," said the long-nosed man meekly. "I found an empty room +with a mullioned window, on the floor beneath ours, and let myself down +to the terrace with a knotted rope I had brought in my portmanteau." + +"But I never heard that any rope was found." + +"I had passed it round the inside of the window-mullion and lowered both +ends to the ground, attached to my portmanteau. In descending I kept +hold of both parts. When I was down, I had only to release one part and +pull the rope after me. I found a gardener's tool-shed, and in it some +poles for trellis-work. I placed two of these side by side against the +garden wall, at the postern door, and managed to clamber to the top." + +"But I heard of nothing being found against the wall." + +"Oh, I drew the poles up after me, and also my portmanteau, by means of +the rope, which I had fastened to them and to my waist. I let them down +to a plank which crossed the moat there, as I had observed before ever +entering the chateau. I dropped after them, and was lucky enough to +avoid falling into the moat. I hid the poles among the bushes: not that +it mattered, but I thought it would amuse the Count to conjecture how I +had got away. One likes to give people something to think of.--As for my +horse, I had seen to it that he was kept in an unlocked penthouse.--Ah, +well! that Count thought he was a great chess-player." And Monsieur de +Pepicot smiled faintly and shook his head. + +At the prospect of war, I joined the army assembling at Chalons, but the +lamentable murder of the King put an end to his great plans, and I +resumed my former way, swinging like a pendulum between Paris and La +Tournoire. One soft, pink evening in the second summer after my +adventure at Lavardin, I was privileged to walk alone with the Countess +in the meadows behind Hugues's mill. Health and serenity had raised her +beauty to perfection, and there was no trace of her sorrows but the +humble dignity and brave gentleness of her look and manner. + +"You are the loveliest woman in the world," I said, without any sort of +warning. "Ah, Louise--surely I may call you that now--how I adore you! I +cannot any longer keep back what is in my heart. See yonder where the +sun has set--that is where La Tournoire is. It seems to beckon us--not +me alone, but us--together. When will you come?--when may I take you to +my father and mother, and hear them say I could not have found a sweeter +wife in all France?" + +Trembling, she raised her moist eyes to mine, and said in a voice like a +low sigh: + +"Ah, Henri, if it were possible! But you forget the barrier: we are not +of the same religion. I know your mother changed her faith for your +father's sake; but I could never do so." + +"But what if I changed for your sake?" I said, taking her hand. + +"Henri! will you do that?" she cried, with a joy that told all I wished +to know. + +In truth, I had often thought of going over to the national form of +worship. As soon, therefore, as I got to La Tournoire after this +meeting, I opened the matter to my father. + +"Why," said he, "I think it a sensible resolve. The times are changed; +since King Henri's death, there is no longer any hope of us Huguenots +maintaining a balance. As a party, we have done our work, and are doomed +to pass away. Those who persist will only keep up a division in the +nation, from which they can gain nothing, and which will be a source of +useless troubles. As for the religious side of the question, some people +prefer artificial forms of expression, some do not. It is a matter of +externals: and if one must needs subscribe to a few doctrines he does +not believe, who is harmed by that? These things are much to women, and +we, to whom they are less, can afford to yield. I often fancy your +mother would like to go back to the faith of her childhood,--and if she +ever expresses the wish, I will not hinder her. When I married her, all +was different: I could not have become a Catholic then. Nor indeed can I +do so now. Blaise Tripault and I are too old for new tricks: we must not +change our colours at this late day: we are survivals from a bygone +state of things. But you, my son, belong to a new France. Our great +Henri said. 'Surely Paris is worth a mass': and I dare say this lady is +as much to you as Paris was to him." + +So the Church gained a convert and I a wife. Hugues and Mathilde came to +live on our estate. And Mlle. Celeste, in course of time, was married to +a raw young Gascon as lean as a lath, as poor as a fiddler, and as +thirsty as a Dutchman, but with moustaches twice as long as those of +Brignan de Brignan. + + +THE END. + + + + +Works of Robert Neilson Stephens + + + An Enemy to the King + + The Continental Dragoon + + The Road to Paris + + A Gentleman Player + + Philip Winwood + + Captain Ravenshaw + + The Mystery of Murray Davenport + + The Bright Face of Danger + + + + +L. C. Page and Company + + +The Mystery of Murray Davenport. + +By ROBERT NEILSON STEPHENS, author of "An Enemy to the King," "Philip +Winwood," etc. + +In his latest novel, Mr. Stephens has made a radical departure from the +themes of his previous successes. Turning from past days and distant +scenes, he has taken up American life of to-day as his new field, +therein proving himself equally capable. Original in its conception, +striking in its psychologic interest, and with a most perplexing love +problem, "The Mystery of Murray Davenport" is the most vital and +absorbing of all Mr. Stephens's novels, and will add not a little to his +reputation. + +"This is easily the best thing that Mr. Stephens has yet done. Those +familiar with his other novels can best judge the measure of this +praise, which is generous."--_Buffalo News._ + +"Mr. Stephens won a host of friends through his earlier volumes, but we +think he will do still better work in his new field if the present +volume is a criterion."--_N. Y. Com. Advertiser._ + + +The Daughter of the Dawn. + +By R. HODDER. + + +This is a powerful story of adventure and mystery, its scene New +Zealand. In sustained interest and novel plot, it recalls Rider +Haggard's "King Solomon's Mines," and "She" but the reader will find an +added interest due to the apparent reality with which the author +succeeds in investing the sensational incidents of his plot. + + +The Spoilsmen. + +By ELLIOTT FLOWER, author of "Policeman Flynn," etc. + +This is a story of municipal politics, depicting conditions common to +practically all large cities. The political methods employed, however, +are in most instances taken from the actual experiences of men who have +served the public in some capacity or other, and the stories told of +some of the characters are literally true. The love interest centres +around a girl of high ideals, who inspires a wealthy young man to enter +the local campaign. + +"The best one may hear of 'The Spoilsmen' will be none too good. As a +wide-awake, snappy, brilliant political story it has few equals, its +title-page being stamped with that elusive mark, 'success.' One should +not miss a word of a book like this at a time like this and in a world +of politics like this."--_Boston Transcript._ + +"...It ought to do good. The world of municipal politics is put before +the reader in a striking and truthful manner; and the sources of evil +that afflict the government of our cities are laid bare in a manner that +should arrest the attention of every honest man who wishes to purge and +cleanse our local governments. It illustrates, too, very forcibly, how +difficult a work it is to accomplish such municipal reform, and how +useless it is to attempt it without united and persistent effort on the +part of those who should be most interested."--_Grover Cleveland._ + + +A Daughter of Thespis. + +By JOHN D. BARRY, author of "The Intriguers," "Mademoiselle Blanche," +etc. + +The author's experiences as a dramatic critic have enabled him to write +with authority on the ever fascinating theme of stage life. From "the +front," in the wings, and on the boards--from all these varying points +of view, is told this latest story of player folk--an absorbing tale. + +"This story of the experiences of Evelyn Johnson, actress, may be +praised just because it is so true and so wholly free from melodrama and +the claptrap which we have come to think inseparable from any narrative +which has to do with theatrical experiences."--_Professor Harry Thurston +Peck, of Columbia University._ + + +Prince Hagen. + +By UPTON SINCLAIR, author of "King Midas," etc. + +In this book, Mr. Sinclair has written a satire of the first order--one +worthy to be compared with Swift's biting tirades against the follies +and abuses of mankind. + +The scheme of the book is as delightful as it is original--Prince Hagen, +son of that Hagen who killed Siegfried, grandson of Alberich, King of +the Nibelungs, comes to this earth from Nibelheim, for a completion of +his education, and it is the effect of our modern morality on a +brilliant and unscrupulous mind which forms the basis of Mr. Sinclair's +story. Prince Hagen's first exploits are at school; then in the thick of +New York's corrupt politics as a boss. Later, after he has inherited the +untold wealth of the Nibelungs, he tastes the society life of the +metropolis. + +As a story simply, the book is thoroughly entertaining, with a climax of +surprising power; but, as a satire, it will live. + + +Earth's Enigmas. + +By CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS, author of "The Kindred of the Wild," "The +Heart of the Ancient Wood," etc. + +"It will rank high among collections of short stories.... His prose art, +too, has reached a high degree of perfection.... In 'Earth's Enigmas' is +a wider range of subject than in the 'Kindred of the Wild.'"--_Review +from advance sheets of the illustrated edition by Tiffany Blake in the +Chicago Evening Post._ + +"Throughout the volume runs that subtle questioning of the cruel, +predatory side of nature which suggests the general title of the book. +In certain cases it is the picture of savage nature ravening for +food--for death to preserve life; in others it is the secret symbolism +of woods and waters prophesying of evils and misadventures to come. All +this does not mean, however, that Mr. Roberts is either pessimistic or +morbid--it is nature in his books after all, wholesome in her cruel +moods as in her tender."--_The New York Independent._ + + +The Silent Maid. + +By FREDERIC W. PANGBORN. + + +A dainty and delicate legend of the brave days of old, of sprites and +pixies, of trolls and gnomes, of ruthless barons and noble knights. "The +Silent Maid" herself, with her strange bewitchment and wondrous song, is +equalled only by Undine in charm and mystery. The tale is told in that +quaint diction which chronicles "The Forest Lovers," and in which Mr. +Pangborn, although a new and hitherto undiscovered writer, is no less an +artist than Mr. Hewlett. + + +The Golden Kingdom. + +By ANDREW BALFOUR, author of "Vengeance is Mine," "To Arms!" etc. + + +This is a story of adventure on land and sea, beginning in England, and +ending in South Africa, in the last days of the seventeenth century. The +scheme of the tale at once puts the reader in mind of Stevenson's +"Treasure Island," and with that augury of a good story, he at once +continues from the mysterious advent of Corkran the Coxswain into the +quiet English village, through scenes of riot, slave-trading, shipwreck, +and savages to the end of all in the "Golden Kingdom" with its strange +denizens. The character of Jacob the Blacksmith, big of body and bigger +of heart, ever ready in time of peril, will alone hold his attention +with a strong grip. + + +The Promotion of the Admiral. + +By MORLEY ROBERTS, author of "The Colossus," "The Fugitives," "Sons of +Empire," etc. + + +We consider ourselves fortunate in being able to announce this latest +novel by Mr. Morley Roberts, who has such a wide circle of readers and +admirers. This volume contains half a dozen stories of sea life,--fresh, +racy, and bracing,--some humorous, some thrilling, all laid in +America,--a new field for Mr. Roberts,--and introduces a unique +creation, "Shanghai Smith," of "'Frisco," kidnapper of seamen, whose +calling and adventures have already interested and amused all readers of +_The Philadelphia Saturday Evening Post_. + + +The Schemers. + +A TALE OF MODERN LIFE. + +By EDWARD F. HARKINS, author of "Little Pilgrimages Among the Men Who +Have Written Famous Books," etc. + + +A story of a new and real phase of social life in Boston, skilfully and +daringly handled. There is plenty of life and color abounding, and a +diversity of characters--shop-girls, society belles, men about town, +city politicians, and others. The various schemers and their schemes +will be followed with interest--and there will be some discerning +readers who may claim to recognize in certain points of the story +certain recent happenings in the shopping and the society circles of the +Hub. + + +The Captain's Wife. + +By W. CLARK RUSSELL, author of "The Wreck of the Grosvenor," "The Mate +of the Good Ship York,"' etc. + + +The customary epithets applied to nautical fiction are quite +incommensurate with the excellence of Mr. Clark Russell's narrative +powers, and these are thoroughly at their best in "The Captain's Wife." +"The Captain's Wife" is the story of a voyage, and its romantic interest +hinges on the stratagem of the captain's newly wedded wife in order to +accompany him on his expedition for the salvage of a valuable wreck. The +plot thickens so gradually that a less competent novelist would be in +danger of letting the reader's attention slip. But the climax of +Benson's conspiracy to remove the captain, and carry off the wife, to +whom his lawless passion aspires, is invested with the keenest +excitement. + + +The Story of the Foss River Ranch. + +By RIDGWELL CULLOM. + + +The scene of this story is laid in Canada, not in one of the great +cities, but in that undeveloped section of the great Northwest where +to-day scenes are being enacted similar to those enacted fifty years ago +during the settlement of the great American West. The story is intense, +with a sustained and well-developed plot, and will thus appeal to the +reading public. + + +The Interference of Patricia. + +By LILIAN BELL, author of "Hope Loring," "Abroad with the Jimmies," etc. +With a frontispiece from drawing by Frank T. Merrill. + + +This story adds not a little to the author's reputation as a teller of +clever tales. It is of the social life of to-day in Denver--that city of +gold and ozone--and deals of that burg's peculiarities with a keen and +flashing satire. The character of the heroine, Patricia, will hold the +reader by its power and brilliancy. Impetuous, capricious, and wayward, +with a dominating personality and spirit, she is at first a careless +girl, then develops into a loyal and loving woman, whose interference +saves the honor of both her father and lover. The love theme is in the +author's best vein, the character sketches of the magnates of Denver are +amusing and trenchant, and the episodes of the plot are convincing, +sincere, and impressive. + + +A Book Of Girls. + +By LILIAN BELL, author of "Hope Loring," "Abroad with the Jimmies," etc. +With a frontispiece. + + +It is quite universally recognized that Lilian Bell has done for the +American girl in fiction what Gibson has done for her in art--that +Lilian Bell has crystallized into a distinct type all the peculiar +qualities that have made the American girl unique among the women of the +world. Consequently, a book with a Bell heroine is sure of a hearty +welcome. What, therefore, can be said of this book, which contains no +less than four types of witching and buoyant femininity? There are four +stories of power and dash in this volume: "The Last Straw," "The +Surrender of Lapwing," "The Penance of Hedwig," and "Garret Owen's +Little Countess." Each one of these tells a tale full of verve and +thrill, each one has a heroine of fibre and spirit. + + +Count Zarka. + +By SIR WILLIAM MAGNAY, author of "The Red Chancellor." + + +"The Red Chancellor" was considered by critics, as well as by the +reading public, one of the most dramatic novels of last year. In his new +book, Sir William Magnay has continued in the field in which he has been +so successful. "Count Zarka" is a strong, quick-moving romance of +adventure and political intrigue, the scene being laid in a fictitious +kingdom of central Europe, under which thin disguise may be recognized +one of the Balkan states. The story in its action and complications +reminds one strongly of "The Prisoner of Zenda," while the man[oe]uvring +of Russia for the control in the East strongly suggests the contemporary +history of European politics. The character of the mysterious Count +Zarka, hero and villain, is strongly developed, and one new in fiction. + + +The Golden Dwarf. + +By R. NORMAN SILVER, author of "A Daughter of Mystery," etc. + + +Mr. Silver needs no introduction to the American public. His "A Daughter +of Mystery" was one of the most realistic stories of modern London life +that has recently appeared. "The Golden Dwarf" is such another story, +intense and almost sensational. Mr. Silver reveals the mysterious and +gruesome beneath the commonplace in an absorbing manner. The "Golden +Dwarf" himself, his strange German physician, and the secret of the +Wyresdale Tower are characters and happenings which will hold the reader +from cover to cover. + + +Alain Tanger's Wife. + +By J. H. YOXALL, author of "The Rommany Stone," etc. + + +A spirited story of political intrigue in France. The various +dissensions of the parties claiming political supremacy, and "the wheels +within wheels" that move them to their schemes are caustically and +trenchantly revealed. A well known figure in the military history of +France plays a prominent part in the plot--but the central figure is +that of the American heroine--loyal, intense, piquant, and compelling. + + +The Diary of a Year. + +PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF A WOMAN OF THE WORLD. Edited by Mrs. CHARLES H. +E. BROOKFIELD. + + +The writer of this absorbing study of emotions and events is gifted with +charming imagination and an elegant style. The book abounds in brilliant +wit, amiable philosophy, and interesting characterizations. The "woman +of the world" reveals herself as a fascinating, if somewhat reckless, +creature, who justly holds the sympathies of the reader. + + +The Red Triangle. Being some further chronicles of Martin Hewitt, +investigator. + +By ARTHUR MORRISON, author of "The Hole in the Wall," "Tales of Mean +Streets," etc. + + +This is a genuine, straightforward detective story of the kind that +keeps the reader on the _qui vive_. Martin Hewitt, investigator, might +well have studied his methods from Sherlock Holmes, so searching and +successful are they. His adventures take him at times to the slums of +London, amid scenes which recall Mr. Morrison's already noted "The Hole +in the Wall." As a combination of criminal and character studies, this +book is very successful. + + +COMMONWEALTH SERIES No. 7. + +The Philadelphians: + +AS SEEN BY A NEW YORK WOMAN. + +By KATHARINE BINGHAM. (Pseud.) + + +A bright and breezy tale of a charming New York woman, whose wedded lot +is twice cast in Philadelphia. The family of her first husband committed +the unpardonable sin of living north of Market Street; that of her +second husband resided south of that line of demarcation. She is thus +enabled to speak whereof she knows concerning the conventions, and draws +the characteristics of life in the Quaker city, as well as the foibles +of the "first families" with a keen and caustic, though not unkindly, +pen. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Bright Face of Danger, by +Robert Neilson Stephens and H. C. 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C. Edwards + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Bright Face of Danger + +Author: Robert Neilson Stephens + H. C. Edwards + +Release Date: November 7, 2009 [EBook #30417] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BRIGHT FACE OF DANGER *** + + + + +Produced by David Edwards, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figleft"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<div class="figright"> +<img src="images/title.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<h1>The Bright Face of Danger</h1> + +<h3><i>Being an Account of Some Adventures of Henri de Launay, Son of the +Sieur de la Tournoire.<br /> Freely Translated into Modern English</i></h3> + +<h2>By Robert Neilson Stephens</h2> + +<h3><i>Author of</i> "An Enemy to the King," "Philip Winwood,"<br /> "The Mystery of +Murray Davenport," etc.</h3> + +<h3><i>Illustrated by</i> H. C. Edwards</h3> + + +<h3><i>Boston</i><br /> +L. C. Page & Company<br /> +<i>Mdcccciiii</i></h3> + +<h3><i>Copyright, 1904</i><br /> +By <span class="smcap">L. C. Page & Company</span></h3> + +<h3><i>Entered at Stationers' Hall, London</i><br /> +<i>All rights reserved</i></h3> + +<h3>Published April, 1904<br /> +Colonial Press</h3> + +<h3>Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.<br /> +Boston. Mass., U.S.A.</h3> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>THE BRIGHT FACE OF DANGER is, in a distant way, a sequel to "An +Enemy to the King," but may be read alone, without any reference to +that tale. The title is a phrase of Robert Louis Stevenson's.</i></p> + +<p><i>THE AUTHOR.</i></p></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus1" id="illus1"></a> +<img src="images/illus1.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"'I GIVE YOU ONE CHANCE FOR YOUR LIFE,' SAID I QUICKLY."</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + + + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> +<a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I. <span class="smcap">Monsieur Henri de Launay Sets Out on a Journey</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II. <span class="smcap">A Young Man Who Went Singing</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III. <span class="smcap">Where the Lady Was</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV. <span class="smcap">Who the Lady Was</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V. <span class="smcap">The Chateau de Lavardin</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI. <span class="smcap">What the Peril Was</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII. <span class="smcap">Strange Disappearances</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII. <span class="smcap">Mathilde</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX. <span class="smcap">The Winding Stairs</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X. <span class="smcap">More Than Mere Pity</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI. <span class="smcap">The Rat-Hole and the Water-Jug</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII. <span class="smcap">The Rope Ladder</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII. <span class="smcap">The Parting</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV. <span class="smcap">In the Forest</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV. <span class="smcap">The Tower of Morlon</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI. <span class="smcap">The Mercy of Captain Ferragant</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII. <span class="smcap">The Sword of La Tournoire</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII. <span class="smcap">The Moustaches of Brignan de Brignan</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX. <span class="smcap">Afterwards</span></a><br /><br /> +<a href="#Works_of_Robert_Neilson_Stephens">Works of Robert Neilson Stephens</a><br /> +<a href="#L_C_Page_and_Company">L. C. Page and Company</a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + +<p><a href="#illus1">"'<span class="smcap">I give you one chance for your life,' said I quickly</span>"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#illus2">"'<span class="smcap">And now she will wait for him in vain!</span>'"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#illus3">"<span class="smcap">We were interrupted by a low cry</span>"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#illus4">"<span class="smcap">'The wretches!' said the tortured Count, staggering to his feet</span>"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#illus5">"<span class="smcap">I leaped over the bed, and upon the man who was trying to strangle the +Countess</span>"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#illus6">"<span class="smcap">My father's thrusts became now so quick and continuous</span>"</a></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE BRIGHT FACE OF DANGER</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h3>MONSIEUR HENRI DE LAUNAY SETS OUT ON A JOURNEY</h3> + + +<p>If, on the first Tuesday in June, in the year 1608, anybody had asked me +on what business I was riding towards Paris, and if I had answered, "To +cut off the moustaches of a gentleman I have never seen, that I may toss +them at the feet of a lady who has taunted me with that gentleman's +superiorities,"—if I had made this reply, I should have been taken for +the most foolish person on horseback in France that day. Yet the answer +would have been true, though I accounted myself one of the wisest young +gentlemen you might find in Anjou or any other province.</p> + +<p>I was, of a certainty, studious, and a lover of books. My father, the +Sieur de la Tournoire, being a daring soldier, had so often put himself +to perils inimical to my mother's peace of mind, that she had guided my +inclinations in the peaceful direction of the library, hoping not to +suffer for the son such alarms as she had undergone for the husband. I +had grown up, therefore, a musing, bookish youth, rather shy and +solitary in my habits: and this despite the care taken of my education +in swordsmanship, riding, hunting, and other manly accomplishments, both +by my father and by his old follower, Blaise Tripault. I acquired skill +enough to satisfy these well-qualified instructors, but yet a volume of +Plutarch or a book of poems was more to me than sword or dagger, horse, +hound, or falcon. I was used to lonely walks and brookside meditations +in the woods and meads of our estate of La Tournoire, in Anjou; and it +came about that with my head full of verses I must needs think upon some +lady with whom to fancy myself in love.</p> + +<p>Contiguity determined my choice. The next estate to ours, separated from +it by a stream flowing into the Loir, had come into the possession of a +rich family of bourgeois origin whom heaven had blessed (or burdened, as +some would think) with a pretty daughter. Mlle. Celeste was a small, +graceful, active creature, with a clear and well-coloured skin, and +quick-glancing black eyes which gave me a pleasant inward stir the first +time they rested on me. In my first acquaintance with this young lady, +the black eyes seemed to enlarge and soften when they fell on me: she +regarded me with what I took to be interest and approval: her face shone +with friendliness, and her voice was kind. In this way I was led on.</p> + +<p>When she saw how far she had drawn me, her manner changed: she became +whimsical, never the same for five minutes: sometimes indifferent, +sometimes disdainful, sometimes gay at my expense. This treatment +touched my pride, and would have driven me off, but that still, when in +her presence, I felt in some degree the charm of the black eyes, the +well-chiselled face, the graceful swift motions, and what else I know +not. When I was away from her, this charm declined: nevertheless I chose +to keep her in my mind as just such a capricious object of adoration as +poets are accustomed to lament and praise in the same verses.</p> + +<p>But indeed I was never for many days out of reach of her attractive +powers, for several of her own favourite haunts were on her side of the +brook by which I was in the habit of strolling or reclining for some +part of almost every fair day. Attended by a fat and sleepy old +waiting-woman, she was often to be seen running along the grassy bank +with a greyhound that followed her everywhere. For this animal she +showed a constancy of affection that made her changefulness to me the +more heart-sickening.</p> + +<p>Thus, half in love, half in disgust, I sat moodily on my side of the +stream one sunny afternoon, watching her on the other side. She had been +running a race with the dog, and had just settled down on the green +bank, with the hound sitting on his haunches beside her. Both dog and +girl were panting, and her face was still merry with the fun of the +scamper. Her old attendant had probably been left dozing in some other +part of the wood. Here now was an opportunity for me to put in a sweet +speech or two. But as I looked at her and thought of her treatment of +me, my pride rebelled, and I suppose my face for the moment wore a +cloud. My expression, whatever it was, caught the quick eyes of Mlle. +Celeste. Being in merriment herself, she was the readier to make scorn +of my sulky countenance. She pealed out a derisive laugh.</p> + +<p>"Oh, the sour face! Is that what comes of your eternal reading?"</p> + +<p>I had in my hand a volume of Plutarch in the French of Amyot. Her +ridicule of reading annoyed me.</p> + +<p>"No, Mademoiselle, it isn't from books that one draws sourness. I find +more sweetness in them than in—most things." I was looking straight at +her as I said this.</p> + +<p>She pretended to laugh again, but turned quite red.</p> + +<p>"Nay, forgive me," I said, instantly softened. "Ah, Celeste, you know +too well what is the sweetest of all books for my reading." By my look +and sigh, she knew I meant her face. But she chose to be contemptuous.</p> + +<p>"Poh! What should a pale scholar know of such books? I tell you, +Monsieur de Launay, you will never be a man till you leave your books +and see a little of the world."</p> + +<p>Though she called me truly enough a pale scholar, I was scarlet for a +moment.</p> + +<p>"And what do you know of the world, then?" I retorted. "Or of men +either?"</p> + +<p>"I am only a girl. But as to men, I have met one or two. There is your +father, for example. And that brave and handsome Brignan de Brignan."</p> + +<p>Whether I loved or not, I was certainly capable of jealousy; and +jealousy of the fiercest arose at the name of Brignan de Brignan. I had +never seen him; but she had mentioned him to me before, too many times +indeed for me to hear his name now with composure. He was a young +gentleman of the King's Guard, of whom, by reason of a distant +relationship, her family had seen much during a residence of several +months in Paris.</p> + +<p>"Brignan de Brignan," I echoed. "Yes, I dare say he has looked more into +the faces of women than into books."</p> + +<p>"And more into the face of danger than into either. That's what has made +him the man he is."</p> + +<p>"Tut!" I cried, waving my Plutarch; "there's more manly action in this +book than a thousand Brignans could perform in all their lives—more +danger encountered."</p> + +<p>"An old woman might read it for all that. Would it make her manly? Well, +Monsieur Henri, if you choose to encounter danger only in books, there's +nobody to complain. But you shouldn't show malice toward those who +prefer to meet it in the wars or on the road."</p> + +<p>"Malice? Not I. What is Brignan de Brignan to me? You may say what you +please—this Plutarch is as good a school of heroism as any officer of +the King's Guard ever went to."</p> + +<p>"Yet the officers of the King's Guard aren't pale, moping fellows like +you lovers of books. Ah, Monsieur Henri, if you mean to be a monk, well +and good. But otherwise, do you know what would change your complexion +for the better? A lively brush with real dangers on the field, or in +Paris, or anywhere away from your home and your father's protection. +That would bring colour into your cheeks."</p> + +<p>"You may let my cheeks alone, Mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>"You may be sure I will do that."</p> + +<p>"I'm quite satisfied with my complexion, and I wouldn't exchange it for +that of Brignan de Brignan. I dare say his face is red enough."</p> + +<p>"Yes, a most manly colour. And his broad shoulders—and powerful +arms—and fine bold eyes—ah! there <i>is</i> the picture of a hero—and his +superb moustaches—"</p> + +<p>Now I was at the time not strong in respect of moustaches. I was +extremely sensitive upon the point. My frame, though not above middle +size, was yet capable of robust development, my paleness was not beyond +remedy, and my eyes were of a pleasant blue, so there was little to +rankle in what she said of my rival's face and body; but as to the +moustaches——!</p> + +<p>I scrambled to my feet.</p> + +<p>"I tell you what it is, Mademoiselle. Just to show what your Brignan +really amounts to, and whether I mean to be a monk, and what a reader of +books can do when he likes, I have made up my mind to go to Paris; and +there I will find your Brignan, and show my scorn of such an illiterate +bravo, and cut off his famous moustaches, and bring them back to you for +proof! So adieu, Mademoiselle, for this is the last you will see of me +till what I have said is done!"</p> + +<p>The thing had come into my head in one hot moment, indeed it formed +itself as I spoke it; and so I, the quiet and studious, stood committed +to an act which the most harebrained brawler in Anjou would have deemed +childish folly. Truly, I did lack knowledge of the world.</p> + +<p>I turned from Mlle. Celeste's look of incredulous wonderment, and went +off through the woods, with swifter strides than I usually took, to our +chateau. Of course I dared not tell my parents my reason for wishing to +go to Paris. It was enough, to my mother at least, that I should desire +to go on any account. The best way in which I could put my resolution to +them, which I did that very afternoon, on the terrace where I found them +sitting, was thus:</p> + +<p>"I have been thinking how little I know of the world. It is true, you +have taken me to Paris; but I was only a lad then, and what I saw was +with a lad's eyes and under your guidance. I am now twenty-two, and many +a man at that age has begun to make his own career. To be worthy of my +years, of my breeding, of my name, I ought to know something of life +from my own experience. So I have resolved, with your permission, my +dear father and mother, to go to Paris and see what I may see."</p> + +<p>My mother had turned pale as soon as she saw the drift of my speech, and +was for putting every plea in the way. But my father, though he looked +serious, seemed not displeased. We talked upon the matter—as to how +long I should wish to stay in Paris, whether I had thought of aiming at +any particular career there, and of such things. I said I had formed no +plans nor hopes: these might or might not come after I had arrived in +Paris and looked about me. But see something of the world I must, if +only that I might not be at disadvantage in conversation afterward. It +was a thing I could afford, for on the attainment of my majority my +father had made over to me the income of a portion of our estate, a +small enough revenue indeed, but one that looked great in my eyes. He +could not now offer any reasonable objection to my project, and he plead +my cause with my mother, without whose consent I should not have had the +heart to go. Indeed, knowing what her dread had always been, and seeing +the anxious love in her eyes as she now regarded me, I almost wavered. +But of course she was won over, as women are, though what tears her +acquiescence caused her afterwards when she was alone I did not like to +think upon.</p> + +<p>She comforted herself presently with the thought that our faithful +Blaise Tripault should attend me, but here again I had to oppose her. +For Blaise, by reason of his years and the service he had done my father +in the old wars, was of a dictatorial way with all of us, and I knew he +would rob me of all responsibility and freedom, so that I should be +again a lad under the thumb of an elder and should profit nothing in +self-reliance and mastership. Besides this reason, which I urged upon my +parents, I had my own reason, which I did not urge, namely, that I +should never dare let Blaise know the special purpose of my visit to +Paris. He would laugh me out of countenance, and yet ten to one he would +in the end deprive me of the credit of keeping my promise, by taking its +performance upon himself. That I might be my own master, therefore, I +chose as my valet the most tractable fellow at my disposal, one Nicolas, +a lank, knock-kneed jack of about my own age, who had hitherto made +himself of the least possible use, with the best possible intentions, +between the dining-hall and the kitchen. And yet he was clever enough +among horses, or anywhere outdoors. My mother, though she wondered at my +choice and trembled to think how fragile a reed I should have to rely +on, was yet not sorry, I fancy, at the prospect of ridding her house of +poor blundering Nicolas in a kind and creditable way. I had reason to +think Nicolas better suited for this new service, and, by insisting, I +gained my point in this also.</p> + +<p>I made haste about my equipment, and in a few days we set forth, myself +on a good young chestnut gelding, Nicolas on a strong black mule, which +carried also our baggage. Before I mounted, and while my mother, doing +her best to keep back her tears, was adding some last article of comfort +to the contents of my great leather bag, my father led me into the +window recess of the hall, and after speaking of the letters of +introduction with which he had provided me, said in his soldierly, +straightforward manner:</p> + +<p>"I know you have gathered wisdom from books, and it will serve you well, +because it will make you take better heed of experience and see more +meaning in it. But then it will require the experience to give your +book-learned wisdom its full force. Often at first, in the face of +emergency, when the call is for action, your wisdom will fly from your +mind; but this will not be the case after you have seen life for +yourself. Experience will teach you the full and living meaning of much +that you now know but as written truth. It may teach you also some +things you have never read, nor even dreamt of. What you have learned by +study, and what you must learn by practice only, leave no use for any +good counsel I might give you now. Only one thing I can't help saying, +though you know it already and will doubtless see it proved again and +again. There are many deceivers in the world. Don't trust the outward +look of things or people. Be cautious; yet conceal your caution under +courtesy, for nothing is more boorish than open suspicion. And remember, +too, not to think bad, either, from appearances alone. You may do +injustice that way. Hold your opinion till the matter is tested. When +appearances are fair, be wary without showing it; when they are bad, +regard your safety but don't condemn. In other words, always mingle +caution with urbanity, even with kindness.—I need not speak of the name +you have to keep unsullied. Honour is a thing about which you require no +admonitions. You know that it consists as much in not giving affronts as +in not enduring them, though many who talk loudest about it seem to +think otherwise. Indeed this is an age in which honour is prated of most +by those who practise it least. Well, my son, there are a thousand +things I would say, but that is all I shall say. Good-bye—may the good +God bless and protect you."</p> + +<p>I had much to do to speak firmly and to perceive what I was about, in +taking my leave, for my mother could no longer refrain from sobbing as +she embraced me at the last, and my young brother and sister, catching +the infection, began to whimper and to rub their eyes with their fists. +Knowing so much more of my wild purpose than they did, and realizing +that I might never return alive, I was the more tried in my resolution +not to disgrace with tears the virgin rapier and dagger at my side. But +finally I got somehow upon my horse, whose head Blaise Tripault was +holding, and threw my last kisses to the family on the steps. I then +managed voice enough to say "Good-bye, Blaise," to the old soldier.</p> + +<p>"Nay, I will walk as far as to the village," said he, in his gruff, +autocratic way. "I have a word or two for you at parting."</p> + +<p>Throwing back a somewhat pallid smile to my people, tearfully waving +their adieus, I turned my horse out of the court-yard, followed by +Nicolas on the mule, and soon emerging from the avenue, was upon the +road. Blaise Tripault strode after me. When I came in front of the inn +at the end of the village, he called out to stop. I did so, and Blaise, +coming up to my stirrup, handed me a folded paper and thus addressed me:</p> + +<p>"Of course your father has given you all the advice you need. Nobody is +more competent than he to instruct a young man setting out to see the +world. His young days were the days of hard knocks, as everybody knows. +But as I was thinking of your journey, there came into my head an old +tale a monk told me once—for, like your father, I was never too much of +a Huguenot to get what good I might out of any priest or monk the Lord +chose to send my way. It's a tale that has to do with travelling, and +that's what made me think of it—a tale about three maxims that some +wise person once gave a Roman emperor who was going on a journey. I half +forget the tale itself, for it isn't much of a tale; but the maxims I +remembered, because I had had experience enough to realize their value. +I've written them out for you there: and if you get them by heart, and +never lose sight of them, you'll perhaps save yourself much repentance."</p> + +<p>He then bade me good-bye, and the last I saw of him he was entering the +inn to drink to my good fortune.</p> + +<p>When I had got clear of the village, I unfolded Blaise's paper and read +the maxims:</p> + +<p>1. "<i>Never undertake a thing unless you can see your way to the end of +it.</i>"</p> + +<p>2. "<i>Never sleep in a house where the master is old and the wife +young.</i>"</p> + +<p>3. "<i>Never leave a highway for a byway.</i>"</p> + +<p>Very good counsel, thought I, and worth bearing in mind. It was true, my +very journey itself was, as to its foolhardy purpose, a violation of the +first maxim. But that could not be helped now, and I could at least heed +that piece of advice, as well as the others, in the details of my +mission. When I thought of that mission, I felt both foolish and +heavy-hearted. I had not the faintest idea yet of how I should go about +encountering Brignan de Brignan and getting into a quarrel with him, and +I had great misgivings as to how I should be able to conduct myself in +that quarrel, and as to its outcome. Certainly no man ever took the road +on a more incredible, frivolous quest. Of all the people travelling my +way, that June morning, T was probably one of the most thoughtful and +judiciously-minded; yet of every one but myself the business in being +abroad was sober and reasonable, while mine was utterly ridiculous and +silly. And the girl whose banter had driven me to it—perhaps she had +attached no seriousness whatever to my petulant vow and had even now +forgotten it. With these reflections were mingled the pangs of parting +from my home and family; and for a time I was downcast and sad.</p> + +<p>But the day was fine. Presently my thoughts, which at first had flown +back to all I had left behind, began to concern themselves with the +scenes around me; then they flew ahead to the place whither I was +bound:—this is usually the way on journeys. At least, thought I, I +should see life, and perchance meet dangers, and so far be the gainer. +And who knows but I might even come with credit out of the affair with +Monsieur de Brignan?—it is a world of strange turnings, and the upshot +is always more or less different from what has been predicted. So I took +heart, and already I began to feel I was not exactly the pale scholar of +yesterday. It was something to be my own master, on horseback and +well-armed, my eyes ranging the wide and open country, green and brown +in the sunlight, dotted here and there with trees, sometimes traversed +by a stream, and often backed by woods of darker green, which seemed to +hold secrets dangerous and luring.</p> + +<p>Riding gave me a great appetite, and I was fortunate in coming upon an +inn at Durtal whose table was worthy of my capacity. After dinner, we +took the road again and proceeded at an easy pace toward La Flèche.</p> + +<p>Toward the middle of the afternoon a vague uneasiness stole over me, as +if some tragic circumstance lay waiting on the path—to me +unknown—ahead.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>A YOUNG MAN WHO WENT SINGING</h3> + + +<p>It was about five o'clock when we rode into La Flèche, and the feeling +of ill foreboding still possessed me. Partly considering this, and +partly as it was improbable I should find the best accommodations +anywhere else short of Le Mans, I decided to put up here for the night. +As I rode into the central square of the town, I saw an inn there: it +had a prosperous and honest look, so I said, "This is the place for my +money," and made for it. The square was empty and silent when I entered +it, but just as I reached the archway of the inn, I heard a voice +singing, whereupon I looked around and saw a young man riding into the +square from another street than that I had come from. He was followed by +a servant on horseback, and was bound for the same inn. It seems strange +in the telling, that a gentleman should ride singing into a public +square, as if he were a mountebank or street-singer, yet it appeared +quite natural as this young fellow did it. The song was something about +brave soldiers and the smiles of ladies—just such a gay song as so +handsome a young cavalier ought to sing. I looked at him a moment, then +rode on into the inn-yard. This little act, done in all thoughtlessness, +and with perfect right, was the cause of momentous things in my life. If +I had waited to greet that young gentleman at the archway, I believe my +history would have gone very differently. As it was, I am convinced that +my carelessly dropping him from my regard, as if he were a person of no +interest, was the beginning of what grew between us. For, as he rode in +while I was dismounting, he threw at me a look of resentment for which +there was nothing to account but the possible wound to his vanity. His +countenance, symmetrically and somewhat boldly formed, showed great +self-esteem and a fondness for attention. His singing had suddenly +stopped. I could feel his anger, which was probably the greater for +having no real cause, I having been under no obligation to notice him or +offer him precedence.</p> + +<p>He called loudly for an ostler, and, when one came out of the stables, +he coolly gave his orders without waiting for me, though I had been +first in the yard. He bade his own servant see their horses well fed, +and then made for the inn-door, casting a scornful glance at me, and +resuming his song in a lower voice. It was now my turn to be angry, and +justly, but I kept silence. I knew not exactly how to take this sort of +demonstration: whether it was a usual thing among travellers and to be +paid back only in kind, or whether for the sake of my reputation I ought +to treat it as a serious affront. It is, of course, childish to take +offence at a trifle. In my ignorance of what the world expects of a man +upon receipt of hostile and disparaging looks, I could only act as one +always must who cannot make up his mind—do nothing. After seeing my +horse and mule attended to, I bade Nicolas follow with the baggage, and +entered the inn.</p> + +<p>The landlord was talking with my young singing gentleman, but made to +approach me as I came in. The young gentleman, however, speaking in a +peremptory manner, detained him with questions about the roads, the town +of La Flèche, and such matters. As I advanced, the young gentleman got +between me and the host, and continued his talk. I waited awkwardly +enough for the landlord's attention, and began to feel hot within. A +wench now placed on a table some wine that the young man had ordered, +and the landlord finally got rid of him by directing his attention to +it. As he went to sit down, he bestowed on me the faintest smile of +ridicule. I was too busy to think much of it at the moment, in ordering +a room for the night and sending Nicolas thither with my bag. I then +called for supper and sat down as far as possible from the other guest. +He and I were the only occupants of the room, but from the kitchen +adjoining came the noise of a number of the commonalty at food and +drink.</p> + +<p>"Always politeness," thought I, when my wine had come, and so, in spite +of his rudeness and his own neglect of the courtesy, as I raised my +glass I said to him, "Your health, Monsieur."</p> + +<p>He turned red at the reproach implied in my observance, then very +reluctantly lifted his own glass and said, "And yours," in a surly, +grudging manner.</p> + +<p>"It has been a pleasant day," I went on, resolved not to be churlish, at +all hazards.</p> + +<p>"Do you think so?" he replied contemptuously, and then turned to look +out of the window, and hummed the tune he had been singing before.</p> + +<p>I thought if such were the companions my journey was to throw me in +with, it would be a sorry time till I got home again. But my young +gentleman, for all his temporary sullenness, was really of a talkative +nature, as these vain young fellows are apt to be, and when he had +warmed himself a little with wine even his dislike of me could not +restrain his tongue any longer.</p> + +<p>"You are staying here to-night, then?" he suddenly asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and you?"</p> + +<p>"I shall ride on after supper. There will be starlight."</p> + +<p>"I have used my horse enough to-day."</p> + +<p>"And I mine, for that matter. But there are times when horses can't be +considered."</p> + +<p>"You are travelling on important business, then?"</p> + +<p>"On business of haste. I must put ground behind me."</p> + +<p>"I drink to the success of your business, then."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, I am always successful. There is another toast, that should +have first place. The ladies, Monsieur."</p> + +<p>"With all my heart."</p> + +<p>"That's a toast I never permit myself to defer. Mon dieu, I owe them +favours enough!"</p> + +<p>"You are fortunate," said I.</p> + +<p>"I don't complain. And you?"</p> + +<p>"Even if I were fortunate in that respect, I shouldn't boast of it."</p> + +<p>He coloured; but laughed shortly, and said, "It's not boasting to tell +the mere truth."</p> + +<p>"I was thinking of myself, not of you, Monsieur." This was true enough.</p> + +<p>"I can readily believe you've had no great luck that way," he said +spitefully, pretending to take stock of my looks. I knew his remark was +sheer malice, for my appearance was good enough—well-figured and +slender, with a pleasant, thoughtful face.</p> + +<p>"Let us talk of something else," I answered coldly, though I was far +from cool in reality.</p> + +<p>"Certainly. What do you think of the last conspiracy?"</p> + +<p>"That it was very rash and utterly without reason. We have the best king +France ever knew."</p> + +<p>"Yes, long live Henri IV.! They say there are still some of the +malcontents to be gathered in. Have you heard of any fresh arrests?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing within two weeks. I don't understand how these affairs can +possibly arise, after that of Biron. Men must be complete fools."</p> + +<p>"Oh, there are always malcontents who still count on Spain, and some +think even the League may be revived."</p> + +<p>"But why should they not be contented? I can't imagine any grievances."</p> + +<p>"Faith, my child, where have you been hiding yourself? Don't you know +the talk? Do you suppose everybody is pleased with this Dutch alliance? +And the way in which the King's old Huguenot comrades are again to be +seen around him?"</p> + +<p>"And why not? Through everything, the King's heart has always been with +the protestants."</p> + +<p>"Oho! So you are one of the psalm-singers, then?" His insulting tone and +jeering smile were intolerable.</p> + +<p>"I have sung no psalms here, at least," I replied trembling with anger; +"or anything else, to annoy the ears of my neighbours."</p> + +<p>"So you don't like my singing?" he cried, turning red again.</p> + +<p>I had truly rather admired it, but I said, "I have heard better."</p> + +<p>"Indeed? But how should you know. For your education in taste, I may +tell you that good judges have thought well of my singing."</p> + +<p>"Ay, brag of it, as you do of your success with the ladies."</p> + +<p>He stared at me in amazement, then cried. "Death of my life, young +fellow!—" But at that instant his servant brought in his supper, and he +went no further. My own meal was before me a minute later, and we both +devoted ourselves in angry silence to our food. I was still full of +resentment at his obtrusive scorn of myself and my religious party, and +I could see that he felt himself mightily outraged at my retorts. From +the rapid, heedless way in which he ate, I fancied his mind was busy +with all sorts of revenge upon me.</p> + +<p>When he had finished, at the same time as I did, and our servants had +gone to eat their supper in the kitchen, he leaned against the wall, and +said, "I am going to sing, Monsieur, whether it pleases you or not." And +forthwith he began to do so.</p> + +<p>My answer was to put on a look of pain, and walk hastily from the room, +as if the torture to my ears were too great for endurance.</p> + +<p>I was not half-way across the court-yard before I heard him at my heels +though not singing.</p> + +<p>"My friend," said he, as I turned around, "I don't know where you were +bred, but you should know this: it's not good manners to break from a +gentleman's company so unceremoniously."</p> + +<p>It occurred to me that because I had taken his insults from the first, +through not knowing how much a sensible man should bear, he thought he +might safely hector me to the full satisfaction of his hurt vanity.</p> + +<p>"So you do know something of good manners, after all?" I replied. "I +congratulate you."</p> + +<p>His eyes flashed new wrath, but before he knew how to answer, and while +we were glaring at each other like two cocks, though at some distance +apart, out came Nicolas from the kitchen to ask if I wished my cloak +brought down, which he had taken up with the bag. In his rustic +innocence he stepped between my nagging gentleman and myself. The +gentleman at this ran forward in an access of rage, and threw Nicolas +aside, saying, "Out of the way, knave! You're as great a clown as your +master."</p> + +<p>"Hands off! How dare you?" I cried, clapping my hand to my sword.</p> + +<p>"If you come a step nearer, I'll kill you!" he replied, grasping his own +hilt.</p> + +<p>I sent a swift glance around. There was no witness but Nicolas. Yet a +scuffle would draw people in ten seconds. Even at that moment, with my +heart beating madly, I thought of the edict against duelling: so I said, +as calmly as I could:</p> + +<p>"If you dare draw that sword, I see trees beyond that gateway—a garden +or something. It will be quieter there." I pointed to a narrow exit at +the rear of the yard.</p> + +<p>"I will show you whom you're dealing with, my lad!" he said, +breathlessly, and made at once for the gate. I followed. I could see now +that, though a bully, he was not a coward, and the discovery fell upon +me with a sense of how grave a matter I had been drawn into.</p> + +<p>At the gate I looked around, and saw Nicolas following, his eyes wide +with alarm. "Stay where you are, and not a word to anybody," I ordered, +and closed the gate after me. My adversary led the way across a +neglected garden, and out through a postern in a large wall, to where +there was a thicker growth of trees. We passed among these to a little +open space near the river, from which it was partly veiled by a tangled +mass of bushes. The unworn state of the green sward showed that this was +a spot little visited by the townspeople.</p> + +<p>"We have stumbled on the right place," said the young gentleman, with an +assumption of coolness. "It's a pity the thing can't be done properly, +with seconds and all that." And he proceeded to take off his doublet.</p> + +<p>I was sobered by the time spent in walking to the place, so I said, +"It's not too late. Monsieur, if you are willing to apologize."</p> + +<p>"I apologize! Death of my life! You pile insult on insult."</p> + +<p>"I assure you, it is you who have been the insulter."</p> + +<p>He laughed in a way that revived my heat, and asked, "Swords alone, or +swords and daggers?"</p> + +<p>"As you please." By this time I had cast off my own doublet.</p> + +<p>"Rapiers and daggers, then," he said, and flung away his scabbard and +sheath. I saw the flash of my own weapons a moment later, and ere I had +time for a second thought on the seriousness of this event—my first +fight in earnest—he was keeping me busy to parry his point and watch +his dagger at the same time. I was half-surprised at my own success in +turning away his blade, but after I had guarded myself from three or +four thrusts, I took to mind that offence is the best defence, and +ventured a lunge, which he stopped with his dagger only in the nick of +time to save his breast. His look of being almost caught gave me +encouragement, making me realize I had received good enough lessons from +my father and Blaise Tripault to enable me to practise with confidence. +So I pushed the attack, but never lost control of myself nor became +reckless. It was an inspiriting revelation to me to find that I could +indeed use my head intelligently, and command my motions so well, at a +time of such excitement. We grew hot, perspired, breathed fast and loud, +kept our muscles tense, and held each other with glittering eyes as we +moved about on firm but springy feet. We must have fought very swiftly, +for the ring of the steel sounded afterward in my ears as if it had been +almost continuous. How long we kept it up, I do not exactly know. We +came to panting more deeply, and I felt a little tired, and once or +twice a mist was before my eyes. At last he gave me a great start by +running his point through my shirt sleeve above the elbow. Feeling +myself so nearly stung, I instinctively made a long swift thrust: up +went his dagger, but too late: my blade passed clear of it, sank into +his left breast. He gave a sharp little cry, and fell, and the hole I +had made in his shirt was quickly circled with crimson.</p> + +<p>"Victory!" thought I, with an exultant sense of prowess. I had fleshed +my sword and brought low my man! But, as I looked down at him and he lay +perfectly still, another feeling arose. I knelt and felt for his heart: +my new fear was realized. With bitter regret I gazed at him. All the +anger and scorn had gone out of his face: it was now merely the handsome +boyish face of a youth like myself, expressing only a manly pride and +the pain and surprise of his last moment. It was horrible to think that +I had stopped this life for ever, reduced this energy and beauty to +eternal silence and nothingness. A weakness overwhelmed me, a profound +pity and self-reproach.</p> + +<p>I heard a low ejaculation behind me, which made me start. But I saw it +was only Nicolas, who, in spite of my orders, had stolen after me, in +terror of what might happen.</p> + +<p>"Oh, heaven!" he groaned, as he stared with pale face and scared eyes at +the prostrate form. "You have killed him, Monsieur Henri."</p> + +<p>"Yes. It is a great pity. After all, he merely thought a little too well +of himself and was a little inconsiderate of other people's feelings. +But who is not so, more or less? Poor young man!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, but think of us, Monsieur Henri—think of yourself, I mean! We had +better be going, or you will have to answer for this."</p> + +<p>"That is so. We must settle with the landlord and get away from this +town before this gentleman is missed."</p> + +<p>"And alas! you arranged to stay all night. The landlord will be sure to +smell something. Come, I beg of you: there's not a moment to lose. Think +what there's to do—the bag to fetch down, the horse and mule to saddle. +We shall be lucky if the officers aren't after us before we're out of +the town."</p> + +<p>"You are right.—Poor young man! At least I will cover his face with his +doublet before I go."</p> + +<p>"I'll do that, Monsieur. You put on your own doublet, and save time."</p> + +<p>I did so. As Nicolas ran past me with the slain man's doublet, something +fell out of the pocket of it. This proved to be a folded piece of paper, +like a letter, but with no name outside. I picked it up. Fancying it +might give a clue to my victim's identity, and as the seal was broken, I +opened it. There was some writing, in the hand of a woman,—two lines +only:</p> + +<p>"<i>For heaven's sake and pity's, come to me at once. My life and honour +depend on you alone.</i>"</p> + +<p>As the missive was without address, so was it without signature. It must +have been delivered by some confidential messenger who knew the +recipient, and yet by whom a verbal message was either not thought +expedient, or required to be confirmed by the written appeal. The +recipient must be familiar with the sender's handwriting. The note +looked fresh and clean, and therefore must have been very lately +received.</p> + +<p>"Come, Monsieur Henri," called Nicolas, breaking in upon my whirling +thoughts. "Why do you wait?—What is the matter? What do you see on that +paper?"</p> + +<p>"And this," I answered, though of course Nicolas could not understand +me, "is the business he was on! This is why he had need to put ground +behind him. He was going on to-night. He must have stopped only to +refresh his horses."</p> + +<p>"Yes, certainly, but what of that? What has his business to do with us?"</p> + +<p>"I have prevented his carrying it out. My God!—a woman's life and +honour—a woman who relies on him—and now she will wait for him in +vain! At this very moment she may be counting the hours till he should +arrive!—What have I done?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus2" id="illus2"></a> +<img src="images/illus2.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"'AND NOW SHE WILL WAIT FOR HIM IN VAIN!'"</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>"You, Monsieur? It's not your fault if he chose to get into a quarrel +with you. He must have valued his business highly if he dared risk it in +a fight."</p> + +<p>"Of course he thought from my manner that he could have his own way with +me. There would be no loss of time—his horses needed rest, for greater +speed in the long run. He knew what he was about—there's no doubt of +his haste. 'Come to me at once. My life and honour depend on you alone.' +And while she waits and trusts, I step in and cut off her only +hope!—not this poor young fellow's life alone, but hers also, Nicolas! +It mustn't be so—not if I can any way help it. I see now what I am +called upon to do."</p> + +<p>"What is that, Monsieur Henri?" asked Nicolas despairingly.</p> + +<p>"To carry out this gentleman's task which I have interrupted—to go in +his stead to the assistance of this lady, whoever and wherever she may +be!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3>WHERE THE LADY WAS</h3> + + +<p>"Very well, Monsieur," said Nicolas after a pause, in a tone which meant +anything but very well. "But first you will have enough to do to save +yourself. This gentleman will soon be missed. He was in haste to go on, +as you say. His servant will be wondering why he delays, and the +landlord will become curious about his bill."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I must think a moment. Where is this poor lady? Who is the +gentleman? There may be another letter—a clue of some sort."</p> + +<p>I hurriedly examined the young man's pockets, but found nothing written. +His purse I thought best to leave where it was: to whom, indeed, could I +entrust it with any chance of its being more honestly dealt with than by +those who should find the body? The innkeeper and the gentleman's +servant, with their claims for payment, would see to that. But I kept +the lady's note.</p> + +<p>"Well," said I, "I must have a talk with the valet. I must find out +where this gentleman was going, for that must be the place where the +lady is."</p> + +<p>"But the valet doesn't know where the gentleman was going. He was +talking to me about that in the stables."</p> + +<p>"That's very strange—not to know his master's destination."</p> + +<p>"He knows very little of his master's affairs: he was hired only +yesterday, at Sablé. The gentleman was staying at the inn there. +Yesterday he engaged this man, and said he was going to travel on at the +end of the week. But this morning he suddenly made up his mind to start +at once, and came off without saying where he was bound for. Until I +told him, the man didn't know that the name of this town was La Flèche."</p> + +<p>"And what else did he tell you?"</p> + +<p>"That's all. He was only grumbling about having to come away so +unexpectedly, and being so in the dark about his master's plans."</p> + +<p>"You're sure he didn't say what caused his master to change his mind and +start at once?"</p> + +<p>"He said nothing more, Monsieur."</p> + +<p>"Did he mention his master's name?"</p> + +<p>"No, we didn't get as far as that. It was only his desire to complain to +somebody, that made him speak to me; and I was too busy with the horses +to say much in reply."</p> + +<p>"Then you didn't give my name—to him or any one else here?"</p> + +<p>"Not to a soul, Monsieur."</p> + +<p>"That's fortunate. Well, we must be attending to our business. I will +pay the landlord, and give him some reason for riding on. While you are +getting the animals ready, I will try to sound this valet a little +deeper. Come."</p> + +<p>Without another look behind, we hastened back to the inn.</p> + +<p>"It's a fine evening," said I to the landlord, "and that gentleman I saw +here awhile ago has given me the notion of riding on while the air is +cool." I spoke as steadily as I could, and I suppose if the landlord +detected any want of ease he put it down to the embarrassment of +announcing a change of mind. In any case, he was not slow to compute the +reckoning, nor I to pay it. Then, after seeing my bag and cloak brought +down, I went in search of the young gentleman's valet. I found him in +the kitchen, half way through a bottle of wine.</p> + +<p>"Your master has not yet ridden on, then?" said I, dropping carelessly +on the bench opposite him.</p> + +<p>"No, Monsieur," he replied unsuspectingly. He seemed more like a country +groom than a gentleman's body servant.</p> + +<p>"I have decided to go on this evening, in imitation of him," I +continued.</p> + +<p>"Then your servant had better come back and finish his supper. It's +getting cold yonder. Just as he was going to begin eating, he thought of +something, and went out, and hasn't returned yet."</p> + +<p>It was, alas, true. In my excitement I had forgotten all about Nicolas's +supper, which he had left in order to see if I wanted my cloak for the +cool of the evening.</p> + +<p>"I sent him on an errand," I replied. "He shall sup doubly well later. +As I was about to say, your master—by the way, if I knew his name I +could mention him properly: we have so far neglected to give each other +our names."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur de Merri is my master's name, as far as I know it. I have been +with him only since yesterday." He spoke in a somewhat disgruntled way, +as if not too well satisfied with his new place.</p> + +<p>"So I have heard." I said. "And it seems you were hustled off rather +sooner than you expected, this morning."</p> + +<p>"My master did change his mind suddenly. Yesterday he said he wouldn't +leave Sablé till the end of the week."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but of course when he received the letter—" I stopped, as if not +thinking worth while to finish, and idly scrutinized the floor.</p> + +<p>"What letter, Monsieur?" inquired the fellow, after a moment.</p> + +<p>"Why, the letter that made him change his mind. Didn't you see the +messenger?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, and did that man bring a letter, then?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly. How secretive your master is. The man from—from—where +<i>did</i> he come from, anyhow?"</p> + +<p>"A man came to see my master at Sablé early this morning—the only man I +know of. I heard him say that he had ridden all the way from Montoire, +following my master from one town to another."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is the man, certainly," said I in as careless a manner as +possible, fearful lest my face should betray the interest of this +revelation to me. "Well, I think I will go and see what has become of my +servant. When you have finished that bottle, drink another to me." I +tossed him a silver piece, and sauntered out. Nicolas was fastening the +saddle girth of my horse in the yard. An ostler was attending to the +mule. The innkeeper was looking on. I asked him about the different +roads leading from the place, and by the time I had got this information +all was ready. We mounted, I replied to the landlord's adieu, threw a +coin to the ostler, and clattered out under the archway. From the square +I turned South to cross the Loir, passing not far from the place where, +surrounded by trees and bushes, the body of my adversary must still be +lying.</p> + +<p>"Poor young man!" said I. "Once we get safe off, I hope they will find +him soon."</p> + +<p>"They will soon be seeking him, at least," replied Nicolas. "Before you +came out of the kitchen, the landlord was wondering to the ostler what +had become of him."</p> + +<p>"As he was to ride on at once, his absence will appear strange. Well, +I'm not sorry to think he will be found before he lies long exposed. The +authorities, no doubt, will take all measures to find out who he is and +notify his people."</p> + +<p>"And to find the person who left him in that state," said Nicolas +fearfully.</p> + +<p>"Well, I have a start, and shall travel as fast as my horse can safely +carry me."</p> + +<p>"But wherever you go, Monsieur, the law will in time come up with you."</p> + +<p>"I have thought of that; and now listen. This is what you are to do. We +shall come very soon to a meeting of roads. You will there turn to the +right—"</p> + +<p>"And leave you, Monsieur Henri?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is necessary for my safety."</p> + +<p>"And you will go on to Paris alone?"</p> + +<p>"I am not going to Paris immediately—at least, I shall not go by way of +Le Mans and Chartres, as I had intended. We have already turned our +backs on that road, when we left the square in front of the inn. I shall +go by way of Vendome." Montoire—where the letter had evidently come +from and where therefore the lady probably was—lay on the road to +Vendome.</p> + +<p>"And I, Monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"You are to go back to La Tournoire, but not by the way we have come +over. This road to the right that you will soon take leads first to +Jarzé, and there you will find a road to the West which will bring you +to our own highway not two leagues from home." I repeated these +directions as we left La Flèche behind us, till they seemed firmly +lodged in Nicolas's head. "I don't know how long it will take you to do +this journey," I added, "nor even when you may expect to reach Jarzé. +You mustn't overdo either the mule or yourself. Stop at the first +country inn and get something to eat, before it is too late at night to +be served. Go on to-night as far as you think wise. It may be best, or +necessary, to sleep in some field or wood, not too near the road, as I +shall probably do toward the end of the night."</p> + +<p>"I shall certainly do that, Monsieur. It is a fine night."</p> + +<p>"When you get to La Tournoire, you are to tell my father that I am going +on without an attendant, but by way of Vendome. You needn't say anything +about what you suppose my purpose to be: you needn't repeat what you +heard me say about that lady, or the letter: you aren't to mention the +lady or the letter at all."</p> + +<p>"I understand, Monsieur Henri; but I do hope you will keep out of other +people's troubles. You have enough of your own now, over this unlucky +duel."</p> + +<p>"It's to get me out of that trouble that you are going home. Give my +father a full account of the duel. Tell him the gentleman insulted my +religion as well as myself; that he tried my patience beyond endurance. +My father will understand, I trust. And say that I shall leave it to him +to solicit my pardon of the King. I know he would prefer I should place +the matter all in his hands."</p> + +<p>"Yes, to be sure, Monsieur Henri. And of course to a gentleman who has +served him so well, the King can't refuse anything."</p> + +<p>"He is scarce likely to refuse him that favour, at any rate. My father +will know just what to do; just whom to make his petition through, and +all that. Perhaps he will go to Paris himself about it; or he may send +Blaise Tripault with letters to some of his old friends who are near the +King. But he will do whatever is best. The pardon will doubtless be +obtained before I reach Paris, as I am going by this indirect way and +may stop for awhile in the neighbourhood of Vendome. But I shall +eventually turn up at the inn we were bound for, in the Rue St. Honoré."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Monsieur, and may God land you there safe and sound!"</p> + +<p>"Tell my father that the only name by which I know my antagonist is +Monsieur de Merri. Perhaps he belonged to Montoire; at any rate, he was +acquainted there."</p> + +<p>We soon reached the place where the roads diverge. I took over my +travelling bag and cloak from Nicolas's mule to my horse, hastily +repeated my directions in summary form, supplied him with money, and +showed him his road, he very disconsolate at parting, and myself little +less so. As night was falling, and so much uncertainty lay over my +immediate future, the trial of our spirits was the greater. However, as +soon as he was moving on his way, I turned my horse forward on mine, and +tried, by admiring the stars, to soften the sense of my loneliness and +danger.</p> + +<p>I began to forget the peril of my present situation by thinking of the +affair I had undertaken. In the first place, how to find the lady? All I +knew of her was that she was probably at Montoire, that she had been +associated in some way with Monsieur de Merri, and that she now thought +herself in imminent danger. And I had in my possession a piece of her +handwriting, which, however, I should have to use very cautiously if at +all. There was, indeed, little to start with toward the task of finding +her out, but, as Montoire could not be a large place, I need not +despair. I would first, I thought, inquire about Monsieur de Merri and +what ladies were of his acquaintance. If Monsieur de Merri himself was +of Montoire, and had people living there, my presence would be a great +risk. I could not know how soon the news of his death might reach them +after my own arrival at the place, nor how close a description would be +given of his slayer—for there was little doubt that the innkeeper would +infer the true state of affairs on the discovery of the body. The dead +man's people would be clamorous for justice and the officers would be on +their mettle. Even if I might otherwise tarry in Montoire unsuspected, +my insinuating myself into the acquaintance of one of Monsieur de +Merri's friends would in itself be a suspicious move. The more I +considered the whole affair, the more foolish seemed my chosen course. +And yet I could not bear to think of that unknown lady in such great +fear, with perhaps none to aid her: though, indeed, since none but +Monsieur de Merri could save her honour and life, how could I do so? +Well, I could offer my services, at least; perhaps she meant she had +nobody else on whose willingness she could count; perhaps she really +could make as good use of me as of him. But on what pretext could I +offer myself? How could I account to her for my knowledge of her affairs +and for Monsieur de Merri's inability to come to her? To present myself +as his slayer would not very well recommend my services to her. Would +she, indeed, on any account accept my services? And even if she did, was +I clever enough to get her out of the situation she was in, whatever +that might be? Truly the whole case was a cloud. Well, I must take each +particular by itself as I came to it; be guided by circumstance, and +proceed with delicacy. The first thing to do was to find out who the +lady was; and even that could not be done till I got to Montoire, which, +being near Vendome, must be at least two days' journey from La Flèche.</p> + +<p>As I thought how much in the dark was the business I had taken on +myself, my mind suddenly reverted to the first of the monk's three +maxims that Blaise Tripault had given me, which now lay folded in my +pocket, close to the lady's note.</p> + +<p>"<i>Never undertake a thing unless you can see your way to the end of +it.</i>"</p> + +<p>I could not help smiling to think how soon chance had led me to violate +this excellent rule. But I am not likely to be confronted again by such +circumstances, thought I, and this affair once seen through, I shall be +careful; while the other maxims, being more particular, are easier to +obey, and obey them I certainly will.</p> + +<p>I rode on till near midnight, and then, for the sake of the horse as +well as the rider, I turned out of the road at a little stream, +unsaddled among some poplar trees, and lay down, with my travelling bag +for pillow, and my cloak for bed and blanket. The horse, left to his +will, chose to lie near me; and so, in well-earned sleep, we passed the +rest of the night.</p> + +<p>The next morning, when we were on the road again, I decided to exchange +talk with as many travellers as possible who were going my way, in the +hope of falling in with one who knew Montoire. At a distance from the +place, I might more safely be inquisitive about Monsieur de Merri and +his friendships than at Montoire itself. The news of what had happened +at La Flèche would not have come along the road any sooner than I had +done, except by somebody who had travelled by night and had passed me +while I slept. In the unlikelihood of there being such a person, I could +speak of Monsieur de Merri without much danger of suspicion. But even if +there was such a person, and the news had got ahead, nobody could be +confident in suspecting me. I was not the only young gentleman of my +appearance, mounted on a horse like mine, to be met on the roads that +day. And besides, I was no longer attended by a servant on a mule, as I +had been at La Flèche. So I determined to act with all freedom, accost +whom I chose, and speak boldly.</p> + +<p>Passing early through Le Lude, I breakfasted at last, and talked with +various travellers, both on the road and at the inn there, but none of +them showed any such interest, when I casually introduced the name of +Montoire, as a dweller of that place must have betrayed. To bring in the +name of the town was easy enough. As thus:—in the neighbourhood of Le +Lude one had only to mention the fine chateau there, and after admiring +it, to add: "They say there is one very like it, at some other town +along this river—I forget which—is it Montoire?—or La Chartre?—I +have never travelled this road before." A man of Montoire, or who knew +that town well, would have answered with certainty, and have added +something to show his acquaintance there. The chateau of Le Lude served +me in this manner all the way to Vaas, where there is a great church, +which answered my purpose thence to Chateau du Loir. But though I threw +out my conversational bait to dozens of people, of all conditions, not +one bite did I get anywhere on the road between Le Lude and La Chartre.</p> + +<p>It was evening when I arrived at La Chartre, and I was now thirteen +leagues from La Flèche, thanks to having journeyed half the previous +night. Anybody having left La Flèche that morning would be satisfied +with a day's journey of nine leagues to Chateau du Loir, the last +convenient stopping-place before La Chartre. So I decided to stay at La +Chartre for the night, and give my horse the rest he needed.</p> + +<p>At the inn I talked to everybody I could lay hold of, dragging in the +name of Montoire, all to no purpose, until I began to think the +inhabitants of Montoire must be the most stay-at-home people, and their +town the most unvisited town, in the world. In this manner, in the +kitchen after supper, I asked a fat bourgeois whether the better place +for me to break my next day's journey for dinner would be Troo or +Montoire.</p> + +<p>"I know no better than you," he replied with a shrug.</p> + +<p>"Pardon, Monsieur; I think you will find the better inn at Montoire," +put in a voice behind my shoulder. I turned and saw, seated on a stool +with his back to the wall, a bright-looking, well-made young fellow who +might, from his dress, have been a lawyer's clerk, or the son of a +tradesman, but with rather a more out-of-doors appearance than is +usually acquired in an office or shop.</p> + +<p>"Ah," said I, "you know those towns, then?"</p> + +<p>"I live at Montoire," said he, interestedly, as if glad to get into +conversation. "There is a fine public square there, you will see."</p> + +<p>"But it is rather a long ride before dinner, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Only about five leagues. I shall ride there for dinner to-morrow, at +all events."</p> + +<p>"You are returning home, then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Monsieur."</p> + +<p>"Have you been far away?"</p> + +<p>"That is as one may think," he replied after a moment's hesitation, +during which he seemed to decide it best to evade the question. His +travels were none of my business, and I cared not how secretive he might +be upon them. But to teach him a lesson in openness, I said:</p> + +<p>"I have travelled from Le Lude to-day."</p> + +<p>"And I too," said he, with his former interest.</p> + +<p>"I didn't see you at the inn there," said I. "You must have left early +this morning."</p> + +<p>"Yes, after arriving late last night. Yesterday evening I was at La +Flèche."</p> + +<p>I gave an inward start; but said quietly enough: "Ah?—and yet you talk +as if you had slept at Le Lude."</p> + +<p>"So I did. I travelled part of the night."</p> + +<p>"And arrived at Le Lude before midnight, perhaps?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a little before. Luckily, the innkeeper happened to be up, and he +let me in."</p> + +<p>I breathed more freely. This young man must have left La Flèche before I +had: he could know nothing of the man slain.</p> + +<p>"There is a good inn at La Flèche," I said, to continue the talk.</p> + +<p>"No doubt. I stopped only a short while, at a small house at the edge of +the town. I was in some haste."</p> + +<p>"Then you will be starting early to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Monsieur."</p> + +<p>I resolved to be watchful and start at the same time. But lest he should +have other company, or something should interfere, I decided not to lose +the present opportunity. So I began forthwith:</p> + +<p>"I have met a gentleman who comes, I think, from Montoire, or at least +is acquainted there,—a Monsieur de Merri, of about my own age."</p> + +<p>The young fellow looked at me with a sudden sharpness of curiosity, +which took me back: but I did not change countenance, and he had +repossessed himself by the time he replied:</p> + +<p>"There is a Monsieur de Merri, who is about as old as you, but he does +not live at Montoire. He sometimes comes there."</p> + +<p>Here was comfort, at least: I should not find myself among the dead +man's relations, seeking vengeance.</p> + +<p>"No doubt he has friends there?" I ventured.</p> + +<p>"No doubt, Monsieur," answered the young man, merely out of politeness, +and looking vague.</p> + +<p>"Probably he visits people in the neighbourhood," I tried again.</p> + +<p>"I cannot say," was the reply, still more absently given.</p> + +<p>"Or lives at the inn," I pursued.</p> + +<p>"It may be so." The young fellow was now glancing about the kitchen, as +if to rid himself of this talk.</p> + +<p>"Or perhaps he dwells in private lodgings when he is at Montoire," I +went on resolutely.</p> + +<p>"It might well be. There are private lodgings to be had there."</p> + +<p>"Do you know much of this Monsieur de Merri?" I asked pointblank, in +desperation.</p> + +<p>"I have seen him two or three times."</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"Where? At Montoire, of course." The speaker, in surprise, scrutinized +me again with the keen look he had shown before.</p> + +<p>It was plain, from his manner, that he chose to be close-mouthed on the +subject of Monsieur de Merri. He was one of those people who generally +have a desire to talk of themselves and all their affairs, but who can +be suddenly very secretive on some particular matter or occasion. I saw +that I must give him up, for that time at least. Perhaps on the road +next day his unwillingness to be communicative about Monsieur de Merri +would have passed away. But meanwhile, what was the cause of that +unwillingness? Did he know, after all, what had occurred at La Flèche, +and had he begun to suspect me? I inwardly cursed his reticence, and +went soon to bed, that I might rise the earlier.</p> + +<p>But early as I rose, my young friend had beaten me. The ostler to whom I +described him said he had ridden off half-an-hour ago. In no very +amiable mood, I rode after him. Not till the forenoon was half spent, +did I catch up. He saluted me politely, and gave me his views of the +weather, but was not otherwise talkative. We rode together pleasantly +enough, but there was no more of that openness in him which would have +made me feel safe in resuming the subject of Monsieur de Merri. As we +approached noon and our destination, I asked him about the different +families of consequence living thereabouts, and he mentioned several +names and circumstances, but told me nothing from which I could infer +the possibility of danger to any of their ladies. It was toward mid-day +when we rode into the great square of Montoire, and found ourselves +before the inn of the Three Kings.</p> + +<p>I turned to take leave of my travelling companion, thinking that as he +belonged to this town he would go on to his own house.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to stop here for a glass of wine and to leave my horse +awhile," he said, noticing my movement.</p> + +<p>He followed me through the archway. A stout innkeeper welcomed me, saw +me dismount, and then turned to my young fellow-traveller, speaking with +good-natured familiarity:</p> + +<p>"Ah, my child, so you are back safe after your journey. Let us see, how +long have you been away? Since Sunday morning—four days and a half. I +might almost guess where you've been, from the time—for all the secret +you make of it."</p> + +<p>The young man laughed perfunctorily, and led his horse to the stable +after the ostler who had taken mine.</p> + +<p>"A pleasant young man," said I, staying with the landlord. "He lives in +this town, he tells me."</p> + +<p>"Yes, an excellent youth. He owns his bit of land, and though his father +was a miller, his children may come near being gentlemen."</p> + +<p>I went into the kitchen, and ordered dinner. Presently my young man +entered and had his wine, which he poured down quickly. He then bowed to +me, and went away, like one who wishes to lose no time.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the whole probability of the case appeared to me in a flash. +Regardless of the wine before me, and of the dinner I had ordered, I +rose and followed him.</p> + +<p>I had put together his reticence about Monsieur de Merri, his having +been away from Montoire just four and a half days, the direction of his +journey, and his errand to be done immediately on returning. He must be +the messenger who had carried the lady's note to Sablé, and he was now +going to report its delivery and, perhaps, Monsieur de Merri's answer. +If I could dog his steps unseen, he would lead me to the lady who was in +danger.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3>WHO THE LADY WAS</h3> + + +<p>By the time I was in the court-yard, the messenger was walking out of +the archway. By the time I was at the outer end of the archway, he was +well on his way toward one of the streets that go from the square. I +waited in the shelter of the archway till he had got into that +street—or road, I should say, for it soon leaves the town, proceeding +straight in a South-easterly direction for about half a league through +the country. As soon as he was out of the square, I was after him, +stepping so lightly I could scarce hear my own footfalls. He walked +rapidly, and as one who does not think of turning to look behind, a fact +which I observed with comfort.</p> + +<p>If he was indeed the messenger, he must have been content with a very +short rest for his horse after delivering the note to Monsieur de +Merri;—must have started from Sablé as soon as, or little later than, +Monsieur de Merri himself, to be in La Flèche on the same evening that +gentleman arrived there, and to be out of it again before I was, as he +must have been if he reached Le Lude by midnight. Perhaps he was passing +through La Flèche at the very time the duel was going on; but the sum of +all was, that he could not know Monsieur de Merri was killed, and this I +felt to be fortunate for me.</p> + +<p>Another thought which I had while following him along the straight white +road that day, was that if the lady could command the services of this +able young fellow to bear a message so far, why could she not use him +directly for the saving of her life and honour? Evidently there was a +reason why mere zeal and ability would not suffice. Perhaps the +necessary service was one in which only a gentleman could be accepted. +But I feared rather that there might be some circumstance to make +Monsieur de Merri the only possible instrument; and my heart fell at +this, thinking what I had done. But I hoped for the best, and did not +lose sight of the young man ahead of me.</p> + +<p>After we had walked about twenty minutes, the road crossed a bridge and +rose to the gates of a chateau which had at one corner a very high old +tower. In front of the chateau, the road turned off sharply to the left. +A few small houses constituted such a village as one often sees huddled +about the feet of great castles. A drawbridge, which I could see between +the gate towers, indicated that the chateau and its immediate grounds +were surrounded by a moat. The messenger did not approach the gates, nor +did he follow the road to its turning. He disappeared down a lane to the +right.</p> + +<p>When I got to the lane, he had already passed out of it at the other +end. I hastened through, and caught sight of him in the open fields that +lay along the side wall of the chateau. Near the outer edge of the moat, +grew tangled bushes, and I noticed that he kept close to these, as if to +be out of sight from the chateau. At a distance ahead, skirting the rear +of the chateau enclosure, stretched the green profile of what appeared +to be a deep forest. It was this which my unconscious guide was +approaching. I soon reached the bushes by the fosse, and used them for +my own concealment in following him. When he came to the edge of the +forest, at a place near a corner of the wall environing the chateau +grounds, what did he do but stop before the first tree—a fine oak—and +proceed to climb up it? I crouched among the bushes, and looked on.</p> + +<p>When he gained the boughs he worked his way out on one that extended +toward the moat. From that height he could see across the wall. He took +a slender pole that had been concealed among the branches, tied a +handkerchief thereto, and ran it out so that the bit of white could be +seen against the leaves.</p> + +<p>"Oho! a signal!" said I to myself.</p> + +<p>Keeping the handkerchief in its position, he waited. I know not just +what part of an hour went by. I listened to the birds and sometimes to +the soft sound of a gentle breeze among the tree tops of the forest.</p> + +<p>At last the handkerchief suddenly disappeared, and my man came quickly +down the tree. Watching the chateau beyond the walls, he had evidently +seen the person approach for whom he had hung out his signal. He now +stood waiting under the tree. My heart beat fast.</p> + +<p>I heard a creaking sound, and saw a little postern open in the wall, +near the tree. A girl appeared, ran nimbly across a plank that spanned +the moat, and into the arms of my young man.</p> + +<p>Could this, then, be the woman whose life and honour was in peril? No, +for though she had some beauty, I could see at a glance that she was a +dependent. Moreover, her face shone gaily at sight of the messenger, and +she gave herself to his embrace with smothered laughter. But a moment +later, she attended seriously, and with much concern, to what he had to +say, of which I could hear nothing. I then saw what the case was: this +was a serving-maid whom the endangered lady had taken into confidence, +and who had impressed her lover into service to carry that lady's +message. The lady herself must be in that chateau,—perhaps a prisoner. +My first step must be to find out who were the dwellers in the chateau, +and as much of their affairs as the world could tell me.</p> + +<p>The interview between the two young people was not long. It ended in +another embrace; the girl ran back over the plank, waved her hand at her +lover, and disappeared, the postern door closing after her. The young +man, with a last tender look at the door, hastened back as he had come. +I had to crawl suddenly under some low bushes to avoid his sight, making +a noise which caused him to stop within six feet of me. But I suppose he +ascribed the sound to some bird or animal, for he soon went on again.</p> + +<p>I lay still for some time, being under no further necessity of observing +him. I then walked back to the inn at Montoire at a leisurely pace. +Looking into the stables when I arrived, I saw that the messenger's +horse was gone. He lived, as I afterwards learned from the innkeeper, on +another road than that which led to the chateau. I suppose he had chosen +to go afoot to the chateau for the sake of easier concealment.</p> + +<p>The innkeeper was looking amazed and injured, at my having gone away and +let my dinner spoil.</p> + +<p>"I was taken with a sudden sickness," I explained. "There's nothing like +a walk in the fresh air when the stomach is qualmish. I am quite well +now. I'll have another dinner, just what I ordered before."</p> + +<p>As this meant my paying for two dinners, the landlord was soon restored +to good-nature. He was a cheerful, hearty soul, and as communicative as +I could desire.</p> + +<p>"That is a strong chateau about half a league yonder," I said to him, as +I sipped his excellent white wine.</p> + +<p>"Yes, the Chateau de Lavardin," he replied. "Strong?—yes, indeed."</p> + +<p>"Who lives there?"</p> + +<p>"The Count de Lavardin."</p> + +<p>"What sort of man is he?"</p> + +<p>"What sort? Well!—an old man, for one thing,—or growing old. Or maybe +you mean, what does he look like?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course."</p> + +<p>"A lean old grey wolf, I have heard him likened to—without offence, of +course. Yes, he is a thin old man, but of great strength, for all that."</p> + +<p>"Is he a good landlord?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, he is not my landlord," said the innkeeper, looking as if he would +have added "Thank God!" but for the sake of prudence. "No; his estate is +very large, but it extends in the other direction from Montoire."</p> + +<p>"Is he a pleasant neighbour, then?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I have no fault to find, for my part. One mustn't believe all the +grumblers. You may hear it said of him that his smile is more frightful +than another man's rage. But people will say things, you know, when they +think they have grievances."</p> + +<p>I fancied that the innkeeper shared this opinion which he attributed to +the grumblers, and took satisfaction in getting it expressed, though too +cautious to father it himself.</p> + +<p>"Then he has no great reputation for benevolence?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't say that. We must take what we hear, with a grain of salt. +He is certainly one of the great noblemen of this neighbourhood; +certainly a brave man. You will hear silly talk, of course: how that he +is a man whose laugh makes one think of dungeon chains and the rack. But +some people will give vent to their envy of the great."</p> + +<p>I shuddered inwardly, to think that my undertaking might bring me across +the path of a man as sinister and formidable as these bits of +description seemed to indicate.</p> + +<p>"What family has he?" I asked, trying the more to seem indifferent as I +came closer to the point.</p> + +<p>"No family. His children are all dead. Some foolish folk say he expected +too much of them, and tried to bring them up too severely, as if they +had been Spartans. But that is certainly a slander, for his eldest son +was killed in battle in the last civil war."</p> + +<p>"Then he has no daughter—or grand-daughter—or niece, perhaps?"</p> + +<p>"Not that I know of. Why do you ask, Monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"I thought I saw a lady at one of the windows," said I, inventing.</p> + +<p>"No doubt. It must have been his wife. She would be the only lady +there."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but this was surely a young lady," I said, clinging to my +preconceptions.</p> + +<p>"Certainly. His new wife is young. The children I spoke of were by his +first wife, poor woman! Oh, yes, his new wife is young—beautiful too, +they say."</p> + +<p>"And how do she and the Count agree together, being rather unevenly +matched?"</p> + +<p>"That is the question. Nobody sees much of their life. She never comes +out of the grounds of the chateau, except to church sometimes, when she +looks neither to the right nor to the left."</p> + +<p>"But who are her people, to have arranged her marriage with such a man?"</p> + +<p>"Oh. I believe she has no people. An orphan, whom he took out of a +convent. A gentlewoman, yes, but of obscure family."</p> + +<p>"I can't suppose she is very happy."</p> + +<p>"Who knows, Monsieur? They do say the old wolf—I mean the Count, +Monsieur,—we are sometimes playful in our talk here at Montoire,—they +say he is terribly jealous. They say that is why he keeps her so close. +Of course I know nothing of it.—You noticed, perhaps, that the moat was +full of water. The drawbridge is up half the time. One would suppose the +Civil wars were back again. To be sure, some people hint that there may +be another reason for all that: but I, for one, take no interest in +politics."</p> + +<p>"You mean the Count is thought to be one of those who are disaffected +toward the King?"</p> + +<p>"H-sh, Monsieur! We mustn't say such things. If idle whispers go around, +we can't help hearing them; but as for repeating them, or believing +them, that's another matter. I mention only what all can see—that the +Chateau de Lavardin is kept very much closed against company. The saying +is, that it's as hard to get into the Chateau de Lavardin nowadays as +into heaven. It's very certain, the Count has no welcome for strangers."</p> + +<p>And yet somehow I should have to get into the chateau, and obtain +private speech with the Countess,—for it must be she who had summoned +Monsieur de Merri.</p> + +<p>"In that case," said I, "they must have no visitors at all. But I recall +meeting a young gentleman the other day, who was acquainted with some +great family near Montoire, and, from certain things, I think it must be +this very Lavardin family. He was a Monsieur de Merri."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes. He has stayed at this inn. It was here the Count met him, one +day when the Count was returning from the hunt. The Count was thirsty +and stopped to drink, and the young gentleman began to talk with him +about the hounds. At that time half the Count's pack were suffering from +a strange disease, which threatened the others. When the Count described +the disease, Monsieur de Merri said he knew all about it and could cure +it. The Count took him to the chateau, where he stayed a fortnight, for +you see, however jealous the count may be of his wife, he cares more for +his hounds. Monsieur de Merri cured them, and that is how he got +admission to the Chateau de Lavardin. But besides him and the red +Captain, there aren't many who can boast of that privilege."</p> + +<p>"The red Captain? Who is he?"</p> + +<p>"Captain Ferragant. He is a friend of the Count's, who comes to the +chateau sometimes and makes long visits there. Where he comes from, of +what he does when he is elsewhere, I cannot tell. He is at the chateau +now, I believe."</p> + +<p>"Why did you call him the red Captain?"</p> + +<p>"The people have given him that name. He has a great red splash down one +side of his face. They say it was caused by a burn."</p> + +<p>"Received in the wars, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"No doubt. He has fought under many banners, it is said. Some declare he +still keeps his company together, always ready for the highest bidder; +but if that's true, I don't know where he keeps it, or how he does so +without a loss when not at the wars. It is true, he brings a suite of +sturdy fellows when he comes to Lavardin; but not enough to make what +you would call a company."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he has made his fortune and retired."</p> + +<p>"He's not an old man, Monsieur, though he is the friend of the Count. He +is at the prime of life, I should say. A tall, strong man. He would be +handsome but for the red stamp on his face. He has great influence over +the Count. They drink, hunt, and play together. In many ways they are +alike. The red Captain, too, has a smile that some people are afraid of, +and a laugh that is merciless, but they are broad and bold, if you can +understand what I mean,—not like the wily chuckle of the Count. He has +big, ferocious eyes, too; while the Count's are small and half-closed. +If people will fear those two men because of their looks, I can't for my +life say which is to be feared the more."</p> + +<p>"A pleasant pair for anybody to come in conflict with," said I, as +lightly as I could.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Monsieur, and seeing that strangers are so unwelcome there, you +will do well to pass by the Chateau de Lavardin without stopping to +exchange compliments." With a jocular smile, the innkeeper went about +his business, while I finished my dinner with a mind full of misgivings.</p> + +<p>I rose from the table, left the inn, and walked back, by the straight +road of half a league, to Lavardin, pondering on the problem before me. +It was a natural feeling that I might come by an inspiration more +probably in the presence of the chateau than away from it. There was a +little cabaret in the village, in full sight of the chateau gates, and +just far enough back from the road to give room for two small tables in +front. At one of these tables a man was already sitting, so I took +possession of the other and called for a bottle of wine. I then sat +there, slowly sipping, with my eyes on the chateau, hoping that by +contemplation thereof, or perhaps by some occurrence thereabout, I might +arrive at some idea of how to proceed. The drawbridge was not up, but +the gates were closed. From where I sat, I could see the gate towers, a +part of the outer wall, the turreted top of the chateau itself beyond +the court, and the great high tower, which looked very ancient and +sombre. But the more I looked, the more nearly impossible it appeared +that I could devise means of getting into the place and to the ear of +the Countess.</p> + +<p>As I was gazing at the chateau, I had a feeling that the man at the +other table was gazing at me. I glanced at him, but seemed to have been +mistaken. He was looking absently at the sky over my head. I now took +thought of what a very silent, motionless, undemonstrative man this was. +He was thin and oldish, and of moderate stature, with a narrow face, +pale eyes, and a very long nose. He was dressed in dull brown cloth, and +was in all respects—save his length of nose—one of those persons of +whom nobody ever takes much note. And he in turn did not seem to take +much note of the world. He looked at the sky, the house roofs and the +road, but his thoughts did not appear to concern themselves with these +things, or with anything, unless with the wine which he, like myself, +sipped in a leisurely manner.</p> + +<p>I dismissed him from my attention, and resumed my observation of the +chateau. But nobody came nor went, the gates did not open, nothing +happened to give me an idea. When I looked again at the other table, the +long-nosed man was gone. It was as if he had simply melted away.</p> + +<p>"Who was the man sitting there?" I asked the woman of the cabaret.</p> + +<p>"I don't know, Monsieur. He arrived here this morning. I never saw him +before to-day."</p> + +<p>In the evening I went back to Montoire, no nearer the solution of my +problem than before. Nor did a sleepless night help me any: I formed a +dozen fantastic schemes, only to reject every one of them as impossible. +What made all this worse, was the consideration that time might be of +the utmost importance in the affairs of the imperilled lady.</p> + +<p>The next morning I went to view the chateau from other points than the +village cabaret. This time I took the way the messenger had led +me,—turned down the lane, and traversed the fields by the moat. I sat +where I had hid the day before; staring at the postern and the wall, +over which birds flew now and then, indicating that there was a garden +on the other side. Receiving no suggestion here, I took up my station at +the tree from which the messenger had shown the handkerchief. I thought +of climbing it, to see over the wall. But just as I had formed my +resolution, I happened to glance over the fields and see a man strolling +idly along near the edge of the moat. As he came nearer, I recognized +him as the long-nosed gentleman in the brown doublet and hose.</p> + +<p>He saw me, and gazed, in his absent way, with a momentary curiosity. +Angry at being caught almost in the act of spying out the land, I +hastened off, passing between the rear wall and the forest which grew +nearly to the moat, and to which the tree itself belonged. In this way, +I soon left my long-nosed friend behind, and came out on the opposite +side of the chateau.</p> + +<p>Here I found a hillock, from the top of which I could see more of the +chateau proper and the other contents of the great walled enclosure. I +sat for some time regarding them, but the towers, turrets, roofs, +windows, and tree tops engendered no project in my mind.</p> + +<p>Suddenly I heard a low, discreet cough behind me, and, looking around, +saw the long-nosed man standing not six feet away.</p> + +<p>The sight gave me a start, for I had neither heard nor seen him +approach, though the way I had come was within my field of vision. He +must have made a wide circle through the woods.</p> + +<p>His mild eyes were upon me. "Good morning, Monsieur," said he, in a dry, +small voice.</p> + +<p>"Good morning," said I, rather ungraciously.</p> + +<p>He came close to me, and said, with a faint look of amusement:</p> + +<p>"May I tell you what is your chief thought at present, Monsieur?"</p> + +<p>After a moment, I deemed it best to answer, "If you wish."</p> + +<p>"It is that you would give half the money in your purse to get into that +chateau yonder."</p> + +<p>At first I could only look astonishment. Then I considered it wise to +take his remark as a joke; accordingly I laughed, and asked, "How do you +know that?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I have observed you yesterday and to-day. You have a very eloquent +countenance, Monsieur. Well, I don't blame you for wishing you could get +over those walls. I have been young myself: I know what an attraction a +pretty maid is."</p> + +<p>So he thought it was some love affair with a lady's maid that lay behind +the wish he had divined in me. I saw no reason to undeceive him; so I +merely said, "And what is all this to you, Monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"Hum!—that depends," he replied. "Tell me first, are you known to the +Count de Lavardin or his principal people—by sight, I mean?"</p> + +<p>"Neither by sight nor otherwise."</p> + +<p>"Good! Excellent!" said the man, looking really pleased. "I dared hope +as much, when the woman at the cabaret said you were a stranger. What is +all this to me? you ask. Well, as I have taken the liberty to read your +thoughts, I will be frank with you in regard to my own. I also have a +desire to see the inside of that chateau, and, as I haven't the honour +of the Count's acquaintance, and he is very suspicious of strangers, I +must resort to my devices. My reasons for wanting to be admitted yonder +are my own secret, but I assure you they won't conflict with yours. So, +as I have been studying you a little, and think you a gentleman to be +trusted, I propose that we shall help each other, as far as our object +is the same. In other words, Monsieur, if you will do as I say, I +believe we may both find ourselves freely admitted to the Chateau de +Lavardin before this day is over. Once inside, each shall go about his +purposes without any concern for the other. What do you think of it, +Monsieur?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<h3>THE CHATEAU DE LAVARDIN</h3> + + +<p>All that I could think was that, if genuine, the offer came as a most +unexpected piece of good luck, and that, if it was a trick, my +acceptance of it could not much add to the danger which attended my +purpose at best. In any case, this man already had me under scrutiny. +So, after some little display of surprise and doubt, I took him at his +word, inwardly reserving the right to draw back if I found myself +entering a trap. The man's very proposal involved craft as against the +master of the chateau, but toward me he seemed to be acting with the +utmost simplicity and honesty, so straightforward and free from +excessive protestation he was.</p> + +<p>He led me away to a quiet, secluded place by the riverside, out of sight +of the chateau, that we might talk the matter over in safety. And first +he asked me what I knew of the disposition and habits of the Count de +Lavardin. I told him as much as the innkeeper had told me.</p> + +<p>"Hum!" said he, reflectively; "it agrees with what I have heard. I have +been pumping people a little, in a harmless way. The first thing I +learned was the Count's churlish practice of closing his gates to +strangers, which forces us to use art in obtaining the hospitality we +are entitled to by general custom. So I had to discover some inclination +or hobby of the man's, that I could make use of to approach him. I don't +see how we can reach him through his love of dogs, without having +prepared ourselves with special knowledge and a fine hound or so to +attract his attention. As for his jealousy, it would be too hazardous to +play upon that: besides, I shouldn't like to cook up a tale about his +wife, unless put to it."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, don't speak of such a thing," I said indignantly.</p> + +<p>"No, it wouldn't do. I can't think of a better plan than the one that +first occurred to me. As it required a confederate, I put it aside. But +when I observed you yesterday regarding the chateau so wistfully, I said +to myself, 'No doubt heaven has sent this young man to help me, and that +I in turn may help him.' But I waited to make sure, watching you last +night and this morning till I was convinced of your desire to get into +the chateau."</p> + +<p>It was a surprise to me to learn that I had been watched, but I took it +coolly.</p> + +<p>"The plan I had thought of," he went on, "required that my confederate +should be unknown to the Count and those near him. When I find that you, +who are anxious for your own reasons to enter the chateau, fulfil that +requirement, I can only think the more that heaven has brought us +together. It is more than heaven usually does for one."</p> + +<p>"But what else does your plan require of me?" I asked, impatient to know +what must be faced.</p> + +<p>"You play chess, of course?" was his interrogative answer.</p> + +<p>"A little," said I, wondering what that had to do with the case.</p> + +<p>"Then all is fair ahead of us. Luckily. I play rather well myself. As I +said just now, I have been nosing among the people—nosing is a good +word in my case, isn't it?"—he pointed to his much-extended +proboscis—"I have been nosing about to learn the Count's ruling +passions and so forth. When you have anybody to hoodwink, or obtain +access to without creating suspicion, find out what are his likings and +preoccupations: be sure there will be something there of which you can +avail yourself. From the village priest I learned that, along with his +fondness for hunting and drinking and the lower forms of gaming, the +Count has a taste for more intellectual amusements, and chiefly for the +game of chess. He is a most excellent player, and doesn't often find a +worthy antagonist. His bosom friend, one Captain Ferragant, who is now +living at the chateau, has no skill at chess, so the Count has been put +to sending for this priest to come and play a game now and then, but the +Count beats him too easily for any pleasure and the result of their +games is that the Count only curses the rarity of good chess-players."</p> + +<p>"And so you think of proposing a game with him?"</p> + +<p>"Not exactly," said the long-nosed man, with a faint smile at my +simplicity. "An obscure man like me, travelling without a servant, +doesn't propose games to a great nobleman, at the great nobleman's own +gates. The great nobleman may condescend to invite, but the obscure +traveller may not presume to offer himself,—not, at least, without +creating wonder and some curiosity as to his motives. No; that would be +too direct, moreover. It would suggest that I had been inquisitive about +him, to have learned that he is fond of chess. I may tell you that the +Count has his reasons for imagining that strangers may come trying to +get access to him, who have taken pains to learn something of his ways +beforehand. He has his reasons for suspecting every stranger who seeks +to enter his gates. No; we must neither show any knowledge of him, more +than his name, nor any desire to get into his house. We must play upon +his hobby without openly appealing to it. That is why two of us are +necessary. This is what we will do."</p> + +<p>I listened with great interest, surprised to discover what acuteness of +mind was hidden behind the pale, meek eyes and un-expressive pasty +countenance of this man with the long nose.</p> + +<p>"In an hour or so from now," he said, "I shall be sitting before the +cabaret, where you saw me yesterday. You will come there, from wandering +about the fields, and we will greet each other as having met casually on +our walks this morning—as indeed we actually have met. You will sit +down to refresh yourself with a bottle of wine, and we shall get into +conversation, like the strangers that we are to each other. The people +of the cabaret will hear us, more or less, and the porter at the chateau +gates will doubtless observe us. I will presently lead the talk to the +subject of chess. You will profess to be ardently devoted to the game. I +will show an equally great passion for it. We will express much regret +that we have no chessmen with us, and will inquire if any can be +obtained in the village. I know already that none can be: the priest +once owned a set, but he let the village children use them as toys and +they are broken up. Well, then, rather than lose the opportunity of +encountering a first-class player, you will suggest that we try to +borrow chessmen from the owner of that great chateau, who must surely +possess such things, as no great house is ever without them. You will +thereupon write a note to the Count, saying we are two gentlemen who +have met on our travels, and both claiming to be skilled chess-players, +and hating to part without a trial of prowess, but lacking chessmen, we +take upon ourselves to ask if he may have such a thing as a set which he +will allow us the use of for half a day; and so forth. We will bid the +woman at the cabaret take this note to the porter; and then we have but +to await the result."</p> + +<p>"And what will that be?"</p> + +<p>"We shall see when it comes," said the man tranquilly. I know not +whether he really felt the serene confidence he showed; but he seemed to +be going on the sure ground of past experience. "It will be necessary to +give names and some account of ourselves, no doubt, before all is done. +We shall not be expected to know anything of each other, having only met +as travellers so recently. To the Count I will call myself Monsieur de +Pepicot, a poor gentleman of Amiens. As for you, is there any reason why +you shouldn't use your own name? When you want to deceive anybody, it is +well to be strictly truthful as far as your object will permit."</p> + +<p>"The only reason is, that I may get into the Count's bad graces by what +I may do in his house, and it would be better if he didn't know where to +look for me afterwards."</p> + +<p>"Well, there's something in that. The Count is not a forgiving man. And +yet, as to his power of revenge, I know not—Well, do as you please."</p> + +<p>"Oh, devil take it, I'll go under my own name, let come what may! I +don't like the idea of masquerading."</p> + +<p>"A brave young gentleman! Then there's no more to be said. When we are +inside the chateau, it will be each of us for himself, though of course +we must keep up the comedy of wishing to play chess. Meet me by chance +at the cabaret, then, in about an hour."</p> + +<p>Without any more ado, he left me. Coming forth from the concealed place +a minute later, I saw him strolling along the river, looking at the +fields and the sky, as if nothing else were on his mind. I presently +imitated him, but went in another direction. In due time I made my way +to the cabaret, and there he was, at the table where I had first seen +him.</p> + +<p>We spoke to each other as had been arranged, and easily carried the +conversation to the desired point, mostly in the hearing of the woman of +the cabaret as she sat knitting by the door. When it came to writing the +note, the long-nosed man tore a leaf of paper out of his pocket book, +and had pen and ink fetched from his lodging over the cabaret; I then +composed our request in as courteous phrases as I thought suitable. The +woman herself carried the note to the chateau gates, and we saw a grated +wicket open, and a scowling fellow show his face there, who questioned +her, glanced at us with no friendly look, took the note, and closed the +wicket. We waited half an hour or so, sipping our wine and talking +carelessly, till I imagined the long-nosed man was becoming a little +doubtful. But just as he was losing his placidity so far as to cross one +leg over another, the chateau gate opened, and a heavy, dark-browed +fellow with the appearance rather of a soldier than of a servant, came +out, and over to us, scrutinizing us keenly as he approached. He asked +if we were the gentlemen who had written to borrow a set of chessmen. +Being so informed, he said:</p> + +<p>"Monsieur the Count, my master, begs to be excused from sending his +chessmen to you, but if you will come to them he will be glad to judge +of your playing; and perhaps to offer the winner a bout with himself."</p> + +<p>We took half a minute to evince our pleased surprise, our sense of +favour, and so forth, at this courteous invitation,—and then we +followed the servant to the chateau. It was amusing to see how +innocently, decorously, and consciously of unexpected honour my +long-nosed friend walked through the gateway, and gazed with childlike +admiration around the court-yard and the grey façade of the chateau +confronting us.</p> + +<p>A few wide steps led up to the arched door, which admitted us to a large +hall plentifully furnished with tables, benches, and finely-carved +chairs. It was panelled in oak and hung with arms, boars' heads, and +other trophies. At the upper end of a long table, the one leaning +forward from a chair at the head, the other from the bench at the side, +lounged two men, whom I recognized instantly from the descriptions of +the innkeeper as if from painted portraits. They were the Count de +Lavardin and Captain Ferragant.</p> + +<p>Yes, there was the "lean old grey wolf," grey not only in his bristly +hair and short pointed beard, but even in the general hue of his wizen +face; grey as to the little eyes that peered out between their narrowed +slits; grey even, on this occasion, as to his velvet doublet and +breeches. Though his face was wizen, the leanness of his body had no +appearance of weakness, but rather every sign of strength. I noticed +that his fingers seemed to possess great crunching power, and there was +always on his face the faint beginning of a smile which, I thought, +would heighten into glee when those fingers were in the act of +strangling somebody.</p> + +<p>As for the Captain, there was indeed a great blotch of deep red across +his cheek; he was a large, powerful fellow, with a bold, insolent face, +and fierce, pitiless eyes. To make his sobriquet the fitter, he wore a +suit of crimson, very rich and ornate. His beard and hair, however, were +black.</p> + +<p>"You are welcome, gentlemen," said the Count, in a harsh, thin voice. +"From what part do you come?"</p> + +<p>"From different parts," said my long-nosed companion. "We have only met +as strangers going opposite ways. I am Monsieur de Pepicot, of the +neighbourhood of Amiens, travelling to Angers to see some kinsfolk."</p> + +<p>The Count turned to me, and I recited my name and place, adding that I +was going to Paris, to see a little of the world, and therefore +journeying somewhat indirectly.</p> + +<p>"And behold here Monsieur the Captain Ferragant, who comes from +Burgundy," said the Count, "so that we have North, West, and East all +represented."</p> + +<p>Captain Ferragant bowed as politeness required, but he went no further. +He did not seem to relish our being there. His look was rather +disdainful, I thought, as if we were nobodies unfit for the honour of +his company. And very soon, while the Count was saying we must stay to +dinner, as there was not time for a game of chess before, the Captain +walked away and out of the hall. Seeing that we were to be his guests +for the day, the Count had us shown to a rather remote chamber up two +flights of stairs, where water was brought, and where we were left alone +together. The chamber looked out on a small part of the garden at the +rear of the chateau.</p> + +<p>"Well," said I, washing my hands, "you have played the magician. It has +been as easy as walking, to get into the chateau."</p> + +<p>"Will it be easy to get out again, when our business is done, I wonder?" +replied Monsieur de Pepicot, gazing out of the window at the distant +high wall of the garden.</p> + +<p>"Why do you say that?" I asked, a little surprised at his tone.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I was thinking of the manner in which the gate slammed to, after we +had entered. It is a mere inanimate gate, to be sure, but it was slammed +by a porter, and his manner of slamming it might unconsciously express +what was in his mind. You remember, the Count was rather long in coming +to a decision upon our note. If it occurred to him, after all, that we +might have some design, and that people with a design would be safer +inside than outside—well, I mention this only that you may know to keep +your wits about you."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, but I see no reason to fear anything. Everything seems to be +going admirably. We are assured of some time in which to attend to our +affairs. While one of us is playing chess with the Count, the other will +be free to roam about,—that suits me perfectly. I begin to feel really +grateful for the Count's hospitality—I almost dislike having won it by +a trick."</p> + +<p>"Pish! He is churlish enough as a rule in the matter of +hospitality—it's only fair to win it by a trick."</p> + +<p>I was inwardly much excited at the near prospect of dinner, as the meal +would perhaps give me a sight of the Countess. But of this I was +disappointed. The only people who sat down at the upper table, when +dinner was served in the hall, were the Count, the Captain, my friend +Monsieur de Pepicot, and myself. Elsewhere the benches were crowded with +fellows who, like him that had brought our invitation, appeared as much +warriors as serving men, and their number alone would have arrested +notice. I now recalled how many knaves of this sort I had seen in the +court-yard as I entered the chateau, but at that time I had had other +things to think of.</p> + +<p>The Count said nothing of the absence of his lady, and, as we could +scarce be thought to know whether he had a Countess living, it was not +for us to inquire about her. I spent my time wondering what could be her +situation, and whether her not appearing had anything to do with the +danger in which she supposed herself. My long-nosed friend ate very +industriously, and most of the conversation was between the Count and +the Captain, upon dogs and hawks and such things. When the Count +addressed either Monsieur de Pepicot or me, the Captain was silent. This +reticence, whether it proceeded from jealousy or contempt, seemed to +afford the Count a little amusement, for he turned his small eyes on the +Captain and stretched his thin lips in a smile that was truly horrible +in its relish of another's discontent.</p> + +<p>After dinner, the Count had the chessmen brought at once, and sat down +to watch us at our game. The Captain, with a glance of disapproval at +the chessboard, strolled away as he had done before. I was but a +moderately good player, and discomposed besides, so I held out scarce an +hour against the long-nosed gentleman, who was evidently of great skill. +Apparently the Count, by his ejaculations, thought little of my playing, +but he was so glad when my defeat made room for him, that I escaped his +displeasure. I too was glad, for now, while Monsieur de Pepicot kept the +Count occupied at chess, I should be free to go about the chateau in +search for its mistress. And grateful I was to Monsieur de Pepicot for +having beaten me, for he might easily have left me as the victor and +used this opportunity for his own purpose. I could not think it was +generosity that had made him do otherwise: I could only wonder what his +purpose was, that would bear so much waiting.</p> + +<p>For appearance's sake, I watched the two players awhile: then I imitated +the Captain, and sauntered to the court-yard, wondering if there might +be any servant there whom I could sound. But the men lounging there were +not of a simple-looking sort. They were all of forbidding aspect, and +they stared at me so hard that I returned into the hall. The Count was +intent upon the game. Pushed by the mere impulse of inquiry, I went up +the staircase as if to go to the chamber to which I had before been +conducted. But instead of going all the way up, I turned off at the +first landing into a short corridor, resolved to wander wherever I +might: if anybody stopped me, I could pretend to have lost my way.</p> + +<p>The corridor led into a drawing-room richly tapestried and furnished; +that into another room, which contained musical instruments; that into a +gallery where some portraits were hung. So far I had got access by a +series of curtained archways. The further end of the gallery was closed +by a door. I was walking toward that door, when I heard a step in the +room I had last traversed. I immediately began to look at the pictures.</p> + +<p>A man entered and viewed me suspiciously. He was, by his dress and air, +a servant of some authority in the household, and had not the military +rudeness of the fellows in the court-yard.</p> + +<p>"What is it Monsieur will have?" he asked, with outward courtesy enough.</p> + +<p>"I am looking at the portraits," said I.</p> + +<p>"I will explain them to you," said he. "That is Monsieur the Count in +his youth, painted at Paris by a celebrated Italian." And he went on to +point out the Count's children, now dead, and his first wife, before +going back to a former generation.</p> + +<p>"And the present Countess?" said I at last, looking around the walls in +vain.</p> + +<p>"There is no portrait of Madame the Countess."</p> + +<p>"She was not at dinner," I ventured. "Is she not well?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, she is well, I am happy to say. She often dines in her own +apartments."</p> + +<p>"She is well and yet keeps to her apartments?" I said, with as much +surprise as I thought the circumstance might naturally occasion.</p> + +<p>"She does not keep to her apartments exactly," replied the man, a little +annoyed. "She walks in the garden much of the time. Is there anything +else I may show you, Monsieur?"</p> + +<p>He stood at the curtained entrance, as if to attend my leaving the room, +and I thought best to take the hint. No doubt he had purposely followed +me, to hinder my going too far.</p> + +<p>I returned to the hall, which was very silent, the two players being +deep in their chess. Somewhere in my wake the manservant vanished, and I +seemed free to explore in another direction. The Countess walked much in +the garden, the man had said. It was a fine afternoon—might she not be +walking there now?</p> + +<p>Feigning carelessness, I went out a small door at the rear of the hall, +and found myself in that narrow part of the garden which lay between two +wings of the house, and which our chamber overlooked. This part, which +was really a terrace, was separated by a low Italian balustrade from the +greater garden below and beyond. I walked up the middle path to where +there was an opening in the balustrade at the head of a flight of steps. +But here my confidence received a check. Half-way down the steps was +sitting a burly fellow, who rose at my appearance, and said:</p> + +<p>"Pardon, Monsieur: no further this way, if you please. I am ordered to +stop everybody."</p> + +<p>"But I am the Count's guest," said I.</p> + +<p>"It is all the same. Nobody is to go down to the garden yonder without +orders."</p> + +<p>"Orders from the Count?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"From the Count or the Captain."</p> + +<p>I nearly let out my thought that the Captain had a good deal of +authority at the chateau, but I closed my lips in time. To show +insistence would only injure my purpose: so I contented myself with a +glance at the forbidden territory—a very spacious pleasance, indeed, +with walks, banks of flowers, arbours, and alleys, but with nobody there +to enjoy it that I could see—and went back to the hall.</p> + +<p>As I could not sit there long inactive, for considering how the time was +flying and I had accomplished nothing, I soon started in good faith for +the chamber to which I had feigned to be going before. Once upstairs, +however, it occurred to me to walk pass the door of that chamber, to the +end of the corridor. This passage soon turned leftward into a rear wing +of the building. I followed it, between chamber doors on one side and, +on the other, windows looking down on the smaller garden. It terminated +at last in a blind wall. I supposed myself to be now over that part of +the house which lay beyond the closed door at the end of the picture +gallery. I looked cautiously out of one of the windows, wondering how +much of the great garden might be visible from there. I could see a +large part of it, but not a soul anywhere in it. As I drew back in +disappointment, I was suddenly startled by a low sound that seemed to +come from somewhere beneath me—a single brief sound, which made my +breath stop and pierced my very heart.</p> + +<p>It was the sob of a woman.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h3>WHAT THE PERIL WAS</h3> + + +<p>It seemed to me like a sob of despair, or of the breaking down of +patience, and, knowing what I did already, I quickly imagined it to +proceed from the Countess in a moment when she was beginning to lose +hope of Monsieur de Merri's arrival. To me, therefore, it seemed a stab +of reproach.</p> + +<p>I judged that it came by way of the window below me. So forthwith, at +all hazards, sheltering myself from outside view as well as I could with +the casement, I thrust my head out over the sill, and said in a low +tone:</p> + +<p>"Madame."</p> + +<p>I waited for some moments, with a beating heart, and then called again, +"Madame."</p> + +<p>I thought I heard whispering below. Then a head was thrust out of the +window—a woman's head, soft haired and shapely. "Here I am," I +whispered. The head twisted round, and the face was that of the young +woman who had received the messenger at the postern the day before. But +it was clear that she had not been sobbing, though her face wore a look +of concern.</p> + +<p>"I must speak with Madame the Countess," said I, and added what I +thought would most expedite matters: "I bring news of Monsieur de +Merri."</p> + +<p>The head disappeared: there was more whispering: then the maid looked +out again, using similar precautions to mine with regard to the +casement.</p> + +<p>"Who are you, Monsieur?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I will explain all later. There is little time now. I may soon be +looked for. Contrive to let me have an interview with Madame the +Countess. I don't know how to get to her: I'm not acquainted with the +chateau."</p> + +<p>"Put your head a little further out, Monsieur,—so that I can see your +face."</p> + +<p>I obeyed. She gazed at me searchingly, then withdrew her head again. +Reappearing very soon, she said: "Madame has decided to trust you. These +are her apartments. There is a door from a gallery where pictures +hang—"</p> + +<p>"I have been to that gallery," I interrupted, "but I was watched while +there. Is there no other way?"</p> + +<p>She thought a moment. "Yes, the garden. At the foot of the terrace, turn +to the right, till you get to the end of this wing."</p> + +<p>"But the man at the steps yonder will stop me. He has done so already."</p> + +<p>"That beast! Alas, yes! Well, I will go and talk with him, and keep him +looking at me. You go down to the terrace without attracting any +attention, walk close to the house till you get to this end of the +balustrade, step over the balustrade, descend the bank as quietly as +possible, and wait behind the shrubbery near the door at the end of this +wing,—it's the door from Madame's apartments to the garden. Do you +understand?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly."</p> + +<p>"Then I will be talking to that man by the time you can get to the +terrace. I go at once. Be quick, Monsieur,—and careful."</p> + +<p>Admiring the swift wits and decision of the girl, I hastened through the +corridor, down the stairs, and into the hall. The Count and the +long-nosed man were so buried in their game that neither looked up. A +pair of varlets in attendance were yawning on a bench. Yawning in +imitation, I passed with feigned listlessness to the terrace, went +noiselessly along by the house-wall, and followed the wing to the end of +the balustrade. I did not venture even to look toward the steps, but I +could hear the maid talking and laughing coquettishly. I crossed the +balustrade by sitting on it and swinging my legs over: then strode on +light feet down the grassy bank and through an opening in the shrubbery +I saw at my right. I found myself in a walk which, bordered all the way +by shrubbery, ran from a narrow door in the end of the wing to the other +extremity of the garden. The door, when I first glanced at it, was +slightly ajar: I supposed the maid had left it so. But as soon as I had +come to a halt in the walk, the door opened, and a very young, very +slender, very sad-faced, very beautiful lady came out, with eyes turned +upon me in a mixture of hope and fear.</p> + +<p>I instinctively fell upon my knee before that picture of grief and +beauty. She wore, I remember, a gown of faded blue, and blue was the +colour of her eyes—a soft, fair blue, like that of the sky. She was so +slim, sorrowful, small, childlike, forlorn,—I would have died to serve +her.</p> + +<p>She looked at me searchingly, as the maid had done, but with more +courtesy, and then, in a low voice bidding me follow her, led the way +down the walk and into a side path that wound among some tall +rose-bushes. Here we could not be seen from the walk and yet we might +hear anybody approaching. She stopped and faced me.</p> + +<p>"You have news of Monsieur de Merri," she said eagerly. "What of him?"</p> + +<p>"He is prevented from coming to you, Madame."</p> + +<p>Her face, pale before, turned white as a sheet.</p> + +<p>"But," I hastened to add, "I have come in his stead, and I will serve +you as willingly as he."</p> + +<p>"But that will not do," she said, in great agitation. "Nobody can serve +me at this pass <i>but</i> Monsieur de Merri. Where is he? What prevents +him?"</p> + +<p>"I left him at La Flèche," said I lamely. "I assure you it is utterly +impossible for him to come. But believe me, I am wholly yours for +whatever service you desired of him. You can see that I have come from +him." I took from my pocket her note, and held it out. I then told her +my name and parentage, and begged her not to distrust me because I was +of another religion than hers.</p> + +<p>"It isn't that I don't believe you, Monsieur," she replied. "It isn't +that I doubt your willingness to help me."</p> + +<p>"As to my ability, try me, Madame. My zeal will inspire me."</p> + +<p>"I don't doubt your ability to do brave and difficult things, Monsieur. +But it is not that. It happens—the circumstances are such—alas, nobody +but Monsieur de Merri himself can help me! If you but knew! If <i>he</i> but +knew!"</p> + +<p>"Tell me the case, Madame. Trust me, I beg. Let me be the judge as to +whether I can help you."</p> + +<p>"I do trust you. I am not afraid to tell you. You will see plainly +enough. It is this: I have been slandered to my husband. A week has been +given me in which to clear myself. The week ends to-morrow. If I have +not proved my innocence by that time, God knows what fate my husband +will inflict upon me!"</p> + +<p>She shuddered and closed her eyes.</p> + +<p>"But your innocence, Madame—who can doubt it?"</p> + +<p>"My husband is a strange man, Monsieur. He has little faith in women."</p> + +<p>"But what slander can he believe of you? And who could utter it? What is +its nature?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose it is my husband's friend, Captain Ferragant, who uttered it. +The nature of it is, that Monsieur de Merri's name is associated with +mine. Monsieur de Merri is said to have made a boast about me, in the +tavern at Montoire. It is a hideous lie, invented when Monsieur de Merri +had gone away. And now you see how only Monsieur de Merri can save me, +by coming and facing our accusers and swearing to my innocence. But +to-morrow is the last day. Oh, if he had known why I wanted him! It is +too late now—or is it? Perhaps he sent you ahead? Perhaps he is coming +after you? Is it not so? He will be here to-morrow, will he not?"</p> + +<p>Bitterly I shook my head.</p> + +<p>"Then I am lost," she said, in a whisper of despair.</p> + +<p>"But that cannot be. It isn't for you to prove your innocence—it is for +your accuser to prove your guilt. He cannot do that."</p> + +<p>"You do not know the Count de Lavardin. He will believe any ill of a +woman, and anything that Captain Ferragant tells him. The fact that +Monsieur de Merri is young and accomplished is enough. My husband has +suspected me from the hour of our marriage. And besides that, people at +Montoire have testified that they heard Monsieur de Merri boast of +conquests. Whether that be true or not, it could not have been of me +that he boasted. And if he but knew how I stand, how readily he would +fly to clear me! He is no coward, I am sure."</p> + +<p>I had evidence of that: evidence also of Monsieur de Merri's unfortunate +habit of boasting of conquests. But I was convinced that it could not +have been of her that he had boasted. These thoughts, however, were but +transient flashings across my sense of the plight in which I had put +this unhappy woman by killing Monsieur de Merri. I tried to minimize +that plight.</p> + +<p>"But your fears are exaggerated. Your husband will not dare go too far."</p> + +<p>"He will dare take my life—or lock me up for the rest of my days in a +dungeon—or I know not what. He is all-powerful on his estate—lord of +life and death. You know what these great noblemen do when they believe +their wives unfaithful. I have heard how the Prince de Condé—"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but the Count de Lavardin would have your relations to fear."</p> + +<p>"I have no relations. I was an orphan in a convent. The Count took a +fancy to my face, they told me. They urged me to consent to the +marriage. I could not displease them—I had never disobeyed them. And +now this is the end. Well, I am in the hands of God." She glanced +upwards and gave a sigh of bitter resignation.</p> + +<p>"But after all," I interposed, "you are not certain how your husband +will act."</p> + +<p>"He has threatened the worst vengeance if I cannot clear myself +to-morrow. If you knew him, Monsieur!"</p> + +<p>"He allowed you a week, you say.—"</p> + +<p>"From the day he accused me—last Saturday."</p> + +<p>"And what facilities did he give you for the purpose?"</p> + +<p>"His men and horses were at my service. He knew, of course, that all I +could do was to send for Monsieur de Merri."</p> + +<p>"But why did he not send for Monsieur de Merri?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. I suppose he was ruled by the advice of Captain +Ferragant. Perhaps he thought Monsieur de Merri would not come at his +request."</p> + +<p>"But you did not use your husband's men and horses to send for Monsieur +de Merri."</p> + +<p>"No. Mathilde—my maid whom you saw just now—thought I would better act +secretly. She feared the Captain would bribe the messenger to make only +a pretence of taking my message to Monsieur de Merri. In that case +Monsieur de Merri, knowing nothing, would not come, and his not coming +would be taken as evidence of guilt—as it will be now, though he got my +message, for Hugues is faithful. Why is it, Monsieur, that Monsieur de +Merri sent back word by Hugues that he would follow close, if he could +not come?"</p> + +<p>"Something happened afterward. Hugues, then, is the name of the +messenger you sent?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. He is devoted to Mathilde. They are accustomed to meet at certain +times. Mathilde has not much freedom, as you may guess, sharing my life +as she does. So she contrived to get possession for awhile of the key to +a postern yonder, and to pass it to Hugues when he came with flour. He +had a duplicate made, so that she could restore the original and yet +retain a key with which to let herself out and meet him in the forest. +Thus she was able to see him last Sunday morning, and to send him after +Monsieur de Merri. We knew that De Merri had started Westward, and +Hugues traced him from town to town. Ah, when Hugues returned +successful, how rejoiced we were! We expected Monsieur de Merri every +hour. But the time went by, and our hopes changed to fears, and now, +heaven pity me, it is the fears that have come true!"</p> + +<p>"But you are not yet lost. Even if the Count should be so blind as to +think you guilty, you have at least one resource. You have the key to +the postern. You can flee."</p> + +<p>"And be caught before I had fled two leagues. I am visited every three +hours, as if I were a prisoner, and as soon as I was missed a score of +men would be sent in all directions. Besides, for some reason or other, +the Count has the roads watched from the tower. If I fled into the +forest, the bloodhounds would be put on my track. My husband has hinted +all this to me. And where could I flee to but the Convent? The Count +would have men there before I could reach it."</p> + +<p>"I could find some other place to take you to," said I at a hazard.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Monsieur, then indeed would appearances be against me. Then indeed +would the enemy of my poor reputation have his triumph. Alas, there is +no honourable place in this world for a wife who leaves her husband's +roof, though it be her prison. I will be true to my vows, though I die. +If there be wrong, it shall be all of his doing, none of mine."</p> + +<p>"You believe it is this Captain who has slandered you. Why should he do +that? Why is he your enemy?"</p> + +<p>She blushed and looked down. I understood.</p> + +<p>"But why do you not tell your husband that?" I asked quickly.</p> + +<p>"The Count says it is an old story that wives accuse their husbands' +friends whom they dislike. He thinks women are made of lies. And in any +case he says if I am innocent of this charge I can prove my innocence. +So all depended on Monsieur de Merri's being here to-morrow to speak for +me."</p> + +<p>"Ah, Madame, if only my speaking for you would avail anything!"</p> + +<p>"From the depths of my heart I thank you, Monsieur, though you see how +useless you—And yet there is one thing you can say for me!" A great +light of sudden hope dawned upon her face. "You can tell how you saw +Monsieur de Merri—that he was coming here, but was prevented—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I can do that."</p> + +<p>"And perhaps—who knows?—you can induce the Count to give me a few more +days, till the cause of Monsieur de Merri's delay is past. And then you +can ride or send to Monsieur de Merri, and tell him my situation, and he +will come and put my accuser to shame, after all! Yes, thank God, there +is hope! Oh, Monsieur, you may yet be able to save me!"</p> + +<p>There were tears of joy on her face, and she gratefully clasped my hand +in both of hers.</p> + +<p>It sickened my heart to do it, but I could only shake my head sadly and +say:</p> + +<p>"No, Madame, Monsieur de Merri can never come to speak for you."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" she cried, all the hope rushing out of her face again.</p> + +<p>"He is dead—slain in a duel." I said in a voice as faint as a whisper.</p> + +<p>Her face seemed to turn to marble.</p> + +<p>"Who killed him?" she presently asked in a horrified tone.</p> + +<p>I knelt at her feet, with averted eyes, as one who is all contrition but +dare not ask a pardon.</p> + +<p>"You!" she whispered.</p> + +<p>"When I found this message upon him afterward," said I, "I saw what +injury was done. I could only come in his place, and offer myself. By +one means and another, I learned who it was had sent for him."</p> + +<p>"That brave young gentleman," said she, following her own thoughts; +"that he should die so soon! And you, with his blood on your +hands."—she drew back from me a step—"come to offer your service to me +who, little as I was to him, must yet be counted among his friends! +Monsieur, what could you think of my loyalty?"</p> + +<p>"I thought only of what might be done to prevent further harm. Though I +fought him, I was not his enemy. I had never seen him before. It was a +sudden quarrel, about nothing. Heaven knows, I did not think it would +end as it did. That end has been lamentable enough, Madame. Punish me if +you will: as his friend, you are entitled to avenge him."</p> + +<p>"I only pity him, Monsieur. God forbid I should think of revenge!"</p> + +<p>"You are a saint, Madame. I was about to say that my having killed him +need not make you reject my service. Your doing so might but add to the +evil consequences of my act. Surely he would prefer your accepting my +aid, now that he is for ever powerless to give his. And we must think +now of something to be done—"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus3" id="illus3"></a> +<img src="images/illus3.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"WE WERE INTERRUPTED BY A LOW CRY."</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>We were interrupted by a low cry, "Madame, Madame!" in a soft voice from +within the arbour that sheltered the walk. The Countess said to me, "It +is Mathilde. She means some one is coming. Hide among these bushes. If +we do not meet again, adieu, Monsieur; I thank you from my heart, and +may God pardon you the death of Monsieur de Merri!"</p> + +<p>She started for the walk: I whispered, "But I must help you! Can we not +meet again presently?"</p> + +<p>"I know not," she replied. "Act as you think best, Monsieur. But do not +endanger yourself. I must be gone now."</p> + +<p>She hastened to join the maid, whose whereabouts were indicated by a low +cough. I heard voices, and instantly crawled under the rose bushes, +heedless of scratches. As the voices came down the walk, one of them +turned out to be that of Captain Ferragant. There was but one other, +which I took, from the talk which I heard later, to belong to a falconer +or some such underling. The Captain addressed a few remarks to the +Countess, as to her state of health and the beauty of the day, which she +answered in low tones. Then he and his companion proceeded to walk +about, talking continually, never getting entirely out of my hearing, +and often coming so near that I could make out their words. It seemed +that an endless length of time passed in this way. I heard no more of +Madame and the maid. Finally the Captain and his man walked back toward +the house. I rose, stretched my legs, and peered up and down the walk. +It was deserted. What was I to do next? I naturally strolled toward the +chateau. As I neared the door leading to Madame's apartments, out came +Mathilde.</p> + +<p>"I have been watching for you, Monsieur. Madame had to come in, to avoid +suspicion. If you can get back to the terrace by the way you came down, +I will go again and distract the attention of the guard."</p> + +<p>"I can do that. But what of Madame? I must see her again. We must find +some way to save her."</p> + +<p>"Do what you can, Monsieur. If you think of anything, you know how to +communicate with us by way of the windows. But lose no time now."</p> + +<p>She hastened away to beguile the man on watch at the steps. When I heard +her laughter, I sped over the grass to the foot of the bank. I clambered +up, crossed the balustrade, went along the house, and entered the hall. +Monsieur de Pepicot was just in the act of saying "Checkmate."</p> + +<p>The Count's face turned a shade more ashen, and he looked unhappy. +Presently he smiled, however, and said peevishly:</p> + +<p>"Well, you must give me an opportunity of revenge. We must play another +game."</p> + +<p>"I shall be much honoured," said Monsieur de Pepicot. "But is there time +to-day?"</p> + +<p>"No; it will soon be supper time. But there will be time to-morrow. You +shall stay here to-night."</p> + +<p>"With great pleasure; but there are some poor things of mine at the +cabaret yonder I should like to have by me."</p> + +<p>"I will send a man for your baggage," said the Count.</p> + +<p>"Then I shall have nothing to mar my happiness," said Monsieur de +Pepicot composedly.</p> + +<p>I was very anxious to remain at the chateau for the present, and feared +rather dismissal than the enforced continuance there which the +long-nosed man had fancied might be our fate. So, to make sure, I said:</p> + +<p>"If Monsieur the Count will do me the honour of a game to-morrow, I will +try to make a better contest than I did against Monsieur de Pepicot."</p> + +<p>The Count looked not displeased at this; it gave him somebody to beat in +the event of his being again defeated by Monsieur de Pepicot.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said he; "I cannot refuse you. You too will remain my +guest; and if I may send for your baggage also—"</p> + +<p>I felt vaguely that it would be better to leave my horse and belongings +at the inn at Montoire, in case I should ever wish to make a stealthy +departure from the chateau; so I replied:</p> + +<p>"I thank you, Monsieur; but there is nothing I have urgent need for, or +of such great value that I would keep it near."</p> + +<p>"As you please," said the Count, observing me keenly with his +half-ambushed eyes.</p> + +<p>The man who had escorted us to the chateau was sent to fetch Monsieur de +Pepicot's baggage; and would have brought his horse also, but that +Monsieur de Pepicot mildly but firmly insisted otherwise and despatched +orders for its care in his absence. The baggage consisted of a somewhat +sorry looking portmanteau, which was taken to our chamber. We then had +supper, during which the Count and my long-nosed friend talked of chess +play, while Captain Ferragant ate in frowning silence, now and then +casting no very tolerant glances at us two visitors. I would have tried +by conversation to gain some closer knowledge of this man, but I saw +there was no getting him to talk while that mood lasted. After supper +the Count and the Captain sat over their wine in a manner which showed a +long drinking bout to be their regular evening custom. Monsieur de +Pepicot and I accompanied them as far as our position as guests +required. We then plead the fatigue of recent travel, and were shown to +our room, in which an additional bed had been placed. The Count was by +this time sufficiently forward in his devotions to Bacchus to dispense +easily with such dull company as ours, and the Captain, by the free +breath he drew as we rose to go, showed his relief at our departure.</p> + +<p>When the servant had placed our candles and left us alone, I expressed a +wonder why so great a house could not afford us a room apiece.</p> + +<p>"It is very simple," said the long-nosed man, opening his portmanteau. +"If they should take a fancy to make caged birds of us, it's easier +tending one cage than two."</p> + +<p>I went to bed wondering what the morrow had in store. I saw now clearly +that I might accomplish something by informing the Count that Monsieur +de Merri was dead and that he was on his way to Lavardin when I met him. +His failure to appear could not then be held as evidence of guilt: his +intention to come might count much in the Countess's favour.</p> + +<p>As my head sank into the pillow, there came suddenly to my mind the +second of the three maxims Blaise Tripault had learned from the monk:</p> + +<p>"<i>Never sleep in a house where the master is old and the wife young.</i>"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<h3>STRANGE DISAPPEARANCES</h3> + + +<p>Monsieur de Pepicot spent so many minutes among the contents of his +travelling bag, that he was not in bed as soon as I. But he was by far +the sooner asleep, as his loud snoring testified. To that music ran my +thoughts of the beautiful young Countess and her unhappy situation, till +at last they passed into dreams. In the midst of the night I woke, and +listened for my neighbour's snoring. But it had ceased. Then I strained +my ears to catch the sound of his breathing, but none came. Wondering at +this, I rose and went over toward his bed. There was just light enough +by the window to see that it was empty.</p> + +<p>I was still in the midst of my surprise, when the door opened with a +very slight creak, and in walked a slim figure so silently that I knew +it was without shoes.</p> + +<p>"Is that you, Monsieur de Pepicot?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"H'sh," he replied in a whisper, closing the door carefully. "Don't +disturb the slumbers of the household. You are very wakeful."</p> + +<p>"No more so than you are, it seems," I said.</p> + +<p>"That is true. I often suffer from sleeplessness, and I find a walk is +the thing to put me right."</p> + +<p>"You were wise to take a light with you on your walk," I observed, for +he now produced a small lantern from under his loose-fitting doublet, +where it had been entirely concealed.</p> + +<p>"Yes; one might hurt one's toes in these dark passages," he answered, +and placidly drew some papers from his breast pocket, folded them +carefully by the lantern's light, and then as carefully replaced them. +"I trust you made some progress in your affair here during the +afternoon."</p> + +<p>"Yes. But you were kept busy with the Count."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't complain. I was about to say that if you preferred to leave +the house to-night, no doubt I could manage it for you."</p> + +<p>"Why should I prefer to leave to-night?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, merely because this Count may be a dangerous man to have much to do +with. I know nothing of your affairs, and of course you have no interest +in mine. The Count will understand that, no doubt, and will not hold you +responsible for anything I may do, if you choose to stay here longer."</p> + +<p>"Well, I must stay here longer, in any case."</p> + +<p>"Then there is no more to be said," answered the long-nosed man, +extinguishing his lantern, which he wrapped up and put into his +portmanteau. He then lay down upon his bed, without undressing.</p> + +<p>I returned to my own couch and was soon asleep.</p> + +<p>When I woke again, it was daylight. Monsieur de Pepicot and his +portmanteau were gone. It occurred to me now, as I washed and dressed, +that when he spoke of my departing by night he intended to make just +such an unceremonious exit himself. In that case, I inferred, he had +thought it only fair, as I had helped him to get into the chateau, that +he should offer to help me to get out, for he had made no secret of his +fears that we might find opposition to our doing so. But, if he had +indeed fled, how had he contrived to get out in the middle of the night? +As for his purpose in getting in, he must have accomplished that while +on his midnight perambulations.</p> + +<p>I went downstairs, but he was not in the hall, nor on the terrace nor in +the court-yard. It was a fine morning, and I was for walking about. At +one side of the court-yard the wall was pierced by a narrow gateway, +which took me into a second court-yard, of which one of the further +angles was filled by a quadrant of the great tower that rose toward +heaven from a corner of the main chateau. There was a small door from +this court-yard to the tower. This tower, for its bigness and height, +took my eyes the first moment, but the next they were attracted by the +living figures in the court-yard. These were Captain Ferragant and a +pack of great hounds which he was marshalling before him, throwing a +piece of meat now to one, now to another, calling out by name which +animal was to catch. He indeed managed to keep them in some sort of +order and from closing around him, and though they all barked and leaped +at each throw, yet only the one whose name was called would dare +actually to close jaws upon the titbit. This went on for some time, +until at last one huge brute, leaping higher, seized the meat intended +for another.</p> + +<p>The red Captain swore a fierce oath, and, grasping a whip, called the +interloping dog to come to him. The animal slunk back. The Captain +advanced among the pack, still calling the hound in the most threatening +voice. But the hound slunk further, growling and showing his teeth. The +Captain sprang forward and brought down his whip. The dog, mutinous, +made a snap at the Captain. The latter, now deeply enraged, threw aside +the whip, caught the animal by the neck, lifted it high, and, with a +swift contraction of his fingers, caused its eyes and tongue to protrude +and its body to writhe and hang powerless. He then flung the dead +creature to a corner of the yard, and looked at me with a smile half +vaunting, half amused, as if to say, "That is how I can treat those who +thwart my will," and to ridicule my wonder at his fury and strength.</p> + +<p>I turned with a look of pity toward the victim of his anger. At that +moment the Count de Lavardin entered the court-yard, and his glance +followed mine. Having seen what I saw, he looked protestingly at the +Captain.</p> + +<p>"The brute was rebellious," said Ferragant.</p> + +<p>"But one doesn't run across such dogs every day," complained the Count.</p> + +<p>"The rarest dog shall not defy me," was the cool answer.</p> + +<p>"That's all very well, if it had been your own dog," said the Count, +still peevish.</p> + +<p>"Oh, as to that, we are quits now. Your dog to-day pays for my man you +killed last week."</p> + +<p>"Pish, it's easy enough to find rascals like that by the score. Not so, +dogs like this. Well, talking won't make him live again—Good morning, +Monsieur. Where is your comrade, Monsieur de Pepicot?"</p> + +<p>I could only answer that on waking I had been disappointed of seeing +either Monsieur de Pepicot or his baggage. "Nor have I beheld him since, +though I have been looking about."</p> + +<p>"That is very strange,—that he should take his baggage from the room," +said the Count, exchanging a look of surprise with the Captain. He then +called two servants and gave them orders quietly, which must have been +to search the house and grounds for Monsieur de Pepicot. As we returned +to the hall, the Count questioned me, watching me sharply the while. I +was perfectly safe in telling the literal truth, though not all of it: +how Monsieur de Pepicot was a stranger to me, how I had never spoken to +him before yesterday, how I knew nothing of his business, and so forth. +Of course I said nothing of his midnight walk or of having conversed +with him at all after going to bed. The Count's mystification and +annoyance were manifest, the more so when, after some time, the servants +returned to say that the missing man could not be found. When he had +heard their report, the Count was very angry.</p> + +<p>"Name of the devil, then, how did he get out? There is treachery +somewhere, and somebody shall pay for it," he screeched, and then +despatched a man to the cabaret to see if Monsieur de Pepicot had taken +his horse away. The man came back saying the horse was gone, but nobody +had seen the owner take it.</p> + +<p>"It is certainly odd that the gentleman should depart secretly like +that, when he might have waited for day and gone civilly," said I, to +evince my simplicity.</p> + +<p>"You are right, very right," said the Count. "Well, at least you remain +to play a game of chess with me. What I am thinking is, the man must +have had some private reason for obtaining entrance to my house."</p> + +<p>"Possibly, Monsieur," I replied, bearing the searching gaze of both the +Count and the Captain well enough.</p> + +<p>"In that case, he made a tool of you," added the Count, still intent on +my expression.</p> + +<p>"That would be the inference," said I.</p> + +<p>"Well, we must satisfy ourselves as to how he took his departure, if we +cannot guess why. Make yourself master of the house, Monsieur. We shall +have our game nevertheless."</p> + +<p>And he went off with the Captain, to examine the places of exit from the +chateau and the men who were responsible for their security. One could +see that Monsieur de Pepicot's disappearance was as disturbing to the +Count as it was puzzling to me.</p> + +<p>I wandered out to the terrace and paced the walk along the house. My +eyes turned toward that window in the west wing which I knew to belong +to the apartments of the Countess. I turned along the wing, and strolled +under that window, thinking Madame or Mathilde might make an appearance +at it. I kept moving to and fro within easy earshot of it, sometimes +glancing up at the half-open casement. This was the clay on which the +poor lady's fate was to be determined by her husband and lord. I +wondered what sort of scene was arranged for the event, whether it would +have the form of trial and judgment, when and where it would occur, and +if I should be admitted to it. Probably I should not, and therefore I +would best speak to the Count regarding Monsieur de Merri before. The +thing was, to find a pretext for broaching the matter without betraying +that I had talked with the Countess. I had thought all this over during +the night, a hundred times, but now I thought it over again; and, in +vague search for some hint or guidance, I looked often up to the window, +as I have said.</p> + +<p>Presently I heard a single sharp, low syllable of laughter, which drew +my glance to the door by which I had come out to the terrace. There +stood the red Captain, his eyes upon me. When he saw that I noticed him, +he came toward me, whereupon I, with pretended carelessness, went to +meet him half way.</p> + +<p>"You seem to find it very interesting, that window," said he, in a low +voice. "To me it looks like any of the others." And he ran his glance +ironically along the whole range.</p> + +<p>"I thought you had gone with the Count to learn how Monsieur de Pepicot +got away," said I, guessing that he had come back to watch me, doubtless +considering that, after the evident duplicity of one guest, the other +might require some looking after.</p> + +<p>"And so you thought yourself free to post yourself over there and make +eyes at that window?" said the Captain with a smile that half jeered at +me, half threatened me with annihilation.</p> + +<p>"I do not quite understand your little jest," said I, boldly enough.</p> + +<p>"You may find it one of those jests in which the laugh is only on one +side, and that side not yours, young gentleman. Your friend with the +long nose, it appears, had his secret motives for paying a visit to this +chateau. We smelt some such thing when the letter came asking for a set +of chessmen, and so the Count admitted you, thinking you just as safe +inside the chateau as outside. It was not the intention to let you out +again in too great haste."</p> + +<p>"In that case," I put in, feigning to treat the matter gaily, "Monsieur +de Pepicot was wise in leaving as he did."</p> + +<p>"I was about to say that if Monsieur de Pepicot had his secret purposes, +it is but fair to suppose you may have yours. If it turns out to be so, +and if your object has anything to do with what you may imagine is +behind that window,—why, then, I warn you in time it would be much +better for you to have been that dog which opposed me a while ago,—very +much better, my pert young gentleman, I assure you."</p> + +<p>He turned and walked into the house, leaving me without any fit answer +on my tongue, or indeed in my mind either.</p> + +<p>It appeared to me that the sooner I had my explanation with the Count, +the better for both the Countess and myself. So I returned into the +hall, which the Captain was leaving by the court-yard door, and waited +for the Count's reappearance. When he did come, it was clear from his +face that the manner of Monsieur de Pepicot's escape—for escape it must +now be called—was still a mystery. It was plain, too, when his eyes +alighted on me, that he had heard from the Captain, who followed him, of +my conduct beneath the window. As he came toward me, he scowled and +looked very wicked and crafty. Before he could speak, I said:</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, there is something I wish to tell you, if you will allow me +to speak to you alone."</p> + +<p>"Regarding Monsieur de Pepicot?"</p> + +<p>"No; regarding myself and the reason of my coming to Lavardin."</p> + +<p>"That is interesting. Let us hear."</p> + +<p>"It is for you alone."</p> + +<p>"Oh, to be sure. Captain Ferragant, if you will excuse me,—"</p> + +<p>The Captain, with a shrug, swaggered off to the furthest corner of the +hall.</p> + +<p>"You have been acquainted," I began, "with a certain Monsieur de Merri."</p> + +<p>The Count's face seemed to jump. I had certainly caught his attention. +But his speech was perfectly controlled as he said:</p> + +<p>"Yes. And what of him?"</p> + +<p>"He had the misfortune to be killed in a sudden duel four days ago at La +Flèche."</p> + +<p>He was plainly startled; but, after a moment's silence, he only said, +"You astonish me," and waited for me to continue.</p> + +<p>"I feared I should," said I, "for it turned out, after the duel, that +Monsieur de Merri was on his way to see you, upon some matter of great +urgency."</p> + +<p>"On his way to see me! How do you know that?"</p> + +<p>I thought it best to tell as much truth as possible.</p> + +<p>"I learned from his servant that he was bound in great haste for +Montoire. Coming to Montoire, I inquired, and was informed that his only +tie in this neighbourhood was his acquaintance with you. Therefore it +must have been you he was coming to see, and his haste implied the +urgency of his reasons, whatever they may have been. Thinking you might +be depending upon his arrival, I resolved to tell you of his death."</p> + +<p>"It is a little odd that you should put yourself out to do that."</p> + +<p>"It might be, if I were not responsible for his failure to come to you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, then it was you who killed him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; and thought it only the proper act of a gentleman to carry the +news to the person who may have expected him."</p> + +<p>"H'm. No doubt. But why did you not come directly and tell me?"</p> + +<p>"I heard you made yourself entirely inaccessible to strangers. So when +Monsieur de Pepicot spoke of asking you to lend us chessmen, I thought +it might lead to some breaking down of your reserve,—as it did."</p> + +<p>"But why did you wait a day before telling me?"</p> + +<p>"I hoped that chance might enable me to see you alone. But you were so +deeply engrossed in your chess. And I hesitated lest you might think +yourself bound, as Monsieur de Merri's friend, to deliver me up for +having violated the edict."</p> + +<p>These were certainly sufficient reasons, though, as you know, I had not +thought of telling him of Monsieur de Merri till after I had heard the +Countess's story, and therefore they were not the true answer to his +question. But I no longer found safe standing on the ground of truth, +and so fell back upon the soil of invention, uncertain as it was. The +Count looked as far into me as he could, and then called the Captain, +who came without haste to the great fireplace where we were. Without any +explanation to me, or other preface, the Count repeated my disclosure to +his friend, all the time in the manner of one submitting a story to the +hearer's judgment as to its truth.</p> + +<p>The Captain shrugged his shoulders, and looked at me scornfully. "It is +a fine, credible tale indeed," said he.</p> + +<p>"If you will take the trouble to send to La Flèche, you will find that +Monsieur de Merri is really slain," said I warmly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no doubt," said the Captain. "But before he was slain, he had time +to take you into his confidence regarding certain things."</p> + +<p>"Not at all. I had never seen him before that evening. It was from his +servant, after he was dead, that I learned he was coming to Montoire. If +you can find that servant, at La Flèche or Sablé, he will tell you so."</p> + +<p>"How could he have known he was wanted here?" asked the Captain of the +Count. "Your offer of a messenger was disdained."</p> + +<p>"I knew she would contrive to send after him on her own account, if I +gave her enough liberty," returned the Count.</p> + +<p>"It argues skill in such contrivances," said the Captain, with a +significant look.</p> + +<p>The Count frowned in a sickly way, but not at the speaker. "Well, in any +case, the liberty will now be cut off," he said harshly. But after a +moment, he added: "And yet, if this gentleman does not lie, Monsieur de +Merri was coming here fast enough."</p> + +<p>"To brazen it out, perhaps. There is no limit to the self-confidence of +youth. As for this gentleman, how does his story account for the +interest he takes in a certain window that looks upon the terrace?"</p> + +<p>The Count's face darkened again, as he turned menacingly toward me. +"Yes, by heaven, I had forgotten that."</p> + +<p>"To be frank," said I awkwardly, after a moment's hesitation, "I had +seen a pretty face there—I mean that of Mathilde." I added the last +words in haste, for the Count's look had shown for an instant that he +took me to mean that of the Countess.</p> + +<p>"Ah! that of Mathilde," he repeated, subsiding.</p> + +<p>"And how did you know her name was Mathilde?" asked the Captain, in a +cold, derisive tone. The Count's eyes waited for my answer.</p> + +<p>"I—exchanged a few words with her yesterday afternoon," I replied.</p> + +<p>"In regard to what subject?" asked the Count quickly, making a veritable +grimace in the acuteness of his suspicion.</p> + +<p>"I paid her a compliment or two, such as one bestows upon a pretty +girl."</p> + +<p>"He is evading," said the Captain. "It is a question whether he did not +presume to offer his compliments higher. One does not say to a pretty +girl, 'What is your name?' nor does the girl reply 'Mathilde,' as if she +were a child. It is more likely he heard the girl's name from other +lips. And was he not found spying about the west gallery by Ambroise? My +dear Count, I fear you kept your nose too close to the chessboard +yesterday afternoon. As for me, if I had known as much as I know now, I +should have been more watchful."</p> + +<p>The Count's face had turned sicklier and uglier as his friend had +continued to speak. He looked now as if he would like to pounce upon me +with his claw-like fingers. He was evidently between the desire to +question me outright as to whether anything had passed between me and +the Countess, and the dislike of showing openly to a stranger any +suspicion of his wife. The latter feeling prevailed, and he regained +control of himself. I breathed a little easier. But just then it +occurred to me that the Count would surely tax the Countess with having +seen me; that she would acknowledge our meeting; and that her own +account of it would be disbelieved, and the worst imaginings added, for +the very reason of my maintaining secrecy about it. I therefore took a +sudden course.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur," I said. "I will be perfectly open with you. From some casual +words of Monsieur de Merri at the inn at La Flèche, before we +quarrelled, I was led to believe that the cause of his journey had +something to do with the welfare of a lady. Afterwards when I heard +whither he was bound so hastily, I remembered that. On learning at +Montoire that this chateau was the only house in which he was known +hereabouts, I assumed that the lady must be in this chateau. It turned +out that the only lady here was the Countess herself. Do you wonder, +then, at my endeavouring to speak to the Countess first upon the matter +of Monsieur de Merri's death?"</p> + +<p>"Pray go on," said the Count, who was taking short and rapid breaths.</p> + +<p>"It is true I saw the maid at that window, but I saw also the +impossibility of communicating properly with Madame by that channel. So, +in spite of your sentinel's vigilance, I crossed the balustrade to the +garden, and there had the honour of presenting myself to the Countess. I +acquainted her with the fate of Monsieur de Merri. Her demeanour causing +me to believe that this put her into peril on her own account, I so +pushed my inquiries and offers of service that she told me what that +peril was. She said she was the victim of a slander which only Monsieur +de Merri's presence here could clear her of. We were soon interrupted +and she left me. I did not see her again, but it appeared to me that, as +Monsieur de Merri's presence here would have stood in her favour, the +news of his intention to be here must also stand that way. And now, +Monsieur, you have the whole story."</p> + +<p>It seemed to have weight with him: but, alas, he looked to the Captain +for an opinion. That gentleman, regarding me with a smile of ironical +admiration, uttered a monosyllabic laugh in his throat, and said:</p> + +<p>"There is one thing we can believe, at least. We know Monsieur de +Merri's habit of disclosing his affairs with ladies to strangers at +inns."</p> + +<p>The Count's face grew dark again.</p> + +<p>"But we can never be sure how much may have passed between Monsieur de +Merri and this gentleman on the subject before they quarrelled, or what +was the real motive that brought him here."</p> + +<p>"My God!" I cried; "what gentleman could require a stronger motive than +I have shown? Having prevented Monsieur de Merri from coming here upon +so urgent a matter, what else could I do in honour but come in his +place?"</p> + +<p>"'In his place'—yes, perhaps, that is well said," retorted the Captain, +with his evil smile.</p> + +<p>The Count, whose judgment seemed entirely under the dominion of his +friend, looked at me again as if he would destroy me. After a moment, he +took a turn across the hall and back, and then said to me:</p> + +<p>"Well, in the midst of all this deceit and uncertainty one thing is +clear. You know too much of our private affairs here to be permitted to +go where you will, for the present. I must ask you, therefore, to keep +to your chamber awhile. Your wants will be provided for there. I will +show you the way myself, on this occasion." He motioned toward the +stairway, and the Captain stood ready to accompany him.</p> + +<p>"That amounts to making me a prisoner, Monsieur," said I.</p> + +<p>"We shall not dispute over words," replied the Count. "By your own +confession, you are liable to the law for killing Monsieur de Merri."</p> + +<p>"I have reason to expect the King's pardon for that. Measures have +already been taken."</p> + +<p>"Pray don't keep me waiting, Monsieur. I should not like to be compelled +to have my men lay hands on you." At the same time his smile looked as +if he would like that very much.</p> + +<p>There was nothing to do, for the moment, but yield. The Captain was +watching to see where my hand moved, and I know not how many armed men +were in the court-yard, besides the servants waiting at the other end of +the hall. So I obeyed the Count's gesture, merely saying:</p> + +<p>"You will find I am not a person who will go unavenged in case of +indignity."</p> + +<p>The Count laughed, in his dry, sharp manner, and walked by my side. The +Captain followed. As soon as I was in my room, the Count called a +servant, who went away and presently returned with a key. The Count and +his friend then left me, and locked the door on the outside. As I sat +down on my bed, I was glad I had offered no useless resistance, for, as +it was, I had not been deprived of my weapons.</p> + +<p>To make a short matter here of what seemed a very long one at the time, +I was kept locked in my room all that day, with two armed men outside my +door, as I guessed first from hearing them, and certified afterwards by +seeing them when a servant brought my food. What made the confinement +and inaction the more trying was my knowledge that this was the day on +which the Countess was to plead her innocence. I kept wondering through +the tedious hours how matters were going with her, and I often strained +my ears in the poor hope of discovering by them what might be going on +in the chateau. But I never heard anything but the rough speech and +movements of the men outside my door, and now and then the voice of some +attendant on the terrace below my window. I could look diagonally across +the terrace to the window where I had seen Mathilde, but not once during +all that day did I behold a sign of life there. The night came without +bringing me any hint as to how the Countess had fared. I could not sleep +till late.</p> + +<p>When I woke, early in the morning, I noticed that my door was slightly +ajar. Looking out, I found the corridor empty. I took this to mean that +I was not to remain a prisoner, and so it proved. Hastily dressing and +going downstairs, though many servants were about, I encountered no +hindrance. I passed out to the terrace. To my surprise, nobody was on +guard at the steps; so I went boldly down to the garden. My heart beat +with a vague hope of meeting the Countess, though it was scarce late +enough in the day to expect her to be out. I must confess it was not +alone her being an oppressed lady whom I had engaged myself to aid, that +made me look so eagerly down all the walks and peer so keenly into all +the arbours; I must confess it was largely the impression her beauty and +tenderness had left upon me. But I was disappointed: I explored the +whole garden in vain.</p> + +<p>Anything to be near her, I thought. So I went and hung about the door +between the garden and her apartments. But it remained closed and +enigmatic. I had another idea, and, returning into the house, took my +way unchecked to the gallery of pictures, wondering at the freedom of +passage now allowed me, and at the same time resolved to make the most +of it. I could scarce believe my eyes when I saw the door ajar which led +to Madame's suite. I went and tapped lightly on it, but got no answer. +It opened to a large drawing-room, well furnished but without any +inhabitant. I crossed this room to the other side, which had two doors, +both open. One gave entrance to a sleeping-chamber, in a corner of which +was a prie-dieu, and which showed in a hundred details to be the bedroom +of a lady. But the bed was made up, and a smaller bed, in a recess, +which might be that of the maid, also had the appearance of not having +been used the previous night. I looked through the other doorway from +the drawing-room, and saw a stairway leading down to the garden door. +Had the Countess and Mathilde, then, gone into the garden at the time I +was in the act of coming to the gallery? No; for the garden door was +bolted on the inside. I went to one of the drawing-room windows looking +on the terrace, and made sure it was the window from which Mathilde had +first answered my call. And then it dawned upon me what the desertion of +these rooms meant, and why I was allowed to go where I would in the +house and garden. The Countess and her maid were no longer there. What +had become of them?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<h3>MATHILDE</h3> + + +<p>Well, there was no indication to be found in the Countess's apartments +as to where she had removed to, and I thought it best not to risk being +seen there. So I went down to the hall again. As I glanced through the +court-yard to the outer gates, I thought of trying to leave the chateau, +to see if my new liberty went so far as to permit that. But I reflected +that if I were once let out I might not be let in again, and my chance +of learning what had become of the Countess lay, I supposed, inside the +chateau. So I resolved to stay there and await the turn that matters +might take. And certainly never was any man a guest in stranger +circumstances of guestship. I hated and feared my host, and was loth to +accept his hospitality, yet stayed of my own will, though I knew not +certainly whether I was free to go. My host hated me, yet tolerated my +presence—if indeed he would not have enforced it—for the sake of +having me at hand if he thought fit to crush me. When he appeared that +morning, I thanked him ironically for restoring me to liberty. He only +uttered his harsh crackling laugh in reply, and regarded me with a +pretended disdain which failed to conceal his hatred and his longing to +penetrate my mind and learn what indeed was between me and his Countess. +In such men, especially when they have an evil suggester like the +Captain at their ear, jealousy is a madness, and no assurances—nay, not +even oaths—of innocence will be taken by them as truth. But his pride +made him feign contempt for me, and he had nothing to say to me that +day. Neither had the Captain, whose manner toward me merely reverted to +what it had been at first. I saw my former place made ready at the +table, and took it. The Count and his friend talked of their sports and +the affairs of the estate, and not one word of the Countess was spoken. +Having eaten, they went off to ride, leaving me to amuse myself as I +might. The air of the chateau seemed the freer for their absence, but +still it was to me a sinister place, and an irreligious place too, for, +though the Count and his friend were Catholics, I had not seen the sign +of a chaplain or of any religious observance since I had crossed the +drawbridge. So I prepared myself for a dull yet anxious day, and lounged +about the hall and court-yard as the places where I might best hope to +find out something from the domestics of the house.</p> + +<p>As I paced the stones of the court-yard, I became aware that a certain +maidservant had been obtruding upon my view with a persistency that +might be intentional. I now regarded her, as she stood in a small +doorway leading to the kitchen. She was a plump, well-made thing, with a +wholesome, honest face, but the sluttishness of her loose frock, and of +a great cap that hung over her eyes, were too suggestive of the +scullery. As soon as she saw I noticed her, she put one finger on her +lip, and swiftly beckoned me with another.</p> + +<p>I strolled carelessly over, and stopped within a foot of her, pretending +to readjust my sword-belt.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur," she said in an undertone, "you are desired to be in your +chamber this afternoon at four o'clock."</p> + +<p>I glanced at the girl in wonder.</p> + +<p>"That is all at present," she whispered. I had the discretion to move +on. There were, as usual, several armed fellows idling about the +court-yard, but none seemed to have observed that any word had passed +between the kitchen-maid and me.</p> + +<p>Here was matter for astonishment and conjecture for the next few hours. +In some manner or other, those hours passed, and at four I was seated in +my chamber, having left the door open an inch or so. The turret clock +had scarce done striking when the door was pushed wide; somebody entered +and instantly closed it. I had a brief feeling of disappointment as I +saw the slovenly frock and overhanging cap of the kitchen-maid. Was it +she, then, who paid me the compliment of this clandestine visit?</p> + +<p>No; for the cap was swiftly flung back from the brow, and there was the +bright and comely face of Mathilde. I uttered her name in pleased +surprise.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said quickly, "Mathilde in the guise of Brigitte. I have come +from Madame the Countess."</p> + +<p>"And where is she?" I asked eagerly.</p> + +<p>"In the great tower."</p> + +<p>"A prisoner?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I with her. Fortunately there was nothing else to do with me, +unless they killed me. So I am able to attend her."</p> + +<p>"Faithful Mathilde! But why is this?"</p> + +<p>"It is the fulfilment of the Count's threat in case Madame could not +clear herself of that false charge."</p> + +<p>"But the Count knew that Monsieur de Merri was coming here. I told him."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Monsieur, but the Count would believe as much of your story as +Captain Ferragant would choose to let him. Your very interest in +Madame's fate has been new food for his jealousy."</p> + +<p>"God forbid!"</p> + +<p>"It is not your fault, Monsieur; it is the Count's madness. He locks his +wife up, as much that she may be inaccessible to you and all other men, +as because of anything concerning Monsieur de Merri."</p> + +<p>"You may well call it his madness."</p> + +<p>"Yes; for, whatever other ladies may have deserved who have been treated +thus, the Countess is the most virtuous of wives. Her regard for her +marriage vows—in spite of the husband she has—is a part of her +religion. But his mind is poisoned. He naturally believes that a young +and beautiful woman would not be faithful to an old wolf like him. And +he is almost right, for there is only one young and beautiful woman in +France who would be, and that is the Countess."</p> + +<p>"Surely not because she loves him?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no. It is because of her religion. She was brought up at a convent +school, and when the Count offered to marry her, the Mother Superior +made her think it her duty and heaven's will that she should accept the +high position, where her piety would shine so much further: and having +become his wife, she would die rather than violate a wife's duties by a +hair's breadth. But what is her reward? Not because he loves +her—there's more love in a stone!—but because he can't endure the +thought of any trespass on what is his—because he dreads being made a +jeer of—he goes mad with jealousy and suspicion. He imitates the Prince +of Condé by locking his wife up in a tower."</p> + +<p>"But this cannot last forever."</p> + +<p>"No, Monsieur, and for a very good reason—the Countess's life cannot +last forever under this treatment—even if the Count, in some wild +imagining of her guilt, conjured up by Captain Ferragant, does not +murder her. It's that thought which makes me shudder. It could be done +so quietly in that lonely cell, and any account of her death could be +given out to avoid scandal."</p> + +<p>"Horrible, Mathilde! He would not go to that length."</p> + +<p>"Men have done so. You are a stranger, and have not seen the frenzies +into which the Count sometimes works himself, torturing his mind by +imagining actions of infidelity on her part."</p> + +<p>"But that disease of his mind will wear itself out; then he will see +matters more sanely."</p> + +<p>"Will he grow better, do you think, as he grows older, and drinks more +wine, and falls more under the influence of the red Captain?"</p> + +<p>To say truth, I thought as Mathilde did, though I had spoken otherwise +for mere form of reassurance.</p> + +<p>"What is her prison like?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"A gloomy room no larger that this, with a single small window. There is +no panelling nor tapestry nor plaster—nothing but the bare stones. +There are a bed for Madame, a cot for me, a table, and two chairs: +nothing else to make it look like a human habitation, save our +crucifixes, an image of the Virgin, a trunk, and Madame's book of +Hours."</p> + +<p>"A small window, you say. Is it barred?"</p> + +<p>"No; but our room is very high up in the tower."</p> + +<p>"Still, if one got through the window—is it large enough for that?"</p> + +<p>"One might get through; but the moat is beneath—far beneath."</p> + +<p>"The window looks toward Montoire, then, if the moat is beneath."</p> + +<p>"Yes; we can see the sunset."</p> + +<p>"At all events, a person dropping from the window would alight outside +the walls of the chateau?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Monsieur,—in the moat, as I said. It would be a long drop, too. I +don't know how high up the room is. It seems a great many steps up the +winding stairs before one comes to the landing before the door."</p> + +<p>"Is it at the top of the tower, then?"</p> + +<p>"No; for beyond our door the stairs begin again, and they seem to wind +more steeply."</p> + +<p>"You noticed the sunset. Then you must have been there yesterday +evening."</p> + +<p>"Yes; we were taken there shortly after noon yesterday. That was the +limit to the time given the Countess in which to prove her innocence. +She was summoned to the picture gallery by the Count himself, and nobody +else was there but Captain Ferragant. The door was closed against me, +and what passed between that saint and those two devils I know not; but +after a little the door was opened, and there she was, very pale and +with her eyes raised in prayer. The Count, who was blue with +vindictiveness, told me to get together what things Madame should order; +and when that was done, he bade us follow, and led the way down to the +court-yard and to the tower, the Captain walking behind. As we climbed +those narrow winding steps, I wished the Count might trip in the +half-darkness and break his neck, but alas, it was only poor Madame who +stumbled now and then. The Count showed us into the room, already +furnished for us, and waited till a man had brought the trunk in which I +had put some of Madame's clothes. The Count left without a word, and we +heard the door locked outside. At first I thought we were to be left to +starve, but after some hours the door was unlocked by a man on guard +outside, and Brigitte appeared with our supper. She told us she was to +come twice a day with our food, and for other necessary services. And +when she came again this morning, I had planned how I should manage to +see you."</p> + +<p>"You are as clever as you are true, Mathilde."</p> + +<p>"Fortunately Brigitte looks such a simple, witless creature that the man +on guard on the landing has not thought to pry while she has been with +us, and has allowed the door to be shut. He cannot then see in, as the +grated opening has been closed, out of regard to Madame's sex. So this +morning I got Brigitte's consent to my plan, for the poor girl is the +softest-hearted creature in the world. And to make sure of finding you +immediately when I got out, I charged her to tell you to be in your room +at four o'clock."</p> + +<p>"Which she did very adroitly."</p> + +<p>"She is not such a fool as some take her for. Well, when she came to us +awhile ago, I transferred this frock and cap from her to me, and had her +call out to the guard that she had forgotten something and must return +to the kitchen for it. 'Very well, beauty,' said the guard ironically, +and I came out in a great hurry, and was on my way downstairs before he +could take a second look at me. The landing is a dark place, and my +figure so much like Brigitte's that her clothes make it look quite the +same. There is another man on guard, at the bottom of the stairs, but he +was as easily deceived as the one above. I ran across the two +court-yards, and through the kitchen passage to the servants' stairs, +and nobody glanced twice at me. Brigitte, of course, must stay with +Madame till I return,—and now, Monsieur, it is time I was back, and I +have said nothing of what I came to say."</p> + +<p>"You have said much that is important. But 'tis true, you'd best say the +rest quickly,—your return may be dangerous enough."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I shall go so fast that nobody will have time to suspect me. As for +the guards, it is their duty to keep me in. Should they see it is I who +was out, they will be very glad to have me in again, and to hold their +tongues, for the Count's punishments are not light. But as to Madame's +message—she would have tried to convey it by Brigitte, had I not +declared I would come at all hazards,—for the truth is, I have +something to say on my own responsibility, also."</p> + +<p>"But Madame's message?" I demanded eagerly.</p> + +<p>"She begs that you will go away while you can. So brave a young +gentleman should not stay here to risk the Count's vengeance."</p> + +<p>I felt joy at this concern for my safety.</p> + +<p>"If I am a brave man," I answered, "I can only stay and help her."</p> + +<p>"I am glad you are of that mind, Monsieur, for it is what I think. That +is what <i>I</i> had to say to you."</p> + +<p>"Then the only question is, how can I be of use to the Countess? She +must be released from this imprisonment."</p> + +<p>"There I agree with you again. She ought to be taken away—far out of +reach of the Count's vengeance—before he has time to make her plight +worse than it is, or carry out any design against her life. But even if +she remained as she is, her health would not long endure it."</p> + +<p>"Now that matters have come to this pass, no doubt she is willing to run +away."</p> + +<p>"Not yet, Monsieur. That is for me to persuade her. But if we form some +plan of escape now, I hope I can win her consent before the time comes +to carry it out."</p> + +<p>"I trust so. When she repelled the idea of escape, the day I saw her in +the garden, things had not gone so far. And then she thought there was +no safe place of refuge for her. But I can find a place. And she thought +an attempt must be hopeless because the Count would be swift to pursue. +But if we got some hours' start, going at night—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, certainly it will have to be at night, Monsieur. The Count has the +roads watched from the tower, for some purpose of his own—I think he +expects some enemy."</p> + +<p>"You still have the key to the postern?"</p> + +<p>"It must be where I left it—buried under the rose-bush nearest the +postern itself. But the first thing is, to get out of the room in the +tower."</p> + +<p>"Certainly. It would not be possible for Madame to get out as you have +done—by a disguise, I mean?"</p> + +<p>"No, Monsieur. Brigitte is the only one who comes to us, with whom she +might change clothes. And Madame is not at all of Brigitte's figure—nor +could she mimic Brigitte's walk as I can. She could not act a part in +the slightest degree. And I know that Madame would never consent to go +and leave me behind to bear the Count's wrath. We must all three go +together. Besides Brigitte comes and goes in the daytime, and Madame +must escape at night."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is certain. It is hard to devise a plan in a moment. If I +could think of it over night, and you come to me again to-morrow—but +no, you may not be able to play this same trick again—the guards may +detect you going back."</p> + +<p>"That is true, and I have thought of one plan, though it may be +difficult."</p> + +<p>"Let me hear it, nevertheless."</p> + +<p>"Then listen, Monsieur. First, as to the door of our cell. It is locked +with a key, which the Count himself retains, except when he goes out, as +this afternoon,—it is then entrusted to the seneschal. I know this from +Brigitte, for the key is given to her when she comes to us. She hands it +to the guard on the landing, who opens the door and keeps the key while +she is within. When she leaves us, he locks the door, and she takes the +key back to the Count or seneschal. But in order to release Madame, you +must have that key."</p> + +<p>"And how am I to get it?"</p> + +<p>"After Brigitte's last visit to us before the night we select, she will +give the Count or seneschal, not the real key to our cell, but another +of the same size and general shape—she has access to unimportant keys +about the house. Then she will bring the real key to you."</p> + +<p>"But poor Brigitte!—when the Count investigates in the morning, he will +find she has given him the wrong key."</p> + +<p>Mathilde thought a moment. "No; he will rather suppose you robbed him of +the right key during the night and substituted the other to delay +discovery. He will suspect anything rather than Brigitte, whom he thinks +too great a fool for the least craft; and even if she is accused, she +can play the innocent. I assure you."</p> + +<p>"So much for that, then. There is yet the door of entrance to the +tower."</p> + +<p>"At present it has an old broken key in the lock, which is therefore +useless. But no doubt that will be remedied—so we must act soon. +Meanwhile, that door is guarded by the man at the foot of the stairs."</p> + +<p>"But are the two guards on duty at night also? There is no Brigitte to +be let in and out then. And surely the Count doesn't think you can break +your lock."</p> + +<p>"There are guards on duty, nevertheless. Last night I heard one call +down the stairs to another, asking the time. They are there, no doubt, +not for fear of our breaking out, but for fear of somebody breaking in +to help Madame. I don't suppose there are ever more than two. If the +rule has not been changed, the rest of the household sleeps, except a +porter in the gate-house and a man on top of the tower. But this man +watches the roads, as well as he can in the darkness, and the porter too +is more concerned about people who might want to enter the chateau than +about what goes on inside. So in the dead of night you can go silently +downstairs and let yourself out of the hall—"</p> + +<p>"But is not the hall door locked with a key?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but the key is left always in the lock. You have then only to +cross the two court-yards to the lower, without making any noise to +alarm the porter at the gate-house or to warn the guard at the tower +entrance."</p> + +<p>"Will he be inside or outside the tower door, I wonder?"</p> + +<p>"Probably inside, where there is a bench just at the foot of the stairs. +He and his comrade above will be your only real difficulty, Monsieur. If +you can take them by surprise, one at a time—"</p> + +<p>"One at a time, or two at a time," said I, beginning to walk up and down +the chamber, and grasping my sword and dagger. "But the trouble will be, +the noise that may be made when I encounter them,—it may arouse the +chateau and spoil all."</p> + +<p>"But heaven may grant that you will surprise the men inside the tower, +one at the foot of the stairs, the other on our landing, as they must +have been last night. In that case, if you can keep the fighting inside +the tower, till—"</p> + +<p>"Till they are dead. Yes, in that case, if I am expeditious, no noise +may be heard outside. That is a thing to aim for. If they, or one, +should be outside, I can rush in and so draw them after me. Well, and +when I have done for them—?"</p> + +<p>"Then you have but to unlock our door, and Madame and I will join +you.—You will know our door by there being a stool in the landing +before it—the guard sits there.—Well, then we must fly silently +through the court-yards and the hall, let ourselves out to the +terrace—there are two or three ways I know,—and run through the garden +to the postern. Once out of these walls, we must hurry across the fields +to the house of a certain miller—"</p> + +<p>"Hugues? Yes."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Monsieur. The watchman on the tower will not see us in the fields, +for we shall keep close to the woods till we are at a distance. Hugues +can supply two horses, at least, and you and Madame must be as far away +as possible by daylight."</p> + +<p>"And you, Mathilde?"</p> + +<p>"Unless we can get three horses, I will lie hid at Hugues's mill till +Madame finds time to send for me. It will be suitable enough—Hugues and +I are to be married some day."</p> + +<p>"But I have a horse at the inn at Montoire. If I can get it out at that +hour, you can come with us—to whatever place we may decide upon."</p> + +<p>"As to that place, you may consider in the meanwhile. There will be time +to discuss the matter with Madame when she is escaping with you. The +first thing is, to get as far from Lavardin as possible. And now when is +all this to be done?"</p> + +<p>"The sooner the better, for who knows when the Count may take into his +head some new idea?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, of harm to Madame or to yourself."</p> + +<p>"Why should we not choose this very night?"</p> + +<p>"I see no reason against it—except that I may not be able to persuade +Madame. But yet there will be several hours—and surely heaven will help +me!—Yes, to-night! There is nothing for me to do but persuade Madame, +and see that we are dressed as suitably for travel as the clothes at +hand will permit. But first, before Brigitte comes away, I must instruct +her about the key. At what hour will you come, Monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"As soon as the house is asleep."</p> + +<p>"Fortunately, early hours are kept here, as there is never any company. +But the Count and the Captain stay at their cups till ten or eleven +o'clock."</p> + +<p>"Then by that time they must have drunk enough to make them fall asleep +as soon as they are in bed."</p> + +<p>"And sometimes before they are in bed, I have heard the servants say."</p> + +<p>"Then I will leave my room at half-past eleven, but will make sure that +the hall is dark and empty before I proceed."</p> + +<p>"And may the saints aid you, Monsieur, when you have to do with the men +at the tower!"</p> + +<p>"The men will not be expecting me, that is one advantage," said I, +trying to seem calm, but trembling with excitement. "If all goes well, +we should be out of the chateau soon after midnight."</p> + +<p>"And at Hugues's house before one o'clock. You should be on +horseback—the Countess and you—by half-past one. Have you money, +Monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"Yes,—this purse is nearly as full as when I left home."</p> + +<p>"That is well, for Madame has none, and I don't know how much Hugues +could get together in ten minutes. I have ten crowns in his strong-box, +which Madame shall have."</p> + +<p>"They shall stay in Hugues's strong-box, and his own money too. I have +enough."</p> + +<p>"Then I believe that is all, Monsieur, and I'd better be going back. Be +on the watch for Brigitte with the key. Do you think of anything else?"</p> + +<p>We went hurriedly over the various details of the plan, and then she +took her leave, darting along the passage as swiftly as a greyhound and +as silently as a ghost. I sat down to think upon what I had undertaken, +but my mind was in a whirl. Strangely enough, I, the victor of a single +duel, did not shrink from the idea of killing the two guards—or as many +as there might be. Perhaps this was because they were sure to be rascals +whose lives one could not value very highly, especially as against that +of the Countess. Nor did I feel greatly the odds against me, in regard +both to their number and to my inexperience in such business. Perhaps +the apparent confidence of Mathilde in my ability to dispose of them—a +confidence based on my being a gentleman and they underlings—infected +me. And yet I chose not to go too deeply into the probabilities. My +safest course, for my courage, was not to think too much, but to wait +for the moment and then do my best.</p> + +<p>It seemed but a short time till there was a tap at my door, and in came +the real Brigitte.</p> + +<p>"Mathilde got back safe, Monsieur; she was not detected," she said, and +handed me a large key.</p> + +<p>Ere more could pass, she was gone. I put the key in my breast pocket. It +was now time I should show myself to the Count and his friend at table; +which I proceeded to do, as boldly as if I had entertained no design +against them. They were just back from their ride. It was strange with +what outward coolness I was able to carry myself, by dint of not +thinking too closely on what I had undertaken. For observe that, besides +the immediate task of the night, there was Madame's whole future +involved. And how precipitately Mathilde and I had settled upon our +course, without pausing to consider if some more prudent measures might +not be taken to the same end! But I was hurried by my feeling that I +ought to save Madame, the more because no one could say how far the +present situation was due to my having killed De Merri, and to my advent +at the chateau. Even though she might choose not to escape, it was for +me to give her the opportunity, at least. And to tell the truth, I +longed to see her again, at any cost. As for Mathilde, there were her +pressing fears of a worse fate for her mistress, to excuse her haste. +And we were both young, and thought that any project which goes straight +and smoothly in the telling must go straight and smoothly in the doing; +and we looked not far ahead.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<h3>THE WINDING STAIRS</h3> + + +<p>I left the table early, and went to my room. I tore two strips from the +sheet of my bed, and wrapped them around my boots so as to cover the +soles and deaden my footsteps. Slowly the night came, with stars and a +moon well toward the full. But we could keep in shadow while about the +chateau, and the light would aid our travelling later. At half-past ten +o'clock, the house seemed so still I thought the Count must have gone to +bed before his usual time. I stole noiselessly from my room, feeling my +way; and partly down the stairs. But when I got to the head of the lower +flight, I saw that the hall was still lighted. I peered over the +railing. The Count and the Captain were alone, except for two knaves who +sat asleep on their bench at the lower end of the hall. The Count +lounged limply back in his great chair at the head of the table, +unsteadily holding a glass of wine; and the Captain leaned forward on +the board, narrowly regarding the Count. Both were well gone in wine, +the Count apparently the more so. There was a look of mental torment on +the Count's face.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know, I know," he said, wincing at his own words as if they +pierced him. "There was opportunity enough with that De Merri. I was +blind then. And with this new puppy! Women and lovers have the ingenuity +of devils in devising opportunities. And they both admit their interview +in the garden. But that he could have his way so soon—is that entirely +probable?"</p> + +<p>He looked at the Captain almost beseechingly, as if for a spark of hope.</p> + +<p>The Captain spoke with the calm certainty of wisdom gained through a +world of experience:</p> + +<p>"Young blood is quickly stirred. Young lips are quickly drawn to one +another. Young arms are quick to reach out, and young bodies quick to +yield to them."</p> + +<p>The Count uttered a cry of pain and wrath, his eyes fixed as though upon +the very scene the Captain imagined.</p> + +<p>"The wretches!" said the tortured Count, staggering to his feet. "And I +am the Count de Lavardin!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus4" id="illus4"></a> +<img src="images/illus4.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"'THE WRETCHES!' SAID THE TORTURED COUNT, STAGGERING TO HIS FEET."</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>"The greater nobleman you, the greater conquest for a young nobody to +boast of. It is a fine thought for adventurous youth.—'A great lord, +and a rich, but it is I, an unknown stripling, who really have possessed +what he thinks his dearest treasure.'"</p> + +<p>The Count gave a kind of agonized moan, and went lurching across the +hall, spilling some wine from his glass. "And a man of my years, too!" +he said, with an accent of self-pity.</p> + +<p>"The older the husband, the merrier the laugh at his expense," said the +Captain.</p> + +<p>The Count ground his teeth, and muttered to himself.</p> + +<p>"It is always their boasting that betrays them," went on the Count. +"When I was young, they used to tell of a famous love affair between the +Bussy d'Amboise of that day and the Countess de Montsoreau, wife of the +Grand-huntsman. It came out through Bussy's writing to the King's +brother that he had stolen the hind of the Grand-huntsman. That is how +these young cocks always speak of their conquests.</p> + +<p>"Ah, I remember that. He did the right thing, that Montsoreau! He forced +his false wife to make an appointment with Bussy, and when Bussy came, +it was a dozen armed men who kept the appointment, and the gay lover +died hanging from a window. Yes, that Montsoreau!—but he should have +killed the woman too! The perfidious creatures! Mon dieu!—when I +married her—when she took the vows—she was the picture of fidelity—I +could have staked my soul that she was true; that from duty alone she +was mine always, only mine!"</p> + +<p>He lamented not as one hurt in his love, but as one outraged in his +right of possession and in his dignity and pride. And curiously enough, +his last words caused a look of jealousy to pass across the face of the +Captain. This look, unnoticed by the Count, and speedily repressed, came +to me as a revelation. It seemed to betray a bitter envy of the Count's +mere loveless and unloved right of possession; and it bespoke the +resolve that, if the Captain might not have her smiles, not even her +husband might be content in his rights. Such men will give a woman to +death rather than to any other man. As in a flash, then, I saw his +motive in working upon the Count's insane jealousy. Better the Count +should kill her than that even the Count should possess her. I shuddered +to think how near to murder the Count had been wrought up but a moment +since. At any time his impulse might pass the bounds. I now understood +Mathilde's apprehensions, and saw the need for haste in removing the +Countess far from the power of this madman and his malign instigator.</p> + +<p>The Count, exhausted by his rush of feelings, drained his glass, and +almost immediately gave way to the sudden drowsiness which befalls +drinkers at a certain stage. He staggered to his seat, and fell back in +a kind of daze, the Captain watching him with cold patience. Thinking +they would soon be going to bed, I slipped back to my room.</p> + +<p>A little after eleven, I went forth again. The hall was now dark, and +its silence betokened desertion. I groped my way to the door. The key +turned more noisily than I should have wished, and there was a bolt to +undo, which grated; but I heard no sound of alarm in the house. I +stepped out to the court-yard, closing the door after me. The court-yard +was bathed in moonlight. Keeping close to the house, so as not to be +visible from any upper window, I gained the shadow of the wall +separating the two court-yards. As noiselessly as a cat, I followed that +wall to its gateway; entered the second court-yard, and saw that the +door to the tower was open, a faint light coming from it. The tower +itself, obstructing the moon's rays, threw its shadow across the +paving-stones. I stepped into that shadow, which was only partial; drew +my sword and dagger, and darted straight for the tower entrance, +stopping just inside the doorway. By the light of a lantern hanging +against the wall, I saw a kind of small vestibule, beyond which was an +inner wall, and at one side of which was the beginning of a narrow +spiral staircase, that ran up between walls until it wound out of sight. +On a bench against the inner wall I have mentioned, sat a man, who rose +at sight of me, with one hand grasping a sword, and with the other a +pike that was leaning against the bench.</p> + +<p>He was a heavy, squat fellow, with short, thick legs and short, thick +arms.</p> + +<p>"I give you one chance for your life," said I quickly. "Help me to +escape with your prisoner, and leave the Count's service for mine."</p> + +<p>After a moment's astonishment, the man grunted derisively, and made a +lunge at my breast with his pike. I caught the pike with my left hand, +still holding my dagger therein, and forced it downward. At the same +time I thrust with my rapier, but he parried with his own sword. I +thrust instantly again, and would have pinned him to the wall if he had +not sprung aside. He was now with his back to the stairs, and neither of +us had let go the pike. His sword-point darted at me a second time, but +I avoided, and thrust in return. Not quite ready to parry, he escaped by +falling back upon the narrow stone steps. Before I could attack, he was +on his feet again, and on the second step. We still held to the pike, +which troubled me much, both as an impediment to free sword-play and as +depriving me of the use of my dagger. I suddenly fell back, trying to +jerk it from his grasp; but his grip was too firm. He jerked the pike in +turn, and I let go, thinking the unexpected release might cause him a +fall.</p> + +<p>He did not fall; but I pressed close with sword and dagger before he +could bring the pike to use, and he backed further up the stairs. He +caught the pike nearer the point, that he might wield it better at close +quarters; but the long handle made it an awkward weapon, by striking +against the wall, which continually curved behind him. We were sword to +sword, and against my dagger he had his pike, but the dagger was the +freer weapon for defence though not so far-reaching for attack.</p> + +<p>The man was very strong, but he had the shorter thrust and offered the +broader target. We continued at it, thrust and parry, give and take. All +the time he retreated up the winding staircase, which was so narrow that +we had little elbow room, and this was to his advantage as he needed +less than I. Another thing soon came to his advantage: the stairs curved +out of the light cast by the lantern below, so that he backed into +darkness, yet I was still visible to him. I cannot tell by what sense I +knew where to meet his sword-point, yet certainly my dagger rang against +it each time it would have stung me out of the dark. As for his pike, I +now kept it busy enough in meeting my own thrusts. Whether or not I was +drawn by the knowledge that the Countess was above, I continued to +attack so incessantly, and with such good reach, that my antagonist +still retreated upward. I followed him into the darkness; and then the +advantage was with me, as being slender.</p> + +<p>Hitherto I had offered him my full front, but now I half turned my back +to the wall, so that his blade might scarce find me at all, and that I +might stand less danger of being forced backward off my feet. Well, so +we prodded the darkness with our steel feelers in search of each other's +bodies on those narrow stairs, striking sparks from the stone walls +which our weapons were bound to meet by reason of the continual +curvature.</p> + +<p>At last the broad form of my adversary was suddenly thrown into faint +light by a narrow window in the wall. I staked all upon one swift +thrust. It caught him full in the belly, and ran how far up his body I +know not. With a cry he fell forward, and I was hard put to it to save +my sword and avoid going down with him. But I got myself and my sword +free, and went on up the stairs as fast as I could feel my way.</p> + +<p>In a few moments I heard steps coming from above, and a rough voice +shouting down, "Ho, Gaspard, did you call? What the devil's up?" It was +the other guard, who must have been asleep to have been deaf to the +clash of our weapons, but whom his comrade's death-cry had roused. I +trusted that the walls of the tower had confined that death-cry from the +chateau; fortunately, the narrow window was toward the open fields.</p> + +<p>I stopped where I was. When the man's steps sounded a few feet from me, +I said "Halt!" and, telling him his comrade was dead, proposed the terms +I had offered the latter. There was a moment's silence: then a clicking +sound, and finally a great flash of fiery light with a loud report, and +the smell of smoke. By good luck I had flattened myself against the wall +before speaking, and the charge whizzed past me. Thinking the man might +have another pistol in readiness, I stood still. But he turned and ran +up the stairs. I stumbled after him.</p> + +<p>Presently the stairway curved into light such as we had left at the +bottom. The guard ran on in the light, and finally stepped forth to a +landing no wider than the stairs; where there hung a lantern over a +three-legged stool, beyond which was a door. At sight of this my heart +bounded.</p> + +<p>At the very edge of the landing the man turned and faced me, pointing a +second pistol. As the wheel moved, I dropped forward. The thing missed +fire entirely, and, flinging it down with a curse, the man drew his +sword and seized a pike that stood against the wall. I charged +recklessly up the steps, bending my body to avoid the pike. It went +through my doublet, just under the left armpit. Ere he could disencumber +it I pressed forward upon the landing. I turned his sword with my +dagger, and thrust with my own sword under the pike, piercing his side. +Only wounded, he leaped back, drawing the pike from my clothes. He aimed +at me again with that weapon. In bending away from it, I fell on my +side, but instantly turned upon my back.</p> + +<p>The man moved to stand over me. I let go my sword, and caught the pike +in my hand as it descended. He then tried to spit me with his sword, but +I checked its point with the guard of my dagger. I thought I was near my +end. He had only to draw up his sword for another downward thrust; but +there was a sudden faltering, or hesitation, in his movements, probably +a blindness of his eyes, the effect of his wound. In that instant of his +uncertainty, I swung my dagger around and ran it through his leg. He +fell forward upon me, nearly driving the breath out of my body. My +dagger arm, extended as it had been, was fortunately free. I crooked my +elbow, embraced my adversary, and sank the dagger deep into his back. I +felt his quiver of death.</p> + +<p>After I had rolled his body off me, and sheathed my sword and dagger, I +took out the key and unlocked the door. Inside the vaulted room of +stone, which was lighted by a candle, stood the Countess and Mathilde.</p> + +<p>The Countess, beautiful in her pallor, and looking more angel than woman +in the plain robe of blue that clothed her slight figure, met me with a +face of mingled reproach, pity, and horror. Mathilde was in tears and +utterly downcast. I could see at a glance how matters stood, and ere I +had made two steps beyond the threshold, I stopped, abashed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Monsieur, the blood!" cried the Countess sadly, pointing to my +doublet.</p> + +<p>"It is that of your two guards," I said. "I am not hurt."</p> + +<p>"I am glad you are not hurt. But oh, why did you put this bloodshed upon +your soul?"</p> + +<p>"To save you, Madame."</p> + +<p>"Alas, I know. It is not for me to blame you—but could you think I +would escape—leave the house of my husband—become a fugitive wife?"</p> + +<p>I saw how firm she was in her resolution for all her fragility of body, +and I scarce knew what to say.</p> + +<p>"Madame, think! He is your husband, yes,—but your persecutor. Where you +should have protection, you receive—this." I waved my hand about her +prison. "Where you should find safety, you are in mortal danger."</p> + +<p>"I know all that, Monsieur,—have known it from the first. But shall I +play the runaway on that account? Think what you propose—that I, a +wedded wife, shall fly from my husband's roof with a gentleman who is +not even of kin to me! Then indeed would my good name deserve to +suffer."</p> + +<p>"But Madame, heaven knows, as I do, that you are the truest of wives."</p> + +<p>"Then let me still deserve that title as my consolation, whatever I may +have to endure."</p> + +<p>"But to flee from such indignity as this—such slander—such peril of +death—"</p> + +<p>"It is for me to bear these things," she interrupted, "if he to whom I +vowed myself in marriage inflicts them upon me. If they be wrongs, it is +I who must suffer but not I who must answer to heaven for them! I may be +sinned against, but I will not sin. Though he fail in a husband's duty, +I will not fail in a wife's. Do you not understand, Monsieur, it is not +the things done to us, but the things we do, that we are accountable +for?"</p> + +<p>"But I can see no sin in your fleeing from the evils that beset you +here, Madame."</p> + +<p>"Nay, even if it were not a violation of my marriage vow, it would have +the appearance of sin, and that we are to avoid. And it would be to +throw away my one hope, that my husband's heart may yet be softened, and +his eyes opened to my innocence."</p> + +<p>"Alas! I trust it may turn out a true hope, Madame," said I sadly.</p> + +<p>"Heaven has caused such things to occur before now," she replied. "As +for you, Monsieur, I must never cease to thank you for your chivalrous +intent, as I shall thank my good Mathilde for her devotion. And I will +ever pray for you. And now, if you would make my lot easier—if you +would remove one anxiety from my heart, and give me one solace—you will +leave this chateau immediately. Save yourself, I beg. Monsieur: let +there be no more blood shed on my account, and that blood yours! +Mathilde can let you out at the postern—she knows where the key is +hidden. She tells me you have a horse at Montoire. Go, Monsieur—lose +not another moment—I implore—nay, if you will recognize me as mistress +of this house, I command."</p> + +<p>I bowed low. She offered me her hand: I kissed it.</p> + +<p>"It will not be necessary for Mathilde to come to the postern," said I. +"I know another way out of the chateau. Adieu, Madame!" It was all I +could manage to say without the breaking of my voice. I turned and left +the room, closing the door that the Countess and Mathilde might be +spared the sight of the body on the landing. I then, for a reason, took +the key, leaving the door unlocked. I groped my way down the stairs, +taking care not to trip over the body below. I crossed the court-yards +without any care for secrecy, entered the hall, and sat down upon a +bench near the door.</p> + +<p>When I had told the Countess I knew another way out of the chateau, I +meant only the front gateway. But I did not intend immediately to try +that way. I intended, for a purpose which had suddenly come into my +head, to wait in the hall till morning and be the first to greet the +Count when he appeared.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<h3>MORE THAN MERE PITY</h3> + + +<p>What I stayed to do was something the Countess herself could do, and +probably would do one way or another, if indeed mere circumstances would +not do it of themselves: though I felt that none could as I could. But +to tell the truth, even if I could not have brought myself to turn my +back on that place while she was in such unhappy plight there.</p> + +<p>After I had sat awhile in the hall, I went to my room, lighted a candle, +and cleansed myself and my weapons, and my clothes as well as I could, +of blood. Having put myself to rights, though the rents in my doublet +were still gaping, I went back to the bench in the hall, and passed the +rest of the night there, sleeping and awake by turns.</p> + +<p>At dawn I heard steps and voices in the court-yard as of early risen +dependents starting the day. Silence returned for a few minutes, and +then came the noise of hurrying feet, and of shouts. There was rapid +talk between somebody in the court-yard and somebody at an upper window. +I knew it meant that the bodies of the two guards had been discovered, +doubtless by the men who had gone to relieve them. In a short time, down +the stairs came the Count de Lavardin, his doublet still unfastened, +followed by two body-servants. He came in haste toward the front door, +but I rose and stood in his path.</p> + +<p>"A moment, Monsieur Count. There's no need of haste. You'll find your +prisoner safe enough."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" he asked, having stopped in sheer wonder at my +audacity.</p> + +<p>"Madame the Countess has not flown, though it is true her guards are +slain—I slew them. And Madame the Countess will not fly, though it is +true her prison door is unlocked—I unlocked it—with this key, which I +borrowed from you last night."</p> + +<p>He took the key I handed him, and stared at it in amazement. He then +thrust his hand into his doublet pocket and drew out another key, which +he held up beside the first, looking from one to the other.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said I, "that is a different key, which I left in place of the +right one so that you might not discover the loan too soon."</p> + +<p>He gazed at me with a mixture of fury and surprise, as at an antagonist +whose capacity he must have previously underrated.</p> + +<p>"By the horns of Satan," he exclaimed, "you are the boldest of meddling +imps."</p> + +<p>"I have meddled to good purpose," said I, "though my meddling has not +turned out as I planned. But it has turned out so as to bring you peace +of mind, at least in one respect."</p> + +<p>"What are you talking of?"</p> + +<p>"You see that I possessed myself of that key; that I fought my way to +the prison of the Countess; that I threw open her prison door."</p> + +<p>"And believe me, you shall pay for your ingenuity and daring, my brave +youth."</p> + +<p>"All that was but the beginning of what I was resolved and able to do. I +had prepared our way of escape from the chateau."</p> + +<p>"I am not sure of that."</p> + +<p>"You may laugh with your lips, Count, but I laugh at you in my heart. +Don't think Monsieur de Pepicot is the only man who can get out of the +Chateau de Lavardin."</p> + +<p>The reminder somewhat sobered the Count.</p> + +<p>"I had the means, too," I went on, "to fly with Madame far from this +place. We might indeed have been a half-day's ride away by this time. I +assure you it is true. Let what I have done convince you of what more I +could have done. You don't think I should have gone so far as I have, +unless I was sure of going further, do you?"</p> + +<p>The Count shrugged his shoulders, pretending derision, but he waited for +me.</p> + +<p>"And why did I not go further?" I continued. "Because the Countess would +not. Because she is the truest of wives. Because, when I opened her +door, she met me with a stern rebuke for supposing her capable of flying +from your roof. Ah, Monsieur, it would have set your mind at rest, if +you had heard her. She bows to your will, though it may crush her, +because you are her husband. Never was such pious fidelity to marriage +vows. Her only hope is that your mind may be cleared of its false doubts +of her."</p> + +<p>The Count looked impressed. He had become thoughtful, and a kind of +grateful ease seemed to show itself upon his brow. I was pleasing myself +with the belief that I had thus, in an unexpected way, convinced him of +the Countess's virtue, when a voice at my side broke in upon my +satisfaction. I had so closely kept my attention upon the Count that I +had not observed Captain Ferragant come down the stairs. It was he that +now spoke, in his cool, quiet, scoffing tone:</p> + +<p>"Perhaps the Countess had less faith in this gentleman's power to convey +her safely away than he seems to have had himself. Perhaps she saw a +less promising future for a renegade wife than he could picture to her. +Perhaps she, too, perceived the value of her refusal to run away, as +evidence of virtue in the eyes of a credulous husband."</p> + +<p>The Count's forehead clouded again. I turned indignantly upon the +Captain, but addressed my words to the Count, saying:</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, you will pardon me, but it seems to a stranger that you allow +this gentleman great liberties of speech. Men of honour do not, as a +rule, even permit their friends to defame their wives."</p> + +<p>"This gentleman is in my confidence," said the Count, his grey face +reddening for a moment. "It is you, a stranger as you say, who have +taken great liberties in speaking of my domestic affairs. But you shall +pay for them, young gentleman. Your youth makes your presumption all the +greater, and shall not make your punishment the less. I will trouble +you, Captain, to see that he stays here till I return."</p> + +<p>At this the Count, motioning his attendants to follow, who had stood out +of earshot of our lowered voices, passed on to the court-yard, and +thence, of course, to the prison of the Countess.</p> + +<p>The Captain stood looking at me with that expression of antipathy and +ridicule which I always found it so hard to brook. I had some thought of +defying the Count's last words and walking away to see what the Captain +would do. But I reflected that this course must end in my taking down, +unless I made good a sudden flight from the chateau by the gate; and if +I made that I should be fleeing from the Countess. So the best thing was +to be submissive, and not bring matters, as between the Count and me, to +a crisis. Perhaps a way to help the Countess might yet occur, if I +stayed upon the scene to avail myself of it. And in any case by +continuing there in as much freedom as the Count might choose to allow +me, I might have at least the chance of another sight of her.</p> + +<p>So, while we waited half an hour or so in the hall, I gave the Captain +no trouble, not even that of speech, which he disdained to take on his +own initiative.</p> + +<p>The Count returned, looking agitated, as if he had been in a storm of +anger which had scarce had time to subside. His glance at me was more +charged with hate and menace than ever before. He beckoned the Captain +to the other end of the hall, and there they talked for awhile in +undertones, the Count often shaking his head quickly, and taking short +walks to and fro; sometimes he clenched his fists, or breathed heavy +sighs of irritation, or darted at me a swift look of malevolence and +threat. I could only assume that something had passed between the +Countess and him during his visit to her prison—perhaps she had shown +anxiety as to whether I had fled—which had suddenly quickened and +increased his jealousy of me.</p> + +<p>At last the Count seemed to accept some course advised by his friend. He +came towards me, the Captain following with slower steps. In a dry +voice, well under control, the Count said to me:</p> + +<p>"Permit me to relieve you, Monsieur, of the burden of those weapons you +carry. I am annoyed that you should think it desirable to wear them in +my house, as if it were the road."</p> + +<p>Startled, I put my hands on the hilts of my sword and dagger, and took a +step backward.</p> + +<p>"Your annoyance is somewhat strange, Monsieur," said I, "considering +that you and the Captain wear your swords indoors as well as out. I +thought it was the custom of this house."</p> + +<p>"If so," replied the Count, with his ghastly smile, "it is a custom that +a guest forfeits the benefit of by killing two of my dependents. Come, +young gentleman. Don't be so rude as to make me ask twice."</p> + +<p>The Captain now stepped forward more briskly, his hand on his own sword. +Taking his motion as a threatening one, and scarce knowing what to do, I +drew my weapons upon impulse and presented, not the handles, but the +points. But ere I could think, the Captain's long rapier flashed out, it +moved so swiftly I could not see it, and my own sword was torn from my +grip and sent whirring across the hall. In the next instant, the guard +of the Captain's sword was locked against the guard of my dagger, and +his left hand gripped my wrist. It was such a trick as a fencing master +might have played on a new pupil, or as I had heard attributed to my +father but had never seen him perform. It showed me what a swordsman +that red Captain was, and how much I had yet to learn ere I dared +venture against such an adversary. And there was his bold red-splashed +face close to mine, smiling in derision of my surprise and discomfiture. +He was beginning to exert his strength upon my wrist—that strength +which had choked and flung away the great hound. To save my arm, I let +go my dagger. The Captain put his foot on it till an attendant, whom the +Count had summoned, stooped for it. My sword was picked up by another +man, whereupon, at the Count's command, it was hung upon a peg in the +wall, and the dagger attached to the handle of the sword. The two men +were then ordered to guard me, one at each side. They were burly +fellows, armed with daggers.</p> + +<p>"Well, Monsieur, what next?" said I in as scornful a tone as I could +command.</p> + +<p>"Patience, Monsieur; you will see."</p> + +<p>There was a low, narrow door in the side of the hall, near the front. At +the Count's bidding, an attendant opened this, and I was marched into a +very small, bare room, the ceiling of which was scarce higher than my +head. This apartment had evidently been designed as a doorkeeper's box. +It's only furniture was a bench. A mere eyehole of a window in the +corner looked upon the court-yard.</p> + +<p>"Remember," I called back to the Count, "you cannot put injuries upon me +with impunity. An account will be exacted in due time."</p> + +<p>"Remember, you," he replied with a laugh, "that you have murdered two +men here, and are subject to my sentence."</p> + +<p>My guards left me in the room, and stationed themselves outside the +door, which was then closed upon me. There was no lock to the door, but +it was possible to fasten the latch on the outside, and this was done, +as I presently discovered by trial.</p> + +<p>I sat on the bench, and gazed out upon as much of the court-yard as the +window showed. Suddenly the window was darkened by something placed +against it outside,—a man's doublet propped up by a pike, or some such +device. I could not guess why they should cut off my light, unless as a +mere addition to the tediousness of my restraint. I disdained to show +annoyance, though I might have thrust my arm through the window and +displaced the obstruction. Later I saw the reason: it was to prevent my +seeing who passed through the court-yard.</p> + +<p>It seemed an hour until suddenly my door was flung open. In the doorway +appeared the Captain, beckoning me to come forth. I did so.</p> + +<p>Half-way up the hall, a little at one side, stood the Count. Near him, +and looking straight toward me, sat the Countess in a great arm-chair. +Besides the Captain and myself, those two were the only persons in the +hall. Even my guards had disappeared, and all doors leading from the +hall were shut.</p> + +<p>The Countess, as I have said, was looking straight toward me. Her eyes +had followed the Captain to my door, she wondering what was to come out +of it. For assuredly she had not expected me to come out of it. She had +still trusted that I had gone away in the night—the Count had not told +her otherwise. Her surprise at seeing me was manifest in her startled +look, which was followed by a low cry of compassionate regret.</p> + +<p>The Count had been watching her with a painful intentness. He had not +even turned his eyes to see me enter, having trusted to his ears to +apprise him. At her display of concern, the skin of his face tightened; +though that display was no more than any compassionate lady might have +given in a similar case. Even the Count, after a moment, appeared to +think more reasonably of her demeanour.</p> + +<p>I bowed to her, and stood waiting for what might follow, the Captain +near me.</p> + +<p>The Count, turning toward me for an instant to show it was I he +addressed, but fixing his gaze again upon his wife and keeping it there +while he continued speaking to me, delivered himself thus, with mocking +irony:</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, I will not be so trifling or so churlish as to keep you in +doubt regarding your fate. In this chateau, where the right of doom lies +in me, you have been, by plain evidence and your own confession, guilty +of the murder of two men. As to what other and worse crimes you have +intended, I say nothing. What you have done is already too much. There +is only one sufficient punishment. You may thank me for granting you +time of preparation. I will give you two days—a liberal allowance, you +will admit—during which you shall be lodged in a secure place, where in +solitude and quiet you may put yourself in readiness for death."</p> + +<p>The Countess rose with a cry, "No, no!" Her face and voice were charged +with something so much more than mere compassion, that I forgot my doom +in a wild sweet exultation. At what he perceived, the Count uttered a +fierce, dismayed ejaculation. The Captain looked at once triumphant and +resentful.</p> + +<p>"It is enough!" cried the Count hoarsely. "The truth is clear!"</p> + +<p>He motioned me away, and the Captain pushed me back into the little +room, quickly fastening the door. But my feeling was still one of +ecstasy rather than horror, for still I saw the Countess's tender eyes +in grief for me, still saw her arms reaching out toward me, still heard +her voice full of wild protest at my sentence. It was to surprise her +real feelings that she had been brought to hear, in my presence, my doom +pronounced; and my window had been obstructed that our confrontation +might be as sudden to me as to her, lest by a prepared look I might put +her on her guard. This it was that the Captain had suggested, and +excellently it had served. That moment's revelation of her heart, though +it brought such sweetness into my soul, could only make her fate worse +and my sentence irrevocable.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<h3>THE RAT-HOLE AND THE WATER-JUG</h3> + + +<p>I had not been back in the little room a minute, when it occurred to me +to reach through the window and displace the obstruction. I was in time +to see the Countess escorted back across the court-yard by her husband. +This could mean only that she was again to occupy her prison in the +tower. I was glad at least to know where she was, that I might imagine +her in her surroundings, of which I had obtained so brief a glimpse.</p> + +<p>Presently my door opened slightly, that my breakfast might be passed in +on a trencher; and again an hour later, that the trencher might be taken +out. Soon after that, the door was thrown wide, and a man of some +authority, whom I had already taken to be the seneschal of the chateau, +courteously requested me to step forth. When I did so, he told me my +lodging was ready and bade me follow. At my elbows were two powerful +armed servitors of this strange half-military household, to escort me.</p> + +<p>I had a moment's hope that I might be taken to some chamber in the great +tower; I should thus be nearer the Countess. But such was not the +Count's will. I was conducted to the hall staircase, and up two flights, +thence along the corridor past my former sleeping chamber, and finally +by a small stairway to a sort of loft at that very corner of the chateau +against which the great tower was built.</p> + +<p>It was a small chamber with one window and an unceiled roof that sloped +very low at the sides. I suppose it had been used as a store-room for +rubbish. Two worm-eaten chests were its only furniture. On one of these +were a basin, a jug of water, and a towel. On the other were a blanket, +a sheet, and a pillow. Here then were my bed and wash-stand. There was +still space left on the first chest to serve me as dining-table.</p> + +<p>Before I could find anything to say upon these meagre accommodations for +a gentleman's last lodging in this world, the seneschal bade me +good-day, the door was closed and locked, and I was left to my +reflections. The room not having been designed as a prison, there was no +grilled opening in the door, and I was not exposed to the guard's view.</p> + +<p>The Count might have kept me in my former chamber, thought I, the time +being so short. Perhaps he feared my making a rope of bed clothes and +dropping to the terrace. As for the little room off the hall, it had no +real lock, and the guards might become sleepy at night. But why did he +make this respite of two days? Was it to give himself time for devising +some peculiarly humiliating and atrocious form of death? Or was it mere +ironical pretence of mercy in his justice, and might I be surprised with +the fatal summons as soon as he was in the humour for it? To this day, I +do not clearly know,—or whether he had other matters for his immediate +care; or indeed whether, at the instant of pronouncing my sentence in +order to discover the Countess's feelings, he actually intended carrying +it out.</p> + +<p>In any case, now that her heart had betrayed itself, I had little hope +of mercy. What came nearest to daunting me was the thought that, if I +died, my people might never know for certain what had been my fate, for +the Count would probably keep my death a secret, his own dependents +being silenced by interest and fear. Yet I felt I had no right to +complain of Fate. I had come from home to see danger, and here it was, +though my present adventure was something different from cutting off the +moustaches of Brignan de Brignan. And still my emotions were sweetened +by the sense of what the Countess had disclosed, fatal though that +disclosure might be to her also.</p> + +<p>Such were the materials of my thoughts for the first hour or so, while I +sat on the chest that was to be my bed. But suddenly there came a +sharper consciousness of what death meant, and how closely it threatened +me. I sprang up, to bestir myself in seeking if there might be some +means of escape. The situation had changed since I had willingly +lingered at the chateau in order to be near the Countess. The reluctance +to betake myself from the place where she was, had not diminished; but I +had awakened to the knowledge that my only hope of ever seeing her again +lay in present flight, if that were possible. I could serve her better +living than dead, better free than a prisoner.</p> + +<p>I went to the window, which was wide enough for me to put my head out. +My room was at the top of the building, and only the great tower, partly +visible at my right, rose higher toward the sky. Below me was a narrow +paved space between the house and the outer wall: it ran from the base +of the tower at my right, to the garden, far at the left. Beyond the +wall was the moat: beyond that, the country toward Montoire. If I could +let myself down to the earth by any means, I should still be on the +wrong side of the wall. But I might find the postern key, buried under +the rose bush near the postern itself.</p> + +<p>I looked around the room, but there was nothing that would serve as a +means of descent, except the bedding on the larger chest. This I +examined: it was the scantiest, being merely a strip of blanket and a +strip of sheet, together just sufficient to cover the top of the chest. +With the pillow cover and towel, they would not reach half-way to the +ground.</p> + +<p>Perhaps the chests might contain old clothes, or other materials that +would serve to eke out. I tried the lids, but both were strongly locked. +The larger chest looked very ancient and rotten: its hinges might be +loose. I pulled one end of it out from against the wall, to examine the +back. The hinges were immovable. Despondent, I ran my hand further down +the back at random, and, to my surprise, felt a small irregular hole, +through which I could thrust two fingers. It was evidently a rat hole, +for I saw now that when close to the wall, it must have corresponded to +a chink between the stones thereof.</p> + +<p>My fingers inside the chest came in contact with nothing but rat-bitten +papers, to my sad disappointment. But, having gone so far, I was moved +to continue until I had patiently twisted a few documents out through +the hole. I straightened and glanced at them. The edges were fretted by +the rats. One writing was an account of moneys expended for various +wines; another was a list of remedies for the diseases of horses; but +the third, when I caught its meaning and saw the name signed at the end, +made my heart jump. It was the last page of a letter, and ran thus:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"One thing is certain, by our careful exclusion of fools and +weaklings, our plot is less liable to premature discovery than any +of those which have hitherto been attempted, and, as you say, if we +fail we have but to lock ourselves up in our chateaux till all +blows over, the K. being so busy at present with the Dutch. In that +event, my dear Count, the Chateau de Lavardin is a residence that +some of the rest of us will envy you. Your servant ever,</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Collot d'Arniol</span>."</p></div> + +<p>The name was that of the chief mover of the late conspiracy, who had +paid the penalty of his treason without betraying his accomplices. If +this was indeed his signature, with which the authorities were certainly +acquainted, the scrap of paper, were I free to carry it to Paris, would +put the life of the Count de Lavardin in my hands.</p> + +<p>To be possessed of such a weapon—such a means of rescuing the Countess +from her fearful situation—and yet lack freedom wherein to use it, was +too vexing for endurance. I resolved, rather than wait inactively for +death with that weapon useless, to employ the most reckless means of +escape. Meanwhile I pocketed the fragment of letter, and thrust the +other papers back into the chest, which I then pushed to its former +place.</p> + +<p>After thinking awhile, I poured the water from the heavy earthen jug +into the basin. I then sat down on the large chest, leaning forward, +elbows upon knees, my head upon my hands, the empty jug beside me as if +I had lazily left it there after drinking from it. In this attitude I +waited through a great part of the afternoon, until I began to wonder if +the Count was not going to send me any more food that day.</p> + +<p>At last, when the sun was low, I heard my lock turned, the door opened +into the room, and one of my new guards entered with a trencher of bread +and cold meat. With the corner of my eye, I saw that nobody was +immediately outside my door; so I assumed that my other guard, if there +were still two, was stationed at the foot of the short flight of stairs +leading to my room. The man with the food, having cast a look at me as I +sat in my listless attitude, passed me in order to put the trencher on +the other chest, which was further from the door.</p> + +<p>The instant his back was toward me, I silently grasped the earthen jug, +sprang after him, and brought the jug down upon the back of his head +with all my strength while he was leaning forward to place the trencher. +He staggered forward. I gave him a second blow, and he sprawled upon the +chest, which stopped his fall.</p> + +<p>I ran to the open door, pushed it almost shut, and waited behind it, the +jug raised in both hands. My blows and the guard's fall had not been +without noise.</p> + +<p>"Hola! what's that?" cried somebody outside and a little below. I gave +no answer, and presently I heard steps rapidly mounting to my door. Then +the door was lightly pushed, but I stopped it; whereupon the head of my +other guard was thrust in through the narrow opening. Down came my jug, +and the man dropped to his hands and knees, in the very act of drawing +his weapons. I struck him again, laying him prostrate. Then I dragged +him into the room, and tried to wrest his dagger from his grasp. Finding +this difficult, I ran back to the first guard, took his dagger from its +sheath as he was beginning to come to, wielded my jug once more to delay +his awakening, and, stepping over the second man's body, passed out of +the room. The man with the trencher had left the key in the lock. I +closed the door and turned the key, which I put in my pocket. I then +hastened down the stairs, fled along the deserted passage, descended the +main stairway to the story below, traversed without a moment's pause the +rooms leading to the picture gallery, crossed that and found the door at +the end unlocked, ran down the stairs of the Countess's former +apartments, unlocked the door to the garden, and sped along the walk +toward the postern. In all this, I had not seen a soul: I was carried +forward by a bracing resolve to accomplish my escape or die in +attempting it, as well as by an inspiriting faith in the saying of the +Latin poet that fortune favours the bold, and by a feeling that for me +everything depended on one swift, uninterrupted flight.</p> + +<p>I gained the postern; fell on my knees by the nearest rose bush, and, +choosing a spot where the soil swelled a little, dug rapidly with the +dagger, throwing the earth aside with my hand. In my impatience, much +time seemed to go: I feared that here at last I was stayed: great drops +fell from my brow upon my busy hands: I trembled and could have wept for +vexation. But suddenly my dagger struck something hard, and in a moment +I grasped the key. It opened the lock. I stood upon the ledge outside, +and re-locked the door; then dashed across the plank over the moat, and +made for the forest.</p> + +<p>I had no time to spare. My guards might be already returned to +consciousness and doing their best to alarm the house from within their +prison. Bloodhounds might soon be on my track. I ran along the edge of +the forest, therefore, which covered my movements till I was past the +village of St. Outrille, close to Montoire. I then altered my pace to a +walk, lest a running figure in the fields might attract the notice of +the Count's watchman on the tower; and, going in the lurching manner of +a rustic, came to a road by which I crossed the river and gained the +town. I entered the inn, sought the host, and called for my bill, +baggage, and horse.</p> + +<p>The innkeeper did not recognize me at first, and, when he did, showed +great wonder and curiosity at my absence. He was inclined to be +friendly, though, and, when he perceived I was in haste, did not delay +my departure with inquisitive talk. I saw that my horse had been +properly cared for in my absence, and was glad to be on its back again, +the more because I should thus leave no further scent for bloodhounds to +follow.</p> + +<p>I rode out of the archway and turned my horse toward the road for Les +Roches and Paris. As I crossed the square, I could not help glancing +over my right shoulder toward the Lavardin road. In doing so, I happened +to see a young man coming out of the church, whose face I knew. I +thought a moment, then reined my horse around to intercept him, and, as +he was about to pass, said in a low voice:</p> + +<p>"Good evening, Hugues."</p> + +<p>He stopped in surprise, recalling my features but not my identity. I +leaned over my horse's neck, and spoke in an undertone:</p> + +<p>"You will remember I met you on your way back from Sablé, whither you +had carried a certain lady's message. I have since heard of you from +that lady. She is in a most unhappy plight, and so is her maid +Mathilde."</p> + +<p>The young miller turned pale at this.</p> + +<p>"I have just escaped from the chateau," I continued, "where the Count +meant to kill me. I am going as fast as possible to Paris, where I can +use means to render him powerless. But that will take time, and +meanwhile the worst may befall the Countess—and no doubt her faithful +Mathilde also. They are imprisoned in the tower. I thank God I have met +you, for now there is one friend here to whose solicitude I may leave +that unfortunate lady and her devoted maid while I am away."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur," said he, with deep feeling, "I know no reason why you should +play a trick on me, and you don't look as if you were doing so. I will +trust you, therefore. But can you not come to my house, where we can +talk fully?"</p> + +<p>"Where is your house?"</p> + +<p>"About a quarter of a league down that road." He pointed toward the road +that ran northward from the square, as my road ran northeastward. "When +you are ready to go on, you can get the Paris road by a lane, without +coming back to the town."</p> + +<p>There were good reasons against my losing any time before starting for +Paris. But it was well, on the other hand, for Hugues to know exactly +how matters stood at the chateau. I put my reasons hastily to him, and +he said he could promise me a safe hiding-place at his mill. And I could +travel the faster in the end for a rest now, which I looked as if I +needed,—in truth, I had slept little and badly in the hall the previous +night, and the day's business had told upon me. So, perhaps most because +it was pleasant to be with a trusty companion who shared my cause of +anxiety, I agreed to go to his house for supper, and to set out after +night-fall.</p> + +<p>"Good!" said Hugues. "Then you had best ride ahead, Monsieur, so we are +not seen together. You can leave me now as if you had been merely asking +your way. If you ride slowly when you are out of the town, I shall catch +up."</p> + +<p>I did as he suggested, and he soon overtook me on the road. His house +proved to be a cottage of good size built against a mill, with a small +barn at one side of the yard and a stable at the other. When I had +dismounted at his door, we unsaddled and unbridled my horse, so that it +might pass for a new horse of his own if pursuers looked into his +stable. He then called his boy and his woman-servant, and told them what +to say if anybody came inquiring. We carried my saddle, bridle, and +portmanteau through the cottage to the mill, and thence to a small +cellar which was reached by means of a well-concealed trap-door in the +mill-floor. This cellar should be my refuge in case the Count's men came +there seeking me.</p> + +<p>"I made this hiding-place," said Hugues, moving his candle about to show +how well floored and walled it was, "because one could never say when +Mathilde, living in that fearful chateau, might want a place to fly to. +She would not leave her mistress, you know, though the Countess's other +women went gladly enough when the Count sent them off. Nobody knows +there is anything between Mathilde and me, Monsieur,—except the +Countess. It is safer so. We have been waiting for the Count to die, so +that all might be well with the Countess, for Mathilde could marry me +then with easy mind."</p> + +<p>"I hope that God will send that time soon," said I.</p> + +<p>"But meanwhile, this present danger?" said Hugues.</p> + +<p>We returned to the living-room of the cottage, and talked of the matter +while we had supper. I told Hugues everything, misrepresenting only so +far as to make it appear that the Count's jealousy was still entirely +unfounded, and that he had mistaken the Countess's feelings at our +confrontation. Whatever Hugues may have thought upon this last point, he +made no comment thereon; but he showed the liveliest sense of the +increased danger in which the Countess stood. He feared that my escape +would make her position still worse, and that her hours might be already +numbered. He considered there was not time for me to go to Paris and +return: the Countess's rescue ought to be attempted promptly, or the +attempt would be too late.</p> + +<p>In all this, he but echoed the feeling that had come back to me with +double force while I told him the situation. But there was the +Countess's determination not to flee. Hugues said that as this +determination must be overcome for the Countess's own sake, any pressure +that could be brought to bear upon her feelings would be justifiable. +Let it be urged upon her that if she persisted in waiting for death, +Mathilde's life also would doubtless be sacrificed; let every argument, +every persuasion be employed; let me beseech, let me reproach, let me +even use imperative means if need be. Suddenly, as he talked, I saw a +way by which I thought she might be moved. It was one chance, but enough +to commit me to the effort.</p> + +<p>The question now was, how to communicate with the Countess, and to +accomplish the rescue. This Hugues and I settled ere we went to bed. I +slept that night in the mill, by the trap-door. Hugues lay awake, +listening for any alarm. None came, and in the morning we agreed that +either the Count had elected not to seek me at all, or had traced me to +the inn, and, learning I had taken horse, supposed I was far out of the +neighbourhood. I stayed indoors all that day, while Hugues was absent in +furtherance of our project, the woman and boy being under strict orders +as to their conduct in the event of inquiries. In the evening Hugues +returned with various acquisitions, among them being a sword for me, and +a long rope ladder, both obtained at Troo.</p> + +<p>We awaited the fall of night, then set out. I upon my horse, Hugues +riding one of his and leading the other. We went by obscure lanes, +crossed the river, gained the forest, and lingered in its shades till +the church clock of Montoire struck eleven. We then proceeded through +the forest, near the edge, till we were behind the Chateau de Lavardin.</p> + +<p>Besides the rope-ladder, we had with us a cross-bow that Hugues owned, a +long slender cord, and a paper on which I had written some brief +instructions during the afternoon.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<h3>THE ROPE LADDER</h3> + + +<p>The night was starlit, though the moon would come later. We hoped to be +away from the chateau before it rose. There was a gentle breeze, which +we rather welcomed as likely to cover what little noise we might make.</p> + +<p>Leaving our horses tied in the forest, and taking the cross-bow and +other things, we stole along the moat skirting the Western wall, till we +were opposite the great tower. It rose toward the sky, sheer from the +black water that separated us from it by so few yards. We gazed upward, +and I pointed out the window which I thought, from its situation, must +be that of the Countess, if she still occupied her former prison.</p> + +<p>Our first plan depended upon her still occupying that prison, or some +other with an unbarred window in that side of the tower; and upon her +being still accompanied by Mathilde.</p> + +<p>If the man on top of the tower were to look down now, thought I! We had +considered that chance. It was not likely he would come to the edge of +the tower and look straight down. His business apparently was to watch +the road at a distance and in both directions. He could do this best +from the Northeastern part of the tower. From what I knew now, I could +guess why the Count had stationed him there: a conspirator never knows +when he is safe from belated detection and a visit of royal guards. This +accounted also, perhaps as much as the Count's jealousy, for his +inhospitality to strangers, and for the half-military character of his +household.</p> + +<p>Hugues uttered a bird-call, which had been one of his signals to +Mathilde in their meetings. We waited, looking up and wishing the night +were blacker. He repeated the cry.</p> + +<p>Something faintly whitish appeared in the dark slit which I had taken to +be the Countess's window. It was a face.</p> + +<p>"Mathilde," whispered Hugues to me.</p> + +<p>Keeping his gaze upon her, he held up the cross-bow for her notice; then +the bolt, to which we had attached the slender cord. Next, before +adjusting the bolt, he aimed the unbent bow at her window: this was to +indicate what he was about to do. Then he lowered the bow, and looked at +her without further motion, awaiting some sign of understanding from +her. She nodded her head emphatically, and drew it in.</p> + +<p>Hugues fitted the string and the bolt, raised the bow, and stood +motionless for I know not how many seconds; at last the string twanged; +the bolt sang through the air. It did not fall, nor strike stone, and +the cord remained suspended from above: the bolt had gone through the +window.</p> + +<p>"Good!" I whispered in elation; and truly Hugues deserved praise, for he +had had to allow both for the wind and for the cord fastened to the +bolt.</p> + +<p>The cord was soon pulled upward. Our end of it was tied to the rope +ladder, which Hugues unfolded as it continued to be drawn up by +Mathilde. At the junction of cord and ladder was fixed the paper with +instructions. Mathilde could not overlook this nor mistake its purpose. +When the ladder was nearly all in the air, its movement ceased. We knew +then that Mathilde had the other end of it. Presently the window became +faintly alight.</p> + +<p>"They have lighted a candle, to read the note," I whispered.</p> + +<p>Hugues kept a careful hold upon our end of the ladder, to which there +was fastened another cord, shorter and stronger than the first. My note +gave instructions to attach the ladder securely to a bed, or some other +suitable object, which, if movable, should then be placed close to the +window, but not so as to impede my entrance. It announced my intention +of visiting the Countess for a purpose of supreme importance to us both. +When the ladder was adjusted, a handkerchief should be waved up and down +in the window.</p> + +<p>"The Countess surely will not refuse to let me come and say what I have +to," I whispered, to reassure myself after we had waited some time.</p> + +<p>"Surely not, Monsieur. She does not know yet what it is," replied +Hugues.</p> + +<p>At that moment the handkerchief waved in the window.</p> + +<p>Hugues drew the ladder taut and braced himself. I grasped one of the +rounds, found a lower one with my foot, and began to mount. The ladder +formed, of course, an incline over the moat. When I had ascended some +way, Hugues, as we had agreed, allowed the ladder to swing gradually +across the moat and hang against the tower, he retaining hold of the +cord by which to draw the lower end back at the fit time. I now climbed +perpendicularly, close to the tower. It was a laborious business, +requiring great patience. Once I ran my eyes up along the tall tower and +saw the stars in the sky; once I looked down and saw them reflected in +the moat: but as these diversions made my task appear the longer, and +had a qualmish effect upon me, I thereafter studied only each immediate +round of the ladder as I came to it. As I got higher, I felt the wind +more; but it only refreshed me. Toward the end I had some misgiving lest +the ladder should lie too tight against the bottom of the window for me +to grasp the last rounds. But this fear proved groundless. Mathilde had +placed a pillow at the outer edge of the sill, for the ladder to run +over; and I had no sooner thrust my hand into the window than it was +caught in a firm grasp and guided to the proper round. Another step +brought my head above the sill: at the next, I had two arms inside the +long, shaft-like opening; my body followed, as Mathilde's receded. I +crawled through; lowered myself, hands and knees, to the couch beneath; +leaped to the floor, and kneeling before the Countess, kissed her hand.</p> + +<p>She was standing, and her dress was the same blue robe in which I had +seen her in the same room two nights before. The candle was on a small +table, which held also an illuminated book and an image of the Virgin, +and above which a crucifix hung against the wall. Besides the bed at the +window, there were another bed, a trunk, a chair, and a three-legged +stool.</p> + +<p>The Countess's face was all anxiety and question.</p> + +<p>"Thank God you are still safe!" said I.</p> + +<p>"And you!" she replied. "Brigitte told us you had escaped. I had prayed +your life might be saved. But now you put yourself in peril again. I had +hoped you were far away. Oh, Monsieur, what is it brings you back to +this house of danger?"</p> + +<p>"My going has surely made it a house of greater danger to you. It is a +marvel the Count has not already taken revenge upon you for my escape. I +thank God I am here while you still live."</p> + +<p>"My life is in God's hands. Was it to say this that you have risked +yours again, Monsieur? Oh, your coming here but adds to my sorrow."</p> + +<p>"Hear what sorrow you will cause, Madame, if you refuse to be saved +while there is yet time. I ask you to consider others. Below, waiting +for us, is Hugues, who has enabled me to come here to-night. You know +how that good brave fellow loves Mathilde. And you know that if you die, +Mathilde will share your fate, for the Count will wish to give his own +story of your death."</p> + +<p>"But Mathilde must not stay to share my fate. She must go away with you +now, while there is opportunity."</p> + +<p>"I will not stir from your side, Madame,—they will have to tear me away +when they come to kill you," said Mathilde, and then to me, "They have +not sent Madame any food to-day. I think the plan is to starve us."</p> + +<p>"Horrible!" I said. "That, no doubt, is because of my escape. But who +knows when the Count, in one of the rages caused by his fancies, may +turn to some method still more fearful. Madame, how can you endure this? +Why, it is to encourage his crime, when you might escape!"</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, you cannot tempt me with sophistries. What God permits—"</p> + +<p>"Has not God permitted me to come here, with the means of escape? Avail +yourself of them—see if God will not permit that."</p> + +<p>"We know that God permits sin, Monsieur, for his own good reasons. It is +for us to see that we are not they to whom it is permitted."</p> + +<p>"But can you think it a sin to save yourself?"</p> + +<p>"It is always a sin to break vows, Monsieur. And now—to go with you, of +all men—would be doubly a sin." She had lowered her voice, and she +lowered her eyes, too, and drew slightly back from me.</p> + +<p>"Then go with Hugues, Madame," said I, my own voice softened almost to a +whisper. "Only let me follow at a little distance to see that you are +safe. And when you are safe, finally and surely, I will go away, and we +shall be as strangers."</p> + +<p>Tears were in her eyes. But she answered:</p> + +<p>"No, Monsieur; I should still be a truant wife—still a breaker of vows +made to the Church and heaven."</p> + +<p>"Then you would rather die, and have poor Mathilde die after +you—Mathilde, who has no such scruples?"</p> + +<p>"Mathilde must go away with you to-night. I command her—she will not +disobey what may be the last orders I shall ever give her."</p> + +<p>"Madame, I have never disobeyed yet, but I will disobey this time. I +will not leave you." So said Mathilde, with quiet firmness.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Mathilde, it is unkind, unfair! You will save yourself for Hugues's +sake."</p> + +<p>"I will save myself when you save yourself, Madame; not before."</p> + +<p>The Countess sank upon the chair, and turning to the Virgin's image, +said despairingly:</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mother of heaven, save this child from her own fidelity!"</p> + +<p>"It is not Mathilde alone that you doom," I now said, thinking it time +to try my last means. "It is not only that you will darken the life of +poor Hugues. There is another who will not leave Lavardin if you will +not: one who will stay near, sharing your danger; and who, if you die, +will seek his own death in avenging you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Monsieur!" she entreated. "I was so glad to learn you had +escaped. Do not rob me of that consolation. Do not stay at Lavardin. +Live!—live and be happy, for my sake. So brave—so tender—the world +needs you; and you must not die for me—I forbid you!"</p> + +<p>"You will find me as immovable as Mathilde," said I.</p> + +<p>She looked from one to the other of us, and put forth her hands +pleadingly; then broke down into weeping.</p> + +<p>"Oh, will you make my duty the harder?" she said. "God knows I would +gladly die to save you."</p> + +<p>"It is not dying that will save us. The only way is to save yourself."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, you shall not drive me to sin by your temptations! Heaven +will save you both in spite of yourselves. That will be my reward for +putting this sin from me."</p> + +<p>"You persist in calling it a sin, Madame: very well. But is it not +selfish to go free from sin at the expense of others? If one can save +others by a sin of one's own, is it not nobler to take that sin upon +one's soul? Nay, is it not the greater sin to let others suffer, that +one's own hands may be clean?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you tempt me with worldly reasoning, Monsieur. Kind mother of +Christ," she said, fixing her eyes upon the image of Mary, "what shall I +do? Be thou my guide—speak to my soul—tell me what to do!"</p> + +<p>After a moment, the Countess again turned to me, still perplexed, +agitated, unpersuaded.</p> + +<p>"Madame," said I, "when one considers how soon the Count de Lavardin +must surely suffer for crimes of which you know nothing, your death at +his hands seems the more grievous a fate. Do you know that he is a +traitor?—that his treason will soon be known to the King's ministers? +If his jealousy had only waited a short while, or if my discovery had +occurred a little earlier, his death would have spared you all this. But +now, if you are not starved or slain before he is arrested, he will +surely kill you when he finds himself about to be taken.—My God, I had +not thought of that when I resolved to go to Paris at once! Oh, Madame, +fly now while there is chance! I assure you that doom is hovering over +the Count's head; if you stay here, I cannot go to Paris; but Hugues +shall go with this paper in my stead."</p> + +<p>"What is the paper, Monsieur? What do you mean by this talk of the Count +and treason?" she asked in sheer wonder.</p> + +<p>"It is a proof of the Count's participation in the late conspiracy. I +found it in the room where I was imprisoned. And come what may, I will +see that it goes to Paris for the inspection of the Duke de Sully. And +then there will be a short shrift for the Count de Lavardin, I promise +you."</p> + +<p>"But in that case, it would be you that caused his death, Monsieur!" she +exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"The executioner would cause his death—and the law. I should be but the +humble instrument of heaven to bring it to pass."</p> + +<p>"But you would be the instrument of my husband's death, Monsieur! That +must not be. You, of all men! No, no. Why, it would be an eternal +barrier between us—in thought and kind feeling, I mean,—in the next +world too. Oh, no; you must not use that paper, nor cause it to be +used."</p> + +<p>"But, Madame, he is a traitor. What matters it whether I or another—it +is only justice—my duty to the King."</p> + +<p>"But you do not understand. I should not dare even pray for you! And I +must not let you denounce him—I must prevent your using that paper. I +am his wife, Monsieur,—I must prevent. Otherwise, I should be +consenting to my husband's death!"</p> + +<p>"He has no scruples about consenting to yours, Madame."</p> + +<p>"The sin is on his part, then, not on mine. Come, Monsieur, you must let +me destroy that paper." She advanced toward me.</p> + +<p>"No, Madame; not I. Nay, I will use force to keep it, if need be! It is +my one weapon, my one means of vengeance." I tore my wrist from her +hand, and put the paper back into my inner pocket.</p> + +<p>"Then, Monsieur, I have said my last to you. I must put you out of my +thoughts, out of my prayers even. And if I find means, I must warn my +husband."</p> + +<p>"Listen, Madame. There is one condition upon which I will destroy this +paper and keep silence."</p> + +<p>She uttered a joyful cry. I knew that what she thought of was not her +husband's fate, but the barrier she had mentioned.</p> + +<p>"It is that you will escape with me at once," I said.</p> + +<p>The joy passed out of her face; but she was silent.</p> + +<p>"Consider," I went on. "Not merely your own life, not merely mine, not +merely Mathilde's, and the happiness of Hugues: it is in your power to +save your husband's life also, and to save his soul from the crime of +your murder, if there be any degree between act and intent. Is it not a +sin and a folly to refuse? Think of the blood already shed by reason of +this matter. Why should there be more?"</p> + +<p>At last she wavered. I turned to Mathilde, to speak of the order in +which we should descend the ladder.</p> + +<p>At that instant I heard the key begin to grate in the lock.</p> + +<p>"Some one is coming in!" whispered the Countess in alarm.</p> + +<p>Instantly I pushed Mathilde upon the couch beneath the window, in a +sitting posture, so that her body would conceal the end of the rope +ladder. The next moment I had pulled the other bed a little way out from +the wall, and was crouching behind it.</p> + +<p>The door opened, and I heard the noise of men entering with heavy tread. +Then the door closed. There was a sound of swift movement, then a scream +from Mathilde and a terrified cry from the Countess, both voices being +suddenly silenced at their height. I raised my head, and saw two +powerful men in black masks, one of whom was grasping the Countess by +the throat with his left hand while, with his right assisted by his +teeth, he was endeavouring to pass a looped cord around her neck. The +other man had both hands about the neck of Mathilde, that he might +sufficiently overpower her to apply a similar cord.</p> + +<p>I leaped over the bed, and upon the man who was trying to strangle the +Countess. Mad to save and avenge her, I sank my dagger into the back of +his shoulder, and he fell without having seen who had attacked him. The +murderer who was struggling with Mathilde immediately turned from her +and drew sword to attack me, at the same time crying out, "Garoche, to +the rescue!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus5" id="illus5"></a> +<img src="images/illus5.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"I LEAPED OVER THE BED, AND UPON THE MAN WHO WAS TRYING TO STRANGLE THE COUNTESS."</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>As I could not get the dagger out of the other man's shoulder joint in +time, I drew my sword, and parried my new antagonist's thrust. The door +now opened, and in came another man with drawn sword, not masked: he +was, I suppose, the man on guard on the landing. Seeing how matters +stood, he joined in the attack upon me. I backed into a corner, knocking +over the chair of the Countess, who had run to Mathilde. The two women +stood clasping each other, in terror. Suddenly my first assailant cried, +"I leave him to you for a moment, Garoche," and ran and transferred the +key from the outside to the inside of the door, which he then closed, so +as to lock us all in. This was doubtless to prevent the exit of the +Countess and Mathilde, the purpose being to keep the night's doings in +that room as secret as possible even from the rest of the household. +This man then pocketed the key, and, while Garoche continued to keep me +occupied in my corner, ran to a side of the cell and began working with +an iron wedge at a stone in the floor. He soon raised this, showing it +to be a thin slab, and left exposed a dark hole. He then turned to the +Countess, seized her around the waist, and tried to drag her toward the +opening. His instructions had been, no doubt, to slay the women without +bloodshed and drop the bodies through this secret aperture, but the +unexpected turn of affairs had made him decide to precipitate the end +and not strangle them first. Wild with horror at the prospect of their +meeting so hideous a death, I sprang into the air, and ran my sword +straight into the panting mouth of Garoche, so that the point came out +at the back of his neck. He dropped, and I disengaged my weapon barely +in time to check the onslaught of the other man, who, seeing Garoche's +fate, had left the Countess and come at me again. I was out of breath +after the violent thrusts I had made, and a mist now clouded my eyes. I +know not how this last contest would have gone, had not Mathilde, +recovering her self-command, drawn the sword of the man who had fallen +first, and, holding it with both hands, pushed it with all her strength +into my adversary's back.</p> + +<p>I wiped my weapons on the clothes of the slain murderers. The Countess +fell on her knees and thanked heaven for our preservation. I then went +to the opening made by the removal of the stone slab: peering down, I +could see nothing. I took the key of the door from the pocket of its +last holder, and dropped it through the hole, while the Countess and +Mathilde leaned over me, listening. Some moments passed before we heard +anything; then there came the sound of the key striking mud in the black +depths far below. The secret shaft, then, led to the bottom of the +tower.</p> + +<p>The Countess shuddered, and whispered: "Come, let us not lose a moment."</p> + +<p>I first lifted the masks, and recognized the murderers as fellows I had +seen lounging in the court-yard. Then I gave directions for descending +the ladder. I should have preferred being the last to leave the room but +that I thought it necessary to support the Countess in her descent and +Mathilde firmly refused to precede us. As the ladder might not hold the +weight of three, Mathilde would see us to the ground, and then follow.</p> + +<p>Two could not go out of the window at once, so I backed through first, +and waited when my feet were planted on the ladder, my breast being then +against the edge of the window sill. Madame followed me. I guided her +feet with one hand, and placed them on the ladder, having descended just +sufficiently to make room for her. I then lowered myself another round, +and she, holding on to a round in the window shaft with one hand, +grasped the first round outside with the other, emerged entirely from +the opening, and let me guide her foot a step lower. We then proceeded +downward in this manner, I holding my head and body well back from the +ladder so that her feet were usually on a level with my breast: thus if +she showed any sign of weakness, I could throw an arm around her. I had +first thought of having her clasp me around the neck, and so descending +with her, but once upon the ladder, I saw no safe way for her to get +behind me, or indeed to turn from facing the ladder. So we came down as +I say, while I kept as well as I could between her and the possibility +of falling. Frequently I asked in a whisper if all was well with her, +and she answered yes.</p> + +<p>When we were near the moat, I felt the ladder move from the wall and +knew that Hugues was drawing it toward him. I warned the Countess of our +change from a vertical to an inclined position, and so we were swung +across, and found ourselves above solid earth, on which we presently set +foot.</p> + +<p>"Best take Madame the Countess to the horses while I wait for Mathilde," +whispered Hugues to me, letting the ladder swing back; but Madame would +not go till the maid was safe beside us. Mathilde, who had watched our +descent, now drew her head in, and speedily we saw her feet emerge in +its stead. She came down the ladder with ease and rapidity, such were +her strength and self-possession. As soon as she touched the ground, +Hugues swung back the ladder to stay, and took up his cross-bow.</p> + +<p>"Come," I whispered, and we turned our backs to that grim tower and +hastened along the moat to the forest, passing on the way the high gable +window of what had been my prison, the postern which I had such good +reason to remember, and the oak from which I had seen Hugues display the +handkerchief. Scarce a word was spoken till we came to the horses. I +assisted the Countess to mount one of Hugues's two, she making no +difficulty about accommodating herself to a man's saddle. By that time +Hugues and Mathilde were on his second horse. I got upon my own, and we +started. Our immediate purpose was to go to Hugues's house by the woods +and lanes, fording the river below Montoire.</p> + +<p>As we came out of the forest, beyond St. Outrille, the moon rose, and +against the luminous Eastern sky we could see the dark tower we had left +behind,—tower of blood and death, on which I hoped never to set eyes +again.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + +<h3>THE PARTING</h3> + + +<p>We hoped to be at Hugues's house before the Countess's flight should be +discovered. Hugues and I discussed the chances as we rode. The Count +would probably give his murderous agents ample time before going to see +why they did not come to report the deed accomplished. He would then +lose many minutes in breaking into the cell, and again in questioning +the watchman on the tower—who could not have seen us in the woods and +distant lanes—and considering what to do. The bloodhounds would +doubtless be put upon the Countess's scent, but they would lose it at +the place where we had taken horse. And then, Hugues thought, having +tracked us into the forest, the Count would assume that we had continued +our flight through it without change of direction, and he would push on +to St. Arnoult, and along the road to Chateaurenault and Tours. This +was, indeed, the most likely supposition. The Count would scarce expect +to find us harboured in any house in the neighbourhood, and he knew +nothing of Hugues's attachment to Mathilde. Still I thought it well that +the Countess should travel on as far as possible that night, and I asked +her if she felt able to do so after stopping at Hugues's house for some +food.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," she answered compliantly.</p> + +<p>I then broke to her that Hugues's and I had provided a suit of boy's +clothes which she might substitute for her present attire at his house, +and so travel with less likelihood of attracting notice. To this she +made no objection. She seemed, on leaving the chateau, to have resigned +herself, almost languidly, to guidance. A kind of listlessness had come +over her, which I attributed to exhaustion of spirit after all she had +experienced.</p> + +<p>I then told her that Hugues and I had decided it best that Mathilde +should stay at his house for the present, keeping very close and having +the hiding-place accessible, while I went on with the Countess. Hugues +himself, who could entirely trust his old woman-servant and his boy, +would see us as far as to our first resting-place.</p> + +<p>To these proposals also she said "Very well," in a tone of +half-indifference, but she cast a long, sad look at Mathilde, at mention +of leaving her.</p> + +<p>"And then, Madame," I went on, "as to our journey after we leave +Hugues's house. You have said you are without relations or fortune."</p> + +<p>"Alas, yes. A provision for life-maintenance at the convent was all the +fortune left me."</p> + +<p>"In that case, I ask you, in the name of my father and mother, to honour +them as their guest at La Tournoire. I can promise you a safe and +private refuge there: I can promise you the friendship of my mother, the +protection of my father, and his good offices with the King, if need be, +to secure your rightful claims when the Count de Lavardin dies, as he +must before many years."</p> + +<p>"No, no, Monsieur, I shall have no claims. The Count married me without +dowry, and if there be any other claims I surrender them. As for your +generous offer, I cannot think of accepting it. You and I are soon to +separate, and must not see each other again."</p> + +<p>"But, Madame, I need not be at La Tournoire while you are there. I shall +be out in the world, seeking honour and fortune."</p> + +<p>"No, Monsieur, it is not to be thought of. My only refuge is the convent +from which the Count took me."</p> + +<p>"But is it safe to go there? Have you not said yourself that the Count +would take measures to intercept you on the way?"</p> + +<p>"But you and Hugues just now agreed that the Count would probably seek +me on the road to Chateaurenault. That is in the opposite direction to +the convent, which is beyond Chateaudun."</p> + +<p>"But the Count may seek toward the convent when he fails to find you in +the other direction. Or he may take the precaution to send a party that +way at once."</p> + +<p>"We shall be there before he or his emissaries can, shall we not? Once +in the convent, I shall be safe.—And besides, Monsieur,"—her voice +took on a faint touch of mock-laughing bitterness—"he will think I have +run away with you for love, and for a different life than that of a +convent. No; as matters are, it is scarce likely he will seek me in the +neighbourhood of the convent."</p> + +<p>It was then determined that we should make for the convent, which, +curiously, as it was beyond Chateaudun, happened to be upon my road to +Paris. We now arrived at Hugues's gate.</p> + +<p>I dismounted only to help the Countess, and stayed in the road with the +horses, while Hugues led Madame and Mathilde into the cottage. He took +them thence into the mill, that they might eat, and the Countess change +her dress, at the very entrance to the hiding-place. He then returned to +me, the plan being that if we heard pursuit he and I were to mount and +ride on, thus leading our enemies away from the Countess, who with +Mathilde should betake herself to the hiding-place till danger was past. +With Hugues's knowledge of the byways and forest paths, we might be able +to elude the hunt. During this wait we refreshed ourselves with wine and +bread, which the old woman brought, and the boy fed the horses. In a +short time the Countess reappeared, a graceful, slender youth in +doublet, breeches, riding-boots of thin leather, cap, and gloves. Her +undulating hair had been reduced by Mathilde, with a pair of shears, to +a suitable shortness. Mathilde followed her, loth to part. We allowed +little time for leave-taking with the poor girl, and were soon mounted +and away, Hugues leading.</p> + +<p>"I suggest, Madame," said I, as we proceeded along the road, which was +soon shadowed from the moonlight by a narrow wood at our right, "that on +this journey you pass as my young brother, going with me to Paris to the +University. I will say that we have ridden ahead of our baggage and +attendants,—which is literally true, for my baggage remains at Hugues's +house and you have left Mathilde there."</p> + +<p>"Very well, Monsieur," she replied.</p> + +<p>"I should have some name to call you by upon occasion," said I. "I will +travel as Henri de Varion, for De Varion was my mother's name, and if +you are willing to use it—"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, Monsieur. As for a name to call me by upon occasion, there +will be least falsehood in calling me Louis; for my real name is +Louise."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Madame; and if you have to address me before people, do not +forget to call me Henri."</p> + +<p>"I shall not forget."</p> + +<p>Her manner in this acquiescence was that of one who follows blindly +where a trusted guide directs, but who takes little interest in the +course or the outcome. A kind of forlorn indifference seemed to have +stolen over her. But she listened to the particulars of residence and +history with which I thought it wise to provide ourselves, and briefly +assented to all. She then lapsed into silence, from which I could not +draw her beyond the fewest words that would serve in politeness to +answer my own speeches.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Hugues led us from the road and across the narrow wood, thence +by a lane and a pasture field to the highway for Vendome and Paris. We +pushed on steadily, passed through Les Roches, which was sound asleep, +and, stopping only now and then to let our horses drink at some stream, +at which times we listened and heard no sound upon the road, we entered +Vendome soon after daylight.</p> + +<p>"Had we better stop here for a few hours?" said I, watching the Countess +and perceiving with sorrow how tired and weak she looked.</p> + +<p>"I think it well, Monsieur," replied Hugues, his eyes dwelling where +mine did.</p> + +<p>"And yet," I said, with a thought of the horror of her being taken, "it +is so few leagues from Lavardin. In such a town, too, the Count's men +would visit all the inns. If we might go on to some village—some +obscure inn. Could you keep up till then, Madame, do you think?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes,—I think so." But her pallor of face, her weakness of voice, +belied her words.</p> + +<p>"We should be more closely observed at some smaller place than here," +said Hugues. "Besides, we need not go to an inn here. There is a decent, +close-mouthed woman I know, a butcher's widow, who will lodge you if her +rooms are not taken. It would be best to avoid the inns and go to her +house at once. As like as not, if the Count did hunt this road, he would +pass through the town without guessing you were at private lodgings."</p> + +<p>"It is the best thing we can do," said I, with a blessing upon all +widows of butchers. Hugues guided us to a little street behind the +church of the Trinity, and soon brought the widow's servant, and then +the widow herself, to the door. Her rooms were vacant, and we took two +of them, in the top story, one overlooking the street, the other a +backyard wherein she agreed to let our horses stand. She promised +moreover to say nothing of our presence there, and so, while Hugues led +the horses through the narrow stone-paved passage, the widow showed us +to our rooms. The front one being the larger and better, I left the +Countess in possession of it as soon as we were alone, that she might +rest until the woman brought the food I had ordered.</p> + +<p>When breakfast was set out in the back room, and the Countess opened her +door in answer to my knock, she looked so worn out and ill that I was +alarmed. She had fallen asleep, she said, and my knock had wakened her. +She ate little, and I could see that she was glad to go back and lie +down again.</p> + +<p>I had thought to resume our journey in the evening, and perhaps reach +Chateaudun by a night's riding. But at evening the Countess seemed no +more fit to travel than before. So I decided to stay at the widow's till +Madame was fully recovered. Hugues would have remained with us another +day, but I sent him back to his mill and Mathilde.</p> + +<p>On the morrow the Countess was no better. I took the risk of going out, +obtaining medicine at the apothecary's, and purchasing other necessary +things for both of us which we had not been able to provide before our +flight. I was in dread lest we might have to resort to a physician and +so make discovery that my young brother was a woman. Madame declared her +illness was but exhaustion, and that she would soon be able to go on. +But it was some days before I thought her strong enough to do so.</p> + +<p>We had come into Vendome on a Wednesday: we left it on the following +Monday morning. We encountered nothing troublesome on the road, and +arrived at Chateaudun that Monday night. The Countess endured the +journey fairly well; but her strange, dreamy listlessness had not left +her.</p> + +<p>At Chateaudun as at Vendome, we sought out lodgings in a by-street, and +therein passed the night. We were now but a few hours' ride from the +convent, by Madame's account of its location. Soon I should have to part +from her, with the intention on her side not to see me again, and the +promise on mine to respect that intention. To postpone this moment as +long as possible, I found pretexts for delaying our departure in the +morning; but as afternoon came on she insisted upon our setting out. I +did so with a sorrowful heart, knowing it meant I must take my last +leave of her that evening.</p> + +<p>From our having passed nearly a week without any sign of pursuit, a +feeling of security had arisen in us. If the Count or his men had sought +in this direction, passing through Vendome while we lay quiet in our +back street, that search would probably be over by this time. But even +if chase had not been made simultaneously by various parties on various +roads, there had been time now for search in different directions one +after another. Yet spies might remain posted at places along the roads +for an indefinite period, especially near the convent. But as long as +the risk was only that of encountering a man or two at once, I had +confidence enough. In Vendome I had bought the Countess a light rapier +to wear for the sake of appearance, of course not expecting her to use +it. But though in case of attack I should have to fight alone, I felt +that her presence would make me a match for two at least.</p> + +<p>I tried to avoid falling in with people on the road, but a little way +out from Chateaudun we came upon a country gentleman, of a well-fed and +amiable sort, whose desire for companionship would let us neither pass +ahead nor drop behind. He was followed by three stout servants, and +expressed some concern at seeing two young gentlemen like us going that +road without attendants.</p> + +<p>"Though to be sure," he added, "there seems to be less danger now; but +you must have heard of the band of robbers that haunt the forests about +Bonneval and further on. There has been little news of their doings +lately, and some people think they may have gone to other parts. But who +knows when they will suddenly make themselves heard of again, when least +expected?—'tis always the way."</p> + +<p>He soon made us forget about dangers of the road, however, by his hearty +talk; though, indeed, for all his good-fellowship I would rather have +been alone with Madame in these last moments. About a league from +Chateaudun, he arrived at his own small estate, rich in wines and +orchards; he regretted that we would not stop, and recommended inns for +us at Bonneval and the towns beyond.</p> + +<p>We rode on, the Countess and I, in silence, my own heart too disturbed +for speech, and she in that same dispirited state which had been hers +from the beginning of our flight. Indeed now, when I was so soon to bid +her farewell, she seemed more tired and melancholy, pale and drooping, +than I had yet seen her. As I was sadly noticing this, we came to a +place where a lesser road ran from the highway toward a long stretch of +woods at the right. The Countess drew in her horse, and said, indicating +the branch road:</p> + +<p>"That is my way, Monsieur. I will say adieu here; but I will not even +try to thank you. You have risked your life for me many times over. I +will pray for you—with my last breath."</p> + +<p>"But, Madame," I exclaimed in astonishment, "we are not to say adieu +here. I must see you to the convent."</p> + +<p>"The convent is not so far now. I know the way; and I wish to go there +alone. You will respect my wish, I know: have you not had your way +entirely so far on our journey? You cannot justly refuse me my will +now." She gave a wan little smile as if she knew the argument was not a +fair one.</p> + +<p>"But, Madame,—what can be your reason?—It is not safe. Surely you will +not deny me the happiness of seeing my service fully accomplished,—of +knowing that you are safe at the convent?"</p> + +<p>"I am nearly there. I know the road,—it is a shorter way than the high +roads, but little used. I shall meet no travellers. I fear no danger."</p> + +<p>"But consider, Madame. The danger may be at the very end of your +journey. The Count may have spies within sight of the convent. You may +fall into a trap at the last moment."</p> + +<p>"I can go first to the house of a woodman in the forest, whose wife was +a servant of my mother's. They are good, trustworthy people, and can see +if all is safe before I approach the convent. If there is danger, I can +send word by them to the Mother Superior, who can find means to get me +in secretly at night. You may deem your service accomplished, Monsieur. +I must take my leave now."</p> + +<p>"But it is so strange! What can be your reason?—what can be your +objection to my going with you?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, Monsieur, it may be unfair, but a woman is exempt from having to +give reasons. It is my wish,—is not that enough? I am so deeply your +debtor already,—let me be your debtor in this one thing more.—You have +spent money for me: I have no means of repaying—nay, I will not mention +it,—you have given me so much that is above all price,—your courage +and skill. But enough of this—to speak of such things in my poor way is +to cheapen them. Adieu, Monsieur!—adieu, Henri!"</p> + +<p>She held out her hand, to which I lowered my lips without a word, for I +could not speak.</p> + +<p>"You will go your way when I go mine," she said with tenderness. "To +Paris, perhaps?"</p> + +<p>"To Paris—I suppose so," I said vaguely.</p> + +<p>"This horse belongs to Hugues," she said, stroking the animal's neck. "I +may find means to send it back to him.—Well, adieu! God be with you on +your journey, Monsieur,—and through your life."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Madame!—adieu, if you will have it so! adieu!—adieu, Louis!"</p> + +<p>She smiled acquiescently at my use of the name by which I had had +occasion to call her a few times at our lodging-places. Then, saying +once more, "Adieu, Henri!" she turned her horse's head and started down +the by-road. With a heavy heart, I waited till she had disappeared in +the woods. I had hoped she might look back, but she had not done so.</p> + +<p>A movement of my rein, which I made without intention, was taken by my +horse as a signal to go on, and the creature, resuming its original +direction, kept to the highway and plodded along toward Bonneval and +Paris.</p> + +<p>Never in all my life, before or since, have I felt so alone. What was +there for me to do now? All my care, all my heart, was with the solitary +figure on horseback somewhere yonder in the forest. Had life any object +for me elsewhere?</p> + +<p>Yes, faith!—and I laughed ironically as it came back to my thoughts—I +might now go on to Paris and cut off the moustaches of Brignan de +Brignan!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + +<h3>IN THE FOREST</h3> + + +<p>But I had not yet come in sight of Bonneval, when fearful misgivings +began to assail me as to what might befall the Countess. I awoke to a +full sense of my folly in yielding to her wish. Her own apparent +confidence of safety had made me, for a time, feel there must be indeed +small danger. I had too weakly given way to her right of command in the +case. I had been too easily checked by respect for what private reason +she might have for wishing to go on without company. I had played the +boy and the fool, and if ever there had been a time when I ought to have +used a man's authority, laughing down her protests, it had been when she +rode away alone toward the forest.</p> + +<p>I turned my horse about, resolved to undo my error as far as I +might,—to go back and take the road she had taken, and not rest till I +knew she was safe in the convent.</p> + +<p>My fears increased as I went. What the country gentleman had said about +robbers came back to my mind. I arrived at the junction of the roads, +and galloped to the woods. Once among the trees, I had to proceed +slowly, for the road dwindled to a mere path, so grown with grass as to +show how little it was ordinarily resorted to. But there were horseshoe +prints which, though at first I took them to be only those of the +Countess's horse, soon appeared so numerously together that I saw there +must have been other travellers there recently. I perceived, too, that +the wood was of great depth and extent, and not the narrow strip I had +supposed. It was, in fact, part of a large forest. I became the more +disquieted, till at last, as the light of day began to die out of the +woods, I was oppressed with a belief as strong as certainty, that some +great peril had already fallen upon her I loved.</p> + +<p>I came into a little green glade, around which I glanced. My heart +seemed to faint within me, for there, by a small stream that trickled +through the glade, was a horse grazing,—a horse with bridle and saddle +but no rider. The rein hung upon the grass, the saddle was pulled awry, +and the horse was that of the Countess.</p> + +<p>I looked wildly in every direction, but she was nowhere to be seen. The +horse raised his head, and whinnied in recognition of me and my animal, +then went on cropping the grass. I rode over to him, as if by +questioning the dumb beast I might learn where his mistress was. There +was no sign of any sort by which I might be guided in seeking her.</p> + +<p>I called aloud, "Madame! madame!" But there was only the faint breeze of +evening among the treetops for answer.</p> + +<p>But the horse could not have wandered far. Whatever had occurred, there +must be traces near. My best course was to search the forest close at +hand: any one of those darkening aisles stretching on every side, like +corridors leading to caves of gloom, might contain the secret: each +dusky avenue, its ground hidden by tangled forest growth, seemed to bid +me come and discover. I dismounted, knowing I could trust my horse to +stay in the glade, and, crossing the stream, explored the further +portion of the path.</p> + +<p>I came to a place where the underbrush at the side of the path was +somewhat beaten aside. I thought I could distinguish where some person +or animal had gone from this place, tramping a sort of barely traceable +furrow through the tangle. I followed this course: it led me back to the +glade. Doubtless the horse had made it.</p> + +<p>I was about to go back along the path, when I noticed a similar +trodden-down appearance along one side of the stream where it left the +glade. Hoping little, I examined this. It brought me, after a few yards, +to a clear piece of turf swelling up around the roots of an oak. And +lying there, on the grassy incline, with her head at the foot of the +oak, was the Countess, as silent and motionless as death, with blood +upon her forehead.</p> + +<p>My own heart leaping, I knelt to discover if hers still moved. Her body +stirred at my touch. I dipped my handkerchief in the stream, and gently +washed away the blood, but revealed no cut until I examined beneath the +hair, when I found a long shallow gash. I hastily cleansed her hair of +the blood as well as I could, with such care as not to cause the wound +to flow anew. All the time I was doing this, my joy at finding her alive +and free was such that I could have sobbed aloud.</p> + +<p>She awoke and recognized me, first smiling faintly, but in a moment +parting her lips in sorrowful surprise, and then, after glancing round, +giving a sigh of profound weariness.</p> + +<p>"Am I then still alive?" she murmured.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Madame;—I thank God from my heart."</p> + +<p>"It is His will," she said. "I had hoped—I had thought my life in this +world was ended."</p> + +<p>"Oh, do not say that. What can you mean?"</p> + +<p>"When they surrounded me—the men who sprang up at the sides of the +path—I thought, 'Yes, these are the robbers the gentleman spoke +of,—God has been kind and has sent them to waylay me: if I resist, I +may be killed, and surely I have a right to resist.' So I drew my sword, +and made a thrust at the nearest. He struck me with some weapon—I did +not even notice what it was, I was so glad when it came swiftly—when I +felt I could not save myself. The blow was like a kiss—the kiss of +death, welcoming me out of this life of sad and bitter prospects."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Madame, how can you talk in this way, when you are still young and +beautiful, and there are those who love you?"</p> + +<p>"You do not know all, Henri. What is there for me in life? I am weak to +complain—weak to long for death—sinful, perhaps, to put myself in its +way, but surely Heaven will pardon that sin,—weak, yes; but, alas, I +cannot help it,—women are weak, are they not? What is before me, then? +I am one without a place in the world—without relations, without +fortune. If I were a man, I might seek my fortune—there are the wars, +there are many kinds of honourable service. But what is there for a +woman, a wife who has run away from her husband?"</p> + +<p>"But Madame, the convent,—you have a right to be maintained there. You +can at least live there, till time annuls the Count's claims upon you. +And then who knows what the future may bring?"</p> + +<p>"The convent—I have told you I should be safe there, and so no doubt I +should if I took the veil—"</p> + +<p>"Nay, Madame, not that, save as a last resort!"</p> + +<p>"Alas, I may not though I would. Do you think I should hesitate if I +were free? How gladly I would bury myself from this world, give myself +at once to Heaven! But that resource—that happiness—is forbidden me. +My mother, as she neared death, saw no security for me but as a +life-guest at a convent. Our small fortune barely sufficed to make the +provision. But she did not wish me to become a nun, and as she feared +the influence of the convent might lead that way, she put me under a +promise never to take the veil. So I am without the one natural resource +of a woman in my position."</p> + +<p>"But do you mean that you will not be safe at the convent merely as a +guest?"</p> + +<p>"The Count may claim the fulfilment of his rights as a husband. He may +use force to take me away. The Mother Superior cannot withhold me from +him; and indeed I fear she would be little inclined to if she could, +unless I consented to take the veil. Before the possibility of my +marriage came up, she was always urging me to apply for a remission of +the vow to my mother, so that I might become a nun. But that I would +never do."</p> + +<p>"But, Madame, knowing all this, how could you select the convent as your +refuge, and let me bring you so far toward it?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, Monsieur, what place in the world was there for me? And yet I had +to go somewhere, that your life might be saved, and Mathilde's, and the +happiness of poor Hugues. There was no other way to draw you far from +that chateau of murder, no other way to detach Mathilde from one who +could bring her nothing but calamity. And to-day, when I left you, I +thought all this was accomplished, and I was free to go my way in search +of death."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Madame, if I had known what was in your mind! Then you did not mean +to go to the convent?"</p> + +<p>"I meant to go toward the convent. It is further away than I allowed you +to suppose. I felt—I know not why—that death would meet me on the way. +I felt in my heart a promise that God would do me that kindness. At +first I had no idea of what form my deliverer would take. Perhaps, I +thought, I might be permitted to lose my way in the forest and die of +hunger, or perhaps I might encounter some wild beast, or a storm might +arise and cause me to be struck by lightning or a falling bough, or I +might be so chilled and weakened by rain that I must needs lie down and +die. I knew not what shape,—all I felt was, that it waited for me in +the forest. And when the gentleman spoke of robbers, I rejoiced, for it +seemed to confirm my belief."</p> + +<p>"And that is why you would not let me come with you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, certainly; that you might not be present to drive death away from +me, or meet it with me. I hoped you would go on to Paris, thinking me +safe, and that you would soon forget me. You see how I desire you to +live, and how you can please me only by doing so."</p> + +<p>"And so, when you were at last in the forest—?"</p> + +<p>"At last in the forest, yes—I knew not how long I should have to ride, +but I made no haste,—sooner or later it would come, I thought. The +birds hopping about on the branches seemed to be saying to one another, +'See this lady who has come to meet death.' I crossed a glade, and +something seemed to whisper to my heart, 'Yonder it lies waiting, yonder +in the shades beyond that little stream.' So I went on, and true enough, +before I had gone far, five or six rough men sprang out from the bushes. +Two caught my reins, and one raised a weapon of some kind and bade me +deliver up my purse. I had no purse to deliver, and I feared they might +let me go as not worth their trouble. Then I thought they might hold me +for ransom, or rob me of my clothes, and discover I was a woman. Surely +I was justified in resisting such a fate; so I drew the sword you gave +me, and made a pass at the man with the weapon. He struck instantly, +before I could turn my head aside, and I had time only for a flash of +joy that God had indeed granted me deliverance. I scarce felt the blow, +and then all went out in darkness. I knew nothing after. How did I come +here? This is not the place where I met the robbers."</p> + +<p>"It is very strange," said I. "This is where I found you, only a little +while before you came to life. I had searched the path, but I saw no +robbers. They did not take your horse,—I found it in the glade yonder, +where I have left mine with it. That must be the glade you crossed +before they appeared."</p> + +<p>"But how came you to be here? Ah, did you disregard my wish and follow +me?"</p> + +<p>"Not at first. No; I went on toward Paris as you bade me. But after +awhile I too had a feeling of danger befalling you in this forest. It +was so strong that I could not force myself to go on. So I rode back, +hoping to come in sight of you and follow at a distance. I could not do +otherwise."</p> + +<p>"Ah, Henri, perhaps it is to you I owe the ill service of bringing me +back to life. Who knows?—I might have passed quietly away to death here +had you not come and revived the feeble spark left in me. I must have +been unconscious a long time."</p> + +<p>"Yes; thank God I arrived no later than I did. But why should the +robbers have brought you here? They have not even taken any of your +clothes. See, here is your sword, replaced in its scabbard; even your +cap is here, beside your head—look where the villain's weapon cut +through,—it must have been a sort of halberd. Why should they have +brought you here? Do they mean to return, I wonder?"</p> + +<p>I rose and looked around, peering through the dusky spaces between the +trunks of the trees, and straining my ears. Suddenly, amidst the chatter +of the birds returning to their places for the night, I made out a sound +of distant hoof-beats.</p> + +<p>"Horsemen!" I said. "But these robbers were on foot, were they not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I did not see any horses about."</p> + +<p>"Who can these be? There must be several!"</p> + +<p>They were apparently coming from that part of the forest toward which +the Countess had been riding. On account of the brushwood I could not +see them yet.</p> + +<p>"Well," said I, "we had best keep as quiet as possible till they pass. +But they will see our horses in crossing the glade. No, that must not +be. Wait."</p> + +<p>I ran back to the glade, and finding the horses close together, caught +them both, led them down the bed of the stream to where the Countess +was, and made them lie among the underwood, trusting to good fortune +that they would be quiet while the others were passing.</p> + +<p>Soon I could see, above the underbrush that extended to the path beyond +the brook, a procession of steel head-pieces, bearded faces, +breastplates over leather jerkins, and horses' heads. There were six or +seven men in all, one after another. I lay close to the earth and heard +them cross the stream. And then, to my astonishment, they came directly +along the stream by the way I had first come; I rose to my feet just in +time to face the leader as he stopped his horse within a yard of me.</p> + +<p>He gazed over the neck of his steed at me, and the Countess, and our two +animals. He was a tall, well-made, handsome man, seasoned but still +young, with a bronzed, fearless face.</p> + +<p>"Good evening," said he, in a rich, manly voice. "So the youngster has +come to his senses,—and found a friend, it appears."</p> + +<p>"I don't exactly understand you, Monsieur," said I.</p> + +<p>"You are not to blame for that," he replied good-humouredly. "It is true +I met your young friend awhile ago, but as he was more dead than alive +at that time, he couldn't have told you much. How is it with him now?"</p> + +<p>"I am not much hurt, Monsieur," replied the Countess for herself.</p> + +<p>"I scarce knew how I should find you when I returned," said the +newcomer.</p> + +<p>"Then you saw him here before, Monsieur?" said I.</p> + +<p>"Yes; it was I who brought him here,—but, faith! he was in no condition +to see what was going on. We were searching this forest on the King's +business, when I heard something a little ahead, which made me gallop +forward, and there I saw half-a-dozen ruffians around a horse, and one +of them dragging this youth from the saddle. I shouted to my comrades +and charged at the robbers. They dropped the lad, and made off along the +path. I stopped to see to the young gentleman, and ordered my companions +to pursue the rascals. The youngster, let me tell you, seemed quite done +for. He had been struck, as you see, evidently just before he was pulled +from the horse."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Monsieur," said the Countess; "and I knew nothing after the blow."</p> + +<p>"So it appeared," replied the horseman. "I saw that water was needed, +and remembering this stream we had crossed, I carried you to this place +and did what I could for you. But I had to go and recall my men,—I +feared they might be led too far, or separated by the robbers running in +different directions. That explains my leaving you alone. We have a +piece of work in hand, of some importance, and dare not risk anything +for the sake of catching those knaves."</p> + +<p>"I suppose they are part of the band that haunts this forest," said I.</p> + +<p>"No doubt. But this forest is at present the haunt of larger game. Those +scoundrels escaped us this time—they were favoured by the dusk and the +undergrowth. I was longer in catching up with my comrades than I had +thought. But I see all has gone well with that young gentleman in the +meantime."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Monsieur. I, his brother, ought never to have allowed him to go on +alone. But I was riding after, expecting to overtake him, when I came +upon his horse; I supposed he must be near, and I was fortunate enough +to seek in the right place. He shall not leave me again; and for us both +I thank you more than my tongue can ever express."</p> + +<p>"Pouf!—I did nothing. The question is, what now? My comrades and I have +affairs to look after in the forest. We shall continue on the path where +your brother met his accident, till we come to a certain forester's +house where we may pass the night. Your direction appears to be the +same, and you will be safe with us."</p> + +<p>"Again I thank you, Monsieur," I said, "but we shall give up our journey +through the forest. As soon as my brother feels able to ride, we shall +go back to the highway and pass the night at some inn. I think we shall +be safe enough now that you have frightened the robbers from this part +of the forest."</p> + +<p>The horseman eyed me shrewdly, and glanced at the Countess. It occurred +to me then that he had known her sex from the first, and that he now +trusted me with wisdom enough to judge best what I ought to do. So he +delicately refrained from pressing us, as he had all along from trying +to learn our secret. For a moment he silently twirled his moustaches; +then he said:</p> + +<p>"In that case, I have but to wish you good-night, and good fortune. +I think you will be safe enough between here and the highway. +Please do not mention that you have seen any of the King's guard +hereabouts,—though I fear that news is already on the wing."</p> + +<p>"What, Monsieur?—are you, then, of the King's guard?"</p> + +<p>"We have the honour to be so."</p> + +<p>"But I thought their uniform—"</p> + +<p>"Faith, we are in our working clothes," said he, with a laugh. The next +moment he waved us adieu, turned his horse about, and, his companions +also turning at his order, followed them out of our sight.</p> + +<p>"A very charming gentleman," said I, as the sound of their horses +diminished in our ears.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV.</h2> + +<h3>THE TOWER OF MORLON</h3> + + +<p>The Countess still lay on the grassy couch beneath the oak. She seemed +to have lost all will as to her course of action.</p> + +<p>"I think best not to go with those guards," I explained after a moment. +"For why should we travel their way without any destination? There is +nothing for us now in that direction. After what you have told me, I +dare not let you go to the convent."</p> + +<p>"There is no place for me," she said listlessly. "Death has disappointed +me, and left me in the lurch. I think this place is as good as another."</p> + +<p>She closed her eyes for some moments, as if she would lie there till +death came, after all.</p> + +<p>"No," said I; "you must not stay here. Night is coming on: the chill and +the dews will be harmful to you. Besides, there are clouds already +blotting out some of the stars, and the wind is rising and may bring +more. If there is rain, it may be heavy, after so many days of fine +weather. It will soon be too dark to follow the path. We must be getting +on."</p> + +<p>"I am weak from this blow," she said,—rather as if for a pretext +against moving, I thought. "I am not sure I could keep my saddle."</p> + +<p>"I can carry you as I ride, if need be, and let your horse follow. Come, +Madame, let us see if you can rise. If not, I will take you in my arms +to the glade, where it will be easier to mount."</p> + +<p>I stooped to support her, but she did not stir.</p> + +<p>"But where am I to go?" she said. "Of what use to travel aimlessly from +place to place? As you say, why should we ride on toward the convent +without a destination? But where else have I a destination?"</p> + +<p>"Listen, Madame. Is it not probable that after some weeks, or months, +the Count, still disappointed of your taking refuge at the convent, will +give up hope or expectation of finding you there? Will he not then +withdraw his attention from the convent?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose so."</p> + +<p>"And can we not, if we take time, find means to learn when that becomes +the case? Can we not, by careful investigation, make sure whether he is +still watching the convent or whether he has an informant there? Can we +not enter into communication with the Mother Superior, and find out what +her attitude is toward you,—whether, if you returned, your residence +there would be safe and kept secret? Surely she would not betray you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; whatever attitude she took, she would tell me the truth."</p> + +<p>"Then it is only necessary to wait a few months and take those measures, +without letting your own whereabouts be known even to the Mother +Superior."</p> + +<p>"But meanwhile would you have me continue doing as I have done since my +flight,—passing as something I am not, receiving the protection—living +on the very bounty—of the one person in all the world from whom I +should accept nothing? Why, Monsieur, if it were known—if no more than +the mere truth were told—would it not seem to justify the Count de +Lavardin?"</p> + +<p>"I do not ask you to do as you have done. For only two or three days you +need pass as a boy. You may then not only resume the habit of a woman, +but enjoy the company and friendship of a woman as saintly as yourself. +Your presence in her house must be a secret till affairs mend, but you +may be sure that if her friendship for you were known, it would be a +sufficient answer to anything your husband or the world might say +against you."</p> + +<p>"It is of your mother that you speak. But I told you before, it is not +from you that I dare accept so much."</p> + +<p>"It will be from my mother, who will believe me when I tell her the +truth, and who will take you as her guest and friend for your own sake. +As for me, my affairs in Paris will keep me from La Tournoire while you +are there:—for consider, what I propose now is not what you refused +that night we fled from Lavardin. I spoke then of your making La +Tournoire your refuge for an indefinite time,—the rest of your life, if +need be:—I speak now of your staying there only till your safe +residence at the convent can be assured,—only a few months, or weeks."</p> + +<p>Though I had begun and ended by speaking of the convent, I did so merely +with the object of inducing her to go to La Tournoire. Once there, she +would be under the guidance and persuasion of my mother, who could +influence her to remain till the Count's death removed all danger.</p> + +<p>"You must not refuse, Madame," I went on. "God has shown that He does +not desire your death, and it must be His will that you should accept +this plan, so clear and simple. Speak, Madame!"</p> + +<p>"I know not.—I have no strength, no will, to oppose further. Let it be +as you think best." The last vestige of her power of objection, of +resolving or thinking for herself, seemed to pass out in a tired sigh.</p> + +<p>"Good!" I cried. "Then we have but to regain the road and find some inn +for the night. To-morrow we shall ride back to Chateaudun, or perhaps on +to Bonneval, and then make for La Tournoire by Le Mans and Sablé, which +is to give a wide berth to Montoire and the road we have come by. Do you +think you can rise, Madame?—Nay, wait till I lead the horses out."</p> + +<p>I took the horses to the glade, then returned and found the Countess +already on her feet, though with her hand against the tree, as she was +somewhat dizzy. She walked with my assistance, and I helped her to her +saddle,—she now thought herself able to ride without support. I mounted +my own horse, grasped the halter of the other, and took the path for the +highway.</p> + +<p>"We are none too soon," said I, as we left the glade. "How dark the path +is even now: I hope we shall be able to keep it."</p> + +<p>Darkness came on more quickly than usual, because of the swift +overclouding of the sky. Very soon I could not see two paces before me. +Then blackness settled down upon us. My horse still went on, but slowly +and uncertainly, with many a halt to make sure of footing and a free +way. When I glanced back, I could not see the Countess, but I held the +tighter to the halter of her horse and frequently asked if all was well. +Her reply was, "Yes, Monsieur," in a faint, tired voice. I felt about +with my whip for the trees at the side of the path, and thus was able to +guide the horse when its own confidence faltered.</p> + +<p>Instead of cooling, the air became close. Suddenly the forest was +lighted up by a pale flash which, lasting but a moment, was followed +after a time by a distant rumble of thunder.</p> + +<p>"It is far away, Madame," said I. "It may not come in this direction, or +we may be safely housed before it does."</p> + +<p>"I am not afraid."</p> + +<p>However, lest rain might fall suddenly, I stopped the horses, unrolled +from behind my saddle a cloak which I had bought in Vendome, and put it +around the Countess. We then proceeded as best we could. Slowly as we +had gone, I began to think it time we should emerge from the forest; but +another flash of lightning showed apparently endless vistas of wood on +every side. We went on for another half hour or so, during which the +distant thunder continued at intervals; and then, finding ourselves as +deep in the forest as ever, I perceived that we must have strayed from +our right path. I stopped and told the Countess.</p> + +<p>"It must be so," she said.</p> + +<p>"I noticed no cross-path when I rode into the forest this afternoon. Yet +a path might join at such an angle that, looking straight ahead, I +should not have seen it. Yes, that is undoubtedly the case, if we are in +a path at all. Perhaps we are following the bed of a dried-up stream."</p> + +<p>"Do you wish to turn back, then?"</p> + +<p>"We might only lose ourselves. And yet that is what must happen if we go +ahead. Let us wait for a flash of lightning."</p> + +<p>One came presently, while my eyes were turned ready in what I thought +the direction from which we had come. But there seemed to lie no opening +at all in that direction. Then, in the blacker darkness that ensued, I +remembered that I had turned my horse slightly while talking of the +matter. I could not now tell exactly which direction we had come from. +It occurred to me that perhaps for some time we had wandered about in no +path at all, going where trees and underbrush left space clear enough to +be mistaken.</p> + +<p>I confessed that I knew not which way to go, even to find the original +path.</p> + +<p>"Is it best to ride on at random, in hope of coming upon something, or +to stay where we are till daylight?" I asked.</p> + +<p>The Countess had no will upon the matter. But the question was decided +for me by a heavy downpour of rain, which came in a rush without +warning. It was evident that the foliage over us was not thick. So I +shouted to the Countess that we would go on till we found trees that +gave more protection. I urged my horse to move, letting him choose his +own course, and he obediently toiled forward, I exerting myself to keep +the other horse close, and also feeling the way with my whip.</p> + +<p>As swift as the oncoming of the rain, was the increase of the lightning, +both in frequency and intensity. The fall of the rain seemed loud beyond +measure, but it was drowned out of all hearing when the thunder rolled +and reverberated across the sky. In the bright bursts of lightning, the +trees, seen through falling rain, seemed like companions suffering with +us the chastisement of the heavens; but in the darkness that intervened +between the flashes, the forest and all the world seemed to have died +out of existence, leaving nothing but the pelting waters and the din of +the storm.</p> + +<p>At last we came, not to a region where the boughs were less penetrable, +but to an open space where the downpour had us entirely at its mercy. I +thought at first we had got out of the forest, or into the glade we had +left: but a brilliant flash showed us it was another small clearing, +which rose slightly toward the thick woods on its further side. And the +same lightning revealed, against the background of trees, a solitary +tower, old and half-ruined, slender and of no great height. A doorway on +a level with the ground stood half open.</p> + +<p>"Did you see that?" I cried, when the lightning had passed. "There is +shelter."</p> + +<p>"It must be the tower of Morlon," said the Countess.</p> + +<p>"And who lives there?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody,—at least it was said to be empty when I used to hear of it. It +is all that is left of a house that was destroyed in the civil wars. +Hunting parties sometimes resort to it, and the peasants make use of it +when passing this way.—Yes, we have come far out of our road, if that +is really the tower of Morlon."</p> + +<p>"Then it is every man's house. The door is open."</p> + +<p>"It is an abandoned place, and people would take no care how they left +the door."</p> + +<p>"Let us go in, then. There can be nobody there, or the door would be +closed against this storm."</p> + +<p>I rode toward the spot where I supposed the tower was, and, rectifying +my course by the next flash, I presently felt the stone wall with my +whip. I dismounted, found the entrance, pushed the door wide, and saw by +the lightning a low-ceiled interior, which was empty. I led the horses +in, helped the Countess from the saddle, and removed her cloak, which, +though itself drenched, had kept her clothes comparatively dry.</p> + +<p>My first thought was of a place where the Countess might recline. But, +as I found by groping about and by the frequent lightning, there was +nothing except the floor, which, originally paved with stone, was now +covered with dried mud from the boots of many who had resorted to the +place before ourselves. There were no steps leading to the upper stories +of the tower: the part we were in was, indeed, but a sort of basement. +It occupied the full ground space of the tower, with the rough stone as +its only shell, and had no window nor any discoverable opening place in +the low ceiling.</p> + +<p>Thinking there might be an external staircase to the story above us, I +went out and felt my way around the tower, but found none. The entrance +to the main or upper part of the tower from the buildings that once +adjoined must have been to the story above, from a floor on the same +level. I thought of seeking the opening and climbing in from the back of +my horse, but I reflected that the upper stories also would doubtless be +denuded, while they could offer no better shelter from the rain. So I +was content with taking the saddles from the horses, and placing them +together upside down in such a way that they constituted a dry reclining +place for the Countess.</p> + +<p>There was no dry wood to be had from the forest, and no fuel of any kind +in our place of refuge; so I could not make a fire. While the Countess +sat in silence, I paced the floor until I succumbed to fatigue. By that +time, much of the water had dripped from my clothes, and I was able to +sit on the carpet of earth with some comfort. I leaned my back against +the wall, to wait till the storm and the night should pass.</p> + +<p>The horses had lain down, and the Countess, as I perceived by her deep +breathing and her not answering me, was asleep. The thunder and +lightning were less near and less powerful, but the rain still fell, now +decreasingly and now with suddenly regathered force. At last I too +slept.</p> + +<p>I awoke during the night, and changed from a sitting to a lying +position. When I next opened my eyes, the light of dawn was streaming in +at the door. The storm had ceased, birds were twittering outside. I was +aching and hungry. The Countess's face, as she slept, betokened weakness +and pain. I went and adjusted a saddle-flap that had got awry under her. +As I did so, she awoke.</p> + +<p>"I am so tired," she said in a slow, small voice, like that of a weary +child.</p> + +<p>"You are faint for want of food," said I. "You have eaten nothing since +noon yesterday, and very little then."</p> + +<p>Thinking I wished to hurry our departure in search of breakfast, she +shook her head and murmured weakly:</p> + +<p>"I am not able to go on just now. I assure you, I cannot even stand. All +strength seems to have gone out of me." As if to illustrate, she raised +her hand a few inches: it trembled a moment, then fell as if powerless.</p> + +<p>It was plain that she was, whether from fatigue and privation alone, or +from illness also, in a helpless state. It would be cruelty and folly to +put her on horseback. And without at least the refreshment of food and +wine, how was her condition to be improved so that she might leave this +place?</p> + +<p>After some thought and talk, I said:</p> + +<p>"The only thing is for me to go and get you food and wine, while you +stay here. But, alas, what danger you may be in while I am gone! If +anybody should come here and find you!"</p> + +<p>"Nobody may come. Surely there are many days when this place is left +deserted."</p> + +<p>"But if somebody <i>should</i> come?"</p> + +<p>"All people are not cruel and wicked. It might be a person who is kind +and good."</p> + +<p>"But the robbers?"</p> + +<p>"Why should they come? There is nothing for them here. If they came it +would be by chance; against that, we can trust in God."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps intruders can be bolted out," said I, going to examine the +door. It was of thick oak, heavily studded with nails, and two of its +three hinges still held firmly. But there was no bolt, nor any means of +barring.</p> + +<p>"Nothing but a lock," I said, "and no key for that." It only aggravated +my feeling of mockery to discover that both parts of the lock were still +strong. In my petulance I flung the door back against the wall.</p> + +<p>As one sometimes gives the improbable a trial, from mere impulse of +experiment, I took from my pocket the two keys I had brought from +Lavardin. I tried first that of the room in which I had been imprisoned: +it was too small, and of no avail. I then inserted the key of the +postern. To my surprise, it fit. I turned it partly around; it met +resistance: I used all my power of wrist; the lock, which had stuck +because it was rusted and long unused, yielded to the strength I +summoned.</p> + +<p>"Thank God!" I cried. "It seems like the work of providence, that I kept +the postern key."</p> + +<p>I now reversed and withdrew the key, and applied it to the lock from the +inside of the door, which I had meanwhile closed. But alas!—no force of +mine could move the lock from that side, though I tried again and again.</p> + +<p>I went outside and easily enough locked the door from there. I then +renewed my endeavours from the inside, but with failure.</p> + +<p>"Alas!" said I, turning to the Countess; "if I cannot lock the door from +within, how much less will you be able to do so."</p> + +<p>"But you can lock it from without," she answered, taking trouble to +secure my peace of mind. "Why not lock me in? It will be the same thing. +In either case I should not go out during your absence."</p> + +<p>"That is true," I said. "I will make haste. If the door is locked +against intruders, what matters it which of us has the key? I will guard +it as my life,—nay, that too I will guard as never before, for yours +will depend upon it."</p> + +<p>I then questioned the Countess as to what part of the forest we were in, +but her knowledge of the location of the tower, with regard to roads or +paths, was vague.</p> + +<p>I decided to take both horses with me, lest one, being heard or seen, in +or about the tower, might excite the curiosity of some chance passer +through the forest. But I left the saddles with the Countess. Anxious to +lose no more time, I knelt and kissed her hand, receiving a faint smile +in acknowledgment of my care; led out the horses, locked the door, +pocketed the key, mounted, and was off. I went haunted by the sweet, +sorrowful eyes of the Countess as they had followed me to the door.</p> + +<p>With the sun to guide me, I rode Westward, for in that direction must be +the highway we had left the day before. By keeping a straight course, +and taking note of my place of emergence from the forest, I should be +able to find my way back to the tower. The leaves overhead were nowhere +so thick but that splashes of sunshine fell upon the earth and +undergrowth, and, by keeping the shadow of my horse and myself ever +straight in front, I maintained our direction. But besides this I +frequently notched the bark of some tree, always on its South side, with +my dagger. Having this to do, and the second horse to lead, and the +underbrush being often difficult, my progress was slower than suited my +impatience. But in about an hour and a half from starting, I came out of +the forest upon the bank of the Loir, which is so insignificant a stream +thereabouts that I may not have mentioned fording it upon entering the +woods on the previous day. I let the horses drink, and then rode +through, and across a meadow to the highway. I turned to the right, and +arrived, sooner than I had expected, at the gate of a town, which proved +to be Bonneval. I stopped at the inn across from the church, saw to the +feeding of my horses, and then went into the kitchen. I ordered a supply +of young fowl, bread, wine, milk in bottles, and other things; and +bargained with the innkeeper for a pair of pliable baskets and a strap +by which they might be slung across my horse like panniers. While I +waited for the chickens to roast, I used the time in reviving my own +energies with wine, eggs, and cold ham, which were to be had +immediately.</p> + +<p>Three or four people came or went while I was eating, and each time +anybody crossed the threshold of the door, I glanced to see what sort of +person it was. This watchfulness had become habitual to me of late. But +as I was about finishing my meal, with my eyes upon my plate, I had an +impression that somebody was standing near and gazing at me. As I had +not observed any one to come so close, I looked up with a start. And +there stood Monsieur de Pepicot, his nose as long as ever, his eyes as +meek as when they had first regarded me at Lavardin.</p> + +<p>"My faith!" I exclaimed. "You rise like a spirit. I neither saw nor +heard you enter."</p> + +<p>"I am a quiet man," he replied with a faint smile, sitting down opposite +me.</p> + +<p>"You are the very ghost of silence itself," said I. "What do you wear on +the soles of your boots?"</p> + +<p>Again he smiled faintly, but he left my question unanswered. "So you +managed to keep out of trouble at that place where I last saw you?" said +he.</p> + +<p>"If I did not keep out of it, at least I got out of it."</p> + +<p>"You are a clever young man,—or a lucky one. I was a little disturbed +in mind at leaving you as I did. But—business called me. I knew that if +you could manage to keep a whole body for ten days or so, even if that +amiable Count did see fit to cage you up, you would be set free in the +end."</p> + +<p>"Set free? By the Count, do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all. By those who would visit the Count; by those who have—But +stay,—have you not just come from Lavardin?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed. I left that hospitable house more than a week ago. I set +myself free."</p> + +<p>"Oh, is that the case? I ask your pardon. When I saw you here, I +naturally supposed your liberation was a result of what has just +occurred. I haven't yet learned all particulars of the event."</p> + +<p>"What event? I don't understand you."</p> + +<p>"Then you don't know what has been going on at Lavardin recently?"</p> + +<p>"Not I."</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed? Well, it will be known to all the world very soon. The +Count, it seems, was suspected of some hand in the late intrigue with +Spain—"</p> + +<p>"Ah!"</p> + +<p>"Why do you say 'Ah!'?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing. I always thought there might be something wrong with the +Count's politics."</p> + +<p>"Well, so they thought in Paris. And having made sure—"</p> + +<p>"How did they make sure?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, by the discovery of certain documents, no doubt," said Monsieur de +Pepicot, with a notable unconsciousness. "It is the usual way, is it +not?"</p> + +<p>"Aha! I begin to see now. You overdo the innocence, my friend. I begin +to guess what you were doing at Lavardin—"</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, I know not what you mean."</p> + +<p>"I begin to guess why you wanted to get into the chateau,—what you were +wandering about the house with a lantern for,—why you took your leave +so unexpectedly,—and how you knew that in ten days I should be set +free."</p> + +<p>"Nay, Monsieur, I cannot follow you in your perceptions. I know only +that on Monday evening a party of the King's guard appeared before the +Chateau de Lavardin—"</p> + +<p>"Having been sent from Paris soon after you had arrived there with the +documents you found in the chateau."</p> + +<p>"Please do not interrupt with your baseless conjectures, Monsieur. As I +said, the guards arrived at Lavardin just as, by great good fortune, the +Count himself was returning from some journey or excursion he had been +on. Thus they met him outside his walls: had it been otherwise they +would doubtless have had infinite trouble, for, as we know, the chateau +has been for some time fully prepared for a siege, even to being +garrisoned by the company of Captain Ferragant."</p> + +<p>"What! then those fellows who thronged the court-yard—"</p> + +<p>"Were a part of Captain Ferragant's famous company,—only a part, as I +should have said at first, unless he has reduced its numbers. Well, +instead of having the difficulty of besieging the chateau, the guards +had the luck to meet the Count in the road, when he had only a few +followers with him. And so they made short work."</p> + +<p>"They succeeded in arresting him?"</p> + +<p>"Not exactly that. He chose to resist, no doubt thinking he would soon +be reinforced from the chateau by the Captain and garrison. And in the +fight, the Count was killed,—stuck through the lungs by the sword of a +guard who had to defend himself from the Count's own attack."</p> + +<p>"My God! the Count killed!—dead!—out of the way!" For a moment I +entirely yielded to the force of this news, which to my ears meant so +much.</p> + +<p>"Yes. You don't seem grieved.—Yes: he will never annoy people again. +The Captain, though, seeing from the chateau how matters had gone, came +out with his men on horseback,—not to avenge the Count, but to ride off +as fast as possible in the other direction. So the King's guardsmen had +no trouble in getting into the chateau. A party of them, I believe, set +off in pursuit of the Captain, who has long been a thorn in the side of +people who love order. If he is caught, it can be shown that he was +involved in the treason; and there it is."</p> + +<p>"So the Captain has not been caught?"</p> + +<p>"He had not been when I heard the news."</p> + +<p>"And how did you hear it?"</p> + +<p>"From one of the guardsmen, who happens to be of my acquaintance. I saw +them as they came through Chateaudun yesterday afternoon, on their +return from this business. We had very little time for talking."</p> + +<p>"Then you were not with them at Lavardin?"</p> + +<p>"I with them? Certainly not, Monsieur. Why should I have been with them? +No; I have been staying in this part of the country for my own pleasure +the past few days: I think of buying some apple orchards near +Chateaudun.—I fancied you would be interested in this news."</p> + +<p>"I am, dear Monsieur de Pepicot,—infinitely. I am sorry I must leave +you now, but I have business of some haste. I thank you heartily, and +hope we may meet again. You know where La Tournoire is."</p> + +<p>Five minutes later, with my baskets slung before me, and having left one +horse at the inn, I was riding out of Bonneval to tell the Countess that +she was free.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> + +<h3>THE MERCY OF CAPTAIN FERRAGANT</h3> + + +<p>I had come to a place where the road runs, narrower than ever, between +banks covered with bushes. All at once the perfect loneliness and +silence were broken by three or four men leaping out of the bushes in +front of me and barring the way, one presenting a pistol, another a long +pike, while a third prepared to seize my rein. I instantly spurred +forward, to make a dash for it: at the same time I was conscious that +other fellows had sprung into the road behind me. The knave caught both +reins close to the bit, and hung on under the horse's head, while the +poor animal tried to rear. I drew sword and dagger, and leaned forward +to run this fellow through. As I made my thrust, my senses suddenly went +out in a kind of fire-streaked darkness. As I afterwards learned, I had +been struck on the back of the head with a loaded cudgel by one of the +unseen men behind. When I came to myself I was lying on the earth in a +little bushy hollow away from the road: my hands were tied behind me, +and around each ankle was fastened a rope, of which one of my assailants +held the loose end. These two fellows and their four comrades were +seated on the ground, eating the fowls and drinking the wine and milk I +had provided for the Countess. One of them wore my sword, another had my +dagger. My purse lay empty on the grass, and my horse was hobbled with +the strap from my baskets.</p> + +<p>My first thought was of the key. Searching about with my eyes, I +presently saw it, with the other one, at the edge of the bushes, where +they had doubtless been thrown as of no value.</p> + +<p>My head was aching badly, but that was nothing to the terror in my heart +for the Countess: if I was hindered from going to her, who was to give +her aid?—nay, who was to release her from that dark hiding-place? She +would die for lack of food and air,—her cell of refuge would be her +tomb!</p> + +<p>"Ah!" exclaimed one of the robbers; "the worthy young gentleman comes to +life."</p> + +<p>"You are right," said I, trying to hit the proper mood in which to deal +with them. "I'm not sorry, either, as I was in some haste to get on. My +friends, as you appear to have emptied me of everything that can be of +any use to you, what do you say to allowing my poor remaining self to go +about my business?"</p> + +<p>"And to give information about us as soon as you get to Chateaudun, eh?" +said one.</p> + +<p>I was satisfied to let them think I was bound for Chateaudun.</p> + +<p>"No," I replied. "Poor as I am, the toll you have collected from me is +not as much as my necessity of finishing my journey. So if you will +untie me, and can find it in your hearts to give me back my horse—or at +worst to let me go afoot,—I will cry quits, and give you my word of +honour to forget you completely."</p> + +<p>"You speak well, young gentleman: but it's not to us that you need +speak. We shall be taking you presently to one you can make proposals +to."</p> + +<p>"Why should you waste time in taking me to your leader, when you are +quite able to make terms yourselves?" said I. "Come. I can offer him no +more than I can offer you. Suppose it were a hundred crowns: he would +have the lion's share of it, and you poor fellows would get but a small +part. If I deal with you alone, he need be never the wiser, and you will +have the whole sum to divide among you."</p> + +<p>"And how would you get the five hundred crowns?"</p> + +<p>"I said one hundred: I would get them by going for them: I would give +you my promise on the honour of a gentleman."</p> + +<p>The ruffians laughed. "No," said the one who had spoken most. "You would +have to stay with us, and send for them. And our leader is the one to +manage that. He will make you a fine, fair offer, no doubt."</p> + +<p>My heart sank. I tried persuasion, but nothing could move them. +Doubtless each was afraid of the others, or they were very strongly +under the dominion of their chief.</p> + +<p>I asked them to give me back my keys, whereupon one of them put the keys +in his own wallet. They finished the food and drink, and made ready to +depart. Their preparations consisted mainly of blindfolding me with a +thick band of cloth, putting me on my horse, and tying together under +the animal's belly the ropes that bound my ankles. Then a man mounted +behind me, I heard another take the rein to lead, the horse was turned +around several times so as to confuse my sense of direction, and we set +off. We presently crossed a stream, and a little later I knew by sound +and smell that we were in the forest. When we had traversed a part of +it, the horse was again turned around twice or thrice, and we continued +on our way. All the time I was thinking of her who waited for me in the +darkness of her tomb-like prison.</p> + +<p>At last, by feeling the sun upon me and by other signs, I knew that we +had come to a space clear of trees. We stopped a moment, and I heard +calls exchanged and a gate opened; and then my horse's feet passed from +turf to a very rough, irregular pavement. The sound of horses in their +stalls at one side, the cooing of pigeons at the other, the gate, the +rude paving, the remote situation, all taken together informed me that +we were in an enclosed farm-yard. We stopped a second time, and my ankle +ropes being then detached from each other, I was hauled down from the +horse. The men with me were now greeted by others, who came apparently +from the side buildings. I was led forward into a stone-floored passage, +where I had to sit on a bench, guarded by I know not how many, while one +went up a flight of stairs near at hand, evidently to give an account of +their prize to somebody in authority. Presently a voice from above +called down, "Bring the prisoner hither," and I was taken upstairs and +through a doorway.</p> + +<p>My entrance drew an ejaculation from a person already in the room, who +thereupon gave orders in a low voice. I was made to sit on the floor, +and my ankles were tied close together. A chain was then wound +ingeniously about my ankle-bonds, my legs, and the cords at my wrists; +passed through a hole in the floor and around a cross beam, and finally +fastened with a padlock, in such a way that I was secured beyond power +of extricating myself.</p> + +<p>"Now, go, and wait in the passage," said the voice in which the previous +orders had been given. "But first take that rag from his eyes. He may as +well see: it will amuse him, and will not hurt us,—I will take care of +that."</p> + +<p>The band was removed, and I found myself in a bare, plastered room with +a barred window. In front of me stood a large man with a mask on his +face. Where the mask ended, his beard began, so that he presented a +visage entirely of black. The robbers who had brought me hither went +out, closing the door, and I was left alone with this man.</p> + +<p>He regarded me a moment; then dropped into a chair, with a low grunt of +laughter.</p> + +<p>"That it should be this fool, of all fools!" he began. "Who shall say +there is no such thing as luck? Monsieur, I am sure it will please you +to know into whose hands you have fallen."</p> + +<p>He took off his mask, and there was the red-splashed face of Captain +Ferragant.</p> + +<p>Surprise made me dumb for a moment, for he had hitherto disguised his +voice. He sat looking at me with a most cruel expression of malevolent +triumph.</p> + +<p>"So, this is where you have fled,—and you are the chief of the +robbers!" said I.</p> + +<p>"Call me that if you like. It matters nothing what names you prefer to +use. No ears will ever hear them but mine; and mine will not be long +afflicted with the sound."</p> + +<p>I shuddered, for I knew the implacability of this man, and my death +meant the death of the Countess,—death in the dark, mouldy basement of +the tower, death by stifling and starvation while she waited in vain for +me, a slow and solitary death, rendered the more agonizing to her mind +by suspense and fears. And this horrible fate must needs be hers just +when the cause of her sorrows and dangers had been removed! It was a +thought not to be endured.</p> + +<p>"You will have your jest," said I. "But I see no reason why you should +bear me malice. The Count de Lavardin is now a dead man, I hear. I can +no longer be against him, nor you for him. Therefore bygones should be +bygones, and I suppose you will make terms with me as with any other man +who happened to come before you as I do."</p> + +<p>"You do me an injustice, young gentleman: I am not so mercenary,—I do +not always make terms. It is true, I served the Count for pay; that is +what my company is for, and if he had not gone out of his chateau to +hunt his wife, we might have defended the place till the enemy was tired +out. But he allowed himself to be caught in the road,—you have heard +the news, then? What do they say of me?"</p> + +<p>"That when you saw the Count was killed, you ran away."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I was of no use to the Count then, and his own men in the chateau +were not well inclined toward me. They were for giving up the place, the +moment he was dead. I thought best to save my good fellows for better +service elsewhere."</p> + +<p>"Then your company and the band of robbers in this forest are the same?"</p> + +<p>"If you call them robbers,—they forage when there is need. I did not +have them all at the chateau. The good fellows who brought you here were +not at Lavardin with me. It is well, when one is in a place, to have +resources outside. And so we meet again, my young interloper! You were +rude to me once or twice at Lavardin. I shall pay you for that, and +settle scores on behalf of my friend the Count as well."</p> + +<p>"How much ransom do you want?" I asked bluntly. "Name a sum within +possibility, and let me go for it immediately: you know well you can +rely upon my honour to deliver it promptly at any place safe for both of +us, and to keep all a secret."</p> + +<p>"Do not insult me again. I have told you I am above purchase."</p> + +<p>Despite his jesting tone, my hope began to fall.</p> + +<p>"You are not above prudence, at least," I said. "I assure you there are +people who will move earth and heaven to find what has become of me, and +whose powers of vengeance are not light."</p> + +<p>"If I went in fear of vengeance, my child, I should never pass an easy +moment. I have learned how to evade it,—or, better still, to turn it +back on those who would inflict it. I fear nobody. When the game is not +worth the risk, one can always run away, as I did from Lavardin when the +Count's death threw his men into a panic."</p> + +<p>"Good God!" I cried, giving way to my feelings; "what will move you, +then? What do you wish me to do? Shall I humiliate myself to plead for +my life? shall I beg mercy? If I must descend to that, I will do so."</p> + +<p>For you will remember another life than mine was staked upon my fate, +and time was flying. How long could she endure without food, without +drink, without renewal of air, in that locked-up place of darkness?</p> + +<p>"Mercy, I beg," I cried, in a voice broken by fears for her.</p> + +<p>"You have hit upon the right way, at last," said the Captain, and my +heart bounded in spite of his continued irony of voice and manner. "You +beg for mercy, you shall have it. I will give you your life, and your +liberty as well: on your part, you will tell me where the Countess de +Lavardin is; as soon as I have made sure you have told the truth, I will +set you free."</p> + +<p>I gazed at him in silence.</p> + +<p>"Is not that merciful?" said he; "a full pardon for all your affronts +and offences, in return for a trifling piece of information?"</p> + +<p>"It is a piece of information I cannot give you," I replied.</p> + +<p>"It is a waste of time and words to try to deceive me," said the red +Captain. "A young gentleman who risks so much for a lady as you have +done, and accomplishes so much for her,—yes, they were wonders of +prowess and courage, I admit, and I compliment you upon them,—a young +gentleman who does all that for a lady does not so soon lose knowledge +of her whereabouts. Do not trifle with me, Monsieur. Where is the +Countess? There is no other way by which you can save yourself."</p> + +<p>"Do you think, then, a man who has shown the courage and prowess you +mention, for the sake of a lady, would save himself by betraying her?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you are young, and may have many years before you—a life of great +success and honour. There are other beautiful ladies in the world. In a +very short time you can forget this one."</p> + +<p>"I think it is for you to forget her," said I on the impulse. "As for +me, I would rather die!"</p> + +<p>Ah, yes, it was easy enough to die, if that were all: but to leave her +to die, and in such a manner, was another thing. Yet I knew she would +prefer death, in its worst form, to falling into the unrestrained hands +of the red Captain. The man's eyes, from the moment when he introduced +her name, betrayed the eagerness of his new hope to make himself her +master,—though he still controlled his speech. I say his new hope, for +it must have arisen upon the death of the Count, during whose life, not +daring openly to play the rival, he had found his only satisfaction in a +revenge which provided that none might have what was denied to him. It +was for me to decide now whether she should die or find herself at the +mercy of Captain Ferragant. Was it right that I should decide for her as +she would decide for herself? Was it for me to consign her to death, +though I was certain that would be her own choice? Even though the +Captain found her, was not life, with its possible chance of future +escape, of her being able to move him by tears and innocence, of some +friendly interposition of fate, preferable to the sure alternative doom?</p> + +<p>"I will leave you to make up your mind quietly," said the Captain. "When +you are ready to speak to the point, call to the men in the +passage,—one of them will come to me. The door will be left open. I +hope you will not be slow in choosing the sensible course: I cannot give +you many hours for consideration."</p> + +<p>He went out, addressed some orders to four or five men who sat on a +bench facing my door, and disappeared: I heard his feet descending the +stairs. My door was left wide open, so that I was directly in the gaze +of the men. But even if I had been unobserved, I could not have moved +from the place where I sat. Any effort to break my bonds, either of +wrist or ankle, by sheer strength, was but to cause weakness and pain. +My arms ached from the constraint of their position, and, because of +them behind me, it was impossible to lie at full length on my back. Nor +would the chain, without cutting into my thighs, permit me to lie on +either side. I was thus unable to change even my attitude.</p> + +<p>But my discomforts of body were nothing in presence of the question that +tore my mind. Minutes passed; time stretched into hours: still I +discussed with myself, to which of the fates at my choice should I +deliver her? Should I give her to death, or to the arms of the red +Captain? Little as she feared the first, much as she loathed the second, +dared I take it upon myself to assign her to death? Had it been mere +death, without the horrors of darkness and desertion, without the +anxious wonder as to why I failed her, I should not have been long in +deciding upon that. For that would be her wish, and I should not survive +her. Let us both die, I should have said; for what will life be to her +after she has fallen into the hands of this villain, and what to me +after I have delivered her into them? But the peculiar misery of the +death that threatened her, kept the problem still busy in my mind.</p> + +<p>And yet I could not bring myself to yield her to the Captain.</p> + +<p>The day had become afternoon, and I still debated. The Countess must +have expected me to return before this time. What was her state now? +what were her conjectures? Ah, thought I, if we had not found our way to +that lonely tower, if the storm had not come up the previous night, if +we had started to leave the forest earlier!—nay, if I had had the +prevision, upon hearing of the presence of robbers, to make her turn +back to Chateaudun with me, and lodge quietly there until the Mother +Superior of the convent could be sounded, and a safe way of approach be +ascertained, all would now be well. We should have heard in the meantime +of the Count's death. Yes, everything had gone wrong since the Countess +had taken the road for the forest. The third of Blaise Tripault's maxims +which he had learned from the monk came back to me with all the force of +hapless coincidence:</p> + +<p>"<i>Never leave a highway for a byway.</i>"</p> + +<p>The thought of Blaise Tripault made me think of my father. What a +mockery it was to know that I, chained helpless to the floor in this +remote stronghold of ruffians, was the son of him, the Sieur de la +Tournoire, the invincible warrior before whose sword no man could stay, +and who would have rushed to the world's end to save me or any one I +loved! To consider my need, and his power to help, and that only his +ignorance of my situation stood between, was so vexing that in my +bitterness of soul, regardless of the men in the passage, I cried out to +the empty air, "Oh, my father! If you but knew!"</p> + +<p>And then, for a moment, as if the bare wall were no impediment, I saw a +vision of my father, with his dauntless brow and grizzled beard, his +great long sword at his side, riding toward me among green trees.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> + +<h3>THE SWORD OF LA TOURNOIRE</h3> + + +<p>The light softened and faded into that of evening. Another set of men +took the places of those outside my door. No food nor drink was brought +me, and I supposed the Captain hoped by this neglect to reduce me the +sooner to a yielding state. But I was even glad to have to undergo some +of the discomforts which the Countess must needs be enduring. I gave up +hope of her life or my own, and, leaning forward so as to get some +relief of position, I fell into a kind of drowsy lassitude.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, through my window, which overlooked the court-yard, I heard a +low call at the gate, which was answered. Presently I heard the gate +close, and assumed it had been opened to let in the man who had uttered +the call. About a minute after that, there was a considerable noise in +the yard, as of men hastily assembling. Then came the voice of the +Captain, apparently addressing the whole company. When he finished, +there was a general movement of feet, as of men dispersing about the +yard, and this was followed by complete silence.</p> + +<p>The men in the passage were now joined by a comrade, who spoke to them +rapidly in a low tone. They whispered to one another in some excitement, +but did not leave their places nor take their eyes from me.</p> + +<p>The next sound I heard was of the tread of horses approaching. My +curiosity now aroused, I strained my ears. The hoof-beats came to the +gate, and then I heard a loud knock, followed by no other sound than of +the pawing and snorting of the horses as they stood. There must have +been at least a score of them.</p> + +<p>Presently the unheeded knock was repeated, and then a quick, virile +voice called out:</p> + +<p>"Hola, within there! Open the gate, in the name of the King!"</p> + +<p>My heart leaped. The voice was that of the royal guardsman who had saved +the Countess from the robbers the previous evening. But his party was +now evidently much larger than before.</p> + +<p>No answer was given to his demand. The red Captain's intent apparently +was to make these newcomers believe the place deserted. I had an impulse +to shout the truth, but I saw my guards watching me, their hands on +their weapons, and knew that my first word would be the signal for my +death. So I kept silence.</p> + +<p>"If you do not open the gate at once," the guardsman cried, "we will +open it for ourselves, in our own way."</p> + +<p>I now heard footsteps shuffling across the yard, and then one of the +robbers spoke, in the quavering tones of an old man:</p> + +<p>"Pardon, Monsieur. Pardon, I pray, but it is impossible for me to open. +I am all alone here in charge of this place, which is empty and +deserted, and I'm forbidden to open the gate to anybody but the master. +He would kill me if I disobeyed, and besides that, I have taken a vow. +There is nothing here that you can want, Monsieur."</p> + +<p>"There is shelter for the night to be had here, and that we mean to +have. We are on the business of the King, and I command you to open."</p> + +<p>"I dare not, Monsieur. I should imperil my life and my soul. There is a +lodge in the forest a mile to the east, and the keeper will see to all +your wants: there is plenty of shelter, food for yourselves, hay for +your horses, everything you can need. Here all is dismantled and empty."</p> + +<p>"Old man, you are lying. Unbar the gate in a moment, or your life will +indeed be in danger."</p> + +<p>To this the "old man" gave no answer, except to come away from the gate +with the same simulated walk of an aged person.</p> + +<p>I heard the horsemen discussing in low tones. Then, to my dismay, came +the sound of hoofs again, this time moving away. Now I was more than +ever minded to cry out, but my guards were ready to spring upon me with +their daggers. I might have sought this speedy death, but for the sudden +thought that the withdrawal of the royal guardsmen might be only +temporary.</p> + +<p>I know not how many minutes passed. The sound of the horses had died out +for some time. I became sensible of the tramp of men's feet. Were the +guardsmen returning without their horses? Suddenly the red Captain's +voice arose in the court-yard:</p> + +<p>"To the walls, you with firearms! Shoot them down as they try to batter +in the gate! All the rest, stand with me to kill them if they enter!"</p> + +<p>The tramp of the guardsmen came swiftly near. I heard the reports of +muskets and pistols. There was a loud thud, as of some sort of ram—a +fallen branch or trunk from the forest—being borne powerfully against +the gate. This was answered by defiant, profane shouts and more loud +detonations. My guards in the passage groaned, exclaimed, and clenched +their weapons, mad to be in the fray. I could only listen and wait.</p> + +<p>There was a second thud against the gate, amidst more cries and shots. +And soon came a third, the sound being this time prolonged into a crash +of timber. A shout of triumph from the invaders, a yell of execration +from the red Captain and his men, and the clash of steel, told that the +gate had given way.</p> + +<p>"Follow close, gentlemen! Trust me to clear a path!" cried a hearty +voice, cheerful to the point of mirth, which thrilled my soul.</p> + +<p>"Ay, follow him close!" cried the leader of the guardsmen; "follow the +sword of La Tournoire!"</p> + +<p>I could have shouted for joy, but that it was now worth while postponing +death by minutes.</p> + +<p>The noise of clashing swords increased and came nearer, as if the +guardsmen were pouring in through the gateway and driving the defenders +back toward the house. Now and then came the sound of a pike or reversed +musket meeting steel armour, and all the time fierce exclamations rose +from both parties. There was no more firing; doubtless the melee was too +close and general for anybody to reload.</p> + +<p>The men in the passage, as the tumult grew and approached, became as +restless as dogs in leash that whine and jump to be in the fray. At last +one of them ran into my room and looked out of the window.</p> + +<p>"Death of the devil, how they are at it!" he cried, for the information +of his comrades outside my door. "I think we shall be wanted in a minute +or two. These cursed intruders have forced the gateway. Our fellows are +twice as many as they, but their heads and bodies are in steel,—all but +one, a middle-aged man with gray in his beard. He has no armour on, but +he leads the others. Body of Satan! you should see him clear the ground +about him. He thrusts in all directions at once: his sword is as long as +a man, and it darts as quickly as the tongue of a snake. Ha! it has just +cut down old Cricharde.—And now it has stung Galparoux.—Holy +Beelzebub, what a man! He fights like a fiend, and all the time with a +gay face as if he were at his sport.—Ah! there he has let daylight into +poor Boirac.—But now—good!—at last our Captain has planted himself in +front of this devil: it was high time: he will find his match now. By +God, it will be worth looking at, the fight between the red Captain and +this stranger,—there aren't two such men in France. They are taking +each other's measure now,—each one sees what sort of stuff he has run +against. Ah!"</p> + +<p>What the last exclamation meant, I could not know. The man's attention +had become too close for further speech. But I supposed that a pass had +been made between my father and the red Captain, and that it had been +nothing decisive, for the watcher's interest continued at the extreme +tension: he kept his face against the iron bars of the window, and made +no sound beyond frequent short ejaculations. The men in the passage +called to him for further news, but he did not heed them. To my ears the +fighting continued as general as before, with the shouts of many throats +and the clash of many weapons, so that I could not at all distinguish +the single combat between my father and the red Captain from the rest of +the fray.</p> + +<p>Presently the man gave a howl of rage. "Our Captain is being forced +back!" he cried. "We are getting the worst of the fight everywhere. It's +too much!—we are needed down there! To the devil with orders!—the +Captain will be glad enough if we turn the tide. And we'd better try our +luck down there than be taken here, for short time they'll give us for +prayers, my children." While speaking he had moved from the window to my +door.</p> + +<p>"Certainly this prisoner is safe enough," answered one of the men, +whereupon he and the others in the passage ran down the stairs.</p> + +<p>But the man who had been at the window turned to me. "Safe enough,—yes, +so it looks," said he. "Young man, the Captain must think you a +magician, to take so much pains against your escaping. If it came to the +worst, I was to kill you, and the time seems to have arrived: so, if +you'll pardon me—"</p> + +<p>"You will be a great fool," said I, as he approached with his sword +drawn; "for if you are taken alive my intervention will save your neck."</p> + +<p>"How do you know it will?"</p> + +<p>"By the fact that the gentleman down there whose fighting you so admire +is my father."</p> + +<p>"Indeed? You are a gentleman: do you give your word of honour for that?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; and to speak for you if I am alive when your side is finally +defeated."</p> + +<p>"Very good, Monsieur. I will hold you to that." Upon this he left me and +followed his comrades down the stairs.</p> + +<p>His footfalls had scarcely ceased upon the stairway, when other sounds +began to come from the same direction,—those of conflict in the +entrance hall below. Somebody had drawn his antagonist, or been forced +by him, into the house. There was the quick, irregular stamp of booted +feet on the stone floor, the keen music of sword striking sword. If the +fight spread generally into the house, and the defenders fled to the +upper rooms, my position must become more critical. So I listened rather +to this noise in the hallway than to the tumult in the court-yard. By +the sound of the steel coming nearer, and that of the footfalls changing +somewhat, I presently knew that one of the fighters had sought the +vantage—or disadvantage—of the staircase. But the other evidently +pushed him hard, for soon both combatants had reached the landing at the +turn of the stairs, as was manifest from a sudden increase of their +noise in my ears. I could now hear their short ejaculations as well as +the other sounds. They continued to approach: I listened for a stumble +on the stairs, to be followed by a death-cry: but these men were +apparently heedful as to their steps, and finally they were both upon +the level footing of the passage outside my room. I wondered if this +fight would be over before it could be opposite my doorway. In a few +moments I was answered. Into my narrow view came the large figure of the +red Captain, without a doublet, his muscular arms bare, his shirt open +and soaked with perspiration, his upper body heaving rapidly as he +breathed, his face streaming, his eyes fixed upon the enemy whose swift +rapier he parried with wonderful skill. The light of evening was dim in +the passage, and perhaps for that reason the Captain backed into my +room. His adversary followed instantly.</p> + +<p>"Father!" I cried, as the Sieur de la Tournoire appeared in the doorway: +in my emotion I thought not how I endangered him by distracting his +attention.</p> + +<p>But he was not to be thrown off his guard. He moved his head a little to +the side, so as to catch a glimpse of me behind the Captain, but this +did not prevent his adroitly turning a quick thrust which his enemy made +on the instant of my cry.</p> + +<p>"Hola, Henri!" said my father, with perfect calmness except for his +quickness of breath. "What the devil are you doing here?"</p> + +<p>"Sitting chained to the floor," I replied.</p> + +<p>At this the Captain suddenly leaped back almost to where I was, and I +suppose his intention was to place himself eventually where he would +have me between him and my father and could kill me without ceasing to +face the latter. But he may have considered an attempt to pass over me +as unsafe for his subsequent footing, and so his next movement was +sidewise: my father, following close, gave him work every moment. The +Captain again stepping backward, I was now at his right and a little in +front, so that, if he could gain but a spare second, he could send a +finishing thrust my way. With my head turned so as to keep my eyes upon +him, I could see by his look that he was determined not to risk my +outliving him.</p> + +<p>My father, too busy in meeting the Captain's lunges, and in trying what +thrust might elude his defence, thought best to expend no more breath in +talk with me, and so the fighting went on without words. Suppose, +thought I, my father kills the Captain but the Captain first kills me? +Had I not better now tell my father to seek the Tower of Morlon and +release a person confined there? But if I did that, the Captain would +hear, and suppose he killed my father as well as me! I held my tongue.</p> + +<p>The Captain now maintained his position, neither giving ground nor +pressing forward. The two combatants were between me and the window, +through which still came sounds of struggle from the yard below. But +these sounds were fewer, except those of cheers, which grew more +frequent.</p> + +<p>"Good! Our friends are gaining the day!" said my father to me.</p> + +<p>"But you, Messieurs, shall not crow over it!" cried the Captain, and +made a long thrust, as swift as lightning. My father caught it on the +guard of his hilt, within short distance of his breast, at the same +instant stepping back. The Captain did not follow, but darted his sword +at me, with the cry, "Not for you the Countess!" I contracted my body +and thought myself done for. My father's impulsive forward movement, +however, disconcerted the Captain's arm in the very moment of his lunge, +and his point but feebly stung my side and flew back again, his guard +recovered none too soon to save himself. My father's thrusts became now +so quick and continuous that the Captain fell back to gain breath. My +father drove him to the wall. Shouting a curse, the Captain thrust for +my father's midriff. My father, with a swift movement, received the +sword between his arm and body, and at the same instant ran his own +rapier into the Captain's unguarded front, pushed it through his lung, +and pinned him to the wall.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus6" id="illus6"></a> +<img src="images/illus6.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"MY FATHER'S THRUSTS BECAME NOW SO QUICK AND CONTINUOUS."</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>The Captain's arms dropped, his head hung forward, and as soon as the +sword was drawn out, he tumbled lifeless to the floor.</p> + +<p>My father leaned against the wall till he regained a little breath and +energy; then he wiped his brow and sword, and came over to me.</p> + +<p>"How have they got you trussed up?" he asked. "And how came you into +their hands?—I should be amazed to find you here, if I hadn't seen +stranger things before now."</p> + +<p>While he cut the cords that bound my ankles and wrists, I told him how I +had been waylaid. "I was going with food and wine to a friend who lies +locked in a deserted tower called Morlon. She is ill to death, and may +now be dead for lack of food and air to keep up her strength. I must go +to her—"</p> + +<p>"A woman, then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a lady: I will tell you all, but there is no time to lose now. The +tower is in this forest. I must find my way there at once."</p> + +<p>"Patience, a moment," said my father. "Your chain is locked, I see:—but +no matter,—I can loosen it so that you can wriggle through." By having +cut the cords, around which the chain had been passed, he had relieved +the tautness, and was now able to do what he promised. He then took off +my boots, and, grasping me under the arms, drew me backward out of the +loosened coils as I moved them downward with my hands. At last I stood a +free man. I put on my boots, took the Captain's sword, and accompanied +my father down into the court-yard.</p> + +<p>The fight was now over there. Of the royal guardsmen, all in steel caps +and corselets, like the small party of them I had seen the previous +evening, some were wiping their faces and swords, and others were caring +for the hurts of comrades. Some of the robbers lay dead, several were +wounded, and the rest, having yielded their weapons, were looking after +their own disabled, under the direction of guardsmen. I recognized a +number of the rascals as men I had seen at the Chateau de Lavardin. The +commander of the troop of guards, he whom I had met before and whose +vigorous voice I had recognized, greeted my father with a look of +congratulation, and showed surprise at seeing me.</p> + +<p>"Tis a day of events," said my father. "I have killed the Count's +accomplice, and found my son.—Nay, there was no hope of that Captain's +surrendering."</p> + +<p>"My faith!—then your two quests are accomplished at the same moment," +said the leader of the guardsmen. "And, for another wonder, your son +turns out to be a person I have already met. But your friend, Monsieur?" +This inquiry was to me, and made with sudden solicitude.</p> + +<p>"Locked in the tower of Morlon, waiting for me to come with +food,—perhaps dying or dead.—Monsieur, I was brought here blindfold: +but I must find the way back to the tower of Morlon without delay,—it +is somewhere in this forest."</p> + +<p>"No doubt some of these gentry know the way," said the guardsman, +indicating the robbers. "We'll make it a condition of his life for one +of them to guide us."</p> + +<p>"You make me your life-long debtor, Monsieur," I cried. "And one of them +has the key: I think it is he lying yonder. As for food and wine—"</p> + +<p>"We are not without those," said the guardsman. "Our horses and supplies +are near at hand."</p> + +<p>I went among the dead and wounded to find the man who had taken +possession of my keys. Him I found, but the keys were not upon him. +Supposing he had given them to his master, I ran upstairs and examined +the pockets of the Captain, but in vain. Where to look next I knew not, +so I returned to the court-yard and made known my unsuccess.</p> + +<p>"Tut!" said my father; "a door is but a door, and we can break down that +of your tower as we broke down this gate. This gentleman"—meaning the +leader of the guardsmen—"has most courteously offered to accompany us, +with part of his noble troop, and he has chosen a guide from among the +prisoners."</p> + +<p>"Ay, they all know the tower," said the guardsman, "but this fellow +appears the most sensible.—Now, my man, how long will it take us, your +comrades bearing the pine trunk with which we rammed this gate, to reach +the tower of Morlon?"</p> + +<p>"Two hours, Monsieur, I should say," replied the robber.</p> + +<p>"It is too much," said the guardsman. "You will lead us thither in an +hour at the utmost, or at the end of the hour you shall hang to the tree +I then happen to be under." He thereupon gave orders to the guardsmen, +and to the prisoners. As night would overtake us in the forest, he had a +brief search made of the outhouses, and a number of dry pine sticks were +found, to serve as torches. Our party was to go mounted, except the +robbers impressed to carry the battering ram: so I went to the stalls at +one side of the yard, and found my own horse, chewing hay in fraternal +companionship with the animals which had doubtless brought Captain +Ferragant and his men from Lavardin.</p> + +<p>As I led out my horse, I suddenly bethought me of the man for whose life +I had promised to speak. During the final preparations for our start, I +looked again among the robbers, wondering why this man had not forced +himself upon my attention. But I soon found the reason: he lay on his +side, and when I turned him over I saw he was pierced between two ribs +and had no life left to plead for.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> + +<h3>THE MOUSTACHES OF BRIGNAN DE BRIGNAN</h3> + + +<p>My father, the leader of the guardsmen, and several of his men walked, +while I rode, to the nearby edge of encircling woods, the defeated +robbers bearing the young tree-trunk. Here my father and the guardsmen +mounted, their horses having been tied to the trees. A pair of panniers +containing wine, bread, and cold meat, was placed across my father's +horse, a very strong animal, and, torches being lighted, we proceeded +through the forest. The guide led, being attached to a halter, of which +the commander of the guardsmen held the loose end. After the commander, +my father and I came, and behind us the burdened prisoners, who were +flanked and followed by the other guardsmen.</p> + +<p>On the way, I told my father who it was that lay in the tower, and gave +him a brief account of my whole adventure at Lavardin and in the forest. +He applauded my conduct, though counselling me in future to look well +before I leaped; and he approved of my offer to the Countess of the +hospitality of La Tournoire.</p> + +<p>"But what still makes me wonder," said I, "is that you should have found +me here, so far from Paris, whither you knew I was bound, and from +Vendome, whither Nicolas must have told you I was going."</p> + +<p>"But in truth my being here is very simple," said he. "As soon as +Nicolas came back to La Tournoire with your message the day after you +set out, I started for Paris to solicit your pardon for the affair at La +Flèche. Six days later I presented myself to the Duke de Sully, who +immediately took me for an audience of the King. There was a deal of +talk about the scandalous disregard of the edict against duels, the +great quantity of good blood wasted almost every day, the too frequent +granting of pardons, and all that. But in the end Henri would not refuse +me, and I have your pardon now in my pocket. But you must not be rash +another time: I promised for you, and assured the King you were no +fire-eater and had received great provocation."</p> + +<p>"Trust me to be prudent," said I.</p> + +<p>"Good! As you had not yet arrived in Paris," continued my father, "I +supposed you had been delayed at Vendome, whither, as you say, Nicolas +told me you were going. So I thought I would start for home by way of +Vendome, as you might still be there and perhaps in some scrape or +other, or I might meet you on the road between there and Paris. I stayed +overnight in Paris, as the Duke had invited me to wait upon him the next +day. I went and was very well received. As I was about to take my leave, +I mentioned that I was going to travel by Vendome. 'Ah,' said the Duke, +'then, if you wish, you may take a hand in a little affair which will be +like an echo of the old busy days.' I opened my eyes at this, and the +Duke told me that evidence had just been brought by one of his spies, +which warranted the arrest of a powerful malcontent in the neighbourhood +of Vendome, who had long been under suspicion,—in short, the Count de +Lavardin. A party of royal guards was about to be sent off at once to +take him in his chateau at Montoire, four leagues beyond Vendome, and I +might go with them as a volunteer, or in any case I might have their +company on my journey. I was quite ready for any affair that had a taste +of the old service in it, especially as these treasonable great lords +sometimes make a stout resistance in their chateaux. And so I had the +honour of being introduced to these gentlemen and becoming for the time +their comrade. That same afternoon I set out with them for Montoire, and +we arrived there last Sunday."</p> + +<p>"Ah! you must have passed through Vendome while we were in seclusion +there."</p> + +<p>"No doubt. That Count's business had to be attended to before he got +wind of our arrival, and so there was no time for inquiring about you at +Vendome. We came upon the Count and a party of attendants in the road, +not a quarter of a league from his chateau. As we heard at the chateau +afterwards, he had been searching the roads far and wide for his wife, +who had fled from his cruelties. He had the daring to resist arrest, and +there was some fighting, in which he was killed. It appears that the +fight and his fall were seen by watchers from the tower of his chateau, +and before we could arrive at that place his accomplice, this Captain +Ferragant, who was in the chateau at the time, made his escape. As soon +as we got to the chateau, we heard of this, and, as the Captain also was +wanted, there was nothing to do but give chase. A few of the guardsmen +were left to hold the chateau in the King's name, and the rest of us, +with no more than a sup and a bite, made off after this Captain. He had +so many followers with him, that he was not difficult to trace, and for +two days we kept his track, until we lost it at the edge of this forest. +From what we learned at Chateaudun, we guessed that his refuge was +somewhere in the forest. That was yesterday afternoon: we at once broke +up into small parties to search the forest, planning to reunite at a +chosen place to-day at noon."</p> + +<p>"It was one of those parties that saved the Countess from the robbers," +said I gratefully.</p> + +<p>"Ay, and there your story crosses mine. As for the ruffians who attacked +the Countess, they escaped without affording a clue to the Captain's +whereabouts,—for doubtless they were of his band, though this was not +certain. When our parties met to-day, one of them brought a forester who +offered to show the way to the Captain's hiding-place if he were allowed +to leave before coming in sight of it. We made full preparations, and +you know the rest. At first we thought our forester had fooled us, and +that the place we had come to was what it appeared, a solitary farmstead +in a clearing of the forest. But in such a case, it is always best to +make sure, and faith, that is what we did. So you see I chanced to find +you all the sooner for not having had time to look for you. But indeed +it was a timely meeting."</p> + +<p>In about an hour after the time of starting, we came to a clear space, +in the midst of which was the tower we sought. We could see it by the +starlight before we drew near with our torches. We all dismounted, and +with a fast-beating heart, I found the door. It was still locked. +Listening at the key-hole, I could hear no sound. I called out, "Louis!" +thinking she would understand I had company to whom her sex need not be +known. I wished to warn her of our assault upon the door, so that she +might stay clear of danger thereby. But no answer came, though I called +several times. I was now in great fear lest she had died. My father, who +read my feelings in my face, suggested that she might have fallen into +very deep unconsciousness, and that the best thing to do was to break in +the door forthwith, as carefully as possible, trusting she might not be +where there was chance of anything striking. As the place where I had +left her lying was not opposite the door, and there was no reason to +suppose she had chosen another, I gave up the attempt to warn her, and +without further loss of time we made ready to attack the door. All the +men in the party, both guardsmen and prisoners, laid hold of the +tree-trunk, by means of halters and ropes fastened around it, my father +and I placing ourselves at the head. The commander of the guardsmen, who +was immediately behind me, called out the orders by which we moved in +unison. Starting from a short distance, we ran straight for the tower, +and swung the tree forward against the door at the moment of stopping. A +most violent shock was produced, but the lock and hinges still held. We +repeated this operation twice. Upon our third charge, the door flew +inward. Leaving the trunk to the others, I hastened into the dark, close +basement, and groped my way to where I had left the Countess.</p> + +<p>"Madame!—Louis!" I called softly, feeling about in the darkness.</p> + +<p>A weak voice answered,—a voice like that of one just wakened from +profound sleep:</p> + +<p>"Henri, is it you?—Mon dieu, I am so glad!—I feared some evil had +befallen you."</p> + +<p>"Ah, Louis, you are living,—thank God!"</p> + +<p>"Living, yes: I have been asleep. Once I awoke, and wondered why you bad +not returned. I prayed for you, and then I must have slept again. But +what was it awakened me?—was there not a loud noise before I heard your +voice?—Who are those men at the door with torches?"</p> + +<p>I introduced my father, who, regarding her in the torchlight, and +showing as tender a solicitude as a woman's, soon came to the conclusion +that her state was no worse than one of extreme weakness for want of +food and fresh air. He carried her out, laid her tenderly on a cloak, +and administered such food and wine as were good for her. She submitted +with the docility and trust of a child.</p> + +<p>Leaving her for awhile, my father and I consulted with the leader of the +guardsmen, and it was decided that the Countess, my father, and I should +pass the night at the tower, the weather being warm and clear. The +guardsmen would return with their prisoners to the scene of their recent +battle, where much was to be put to rights. On the morrow they would +rejoin us, and we should all proceed to Bonneval, where my father's +deposition could be added to the report which the leader of the +arresting party would have to deliver in Paris in lieu of the Count and +Captain themselves.</p> + +<p>I could not let the leader go, even for the night, without expressing +the gratitude under which I must ever feel to him, for, though he was +still ignorant of the identity of the Countess, there was no concealing +from him that the supposed youth was a person very near my heart.</p> + +<p>"Pouf!" said he, in his manly way; "'tis all chance. I have done nothing +for you, but if I had done much I should have been repaid already in the +acquaintance of Monsieur de la Tournoire."</p> + +<p>"A truce to flattery," said my father. "It is I who am the gainer by the +acquaintance of Monsieur Brignan de Brignan."</p> + +<p>"Eh! Brignan de Brignan!" I echoed.</p> + +<p>"That is this gentleman's name," said my father, wondering at my +surprise. "Have we been so busy that I have not properly made you known +to him before?"</p> + +<p>I gazed at the gentleman's moustaches: they were indeed rather longer +than the ordinary. He, too, looked his astonishment at the effect of his +name upon me.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, Monsieur," said I. "I have been staring like a rustic. I owe +you an explanation of my ill manners. I will give it frankly: it may +provide you with laughter. What I am now, I know not, but three weeks +ago I was a fool." I then told him how I had been taunted by a young +lady, whose name I did not mention, and with what particular object I +had so recently started for Paris. This was news to my father also, who +laughed without restraint. Brignan de Brignan, though certainly amused, +kept his mirth within bounds, and replied:</p> + +<p>"Faith. I know not any young lady in your part of France who has a right +to glory in my personal appearance, even if I were an Apollo,—who, by +the way, is not represented with moustaches. But I believe I know who +this girl may be,—I have met such a one in Paris, and avoided her as a +pert little minx. As for your folly, as you call it, it was no more +foolish than many a thing I have done."</p> + +<p>He had the breeding not to add, "At your age," and I loved him for that. +He and his men now set out upon their return to the farmstead, and my +father and I, after devising a more comfortable couch for the Countess +just within the open doorway of the tower, slept and watched by turns +outside.</p> + +<p>In the morning the Countess, partaking of more food, was in better +strength and spirits, and had the curiosity to ask how my father came to +be there. In telling her, I broke the news of the Count's death. For a +moment she was startled, and then pity showed itself in her eyes and +words,—pity for the man who had been swayed by such passions and +delusions, and who had died in his sin with none else to shed a tear for +him. The Captain's death, of which I next informed her, did not move her +as much.</p> + +<p>The turn of affairs caused a change of plan. She now resolved (as I had +foreseen) to return to Lavardin and do such honour to her husband's +memory as she might. Though his estates would probably, in all the +circumstances, be adjudged forfeit to the Crown, some provision would +doubtless be made for his widow. In any case, she might be sure of every +courtesy from the officer in command of the guardsmen now occupying the +chateau for the King, and there were certain jewels, apparel, and other +possessions of her own which could not be withheld from her.</p> + +<p>In the afternoon, when Brignan de Brignan and his comrades reappeared, +the Countess was able to ride: and that evening we were all in Bonneval. +Monsieur de Brignan had taken possession of several things found in an +iron-bound chest where Captain Ferragant had kept his treasures. Among +others were two papers stolen from me by the robbers,—the incriminating +fragment of a letter to the Count, and the note from the Countess which +I had found upon Monsieur de Merri. The former I destroyed, at the fire +in the inn kitchen: the latter I kept, and keep to this day. Besides +these, there were my purse; a quantity of gold, out of which I repaid +myself the amount I had been robbed of; and the two keys, which I +subsequently restored to the Chateau de Lavardin, whence they had come.</p> + +<p>We stayed the night at Bonneval. The next day the guardsmen started for +Paris, and our party of three for Montoire. As I took my leave of +Brignan de Brignan before the inn gate, I noticed that his moustaches +had undergone a diminution: indeed they now extended no further than his +lips. I supposed he had decided not to be distinguished by such marks +again. He expressed a hope of renewing acquaintance with me in Paris, +and rode off. The Countess, my father, and I turned our faces toward +Montoire, the Countess being now once more on Hugues's horse, which I +had left for a time at Bonneval. We had not gone very far, when a man +galloped after us, handed me a packet, and rode back as hastily as he +had come. I had scarce time to recognize him as a valet attached to the +party of guardsmen.</p> + +<p>I opened the packet, and found a piece of paper, to which two wisps of +hair were fastened by a thread, and on which was written in a large, +dashing hand:</p> + +<p>"<i>Behold my moustaches. Brignan de Brignan.</i>"</p> + +<p>And so, after all, I might keep my promise to Mlle. Celeste!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> + +<h3>AFTERWARDS</h3> + + +<p>Two days later we arrived at Hugues's house, and were received with +great joy by him and Mathilde. Here the Countess, now happily improved +in health, resumed the attire of her sex, which she had there put off. +My father then accompanied her to the Chateau de Lavardin, and made her +known to the guardsman in command, by whom she was treated with the +utmost consideration. With Mathilde to attend her, she remained a few +days at the chateau, and then removed with her personal possessions to +the house of Hugues, whose marriage to Mathilde was no longer delayed.</p> + +<p>But meanwhile my father and I stayed only a day at Montoire, lodging at +the inn there. I did not go to the chateau, but my father took thither +the two keys, and brought away my sword and dagger, which had been +hanging undisturbed in the hall. My farewell to the Countess was spoken +in front of Hugues's gate when she started thence for the chateau, and +not much was said, for my father and Hugues were there, as well as +Mathilde, and the horses were waiting. But something was looked, and +never did I cease to carry in my heart the tender and solicitous +expression of her sweet eyes as they rested on me for a silent moment +ere she turned away.</p> + +<p>My father and I, on our homeward journey, stopped at La Flèche and +ascertained that Monsieur de Merri's relations had learned of his fate +and taken all care for the repose of his body and soul. It appeared that +he lived at Orleans, and was used to visit cousins in Brittany: thus, +then, had he chanced to stop at Montoire and fall in with the Count de +Lavardin. Alas! poor young gentleman!</p> + +<p>And now we arrived home, to the great relief of my mother; and Blaise +Tripault would hardly speak to my father or me, for envy of the +adventures we had passed through without him. But he spread great +reports of what I had done,—or rather what I had not done, for he made +me a chief hero in the destruction of the band of robbers. But this +unmerited fame scarcely annoyed me at all, for my thoughts were +elsewhere, and I was restless and melancholy. In a few days I resolved +to go to Paris,—by way of Montoire. But before I started, I took a walk +one fine afternoon along the stream that bounded our estate: and, as I +had expected, there was Mlle. Celeste on the other side, with her drowsy +old guardian. She blushed and looked embarrassed, and I wondered why I +had ever thought her charming. Her self-confidence returned in a moment, +and she greeted me with her old sauciness, though it seemed a trifle +forced:</p> + +<p>"Ah, Monsieur, so you have come back without going to Paris after all, I +hear."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mademoiselle," I answered coldly. "But I have taken your advice +and looked a little into the eyes of danger; and I find it does make a +difference in one."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes: I believe you fought a duel, and were present when some +highway robbers were taken; and now you have come back to rest on your +laurels."</p> + +<p>"No; I came back to give you these, as I promised." And I threw her the +packet containing the moustaches of Brignan de Brignan. She opened it, +and regarded the contents with amazement. I laughed.</p> + +<p>She looked at me now with real wonder, and I perceived I had grown +several inches in her estimation.</p> + +<p>"But don't think I took them against his will," said I. "I admit I never +could have done that. He gave me them in jest, and the proudest claim I +can make in regard to him is that he honours me with his friendship. +Good day, Mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>I came away, leaving her surprised and discomfited, for which I was not +sorry. She had expected to find me still her slave, and to expend her +pertness on me as before: though she might have known that if danger +would make a man of me, it would give me a man's eyes to see the +difference between a real woman and a scornful miss.</p> + +<p>I went to Paris, careful this time to avoid conflict with bold-speaking +young gentlemen at inns; and on the way I had one precious hour at +Hugues's house, wherein—upon his marriage to Mathilde—the Countess had +established herself, to the wonder of all who heard of it. She continued +to lodge there, her affairs turning out so that she was able to repay +Hugues liberally. She occupied herself in good works for the poor about +Montoire, and so two years passed, each day making her happier and more +beautiful. Many times I went between La Tournoire and Paris,—always by +way of Montoire. In Paris I saw much of Brignan de Brignan, whose +moustaches had soon grown back to their old magnitude. And one day whom +should I meet in the Rue St. Honoré but that excellent spy of Sully's, +Monsieur de Pepicot?</p> + +<p>I begged him to come into a tavern. "There is something you owe me," +said I, when we were seated; "an account of how you got out of the +Chateau de Lavardin that night without leaving any trace."</p> + +<p>"It was nothing," said the long-nosed man meekly. "I found an empty room +with a mullioned window, on the floor beneath ours, and let myself down +to the terrace with a knotted rope I had brought in my portmanteau."</p> + +<p>"But I never heard that any rope was found."</p> + +<p>"I had passed it round the inside of the window-mullion and lowered both +ends to the ground, attached to my portmanteau. In descending I kept +hold of both parts. When I was down, I had only to release one part and +pull the rope after me. I found a gardener's tool-shed, and in it some +poles for trellis-work. I placed two of these side by side against the +garden wall, at the postern door, and managed to clamber to the top."</p> + +<p>"But I heard of nothing being found against the wall."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I drew the poles up after me, and also my portmanteau, by means of +the rope, which I had fastened to them and to my waist. I let them down +to a plank which crossed the moat there, as I had observed before ever +entering the chateau. I dropped after them, and was lucky enough to +avoid falling into the moat. I hid the poles among the bushes: not that +it mattered, but I thought it would amuse the Count to conjecture how I +had got away. One likes to give people something to think of.—As for my +horse, I had seen to it that he was kept in an unlocked penthouse.—Ah, +well! that Count thought he was a great chess-player." And Monsieur de +Pepicot smiled faintly and shook his head.</p> + +<p>At the prospect of war, I joined the army assembling at Chalons, but the +lamentable murder of the King put an end to his great plans, and I +resumed my former way, swinging like a pendulum between Paris and La +Tournoire. One soft, pink evening in the second summer after my +adventure at Lavardin, I was privileged to walk alone with the Countess +in the meadows behind Hugues's mill. Health and serenity had raised her +beauty to perfection, and there was no trace of her sorrows but the +humble dignity and brave gentleness of her look and manner.</p> + +<p>"You are the loveliest woman in the world," I said, without any sort of +warning. "Ah, Louise—surely I may call you that now—how I adore you! I +cannot any longer keep back what is in my heart. See yonder where the +sun has set—that is where La Tournoire is. It seems to beckon us—not +me alone, but us—together. When will you come?—when may I take you to +my father and mother, and hear them say I could not have found a sweeter +wife in all France?"</p> + +<p>Trembling, she raised her moist eyes to mine, and said in a voice like a +low sigh:</p> + +<p>"Ah, Henri, if it were possible! But you forget the barrier: we are not +of the same religion. I know your mother changed her faith for your +father's sake; but I could never do so."</p> + +<p>"But what if I changed for your sake?" I said, taking her hand.</p> + +<p>"Henri! will you do that?" she cried, with a joy that told all I wished +to know.</p> + +<p>In truth, I had often thought of going over to the national form of +worship. As soon, therefore, as I got to La Tournoire after this +meeting, I opened the matter to my father.</p> + +<p>"Why," said he, "I think it a sensible resolve. The times are changed; +since King Henri's death, there is no longer any hope of us Huguenots +maintaining a balance. As a party, we have done our work, and are doomed +to pass away. Those who persist will only keep up a division in the +nation, from which they can gain nothing, and which will be a source of +useless troubles. As for the religious side of the question, some people +prefer artificial forms of expression, some do not. It is a matter of +externals: and if one must needs subscribe to a few doctrines he does +not believe, who is harmed by that? These things are much to women, and +we, to whom they are less, can afford to yield. I often fancy your +mother would like to go back to the faith of her childhood,—and if she +ever expresses the wish, I will not hinder her. When I married her, all +was different: I could not have become a Catholic then. Nor indeed can I +do so now. Blaise Tripault and I are too old for new tricks: we must not +change our colours at this late day: we are survivals from a bygone +state of things. But you, my son, belong to a new France. Our great +Henri said. 'Surely Paris is worth a mass': and I dare say this lady is +as much to you as Paris was to him."</p> + +<p>So the Church gained a convert and I a wife. Hugues and Mathilde came to +live on our estate. And Mlle. Celeste, in course of time, was married to +a raw young Gascon as lean as a lath, as poor as a fiddler, and as +thirsty as a Dutchman, but with moustaches twice as long as those of +Brignan de Brignan.</p> + + +<h4>THE END.</h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Works_of_Robert_Neilson_Stephens" id="Works_of_Robert_Neilson_Stephens"></a>Works of Robert Neilson Stephens</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An Enemy to the King<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Continental Dragoon<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Road to Paris<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A Gentleman Player<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Philip Winwood<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Captain Ravenshaw<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Mystery of Murray Davenport<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Bright Face of Danger<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="L_C_Page_and_Company" id="L_C_Page_and_Company"></a>L. C. Page and Company</h2> + + +<h3>The Mystery of Murray Davenport.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Robert Neilson Stephens</span><br /> +author of "An Enemy to the King," "Philip Winwood," etc.</h3> + +<p>In his latest novel, Mr. Stephens has made a radical departure from the +themes of his previous successes. Turning from past days and distant +scenes, he has taken up American life of to-day as his new field, +therein proving himself equally capable. Original in its conception, +striking in its psychologic interest, and with a most perplexing love +problem, "The Mystery of Murray Davenport" is the most vital and +absorbing of all Mr. Stephens's novels, and will add not a little to his +reputation.</p> + +<p>"This is easily the best thing that Mr. Stephens has yet done. Those +familiar with his other novels can best judge the measure of this +praise, which is generous."—<i>Buffalo News.</i></p> + +<p>"Mr. Stephens won a host of friends through his earlier volumes, but we +think he will do still better work in his new field if the present +volume is a criterion."—<i>N. Y. Com. Advertiser.</i></p> + + +<h3>The Daughter of the Dawn.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">R. Hodder.</span></h3> + + +<p>This is a powerful story of adventure and mystery, its scene New +Zealand. In sustained interest and novel plot, it recalls Rider +Haggard's "King Solomon's Mines," and "She" but the reader will find an +added interest due to the apparent reality with which the author +succeeds in investing the sensational incidents of his plot.</p> + + +<h3>The Spoilsmen.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Elliott Flower</span><br /> +author of "Policeman Flynn," etc.</h3> + +<p>This is a story of municipal politics, depicting conditions common to +practically all large cities. The political methods employed, however, +are in most instances taken from the actual experiences of men who have +served the public in some capacity or other, and the stories told of +some of the characters are literally true. The love interest centres +around a girl of high ideals, who inspires a wealthy young man to enter +the local campaign.</p> + +<p>"The best one may hear of 'The Spoilsmen' will be none too good. As a +wide-awake, snappy, brilliant political story it has few equals, its +title-page being stamped with that elusive mark, 'success.' One should +not miss a word of a book like this at a time like this and in a world +of politics like this."—<i>Boston Transcript.</i></p> + +<p>"...It ought to do good. The world of municipal politics is put before +the reader in a striking and truthful manner; and the sources of evil +that afflict the government of our cities are laid bare in a manner that +should arrest the attention of every honest man who wishes to purge and +cleanse our local governments. It illustrates, too, very forcibly, how +difficult a work it is to accomplish such municipal reform, and how +useless it is to attempt it without united and persistent effort on the +part of those who should be most interested."—<i>Grover Cleveland.</i></p> + + +<h3>A Daughter of Thespis.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">John D. Barry</span><br /> +author of "The Intriguers," "Mademoiselle Blanche," etc.</h3> + +<p>The author's experiences as a dramatic critic have enabled him to write +with authority on the ever fascinating theme of stage life. From "the +front," in the wings, and on the boards—from all these varying points +of view, is told this latest story of player folk—an absorbing tale.</p> + +<p>"This story of the experiences of Evelyn Johnson, actress, may be +praised just because it is so true and so wholly free from melodrama and +the claptrap which we have come to think inseparable from any narrative +which has to do with theatrical experiences."—<i>Professor Harry Thurston +Peck, of Columbia University.</i></p> + + +<h3>Prince Hagen.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Upton Sinclair</span><br /> +author of "King Midas," etc.</h3> + +<p>In this book, Mr. Sinclair has written a satire of the first order—one +worthy to be compared with Swift's biting tirades against the follies +and abuses of mankind.</p> + +<p>The scheme of the book is as delightful as it is original—Prince Hagen, +son of that Hagen who killed Siegfried, grandson of Alberich, King of +the Nibelungs, comes to this earth from Nibelheim, for a completion of +his education, and it is the effect of our modern morality on a +brilliant and unscrupulous mind which forms the basis of Mr. Sinclair's +story. Prince Hagen's first exploits are at school; then in the thick of +New York's corrupt politics as a boss. Later, after he has inherited the +untold wealth of the Nibelungs, he tastes the society life of the +metropolis.</p> + +<p>As a story simply, the book is thoroughly entertaining, with a climax of +surprising power; but, as a satire, it will live.</p> + + +<h3>Earth's Enigmas.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Charles G. D. Roberts</span><br /> +author of "The Kindred of the Wild," "The Heart of the Ancient Wood," etc.</h3> + +<p>"It will rank high among collections of short stories.... His prose art, +too, has reached a high degree of perfection.... In 'Earth's Enigmas' is +a wider range of subject than in the 'Kindred of the Wild.'"—<i>Review +from advance sheets of the illustrated edition by Tiffany Blake in the +Chicago Evening Post.</i></p> + +<p>"Throughout the volume runs that subtle questioning of the cruel, +predatory side of nature which suggests the general title of the book. +In certain cases it is the picture of savage nature ravening for +food—for death to preserve life; in others it is the secret symbolism +of woods and waters prophesying of evils and misadventures to come. All +this does not mean, however, that Mr. Roberts is either pessimistic or +morbid—it is nature in his books after all, wholesome in her cruel +moods as in her tender."—<i>The New York Independent.</i></p> + + +<h3>The Silent Maid.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Frederic W. Pangborn</span>.</h3> + + +<p>A dainty and delicate legend of the brave days of old, of sprites and +pixies, of trolls and gnomes, of ruthless barons and noble knights. "The +Silent Maid" herself, with her strange bewitchment and wondrous song, is +equalled only by Undine in charm and mystery. The tale is told in that +quaint diction which chronicles "The Forest Lovers," and in which Mr. +Pangborn, although a new and hitherto undiscovered writer, is no less an +artist than Mr. Hewlett.</p> + + +<h3>The Golden Kingdom.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Andrew Balfour</span><br /> +author of "Vengeance is Mine," "To Arms!" etc.</h3> + + +<p>This is a story of adventure on land and sea, beginning in England, and +ending in South Africa, in the last days of the seventeenth century. The +scheme of the tale at once puts the reader in mind of Stevenson's +"Treasure Island," and with that augury of a good story, he at once +continues from the mysterious advent of Corkran the Coxswain into the +quiet English village, through scenes of riot, slave-trading, shipwreck, +and savages to the end of all in the "Golden Kingdom" with its strange +denizens. The character of Jacob the Blacksmith, big of body and bigger +of heart, ever ready in time of peril, will alone hold his attention +with a strong grip.</p> + + +<h3>The Promotion of the Admiral.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Morley Roberts</span><br /> +author of "The Colossus," "The Fugitives," "Sons of Empire," etc.</h3> + + +<p>We consider ourselves fortunate in being able to announce this latest +novel by Mr. Morley Roberts, who has such a wide circle of readers and +admirers. This volume contains half a dozen stories of sea life,—fresh, +racy, and bracing,—some humorous, some thrilling, all laid in +America,—a new field for Mr. Roberts,—and introduces a unique +creation, "Shanghai Smith," of "'Frisco," kidnapper of seamen, whose +calling and adventures have already interested and amused all readers of +<i>The Philadelphia Saturday Evening Post</i>.</p> + + +<h3>The Schemers.</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Tale of Modern Life</span>.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Edward F. Harkins</span><br /> +author of "Little Pilgrimages Among the Men Who Have Written Famous Books," etc.</h3> + + +<p>A story of a new and real phase of social life in Boston, skilfully and +daringly handled. There is plenty of life and color abounding, and a +diversity of characters—shop-girls, society belles, men about town, +city politicians, and others. The various schemers and their schemes +will be followed with interest—and there will be some discerning +readers who may claim to recognize in certain points of the story +certain recent happenings in the shopping and the society circles of the +Hub.</p> + + +<h3>The Captain's Wife.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">W. Clark Russell</span><br /> +author of "The Wreck of the Grosvenor," "The Mate of the Good Ship York,"' etc.</h3> + + +<p>The customary epithets applied to nautical fiction are quite +incommensurate with the excellence of Mr. Clark Russell's narrative +powers, and these are thoroughly at their best in "The Captain's Wife." +"The Captain's Wife" is the story of a voyage, and its romantic interest +hinges on the stratagem of the captain's newly wedded wife in order to +accompany him on his expedition for the salvage of a valuable wreck. The +plot thickens so gradually that a less competent novelist would be in +danger of letting the reader's attention slip. But the climax of +Benson's conspiracy to remove the captain, and carry off the wife, to +whom his lawless passion aspires, is invested with the keenest +excitement.</p> + + +<h3>The Story of the Foss River Ranch.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Ridgwell Cullom</span>.</h3> + + +<p>The scene of this story is laid in Canada, not in one of the great +cities, but in that undeveloped section of the great Northwest where +to-day scenes are being enacted similar to those enacted fifty years ago +during the settlement of the great American West. The story is intense, +with a sustained and well-developed plot, and will thus appeal to the +reading public.</p> + + +<h3>The Interference of Patricia.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Lilian Bell</span><br /> +author of "Hope Loring," "Abroad with the Jimmies," etc.<br /> +With a frontispiece from drawing by Frank T. Merrill.</h3> + + +<p>This story adds not a little to the author's reputation as a teller of +clever tales. It is of the social life of to-day in Denver—that city of +gold and ozone—and deals of that burg's peculiarities with a keen and +flashing satire. The character of the heroine, Patricia, will hold the +reader by its power and brilliancy. Impetuous, capricious, and wayward, +with a dominating personality and spirit, she is at first a careless +girl, then develops into a loyal and loving woman, whose interference +saves the honor of both her father and lover. The love theme is in the +author's best vein, the character sketches of the magnates of Denver are +amusing and trenchant, and the episodes of the plot are convincing, +sincere, and impressive.</p> + + +<h3>A Book Of Girls.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Lilian Bell</span><br /> +author of "Hope Loring," "Abroad with the Jimmies," etc.<br /> +With a frontispiece.</h3> + + +<p>It is quite universally recognized that Lilian Bell has done for the +American girl in fiction what Gibson has done for her in art—that +Lilian Bell has crystallized into a distinct type all the peculiar +qualities that have made the American girl unique among the women of the +world. Consequently, a book with a Bell heroine is sure of a hearty +welcome. What, therefore, can be said of this book, which contains no +less than four types of witching and buoyant femininity? There are four +stories of power and dash in this volume: "The Last Straw," "The +Surrender of Lapwing," "The Penance of Hedwig," and "Garret Owen's +Little Countess." Each one of these tells a tale full of verve and +thrill, each one has a heroine of fibre and spirit.</p> + + +<h3>Count Zarka.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Sir William Magnay</span><br /> +author of "The Red Chancellor."</h3> + + +<p>"The Red Chancellor" was considered by critics, as well as by the +reading public, one of the most dramatic novels of last year. In his new +book, Sir William Magnay has continued in the field in which he has been +so successful. "Count Zarka" is a strong, quick-moving romance of +adventure and political intrigue, the scene being laid in a fictitious +kingdom of central Europe, under which thin disguise may be recognized +one of the Balkan states. The story in its action and complications +reminds one strongly of "The Prisoner of Zenda," while the man[oe]uvring +of Russia for the control in the East strongly suggests the contemporary +history of European politics. The character of the mysterious Count +Zarka, hero and villain, is strongly developed, and one new in fiction.</p> + + +<h3>The Golden Dwarf.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">R. Norman Silver</span><br /> +author of "A Daughter of Mystery," etc.</h3> + + +<p>Mr. Silver needs no introduction to the American public. His "A Daughter +of Mystery" was one of the most realistic stories of modern London life +that has recently appeared. "The Golden Dwarf" is such another story, +intense and almost sensational. Mr. Silver reveals the mysterious and +gruesome beneath the commonplace in an absorbing manner. The "Golden +Dwarf" himself, his strange German physician, and the secret of the +Wyresdale Tower are characters and happenings which will hold the reader +from cover to cover.</p> + + +<h3>Alain Tanger's Wife.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">J. H. Yoxall</span><br /> +author of "The Rommany Stone," etc.</h3> + + +<p>A spirited story of political intrigue in France. The various +dissensions of the parties claiming political supremacy, and "the wheels +within wheels" that move them to their schemes are caustically and +trenchantly revealed. A well known figure in the military history of +France plays a prominent part in the plot—but the central figure is +that of the American heroine—loyal, intense, piquant, and compelling.</p> + + +<h3>The Diary of a Year.</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Passages in the Life of a Woman of the World</span>.<br /> +Edited by Mrs. <span class="smcap">Charles H. E. Brookfield</span>.</h3> + + +<p>The writer of this absorbing study of emotions and events is gifted with +charming imagination and an elegant style. The book abounds in brilliant +wit, amiable philosophy, and interesting characterizations. The "woman +of the world" reveals herself as a fascinating, if somewhat reckless, +creature, who justly holds the sympathies of the reader.</p> + + +<h3>The Red Triangle.<br /> +Being some further chronicles of Martin Hewitt, investigator.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Arthur Morrison</span><br /> +author of "The Hole in the Wall," "Tales of Mean Streets," etc.</h3> + + +<p>This is a genuine, straightforward detective story of the kind that +keeps the reader on the <i>qui vive</i>. Martin Hewitt, investigator, might +well have studied his methods from Sherlock Holmes, so searching and +successful are they. His adventures take him at times to the slums of +London, amid scenes which recall Mr. Morrison's already noted "The Hole +in the Wall." As a combination of criminal and character studies, this +book is very successful.</p> + + +<h3>COMMONWEALTH SERIES No. 7.</h3> + +<h3>The Philadelphians:</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap">As Seen by a New York Woman</span>.</h3> + +<h3>By <span class="smcap">Katharine Bingham</span>. (Pseud.)</h3> + + +<p>A bright and breezy tale of a charming New York woman, whose wedded lot +is twice cast in Philadelphia. The family of her first husband committed +the unpardonable sin of living north of Market Street; that of her +second husband resided south of that line of demarcation. She is thus +enabled to speak whereof she knows concerning the conventions, and draws +the characteristics of life in the Quaker city, as well as the foibles +of the "first families" with a keen and caustic, though not unkindly, +pen.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Bright Face of Danger, by +Robert Neilson Stephens and H. C. 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C. Edwards + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Bright Face of Danger + +Author: Robert Neilson Stephens + H. C. Edwards + +Release Date: November 7, 2009 [EBook #30417] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BRIGHT FACE OF DANGER *** + + + + +Produced by David Edwards, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + + + + + The Bright Face of Danger + +_Being an Account of Some Adventures of Henri de Launay, Son of the +Sieur de la Tournoire. Freely Translated into Modern English_ + + By Robert Neilson Stephens + +_Author of_ "An Enemy to the King," "Philip Winwood," "The Mystery of +Murray Davenport," etc. + + _Illustrated by_ H. C. Edwards + + +_Boston_ +L. C. Page & Company +_Mdcccciiii_ + +_Copyright, 1904_ +By L. C. Page & Company + +_Entered at Stationers' Hall, London_ +_All rights reserved_ + +Published April, 1904 +Colonial Press + +Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co. +Boston. Mass., U.S.A. + + + + + _THE BRIGHT FACE OF DANGER is, in a distant way, a sequel to "An + Enemy to the King," but may be read alone, without any reference to + that tale. The title is a phrase of Robert Louis Stevenson's._ + + _THE AUTHOR._ + + +[Illustration: "'I GIVE YOU ONE CHANCE FOR YOUR LIFE,' SAID I QUICKLY."] + + + + +CONTENTS + + + I. MONSIEUR HENRI DE LAUNAY SETS OUT ON A JOURNEY + + II. A YOUNG MAN WHO WENT SINGING + + III. WHERE THE LADY WAS + + IV. WHO THE LADY WAS + + V. THE CHATEAU DE LAVARDIN + + VI. WHAT THE PERIL WAS + + VII. STRANGE DISAPPEARANCES + + VIII. MATHILDE + + IX. THE WINDING STAIRS + + X. MORE THAN MERE PITY + + XI. THE RAT-HOLE AND THE WATER-JUG + + XII. THE ROPE LADDER + + XIII. THE PARTING + + XIV. IN THE FOREST + + XV. THE TOWER OF MORLON + + XVI. THE MERCY OF CAPTAIN FERRAGANT + + XVII. THE SWORD OF LA TOURNOIRE + + XVIII. THE MOUSTACHES OF BRIGNAN DE BRIGNAN + + XIX. AFTERWARDS + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + +"'I GIVE YOU ONE CHANCE FOR YOUR LIFE,' SAID I QUICKLY" + +"'AND NOW SHE WILL WAIT FOR HIM IN VAIN!'" + +"WE WERE INTERRUPTED BY A LOW CRY" + +"'THE WRETCHES!' SAID THE TORTURED COUNT, STAGGERING TO HIS FEET" + +"I LEAPED OVER THE BED, AND UPON THE MAN WHO WAS TRYING TO STRANGLE THE +COUNTESS" + +"MY FATHER'S THRUSTS BECAME NOW SO QUICK AND CONTINUOUS" + + + + +THE BRIGHT FACE OF DANGER + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +MONSIEUR HENRI DE LAUNAY SETS OUT ON A JOURNEY + + +If, on the first Tuesday in June, in the year 1608, anybody had asked me +on what business I was riding towards Paris, and if I had answered, "To +cut off the moustaches of a gentleman I have never seen, that I may toss +them at the feet of a lady who has taunted me with that gentleman's +superiorities,"--if I had made this reply, I should have been taken for +the most foolish person on horseback in France that day. Yet the answer +would have been true, though I accounted myself one of the wisest young +gentlemen you might find in Anjou or any other province. + +I was, of a certainty, studious, and a lover of books. My father, the +Sieur de la Tournoire, being a daring soldier, had so often put himself +to perils inimical to my mother's peace of mind, that she had guided my +inclinations in the peaceful direction of the library, hoping not to +suffer for the son such alarms as she had undergone for the husband. I +had grown up, therefore, a musing, bookish youth, rather shy and +solitary in my habits: and this despite the care taken of my education +in swordsmanship, riding, hunting, and other manly accomplishments, both +by my father and by his old follower, Blaise Tripault. I acquired skill +enough to satisfy these well-qualified instructors, but yet a volume of +Plutarch or a book of poems was more to me than sword or dagger, horse, +hound, or falcon. I was used to lonely walks and brookside meditations +in the woods and meads of our estate of La Tournoire, in Anjou; and it +came about that with my head full of verses I must needs think upon some +lady with whom to fancy myself in love. + +Contiguity determined my choice. The next estate to ours, separated from +it by a stream flowing into the Loir, had come into the possession of a +rich family of bourgeois origin whom heaven had blessed (or burdened, as +some would think) with a pretty daughter. Mlle. Celeste was a small, +graceful, active creature, with a clear and well-coloured skin, and +quick-glancing black eyes which gave me a pleasant inward stir the first +time they rested on me. In my first acquaintance with this young lady, +the black eyes seemed to enlarge and soften when they fell on me: she +regarded me with what I took to be interest and approval: her face shone +with friendliness, and her voice was kind. In this way I was led on. + +When she saw how far she had drawn me, her manner changed: she became +whimsical, never the same for five minutes: sometimes indifferent, +sometimes disdainful, sometimes gay at my expense. This treatment +touched my pride, and would have driven me off, but that still, when in +her presence, I felt in some degree the charm of the black eyes, the +well-chiselled face, the graceful swift motions, and what else I know +not. When I was away from her, this charm declined: nevertheless I chose +to keep her in my mind as just such a capricious object of adoration as +poets are accustomed to lament and praise in the same verses. + +But indeed I was never for many days out of reach of her attractive +powers, for several of her own favourite haunts were on her side of the +brook by which I was in the habit of strolling or reclining for some +part of almost every fair day. Attended by a fat and sleepy old +waiting-woman, she was often to be seen running along the grassy bank +with a greyhound that followed her everywhere. For this animal she +showed a constancy of affection that made her changefulness to me the +more heart-sickening. + +Thus, half in love, half in disgust, I sat moodily on my side of the +stream one sunny afternoon, watching her on the other side. She had been +running a race with the dog, and had just settled down on the green +bank, with the hound sitting on his haunches beside her. Both dog and +girl were panting, and her face was still merry with the fun of the +scamper. Her old attendant had probably been left dozing in some other +part of the wood. Here now was an opportunity for me to put in a sweet +speech or two. But as I looked at her and thought of her treatment of +me, my pride rebelled, and I suppose my face for the moment wore a +cloud. My expression, whatever it was, caught the quick eyes of Mlle. +Celeste. Being in merriment herself, she was the readier to make scorn +of my sulky countenance. She pealed out a derisive laugh. + +"Oh, the sour face! Is that what comes of your eternal reading?" + +I had in my hand a volume of Plutarch in the French of Amyot. Her +ridicule of reading annoyed me. + +"No, Mademoiselle, it isn't from books that one draws sourness. I find +more sweetness in them than in--most things." I was looking straight at +her as I said this. + +She pretended to laugh again, but turned quite red. + +"Nay, forgive me," I said, instantly softened. "Ah, Celeste, you know +too well what is the sweetest of all books for my reading." By my look +and sigh, she knew I meant her face. But she chose to be contemptuous. + +"Poh! What should a pale scholar know of such books? I tell you, +Monsieur de Launay, you will never be a man till you leave your books +and see a little of the world." + +Though she called me truly enough a pale scholar, I was scarlet for a +moment. + +"And what do you know of the world, then?" I retorted. "Or of men +either?" + +"I am only a girl. But as to men, I have met one or two. There is your +father, for example. And that brave and handsome Brignan de Brignan." + +Whether I loved or not, I was certainly capable of jealousy; and +jealousy of the fiercest arose at the name of Brignan de Brignan. I had +never seen him; but she had mentioned him to me before, too many times +indeed for me to hear his name now with composure. He was a young +gentleman of the King's Guard, of whom, by reason of a distant +relationship, her family had seen much during a residence of several +months in Paris. + +"Brignan de Brignan," I echoed. "Yes, I dare say he has looked more into +the faces of women than into books." + +"And more into the face of danger than into either. That's what has made +him the man he is." + +"Tut!" I cried, waving my Plutarch; "there's more manly action in this +book than a thousand Brignans could perform in all their lives--more +danger encountered." + +"An old woman might read it for all that. Would it make her manly? Well, +Monsieur Henri, if you choose to encounter danger only in books, there's +nobody to complain. But you shouldn't show malice toward those who +prefer to meet it in the wars or on the road." + +"Malice? Not I. What is Brignan de Brignan to me? You may say what you +please--this Plutarch is as good a school of heroism as any officer of +the King's Guard ever went to." + +"Yet the officers of the King's Guard aren't pale, moping fellows like +you lovers of books. Ah, Monsieur Henri, if you mean to be a monk, well +and good. But otherwise, do you know what would change your complexion +for the better? A lively brush with real dangers on the field, or in +Paris, or anywhere away from your home and your father's protection. +That would bring colour into your cheeks." + +"You may let my cheeks alone, Mademoiselle." + +"You may be sure I will do that." + +"I'm quite satisfied with my complexion, and I wouldn't exchange it for +that of Brignan de Brignan. I dare say his face is red enough." + +"Yes, a most manly colour. And his broad shoulders--and powerful +arms--and fine bold eyes--ah! there _is_ the picture of a hero--and his +superb moustaches--" + +Now I was at the time not strong in respect of moustaches. I was +extremely sensitive upon the point. My frame, though not above middle +size, was yet capable of robust development, my paleness was not beyond +remedy, and my eyes were of a pleasant blue, so there was little to +rankle in what she said of my rival's face and body; but as to the +moustaches----! + +I scrambled to my feet. + +"I tell you what it is, Mademoiselle. Just to show what your Brignan +really amounts to, and whether I mean to be a monk, and what a reader of +books can do when he likes, I have made up my mind to go to Paris; and +there I will find your Brignan, and show my scorn of such an illiterate +bravo, and cut off his famous moustaches, and bring them back to you for +proof! So adieu, Mademoiselle, for this is the last you will see of me +till what I have said is done!" + +The thing had come into my head in one hot moment, indeed it formed +itself as I spoke it; and so I, the quiet and studious, stood committed +to an act which the most harebrained brawler in Anjou would have deemed +childish folly. Truly, I did lack knowledge of the world. + +I turned from Mlle. Celeste's look of incredulous wonderment, and went +off through the woods, with swifter strides than I usually took, to our +chateau. Of course I dared not tell my parents my reason for wishing to +go to Paris. It was enough, to my mother at least, that I should desire +to go on any account. The best way in which I could put my resolution to +them, which I did that very afternoon, on the terrace where I found them +sitting, was thus: + +"I have been thinking how little I know of the world. It is true, you +have taken me to Paris; but I was only a lad then, and what I saw was +with a lad's eyes and under your guidance. I am now twenty-two, and many +a man at that age has begun to make his own career. To be worthy of my +years, of my breeding, of my name, I ought to know something of life +from my own experience. So I have resolved, with your permission, my +dear father and mother, to go to Paris and see what I may see." + +My mother had turned pale as soon as she saw the drift of my speech, and +was for putting every plea in the way. But my father, though he looked +serious, seemed not displeased. We talked upon the matter--as to how +long I should wish to stay in Paris, whether I had thought of aiming at +any particular career there, and of such things. I said I had formed no +plans nor hopes: these might or might not come after I had arrived in +Paris and looked about me. But see something of the world I must, if +only that I might not be at disadvantage in conversation afterward. It +was a thing I could afford, for on the attainment of my majority my +father had made over to me the income of a portion of our estate, a +small enough revenue indeed, but one that looked great in my eyes. He +could not now offer any reasonable objection to my project, and he plead +my cause with my mother, without whose consent I should not have had the +heart to go. Indeed, knowing what her dread had always been, and seeing +the anxious love in her eyes as she now regarded me, I almost wavered. +But of course she was won over, as women are, though what tears her +acquiescence caused her afterwards when she was alone I did not like to +think upon. + +She comforted herself presently with the thought that our faithful +Blaise Tripault should attend me, but here again I had to oppose her. +For Blaise, by reason of his years and the service he had done my father +in the old wars, was of a dictatorial way with all of us, and I knew he +would rob me of all responsibility and freedom, so that I should be +again a lad under the thumb of an elder and should profit nothing in +self-reliance and mastership. Besides this reason, which I urged upon my +parents, I had my own reason, which I did not urge, namely, that I +should never dare let Blaise know the special purpose of my visit to +Paris. He would laugh me out of countenance, and yet ten to one he would +in the end deprive me of the credit of keeping my promise, by taking its +performance upon himself. That I might be my own master, therefore, I +chose as my valet the most tractable fellow at my disposal, one Nicolas, +a lank, knock-kneed jack of about my own age, who had hitherto made +himself of the least possible use, with the best possible intentions, +between the dining-hall and the kitchen. And yet he was clever enough +among horses, or anywhere outdoors. My mother, though she wondered at my +choice and trembled to think how fragile a reed I should have to rely +on, was yet not sorry, I fancy, at the prospect of ridding her house of +poor blundering Nicolas in a kind and creditable way. I had reason to +think Nicolas better suited for this new service, and, by insisting, I +gained my point in this also. + +I made haste about my equipment, and in a few days we set forth, myself +on a good young chestnut gelding, Nicolas on a strong black mule, which +carried also our baggage. Before I mounted, and while my mother, doing +her best to keep back her tears, was adding some last article of comfort +to the contents of my great leather bag, my father led me into the +window recess of the hall, and after speaking of the letters of +introduction with which he had provided me, said in his soldierly, +straightforward manner: + +"I know you have gathered wisdom from books, and it will serve you well, +because it will make you take better heed of experience and see more +meaning in it. But then it will require the experience to give your +book-learned wisdom its full force. Often at first, in the face of +emergency, when the call is for action, your wisdom will fly from your +mind; but this will not be the case after you have seen life for +yourself. Experience will teach you the full and living meaning of much +that you now know but as written truth. It may teach you also some +things you have never read, nor even dreamt of. What you have learned by +study, and what you must learn by practice only, leave no use for any +good counsel I might give you now. Only one thing I can't help saying, +though you know it already and will doubtless see it proved again and +again. There are many deceivers in the world. Don't trust the outward +look of things or people. Be cautious; yet conceal your caution under +courtesy, for nothing is more boorish than open suspicion. And remember, +too, not to think bad, either, from appearances alone. You may do +injustice that way. Hold your opinion till the matter is tested. When +appearances are fair, be wary without showing it; when they are bad, +regard your safety but don't condemn. In other words, always mingle +caution with urbanity, even with kindness.--I need not speak of the name +you have to keep unsullied. Honour is a thing about which you require no +admonitions. You know that it consists as much in not giving affronts as +in not enduring them, though many who talk loudest about it seem to +think otherwise. Indeed this is an age in which honour is prated of most +by those who practise it least. Well, my son, there are a thousand +things I would say, but that is all I shall say. Good-bye--may the good +God bless and protect you." + +I had much to do to speak firmly and to perceive what I was about, in +taking my leave, for my mother could no longer refrain from sobbing as +she embraced me at the last, and my young brother and sister, catching +the infection, began to whimper and to rub their eyes with their fists. +Knowing so much more of my wild purpose than they did, and realizing +that I might never return alive, I was the more tried in my resolution +not to disgrace with tears the virgin rapier and dagger at my side. But +finally I got somehow upon my horse, whose head Blaise Tripault was +holding, and threw my last kisses to the family on the steps. I then +managed voice enough to say "Good-bye, Blaise," to the old soldier. + +"Nay, I will walk as far as to the village," said he, in his gruff, +autocratic way. "I have a word or two for you at parting." + +Throwing back a somewhat pallid smile to my people, tearfully waving +their adieus, I turned my horse out of the court-yard, followed by +Nicolas on the mule, and soon emerging from the avenue, was upon the +road. Blaise Tripault strode after me. When I came in front of the inn +at the end of the village, he called out to stop. I did so, and Blaise, +coming up to my stirrup, handed me a folded paper and thus addressed me: + +"Of course your father has given you all the advice you need. Nobody is +more competent than he to instruct a young man setting out to see the +world. His young days were the days of hard knocks, as everybody knows. +But as I was thinking of your journey, there came into my head an old +tale a monk told me once--for, like your father, I was never too much of +a Huguenot to get what good I might out of any priest or monk the Lord +chose to send my way. It's a tale that has to do with travelling, and +that's what made me think of it--a tale about three maxims that some +wise person once gave a Roman emperor who was going on a journey. I half +forget the tale itself, for it isn't much of a tale; but the maxims I +remembered, because I had had experience enough to realize their value. +I've written them out for you there: and if you get them by heart, and +never lose sight of them, you'll perhaps save yourself much repentance." + +He then bade me good-bye, and the last I saw of him he was entering the +inn to drink to my good fortune. + +When I had got clear of the village, I unfolded Blaise's paper and read +the maxims: + +1. "_Never undertake a thing unless you can see your way to the end of +it._" + +2. "_Never sleep in a house where the master is old and the wife +young._" + +3. "_Never leave a highway for a byway._" + +Very good counsel, thought I, and worth bearing in mind. It was true, my +very journey itself was, as to its foolhardy purpose, a violation of the +first maxim. But that could not be helped now, and I could at least heed +that piece of advice, as well as the others, in the details of my +mission. When I thought of that mission, I felt both foolish and +heavy-hearted. I had not the faintest idea yet of how I should go about +encountering Brignan de Brignan and getting into a quarrel with him, and +I had great misgivings as to how I should be able to conduct myself in +that quarrel, and as to its outcome. Certainly no man ever took the road +on a more incredible, frivolous quest. Of all the people travelling my +way, that June morning, T was probably one of the most thoughtful and +judiciously-minded; yet of every one but myself the business in being +abroad was sober and reasonable, while mine was utterly ridiculous and +silly. And the girl whose banter had driven me to it--perhaps she had +attached no seriousness whatever to my petulant vow and had even now +forgotten it. With these reflections were mingled the pangs of parting +from my home and family; and for a time I was downcast and sad. + +But the day was fine. Presently my thoughts, which at first had flown +back to all I had left behind, began to concern themselves with the +scenes around me; then they flew ahead to the place whither I was +bound:--this is usually the way on journeys. At least, thought I, I +should see life, and perchance meet dangers, and so far be the gainer. +And who knows but I might even come with credit out of the affair with +Monsieur de Brignan?--it is a world of strange turnings, and the upshot +is always more or less different from what has been predicted. So I took +heart, and already I began to feel I was not exactly the pale scholar of +yesterday. It was something to be my own master, on horseback and +well-armed, my eyes ranging the wide and open country, green and brown +in the sunlight, dotted here and there with trees, sometimes traversed +by a stream, and often backed by woods of darker green, which seemed to +hold secrets dangerous and luring. + +Riding gave me a great appetite, and I was fortunate in coming upon an +inn at Durtal whose table was worthy of my capacity. After dinner, we +took the road again and proceeded at an easy pace toward La Fleche. + +Toward the middle of the afternoon a vague uneasiness stole over me, as +if some tragic circumstance lay waiting on the path--to me +unknown--ahead. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +A YOUNG MAN WHO WENT SINGING + + +It was about five o'clock when we rode into La Fleche, and the feeling +of ill foreboding still possessed me. Partly considering this, and +partly as it was improbable I should find the best accommodations +anywhere else short of Le Mans, I decided to put up here for the night. +As I rode into the central square of the town, I saw an inn there: it +had a prosperous and honest look, so I said, "This is the place for my +money," and made for it. The square was empty and silent when I entered +it, but just as I reached the archway of the inn, I heard a voice +singing, whereupon I looked around and saw a young man riding into the +square from another street than that I had come from. He was followed by +a servant on horseback, and was bound for the same inn. It seems strange +in the telling, that a gentleman should ride singing into a public +square, as if he were a mountebank or street-singer, yet it appeared +quite natural as this young fellow did it. The song was something about +brave soldiers and the smiles of ladies--just such a gay song as so +handsome a young cavalier ought to sing. I looked at him a moment, then +rode on into the inn-yard. This little act, done in all thoughtlessness, +and with perfect right, was the cause of momentous things in my life. If +I had waited to greet that young gentleman at the archway, I believe my +history would have gone very differently. As it was, I am convinced that +my carelessly dropping him from my regard, as if he were a person of no +interest, was the beginning of what grew between us. For, as he rode in +while I was dismounting, he threw at me a look of resentment for which +there was nothing to account but the possible wound to his vanity. His +countenance, symmetrically and somewhat boldly formed, showed great +self-esteem and a fondness for attention. His singing had suddenly +stopped. I could feel his anger, which was probably the greater for +having no real cause, I having been under no obligation to notice him or +offer him precedence. + +He called loudly for an ostler, and, when one came out of the stables, +he coolly gave his orders without waiting for me, though I had been +first in the yard. He bade his own servant see their horses well fed, +and then made for the inn-door, casting a scornful glance at me, and +resuming his song in a lower voice. It was now my turn to be angry, and +justly, but I kept silence. I knew not exactly how to take this sort of +demonstration: whether it was a usual thing among travellers and to be +paid back only in kind, or whether for the sake of my reputation I ought +to treat it as a serious affront. It is, of course, childish to take +offence at a trifle. In my ignorance of what the world expects of a man +upon receipt of hostile and disparaging looks, I could only act as one +always must who cannot make up his mind--do nothing. After seeing my +horse and mule attended to, I bade Nicolas follow with the baggage, and +entered the inn. + +The landlord was talking with my young singing gentleman, but made to +approach me as I came in. The young gentleman, however, speaking in a +peremptory manner, detained him with questions about the roads, the town +of La Fleche, and such matters. As I advanced, the young gentleman got +between me and the host, and continued his talk. I waited awkwardly +enough for the landlord's attention, and began to feel hot within. A +wench now placed on a table some wine that the young man had ordered, +and the landlord finally got rid of him by directing his attention to +it. As he went to sit down, he bestowed on me the faintest smile of +ridicule. I was too busy to think much of it at the moment, in ordering +a room for the night and sending Nicolas thither with my bag. I then +called for supper and sat down as far as possible from the other guest. +He and I were the only occupants of the room, but from the kitchen +adjoining came the noise of a number of the commonalty at food and +drink. + +"Always politeness," thought I, when my wine had come, and so, in spite +of his rudeness and his own neglect of the courtesy, as I raised my +glass I said to him, "Your health, Monsieur." + +He turned red at the reproach implied in my observance, then very +reluctantly lifted his own glass and said, "And yours," in a surly, +grudging manner. + +"It has been a pleasant day," I went on, resolved not to be churlish, at +all hazards. + +"Do you think so?" he replied contemptuously, and then turned to look +out of the window, and hummed the tune he had been singing before. + +I thought if such were the companions my journey was to throw me in +with, it would be a sorry time till I got home again. But my young +gentleman, for all his temporary sullenness, was really of a talkative +nature, as these vain young fellows are apt to be, and when he had +warmed himself a little with wine even his dislike of me could not +restrain his tongue any longer. + +"You are staying here to-night, then?" he suddenly asked. + +"Yes, and you?" + +"I shall ride on after supper. There will be starlight." + +"I have used my horse enough to-day." + +"And I mine, for that matter. But there are times when horses can't be +considered." + +"You are travelling on important business, then?" + +"On business of haste. I must put ground behind me." + +"I drink to the success of your business, then." + +"Thank you, I am always successful. There is another toast, that should +have first place. The ladies, Monsieur." + +"With all my heart." + +"That's a toast I never permit myself to defer. Mon dieu, I owe them +favours enough!" + +"You are fortunate," said I. + +"I don't complain. And you?" + +"Even if I were fortunate in that respect, I shouldn't boast of it." + +He coloured; but laughed shortly, and said, "It's not boasting to tell +the mere truth." + +"I was thinking of myself, not of you, Monsieur." This was true enough. + +"I can readily believe you've had no great luck that way," he said +spitefully, pretending to take stock of my looks. I knew his remark was +sheer malice, for my appearance was good enough--well-figured and +slender, with a pleasant, thoughtful face. + +"Let us talk of something else," I answered coldly, though I was far +from cool in reality. + +"Certainly. What do you think of the last conspiracy?" + +"That it was very rash and utterly without reason. We have the best king +France ever knew." + +"Yes, long live Henri IV.! They say there are still some of the +malcontents to be gathered in. Have you heard of any fresh arrests?" + +"Nothing within two weeks. I don't understand how these affairs can +possibly arise, after that of Biron. Men must be complete fools." + +"Oh, there are always malcontents who still count on Spain, and some +think even the League may be revived." + +"But why should they not be contented? I can't imagine any grievances." + +"Faith, my child, where have you been hiding yourself? Don't you know +the talk? Do you suppose everybody is pleased with this Dutch alliance? +And the way in which the King's old Huguenot comrades are again to be +seen around him?" + +"And why not? Through everything, the King's heart has always been with +the protestants." + +"Oho! So you are one of the psalm-singers, then?" His insulting tone and +jeering smile were intolerable. + +"I have sung no psalms here, at least," I replied trembling with anger; +"or anything else, to annoy the ears of my neighbours." + +"So you don't like my singing?" he cried, turning red again. + +I had truly rather admired it, but I said, "I have heard better." + +"Indeed? But how should you know. For your education in taste, I may +tell you that good judges have thought well of my singing." + +"Ay, brag of it, as you do of your success with the ladies." + +He stared at me in amazement, then cried. "Death of my life, young +fellow!--" But at that instant his servant brought in his supper, and he +went no further. My own meal was before me a minute later, and we both +devoted ourselves in angry silence to our food. I was still full of +resentment at his obtrusive scorn of myself and my religious party, and +I could see that he felt himself mightily outraged at my retorts. From +the rapid, heedless way in which he ate, I fancied his mind was busy +with all sorts of revenge upon me. + +When he had finished, at the same time as I did, and our servants had +gone to eat their supper in the kitchen, he leaned against the wall, and +said, "I am going to sing, Monsieur, whether it pleases you or not." And +forthwith he began to do so. + +My answer was to put on a look of pain, and walk hastily from the room, +as if the torture to my ears were too great for endurance. + +I was not half-way across the court-yard before I heard him at my heels +though not singing. + +"My friend," said he, as I turned around, "I don't know where you were +bred, but you should know this: it's not good manners to break from a +gentleman's company so unceremoniously." + +It occurred to me that because I had taken his insults from the first, +through not knowing how much a sensible man should bear, he thought he +might safely hector me to the full satisfaction of his hurt vanity. + +"So you do know something of good manners, after all?" I replied. "I +congratulate you." + +His eyes flashed new wrath, but before he knew how to answer, and while +we were glaring at each other like two cocks, though at some distance +apart, out came Nicolas from the kitchen to ask if I wished my cloak +brought down, which he had taken up with the bag. In his rustic +innocence he stepped between my nagging gentleman and myself. The +gentleman at this ran forward in an access of rage, and threw Nicolas +aside, saying, "Out of the way, knave! You're as great a clown as your +master." + +"Hands off! How dare you?" I cried, clapping my hand to my sword. + +"If you come a step nearer, I'll kill you!" he replied, grasping his own +hilt. + +I sent a swift glance around. There was no witness but Nicolas. Yet a +scuffle would draw people in ten seconds. Even at that moment, with my +heart beating madly, I thought of the edict against duelling: so I said, +as calmly as I could: + +"If you dare draw that sword, I see trees beyond that gateway--a garden +or something. It will be quieter there." I pointed to a narrow exit at +the rear of the yard. + +"I will show you whom you're dealing with, my lad!" he said, +breathlessly, and made at once for the gate. I followed. I could see now +that, though a bully, he was not a coward, and the discovery fell upon +me with a sense of how grave a matter I had been drawn into. + +At the gate I looked around, and saw Nicolas following, his eyes wide +with alarm. "Stay where you are, and not a word to anybody," I ordered, +and closed the gate after me. My adversary led the way across a +neglected garden, and out through a postern in a large wall, to where +there was a thicker growth of trees. We passed among these to a little +open space near the river, from which it was partly veiled by a tangled +mass of bushes. The unworn state of the green sward showed that this was +a spot little visited by the townspeople. + +"We have stumbled on the right place," said the young gentleman, with an +assumption of coolness. "It's a pity the thing can't be done properly, +with seconds and all that." And he proceeded to take off his doublet. + +I was sobered by the time spent in walking to the place, so I said, +"It's not too late. Monsieur, if you are willing to apologize." + +"I apologize! Death of my life! You pile insult on insult." + +"I assure you, it is you who have been the insulter." + +He laughed in a way that revived my heat, and asked, "Swords alone, or +swords and daggers?" + +"As you please." By this time I had cast off my own doublet. + +"Rapiers and daggers, then," he said, and flung away his scabbard and +sheath. I saw the flash of my own weapons a moment later, and ere I had +time for a second thought on the seriousness of this event--my first +fight in earnest--he was keeping me busy to parry his point and watch +his dagger at the same time. I was half-surprised at my own success in +turning away his blade, but after I had guarded myself from three or +four thrusts, I took to mind that offence is the best defence, and +ventured a lunge, which he stopped with his dagger only in the nick of +time to save his breast. His look of being almost caught gave me +encouragement, making me realize I had received good enough lessons from +my father and Blaise Tripault to enable me to practise with confidence. +So I pushed the attack, but never lost control of myself nor became +reckless. It was an inspiriting revelation to me to find that I could +indeed use my head intelligently, and command my motions so well, at a +time of such excitement. We grew hot, perspired, breathed fast and loud, +kept our muscles tense, and held each other with glittering eyes as we +moved about on firm but springy feet. We must have fought very swiftly, +for the ring of the steel sounded afterward in my ears as if it had been +almost continuous. How long we kept it up, I do not exactly know. We +came to panting more deeply, and I felt a little tired, and once or +twice a mist was before my eyes. At last he gave me a great start by +running his point through my shirt sleeve above the elbow. Feeling +myself so nearly stung, I instinctively made a long swift thrust: up +went his dagger, but too late: my blade passed clear of it, sank into +his left breast. He gave a sharp little cry, and fell, and the hole I +had made in his shirt was quickly circled with crimson. + +"Victory!" thought I, with an exultant sense of prowess. I had fleshed +my sword and brought low my man! But, as I looked down at him and he lay +perfectly still, another feeling arose. I knelt and felt for his heart: +my new fear was realized. With bitter regret I gazed at him. All the +anger and scorn had gone out of his face: it was now merely the handsome +boyish face of a youth like myself, expressing only a manly pride and +the pain and surprise of his last moment. It was horrible to think that +I had stopped this life for ever, reduced this energy and beauty to +eternal silence and nothingness. A weakness overwhelmed me, a profound +pity and self-reproach. + +I heard a low ejaculation behind me, which made me start. But I saw it +was only Nicolas, who, in spite of my orders, had stolen after me, in +terror of what might happen. + +"Oh, heaven!" he groaned, as he stared with pale face and scared eyes at +the prostrate form. "You have killed him, Monsieur Henri." + +"Yes. It is a great pity. After all, he merely thought a little too well +of himself and was a little inconsiderate of other people's feelings. +But who is not so, more or less? Poor young man!" + +"Ah, but think of us, Monsieur Henri--think of yourself, I mean! We had +better be going, or you will have to answer for this." + +"That is so. We must settle with the landlord and get away from this +town before this gentleman is missed." + +"And alas! you arranged to stay all night. The landlord will be sure to +smell something. Come, I beg of you: there's not a moment to lose. Think +what there's to do--the bag to fetch down, the horse and mule to saddle. +We shall be lucky if the officers aren't after us before we're out of +the town." + +"You are right.--Poor young man! At least I will cover his face with his +doublet before I go." + +"I'll do that, Monsieur. You put on your own doublet, and save time." + +I did so. As Nicolas ran past me with the slain man's doublet, something +fell out of the pocket of it. This proved to be a folded piece of paper, +like a letter, but with no name outside. I picked it up. Fancying it +might give a clue to my victim's identity, and as the seal was broken, I +opened it. There was some writing, in the hand of a woman,--two lines +only: + +"_For heaven's sake and pity's, come to me at once. My life and honour +depend on you alone._" + +As the missive was without address, so was it without signature. It must +have been delivered by some confidential messenger who knew the +recipient, and yet by whom a verbal message was either not thought +expedient, or required to be confirmed by the written appeal. The +recipient must be familiar with the sender's handwriting. The note +looked fresh and clean, and therefore must have been very lately +received. + +"Come, Monsieur Henri," called Nicolas, breaking in upon my whirling +thoughts. "Why do you wait?--What is the matter? What do you see on that +paper?" + +"And this," I answered, though of course Nicolas could not understand +me, "is the business he was on! This is why he had need to put ground +behind him. He was going on to-night. He must have stopped only to +refresh his horses." + +"Yes, certainly, but what of that? What has his business to do with us?" + +"I have prevented his carrying it out. My God!--a woman's life and +honour--a woman who relies on him--and now she will wait for him in +vain! At this very moment she may be counting the hours till he should +arrive!--What have I done?" + +[Illustration: "'AND NOW SHE WILL WAIT FOR HIM IN VAIN!'"] + +"You, Monsieur? It's not your fault if he chose to get into a quarrel +with you. He must have valued his business highly if he dared risk it in +a fight." + +"Of course he thought from my manner that he could have his own way with +me. There would be no loss of time--his horses needed rest, for greater +speed in the long run. He knew what he was about--there's no doubt of +his haste. 'Come to me at once. My life and honour depend on you alone.' +And while she waits and trusts, I step in and cut off her only +hope!--not this poor young fellow's life alone, but hers also, Nicolas! +It mustn't be so--not if I can any way help it. I see now what I am +called upon to do." + +"What is that, Monsieur Henri?" asked Nicolas despairingly. + +"To carry out this gentleman's task which I have interrupted--to go in +his stead to the assistance of this lady, whoever and wherever she may +be!" + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +WHERE THE LADY WAS + + +"Very well, Monsieur," said Nicolas after a pause, in a tone which meant +anything but very well. "But first you will have enough to do to save +yourself. This gentleman will soon be missed. He was in haste to go on, +as you say. His servant will be wondering why he delays, and the +landlord will become curious about his bill." + +"Yes, but I must think a moment. Where is this poor lady? Who is the +gentleman? There may be another letter--a clue of some sort." + +I hurriedly examined the young man's pockets, but found nothing written. +His purse I thought best to leave where it was: to whom, indeed, could I +entrust it with any chance of its being more honestly dealt with than by +those who should find the body? The innkeeper and the gentleman's +servant, with their claims for payment, would see to that. But I kept +the lady's note. + +"Well," said I, "I must have a talk with the valet. I must find out +where this gentleman was going, for that must be the place where the +lady is." + +"But the valet doesn't know where the gentleman was going. He was +talking to me about that in the stables." + +"That's very strange--not to know his master's destination." + +"He knows very little of his master's affairs: he was hired only +yesterday, at Sable. The gentleman was staying at the inn there. +Yesterday he engaged this man, and said he was going to travel on at the +end of the week. But this morning he suddenly made up his mind to start +at once, and came off without saying where he was bound for. Until I +told him, the man didn't know that the name of this town was La Fleche." + +"And what else did he tell you?" + +"That's all. He was only grumbling about having to come away so +unexpectedly, and being so in the dark about his master's plans." + +"You're sure he didn't say what caused his master to change his mind and +start at once?" + +"He said nothing more, Monsieur." + +"Did he mention his master's name?" + +"No, we didn't get as far as that. It was only his desire to complain to +somebody, that made him speak to me; and I was too busy with the horses +to say much in reply." + +"Then you didn't give my name--to him or any one else here?" + +"Not to a soul, Monsieur." + +"That's fortunate. Well, we must be attending to our business. I will +pay the landlord, and give him some reason for riding on. While you are +getting the animals ready, I will try to sound this valet a little +deeper. Come." + +Without another look behind, we hastened back to the inn. + +"It's a fine evening," said I to the landlord, "and that gentleman I saw +here awhile ago has given me the notion of riding on while the air is +cool." I spoke as steadily as I could, and I suppose if the landlord +detected any want of ease he put it down to the embarrassment of +announcing a change of mind. In any case, he was not slow to compute the +reckoning, nor I to pay it. Then, after seeing my bag and cloak brought +down, I went in search of the young gentleman's valet. I found him in +the kitchen, half way through a bottle of wine. + +"Your master has not yet ridden on, then?" said I, dropping carelessly +on the bench opposite him. + +"No, Monsieur," he replied unsuspectingly. He seemed more like a country +groom than a gentleman's body servant. + +"I have decided to go on this evening, in imitation of him," I +continued. + +"Then your servant had better come back and finish his supper. It's +getting cold yonder. Just as he was going to begin eating, he thought of +something, and went out, and hasn't returned yet." + +It was, alas, true. In my excitement I had forgotten all about Nicolas's +supper, which he had left in order to see if I wanted my cloak for the +cool of the evening. + +"I sent him on an errand," I replied. "He shall sup doubly well later. +As I was about to say, your master--by the way, if I knew his name I +could mention him properly: we have so far neglected to give each other +our names." + +"Monsieur de Merri is my master's name, as far as I know it. I have been +with him only since yesterday." He spoke in a somewhat disgruntled way, +as if not too well satisfied with his new place. + +"So I have heard." I said. "And it seems you were hustled off rather +sooner than you expected, this morning." + +"My master did change his mind suddenly. Yesterday he said he wouldn't +leave Sable till the end of the week." + +"Yes; but of course when he received the letter--" I stopped, as if not +thinking worth while to finish, and idly scrutinized the floor. + +"What letter, Monsieur?" inquired the fellow, after a moment. + +"Why, the letter that made him change his mind. Didn't you see the +messenger?" + +"Oh, and did that man bring a letter, then?" + +"Certainly. How secretive your master is. The man from--from--where +_did_ he come from, anyhow?" + +"A man came to see my master at Sable early this morning--the only man I +know of. I heard him say that he had ridden all the way from Montoire, +following my master from one town to another." + +"Yes, that is the man, certainly," said I in as careless a manner as +possible, fearful lest my face should betray the interest of this +revelation to me. "Well, I think I will go and see what has become of my +servant. When you have finished that bottle, drink another to me." I +tossed him a silver piece, and sauntered out. Nicolas was fastening the +saddle girth of my horse in the yard. An ostler was attending to the +mule. The innkeeper was looking on. I asked him about the different +roads leading from the place, and by the time I had got this information +all was ready. We mounted, I replied to the landlord's adieu, threw a +coin to the ostler, and clattered out under the archway. From the square +I turned South to cross the Loir, passing not far from the place where, +surrounded by trees and bushes, the body of my adversary must still be +lying. + +"Poor young man!" said I. "Once we get safe off, I hope they will find +him soon." + +"They will soon be seeking him, at least," replied Nicolas. "Before you +came out of the kitchen, the landlord was wondering to the ostler what +had become of him." + +"As he was to ride on at once, his absence will appear strange. Well, +I'm not sorry to think he will be found before he lies long exposed. The +authorities, no doubt, will take all measures to find out who he is and +notify his people." + +"And to find the person who left him in that state," said Nicolas +fearfully. + +"Well, I have a start, and shall travel as fast as my horse can safely +carry me." + +"But wherever you go, Monsieur, the law will in time come up with you." + +"I have thought of that; and now listen. This is what you are to do. We +shall come very soon to a meeting of roads. You will there turn to the +right--" + +"And leave you, Monsieur Henri?" + +"Yes, it is necessary for my safety." + +"And you will go on to Paris alone?" + +"I am not going to Paris immediately--at least, I shall not go by way of +Le Mans and Chartres, as I had intended. We have already turned our +backs on that road, when we left the square in front of the inn. I shall +go by way of Vendome." Montoire--where the letter had evidently come +from and where therefore the lady probably was--lay on the road to +Vendome. + +"And I, Monsieur?" + +"You are to go back to La Tournoire, but not by the way we have come +over. This road to the right that you will soon take leads first to +Jarze, and there you will find a road to the West which will bring you +to our own highway not two leagues from home." I repeated these +directions as we left La Fleche behind us, till they seemed firmly +lodged in Nicolas's head. "I don't know how long it will take you to do +this journey," I added, "nor even when you may expect to reach Jarze. +You mustn't overdo either the mule or yourself. Stop at the first +country inn and get something to eat, before it is too late at night to +be served. Go on to-night as far as you think wise. It may be best, or +necessary, to sleep in some field or wood, not too near the road, as I +shall probably do toward the end of the night." + +"I shall certainly do that, Monsieur. It is a fine night." + +"When you get to La Tournoire, you are to tell my father that I am going +on without an attendant, but by way of Vendome. You needn't say anything +about what you suppose my purpose to be: you needn't repeat what you +heard me say about that lady, or the letter: you aren't to mention the +lady or the letter at all." + +"I understand, Monsieur Henri; but I do hope you will keep out of other +people's troubles. You have enough of your own now, over this unlucky +duel." + +"It's to get me out of that trouble that you are going home. Give my +father a full account of the duel. Tell him the gentleman insulted my +religion as well as myself; that he tried my patience beyond endurance. +My father will understand, I trust. And say that I shall leave it to him +to solicit my pardon of the King. I know he would prefer I should place +the matter all in his hands." + +"Yes, to be sure, Monsieur Henri. And of course to a gentleman who has +served him so well, the King can't refuse anything." + +"He is scarce likely to refuse him that favour, at any rate. My father +will know just what to do; just whom to make his petition through, and +all that. Perhaps he will go to Paris himself about it; or he may send +Blaise Tripault with letters to some of his old friends who are near the +King. But he will do whatever is best. The pardon will doubtless be +obtained before I reach Paris, as I am going by this indirect way and +may stop for awhile in the neighbourhood of Vendome. But I shall +eventually turn up at the inn we were bound for, in the Rue St. Honore." + +"Yes, Monsieur, and may God land you there safe and sound!" + +"Tell my father that the only name by which I know my antagonist is +Monsieur de Merri. Perhaps he belonged to Montoire; at any rate, he was +acquainted there." + +We soon reached the place where the roads diverge. I took over my +travelling bag and cloak from Nicolas's mule to my horse, hastily +repeated my directions in summary form, supplied him with money, and +showed him his road, he very disconsolate at parting, and myself little +less so. As night was falling, and so much uncertainty lay over my +immediate future, the trial of our spirits was the greater. However, as +soon as he was moving on his way, I turned my horse forward on mine, and +tried, by admiring the stars, to soften the sense of my loneliness and +danger. + +I began to forget the peril of my present situation by thinking of the +affair I had undertaken. In the first place, how to find the lady? All I +knew of her was that she was probably at Montoire, that she had been +associated in some way with Monsieur de Merri, and that she now thought +herself in imminent danger. And I had in my possession a piece of her +handwriting, which, however, I should have to use very cautiously if at +all. There was, indeed, little to start with toward the task of finding +her out, but, as Montoire could not be a large place, I need not +despair. I would first, I thought, inquire about Monsieur de Merri and +what ladies were of his acquaintance. If Monsieur de Merri himself was +of Montoire, and had people living there, my presence would be a great +risk. I could not know how soon the news of his death might reach them +after my own arrival at the place, nor how close a description would be +given of his slayer--for there was little doubt that the innkeeper would +infer the true state of affairs on the discovery of the body. The dead +man's people would be clamorous for justice and the officers would be on +their mettle. Even if I might otherwise tarry in Montoire unsuspected, +my insinuating myself into the acquaintance of one of Monsieur de +Merri's friends would in itself be a suspicious move. The more I +considered the whole affair, the more foolish seemed my chosen course. +And yet I could not bear to think of that unknown lady in such great +fear, with perhaps none to aid her: though, indeed, since none but +Monsieur de Merri could save her honour and life, how could I do so? +Well, I could offer my services, at least; perhaps she meant she had +nobody else on whose willingness she could count; perhaps she really +could make as good use of me as of him. But on what pretext could I +offer myself? How could I account to her for my knowledge of her affairs +and for Monsieur de Merri's inability to come to her? To present myself +as his slayer would not very well recommend my services to her. Would +she, indeed, on any account accept my services? And even if she did, was +I clever enough to get her out of the situation she was in, whatever +that might be? Truly the whole case was a cloud. Well, I must take each +particular by itself as I came to it; be guided by circumstance, and +proceed with delicacy. The first thing to do was to find out who the +lady was; and even that could not be done till I got to Montoire, which, +being near Vendome, must be at least two days' journey from La Fleche. + +As I thought how much in the dark was the business I had taken on +myself, my mind suddenly reverted to the first of the monk's three +maxims that Blaise Tripault had given me, which now lay folded in my +pocket, close to the lady's note. + +"_Never undertake a thing unless you can see your way to the end of +it._" + +I could not help smiling to think how soon chance had led me to violate +this excellent rule. But I am not likely to be confronted again by such +circumstances, thought I, and this affair once seen through, I shall be +careful; while the other maxims, being more particular, are easier to +obey, and obey them I certainly will. + +I rode on till near midnight, and then, for the sake of the horse as +well as the rider, I turned out of the road at a little stream, +unsaddled among some poplar trees, and lay down, with my travelling bag +for pillow, and my cloak for bed and blanket. The horse, left to his +will, chose to lie near me; and so, in well-earned sleep, we passed the +rest of the night. + +The next morning, when we were on the road again, I decided to exchange +talk with as many travellers as possible who were going my way, in the +hope of falling in with one who knew Montoire. At a distance from the +place, I might more safely be inquisitive about Monsieur de Merri and +his friendships than at Montoire itself. The news of what had happened +at La Fleche would not have come along the road any sooner than I had +done, except by somebody who had travelled by night and had passed me +while I slept. In the unlikelihood of there being such a person, I could +speak of Monsieur de Merri without much danger of suspicion. But even if +there was such a person, and the news had got ahead, nobody could be +confident in suspecting me. I was not the only young gentleman of my +appearance, mounted on a horse like mine, to be met on the roads that +day. And besides, I was no longer attended by a servant on a mule, as I +had been at La Fleche. So I determined to act with all freedom, accost +whom I chose, and speak boldly. + +Passing early through Le Lude, I breakfasted at last, and talked with +various travellers, both on the road and at the inn there, but none of +them showed any such interest, when I casually introduced the name of +Montoire, as a dweller of that place must have betrayed. To bring in the +name of the town was easy enough. As thus:--in the neighbourhood of Le +Lude one had only to mention the fine chateau there, and after admiring +it, to add: "They say there is one very like it, at some other town +along this river--I forget which--is it Montoire?--or La Chartre?--I +have never travelled this road before." A man of Montoire, or who knew +that town well, would have answered with certainty, and have added +something to show his acquaintance there. The chateau of Le Lude served +me in this manner all the way to Vaas, where there is a great church, +which answered my purpose thence to Chateau du Loir. But though I threw +out my conversational bait to dozens of people, of all conditions, not +one bite did I get anywhere on the road between Le Lude and La Chartre. + +It was evening when I arrived at La Chartre, and I was now thirteen +leagues from La Fleche, thanks to having journeyed half the previous +night. Anybody having left La Fleche that morning would be satisfied +with a day's journey of nine leagues to Chateau du Loir, the last +convenient stopping-place before La Chartre. So I decided to stay at La +Chartre for the night, and give my horse the rest he needed. + +At the inn I talked to everybody I could lay hold of, dragging in the +name of Montoire, all to no purpose, until I began to think the +inhabitants of Montoire must be the most stay-at-home people, and their +town the most unvisited town, in the world. In this manner, in the +kitchen after supper, I asked a fat bourgeois whether the better place +for me to break my next day's journey for dinner would be Troo or +Montoire. + +"I know no better than you," he replied with a shrug. + +"Pardon, Monsieur; I think you will find the better inn at Montoire," +put in a voice behind my shoulder. I turned and saw, seated on a stool +with his back to the wall, a bright-looking, well-made young fellow who +might, from his dress, have been a lawyer's clerk, or the son of a +tradesman, but with rather a more out-of-doors appearance than is +usually acquired in an office or shop. + +"Ah," said I, "you know those towns, then?" + +"I live at Montoire," said he, interestedly, as if glad to get into +conversation. "There is a fine public square there, you will see." + +"But it is rather a long ride before dinner, isn't it?" + +"Only about five leagues. I shall ride there for dinner to-morrow, at +all events." + +"You are returning home, then?" + +"Yes, Monsieur." + +"Have you been far away?" + +"That is as one may think," he replied after a moment's hesitation, +during which he seemed to decide it best to evade the question. His +travels were none of my business, and I cared not how secretive he might +be upon them. But to teach him a lesson in openness, I said: + +"I have travelled from Le Lude to-day." + +"And I too," said he, with his former interest. + +"I didn't see you at the inn there," said I. "You must have left early +this morning." + +"Yes, after arriving late last night. Yesterday evening I was at La +Fleche." + +I gave an inward start; but said quietly enough: "Ah?--and yet you talk +as if you had slept at Le Lude." + +"So I did. I travelled part of the night." + +"And arrived at Le Lude before midnight, perhaps?" + +"Yes, a little before. Luckily, the innkeeper happened to be up, and he +let me in." + +I breathed more freely. This young man must have left La Fleche before I +had: he could know nothing of the man slain. + +"There is a good inn at La Fleche," I said, to continue the talk. + +"No doubt. I stopped only a short while, at a small house at the edge of +the town. I was in some haste." + +"Then you will be starting early to-morrow?" + +"Yes, Monsieur." + +I resolved to be watchful and start at the same time. But lest he should +have other company, or something should interfere, I decided not to lose +the present opportunity. So I began forthwith: + +"I have met a gentleman who comes, I think, from Montoire, or at least +is acquainted there,--a Monsieur de Merri, of about my own age." + +The young fellow looked at me with a sudden sharpness of curiosity, +which took me back: but I did not change countenance, and he had +repossessed himself by the time he replied: + +"There is a Monsieur de Merri, who is about as old as you, but he does +not live at Montoire. He sometimes comes there." + +Here was comfort, at least: I should not find myself among the dead +man's relations, seeking vengeance. + +"No doubt he has friends there?" I ventured. + +"No doubt, Monsieur," answered the young man, merely out of politeness, +and looking vague. + +"Probably he visits people in the neighbourhood," I tried again. + +"I cannot say," was the reply, still more absently given. + +"Or lives at the inn," I pursued. + +"It may be so." The young fellow was now glancing about the kitchen, as +if to rid himself of this talk. + +"Or perhaps he dwells in private lodgings when he is at Montoire," I +went on resolutely. + +"It might well be. There are private lodgings to be had there." + +"Do you know much of this Monsieur de Merri?" I asked pointblank, in +desperation. + +"I have seen him two or three times." + +"Where?" + +"Where? At Montoire, of course." The speaker, in surprise, scrutinized +me again with the keen look he had shown before. + +It was plain, from his manner, that he chose to be close-mouthed on the +subject of Monsieur de Merri. He was one of those people who generally +have a desire to talk of themselves and all their affairs, but who can +be suddenly very secretive on some particular matter or occasion. I saw +that I must give him up, for that time at least. Perhaps on the road +next day his unwillingness to be communicative about Monsieur de Merri +would have passed away. But meanwhile, what was the cause of that +unwillingness? Did he know, after all, what had occurred at La Fleche, +and had he begun to suspect me? I inwardly cursed his reticence, and +went soon to bed, that I might rise the earlier. + +But early as I rose, my young friend had beaten me. The ostler to whom I +described him said he had ridden off half-an-hour ago. In no very +amiable mood, I rode after him. Not till the forenoon was half spent, +did I catch up. He saluted me politely, and gave me his views of the +weather, but was not otherwise talkative. We rode together pleasantly +enough, but there was no more of that openness in him which would have +made me feel safe in resuming the subject of Monsieur de Merri. As we +approached noon and our destination, I asked him about the different +families of consequence living thereabouts, and he mentioned several +names and circumstances, but told me nothing from which I could infer +the possibility of danger to any of their ladies. It was toward mid-day +when we rode into the great square of Montoire, and found ourselves +before the inn of the Three Kings. + +I turned to take leave of my travelling companion, thinking that as he +belonged to this town he would go on to his own house. + +"I'm going to stop here for a glass of wine and to leave my horse +awhile," he said, noticing my movement. + +He followed me through the archway. A stout innkeeper welcomed me, saw +me dismount, and then turned to my young fellow-traveller, speaking with +good-natured familiarity: + +"Ah, my child, so you are back safe after your journey. Let us see, how +long have you been away? Since Sunday morning--four days and a half. I +might almost guess where you've been, from the time--for all the secret +you make of it." + +The young man laughed perfunctorily, and led his horse to the stable +after the ostler who had taken mine. + +"A pleasant young man," said I, staying with the landlord. "He lives in +this town, he tells me." + +"Yes, an excellent youth. He owns his bit of land, and though his father +was a miller, his children may come near being gentlemen." + +I went into the kitchen, and ordered dinner. Presently my young man +entered and had his wine, which he poured down quickly. He then bowed to +me, and went away, like one who wishes to lose no time. + +Suddenly the whole probability of the case appeared to me in a flash. +Regardless of the wine before me, and of the dinner I had ordered, I +rose and followed him. + +I had put together his reticence about Monsieur de Merri, his having +been away from Montoire just four and a half days, the direction of his +journey, and his errand to be done immediately on returning. He must be +the messenger who had carried the lady's note to Sable, and he was now +going to report its delivery and, perhaps, Monsieur de Merri's answer. +If I could dog his steps unseen, he would lead me to the lady who was in +danger. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +WHO THE LADY WAS + + +By the time I was in the court-yard, the messenger was walking out of +the archway. By the time I was at the outer end of the archway, he was +well on his way toward one of the streets that go from the square. I +waited in the shelter of the archway till he had got into that +street--or road, I should say, for it soon leaves the town, proceeding +straight in a South-easterly direction for about half a league through +the country. As soon as he was out of the square, I was after him, +stepping so lightly I could scarce hear my own footfalls. He walked +rapidly, and as one who does not think of turning to look behind, a fact +which I observed with comfort. + +If he was indeed the messenger, he must have been content with a very +short rest for his horse after delivering the note to Monsieur de +Merri;--must have started from Sable as soon as, or little later than, +Monsieur de Merri himself, to be in La Fleche on the same evening that +gentleman arrived there, and to be out of it again before I was, as he +must have been if he reached Le Lude by midnight. Perhaps he was passing +through La Fleche at the very time the duel was going on; but the sum of +all was, that he could not know Monsieur de Merri was killed, and this I +felt to be fortunate for me. + +Another thought which I had while following him along the straight white +road that day, was that if the lady could command the services of this +able young fellow to bear a message so far, why could she not use him +directly for the saving of her life and honour? Evidently there was a +reason why mere zeal and ability would not suffice. Perhaps the +necessary service was one in which only a gentleman could be accepted. +But I feared rather that there might be some circumstance to make +Monsieur de Merri the only possible instrument; and my heart fell at +this, thinking what I had done. But I hoped for the best, and did not +lose sight of the young man ahead of me. + +After we had walked about twenty minutes, the road crossed a bridge and +rose to the gates of a chateau which had at one corner a very high old +tower. In front of the chateau, the road turned off sharply to the left. +A few small houses constituted such a village as one often sees huddled +about the feet of great castles. A drawbridge, which I could see between +the gate towers, indicated that the chateau and its immediate grounds +were surrounded by a moat. The messenger did not approach the gates, nor +did he follow the road to its turning. He disappeared down a lane to the +right. + +When I got to the lane, he had already passed out of it at the other +end. I hastened through, and caught sight of him in the open fields that +lay along the side wall of the chateau. Near the outer edge of the moat, +grew tangled bushes, and I noticed that he kept close to these, as if to +be out of sight from the chateau. At a distance ahead, skirting the rear +of the chateau enclosure, stretched the green profile of what appeared +to be a deep forest. It was this which my unconscious guide was +approaching. I soon reached the bushes by the fosse, and used them for +my own concealment in following him. When he came to the edge of the +forest, at a place near a corner of the wall environing the chateau +grounds, what did he do but stop before the first tree--a fine oak--and +proceed to climb up it? I crouched among the bushes, and looked on. + +When he gained the boughs he worked his way out on one that extended +toward the moat. From that height he could see across the wall. He took +a slender pole that had been concealed among the branches, tied a +handkerchief thereto, and ran it out so that the bit of white could be +seen against the leaves. + +"Oho! a signal!" said I to myself. + +Keeping the handkerchief in its position, he waited. I know not just +what part of an hour went by. I listened to the birds and sometimes to +the soft sound of a gentle breeze among the tree tops of the forest. + +At last the handkerchief suddenly disappeared, and my man came quickly +down the tree. Watching the chateau beyond the walls, he had evidently +seen the person approach for whom he had hung out his signal. He now +stood waiting under the tree. My heart beat fast. + +I heard a creaking sound, and saw a little postern open in the wall, +near the tree. A girl appeared, ran nimbly across a plank that spanned +the moat, and into the arms of my young man. + +Could this, then, be the woman whose life and honour was in peril? No, +for though she had some beauty, I could see at a glance that she was a +dependent. Moreover, her face shone gaily at sight of the messenger, and +she gave herself to his embrace with smothered laughter. But a moment +later, she attended seriously, and with much concern, to what he had to +say, of which I could hear nothing. I then saw what the case was: this +was a serving-maid whom the endangered lady had taken into confidence, +and who had impressed her lover into service to carry that lady's +message. The lady herself must be in that chateau,--perhaps a prisoner. +My first step must be to find out who were the dwellers in the chateau, +and as much of their affairs as the world could tell me. + +The interview between the two young people was not long. It ended in +another embrace; the girl ran back over the plank, waved her hand at her +lover, and disappeared, the postern door closing after her. The young +man, with a last tender look at the door, hastened back as he had come. +I had to crawl suddenly under some low bushes to avoid his sight, making +a noise which caused him to stop within six feet of me. But I suppose he +ascribed the sound to some bird or animal, for he soon went on again. + +I lay still for some time, being under no further necessity of observing +him. I then walked back to the inn at Montoire at a leisurely pace. +Looking into the stables when I arrived, I saw that the messenger's +horse was gone. He lived, as I afterwards learned from the innkeeper, on +another road than that which led to the chateau. I suppose he had chosen +to go afoot to the chateau for the sake of easier concealment. + +The innkeeper was looking amazed and injured, at my having gone away and +let my dinner spoil. + +"I was taken with a sudden sickness," I explained. "There's nothing like +a walk in the fresh air when the stomach is qualmish. I am quite well +now. I'll have another dinner, just what I ordered before." + +As this meant my paying for two dinners, the landlord was soon restored +to good-nature. He was a cheerful, hearty soul, and as communicative as +I could desire. + +"That is a strong chateau about half a league yonder," I said to him, as +I sipped his excellent white wine. + +"Yes, the Chateau de Lavardin," he replied. "Strong?--yes, indeed." + +"Who lives there?" + +"The Count de Lavardin." + +"What sort of man is he?" + +"What sort? Well!--an old man, for one thing,--or growing old. Or maybe +you mean, what does he look like?" + +"Yes, of course." + +"A lean old grey wolf, I have heard him likened to--without offence, of +course. Yes, he is a thin old man, but of great strength, for all that." + +"Is he a good landlord?" + +"Oh, he is not my landlord," said the innkeeper, looking as if he would +have added "Thank God!" but for the sake of prudence. "No; his estate is +very large, but it extends in the other direction from Montoire." + +"Is he a pleasant neighbour, then?" + +"Oh, I have no fault to find, for my part. One mustn't believe all the +grumblers. You may hear it said of him that his smile is more frightful +than another man's rage. But people will say things, you know, when they +think they have grievances." + +I fancied that the innkeeper shared this opinion which he attributed to +the grumblers, and took satisfaction in getting it expressed, though too +cautious to father it himself. + +"Then he has no great reputation for benevolence?" + +"Oh, I don't say that. We must take what we hear, with a grain of salt. +He is certainly one of the great noblemen of this neighbourhood; +certainly a brave man. You will hear silly talk, of course: how that he +is a man whose laugh makes one think of dungeon chains and the rack. But +some people will give vent to their envy of the great." + +I shuddered inwardly, to think that my undertaking might bring me across +the path of a man as sinister and formidable as these bits of +description seemed to indicate. + +"What family has he?" I asked, trying the more to seem indifferent as I +came closer to the point. + +"No family. His children are all dead. Some foolish folk say he expected +too much of them, and tried to bring them up too severely, as if they +had been Spartans. But that is certainly a slander, for his eldest son +was killed in battle in the last civil war." + +"Then he has no daughter--or grand-daughter--or niece, perhaps?" + +"Not that I know of. Why do you ask, Monsieur?" + +"I thought I saw a lady at one of the windows," said I, inventing. + +"No doubt. It must have been his wife. She would be the only lady +there." + +"Oh, but this was surely a young lady," I said, clinging to my +preconceptions. + +"Certainly. His new wife is young. The children I spoke of were by his +first wife, poor woman! Oh, yes, his new wife is young--beautiful too, +they say." + +"And how do she and the Count agree together, being rather unevenly +matched?" + +"That is the question. Nobody sees much of their life. She never comes +out of the grounds of the chateau, except to church sometimes, when she +looks neither to the right nor to the left." + +"But who are her people, to have arranged her marriage with such a man?" + +"Oh. I believe she has no people. An orphan, whom he took out of a +convent. A gentlewoman, yes, but of obscure family." + +"I can't suppose she is very happy." + +"Who knows, Monsieur? They do say the old wolf--I mean the Count, +Monsieur,--we are sometimes playful in our talk here at Montoire,--they +say he is terribly jealous. They say that is why he keeps her so close. +Of course I know nothing of it.--You noticed, perhaps, that the moat was +full of water. The drawbridge is up half the time. One would suppose the +Civil wars were back again. To be sure, some people hint that there may +be another reason for all that: but I, for one, take no interest in +politics." + +"You mean the Count is thought to be one of those who are disaffected +toward the King?" + +"H-sh, Monsieur! We mustn't say such things. If idle whispers go around, +we can't help hearing them; but as for repeating them, or believing +them, that's another matter. I mention only what all can see--that the +Chateau de Lavardin is kept very much closed against company. The saying +is, that it's as hard to get into the Chateau de Lavardin nowadays as +into heaven. It's very certain, the Count has no welcome for strangers." + +And yet somehow I should have to get into the chateau, and obtain +private speech with the Countess,--for it must be she who had summoned +Monsieur de Merri. + +"In that case," said I, "they must have no visitors at all. But I recall +meeting a young gentleman the other day, who was acquainted with some +great family near Montoire, and, from certain things, I think it must be +this very Lavardin family. He was a Monsieur de Merri." + +"Ah, yes. He has stayed at this inn. It was here the Count met him, one +day when the Count was returning from the hunt. The Count was thirsty +and stopped to drink, and the young gentleman began to talk with him +about the hounds. At that time half the Count's pack were suffering from +a strange disease, which threatened the others. When the Count described +the disease, Monsieur de Merri said he knew all about it and could cure +it. The Count took him to the chateau, where he stayed a fortnight, for +you see, however jealous the count may be of his wife, he cares more for +his hounds. Monsieur de Merri cured them, and that is how he got +admission to the Chateau de Lavardin. But besides him and the red +Captain, there aren't many who can boast of that privilege." + +"The red Captain? Who is he?" + +"Captain Ferragant. He is a friend of the Count's, who comes to the +chateau sometimes and makes long visits there. Where he comes from, of +what he does when he is elsewhere, I cannot tell. He is at the chateau +now, I believe." + +"Why did you call him the red Captain?" + +"The people have given him that name. He has a great red splash down one +side of his face. They say it was caused by a burn." + +"Received in the wars, perhaps." + +"No doubt. He has fought under many banners, it is said. Some declare he +still keeps his company together, always ready for the highest bidder; +but if that's true, I don't know where he keeps it, or how he does so +without a loss when not at the wars. It is true, he brings a suite of +sturdy fellows when he comes to Lavardin; but not enough to make what +you would call a company." + +"Perhaps he has made his fortune and retired." + +"He's not an old man, Monsieur, though he is the friend of the Count. He +is at the prime of life, I should say. A tall, strong man. He would be +handsome but for the red stamp on his face. He has great influence over +the Count. They drink, hunt, and play together. In many ways they are +alike. The red Captain, too, has a smile that some people are afraid of, +and a laugh that is merciless, but they are broad and bold, if you can +understand what I mean,--not like the wily chuckle of the Count. He has +big, ferocious eyes, too; while the Count's are small and half-closed. +If people will fear those two men because of their looks, I can't for my +life say which is to be feared the more." + +"A pleasant pair for anybody to come in conflict with," said I, as +lightly as I could. + +"Yes, Monsieur, and seeing that strangers are so unwelcome there, you +will do well to pass by the Chateau de Lavardin without stopping to +exchange compliments." With a jocular smile, the innkeeper went about +his business, while I finished my dinner with a mind full of misgivings. + +I rose from the table, left the inn, and walked back, by the straight +road of half a league, to Lavardin, pondering on the problem before me. +It was a natural feeling that I might come by an inspiration more +probably in the presence of the chateau than away from it. There was a +little cabaret in the village, in full sight of the chateau gates, and +just far enough back from the road to give room for two small tables in +front. At one of these tables a man was already sitting, so I took +possession of the other and called for a bottle of wine. I then sat +there, slowly sipping, with my eyes on the chateau, hoping that by +contemplation thereof, or perhaps by some occurrence thereabout, I might +arrive at some idea of how to proceed. The drawbridge was not up, but +the gates were closed. From where I sat, I could see the gate towers, a +part of the outer wall, the turreted top of the chateau itself beyond +the court, and the great high tower, which looked very ancient and +sombre. But the more I looked, the more nearly impossible it appeared +that I could devise means of getting into the place and to the ear of +the Countess. + +As I was gazing at the chateau, I had a feeling that the man at the +other table was gazing at me. I glanced at him, but seemed to have been +mistaken. He was looking absently at the sky over my head. I now took +thought of what a very silent, motionless, undemonstrative man this was. +He was thin and oldish, and of moderate stature, with a narrow face, +pale eyes, and a very long nose. He was dressed in dull brown cloth, and +was in all respects--save his length of nose--one of those persons of +whom nobody ever takes much note. And he in turn did not seem to take +much note of the world. He looked at the sky, the house roofs and the +road, but his thoughts did not appear to concern themselves with these +things, or with anything, unless with the wine which he, like myself, +sipped in a leisurely manner. + +I dismissed him from my attention, and resumed my observation of the +chateau. But nobody came nor went, the gates did not open, nothing +happened to give me an idea. When I looked again at the other table, the +long-nosed man was gone. It was as if he had simply melted away. + +"Who was the man sitting there?" I asked the woman of the cabaret. + +"I don't know, Monsieur. He arrived here this morning. I never saw him +before to-day." + +In the evening I went back to Montoire, no nearer the solution of my +problem than before. Nor did a sleepless night help me any: I formed a +dozen fantastic schemes, only to reject every one of them as impossible. +What made all this worse, was the consideration that time might be of +the utmost importance in the affairs of the imperilled lady. + +The next morning I went to view the chateau from other points than the +village cabaret. This time I took the way the messenger had led +me,--turned down the lane, and traversed the fields by the moat. I sat +where I had hid the day before; staring at the postern and the wall, +over which birds flew now and then, indicating that there was a garden +on the other side. Receiving no suggestion here, I took up my station at +the tree from which the messenger had shown the handkerchief. I thought +of climbing it, to see over the wall. But just as I had formed my +resolution, I happened to glance over the fields and see a man strolling +idly along near the edge of the moat. As he came nearer, I recognized +him as the long-nosed gentleman in the brown doublet and hose. + +He saw me, and gazed, in his absent way, with a momentary curiosity. +Angry at being caught almost in the act of spying out the land, I +hastened off, passing between the rear wall and the forest which grew +nearly to the moat, and to which the tree itself belonged. In this way, +I soon left my long-nosed friend behind, and came out on the opposite +side of the chateau. + +Here I found a hillock, from the top of which I could see more of the +chateau proper and the other contents of the great walled enclosure. I +sat for some time regarding them, but the towers, turrets, roofs, +windows, and tree tops engendered no project in my mind. + +Suddenly I heard a low, discreet cough behind me, and, looking around, +saw the long-nosed man standing not six feet away. + +The sight gave me a start, for I had neither heard nor seen him +approach, though the way I had come was within my field of vision. He +must have made a wide circle through the woods. + +His mild eyes were upon me. "Good morning, Monsieur," said he, in a dry, +small voice. + +"Good morning," said I, rather ungraciously. + +He came close to me, and said, with a faint look of amusement: + +"May I tell you what is your chief thought at present, Monsieur?" + +After a moment, I deemed it best to answer, "If you wish." + +"It is that you would give half the money in your purse to get into that +chateau yonder." + +At first I could only look astonishment. Then I considered it wise to +take his remark as a joke; accordingly I laughed, and asked, "How do you +know that?" + +"Oh, I have observed you yesterday and to-day. You have a very eloquent +countenance, Monsieur. Well, I don't blame you for wishing you could get +over those walls. I have been young myself: I know what an attraction a +pretty maid is." + +So he thought it was some love affair with a lady's maid that lay behind +the wish he had divined in me. I saw no reason to undeceive him; so I +merely said, "And what is all this to you, Monsieur?" + +"Hum!--that depends," he replied. "Tell me first, are you known to the +Count de Lavardin or his principal people--by sight, I mean?" + +"Neither by sight nor otherwise." + +"Good! Excellent!" said the man, looking really pleased. "I dared hope +as much, when the woman at the cabaret said you were a stranger. What is +all this to me? you ask. Well, as I have taken the liberty to read your +thoughts, I will be frank with you in regard to my own. I also have a +desire to see the inside of that chateau, and, as I haven't the honour +of the Count's acquaintance, and he is very suspicious of strangers, I +must resort to my devices. My reasons for wanting to be admitted yonder +are my own secret, but I assure you they won't conflict with yours. So, +as I have been studying you a little, and think you a gentleman to be +trusted, I propose that we shall help each other, as far as our object +is the same. In other words, Monsieur, if you will do as I say, I +believe we may both find ourselves freely admitted to the Chateau de +Lavardin before this day is over. Once inside, each shall go about his +purposes without any concern for the other. What do you think of it, +Monsieur?" + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +THE CHATEAU DE LAVARDIN + + +All that I could think was that, if genuine, the offer came as a most +unexpected piece of good luck, and that, if it was a trick, my +acceptance of it could not much add to the danger which attended my +purpose at best. In any case, this man already had me under scrutiny. +So, after some little display of surprise and doubt, I took him at his +word, inwardly reserving the right to draw back if I found myself +entering a trap. The man's very proposal involved craft as against the +master of the chateau, but toward me he seemed to be acting with the +utmost simplicity and honesty, so straightforward and free from +excessive protestation he was. + +He led me away to a quiet, secluded place by the riverside, out of sight +of the chateau, that we might talk the matter over in safety. And first +he asked me what I knew of the disposition and habits of the Count de +Lavardin. I told him as much as the innkeeper had told me. + +"Hum!" said he, reflectively; "it agrees with what I have heard. I have +been pumping people a little, in a harmless way. The first thing I +learned was the Count's churlish practice of closing his gates to +strangers, which forces us to use art in obtaining the hospitality we +are entitled to by general custom. So I had to discover some inclination +or hobby of the man's, that I could make use of to approach him. I don't +see how we can reach him through his love of dogs, without having +prepared ourselves with special knowledge and a fine hound or so to +attract his attention. As for his jealousy, it would be too hazardous to +play upon that: besides, I shouldn't like to cook up a tale about his +wife, unless put to it." + +"Monsieur, don't speak of such a thing," I said indignantly. + +"No, it wouldn't do. I can't think of a better plan than the one that +first occurred to me. As it required a confederate, I put it aside. But +when I observed you yesterday regarding the chateau so wistfully, I said +to myself, 'No doubt heaven has sent this young man to help me, and that +I in turn may help him.' But I waited to make sure, watching you last +night and this morning till I was convinced of your desire to get into +the chateau." + +It was a surprise to me to learn that I had been watched, but I took it +coolly. + +"The plan I had thought of," he went on, "required that my confederate +should be unknown to the Count and those near him. When I find that you, +who are anxious for your own reasons to enter the chateau, fulfil that +requirement, I can only think the more that heaven has brought us +together. It is more than heaven usually does for one." + +"But what else does your plan require of me?" I asked, impatient to know +what must be faced. + +"You play chess, of course?" was his interrogative answer. + +"A little," said I, wondering what that had to do with the case. + +"Then all is fair ahead of us. Luckily. I play rather well myself. As I +said just now, I have been nosing among the people--nosing is a good +word in my case, isn't it?"--he pointed to his much-extended +proboscis--"I have been nosing about to learn the Count's ruling +passions and so forth. When you have anybody to hoodwink, or obtain +access to without creating suspicion, find out what are his likings and +preoccupations: be sure there will be something there of which you can +avail yourself. From the village priest I learned that, along with his +fondness for hunting and drinking and the lower forms of gaming, the +Count has a taste for more intellectual amusements, and chiefly for the +game of chess. He is a most excellent player, and doesn't often find a +worthy antagonist. His bosom friend, one Captain Ferragant, who is now +living at the chateau, has no skill at chess, so the Count has been put +to sending for this priest to come and play a game now and then, but the +Count beats him too easily for any pleasure and the result of their +games is that the Count only curses the rarity of good chess-players." + +"And so you think of proposing a game with him?" + +"Not exactly," said the long-nosed man, with a faint smile at my +simplicity. "An obscure man like me, travelling without a servant, +doesn't propose games to a great nobleman, at the great nobleman's own +gates. The great nobleman may condescend to invite, but the obscure +traveller may not presume to offer himself,--not, at least, without +creating wonder and some curiosity as to his motives. No; that would be +too direct, moreover. It would suggest that I had been inquisitive about +him, to have learned that he is fond of chess. I may tell you that the +Count has his reasons for imagining that strangers may come trying to +get access to him, who have taken pains to learn something of his ways +beforehand. He has his reasons for suspecting every stranger who seeks +to enter his gates. No; we must neither show any knowledge of him, more +than his name, nor any desire to get into his house. We must play upon +his hobby without openly appealing to it. That is why two of us are +necessary. This is what we will do." + +I listened with great interest, surprised to discover what acuteness of +mind was hidden behind the pale, meek eyes and un-expressive pasty +countenance of this man with the long nose. + +"In an hour or so from now," he said, "I shall be sitting before the +cabaret, where you saw me yesterday. You will come there, from wandering +about the fields, and we will greet each other as having met casually on +our walks this morning--as indeed we actually have met. You will sit +down to refresh yourself with a bottle of wine, and we shall get into +conversation, like the strangers that we are to each other. The people +of the cabaret will hear us, more or less, and the porter at the chateau +gates will doubtless observe us. I will presently lead the talk to the +subject of chess. You will profess to be ardently devoted to the game. I +will show an equally great passion for it. We will express much regret +that we have no chessmen with us, and will inquire if any can be +obtained in the village. I know already that none can be: the priest +once owned a set, but he let the village children use them as toys and +they are broken up. Well, then, rather than lose the opportunity of +encountering a first-class player, you will suggest that we try to +borrow chessmen from the owner of that great chateau, who must surely +possess such things, as no great house is ever without them. You will +thereupon write a note to the Count, saying we are two gentlemen who +have met on our travels, and both claiming to be skilled chess-players, +and hating to part without a trial of prowess, but lacking chessmen, we +take upon ourselves to ask if he may have such a thing as a set which he +will allow us the use of for half a day; and so forth. We will bid the +woman at the cabaret take this note to the porter; and then we have but +to await the result." + +"And what will that be?" + +"We shall see when it comes," said the man tranquilly. I know not +whether he really felt the serene confidence he showed; but he seemed to +be going on the sure ground of past experience. "It will be necessary to +give names and some account of ourselves, no doubt, before all is done. +We shall not be expected to know anything of each other, having only met +as travellers so recently. To the Count I will call myself Monsieur de +Pepicot, a poor gentleman of Amiens. As for you, is there any reason why +you shouldn't use your own name? When you want to deceive anybody, it is +well to be strictly truthful as far as your object will permit." + +"The only reason is, that I may get into the Count's bad graces by what +I may do in his house, and it would be better if he didn't know where to +look for me afterwards." + +"Well, there's something in that. The Count is not a forgiving man. And +yet, as to his power of revenge, I know not--Well, do as you please." + +"Oh, devil take it, I'll go under my own name, let come what may! I +don't like the idea of masquerading." + +"A brave young gentleman! Then there's no more to be said. When we are +inside the chateau, it will be each of us for himself, though of course +we must keep up the comedy of wishing to play chess. Meet me by chance +at the cabaret, then, in about an hour." + +Without any more ado, he left me. Coming forth from the concealed place +a minute later, I saw him strolling along the river, looking at the +fields and the sky, as if nothing else were on his mind. I presently +imitated him, but went in another direction. In due time I made my way +to the cabaret, and there he was, at the table where I had first seen +him. + +We spoke to each other as had been arranged, and easily carried the +conversation to the desired point, mostly in the hearing of the woman of +the cabaret as she sat knitting by the door. When it came to writing the +note, the long-nosed man tore a leaf of paper out of his pocket book, +and had pen and ink fetched from his lodging over the cabaret; I then +composed our request in as courteous phrases as I thought suitable. The +woman herself carried the note to the chateau gates, and we saw a grated +wicket open, and a scowling fellow show his face there, who questioned +her, glanced at us with no friendly look, took the note, and closed the +wicket. We waited half an hour or so, sipping our wine and talking +carelessly, till I imagined the long-nosed man was becoming a little +doubtful. But just as he was losing his placidity so far as to cross one +leg over another, the chateau gate opened, and a heavy, dark-browed +fellow with the appearance rather of a soldier than of a servant, came +out, and over to us, scrutinizing us keenly as he approached. He asked +if we were the gentlemen who had written to borrow a set of chessmen. +Being so informed, he said: + +"Monsieur the Count, my master, begs to be excused from sending his +chessmen to you, but if you will come to them he will be glad to judge +of your playing; and perhaps to offer the winner a bout with himself." + +We took half a minute to evince our pleased surprise, our sense of +favour, and so forth, at this courteous invitation,--and then we +followed the servant to the chateau. It was amusing to see how +innocently, decorously, and consciously of unexpected honour my +long-nosed friend walked through the gateway, and gazed with childlike +admiration around the court-yard and the grey facade of the chateau +confronting us. + +A few wide steps led up to the arched door, which admitted us to a large +hall plentifully furnished with tables, benches, and finely-carved +chairs. It was panelled in oak and hung with arms, boars' heads, and +other trophies. At the upper end of a long table, the one leaning +forward from a chair at the head, the other from the bench at the side, +lounged two men, whom I recognized instantly from the descriptions of +the innkeeper as if from painted portraits. They were the Count de +Lavardin and Captain Ferragant. + +Yes, there was the "lean old grey wolf," grey not only in his bristly +hair and short pointed beard, but even in the general hue of his wizen +face; grey as to the little eyes that peered out between their narrowed +slits; grey even, on this occasion, as to his velvet doublet and +breeches. Though his face was wizen, the leanness of his body had no +appearance of weakness, but rather every sign of strength. I noticed +that his fingers seemed to possess great crunching power, and there was +always on his face the faint beginning of a smile which, I thought, +would heighten into glee when those fingers were in the act of +strangling somebody. + +As for the Captain, there was indeed a great blotch of deep red across +his cheek; he was a large, powerful fellow, with a bold, insolent face, +and fierce, pitiless eyes. To make his sobriquet the fitter, he wore a +suit of crimson, very rich and ornate. His beard and hair, however, were +black. + +"You are welcome, gentlemen," said the Count, in a harsh, thin voice. +"From what part do you come?" + +"From different parts," said my long-nosed companion. "We have only met +as strangers going opposite ways. I am Monsieur de Pepicot, of the +neighbourhood of Amiens, travelling to Angers to see some kinsfolk." + +The Count turned to me, and I recited my name and place, adding that I +was going to Paris, to see a little of the world, and therefore +journeying somewhat indirectly. + +"And behold here Monsieur the Captain Ferragant, who comes from +Burgundy," said the Count, "so that we have North, West, and East all +represented." + +Captain Ferragant bowed as politeness required, but he went no further. +He did not seem to relish our being there. His look was rather +disdainful, I thought, as if we were nobodies unfit for the honour of +his company. And very soon, while the Count was saying we must stay to +dinner, as there was not time for a game of chess before, the Captain +walked away and out of the hall. Seeing that we were to be his guests +for the day, the Count had us shown to a rather remote chamber up two +flights of stairs, where water was brought, and where we were left alone +together. The chamber looked out on a small part of the garden at the +rear of the chateau. + +"Well," said I, washing my hands, "you have played the magician. It has +been as easy as walking, to get into the chateau." + +"Will it be easy to get out again, when our business is done, I wonder?" +replied Monsieur de Pepicot, gazing out of the window at the distant +high wall of the garden. + +"Why do you say that?" I asked, a little surprised at his tone. + +"Oh, I was thinking of the manner in which the gate slammed to, after we +had entered. It is a mere inanimate gate, to be sure, but it was slammed +by a porter, and his manner of slamming it might unconsciously express +what was in his mind. You remember, the Count was rather long in coming +to a decision upon our note. If it occurred to him, after all, that we +might have some design, and that people with a design would be safer +inside than outside--well, I mention this only that you may know to keep +your wits about you." + +"Thanks, but I see no reason to fear anything. Everything seems to be +going admirably. We are assured of some time in which to attend to our +affairs. While one of us is playing chess with the Count, the other will +be free to roam about,--that suits me perfectly. I begin to feel really +grateful for the Count's hospitality--I almost dislike having won it by +a trick." + +"Pish! He is churlish enough as a rule in the matter of +hospitality--it's only fair to win it by a trick." + +I was inwardly much excited at the near prospect of dinner, as the meal +would perhaps give me a sight of the Countess. But of this I was +disappointed. The only people who sat down at the upper table, when +dinner was served in the hall, were the Count, the Captain, my friend +Monsieur de Pepicot, and myself. Elsewhere the benches were crowded with +fellows who, like him that had brought our invitation, appeared as much +warriors as serving men, and their number alone would have arrested +notice. I now recalled how many knaves of this sort I had seen in the +court-yard as I entered the chateau, but at that time I had had other +things to think of. + +The Count said nothing of the absence of his lady, and, as we could +scarce be thought to know whether he had a Countess living, it was not +for us to inquire about her. I spent my time wondering what could be her +situation, and whether her not appearing had anything to do with the +danger in which she supposed herself. My long-nosed friend ate very +industriously, and most of the conversation was between the Count and +the Captain, upon dogs and hawks and such things. When the Count +addressed either Monsieur de Pepicot or me, the Captain was silent. This +reticence, whether it proceeded from jealousy or contempt, seemed to +afford the Count a little amusement, for he turned his small eyes on the +Captain and stretched his thin lips in a smile that was truly horrible +in its relish of another's discontent. + +After dinner, the Count had the chessmen brought at once, and sat down +to watch us at our game. The Captain, with a glance of disapproval at +the chessboard, strolled away as he had done before. I was but a +moderately good player, and discomposed besides, so I held out scarce an +hour against the long-nosed gentleman, who was evidently of great skill. +Apparently the Count, by his ejaculations, thought little of my playing, +but he was so glad when my defeat made room for him, that I escaped his +displeasure. I too was glad, for now, while Monsieur de Pepicot kept the +Count occupied at chess, I should be free to go about the chateau in +search for its mistress. And grateful I was to Monsieur de Pepicot for +having beaten me, for he might easily have left me as the victor and +used this opportunity for his own purpose. I could not think it was +generosity that had made him do otherwise: I could only wonder what his +purpose was, that would bear so much waiting. + +For appearance's sake, I watched the two players awhile: then I imitated +the Captain, and sauntered to the court-yard, wondering if there might +be any servant there whom I could sound. But the men lounging there were +not of a simple-looking sort. They were all of forbidding aspect, and +they stared at me so hard that I returned into the hall. The Count was +intent upon the game. Pushed by the mere impulse of inquiry, I went up +the staircase as if to go to the chamber to which I had before been +conducted. But instead of going all the way up, I turned off at the +first landing into a short corridor, resolved to wander wherever I +might: if anybody stopped me, I could pretend to have lost my way. + +The corridor led into a drawing-room richly tapestried and furnished; +that into another room, which contained musical instruments; that into a +gallery where some portraits were hung. So far I had got access by a +series of curtained archways. The further end of the gallery was closed +by a door. I was walking toward that door, when I heard a step in the +room I had last traversed. I immediately began to look at the pictures. + +A man entered and viewed me suspiciously. He was, by his dress and air, +a servant of some authority in the household, and had not the military +rudeness of the fellows in the court-yard. + +"What is it Monsieur will have?" he asked, with outward courtesy enough. + +"I am looking at the portraits," said I. + +"I will explain them to you," said he. "That is Monsieur the Count in +his youth, painted at Paris by a celebrated Italian." And he went on to +point out the Count's children, now dead, and his first wife, before +going back to a former generation. + +"And the present Countess?" said I at last, looking around the walls in +vain. + +"There is no portrait of Madame the Countess." + +"She was not at dinner," I ventured. "Is she not well?" + +"Oh, she is well, I am happy to say. She often dines in her own +apartments." + +"She is well and yet keeps to her apartments?" I said, with as much +surprise as I thought the circumstance might naturally occasion. + +"She does not keep to her apartments exactly," replied the man, a little +annoyed. "She walks in the garden much of the time. Is there anything +else I may show you, Monsieur?" + +He stood at the curtained entrance, as if to attend my leaving the room, +and I thought best to take the hint. No doubt he had purposely followed +me, to hinder my going too far. + +I returned to the hall, which was very silent, the two players being +deep in their chess. Somewhere in my wake the manservant vanished, and I +seemed free to explore in another direction. The Countess walked much in +the garden, the man had said. It was a fine afternoon--might she not be +walking there now? + +Feigning carelessness, I went out a small door at the rear of the hall, +and found myself in that narrow part of the garden which lay between two +wings of the house, and which our chamber overlooked. This part, which +was really a terrace, was separated by a low Italian balustrade from the +greater garden below and beyond. I walked up the middle path to where +there was an opening in the balustrade at the head of a flight of steps. +But here my confidence received a check. Half-way down the steps was +sitting a burly fellow, who rose at my appearance, and said: + +"Pardon, Monsieur: no further this way, if you please. I am ordered to +stop everybody." + +"But I am the Count's guest," said I. + +"It is all the same. Nobody is to go down to the garden yonder without +orders." + +"Orders from the Count?" I asked. + +"From the Count or the Captain." + +I nearly let out my thought that the Captain had a good deal of +authority at the chateau, but I closed my lips in time. To show +insistence would only injure my purpose: so I contented myself with a +glance at the forbidden territory--a very spacious pleasance, indeed, +with walks, banks of flowers, arbours, and alleys, but with nobody there +to enjoy it that I could see--and went back to the hall. + +As I could not sit there long inactive, for considering how the time was +flying and I had accomplished nothing, I soon started in good faith for +the chamber to which I had feigned to be going before. Once upstairs, +however, it occurred to me to walk pass the door of that chamber, to the +end of the corridor. This passage soon turned leftward into a rear wing +of the building. I followed it, between chamber doors on one side and, +on the other, windows looking down on the smaller garden. It terminated +at last in a blind wall. I supposed myself to be now over that part of +the house which lay beyond the closed door at the end of the picture +gallery. I looked cautiously out of one of the windows, wondering how +much of the great garden might be visible from there. I could see a +large part of it, but not a soul anywhere in it. As I drew back in +disappointment, I was suddenly startled by a low sound that seemed to +come from somewhere beneath me--a single brief sound, which made my +breath stop and pierced my very heart. + +It was the sob of a woman. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +WHAT THE PERIL WAS + + +It seemed to me like a sob of despair, or of the breaking down of +patience, and, knowing what I did already, I quickly imagined it to +proceed from the Countess in a moment when she was beginning to lose +hope of Monsieur de Merri's arrival. To me, therefore, it seemed a stab +of reproach. + +I judged that it came by way of the window below me. So forthwith, at +all hazards, sheltering myself from outside view as well as I could with +the casement, I thrust my head out over the sill, and said in a low +tone: + +"Madame." + +I waited for some moments, with a beating heart, and then called again, +"Madame." + +I thought I heard whispering below. Then a head was thrust out of the +window--a woman's head, soft haired and shapely. "Here I am," I +whispered. The head twisted round, and the face was that of the young +woman who had received the messenger at the postern the day before. But +it was clear that she had not been sobbing, though her face wore a look +of concern. + +"I must speak with Madame the Countess," said I, and added what I +thought would most expedite matters: "I bring news of Monsieur de +Merri." + +The head disappeared: there was more whispering: then the maid looked +out again, using similar precautions to mine with regard to the +casement. + +"Who are you, Monsieur?" she asked. + +"I will explain all later. There is little time now. I may soon be +looked for. Contrive to let me have an interview with Madame the +Countess. I don't know how to get to her: I'm not acquainted with the +chateau." + +"Put your head a little further out, Monsieur,--so that I can see your +face." + +I obeyed. She gazed at me searchingly, then withdrew her head again. +Reappearing very soon, she said: "Madame has decided to trust you. These +are her apartments. There is a door from a gallery where pictures +hang--" + +"I have been to that gallery," I interrupted, "but I was watched while +there. Is there no other way?" + +She thought a moment. "Yes, the garden. At the foot of the terrace, turn +to the right, till you get to the end of this wing." + +"But the man at the steps yonder will stop me. He has done so already." + +"That beast! Alas, yes! Well, I will go and talk with him, and keep him +looking at me. You go down to the terrace without attracting any +attention, walk close to the house till you get to this end of the +balustrade, step over the balustrade, descend the bank as quietly as +possible, and wait behind the shrubbery near the door at the end of this +wing,--it's the door from Madame's apartments to the garden. Do you +understand?" + +"Perfectly." + +"Then I will be talking to that man by the time you can get to the +terrace. I go at once. Be quick, Monsieur,--and careful." + +Admiring the swift wits and decision of the girl, I hastened through the +corridor, down the stairs, and into the hall. The Count and the +long-nosed man were so buried in their game that neither looked up. A +pair of varlets in attendance were yawning on a bench. Yawning in +imitation, I passed with feigned listlessness to the terrace, went +noiselessly along by the house-wall, and followed the wing to the end of +the balustrade. I did not venture even to look toward the steps, but I +could hear the maid talking and laughing coquettishly. I crossed the +balustrade by sitting on it and swinging my legs over: then strode on +light feet down the grassy bank and through an opening in the shrubbery +I saw at my right. I found myself in a walk which, bordered all the way +by shrubbery, ran from a narrow door in the end of the wing to the other +extremity of the garden. The door, when I first glanced at it, was +slightly ajar: I supposed the maid had left it so. But as soon as I had +come to a halt in the walk, the door opened, and a very young, very +slender, very sad-faced, very beautiful lady came out, with eyes turned +upon me in a mixture of hope and fear. + +I instinctively fell upon my knee before that picture of grief and +beauty. She wore, I remember, a gown of faded blue, and blue was the +colour of her eyes--a soft, fair blue, like that of the sky. She was so +slim, sorrowful, small, childlike, forlorn,--I would have died to serve +her. + +She looked at me searchingly, as the maid had done, but with more +courtesy, and then, in a low voice bidding me follow her, led the way +down the walk and into a side path that wound among some tall +rose-bushes. Here we could not be seen from the walk and yet we might +hear anybody approaching. She stopped and faced me. + +"You have news of Monsieur de Merri," she said eagerly. "What of him?" + +"He is prevented from coming to you, Madame." + +Her face, pale before, turned white as a sheet. + +"But," I hastened to add, "I have come in his stead, and I will serve +you as willingly as he." + +"But that will not do," she said, in great agitation. "Nobody can serve +me at this pass _but_ Monsieur de Merri. Where is he? What prevents +him?" + +"I left him at La Fleche," said I lamely. "I assure you it is utterly +impossible for him to come. But believe me, I am wholly yours for +whatever service you desired of him. You can see that I have come from +him." I took from my pocket her note, and held it out. I then told her +my name and parentage, and begged her not to distrust me because I was +of another religion than hers. + +"It isn't that I don't believe you, Monsieur," she replied. "It isn't +that I doubt your willingness to help me." + +"As to my ability, try me, Madame. My zeal will inspire me." + +"I don't doubt your ability to do brave and difficult things, Monsieur. +But it is not that. It happens--the circumstances are such--alas, nobody +but Monsieur de Merri himself can help me! If you but knew! If _he_ but +knew!" + +"Tell me the case, Madame. Trust me, I beg. Let me be the judge as to +whether I can help you." + +"I do trust you. I am not afraid to tell you. You will see plainly +enough. It is this: I have been slandered to my husband. A week has been +given me in which to clear myself. The week ends to-morrow. If I have +not proved my innocence by that time, God knows what fate my husband +will inflict upon me!" + +She shuddered and closed her eyes. + +"But your innocence, Madame--who can doubt it?" + +"My husband is a strange man, Monsieur. He has little faith in women." + +"But what slander can he believe of you? And who could utter it? What is +its nature?" + +"I suppose it is my husband's friend, Captain Ferragant, who uttered it. +The nature of it is, that Monsieur de Merri's name is associated with +mine. Monsieur de Merri is said to have made a boast about me, in the +tavern at Montoire. It is a hideous lie, invented when Monsieur de Merri +had gone away. And now you see how only Monsieur de Merri can save me, +by coming and facing our accusers and swearing to my innocence. But +to-morrow is the last day. Oh, if he had known why I wanted him! It is +too late now--or is it? Perhaps he sent you ahead? Perhaps he is coming +after you? Is it not so? He will be here to-morrow, will he not?" + +Bitterly I shook my head. + +"Then I am lost," she said, in a whisper of despair. + +"But that cannot be. It isn't for you to prove your innocence--it is for +your accuser to prove your guilt. He cannot do that." + +"You do not know the Count de Lavardin. He will believe any ill of a +woman, and anything that Captain Ferragant tells him. The fact that +Monsieur de Merri is young and accomplished is enough. My husband has +suspected me from the hour of our marriage. And besides that, people at +Montoire have testified that they heard Monsieur de Merri boast of +conquests. Whether that be true or not, it could not have been of me +that he boasted. And if he but knew how I stand, how readily he would +fly to clear me! He is no coward, I am sure." + +I had evidence of that: evidence also of Monsieur de Merri's unfortunate +habit of boasting of conquests. But I was convinced that it could not +have been of her that he had boasted. These thoughts, however, were but +transient flashings across my sense of the plight in which I had put +this unhappy woman by killing Monsieur de Merri. I tried to minimize +that plight. + +"But your fears are exaggerated. Your husband will not dare go too far." + +"He will dare take my life--or lock me up for the rest of my days in a +dungeon--or I know not what. He is all-powerful on his estate--lord of +life and death. You know what these great noblemen do when they believe +their wives unfaithful. I have heard how the Prince de Conde--" + +"Yes; but the Count de Lavardin would have your relations to fear." + +"I have no relations. I was an orphan in a convent. The Count took a +fancy to my face, they told me. They urged me to consent to the +marriage. I could not displease them--I had never disobeyed them. And +now this is the end. Well, I am in the hands of God." She glanced +upwards and gave a sigh of bitter resignation. + +"But after all," I interposed, "you are not certain how your husband +will act." + +"He has threatened the worst vengeance if I cannot clear myself +to-morrow. If you knew him, Monsieur!" + +"He allowed you a week, you say.--" + +"From the day he accused me--last Saturday." + +"And what facilities did he give you for the purpose?" + +"His men and horses were at my service. He knew, of course, that all I +could do was to send for Monsieur de Merri." + +"But why did he not send for Monsieur de Merri?" + +"I don't know. I suppose he was ruled by the advice of Captain +Ferragant. Perhaps he thought Monsieur de Merri would not come at his +request." + +"But you did not use your husband's men and horses to send for Monsieur +de Merri." + +"No. Mathilde--my maid whom you saw just now--thought I would better act +secretly. She feared the Captain would bribe the messenger to make only +a pretence of taking my message to Monsieur de Merri. In that case +Monsieur de Merri, knowing nothing, would not come, and his not coming +would be taken as evidence of guilt--as it will be now, though he got my +message, for Hugues is faithful. Why is it, Monsieur, that Monsieur de +Merri sent back word by Hugues that he would follow close, if he could +not come?" + +"Something happened afterward. Hugues, then, is the name of the +messenger you sent?" + +"Yes. He is devoted to Mathilde. They are accustomed to meet at certain +times. Mathilde has not much freedom, as you may guess, sharing my life +as she does. So she contrived to get possession for awhile of the key to +a postern yonder, and to pass it to Hugues when he came with flour. He +had a duplicate made, so that she could restore the original and yet +retain a key with which to let herself out and meet him in the forest. +Thus she was able to see him last Sunday morning, and to send him after +Monsieur de Merri. We knew that De Merri had started Westward, and +Hugues traced him from town to town. Ah, when Hugues returned +successful, how rejoiced we were! We expected Monsieur de Merri every +hour. But the time went by, and our hopes changed to fears, and now, +heaven pity me, it is the fears that have come true!" + +"But you are not yet lost. Even if the Count should be so blind as to +think you guilty, you have at least one resource. You have the key to +the postern. You can flee." + +"And be caught before I had fled two leagues. I am visited every three +hours, as if I were a prisoner, and as soon as I was missed a score of +men would be sent in all directions. Besides, for some reason or other, +the Count has the roads watched from the tower. If I fled into the +forest, the bloodhounds would be put on my track. My husband has hinted +all this to me. And where could I flee to but the Convent? The Count +would have men there before I could reach it." + +"I could find some other place to take you to," said I at a hazard. + +"Ah, Monsieur, then indeed would appearances be against me. Then indeed +would the enemy of my poor reputation have his triumph. Alas, there is +no honourable place in this world for a wife who leaves her husband's +roof, though it be her prison. I will be true to my vows, though I die. +If there be wrong, it shall be all of his doing, none of mine." + +"You believe it is this Captain who has slandered you. Why should he do +that? Why is he your enemy?" + +She blushed and looked down. I understood. + +"But why do you not tell your husband that?" I asked quickly. + +"The Count says it is an old story that wives accuse their husbands' +friends whom they dislike. He thinks women are made of lies. And in any +case he says if I am innocent of this charge I can prove my innocence. +So all depended on Monsieur de Merri's being here to-morrow to speak for +me." + +"Ah, Madame, if only my speaking for you would avail anything!" + +"From the depths of my heart I thank you, Monsieur, though you see how +useless you--And yet there is one thing you can say for me!" A great +light of sudden hope dawned upon her face. "You can tell how you saw +Monsieur de Merri--that he was coming here, but was prevented--" + +"Yes, I can do that." + +"And perhaps--who knows?--you can induce the Count to give me a few more +days, till the cause of Monsieur de Merri's delay is past. And then you +can ride or send to Monsieur de Merri, and tell him my situation, and he +will come and put my accuser to shame, after all! Yes, thank God, there +is hope! Oh, Monsieur, you may yet be able to save me!" + +There were tears of joy on her face, and she gratefully clasped my hand +in both of hers. + +It sickened my heart to do it, but I could only shake my head sadly and +say: + +"No, Madame, Monsieur de Merri can never come to speak for you." + +"Why not?" she cried, all the hope rushing out of her face again. + +"He is dead--slain in a duel." I said in a voice as faint as a whisper. + +Her face seemed to turn to marble. + +"Who killed him?" she presently asked in a horrified tone. + +I knelt at her feet, with averted eyes, as one who is all contrition but +dare not ask a pardon. + +"You!" she whispered. + +"When I found this message upon him afterward," said I, "I saw what +injury was done. I could only come in his place, and offer myself. By +one means and another, I learned who it was had sent for him." + +"That brave young gentleman," said she, following her own thoughts; +"that he should die so soon! And you, with his blood on your +hands."--she drew back from me a step--"come to offer your service to me +who, little as I was to him, must yet be counted among his friends! +Monsieur, what could you think of my loyalty?" + +"I thought only of what might be done to prevent further harm. Though I +fought him, I was not his enemy. I had never seen him before. It was a +sudden quarrel, about nothing. Heaven knows, I did not think it would +end as it did. That end has been lamentable enough, Madame. Punish me if +you will: as his friend, you are entitled to avenge him." + +"I only pity him, Monsieur. God forbid I should think of revenge!" + +"You are a saint, Madame. I was about to say that my having killed him +need not make you reject my service. Your doing so might but add to the +evil consequences of my act. Surely he would prefer your accepting my +aid, now that he is for ever powerless to give his. And we must think +now of something to be done--" + +[Illustration: "WE WERE INTERRUPTED BY A LOW CRY."] + +We were interrupted by a low cry, "Madame, Madame!" in a soft voice from +within the arbour that sheltered the walk. The Countess said to me, "It +is Mathilde. She means some one is coming. Hide among these bushes. If +we do not meet again, adieu, Monsieur; I thank you from my heart, and +may God pardon you the death of Monsieur de Merri!" + +She started for the walk: I whispered, "But I must help you! Can we not +meet again presently?" + +"I know not," she replied. "Act as you think best, Monsieur. But do not +endanger yourself. I must be gone now." + +She hastened to join the maid, whose whereabouts were indicated by a low +cough. I heard voices, and instantly crawled under the rose bushes, +heedless of scratches. As the voices came down the walk, one of them +turned out to be that of Captain Ferragant. There was but one other, +which I took, from the talk which I heard later, to belong to a falconer +or some such underling. The Captain addressed a few remarks to the +Countess, as to her state of health and the beauty of the day, which she +answered in low tones. Then he and his companion proceeded to walk +about, talking continually, never getting entirely out of my hearing, +and often coming so near that I could make out their words. It seemed +that an endless length of time passed in this way. I heard no more of +Madame and the maid. Finally the Captain and his man walked back toward +the house. I rose, stretched my legs, and peered up and down the walk. +It was deserted. What was I to do next? I naturally strolled toward the +chateau. As I neared the door leading to Madame's apartments, out came +Mathilde. + +"I have been watching for you, Monsieur. Madame had to come in, to avoid +suspicion. If you can get back to the terrace by the way you came down, +I will go again and distract the attention of the guard." + +"I can do that. But what of Madame? I must see her again. We must find +some way to save her." + +"Do what you can, Monsieur. If you think of anything, you know how to +communicate with us by way of the windows. But lose no time now." + +She hastened away to beguile the man on watch at the steps. When I heard +her laughter, I sped over the grass to the foot of the bank. I clambered +up, crossed the balustrade, went along the house, and entered the hall. +Monsieur de Pepicot was just in the act of saying "Checkmate." + +The Count's face turned a shade more ashen, and he looked unhappy. +Presently he smiled, however, and said peevishly: + +"Well, you must give me an opportunity of revenge. We must play another +game." + +"I shall be much honoured," said Monsieur de Pepicot. "But is there time +to-day?" + +"No; it will soon be supper time. But there will be time to-morrow. You +shall stay here to-night." + +"With great pleasure; but there are some poor things of mine at the +cabaret yonder I should like to have by me." + +"I will send a man for your baggage," said the Count. + +"Then I shall have nothing to mar my happiness," said Monsieur de +Pepicot composedly. + +I was very anxious to remain at the chateau for the present, and feared +rather dismissal than the enforced continuance there which the +long-nosed man had fancied might be our fate. So, to make sure, I said: + +"If Monsieur the Count will do me the honour of a game to-morrow, I will +try to make a better contest than I did against Monsieur de Pepicot." + +The Count looked not displeased at this; it gave him somebody to beat in +the event of his being again defeated by Monsieur de Pepicot. + +"Certainly," said he; "I cannot refuse you. You too will remain my +guest; and if I may send for your baggage also--" + +I felt vaguely that it would be better to leave my horse and belongings +at the inn at Montoire, in case I should ever wish to make a stealthy +departure from the chateau; so I replied: + +"I thank you, Monsieur; but there is nothing I have urgent need for, or +of such great value that I would keep it near." + +"As you please," said the Count, observing me keenly with his +half-ambushed eyes. + +The man who had escorted us to the chateau was sent to fetch Monsieur de +Pepicot's baggage; and would have brought his horse also, but that +Monsieur de Pepicot mildly but firmly insisted otherwise and despatched +orders for its care in his absence. The baggage consisted of a somewhat +sorry looking portmanteau, which was taken to our chamber. We then had +supper, during which the Count and my long-nosed friend talked of chess +play, while Captain Ferragant ate in frowning silence, now and then +casting no very tolerant glances at us two visitors. I would have tried +by conversation to gain some closer knowledge of this man, but I saw +there was no getting him to talk while that mood lasted. After supper +the Count and the Captain sat over their wine in a manner which showed a +long drinking bout to be their regular evening custom. Monsieur de +Pepicot and I accompanied them as far as our position as guests +required. We then plead the fatigue of recent travel, and were shown to +our room, in which an additional bed had been placed. The Count was by +this time sufficiently forward in his devotions to Bacchus to dispense +easily with such dull company as ours, and the Captain, by the free +breath he drew as we rose to go, showed his relief at our departure. + +When the servant had placed our candles and left us alone, I expressed a +wonder why so great a house could not afford us a room apiece. + +"It is very simple," said the long-nosed man, opening his portmanteau. +"If they should take a fancy to make caged birds of us, it's easier +tending one cage than two." + +I went to bed wondering what the morrow had in store. I saw now clearly +that I might accomplish something by informing the Count that Monsieur +de Merri was dead and that he was on his way to Lavardin when I met him. +His failure to appear could not then be held as evidence of guilt: his +intention to come might count much in the Countess's favour. + +As my head sank into the pillow, there came suddenly to my mind the +second of the three maxims Blaise Tripault had learned from the monk: + +"_Never sleep in a house where the master is old and the wife young._" + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +STRANGE DISAPPEARANCES + + +Monsieur de Pepicot spent so many minutes among the contents of his +travelling bag, that he was not in bed as soon as I. But he was by far +the sooner asleep, as his loud snoring testified. To that music ran my +thoughts of the beautiful young Countess and her unhappy situation, till +at last they passed into dreams. In the midst of the night I woke, and +listened for my neighbour's snoring. But it had ceased. Then I strained +my ears to catch the sound of his breathing, but none came. Wondering at +this, I rose and went over toward his bed. There was just light enough +by the window to see that it was empty. + +I was still in the midst of my surprise, when the door opened with a +very slight creak, and in walked a slim figure so silently that I knew +it was without shoes. + +"Is that you, Monsieur de Pepicot?" I asked. + +"H'sh," he replied in a whisper, closing the door carefully. "Don't +disturb the slumbers of the household. You are very wakeful." + +"No more so than you are, it seems," I said. + +"That is true. I often suffer from sleeplessness, and I find a walk is +the thing to put me right." + +"You were wise to take a light with you on your walk," I observed, for +he now produced a small lantern from under his loose-fitting doublet, +where it had been entirely concealed. + +"Yes; one might hurt one's toes in these dark passages," he answered, +and placidly drew some papers from his breast pocket, folded them +carefully by the lantern's light, and then as carefully replaced them. +"I trust you made some progress in your affair here during the +afternoon." + +"Yes. But you were kept busy with the Count." + +"Oh, I don't complain. I was about to say that if you preferred to leave +the house to-night, no doubt I could manage it for you." + +"Why should I prefer to leave to-night?" + +"Oh, merely because this Count may be a dangerous man to have much to do +with. I know nothing of your affairs, and of course you have no interest +in mine. The Count will understand that, no doubt, and will not hold you +responsible for anything I may do, if you choose to stay here longer." + +"Well, I must stay here longer, in any case." + +"Then there is no more to be said," answered the long-nosed man, +extinguishing his lantern, which he wrapped up and put into his +portmanteau. He then lay down upon his bed, without undressing. + +I returned to my own couch and was soon asleep. + +When I woke again, it was daylight. Monsieur de Pepicot and his +portmanteau were gone. It occurred to me now, as I washed and dressed, +that when he spoke of my departing by night he intended to make just +such an unceremonious exit himself. In that case, I inferred, he had +thought it only fair, as I had helped him to get into the chateau, that +he should offer to help me to get out, for he had made no secret of his +fears that we might find opposition to our doing so. But, if he had +indeed fled, how had he contrived to get out in the middle of the night? +As for his purpose in getting in, he must have accomplished that while +on his midnight perambulations. + +I went downstairs, but he was not in the hall, nor on the terrace nor in +the court-yard. It was a fine morning, and I was for walking about. At +one side of the court-yard the wall was pierced by a narrow gateway, +which took me into a second court-yard, of which one of the further +angles was filled by a quadrant of the great tower that rose toward +heaven from a corner of the main chateau. There was a small door from +this court-yard to the tower. This tower, for its bigness and height, +took my eyes the first moment, but the next they were attracted by the +living figures in the court-yard. These were Captain Ferragant and a +pack of great hounds which he was marshalling before him, throwing a +piece of meat now to one, now to another, calling out by name which +animal was to catch. He indeed managed to keep them in some sort of +order and from closing around him, and though they all barked and leaped +at each throw, yet only the one whose name was called would dare +actually to close jaws upon the titbit. This went on for some time, +until at last one huge brute, leaping higher, seized the meat intended +for another. + +The red Captain swore a fierce oath, and, grasping a whip, called the +interloping dog to come to him. The animal slunk back. The Captain +advanced among the pack, still calling the hound in the most threatening +voice. But the hound slunk further, growling and showing his teeth. The +Captain sprang forward and brought down his whip. The dog, mutinous, +made a snap at the Captain. The latter, now deeply enraged, threw aside +the whip, caught the animal by the neck, lifted it high, and, with a +swift contraction of his fingers, caused its eyes and tongue to protrude +and its body to writhe and hang powerless. He then flung the dead +creature to a corner of the yard, and looked at me with a smile half +vaunting, half amused, as if to say, "That is how I can treat those who +thwart my will," and to ridicule my wonder at his fury and strength. + +I turned with a look of pity toward the victim of his anger. At that +moment the Count de Lavardin entered the court-yard, and his glance +followed mine. Having seen what I saw, he looked protestingly at the +Captain. + +"The brute was rebellious," said Ferragant. + +"But one doesn't run across such dogs every day," complained the Count. + +"The rarest dog shall not defy me," was the cool answer. + +"That's all very well, if it had been your own dog," said the Count, +still peevish. + +"Oh, as to that, we are quits now. Your dog to-day pays for my man you +killed last week." + +"Pish, it's easy enough to find rascals like that by the score. Not so, +dogs like this. Well, talking won't make him live again--Good morning, +Monsieur. Where is your comrade, Monsieur de Pepicot?" + +I could only answer that on waking I had been disappointed of seeing +either Monsieur de Pepicot or his baggage. "Nor have I beheld him since, +though I have been looking about." + +"That is very strange,--that he should take his baggage from the room," +said the Count, exchanging a look of surprise with the Captain. He then +called two servants and gave them orders quietly, which must have been +to search the house and grounds for Monsieur de Pepicot. As we returned +to the hall, the Count questioned me, watching me sharply the while. I +was perfectly safe in telling the literal truth, though not all of it: +how Monsieur de Pepicot was a stranger to me, how I had never spoken to +him before yesterday, how I knew nothing of his business, and so forth. +Of course I said nothing of his midnight walk or of having conversed +with him at all after going to bed. The Count's mystification and +annoyance were manifest, the more so when, after some time, the servants +returned to say that the missing man could not be found. When he had +heard their report, the Count was very angry. + +"Name of the devil, then, how did he get out? There is treachery +somewhere, and somebody shall pay for it," he screeched, and then +despatched a man to the cabaret to see if Monsieur de Pepicot had taken +his horse away. The man came back saying the horse was gone, but nobody +had seen the owner take it. + +"It is certainly odd that the gentleman should depart secretly like +that, when he might have waited for day and gone civilly," said I, to +evince my simplicity. + +"You are right, very right," said the Count. "Well, at least you remain +to play a game of chess with me. What I am thinking is, the man must +have had some private reason for obtaining entrance to my house." + +"Possibly, Monsieur," I replied, bearing the searching gaze of both the +Count and the Captain well enough. + +"In that case, he made a tool of you," added the Count, still intent on +my expression. + +"That would be the inference," said I. + +"Well, we must satisfy ourselves as to how he took his departure, if we +cannot guess why. Make yourself master of the house, Monsieur. We shall +have our game nevertheless." + +And he went off with the Captain, to examine the places of exit from the +chateau and the men who were responsible for their security. One could +see that Monsieur de Pepicot's disappearance was as disturbing to the +Count as it was puzzling to me. + +I wandered out to the terrace and paced the walk along the house. My +eyes turned toward that window in the west wing which I knew to belong +to the apartments of the Countess. I turned along the wing, and strolled +under that window, thinking Madame or Mathilde might make an appearance +at it. I kept moving to and fro within easy earshot of it, sometimes +glancing up at the half-open casement. This was the clay on which the +poor lady's fate was to be determined by her husband and lord. I +wondered what sort of scene was arranged for the event, whether it would +have the form of trial and judgment, when and where it would occur, and +if I should be admitted to it. Probably I should not, and therefore I +would best speak to the Count regarding Monsieur de Merri before. The +thing was, to find a pretext for broaching the matter without betraying +that I had talked with the Countess. I had thought all this over during +the night, a hundred times, but now I thought it over again; and, in +vague search for some hint or guidance, I looked often up to the window, +as I have said. + +Presently I heard a single sharp, low syllable of laughter, which drew +my glance to the door by which I had come out to the terrace. There +stood the red Captain, his eyes upon me. When he saw that I noticed him, +he came toward me, whereupon I, with pretended carelessness, went to +meet him half way. + +"You seem to find it very interesting, that window," said he, in a low +voice. "To me it looks like any of the others." And he ran his glance +ironically along the whole range. + +"I thought you had gone with the Count to learn how Monsieur de Pepicot +got away," said I, guessing that he had come back to watch me, doubtless +considering that, after the evident duplicity of one guest, the other +might require some looking after. + +"And so you thought yourself free to post yourself over there and make +eyes at that window?" said the Captain with a smile that half jeered at +me, half threatened me with annihilation. + +"I do not quite understand your little jest," said I, boldly enough. + +"You may find it one of those jests in which the laugh is only on one +side, and that side not yours, young gentleman. Your friend with the +long nose, it appears, had his secret motives for paying a visit to this +chateau. We smelt some such thing when the letter came asking for a set +of chessmen, and so the Count admitted you, thinking you just as safe +inside the chateau as outside. It was not the intention to let you out +again in too great haste." + +"In that case," I put in, feigning to treat the matter gaily, "Monsieur +de Pepicot was wise in leaving as he did." + +"I was about to say that if Monsieur de Pepicot had his secret purposes, +it is but fair to suppose you may have yours. If it turns out to be so, +and if your object has anything to do with what you may imagine is +behind that window,--why, then, I warn you in time it would be much +better for you to have been that dog which opposed me a while ago,--very +much better, my pert young gentleman, I assure you." + +He turned and walked into the house, leaving me without any fit answer +on my tongue, or indeed in my mind either. + +It appeared to me that the sooner I had my explanation with the Count, +the better for both the Countess and myself. So I returned into the +hall, which the Captain was leaving by the court-yard door, and waited +for the Count's reappearance. When he did come, it was clear from his +face that the manner of Monsieur de Pepicot's escape--for escape it must +now be called--was still a mystery. It was plain, too, when his eyes +alighted on me, that he had heard from the Captain, who followed him, of +my conduct beneath the window. As he came toward me, he scowled and +looked very wicked and crafty. Before he could speak, I said: + +"Monsieur, there is something I wish to tell you, if you will allow me +to speak to you alone." + +"Regarding Monsieur de Pepicot?" + +"No; regarding myself and the reason of my coming to Lavardin." + +"That is interesting. Let us hear." + +"It is for you alone." + +"Oh, to be sure. Captain Ferragant, if you will excuse me,--" + +The Captain, with a shrug, swaggered off to the furthest corner of the +hall. + +"You have been acquainted," I began, "with a certain Monsieur de Merri." + +The Count's face seemed to jump. I had certainly caught his attention. +But his speech was perfectly controlled as he said: + +"Yes. And what of him?" + +"He had the misfortune to be killed in a sudden duel four days ago at La +Fleche." + +He was plainly startled; but, after a moment's silence, he only said, +"You astonish me," and waited for me to continue. + +"I feared I should," said I, "for it turned out, after the duel, that +Monsieur de Merri was on his way to see you, upon some matter of great +urgency." + +"On his way to see me! How do you know that?" + +I thought it best to tell as much truth as possible. + +"I learned from his servant that he was bound in great haste for +Montoire. Coming to Montoire, I inquired, and was informed that his only +tie in this neighbourhood was his acquaintance with you. Therefore it +must have been you he was coming to see, and his haste implied the +urgency of his reasons, whatever they may have been. Thinking you might +be depending upon his arrival, I resolved to tell you of his death." + +"It is a little odd that you should put yourself out to do that." + +"It might be, if I were not responsible for his failure to come to you." + +"Oh, then it was you who killed him?" + +"Yes; and thought it only the proper act of a gentleman to carry the +news to the person who may have expected him." + +"H'm. No doubt. But why did you not come directly and tell me?" + +"I heard you made yourself entirely inaccessible to strangers. So when +Monsieur de Pepicot spoke of asking you to lend us chessmen, I thought +it might lead to some breaking down of your reserve,--as it did." + +"But why did you wait a day before telling me?" + +"I hoped that chance might enable me to see you alone. But you were so +deeply engrossed in your chess. And I hesitated lest you might think +yourself bound, as Monsieur de Merri's friend, to deliver me up for +having violated the edict." + +These were certainly sufficient reasons, though, as you know, I had not +thought of telling him of Monsieur de Merri till after I had heard the +Countess's story, and therefore they were not the true answer to his +question. But I no longer found safe standing on the ground of truth, +and so fell back upon the soil of invention, uncertain as it was. The +Count looked as far into me as he could, and then called the Captain, +who came without haste to the great fireplace where we were. Without any +explanation to me, or other preface, the Count repeated my disclosure to +his friend, all the time in the manner of one submitting a story to the +hearer's judgment as to its truth. + +The Captain shrugged his shoulders, and looked at me scornfully. "It is +a fine, credible tale indeed," said he. + +"If you will take the trouble to send to La Fleche, you will find that +Monsieur de Merri is really slain," said I warmly. + +"Oh, no doubt," said the Captain. "But before he was slain, he had time +to take you into his confidence regarding certain things." + +"Not at all. I had never seen him before that evening. It was from his +servant, after he was dead, that I learned he was coming to Montoire. If +you can find that servant, at La Fleche or Sable, he will tell you so." + +"How could he have known he was wanted here?" asked the Captain of the +Count. "Your offer of a messenger was disdained." + +"I knew she would contrive to send after him on her own account, if I +gave her enough liberty," returned the Count. + +"It argues skill in such contrivances," said the Captain, with a +significant look. + +The Count frowned in a sickly way, but not at the speaker. "Well, in any +case, the liberty will now be cut off," he said harshly. But after a +moment, he added: "And yet, if this gentleman does not lie, Monsieur de +Merri was coming here fast enough." + +"To brazen it out, perhaps. There is no limit to the self-confidence of +youth. As for this gentleman, how does his story account for the +interest he takes in a certain window that looks upon the terrace?" + +The Count's face darkened again, as he turned menacingly toward me. +"Yes, by heaven, I had forgotten that." + +"To be frank," said I awkwardly, after a moment's hesitation, "I had +seen a pretty face there--I mean that of Mathilde." I added the last +words in haste, for the Count's look had shown for an instant that he +took me to mean that of the Countess. + +"Ah! that of Mathilde," he repeated, subsiding. + +"And how did you know her name was Mathilde?" asked the Captain, in a +cold, derisive tone. The Count's eyes waited for my answer. + +"I--exchanged a few words with her yesterday afternoon," I replied. + +"In regard to what subject?" asked the Count quickly, making a veritable +grimace in the acuteness of his suspicion. + +"I paid her a compliment or two, such as one bestows upon a pretty +girl." + +"He is evading," said the Captain. "It is a question whether he did not +presume to offer his compliments higher. One does not say to a pretty +girl, 'What is your name?' nor does the girl reply 'Mathilde,' as if she +were a child. It is more likely he heard the girl's name from other +lips. And was he not found spying about the west gallery by Ambroise? My +dear Count, I fear you kept your nose too close to the chessboard +yesterday afternoon. As for me, if I had known as much as I know now, I +should have been more watchful." + +The Count's face had turned sicklier and uglier as his friend had +continued to speak. He looked now as if he would like to pounce upon me +with his claw-like fingers. He was evidently between the desire to +question me outright as to whether anything had passed between me and +the Countess, and the dislike of showing openly to a stranger any +suspicion of his wife. The latter feeling prevailed, and he regained +control of himself. I breathed a little easier. But just then it +occurred to me that the Count would surely tax the Countess with having +seen me; that she would acknowledge our meeting; and that her own +account of it would be disbelieved, and the worst imaginings added, for +the very reason of my maintaining secrecy about it. I therefore took a +sudden course. + +"Monsieur," I said. "I will be perfectly open with you. From some casual +words of Monsieur de Merri at the inn at La Fleche, before we +quarrelled, I was led to believe that the cause of his journey had +something to do with the welfare of a lady. Afterwards when I heard +whither he was bound so hastily, I remembered that. On learning at +Montoire that this chateau was the only house in which he was known +hereabouts, I assumed that the lady must be in this chateau. It turned +out that the only lady here was the Countess herself. Do you wonder, +then, at my endeavouring to speak to the Countess first upon the matter +of Monsieur de Merri's death?" + +"Pray go on," said the Count, who was taking short and rapid breaths. + +"It is true I saw the maid at that window, but I saw also the +impossibility of communicating properly with Madame by that channel. So, +in spite of your sentinel's vigilance, I crossed the balustrade to the +garden, and there had the honour of presenting myself to the Countess. I +acquainted her with the fate of Monsieur de Merri. Her demeanour causing +me to believe that this put her into peril on her own account, I so +pushed my inquiries and offers of service that she told me what that +peril was. She said she was the victim of a slander which only Monsieur +de Merri's presence here could clear her of. We were soon interrupted +and she left me. I did not see her again, but it appeared to me that, as +Monsieur de Merri's presence here would have stood in her favour, the +news of his intention to be here must also stand that way. And now, +Monsieur, you have the whole story." + +It seemed to have weight with him: but, alas, he looked to the Captain +for an opinion. That gentleman, regarding me with a smile of ironical +admiration, uttered a monosyllabic laugh in his throat, and said: + +"There is one thing we can believe, at least. We know Monsieur de +Merri's habit of disclosing his affairs with ladies to strangers at +inns." + +The Count's face grew dark again. + +"But we can never be sure how much may have passed between Monsieur de +Merri and this gentleman on the subject before they quarrelled, or what +was the real motive that brought him here." + +"My God!" I cried; "what gentleman could require a stronger motive than +I have shown? Having prevented Monsieur de Merri from coming here upon +so urgent a matter, what else could I do in honour but come in his +place?" + +"'In his place'--yes, perhaps, that is well said," retorted the Captain, +with his evil smile. + +The Count, whose judgment seemed entirely under the dominion of his +friend, looked at me again as if he would destroy me. After a moment, he +took a turn across the hall and back, and then said to me: + +"Well, in the midst of all this deceit and uncertainty one thing is +clear. You know too much of our private affairs here to be permitted to +go where you will, for the present. I must ask you, therefore, to keep +to your chamber awhile. Your wants will be provided for there. I will +show you the way myself, on this occasion." He motioned toward the +stairway, and the Captain stood ready to accompany him. + +"That amounts to making me a prisoner, Monsieur," said I. + +"We shall not dispute over words," replied the Count. "By your own +confession, you are liable to the law for killing Monsieur de Merri." + +"I have reason to expect the King's pardon for that. Measures have +already been taken." + +"Pray don't keep me waiting, Monsieur. I should not like to be compelled +to have my men lay hands on you." At the same time his smile looked as +if he would like that very much. + +There was nothing to do, for the moment, but yield. The Captain was +watching to see where my hand moved, and I know not how many armed men +were in the court-yard, besides the servants waiting at the other end of +the hall. So I obeyed the Count's gesture, merely saying: + +"You will find I am not a person who will go unavenged in case of +indignity." + +The Count laughed, in his dry, sharp manner, and walked by my side. The +Captain followed. As soon as I was in my room, the Count called a +servant, who went away and presently returned with a key. The Count and +his friend then left me, and locked the door on the outside. As I sat +down on my bed, I was glad I had offered no useless resistance, for, as +it was, I had not been deprived of my weapons. + +To make a short matter here of what seemed a very long one at the time, +I was kept locked in my room all that day, with two armed men outside my +door, as I guessed first from hearing them, and certified afterwards by +seeing them when a servant brought my food. What made the confinement +and inaction the more trying was my knowledge that this was the day on +which the Countess was to plead her innocence. I kept wondering through +the tedious hours how matters were going with her, and I often strained +my ears in the poor hope of discovering by them what might be going on +in the chateau. But I never heard anything but the rough speech and +movements of the men outside my door, and now and then the voice of some +attendant on the terrace below my window. I could look diagonally across +the terrace to the window where I had seen Mathilde, but not once during +all that day did I behold a sign of life there. The night came without +bringing me any hint as to how the Countess had fared. I could not sleep +till late. + +When I woke, early in the morning, I noticed that my door was slightly +ajar. Looking out, I found the corridor empty. I took this to mean that +I was not to remain a prisoner, and so it proved. Hastily dressing and +going downstairs, though many servants were about, I encountered no +hindrance. I passed out to the terrace. To my surprise, nobody was on +guard at the steps; so I went boldly down to the garden. My heart beat +with a vague hope of meeting the Countess, though it was scarce late +enough in the day to expect her to be out. I must confess it was not +alone her being an oppressed lady whom I had engaged myself to aid, that +made me look so eagerly down all the walks and peer so keenly into all +the arbours; I must confess it was largely the impression her beauty and +tenderness had left upon me. But I was disappointed: I explored the +whole garden in vain. + +Anything to be near her, I thought. So I went and hung about the door +between the garden and her apartments. But it remained closed and +enigmatic. I had another idea, and, returning into the house, took my +way unchecked to the gallery of pictures, wondering at the freedom of +passage now allowed me, and at the same time resolved to make the most +of it. I could scarce believe my eyes when I saw the door ajar which led +to Madame's suite. I went and tapped lightly on it, but got no answer. +It opened to a large drawing-room, well furnished but without any +inhabitant. I crossed this room to the other side, which had two doors, +both open. One gave entrance to a sleeping-chamber, in a corner of which +was a prie-dieu, and which showed in a hundred details to be the bedroom +of a lady. But the bed was made up, and a smaller bed, in a recess, +which might be that of the maid, also had the appearance of not having +been used the previous night. I looked through the other doorway from +the drawing-room, and saw a stairway leading down to the garden door. +Had the Countess and Mathilde, then, gone into the garden at the time I +was in the act of coming to the gallery? No; for the garden door was +bolted on the inside. I went to one of the drawing-room windows looking +on the terrace, and made sure it was the window from which Mathilde had +first answered my call. And then it dawned upon me what the desertion of +these rooms meant, and why I was allowed to go where I would in the +house and garden. The Countess and her maid were no longer there. What +had become of them? + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +MATHILDE + + +Well, there was no indication to be found in the Countess's apartments +as to where she had removed to, and I thought it best not to risk being +seen there. So I went down to the hall again. As I glanced through the +court-yard to the outer gates, I thought of trying to leave the chateau, +to see if my new liberty went so far as to permit that. But I reflected +that if I were once let out I might not be let in again, and my chance +of learning what had become of the Countess lay, I supposed, inside the +chateau. So I resolved to stay there and await the turn that matters +might take. And certainly never was any man a guest in stranger +circumstances of guestship. I hated and feared my host, and was loth to +accept his hospitality, yet stayed of my own will, though I knew not +certainly whether I was free to go. My host hated me, yet tolerated my +presence--if indeed he would not have enforced it--for the sake of +having me at hand if he thought fit to crush me. When he appeared that +morning, I thanked him ironically for restoring me to liberty. He only +uttered his harsh crackling laugh in reply, and regarded me with a +pretended disdain which failed to conceal his hatred and his longing to +penetrate my mind and learn what indeed was between me and his Countess. +In such men, especially when they have an evil suggester like the +Captain at their ear, jealousy is a madness, and no assurances--nay, not +even oaths--of innocence will be taken by them as truth. But his pride +made him feign contempt for me, and he had nothing to say to me that +day. Neither had the Captain, whose manner toward me merely reverted to +what it had been at first. I saw my former place made ready at the +table, and took it. The Count and his friend talked of their sports and +the affairs of the estate, and not one word of the Countess was spoken. +Having eaten, they went off to ride, leaving me to amuse myself as I +might. The air of the chateau seemed the freer for their absence, but +still it was to me a sinister place, and an irreligious place too, for, +though the Count and his friend were Catholics, I had not seen the sign +of a chaplain or of any religious observance since I had crossed the +drawbridge. So I prepared myself for a dull yet anxious day, and lounged +about the hall and court-yard as the places where I might best hope to +find out something from the domestics of the house. + +As I paced the stones of the court-yard, I became aware that a certain +maidservant had been obtruding upon my view with a persistency that +might be intentional. I now regarded her, as she stood in a small +doorway leading to the kitchen. She was a plump, well-made thing, with a +wholesome, honest face, but the sluttishness of her loose frock, and of +a great cap that hung over her eyes, were too suggestive of the +scullery. As soon as she saw I noticed her, she put one finger on her +lip, and swiftly beckoned me with another. + +I strolled carelessly over, and stopped within a foot of her, pretending +to readjust my sword-belt. + +"Monsieur," she said in an undertone, "you are desired to be in your +chamber this afternoon at four o'clock." + +I glanced at the girl in wonder. + +"That is all at present," she whispered. I had the discretion to move +on. There were, as usual, several armed fellows idling about the +court-yard, but none seemed to have observed that any word had passed +between the kitchen-maid and me. + +Here was matter for astonishment and conjecture for the next few hours. +In some manner or other, those hours passed, and at four I was seated in +my chamber, having left the door open an inch or so. The turret clock +had scarce done striking when the door was pushed wide; somebody entered +and instantly closed it. I had a brief feeling of disappointment as I +saw the slovenly frock and overhanging cap of the kitchen-maid. Was it +she, then, who paid me the compliment of this clandestine visit? + +No; for the cap was swiftly flung back from the brow, and there was the +bright and comely face of Mathilde. I uttered her name in pleased +surprise. + +"Yes," she said quickly, "Mathilde in the guise of Brigitte. I have come +from Madame the Countess." + +"And where is she?" I asked eagerly. + +"In the great tower." + +"A prisoner?" + +"Yes, and I with her. Fortunately there was nothing else to do with me, +unless they killed me. So I am able to attend her." + +"Faithful Mathilde! But why is this?" + +"It is the fulfilment of the Count's threat in case Madame could not +clear herself of that false charge." + +"But the Count knew that Monsieur de Merri was coming here. I told him." + +"Yes, Monsieur, but the Count would believe as much of your story as +Captain Ferragant would choose to let him. Your very interest in +Madame's fate has been new food for his jealousy." + +"God forbid!" + +"It is not your fault, Monsieur; it is the Count's madness. He locks his +wife up, as much that she may be inaccessible to you and all other men, +as because of anything concerning Monsieur de Merri." + +"You may well call it his madness." + +"Yes; for, whatever other ladies may have deserved who have been treated +thus, the Countess is the most virtuous of wives. Her regard for her +marriage vows--in spite of the husband she has--is a part of her +religion. But his mind is poisoned. He naturally believes that a young +and beautiful woman would not be faithful to an old wolf like him. And +he is almost right, for there is only one young and beautiful woman in +France who would be, and that is the Countess." + +"Surely not because she loves him?" + +"Oh, no. It is because of her religion. She was brought up at a convent +school, and when the Count offered to marry her, the Mother Superior +made her think it her duty and heaven's will that she should accept the +high position, where her piety would shine so much further: and having +become his wife, she would die rather than violate a wife's duties by a +hair's breadth. But what is her reward? Not because he loves +her--there's more love in a stone!--but because he can't endure the +thought of any trespass on what is his--because he dreads being made a +jeer of--he goes mad with jealousy and suspicion. He imitates the Prince +of Conde by locking his wife up in a tower." + +"But this cannot last forever." + +"No, Monsieur, and for a very good reason--the Countess's life cannot +last forever under this treatment--even if the Count, in some wild +imagining of her guilt, conjured up by Captain Ferragant, does not +murder her. It's that thought which makes me shudder. It could be done +so quietly in that lonely cell, and any account of her death could be +given out to avoid scandal." + +"Horrible, Mathilde! He would not go to that length." + +"Men have done so. You are a stranger, and have not seen the frenzies +into which the Count sometimes works himself, torturing his mind by +imagining actions of infidelity on her part." + +"But that disease of his mind will wear itself out; then he will see +matters more sanely." + +"Will he grow better, do you think, as he grows older, and drinks more +wine, and falls more under the influence of the red Captain?" + +To say truth, I thought as Mathilde did, though I had spoken otherwise +for mere form of reassurance. + +"What is her prison like?" I asked. + +"A gloomy room no larger that this, with a single small window. There is +no panelling nor tapestry nor plaster--nothing but the bare stones. +There are a bed for Madame, a cot for me, a table, and two chairs: +nothing else to make it look like a human habitation, save our +crucifixes, an image of the Virgin, a trunk, and Madame's book of +Hours." + +"A small window, you say. Is it barred?" + +"No; but our room is very high up in the tower." + +"Still, if one got through the window--is it large enough for that?" + +"One might get through; but the moat is beneath--far beneath." + +"The window looks toward Montoire, then, if the moat is beneath." + +"Yes; we can see the sunset." + +"At all events, a person dropping from the window would alight outside +the walls of the chateau?" + +"Yes, Monsieur,--in the moat, as I said. It would be a long drop, too. I +don't know how high up the room is. It seems a great many steps up the +winding stairs before one comes to the landing before the door." + +"Is it at the top of the tower, then?" + +"No; for beyond our door the stairs begin again, and they seem to wind +more steeply." + +"You noticed the sunset. Then you must have been there yesterday +evening." + +"Yes; we were taken there shortly after noon yesterday. That was the +limit to the time given the Countess in which to prove her innocence. +She was summoned to the picture gallery by the Count himself, and nobody +else was there but Captain Ferragant. The door was closed against me, +and what passed between that saint and those two devils I know not; but +after a little the door was opened, and there she was, very pale and +with her eyes raised in prayer. The Count, who was blue with +vindictiveness, told me to get together what things Madame should order; +and when that was done, he bade us follow, and led the way down to the +court-yard and to the tower, the Captain walking behind. As we climbed +those narrow winding steps, I wished the Count might trip in the +half-darkness and break his neck, but alas, it was only poor Madame who +stumbled now and then. The Count showed us into the room, already +furnished for us, and waited till a man had brought the trunk in which I +had put some of Madame's clothes. The Count left without a word, and we +heard the door locked outside. At first I thought we were to be left to +starve, but after some hours the door was unlocked by a man on guard +outside, and Brigitte appeared with our supper. She told us she was to +come twice a day with our food, and for other necessary services. And +when she came again this morning, I had planned how I should manage to +see you." + +"You are as clever as you are true, Mathilde." + +"Fortunately Brigitte looks such a simple, witless creature that the man +on guard on the landing has not thought to pry while she has been with +us, and has allowed the door to be shut. He cannot then see in, as the +grated opening has been closed, out of regard to Madame's sex. So this +morning I got Brigitte's consent to my plan, for the poor girl is the +softest-hearted creature in the world. And to make sure of finding you +immediately when I got out, I charged her to tell you to be in your room +at four o'clock." + +"Which she did very adroitly." + +"She is not such a fool as some take her for. Well, when she came to us +awhile ago, I transferred this frock and cap from her to me, and had her +call out to the guard that she had forgotten something and must return +to the kitchen for it. 'Very well, beauty,' said the guard ironically, +and I came out in a great hurry, and was on my way downstairs before he +could take a second look at me. The landing is a dark place, and my +figure so much like Brigitte's that her clothes make it look quite the +same. There is another man on guard, at the bottom of the stairs, but he +was as easily deceived as the one above. I ran across the two +court-yards, and through the kitchen passage to the servants' stairs, +and nobody glanced twice at me. Brigitte, of course, must stay with +Madame till I return,--and now, Monsieur, it is time I was back, and I +have said nothing of what I came to say." + +"You have said much that is important. But 'tis true, you'd best say the +rest quickly,--your return may be dangerous enough." + +"Oh, I shall go so fast that nobody will have time to suspect me. As for +the guards, it is their duty to keep me in. Should they see it is I who +was out, they will be very glad to have me in again, and to hold their +tongues, for the Count's punishments are not light. But as to Madame's +message--she would have tried to convey it by Brigitte, had I not +declared I would come at all hazards,--for the truth is, I have +something to say on my own responsibility, also." + +"But Madame's message?" I demanded eagerly. + +"She begs that you will go away while you can. So brave a young +gentleman should not stay here to risk the Count's vengeance." + +I felt joy at this concern for my safety. + +"If I am a brave man," I answered, "I can only stay and help her." + +"I am glad you are of that mind, Monsieur, for it is what I think. That +is what _I_ had to say to you." + +"Then the only question is, how can I be of use to the Countess? She +must be released from this imprisonment." + +"There I agree with you again. She ought to be taken away--far out of +reach of the Count's vengeance--before he has time to make her plight +worse than it is, or carry out any design against her life. But even if +she remained as she is, her health would not long endure it." + +"Now that matters have come to this pass, no doubt she is willing to run +away." + +"Not yet, Monsieur. That is for me to persuade her. But if we form some +plan of escape now, I hope I can win her consent before the time comes +to carry it out." + +"I trust so. When she repelled the idea of escape, the day I saw her in +the garden, things had not gone so far. And then she thought there was +no safe place of refuge for her. But I can find a place. And she thought +an attempt must be hopeless because the Count would be swift to pursue. +But if we got some hours' start, going at night--" + +"Yes, certainly it will have to be at night, Monsieur. The Count has the +roads watched from the tower, for some purpose of his own--I think he +expects some enemy." + +"You still have the key to the postern?" + +"It must be where I left it--buried under the rose-bush nearest the +postern itself. But the first thing is, to get out of the room in the +tower." + +"Certainly. It would not be possible for Madame to get out as you have +done--by a disguise, I mean?" + +"No, Monsieur. Brigitte is the only one who comes to us, with whom she +might change clothes. And Madame is not at all of Brigitte's figure--nor +could she mimic Brigitte's walk as I can. She could not act a part in +the slightest degree. And I know that Madame would never consent to go +and leave me behind to bear the Count's wrath. We must all three go +together. Besides Brigitte comes and goes in the daytime, and Madame +must escape at night." + +"Yes, that is certain. It is hard to devise a plan in a moment. If I +could think of it over night, and you come to me again to-morrow--but +no, you may not be able to play this same trick again--the guards may +detect you going back." + +"That is true, and I have thought of one plan, though it may be +difficult." + +"Let me hear it, nevertheless." + +"Then listen, Monsieur. First, as to the door of our cell. It is locked +with a key, which the Count himself retains, except when he goes out, as +this afternoon,--it is then entrusted to the seneschal. I know this from +Brigitte, for the key is given to her when she comes to us. She hands it +to the guard on the landing, who opens the door and keeps the key while +she is within. When she leaves us, he locks the door, and she takes the +key back to the Count or seneschal. But in order to release Madame, you +must have that key." + +"And how am I to get it?" + +"After Brigitte's last visit to us before the night we select, she will +give the Count or seneschal, not the real key to our cell, but another +of the same size and general shape--she has access to unimportant keys +about the house. Then she will bring the real key to you." + +"But poor Brigitte!--when the Count investigates in the morning, he will +find she has given him the wrong key." + +Mathilde thought a moment. "No; he will rather suppose you robbed him of +the right key during the night and substituted the other to delay +discovery. He will suspect anything rather than Brigitte, whom he thinks +too great a fool for the least craft; and even if she is accused, she +can play the innocent. I assure you." + +"So much for that, then. There is yet the door of entrance to the +tower." + +"At present it has an old broken key in the lock, which is therefore +useless. But no doubt that will be remedied--so we must act soon. +Meanwhile, that door is guarded by the man at the foot of the stairs." + +"But are the two guards on duty at night also? There is no Brigitte to +be let in and out then. And surely the Count doesn't think you can break +your lock." + +"There are guards on duty, nevertheless. Last night I heard one call +down the stairs to another, asking the time. They are there, no doubt, +not for fear of our breaking out, but for fear of somebody breaking in +to help Madame. I don't suppose there are ever more than two. If the +rule has not been changed, the rest of the household sleeps, except a +porter in the gate-house and a man on top of the tower. But this man +watches the roads, as well as he can in the darkness, and the porter too +is more concerned about people who might want to enter the chateau than +about what goes on inside. So in the dead of night you can go silently +downstairs and let yourself out of the hall--" + +"But is not the hall door locked with a key?" + +"Yes; but the key is left always in the lock. You have then only to +cross the two court-yards to the lower, without making any noise to +alarm the porter at the gate-house or to warn the guard at the tower +entrance." + +"Will he be inside or outside the tower door, I wonder?" + +"Probably inside, where there is a bench just at the foot of the stairs. +He and his comrade above will be your only real difficulty, Monsieur. If +you can take them by surprise, one at a time--" + +"One at a time, or two at a time," said I, beginning to walk up and down +the chamber, and grasping my sword and dagger. "But the trouble will be, +the noise that may be made when I encounter them,--it may arouse the +chateau and spoil all." + +"But heaven may grant that you will surprise the men inside the tower, +one at the foot of the stairs, the other on our landing, as they must +have been last night. In that case, if you can keep the fighting inside +the tower, till--" + +"Till they are dead. Yes, in that case, if I am expeditious, no noise +may be heard outside. That is a thing to aim for. If they, or one, +should be outside, I can rush in and so draw them after me. Well, and +when I have done for them--?" + +"Then you have but to unlock our door, and Madame and I will join +you.--You will know our door by there being a stool in the landing +before it--the guard sits there.--Well, then we must fly silently +through the court-yards and the hall, let ourselves out to the +terrace--there are two or three ways I know,--and run through the garden +to the postern. Once out of these walls, we must hurry across the fields +to the house of a certain miller--" + +"Hugues? Yes." + +"Yes, Monsieur. The watchman on the tower will not see us in the fields, +for we shall keep close to the woods till we are at a distance. Hugues +can supply two horses, at least, and you and Madame must be as far away +as possible by daylight." + +"And you, Mathilde?" + +"Unless we can get three horses, I will lie hid at Hugues's mill till +Madame finds time to send for me. It will be suitable enough--Hugues and +I are to be married some day." + +"But I have a horse at the inn at Montoire. If I can get it out at that +hour, you can come with us--to whatever place we may decide upon." + +"As to that place, you may consider in the meanwhile. There will be time +to discuss the matter with Madame when she is escaping with you. The +first thing is, to get as far from Lavardin as possible. And now when is +all this to be done?" + +"The sooner the better, for who knows when the Count may take into his +head some new idea?" + +"Yes, of harm to Madame or to yourself." + +"Why should we not choose this very night?" + +"I see no reason against it--except that I may not be able to persuade +Madame. But yet there will be several hours--and surely heaven will help +me!--Yes, to-night! There is nothing for me to do but persuade Madame, +and see that we are dressed as suitably for travel as the clothes at +hand will permit. But first, before Brigitte comes away, I must instruct +her about the key. At what hour will you come, Monsieur?" + +"As soon as the house is asleep." + +"Fortunately, early hours are kept here, as there is never any company. +But the Count and the Captain stay at their cups till ten or eleven +o'clock." + +"Then by that time they must have drunk enough to make them fall asleep +as soon as they are in bed." + +"And sometimes before they are in bed, I have heard the servants say." + +"Then I will leave my room at half-past eleven, but will make sure that +the hall is dark and empty before I proceed." + +"And may the saints aid you, Monsieur, when you have to do with the men +at the tower!" + +"The men will not be expecting me, that is one advantage," said I, +trying to seem calm, but trembling with excitement. "If all goes well, +we should be out of the chateau soon after midnight." + +"And at Hugues's house before one o'clock. You should be on +horseback--the Countess and you--by half-past one. Have you money, +Monsieur?" + +"Yes,--this purse is nearly as full as when I left home." + +"That is well, for Madame has none, and I don't know how much Hugues +could get together in ten minutes. I have ten crowns in his strong-box, +which Madame shall have." + +"They shall stay in Hugues's strong-box, and his own money too. I have +enough." + +"Then I believe that is all, Monsieur, and I'd better be going back. Be +on the watch for Brigitte with the key. Do you think of anything else?" + +We went hurriedly over the various details of the plan, and then she +took her leave, darting along the passage as swiftly as a greyhound and +as silently as a ghost. I sat down to think upon what I had undertaken, +but my mind was in a whirl. Strangely enough, I, the victor of a single +duel, did not shrink from the idea of killing the two guards--or as many +as there might be. Perhaps this was because they were sure to be rascals +whose lives one could not value very highly, especially as against that +of the Countess. Nor did I feel greatly the odds against me, in regard +both to their number and to my inexperience in such business. Perhaps +the apparent confidence of Mathilde in my ability to dispose of them--a +confidence based on my being a gentleman and they underlings--infected +me. And yet I chose not to go too deeply into the probabilities. My +safest course, for my courage, was not to think too much, but to wait +for the moment and then do my best. + +It seemed but a short time till there was a tap at my door, and in came +the real Brigitte. + +"Mathilde got back safe, Monsieur; she was not detected," she said, and +handed me a large key. + +Ere more could pass, she was gone. I put the key in my breast pocket. It +was now time I should show myself to the Count and his friend at table; +which I proceeded to do, as boldly as if I had entertained no design +against them. They were just back from their ride. It was strange with +what outward coolness I was able to carry myself, by dint of not +thinking too closely on what I had undertaken. For observe that, besides +the immediate task of the night, there was Madame's whole future +involved. And how precipitately Mathilde and I had settled upon our +course, without pausing to consider if some more prudent measures might +not be taken to the same end! But I was hurried by my feeling that I +ought to save Madame, the more because no one could say how far the +present situation was due to my having killed De Merri, and to my advent +at the chateau. Even though she might choose not to escape, it was for +me to give her the opportunity, at least. And to tell the truth, I +longed to see her again, at any cost. As for Mathilde, there were her +pressing fears of a worse fate for her mistress, to excuse her haste. +And we were both young, and thought that any project which goes straight +and smoothly in the telling must go straight and smoothly in the doing; +and we looked not far ahead. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE WINDING STAIRS + + +I left the table early, and went to my room. I tore two strips from the +sheet of my bed, and wrapped them around my boots so as to cover the +soles and deaden my footsteps. Slowly the night came, with stars and a +moon well toward the full. But we could keep in shadow while about the +chateau, and the light would aid our travelling later. At half-past ten +o'clock, the house seemed so still I thought the Count must have gone to +bed before his usual time. I stole noiselessly from my room, feeling my +way; and partly down the stairs. But when I got to the head of the lower +flight, I saw that the hall was still lighted. I peered over the +railing. The Count and the Captain were alone, except for two knaves who +sat asleep on their bench at the lower end of the hall. The Count +lounged limply back in his great chair at the head of the table, +unsteadily holding a glass of wine; and the Captain leaned forward on +the board, narrowly regarding the Count. Both were well gone in wine, +the Count apparently the more so. There was a look of mental torment on +the Count's face. + +"Yes, I know, I know," he said, wincing at his own words as if they +pierced him. "There was opportunity enough with that De Merri. I was +blind then. And with this new puppy! Women and lovers have the ingenuity +of devils in devising opportunities. And they both admit their interview +in the garden. But that he could have his way so soon--is that entirely +probable?" + +He looked at the Captain almost beseechingly, as if for a spark of hope. + +The Captain spoke with the calm certainty of wisdom gained through a +world of experience: + +"Young blood is quickly stirred. Young lips are quickly drawn to one +another. Young arms are quick to reach out, and young bodies quick to +yield to them." + +The Count uttered a cry of pain and wrath, his eyes fixed as though upon +the very scene the Captain imagined. + +"The wretches!" said the tortured Count, staggering to his feet. "And I +am the Count de Lavardin!" + +[Illustration: "'THE WRETCHES!' SAID THE TORTURED COUNT, STAGGERING TO +HIS FEET."] + +"The greater nobleman you, the greater conquest for a young nobody to +boast of. It is a fine thought for adventurous youth.--'A great lord, +and a rich, but it is I, an unknown stripling, who really have possessed +what he thinks his dearest treasure.'" + +The Count gave a kind of agonized moan, and went lurching across the +hall, spilling some wine from his glass. "And a man of my years, too!" +he said, with an accent of self-pity. + +"The older the husband, the merrier the laugh at his expense," said the +Captain. + +The Count ground his teeth, and muttered to himself. + +"It is always their boasting that betrays them," went on the Count. +"When I was young, they used to tell of a famous love affair between the +Bussy d'Amboise of that day and the Countess de Montsoreau, wife of the +Grand-huntsman. It came out through Bussy's writing to the King's +brother that he had stolen the hind of the Grand-huntsman. That is how +these young cocks always speak of their conquests. + +"Ah, I remember that. He did the right thing, that Montsoreau! He forced +his false wife to make an appointment with Bussy, and when Bussy came, +it was a dozen armed men who kept the appointment, and the gay lover +died hanging from a window. Yes, that Montsoreau!--but he should have +killed the woman too! The perfidious creatures! Mon dieu!--when I +married her--when she took the vows--she was the picture of fidelity--I +could have staked my soul that she was true; that from duty alone she +was mine always, only mine!" + +He lamented not as one hurt in his love, but as one outraged in his +right of possession and in his dignity and pride. And curiously enough, +his last words caused a look of jealousy to pass across the face of the +Captain. This look, unnoticed by the Count, and speedily repressed, came +to me as a revelation. It seemed to betray a bitter envy of the Count's +mere loveless and unloved right of possession; and it bespoke the +resolve that, if the Captain might not have her smiles, not even her +husband might be content in his rights. Such men will give a woman to +death rather than to any other man. As in a flash, then, I saw his +motive in working upon the Count's insane jealousy. Better the Count +should kill her than that even the Count should possess her. I shuddered +to think how near to murder the Count had been wrought up but a moment +since. At any time his impulse might pass the bounds. I now understood +Mathilde's apprehensions, and saw the need for haste in removing the +Countess far from the power of this madman and his malign instigator. + +The Count, exhausted by his rush of feelings, drained his glass, and +almost immediately gave way to the sudden drowsiness which befalls +drinkers at a certain stage. He staggered to his seat, and fell back in +a kind of daze, the Captain watching him with cold patience. Thinking +they would soon be going to bed, I slipped back to my room. + +A little after eleven, I went forth again. The hall was now dark, and +its silence betokened desertion. I groped my way to the door. The key +turned more noisily than I should have wished, and there was a bolt to +undo, which grated; but I heard no sound of alarm in the house. I +stepped out to the court-yard, closing the door after me. The court-yard +was bathed in moonlight. Keeping close to the house, so as not to be +visible from any upper window, I gained the shadow of the wall +separating the two court-yards. As noiselessly as a cat, I followed that +wall to its gateway; entered the second court-yard, and saw that the +door to the tower was open, a faint light coming from it. The tower +itself, obstructing the moon's rays, threw its shadow across the +paving-stones. I stepped into that shadow, which was only partial; drew +my sword and dagger, and darted straight for the tower entrance, +stopping just inside the doorway. By the light of a lantern hanging +against the wall, I saw a kind of small vestibule, beyond which was an +inner wall, and at one side of which was the beginning of a narrow +spiral staircase, that ran up between walls until it wound out of sight. +On a bench against the inner wall I have mentioned, sat a man, who rose +at sight of me, with one hand grasping a sword, and with the other a +pike that was leaning against the bench. + +He was a heavy, squat fellow, with short, thick legs and short, thick +arms. + +"I give you one chance for your life," said I quickly. "Help me to +escape with your prisoner, and leave the Count's service for mine." + +After a moment's astonishment, the man grunted derisively, and made a +lunge at my breast with his pike. I caught the pike with my left hand, +still holding my dagger therein, and forced it downward. At the same +time I thrust with my rapier, but he parried with his own sword. I +thrust instantly again, and would have pinned him to the wall if he had +not sprung aside. He was now with his back to the stairs, and neither of +us had let go the pike. His sword-point darted at me a second time, but +I avoided, and thrust in return. Not quite ready to parry, he escaped by +falling back upon the narrow stone steps. Before I could attack, he was +on his feet again, and on the second step. We still held to the pike, +which troubled me much, both as an impediment to free sword-play and as +depriving me of the use of my dagger. I suddenly fell back, trying to +jerk it from his grasp; but his grip was too firm. He jerked the pike in +turn, and I let go, thinking the unexpected release might cause him a +fall. + +He did not fall; but I pressed close with sword and dagger before he +could bring the pike to use, and he backed further up the stairs. He +caught the pike nearer the point, that he might wield it better at close +quarters; but the long handle made it an awkward weapon, by striking +against the wall, which continually curved behind him. We were sword to +sword, and against my dagger he had his pike, but the dagger was the +freer weapon for defence though not so far-reaching for attack. + +The man was very strong, but he had the shorter thrust and offered the +broader target. We continued at it, thrust and parry, give and take. All +the time he retreated up the winding staircase, which was so narrow that +we had little elbow room, and this was to his advantage as he needed +less than I. Another thing soon came to his advantage: the stairs curved +out of the light cast by the lantern below, so that he backed into +darkness, yet I was still visible to him. I cannot tell by what sense I +knew where to meet his sword-point, yet certainly my dagger rang against +it each time it would have stung me out of the dark. As for his pike, I +now kept it busy enough in meeting my own thrusts. Whether or not I was +drawn by the knowledge that the Countess was above, I continued to +attack so incessantly, and with such good reach, that my antagonist +still retreated upward. I followed him into the darkness; and then the +advantage was with me, as being slender. + +Hitherto I had offered him my full front, but now I half turned my back +to the wall, so that his blade might scarce find me at all, and that I +might stand less danger of being forced backward off my feet. Well, so +we prodded the darkness with our steel feelers in search of each other's +bodies on those narrow stairs, striking sparks from the stone walls +which our weapons were bound to meet by reason of the continual +curvature. + +At last the broad form of my adversary was suddenly thrown into faint +light by a narrow window in the wall. I staked all upon one swift +thrust. It caught him full in the belly, and ran how far up his body I +know not. With a cry he fell forward, and I was hard put to it to save +my sword and avoid going down with him. But I got myself and my sword +free, and went on up the stairs as fast as I could feel my way. + +In a few moments I heard steps coming from above, and a rough voice +shouting down, "Ho, Gaspard, did you call? What the devil's up?" It was +the other guard, who must have been asleep to have been deaf to the +clash of our weapons, but whom his comrade's death-cry had roused. I +trusted that the walls of the tower had confined that death-cry from the +chateau; fortunately, the narrow window was toward the open fields. + +I stopped where I was. When the man's steps sounded a few feet from me, +I said "Halt!" and, telling him his comrade was dead, proposed the terms +I had offered the latter. There was a moment's silence: then a clicking +sound, and finally a great flash of fiery light with a loud report, and +the smell of smoke. By good luck I had flattened myself against the wall +before speaking, and the charge whizzed past me. Thinking the man might +have another pistol in readiness, I stood still. But he turned and ran +up the stairs. I stumbled after him. + +Presently the stairway curved into light such as we had left at the +bottom. The guard ran on in the light, and finally stepped forth to a +landing no wider than the stairs; where there hung a lantern over a +three-legged stool, beyond which was a door. At sight of this my heart +bounded. + +At the very edge of the landing the man turned and faced me, pointing a +second pistol. As the wheel moved, I dropped forward. The thing missed +fire entirely, and, flinging it down with a curse, the man drew his +sword and seized a pike that stood against the wall. I charged +recklessly up the steps, bending my body to avoid the pike. It went +through my doublet, just under the left armpit. Ere he could disencumber +it I pressed forward upon the landing. I turned his sword with my +dagger, and thrust with my own sword under the pike, piercing his side. +Only wounded, he leaped back, drawing the pike from my clothes. He aimed +at me again with that weapon. In bending away from it, I fell on my +side, but instantly turned upon my back. + +The man moved to stand over me. I let go my sword, and caught the pike +in my hand as it descended. He then tried to spit me with his sword, but +I checked its point with the guard of my dagger. I thought I was near my +end. He had only to draw up his sword for another downward thrust; but +there was a sudden faltering, or hesitation, in his movements, probably +a blindness of his eyes, the effect of his wound. In that instant of his +uncertainty, I swung my dagger around and ran it through his leg. He +fell forward upon me, nearly driving the breath out of my body. My +dagger arm, extended as it had been, was fortunately free. I crooked my +elbow, embraced my adversary, and sank the dagger deep into his back. I +felt his quiver of death. + +After I had rolled his body off me, and sheathed my sword and dagger, I +took out the key and unlocked the door. Inside the vaulted room of +stone, which was lighted by a candle, stood the Countess and Mathilde. + +The Countess, beautiful in her pallor, and looking more angel than woman +in the plain robe of blue that clothed her slight figure, met me with a +face of mingled reproach, pity, and horror. Mathilde was in tears and +utterly downcast. I could see at a glance how matters stood, and ere I +had made two steps beyond the threshold, I stopped, abashed. + +"Oh, Monsieur, the blood!" cried the Countess sadly, pointing to my +doublet. + +"It is that of your two guards," I said. "I am not hurt." + +"I am glad you are not hurt. But oh, why did you put this bloodshed upon +your soul?" + +"To save you, Madame." + +"Alas, I know. It is not for me to blame you--but could you think I +would escape--leave the house of my husband--become a fugitive wife?" + +I saw how firm she was in her resolution for all her fragility of body, +and I scarce knew what to say. + +"Madame, think! He is your husband, yes,--but your persecutor. Where you +should have protection, you receive--this." I waved my hand about her +prison. "Where you should find safety, you are in mortal danger." + +"I know all that, Monsieur,--have known it from the first. But shall I +play the runaway on that account? Think what you propose--that I, a +wedded wife, shall fly from my husband's roof with a gentleman who is +not even of kin to me! Then indeed would my good name deserve to +suffer." + +"But Madame, heaven knows, as I do, that you are the truest of wives." + +"Then let me still deserve that title as my consolation, whatever I may +have to endure." + +"But to flee from such indignity as this--such slander--such peril of +death--" + +"It is for me to bear these things," she interrupted, "if he to whom I +vowed myself in marriage inflicts them upon me. If they be wrongs, it is +I who must suffer but not I who must answer to heaven for them! I may be +sinned against, but I will not sin. Though he fail in a husband's duty, +I will not fail in a wife's. Do you not understand, Monsieur, it is not +the things done to us, but the things we do, that we are accountable +for?" + +"But I can see no sin in your fleeing from the evils that beset you +here, Madame." + +"Nay, even if it were not a violation of my marriage vow, it would have +the appearance of sin, and that we are to avoid. And it would be to +throw away my one hope, that my husband's heart may yet be softened, and +his eyes opened to my innocence." + +"Alas! I trust it may turn out a true hope, Madame," said I sadly. + +"Heaven has caused such things to occur before now," she replied. "As +for you, Monsieur, I must never cease to thank you for your chivalrous +intent, as I shall thank my good Mathilde for her devotion. And I will +ever pray for you. And now, if you would make my lot easier--if you +would remove one anxiety from my heart, and give me one solace--you will +leave this chateau immediately. Save yourself, I beg. Monsieur: let +there be no more blood shed on my account, and that blood yours! +Mathilde can let you out at the postern--she knows where the key is +hidden. She tells me you have a horse at Montoire. Go, Monsieur--lose +not another moment--I implore--nay, if you will recognize me as mistress +of this house, I command." + +I bowed low. She offered me her hand: I kissed it. + +"It will not be necessary for Mathilde to come to the postern," said I. +"I know another way out of the chateau. Adieu, Madame!" It was all I +could manage to say without the breaking of my voice. I turned and left +the room, closing the door that the Countess and Mathilde might be +spared the sight of the body on the landing. I then, for a reason, took +the key, leaving the door unlocked. I groped my way down the stairs, +taking care not to trip over the body below. I crossed the court-yards +without any care for secrecy, entered the hall, and sat down upon a +bench near the door. + +When I had told the Countess I knew another way out of the chateau, I +meant only the front gateway. But I did not intend immediately to try +that way. I intended, for a purpose which had suddenly come into my +head, to wait in the hall till morning and be the first to greet the +Count when he appeared. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +MORE THAN MERE PITY + + +What I stayed to do was something the Countess herself could do, and +probably would do one way or another, if indeed mere circumstances would +not do it of themselves: though I felt that none could as I could. But +to tell the truth, even if I could not have brought myself to turn my +back on that place while she was in such unhappy plight there. + +After I had sat awhile in the hall, I went to my room, lighted a candle, +and cleansed myself and my weapons, and my clothes as well as I could, +of blood. Having put myself to rights, though the rents in my doublet +were still gaping, I went back to the bench in the hall, and passed the +rest of the night there, sleeping and awake by turns. + +At dawn I heard steps and voices in the court-yard as of early risen +dependents starting the day. Silence returned for a few minutes, and +then came the noise of hurrying feet, and of shouts. There was rapid +talk between somebody in the court-yard and somebody at an upper window. +I knew it meant that the bodies of the two guards had been discovered, +doubtless by the men who had gone to relieve them. In a short time, down +the stairs came the Count de Lavardin, his doublet still unfastened, +followed by two body-servants. He came in haste toward the front door, +but I rose and stood in his path. + +"A moment, Monsieur Count. There's no need of haste. You'll find your +prisoner safe enough." + +"What do you mean?" he asked, having stopped in sheer wonder at my +audacity. + +"Madame the Countess has not flown, though it is true her guards are +slain--I slew them. And Madame the Countess will not fly, though it is +true her prison door is unlocked--I unlocked it--with this key, which I +borrowed from you last night." + +He took the key I handed him, and stared at it in amazement. He then +thrust his hand into his doublet pocket and drew out another key, which +he held up beside the first, looking from one to the other. + +"Yes," said I, "that is a different key, which I left in place of the +right one so that you might not discover the loan too soon." + +He gazed at me with a mixture of fury and surprise, as at an antagonist +whose capacity he must have previously underrated. + +"By the horns of Satan," he exclaimed, "you are the boldest of meddling +imps." + +"I have meddled to good purpose," said I, "though my meddling has not +turned out as I planned. But it has turned out so as to bring you peace +of mind, at least in one respect." + +"What are you talking of?" + +"You see that I possessed myself of that key; that I fought my way to +the prison of the Countess; that I threw open her prison door." + +"And believe me, you shall pay for your ingenuity and daring, my brave +youth." + +"All that was but the beginning of what I was resolved and able to do. I +had prepared our way of escape from the chateau." + +"I am not sure of that." + +"You may laugh with your lips, Count, but I laugh at you in my heart. +Don't think Monsieur de Pepicot is the only man who can get out of the +Chateau de Lavardin." + +The reminder somewhat sobered the Count. + +"I had the means, too," I went on, "to fly with Madame far from this +place. We might indeed have been a half-day's ride away by this time. I +assure you it is true. Let what I have done convince you of what more I +could have done. You don't think I should have gone so far as I have, +unless I was sure of going further, do you?" + +The Count shrugged his shoulders, pretending derision, but he waited for +me. + +"And why did I not go further?" I continued. "Because the Countess would +not. Because she is the truest of wives. Because, when I opened her +door, she met me with a stern rebuke for supposing her capable of flying +from your roof. Ah, Monsieur, it would have set your mind at rest, if +you had heard her. She bows to your will, though it may crush her, +because you are her husband. Never was such pious fidelity to marriage +vows. Her only hope is that your mind may be cleared of its false doubts +of her." + +The Count looked impressed. He had become thoughtful, and a kind of +grateful ease seemed to show itself upon his brow. I was pleasing myself +with the belief that I had thus, in an unexpected way, convinced him of +the Countess's virtue, when a voice at my side broke in upon my +satisfaction. I had so closely kept my attention upon the Count that I +had not observed Captain Ferragant come down the stairs. It was he that +now spoke, in his cool, quiet, scoffing tone: + +"Perhaps the Countess had less faith in this gentleman's power to convey +her safely away than he seems to have had himself. Perhaps she saw a +less promising future for a renegade wife than he could picture to her. +Perhaps she, too, perceived the value of her refusal to run away, as +evidence of virtue in the eyes of a credulous husband." + +The Count's forehead clouded again. I turned indignantly upon the +Captain, but addressed my words to the Count, saying: + +"Monsieur, you will pardon me, but it seems to a stranger that you allow +this gentleman great liberties of speech. Men of honour do not, as a +rule, even permit their friends to defame their wives." + +"This gentleman is in my confidence," said the Count, his grey face +reddening for a moment. "It is you, a stranger as you say, who have +taken great liberties in speaking of my domestic affairs. But you shall +pay for them, young gentleman. Your youth makes your presumption all the +greater, and shall not make your punishment the less. I will trouble +you, Captain, to see that he stays here till I return." + +At this the Count, motioning his attendants to follow, who had stood out +of earshot of our lowered voices, passed on to the court-yard, and +thence, of course, to the prison of the Countess. + +The Captain stood looking at me with that expression of antipathy and +ridicule which I always found it so hard to brook. I had some thought of +defying the Count's last words and walking away to see what the Captain +would do. But I reflected that this course must end in my taking down, +unless I made good a sudden flight from the chateau by the gate; and if +I made that I should be fleeing from the Countess. So the best thing was +to be submissive, and not bring matters, as between the Count and me, to +a crisis. Perhaps a way to help the Countess might yet occur, if I +stayed upon the scene to avail myself of it. And in any case by +continuing there in as much freedom as the Count might choose to allow +me, I might have at least the chance of another sight of her. + +So, while we waited half an hour or so in the hall, I gave the Captain +no trouble, not even that of speech, which he disdained to take on his +own initiative. + +The Count returned, looking agitated, as if he had been in a storm of +anger which had scarce had time to subside. His glance at me was more +charged with hate and menace than ever before. He beckoned the Captain +to the other end of the hall, and there they talked for awhile in +undertones, the Count often shaking his head quickly, and taking short +walks to and fro; sometimes he clenched his fists, or breathed heavy +sighs of irritation, or darted at me a swift look of malevolence and +threat. I could only assume that something had passed between the +Countess and him during his visit to her prison--perhaps she had shown +anxiety as to whether I had fled--which had suddenly quickened and +increased his jealousy of me. + +At last the Count seemed to accept some course advised by his friend. He +came towards me, the Captain following with slower steps. In a dry +voice, well under control, the Count said to me: + +"Permit me to relieve you, Monsieur, of the burden of those weapons you +carry. I am annoyed that you should think it desirable to wear them in +my house, as if it were the road." + +Startled, I put my hands on the hilts of my sword and dagger, and took a +step backward. + +"Your annoyance is somewhat strange, Monsieur," said I, "considering +that you and the Captain wear your swords indoors as well as out. I +thought it was the custom of this house." + +"If so," replied the Count, with his ghastly smile, "it is a custom that +a guest forfeits the benefit of by killing two of my dependents. Come, +young gentleman. Don't be so rude as to make me ask twice." + +The Captain now stepped forward more briskly, his hand on his own sword. +Taking his motion as a threatening one, and scarce knowing what to do, I +drew my weapons upon impulse and presented, not the handles, but the +points. But ere I could think, the Captain's long rapier flashed out, it +moved so swiftly I could not see it, and my own sword was torn from my +grip and sent whirring across the hall. In the next instant, the guard +of the Captain's sword was locked against the guard of my dagger, and +his left hand gripped my wrist. It was such a trick as a fencing master +might have played on a new pupil, or as I had heard attributed to my +father but had never seen him perform. It showed me what a swordsman +that red Captain was, and how much I had yet to learn ere I dared +venture against such an adversary. And there was his bold red-splashed +face close to mine, smiling in derision of my surprise and discomfiture. +He was beginning to exert his strength upon my wrist--that strength +which had choked and flung away the great hound. To save my arm, I let +go my dagger. The Captain put his foot on it till an attendant, whom the +Count had summoned, stooped for it. My sword was picked up by another +man, whereupon, at the Count's command, it was hung upon a peg in the +wall, and the dagger attached to the handle of the sword. The two men +were then ordered to guard me, one at each side. They were burly +fellows, armed with daggers. + +"Well, Monsieur, what next?" said I in as scornful a tone as I could +command. + +"Patience, Monsieur; you will see." + +There was a low, narrow door in the side of the hall, near the front. At +the Count's bidding, an attendant opened this, and I was marched into a +very small, bare room, the ceiling of which was scarce higher than my +head. This apartment had evidently been designed as a doorkeeper's box. +It's only furniture was a bench. A mere eyehole of a window in the +corner looked upon the court-yard. + +"Remember," I called back to the Count, "you cannot put injuries upon me +with impunity. An account will be exacted in due time." + +"Remember, you," he replied with a laugh, "that you have murdered two +men here, and are subject to my sentence." + +My guards left me in the room, and stationed themselves outside the +door, which was then closed upon me. There was no lock to the door, but +it was possible to fasten the latch on the outside, and this was done, +as I presently discovered by trial. + +I sat on the bench, and gazed out upon as much of the court-yard as the +window showed. Suddenly the window was darkened by something placed +against it outside,--a man's doublet propped up by a pike, or some such +device. I could not guess why they should cut off my light, unless as a +mere addition to the tediousness of my restraint. I disdained to show +annoyance, though I might have thrust my arm through the window and +displaced the obstruction. Later I saw the reason: it was to prevent my +seeing who passed through the court-yard. + +It seemed an hour until suddenly my door was flung open. In the doorway +appeared the Captain, beckoning me to come forth. I did so. + +Half-way up the hall, a little at one side, stood the Count. Near him, +and looking straight toward me, sat the Countess in a great arm-chair. +Besides the Captain and myself, those two were the only persons in the +hall. Even my guards had disappeared, and all doors leading from the +hall were shut. + +The Countess, as I have said, was looking straight toward me. Her eyes +had followed the Captain to my door, she wondering what was to come out +of it. For assuredly she had not expected me to come out of it. She had +still trusted that I had gone away in the night--the Count had not told +her otherwise. Her surprise at seeing me was manifest in her startled +look, which was followed by a low cry of compassionate regret. + +The Count had been watching her with a painful intentness. He had not +even turned his eyes to see me enter, having trusted to his ears to +apprise him. At her display of concern, the skin of his face tightened; +though that display was no more than any compassionate lady might have +given in a similar case. Even the Count, after a moment, appeared to +think more reasonably of her demeanour. + +I bowed to her, and stood waiting for what might follow, the Captain +near me. + +The Count, turning toward me for an instant to show it was I he +addressed, but fixing his gaze again upon his wife and keeping it there +while he continued speaking to me, delivered himself thus, with mocking +irony: + +"Monsieur, I will not be so trifling or so churlish as to keep you in +doubt regarding your fate. In this chateau, where the right of doom lies +in me, you have been, by plain evidence and your own confession, guilty +of the murder of two men. As to what other and worse crimes you have +intended, I say nothing. What you have done is already too much. There +is only one sufficient punishment. You may thank me for granting you +time of preparation. I will give you two days--a liberal allowance, you +will admit--during which you shall be lodged in a secure place, where in +solitude and quiet you may put yourself in readiness for death." + +The Countess rose with a cry, "No, no!" Her face and voice were charged +with something so much more than mere compassion, that I forgot my doom +in a wild sweet exultation. At what he perceived, the Count uttered a +fierce, dismayed ejaculation. The Captain looked at once triumphant and +resentful. + +"It is enough!" cried the Count hoarsely. "The truth is clear!" + +He motioned me away, and the Captain pushed me back into the little +room, quickly fastening the door. But my feeling was still one of +ecstasy rather than horror, for still I saw the Countess's tender eyes +in grief for me, still saw her arms reaching out toward me, still heard +her voice full of wild protest at my sentence. It was to surprise her +real feelings that she had been brought to hear, in my presence, my doom +pronounced; and my window had been obstructed that our confrontation +might be as sudden to me as to her, lest by a prepared look I might put +her on her guard. This it was that the Captain had suggested, and +excellently it had served. That moment's revelation of her heart, though +it brought such sweetness into my soul, could only make her fate worse +and my sentence irrevocable. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE RAT-HOLE AND THE WATER-JUG + + +I had not been back in the little room a minute, when it occurred to me +to reach through the window and displace the obstruction. I was in time +to see the Countess escorted back across the court-yard by her husband. +This could mean only that she was again to occupy her prison in the +tower. I was glad at least to know where she was, that I might imagine +her in her surroundings, of which I had obtained so brief a glimpse. + +Presently my door opened slightly, that my breakfast might be passed in +on a trencher; and again an hour later, that the trencher might be taken +out. Soon after that, the door was thrown wide, and a man of some +authority, whom I had already taken to be the seneschal of the chateau, +courteously requested me to step forth. When I did so, he told me my +lodging was ready and bade me follow. At my elbows were two powerful +armed servitors of this strange half-military household, to escort me. + +I had a moment's hope that I might be taken to some chamber in the great +tower; I should thus be nearer the Countess. But such was not the +Count's will. I was conducted to the hall staircase, and up two flights, +thence along the corridor past my former sleeping chamber, and finally +by a small stairway to a sort of loft at that very corner of the chateau +against which the great tower was built. + +It was a small chamber with one window and an unceiled roof that sloped +very low at the sides. I suppose it had been used as a store-room for +rubbish. Two worm-eaten chests were its only furniture. On one of these +were a basin, a jug of water, and a towel. On the other were a blanket, +a sheet, and a pillow. Here then were my bed and wash-stand. There was +still space left on the first chest to serve me as dining-table. + +Before I could find anything to say upon these meagre accommodations for +a gentleman's last lodging in this world, the seneschal bade me +good-day, the door was closed and locked, and I was left to my +reflections. The room not having been designed as a prison, there was no +grilled opening in the door, and I was not exposed to the guard's view. + +The Count might have kept me in my former chamber, thought I, the time +being so short. Perhaps he feared my making a rope of bed clothes and +dropping to the terrace. As for the little room off the hall, it had no +real lock, and the guards might become sleepy at night. But why did he +make this respite of two days? Was it to give himself time for devising +some peculiarly humiliating and atrocious form of death? Or was it mere +ironical pretence of mercy in his justice, and might I be surprised with +the fatal summons as soon as he was in the humour for it? To this day, I +do not clearly know,--or whether he had other matters for his immediate +care; or indeed whether, at the instant of pronouncing my sentence in +order to discover the Countess's feelings, he actually intended carrying +it out. + +In any case, now that her heart had betrayed itself, I had little hope +of mercy. What came nearest to daunting me was the thought that, if I +died, my people might never know for certain what had been my fate, for +the Count would probably keep my death a secret, his own dependents +being silenced by interest and fear. Yet I felt I had no right to +complain of Fate. I had come from home to see danger, and here it was, +though my present adventure was something different from cutting off the +moustaches of Brignan de Brignan. And still my emotions were sweetened +by the sense of what the Countess had disclosed, fatal though that +disclosure might be to her also. + +Such were the materials of my thoughts for the first hour or so, while I +sat on the chest that was to be my bed. But suddenly there came a +sharper consciousness of what death meant, and how closely it threatened +me. I sprang up, to bestir myself in seeking if there might be some +means of escape. The situation had changed since I had willingly +lingered at the chateau in order to be near the Countess. The reluctance +to betake myself from the place where she was, had not diminished; but I +had awakened to the knowledge that my only hope of ever seeing her again +lay in present flight, if that were possible. I could serve her better +living than dead, better free than a prisoner. + +I went to the window, which was wide enough for me to put my head out. +My room was at the top of the building, and only the great tower, partly +visible at my right, rose higher toward the sky. Below me was a narrow +paved space between the house and the outer wall: it ran from the base +of the tower at my right, to the garden, far at the left. Beyond the +wall was the moat: beyond that, the country toward Montoire. If I could +let myself down to the earth by any means, I should still be on the +wrong side of the wall. But I might find the postern key, buried under +the rose bush near the postern itself. + +I looked around the room, but there was nothing that would serve as a +means of descent, except the bedding on the larger chest. This I +examined: it was the scantiest, being merely a strip of blanket and a +strip of sheet, together just sufficient to cover the top of the chest. +With the pillow cover and towel, they would not reach half-way to the +ground. + +Perhaps the chests might contain old clothes, or other materials that +would serve to eke out. I tried the lids, but both were strongly locked. +The larger chest looked very ancient and rotten: its hinges might be +loose. I pulled one end of it out from against the wall, to examine the +back. The hinges were immovable. Despondent, I ran my hand further down +the back at random, and, to my surprise, felt a small irregular hole, +through which I could thrust two fingers. It was evidently a rat hole, +for I saw now that when close to the wall, it must have corresponded to +a chink between the stones thereof. + +My fingers inside the chest came in contact with nothing but rat-bitten +papers, to my sad disappointment. But, having gone so far, I was moved +to continue until I had patiently twisted a few documents out through +the hole. I straightened and glanced at them. The edges were fretted by +the rats. One writing was an account of moneys expended for various +wines; another was a list of remedies for the diseases of horses; but +the third, when I caught its meaning and saw the name signed at the end, +made my heart jump. It was the last page of a letter, and ran thus: + + "One thing is certain, by our careful exclusion of fools and + weaklings, our plot is less liable to premature discovery than any + of those which have hitherto been attempted, and, as you say, if we + fail we have but to lock ourselves up in our chateaux till all + blows over, the K. being so busy at present with the Dutch. In that + event, my dear Count, the Chateau de Lavardin is a residence that + some of the rest of us will envy you. Your servant ever, + + "COLLOT D'ARNIOL." + +The name was that of the chief mover of the late conspiracy, who had +paid the penalty of his treason without betraying his accomplices. If +this was indeed his signature, with which the authorities were certainly +acquainted, the scrap of paper, were I free to carry it to Paris, would +put the life of the Count de Lavardin in my hands. + +To be possessed of such a weapon--such a means of rescuing the Countess +from her fearful situation--and yet lack freedom wherein to use it, was +too vexing for endurance. I resolved, rather than wait inactively for +death with that weapon useless, to employ the most reckless means of +escape. Meanwhile I pocketed the fragment of letter, and thrust the +other papers back into the chest, which I then pushed to its former +place. + +After thinking awhile, I poured the water from the heavy earthen jug +into the basin. I then sat down on the large chest, leaning forward, +elbows upon knees, my head upon my hands, the empty jug beside me as if +I had lazily left it there after drinking from it. In this attitude I +waited through a great part of the afternoon, until I began to wonder if +the Count was not going to send me any more food that day. + +At last, when the sun was low, I heard my lock turned, the door opened +into the room, and one of my new guards entered with a trencher of bread +and cold meat. With the corner of my eye, I saw that nobody was +immediately outside my door; so I assumed that my other guard, if there +were still two, was stationed at the foot of the short flight of stairs +leading to my room. The man with the food, having cast a look at me as I +sat in my listless attitude, passed me in order to put the trencher on +the other chest, which was further from the door. + +The instant his back was toward me, I silently grasped the earthen jug, +sprang after him, and brought the jug down upon the back of his head +with all my strength while he was leaning forward to place the trencher. +He staggered forward. I gave him a second blow, and he sprawled upon the +chest, which stopped his fall. + +I ran to the open door, pushed it almost shut, and waited behind it, the +jug raised in both hands. My blows and the guard's fall had not been +without noise. + +"Hola! what's that?" cried somebody outside and a little below. I gave +no answer, and presently I heard steps rapidly mounting to my door. Then +the door was lightly pushed, but I stopped it; whereupon the head of my +other guard was thrust in through the narrow opening. Down came my jug, +and the man dropped to his hands and knees, in the very act of drawing +his weapons. I struck him again, laying him prostrate. Then I dragged +him into the room, and tried to wrest his dagger from his grasp. Finding +this difficult, I ran back to the first guard, took his dagger from its +sheath as he was beginning to come to, wielded my jug once more to delay +his awakening, and, stepping over the second man's body, passed out of +the room. The man with the trencher had left the key in the lock. I +closed the door and turned the key, which I put in my pocket. I then +hastened down the stairs, fled along the deserted passage, descended the +main stairway to the story below, traversed without a moment's pause the +rooms leading to the picture gallery, crossed that and found the door at +the end unlocked, ran down the stairs of the Countess's former +apartments, unlocked the door to the garden, and sped along the walk +toward the postern. In all this, I had not seen a soul: I was carried +forward by a bracing resolve to accomplish my escape or die in +attempting it, as well as by an inspiriting faith in the saying of the +Latin poet that fortune favours the bold, and by a feeling that for me +everything depended on one swift, uninterrupted flight. + +I gained the postern; fell on my knees by the nearest rose bush, and, +choosing a spot where the soil swelled a little, dug rapidly with the +dagger, throwing the earth aside with my hand. In my impatience, much +time seemed to go: I feared that here at last I was stayed: great drops +fell from my brow upon my busy hands: I trembled and could have wept for +vexation. But suddenly my dagger struck something hard, and in a moment +I grasped the key. It opened the lock. I stood upon the ledge outside, +and re-locked the door; then dashed across the plank over the moat, and +made for the forest. + +I had no time to spare. My guards might be already returned to +consciousness and doing their best to alarm the house from within their +prison. Bloodhounds might soon be on my track. I ran along the edge of +the forest, therefore, which covered my movements till I was past the +village of St. Outrille, close to Montoire. I then altered my pace to a +walk, lest a running figure in the fields might attract the notice of +the Count's watchman on the tower; and, going in the lurching manner of +a rustic, came to a road by which I crossed the river and gained the +town. I entered the inn, sought the host, and called for my bill, +baggage, and horse. + +The innkeeper did not recognize me at first, and, when he did, showed +great wonder and curiosity at my absence. He was inclined to be +friendly, though, and, when he perceived I was in haste, did not delay +my departure with inquisitive talk. I saw that my horse had been +properly cared for in my absence, and was glad to be on its back again, +the more because I should thus leave no further scent for bloodhounds to +follow. + +I rode out of the archway and turned my horse toward the road for Les +Roches and Paris. As I crossed the square, I could not help glancing +over my right shoulder toward the Lavardin road. In doing so, I happened +to see a young man coming out of the church, whose face I knew. I +thought a moment, then reined my horse around to intercept him, and, as +he was about to pass, said in a low voice: + +"Good evening, Hugues." + +He stopped in surprise, recalling my features but not my identity. I +leaned over my horse's neck, and spoke in an undertone: + +"You will remember I met you on your way back from Sable, whither you +had carried a certain lady's message. I have since heard of you from +that lady. She is in a most unhappy plight, and so is her maid +Mathilde." + +The young miller turned pale at this. + +"I have just escaped from the chateau," I continued, "where the Count +meant to kill me. I am going as fast as possible to Paris, where I can +use means to render him powerless. But that will take time, and +meanwhile the worst may befall the Countess--and no doubt her faithful +Mathilde also. They are imprisoned in the tower. I thank God I have met +you, for now there is one friend here to whose solicitude I may leave +that unfortunate lady and her devoted maid while I am away." + +"Monsieur," said he, with deep feeling, "I know no reason why you should +play a trick on me, and you don't look as if you were doing so. I will +trust you, therefore. But can you not come to my house, where we can +talk fully?" + +"Where is your house?" + +"About a quarter of a league down that road." He pointed toward the road +that ran northward from the square, as my road ran northeastward. "When +you are ready to go on, you can get the Paris road by a lane, without +coming back to the town." + +There were good reasons against my losing any time before starting for +Paris. But it was well, on the other hand, for Hugues to know exactly +how matters stood at the chateau. I put my reasons hastily to him, and +he said he could promise me a safe hiding-place at his mill. And I could +travel the faster in the end for a rest now, which I looked as if I +needed,--in truth, I had slept little and badly in the hall the previous +night, and the day's business had told upon me. So, perhaps most because +it was pleasant to be with a trusty companion who shared my cause of +anxiety, I agreed to go to his house for supper, and to set out after +night-fall. + +"Good!" said Hugues. "Then you had best ride ahead, Monsieur, so we are +not seen together. You can leave me now as if you had been merely asking +your way. If you ride slowly when you are out of the town, I shall catch +up." + +I did as he suggested, and he soon overtook me on the road. His house +proved to be a cottage of good size built against a mill, with a small +barn at one side of the yard and a stable at the other. When I had +dismounted at his door, we unsaddled and unbridled my horse, so that it +might pass for a new horse of his own if pursuers looked into his +stable. He then called his boy and his woman-servant, and told them what +to say if anybody came inquiring. We carried my saddle, bridle, and +portmanteau through the cottage to the mill, and thence to a small +cellar which was reached by means of a well-concealed trap-door in the +mill-floor. This cellar should be my refuge in case the Count's men came +there seeking me. + +"I made this hiding-place," said Hugues, moving his candle about to show +how well floored and walled it was, "because one could never say when +Mathilde, living in that fearful chateau, might want a place to fly to. +She would not leave her mistress, you know, though the Countess's other +women went gladly enough when the Count sent them off. Nobody knows +there is anything between Mathilde and me, Monsieur,--except the +Countess. It is safer so. We have been waiting for the Count to die, so +that all might be well with the Countess, for Mathilde could marry me +then with easy mind." + +"I hope that God will send that time soon," said I. + +"But meanwhile, this present danger?" said Hugues. + +We returned to the living-room of the cottage, and talked of the matter +while we had supper. I told Hugues everything, misrepresenting only so +far as to make it appear that the Count's jealousy was still entirely +unfounded, and that he had mistaken the Countess's feelings at our +confrontation. Whatever Hugues may have thought upon this last point, he +made no comment thereon; but he showed the liveliest sense of the +increased danger in which the Countess stood. He feared that my escape +would make her position still worse, and that her hours might be already +numbered. He considered there was not time for me to go to Paris and +return: the Countess's rescue ought to be attempted promptly, or the +attempt would be too late. + +In all this, he but echoed the feeling that had come back to me with +double force while I told him the situation. But there was the +Countess's determination not to flee. Hugues said that as this +determination must be overcome for the Countess's own sake, any pressure +that could be brought to bear upon her feelings would be justifiable. +Let it be urged upon her that if she persisted in waiting for death, +Mathilde's life also would doubtless be sacrificed; let every argument, +every persuasion be employed; let me beseech, let me reproach, let me +even use imperative means if need be. Suddenly, as he talked, I saw a +way by which I thought she might be moved. It was one chance, but enough +to commit me to the effort. + +The question now was, how to communicate with the Countess, and to +accomplish the rescue. This Hugues and I settled ere we went to bed. I +slept that night in the mill, by the trap-door. Hugues lay awake, +listening for any alarm. None came, and in the morning we agreed that +either the Count had elected not to seek me at all, or had traced me to +the inn, and, learning I had taken horse, supposed I was far out of the +neighbourhood. I stayed indoors all that day, while Hugues was absent in +furtherance of our project, the woman and boy being under strict orders +as to their conduct in the event of inquiries. In the evening Hugues +returned with various acquisitions, among them being a sword for me, and +a long rope ladder, both obtained at Troo. + +We awaited the fall of night, then set out. I upon my horse, Hugues +riding one of his and leading the other. We went by obscure lanes, +crossed the river, gained the forest, and lingered in its shades till +the church clock of Montoire struck eleven. We then proceeded through +the forest, near the edge, till we were behind the Chateau de Lavardin. + +Besides the rope-ladder, we had with us a cross-bow that Hugues owned, a +long slender cord, and a paper on which I had written some brief +instructions during the afternoon. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +THE ROPE LADDER + + +The night was starlit, though the moon would come later. We hoped to be +away from the chateau before it rose. There was a gentle breeze, which +we rather welcomed as likely to cover what little noise we might make. + +Leaving our horses tied in the forest, and taking the cross-bow and +other things, we stole along the moat skirting the Western wall, till we +were opposite the great tower. It rose toward the sky, sheer from the +black water that separated us from it by so few yards. We gazed upward, +and I pointed out the window which I thought, from its situation, must +be that of the Countess, if she still occupied her former prison. + +Our first plan depended upon her still occupying that prison, or some +other with an unbarred window in that side of the tower; and upon her +being still accompanied by Mathilde. + +If the man on top of the tower were to look down now, thought I! We had +considered that chance. It was not likely he would come to the edge of +the tower and look straight down. His business apparently was to watch +the road at a distance and in both directions. He could do this best +from the Northeastern part of the tower. From what I knew now, I could +guess why the Count had stationed him there: a conspirator never knows +when he is safe from belated detection and a visit of royal guards. This +accounted also, perhaps as much as the Count's jealousy, for his +inhospitality to strangers, and for the half-military character of his +household. + +Hugues uttered a bird-call, which had been one of his signals to +Mathilde in their meetings. We waited, looking up and wishing the night +were blacker. He repeated the cry. + +Something faintly whitish appeared in the dark slit which I had taken to +be the Countess's window. It was a face. + +"Mathilde," whispered Hugues to me. + +Keeping his gaze upon her, he held up the cross-bow for her notice; then +the bolt, to which we had attached the slender cord. Next, before +adjusting the bolt, he aimed the unbent bow at her window: this was to +indicate what he was about to do. Then he lowered the bow, and looked at +her without further motion, awaiting some sign of understanding from +her. She nodded her head emphatically, and drew it in. + +Hugues fitted the string and the bolt, raised the bow, and stood +motionless for I know not how many seconds; at last the string twanged; +the bolt sang through the air. It did not fall, nor strike stone, and +the cord remained suspended from above: the bolt had gone through the +window. + +"Good!" I whispered in elation; and truly Hugues deserved praise, for he +had had to allow both for the wind and for the cord fastened to the +bolt. + +The cord was soon pulled upward. Our end of it was tied to the rope +ladder, which Hugues unfolded as it continued to be drawn up by +Mathilde. At the junction of cord and ladder was fixed the paper with +instructions. Mathilde could not overlook this nor mistake its purpose. +When the ladder was nearly all in the air, its movement ceased. We knew +then that Mathilde had the other end of it. Presently the window became +faintly alight. + +"They have lighted a candle, to read the note," I whispered. + +Hugues kept a careful hold upon our end of the ladder, to which there +was fastened another cord, shorter and stronger than the first. My note +gave instructions to attach the ladder securely to a bed, or some other +suitable object, which, if movable, should then be placed close to the +window, but not so as to impede my entrance. It announced my intention +of visiting the Countess for a purpose of supreme importance to us both. +When the ladder was adjusted, a handkerchief should be waved up and down +in the window. + +"The Countess surely will not refuse to let me come and say what I have +to," I whispered, to reassure myself after we had waited some time. + +"Surely not, Monsieur. She does not know yet what it is," replied +Hugues. + +At that moment the handkerchief waved in the window. + +Hugues drew the ladder taut and braced himself. I grasped one of the +rounds, found a lower one with my foot, and began to mount. The ladder +formed, of course, an incline over the moat. When I had ascended some +way, Hugues, as we had agreed, allowed the ladder to swing gradually +across the moat and hang against the tower, he retaining hold of the +cord by which to draw the lower end back at the fit time. I now climbed +perpendicularly, close to the tower. It was a laborious business, +requiring great patience. Once I ran my eyes up along the tall tower and +saw the stars in the sky; once I looked down and saw them reflected in +the moat: but as these diversions made my task appear the longer, and +had a qualmish effect upon me, I thereafter studied only each immediate +round of the ladder as I came to it. As I got higher, I felt the wind +more; but it only refreshed me. Toward the end I had some misgiving lest +the ladder should lie too tight against the bottom of the window for me +to grasp the last rounds. But this fear proved groundless. Mathilde had +placed a pillow at the outer edge of the sill, for the ladder to run +over; and I had no sooner thrust my hand into the window than it was +caught in a firm grasp and guided to the proper round. Another step +brought my head above the sill: at the next, I had two arms inside the +long, shaft-like opening; my body followed, as Mathilde's receded. I +crawled through; lowered myself, hands and knees, to the couch beneath; +leaped to the floor, and kneeling before the Countess, kissed her hand. + +She was standing, and her dress was the same blue robe in which I had +seen her in the same room two nights before. The candle was on a small +table, which held also an illuminated book and an image of the Virgin, +and above which a crucifix hung against the wall. Besides the bed at the +window, there were another bed, a trunk, a chair, and a three-legged +stool. + +The Countess's face was all anxiety and question. + +"Thank God you are still safe!" said I. + +"And you!" she replied. "Brigitte told us you had escaped. I had prayed +your life might be saved. But now you put yourself in peril again. I had +hoped you were far away. Oh, Monsieur, what is it brings you back to +this house of danger?" + +"My going has surely made it a house of greater danger to you. It is a +marvel the Count has not already taken revenge upon you for my escape. I +thank God I am here while you still live." + +"My life is in God's hands. Was it to say this that you have risked +yours again, Monsieur? Oh, your coming here but adds to my sorrow." + +"Hear what sorrow you will cause, Madame, if you refuse to be saved +while there is yet time. I ask you to consider others. Below, waiting +for us, is Hugues, who has enabled me to come here to-night. You know +how that good brave fellow loves Mathilde. And you know that if you die, +Mathilde will share your fate, for the Count will wish to give his own +story of your death." + +"But Mathilde must not stay to share my fate. She must go away with you +now, while there is opportunity." + +"I will not stir from your side, Madame,--they will have to tear me away +when they come to kill you," said Mathilde, and then to me, "They have +not sent Madame any food to-day. I think the plan is to starve us." + +"Horrible!" I said. "That, no doubt, is because of my escape. But who +knows when the Count, in one of the rages caused by his fancies, may +turn to some method still more fearful. Madame, how can you endure this? +Why, it is to encourage his crime, when you might escape!" + +"Monsieur, you cannot tempt me with sophistries. What God permits--" + +"Has not God permitted me to come here, with the means of escape? Avail +yourself of them--see if God will not permit that." + +"We know that God permits sin, Monsieur, for his own good reasons. It is +for us to see that we are not they to whom it is permitted." + +"But can you think it a sin to save yourself?" + +"It is always a sin to break vows, Monsieur. And now--to go with you, of +all men--would be doubly a sin." She had lowered her voice, and she +lowered her eyes, too, and drew slightly back from me. + +"Then go with Hugues, Madame," said I, my own voice softened almost to a +whisper. "Only let me follow at a little distance to see that you are +safe. And when you are safe, finally and surely, I will go away, and we +shall be as strangers." + +Tears were in her eyes. But she answered: + +"No, Monsieur; I should still be a truant wife--still a breaker of vows +made to the Church and heaven." + +"Then you would rather die, and have poor Mathilde die after +you--Mathilde, who has no such scruples?" + +"Mathilde must go away with you to-night. I command her--she will not +disobey what may be the last orders I shall ever give her." + +"Madame, I have never disobeyed yet, but I will disobey this time. I +will not leave you." So said Mathilde, with quiet firmness. + +"Ah, Mathilde, it is unkind, unfair! You will save yourself for Hugues's +sake." + +"I will save myself when you save yourself, Madame; not before." + +The Countess sank upon the chair, and turning to the Virgin's image, +said despairingly: + +"Oh, Mother of heaven, save this child from her own fidelity!" + +"It is not Mathilde alone that you doom," I now said, thinking it time +to try my last means. "It is not only that you will darken the life of +poor Hugues. There is another who will not leave Lavardin if you will +not: one who will stay near, sharing your danger; and who, if you die, +will seek his own death in avenging you." + +"Oh, no, Monsieur!" she entreated. "I was so glad to learn you had +escaped. Do not rob me of that consolation. Do not stay at Lavardin. +Live!--live and be happy, for my sake. So brave--so tender--the world +needs you; and you must not die for me--I forbid you!" + +"You will find me as immovable as Mathilde," said I. + +She looked from one to the other of us, and put forth her hands +pleadingly; then broke down into weeping. + +"Oh, will you make my duty the harder?" she said. "God knows I would +gladly die to save you." + +"It is not dying that will save us. The only way is to save yourself." + +"Monsieur, you shall not drive me to sin by your temptations! Heaven +will save you both in spite of yourselves. That will be my reward for +putting this sin from me." + +"You persist in calling it a sin, Madame: very well. But is it not +selfish to go free from sin at the expense of others? If one can save +others by a sin of one's own, is it not nobler to take that sin upon +one's soul? Nay, is it not the greater sin to let others suffer, that +one's own hands may be clean?" + +"Oh, you tempt me with worldly reasoning, Monsieur. Kind mother of +Christ," she said, fixing her eyes upon the image of Mary, "what shall I +do? Be thou my guide--speak to my soul--tell me what to do!" + +After a moment, the Countess again turned to me, still perplexed, +agitated, unpersuaded. + +"Madame," said I, "when one considers how soon the Count de Lavardin +must surely suffer for crimes of which you know nothing, your death at +his hands seems the more grievous a fate. Do you know that he is a +traitor?--that his treason will soon be known to the King's ministers? +If his jealousy had only waited a short while, or if my discovery had +occurred a little earlier, his death would have spared you all this. But +now, if you are not starved or slain before he is arrested, he will +surely kill you when he finds himself about to be taken.--My God, I had +not thought of that when I resolved to go to Paris at once! Oh, Madame, +fly now while there is chance! I assure you that doom is hovering over +the Count's head; if you stay here, I cannot go to Paris; but Hugues +shall go with this paper in my stead." + +"What is the paper, Monsieur? What do you mean by this talk of the Count +and treason?" she asked in sheer wonder. + +"It is a proof of the Count's participation in the late conspiracy. I +found it in the room where I was imprisoned. And come what may, I will +see that it goes to Paris for the inspection of the Duke de Sully. And +then there will be a short shrift for the Count de Lavardin, I promise +you." + +"But in that case, it would be you that caused his death, Monsieur!" she +exclaimed. + +"The executioner would cause his death--and the law. I should be but the +humble instrument of heaven to bring it to pass." + +"But you would be the instrument of my husband's death, Monsieur! That +must not be. You, of all men! No, no. Why, it would be an eternal +barrier between us--in thought and kind feeling, I mean,--in the next +world too. Oh, no; you must not use that paper, nor cause it to be +used." + +"But, Madame, he is a traitor. What matters it whether I or another--it +is only justice--my duty to the King." + +"But you do not understand. I should not dare even pray for you! And I +must not let you denounce him--I must prevent your using that paper. I +am his wife, Monsieur,--I must prevent. Otherwise, I should be +consenting to my husband's death!" + +"He has no scruples about consenting to yours, Madame." + +"The sin is on his part, then, not on mine. Come, Monsieur, you must let +me destroy that paper." She advanced toward me. + +"No, Madame; not I. Nay, I will use force to keep it, if need be! It is +my one weapon, my one means of vengeance." I tore my wrist from her +hand, and put the paper back into my inner pocket. + +"Then, Monsieur, I have said my last to you. I must put you out of my +thoughts, out of my prayers even. And if I find means, I must warn my +husband." + +"Listen, Madame. There is one condition upon which I will destroy this +paper and keep silence." + +She uttered a joyful cry. I knew that what she thought of was not her +husband's fate, but the barrier she had mentioned. + +"It is that you will escape with me at once," I said. + +The joy passed out of her face; but she was silent. + +"Consider," I went on. "Not merely your own life, not merely mine, not +merely Mathilde's, and the happiness of Hugues: it is in your power to +save your husband's life also, and to save his soul from the crime of +your murder, if there be any degree between act and intent. Is it not a +sin and a folly to refuse? Think of the blood already shed by reason of +this matter. Why should there be more?" + +At last she wavered. I turned to Mathilde, to speak of the order in +which we should descend the ladder. + +At that instant I heard the key begin to grate in the lock. + +"Some one is coming in!" whispered the Countess in alarm. + +Instantly I pushed Mathilde upon the couch beneath the window, in a +sitting posture, so that her body would conceal the end of the rope +ladder. The next moment I had pulled the other bed a little way out from +the wall, and was crouching behind it. + +The door opened, and I heard the noise of men entering with heavy tread. +Then the door closed. There was a sound of swift movement, then a scream +from Mathilde and a terrified cry from the Countess, both voices being +suddenly silenced at their height. I raised my head, and saw two +powerful men in black masks, one of whom was grasping the Countess by +the throat with his left hand while, with his right assisted by his +teeth, he was endeavouring to pass a looped cord around her neck. The +other man had both hands about the neck of Mathilde, that he might +sufficiently overpower her to apply a similar cord. + +I leaped over the bed, and upon the man who was trying to strangle the +Countess. Mad to save and avenge her, I sank my dagger into the back of +his shoulder, and he fell without having seen who had attacked him. The +murderer who was struggling with Mathilde immediately turned from her +and drew sword to attack me, at the same time crying out, "Garoche, to +the rescue!" + +[Illustration: "I LEAPED OVER THE BED, AND UPON THE MAN WHO WAS TRYING +TO STRANGLE THE COUNTESS."] + +As I could not get the dagger out of the other man's shoulder joint in +time, I drew my sword, and parried my new antagonist's thrust. The door +now opened, and in came another man with drawn sword, not masked: he +was, I suppose, the man on guard on the landing. Seeing how matters +stood, he joined in the attack upon me. I backed into a corner, knocking +over the chair of the Countess, who had run to Mathilde. The two women +stood clasping each other, in terror. Suddenly my first assailant cried, +"I leave him to you for a moment, Garoche," and ran and transferred the +key from the outside to the inside of the door, which he then closed, so +as to lock us all in. This was doubtless to prevent the exit of the +Countess and Mathilde, the purpose being to keep the night's doings in +that room as secret as possible even from the rest of the household. +This man then pocketed the key, and, while Garoche continued to keep me +occupied in my corner, ran to a side of the cell and began working with +an iron wedge at a stone in the floor. He soon raised this, showing it +to be a thin slab, and left exposed a dark hole. He then turned to the +Countess, seized her around the waist, and tried to drag her toward the +opening. His instructions had been, no doubt, to slay the women without +bloodshed and drop the bodies through this secret aperture, but the +unexpected turn of affairs had made him decide to precipitate the end +and not strangle them first. Wild with horror at the prospect of their +meeting so hideous a death, I sprang into the air, and ran my sword +straight into the panting mouth of Garoche, so that the point came out +at the back of his neck. He dropped, and I disengaged my weapon barely +in time to check the onslaught of the other man, who, seeing Garoche's +fate, had left the Countess and come at me again. I was out of breath +after the violent thrusts I had made, and a mist now clouded my eyes. I +know not how this last contest would have gone, had not Mathilde, +recovering her self-command, drawn the sword of the man who had fallen +first, and, holding it with both hands, pushed it with all her strength +into my adversary's back. + +I wiped my weapons on the clothes of the slain murderers. The Countess +fell on her knees and thanked heaven for our preservation. I then went +to the opening made by the removal of the stone slab: peering down, I +could see nothing. I took the key of the door from the pocket of its +last holder, and dropped it through the hole, while the Countess and +Mathilde leaned over me, listening. Some moments passed before we heard +anything; then there came the sound of the key striking mud in the black +depths far below. The secret shaft, then, led to the bottom of the +tower. + +The Countess shuddered, and whispered: "Come, let us not lose a moment." + +I first lifted the masks, and recognized the murderers as fellows I had +seen lounging in the court-yard. Then I gave directions for descending +the ladder. I should have preferred being the last to leave the room but +that I thought it necessary to support the Countess in her descent and +Mathilde firmly refused to precede us. As the ladder might not hold the +weight of three, Mathilde would see us to the ground, and then follow. + +Two could not go out of the window at once, so I backed through first, +and waited when my feet were planted on the ladder, my breast being then +against the edge of the window sill. Madame followed me. I guided her +feet with one hand, and placed them on the ladder, having descended just +sufficiently to make room for her. I then lowered myself another round, +and she, holding on to a round in the window shaft with one hand, +grasped the first round outside with the other, emerged entirely from +the opening, and let me guide her foot a step lower. We then proceeded +downward in this manner, I holding my head and body well back from the +ladder so that her feet were usually on a level with my breast: thus if +she showed any sign of weakness, I could throw an arm around her. I had +first thought of having her clasp me around the neck, and so descending +with her, but once upon the ladder, I saw no safe way for her to get +behind me, or indeed to turn from facing the ladder. So we came down as +I say, while I kept as well as I could between her and the possibility +of falling. Frequently I asked in a whisper if all was well with her, +and she answered yes. + +When we were near the moat, I felt the ladder move from the wall and +knew that Hugues was drawing it toward him. I warned the Countess of our +change from a vertical to an inclined position, and so we were swung +across, and found ourselves above solid earth, on which we presently set +foot. + +"Best take Madame the Countess to the horses while I wait for Mathilde," +whispered Hugues to me, letting the ladder swing back; but Madame would +not go till the maid was safe beside us. Mathilde, who had watched our +descent, now drew her head in, and speedily we saw her feet emerge in +its stead. She came down the ladder with ease and rapidity, such were +her strength and self-possession. As soon as she touched the ground, +Hugues swung back the ladder to stay, and took up his cross-bow. + +"Come," I whispered, and we turned our backs to that grim tower and +hastened along the moat to the forest, passing on the way the high gable +window of what had been my prison, the postern which I had such good +reason to remember, and the oak from which I had seen Hugues display the +handkerchief. Scarce a word was spoken till we came to the horses. I +assisted the Countess to mount one of Hugues's two, she making no +difficulty about accommodating herself to a man's saddle. By that time +Hugues and Mathilde were on his second horse. I got upon my own, and we +started. Our immediate purpose was to go to Hugues's house by the woods +and lanes, fording the river below Montoire. + +As we came out of the forest, beyond St. Outrille, the moon rose, and +against the luminous Eastern sky we could see the dark tower we had left +behind,--tower of blood and death, on which I hoped never to set eyes +again. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +THE PARTING + + +We hoped to be at Hugues's house before the Countess's flight should be +discovered. Hugues and I discussed the chances as we rode. The Count +would probably give his murderous agents ample time before going to see +why they did not come to report the deed accomplished. He would then +lose many minutes in breaking into the cell, and again in questioning +the watchman on the tower--who could not have seen us in the woods and +distant lanes--and considering what to do. The bloodhounds would +doubtless be put upon the Countess's scent, but they would lose it at +the place where we had taken horse. And then, Hugues thought, having +tracked us into the forest, the Count would assume that we had continued +our flight through it without change of direction, and he would push on +to St. Arnoult, and along the road to Chateaurenault and Tours. This +was, indeed, the most likely supposition. The Count would scarce expect +to find us harboured in any house in the neighbourhood, and he knew +nothing of Hugues's attachment to Mathilde. Still I thought it well that +the Countess should travel on as far as possible that night, and I asked +her if she felt able to do so after stopping at Hugues's house for some +food. + +"Oh, yes," she answered compliantly. + +I then broke to her that Hugues's and I had provided a suit of boy's +clothes which she might substitute for her present attire at his house, +and so travel with less likelihood of attracting notice. To this she +made no objection. She seemed, on leaving the chateau, to have resigned +herself, almost languidly, to guidance. A kind of listlessness had come +over her, which I attributed to exhaustion of spirit after all she had +experienced. + +I then told her that Hugues and I had decided it best that Mathilde +should stay at his house for the present, keeping very close and having +the hiding-place accessible, while I went on with the Countess. Hugues +himself, who could entirely trust his old woman-servant and his boy, +would see us as far as to our first resting-place. + +To these proposals also she said "Very well," in a tone of +half-indifference, but she cast a long, sad look at Mathilde, at mention +of leaving her. + +"And then, Madame," I went on, "as to our journey after we leave +Hugues's house. You have said you are without relations or fortune." + +"Alas, yes. A provision for life-maintenance at the convent was all the +fortune left me." + +"In that case, I ask you, in the name of my father and mother, to honour +them as their guest at La Tournoire. I can promise you a safe and +private refuge there: I can promise you the friendship of my mother, the +protection of my father, and his good offices with the King, if need be, +to secure your rightful claims when the Count de Lavardin dies, as he +must before many years." + +"No, no, Monsieur, I shall have no claims. The Count married me without +dowry, and if there be any other claims I surrender them. As for your +generous offer, I cannot think of accepting it. You and I are soon to +separate, and must not see each other again." + +"But, Madame, I need not be at La Tournoire while you are there. I shall +be out in the world, seeking honour and fortune." + +"No, Monsieur, it is not to be thought of. My only refuge is the convent +from which the Count took me." + +"But is it safe to go there? Have you not said yourself that the Count +would take measures to intercept you on the way?" + +"But you and Hugues just now agreed that the Count would probably seek +me on the road to Chateaurenault. That is in the opposite direction to +the convent, which is beyond Chateaudun." + +"But the Count may seek toward the convent when he fails to find you in +the other direction. Or he may take the precaution to send a party that +way at once." + +"We shall be there before he or his emissaries can, shall we not? Once +in the convent, I shall be safe.--And besides, Monsieur,"--her voice +took on a faint touch of mock-laughing bitterness--"he will think I have +run away with you for love, and for a different life than that of a +convent. No; as matters are, it is scarce likely he will seek me in the +neighbourhood of the convent." + +It was then determined that we should make for the convent, which, +curiously, as it was beyond Chateaudun, happened to be upon my road to +Paris. We now arrived at Hugues's gate. + +I dismounted only to help the Countess, and stayed in the road with the +horses, while Hugues led Madame and Mathilde into the cottage. He took +them thence into the mill, that they might eat, and the Countess change +her dress, at the very entrance to the hiding-place. He then returned to +me, the plan being that if we heard pursuit he and I were to mount and +ride on, thus leading our enemies away from the Countess, who with +Mathilde should betake herself to the hiding-place till danger was past. +With Hugues's knowledge of the byways and forest paths, we might be able +to elude the hunt. During this wait we refreshed ourselves with wine and +bread, which the old woman brought, and the boy fed the horses. In a +short time the Countess reappeared, a graceful, slender youth in +doublet, breeches, riding-boots of thin leather, cap, and gloves. Her +undulating hair had been reduced by Mathilde, with a pair of shears, to +a suitable shortness. Mathilde followed her, loth to part. We allowed +little time for leave-taking with the poor girl, and were soon mounted +and away, Hugues leading. + +"I suggest, Madame," said I, as we proceeded along the road, which was +soon shadowed from the moonlight by a narrow wood at our right, "that on +this journey you pass as my young brother, going with me to Paris to the +University. I will say that we have ridden ahead of our baggage and +attendants,--which is literally true, for my baggage remains at Hugues's +house and you have left Mathilde there." + +"Very well, Monsieur," she replied. + +"I should have some name to call you by upon occasion," said I. "I will +travel as Henri de Varion, for De Varion was my mother's name, and if +you are willing to use it--" + +"Certainly, Monsieur. As for a name to call me by upon occasion, there +will be least falsehood in calling me Louis; for my real name is +Louise." + +"Thank you, Madame; and if you have to address me before people, do not +forget to call me Henri." + +"I shall not forget." + +Her manner in this acquiescence was that of one who follows blindly +where a trusted guide directs, but who takes little interest in the +course or the outcome. A kind of forlorn indifference seemed to have +stolen over her. But she listened to the particulars of residence and +history with which I thought it wise to provide ourselves, and briefly +assented to all. She then lapsed into silence, from which I could not +draw her beyond the fewest words that would serve in politeness to +answer my own speeches. + +Meanwhile Hugues led us from the road and across the narrow wood, thence +by a lane and a pasture field to the highway for Vendome and Paris. We +pushed on steadily, passed through Les Roches, which was sound asleep, +and, stopping only now and then to let our horses drink at some stream, +at which times we listened and heard no sound upon the road, we entered +Vendome soon after daylight. + +"Had we better stop here for a few hours?" said I, watching the Countess +and perceiving with sorrow how tired and weak she looked. + +"I think it well, Monsieur," replied Hugues, his eyes dwelling where +mine did. + +"And yet," I said, with a thought of the horror of her being taken, "it +is so few leagues from Lavardin. In such a town, too, the Count's men +would visit all the inns. If we might go on to some village--some +obscure inn. Could you keep up till then, Madame, do you think?" + +"Oh, yes,--I think so." But her pallor of face, her weakness of voice, +belied her words. + +"We should be more closely observed at some smaller place than here," +said Hugues. "Besides, we need not go to an inn here. There is a decent, +close-mouthed woman I know, a butcher's widow, who will lodge you if her +rooms are not taken. It would be best to avoid the inns and go to her +house at once. As like as not, if the Count did hunt this road, he would +pass through the town without guessing you were at private lodgings." + +"It is the best thing we can do," said I, with a blessing upon all +widows of butchers. Hugues guided us to a little street behind the +church of the Trinity, and soon brought the widow's servant, and then +the widow herself, to the door. Her rooms were vacant, and we took two +of them, in the top story, one overlooking the street, the other a +backyard wherein she agreed to let our horses stand. She promised +moreover to say nothing of our presence there, and so, while Hugues led +the horses through the narrow stone-paved passage, the widow showed us +to our rooms. The front one being the larger and better, I left the +Countess in possession of it as soon as we were alone, that she might +rest until the woman brought the food I had ordered. + +When breakfast was set out in the back room, and the Countess opened her +door in answer to my knock, she looked so worn out and ill that I was +alarmed. She had fallen asleep, she said, and my knock had wakened her. +She ate little, and I could see that she was glad to go back and lie +down again. + +I had thought to resume our journey in the evening, and perhaps reach +Chateaudun by a night's riding. But at evening the Countess seemed no +more fit to travel than before. So I decided to stay at the widow's till +Madame was fully recovered. Hugues would have remained with us another +day, but I sent him back to his mill and Mathilde. + +On the morrow the Countess was no better. I took the risk of going out, +obtaining medicine at the apothecary's, and purchasing other necessary +things for both of us which we had not been able to provide before our +flight. I was in dread lest we might have to resort to a physician and +so make discovery that my young brother was a woman. Madame declared her +illness was but exhaustion, and that she would soon be able to go on. +But it was some days before I thought her strong enough to do so. + +We had come into Vendome on a Wednesday: we left it on the following +Monday morning. We encountered nothing troublesome on the road, and +arrived at Chateaudun that Monday night. The Countess endured the +journey fairly well; but her strange, dreamy listlessness had not left +her. + +At Chateaudun as at Vendome, we sought out lodgings in a by-street, and +therein passed the night. We were now but a few hours' ride from the +convent, by Madame's account of its location. Soon I should have to part +from her, with the intention on her side not to see me again, and the +promise on mine to respect that intention. To postpone this moment as +long as possible, I found pretexts for delaying our departure in the +morning; but as afternoon came on she insisted upon our setting out. I +did so with a sorrowful heart, knowing it meant I must take my last +leave of her that evening. + +From our having passed nearly a week without any sign of pursuit, a +feeling of security had arisen in us. If the Count or his men had sought +in this direction, passing through Vendome while we lay quiet in our +back street, that search would probably be over by this time. But even +if chase had not been made simultaneously by various parties on various +roads, there had been time now for search in different directions one +after another. Yet spies might remain posted at places along the roads +for an indefinite period, especially near the convent. But as long as +the risk was only that of encountering a man or two at once, I had +confidence enough. In Vendome I had bought the Countess a light rapier +to wear for the sake of appearance, of course not expecting her to use +it. But though in case of attack I should have to fight alone, I felt +that her presence would make me a match for two at least. + +I tried to avoid falling in with people on the road, but a little way +out from Chateaudun we came upon a country gentleman, of a well-fed and +amiable sort, whose desire for companionship would let us neither pass +ahead nor drop behind. He was followed by three stout servants, and +expressed some concern at seeing two young gentlemen like us going that +road without attendants. + +"Though to be sure," he added, "there seems to be less danger now; but +you must have heard of the band of robbers that haunt the forests about +Bonneval and further on. There has been little news of their doings +lately, and some people think they may have gone to other parts. But who +knows when they will suddenly make themselves heard of again, when least +expected?--'tis always the way." + +He soon made us forget about dangers of the road, however, by his hearty +talk; though, indeed, for all his good-fellowship I would rather have +been alone with Madame in these last moments. About a league from +Chateaudun, he arrived at his own small estate, rich in wines and +orchards; he regretted that we would not stop, and recommended inns for +us at Bonneval and the towns beyond. + +We rode on, the Countess and I, in silence, my own heart too disturbed +for speech, and she in that same dispirited state which had been hers +from the beginning of our flight. Indeed now, when I was so soon to bid +her farewell, she seemed more tired and melancholy, pale and drooping, +than I had yet seen her. As I was sadly noticing this, we came to a +place where a lesser road ran from the highway toward a long stretch of +woods at the right. The Countess drew in her horse, and said, indicating +the branch road: + +"That is my way, Monsieur. I will say adieu here; but I will not even +try to thank you. You have risked your life for me many times over. I +will pray for you--with my last breath." + +"But, Madame," I exclaimed in astonishment, "we are not to say adieu +here. I must see you to the convent." + +"The convent is not so far now. I know the way; and I wish to go there +alone. You will respect my wish, I know: have you not had your way +entirely so far on our journey? You cannot justly refuse me my will +now." She gave a wan little smile as if she knew the argument was not a +fair one. + +"But, Madame,--what can be your reason?--It is not safe. Surely you will +not deny me the happiness of seeing my service fully accomplished,--of +knowing that you are safe at the convent?" + +"I am nearly there. I know the road,--it is a shorter way than the high +roads, but little used. I shall meet no travellers. I fear no danger." + +"But consider, Madame. The danger may be at the very end of your +journey. The Count may have spies within sight of the convent. You may +fall into a trap at the last moment." + +"I can go first to the house of a woodman in the forest, whose wife was +a servant of my mother's. They are good, trustworthy people, and can see +if all is safe before I approach the convent. If there is danger, I can +send word by them to the Mother Superior, who can find means to get me +in secretly at night. You may deem your service accomplished, Monsieur. +I must take my leave now." + +"But it is so strange! What can be your reason?--what can be your +objection to my going with you?" + +"Ah, Monsieur, it may be unfair, but a woman is exempt from having to +give reasons. It is my wish,--is not that enough? I am so deeply your +debtor already,--let me be your debtor in this one thing more.--You have +spent money for me: I have no means of repaying--nay, I will not mention +it,--you have given me so much that is above all price,--your courage +and skill. But enough of this--to speak of such things in my poor way is +to cheapen them. Adieu, Monsieur!--adieu, Henri!" + +She held out her hand, to which I lowered my lips without a word, for I +could not speak. + +"You will go your way when I go mine," she said with tenderness. "To +Paris, perhaps?" + +"To Paris--I suppose so," I said vaguely. + +"This horse belongs to Hugues," she said, stroking the animal's neck. "I +may find means to send it back to him.--Well, adieu! God be with you on +your journey, Monsieur,--and through your life." + +"Oh, Madame!--adieu, if you will have it so! adieu!--adieu, Louis!" + +She smiled acquiescently at my use of the name by which I had had +occasion to call her a few times at our lodging-places. Then, saying +once more, "Adieu, Henri!" she turned her horse's head and started down +the by-road. With a heavy heart, I waited till she had disappeared in +the woods. I had hoped she might look back, but she had not done so. + +A movement of my rein, which I made without intention, was taken by my +horse as a signal to go on, and the creature, resuming its original +direction, kept to the highway and plodded along toward Bonneval and +Paris. + +Never in all my life, before or since, have I felt so alone. What was +there for me to do now? All my care, all my heart, was with the solitary +figure on horseback somewhere yonder in the forest. Had life any object +for me elsewhere? + +Yes, faith!--and I laughed ironically as it came back to my thoughts--I +might now go on to Paris and cut off the moustaches of Brignan de +Brignan! + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +IN THE FOREST + + +But I had not yet come in sight of Bonneval, when fearful misgivings +began to assail me as to what might befall the Countess. I awoke to a +full sense of my folly in yielding to her wish. Her own apparent +confidence of safety had made me, for a time, feel there must be indeed +small danger. I had too weakly given way to her right of command in the +case. I had been too easily checked by respect for what private reason +she might have for wishing to go on without company. I had played the +boy and the fool, and if ever there had been a time when I ought to have +used a man's authority, laughing down her protests, it had been when she +rode away alone toward the forest. + +I turned my horse about, resolved to undo my error as far as I +might,--to go back and take the road she had taken, and not rest till I +knew she was safe in the convent. + +My fears increased as I went. What the country gentleman had said about +robbers came back to my mind. I arrived at the junction of the roads, +and galloped to the woods. Once among the trees, I had to proceed +slowly, for the road dwindled to a mere path, so grown with grass as to +show how little it was ordinarily resorted to. But there were horseshoe +prints which, though at first I took them to be only those of the +Countess's horse, soon appeared so numerously together that I saw there +must have been other travellers there recently. I perceived, too, that +the wood was of great depth and extent, and not the narrow strip I had +supposed. It was, in fact, part of a large forest. I became the more +disquieted, till at last, as the light of day began to die out of the +woods, I was oppressed with a belief as strong as certainty, that some +great peril had already fallen upon her I loved. + +I came into a little green glade, around which I glanced. My heart +seemed to faint within me, for there, by a small stream that trickled +through the glade, was a horse grazing,--a horse with bridle and saddle +but no rider. The rein hung upon the grass, the saddle was pulled awry, +and the horse was that of the Countess. + +I looked wildly in every direction, but she was nowhere to be seen. The +horse raised his head, and whinnied in recognition of me and my animal, +then went on cropping the grass. I rode over to him, as if by +questioning the dumb beast I might learn where his mistress was. There +was no sign of any sort by which I might be guided in seeking her. + +I called aloud, "Madame! madame!" But there was only the faint breeze of +evening among the treetops for answer. + +But the horse could not have wandered far. Whatever had occurred, there +must be traces near. My best course was to search the forest close at +hand: any one of those darkening aisles stretching on every side, like +corridors leading to caves of gloom, might contain the secret: each +dusky avenue, its ground hidden by tangled forest growth, seemed to bid +me come and discover. I dismounted, knowing I could trust my horse to +stay in the glade, and, crossing the stream, explored the further +portion of the path. + +I came to a place where the underbrush at the side of the path was +somewhat beaten aside. I thought I could distinguish where some person +or animal had gone from this place, tramping a sort of barely traceable +furrow through the tangle. I followed this course: it led me back to the +glade. Doubtless the horse had made it. + +I was about to go back along the path, when I noticed a similar +trodden-down appearance along one side of the stream where it left the +glade. Hoping little, I examined this. It brought me, after a few yards, +to a clear piece of turf swelling up around the roots of an oak. And +lying there, on the grassy incline, with her head at the foot of the +oak, was the Countess, as silent and motionless as death, with blood +upon her forehead. + +My own heart leaping, I knelt to discover if hers still moved. Her body +stirred at my touch. I dipped my handkerchief in the stream, and gently +washed away the blood, but revealed no cut until I examined beneath the +hair, when I found a long shallow gash. I hastily cleansed her hair of +the blood as well as I could, with such care as not to cause the wound +to flow anew. All the time I was doing this, my joy at finding her alive +and free was such that I could have sobbed aloud. + +She awoke and recognized me, first smiling faintly, but in a moment +parting her lips in sorrowful surprise, and then, after glancing round, +giving a sigh of profound weariness. + +"Am I then still alive?" she murmured. + +"Yes, Madame;--I thank God from my heart." + +"It is His will," she said. "I had hoped--I had thought my life in this +world was ended." + +"Oh, do not say that. What can you mean?" + +"When they surrounded me--the men who sprang up at the sides of the +path--I thought, 'Yes, these are the robbers the gentleman spoke +of,--God has been kind and has sent them to waylay me: if I resist, I +may be killed, and surely I have a right to resist.' So I drew my sword, +and made a thrust at the nearest. He struck me with some weapon--I did +not even notice what it was, I was so glad when it came swiftly--when I +felt I could not save myself. The blow was like a kiss--the kiss of +death, welcoming me out of this life of sad and bitter prospects." + +"Oh, Madame, how can you talk in this way, when you are still young and +beautiful, and there are those who love you?" + +"You do not know all, Henri. What is there for me in life? I am weak to +complain--weak to long for death--sinful, perhaps, to put myself in its +way, but surely Heaven will pardon that sin,--weak, yes; but, alas, I +cannot help it,--women are weak, are they not? What is before me, then? +I am one without a place in the world--without relations, without +fortune. If I were a man, I might seek my fortune--there are the wars, +there are many kinds of honourable service. But what is there for a +woman, a wife who has run away from her husband?" + +"But Madame, the convent,--you have a right to be maintained there. You +can at least live there, till time annuls the Count's claims upon you. +And then who knows what the future may bring?" + +"The convent--I have told you I should be safe there, and so no doubt I +should if I took the veil--" + +"Nay, Madame, not that, save as a last resort!" + +"Alas, I may not though I would. Do you think I should hesitate if I +were free? How gladly I would bury myself from this world, give myself +at once to Heaven! But that resource--that happiness--is forbidden me. +My mother, as she neared death, saw no security for me but as a +life-guest at a convent. Our small fortune barely sufficed to make the +provision. But she did not wish me to become a nun, and as she feared +the influence of the convent might lead that way, she put me under a +promise never to take the veil. So I am without the one natural resource +of a woman in my position." + +"But do you mean that you will not be safe at the convent merely as a +guest?" + +"The Count may claim the fulfilment of his rights as a husband. He may +use force to take me away. The Mother Superior cannot withhold me from +him; and indeed I fear she would be little inclined to if she could, +unless I consented to take the veil. Before the possibility of my +marriage came up, she was always urging me to apply for a remission of +the vow to my mother, so that I might become a nun. But that I would +never do." + +"But, Madame, knowing all this, how could you select the convent as your +refuge, and let me bring you so far toward it?" + +"Ah, Monsieur, what place in the world was there for me? And yet I had +to go somewhere, that your life might be saved, and Mathilde's, and the +happiness of poor Hugues. There was no other way to draw you far from +that chateau of murder, no other way to detach Mathilde from one who +could bring her nothing but calamity. And to-day, when I left you, I +thought all this was accomplished, and I was free to go my way in search +of death." + +"Oh, Madame, if I had known what was in your mind! Then you did not mean +to go to the convent?" + +"I meant to go toward the convent. It is further away than I allowed you +to suppose. I felt--I know not why--that death would meet me on the way. +I felt in my heart a promise that God would do me that kindness. At +first I had no idea of what form my deliverer would take. Perhaps, I +thought, I might be permitted to lose my way in the forest and die of +hunger, or perhaps I might encounter some wild beast, or a storm might +arise and cause me to be struck by lightning or a falling bough, or I +might be so chilled and weakened by rain that I must needs lie down and +die. I knew not what shape,--all I felt was, that it waited for me in +the forest. And when the gentleman spoke of robbers, I rejoiced, for it +seemed to confirm my belief." + +"And that is why you would not let me come with you?" + +"Yes, certainly; that you might not be present to drive death away from +me, or meet it with me. I hoped you would go on to Paris, thinking me +safe, and that you would soon forget me. You see how I desire you to +live, and how you can please me only by doing so." + +"And so, when you were at last in the forest--?" + +"At last in the forest, yes--I knew not how long I should have to ride, +but I made no haste,--sooner or later it would come, I thought. The +birds hopping about on the branches seemed to be saying to one another, +'See this lady who has come to meet death.' I crossed a glade, and +something seemed to whisper to my heart, 'Yonder it lies waiting, yonder +in the shades beyond that little stream.' So I went on, and true enough, +before I had gone far, five or six rough men sprang out from the bushes. +Two caught my reins, and one raised a weapon of some kind and bade me +deliver up my purse. I had no purse to deliver, and I feared they might +let me go as not worth their trouble. Then I thought they might hold me +for ransom, or rob me of my clothes, and discover I was a woman. Surely +I was justified in resisting such a fate; so I drew the sword you gave +me, and made a pass at the man with the weapon. He struck instantly, +before I could turn my head aside, and I had time only for a flash of +joy that God had indeed granted me deliverance. I scarce felt the blow, +and then all went out in darkness. I knew nothing after. How did I come +here? This is not the place where I met the robbers." + +"It is very strange," said I. "This is where I found you, only a little +while before you came to life. I had searched the path, but I saw no +robbers. They did not take your horse,--I found it in the glade yonder, +where I have left mine with it. That must be the glade you crossed +before they appeared." + +"But how came you to be here? Ah, did you disregard my wish and follow +me?" + +"Not at first. No; I went on toward Paris as you bade me. But after +awhile I too had a feeling of danger befalling you in this forest. It +was so strong that I could not force myself to go on. So I rode back, +hoping to come in sight of you and follow at a distance. I could not do +otherwise." + +"Ah, Henri, perhaps it is to you I owe the ill service of bringing me +back to life. Who knows?--I might have passed quietly away to death here +had you not come and revived the feeble spark left in me. I must have +been unconscious a long time." + +"Yes; thank God I arrived no later than I did. But why should the +robbers have brought you here? They have not even taken any of your +clothes. See, here is your sword, replaced in its scabbard; even your +cap is here, beside your head--look where the villain's weapon cut +through,--it must have been a sort of halberd. Why should they have +brought you here? Do they mean to return, I wonder?" + +I rose and looked around, peering through the dusky spaces between the +trunks of the trees, and straining my ears. Suddenly, amidst the chatter +of the birds returning to their places for the night, I made out a sound +of distant hoof-beats. + +"Horsemen!" I said. "But these robbers were on foot, were they not?" + +"Yes; I did not see any horses about." + +"Who can these be? There must be several!" + +They were apparently coming from that part of the forest toward which +the Countess had been riding. On account of the brushwood I could not +see them yet. + +"Well," said I, "we had best keep as quiet as possible till they pass. +But they will see our horses in crossing the glade. No, that must not +be. Wait." + +I ran back to the glade, and finding the horses close together, caught +them both, led them down the bed of the stream to where the Countess +was, and made them lie among the underwood, trusting to good fortune +that they would be quiet while the others were passing. + +Soon I could see, above the underbrush that extended to the path beyond +the brook, a procession of steel head-pieces, bearded faces, +breastplates over leather jerkins, and horses' heads. There were six or +seven men in all, one after another. I lay close to the earth and heard +them cross the stream. And then, to my astonishment, they came directly +along the stream by the way I had first come; I rose to my feet just in +time to face the leader as he stopped his horse within a yard of me. + +He gazed over the neck of his steed at me, and the Countess, and our two +animals. He was a tall, well-made, handsome man, seasoned but still +young, with a bronzed, fearless face. + +"Good evening," said he, in a rich, manly voice. "So the youngster has +come to his senses,--and found a friend, it appears." + +"I don't exactly understand you, Monsieur," said I. + +"You are not to blame for that," he replied good-humouredly. "It is true +I met your young friend awhile ago, but as he was more dead than alive +at that time, he couldn't have told you much. How is it with him now?" + +"I am not much hurt, Monsieur," replied the Countess for herself. + +"I scarce knew how I should find you when I returned," said the +newcomer. + +"Then you saw him here before, Monsieur?" said I. + +"Yes; it was I who brought him here,--but, faith! he was in no condition +to see what was going on. We were searching this forest on the King's +business, when I heard something a little ahead, which made me gallop +forward, and there I saw half-a-dozen ruffians around a horse, and one +of them dragging this youth from the saddle. I shouted to my comrades +and charged at the robbers. They dropped the lad, and made off along the +path. I stopped to see to the young gentleman, and ordered my companions +to pursue the rascals. The youngster, let me tell you, seemed quite done +for. He had been struck, as you see, evidently just before he was pulled +from the horse." + +"Yes, Monsieur," said the Countess; "and I knew nothing after the blow." + +"So it appeared," replied the horseman. "I saw that water was needed, +and remembering this stream we had crossed, I carried you to this place +and did what I could for you. But I had to go and recall my men,--I +feared they might be led too far, or separated by the robbers running in +different directions. That explains my leaving you alone. We have a +piece of work in hand, of some importance, and dare not risk anything +for the sake of catching those knaves." + +"I suppose they are part of the band that haunts this forest," said I. + +"No doubt. But this forest is at present the haunt of larger game. Those +scoundrels escaped us this time--they were favoured by the dusk and the +undergrowth. I was longer in catching up with my comrades than I had +thought. But I see all has gone well with that young gentleman in the +meantime." + +"Yes, Monsieur. I, his brother, ought never to have allowed him to go on +alone. But I was riding after, expecting to overtake him, when I came +upon his horse; I supposed he must be near, and I was fortunate enough +to seek in the right place. He shall not leave me again; and for us both +I thank you more than my tongue can ever express." + +"Pouf!--I did nothing. The question is, what now? My comrades and I have +affairs to look after in the forest. We shall continue on the path where +your brother met his accident, till we come to a certain forester's +house where we may pass the night. Your direction appears to be the +same, and you will be safe with us." + +"Again I thank you, Monsieur," I said, "but we shall give up our journey +through the forest. As soon as my brother feels able to ride, we shall +go back to the highway and pass the night at some inn. I think we shall +be safe enough now that you have frightened the robbers from this part +of the forest." + +The horseman eyed me shrewdly, and glanced at the Countess. It occurred +to me then that he had known her sex from the first, and that he now +trusted me with wisdom enough to judge best what I ought to do. So he +delicately refrained from pressing us, as he had all along from trying +to learn our secret. For a moment he silently twirled his moustaches; +then he said: + +"In that case, I have but to wish you good-night, and good fortune. +I think you will be safe enough between here and the highway. +Please do not mention that you have seen any of the King's guard +hereabouts,--though I fear that news is already on the wing." + +"What, Monsieur?--are you, then, of the King's guard?" + +"We have the honour to be so." + +"But I thought their uniform--" + +"Faith, we are in our working clothes," said he, with a laugh. The next +moment he waved us adieu, turned his horse about, and, his companions +also turning at his order, followed them out of our sight. + +"A very charming gentleman," said I, as the sound of their horses +diminished in our ears. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +THE TOWER OF MORLON + + +The Countess still lay on the grassy couch beneath the oak. She seemed +to have lost all will as to her course of action. + +"I think best not to go with those guards," I explained after a moment. +"For why should we travel their way without any destination? There is +nothing for us now in that direction. After what you have told me, I +dare not let you go to the convent." + +"There is no place for me," she said listlessly. "Death has disappointed +me, and left me in the lurch. I think this place is as good as another." + +She closed her eyes for some moments, as if she would lie there till +death came, after all. + +"No," said I; "you must not stay here. Night is coming on: the chill and +the dews will be harmful to you. Besides, there are clouds already +blotting out some of the stars, and the wind is rising and may bring +more. If there is rain, it may be heavy, after so many days of fine +weather. It will soon be too dark to follow the path. We must be getting +on." + +"I am weak from this blow," she said,--rather as if for a pretext +against moving, I thought. "I am not sure I could keep my saddle." + +"I can carry you as I ride, if need be, and let your horse follow. Come, +Madame, let us see if you can rise. If not, I will take you in my arms +to the glade, where it will be easier to mount." + +I stooped to support her, but she did not stir. + +"But where am I to go?" she said. "Of what use to travel aimlessly from +place to place? As you say, why should we ride on toward the convent +without a destination? But where else have I a destination?" + +"Listen, Madame. Is it not probable that after some weeks, or months, +the Count, still disappointed of your taking refuge at the convent, will +give up hope or expectation of finding you there? Will he not then +withdraw his attention from the convent?" + +"I suppose so." + +"And can we not, if we take time, find means to learn when that becomes +the case? Can we not, by careful investigation, make sure whether he is +still watching the convent or whether he has an informant there? Can we +not enter into communication with the Mother Superior, and find out what +her attitude is toward you,--whether, if you returned, your residence +there would be safe and kept secret? Surely she would not betray you." + +"Oh, no; whatever attitude she took, she would tell me the truth." + +"Then it is only necessary to wait a few months and take those measures, +without letting your own whereabouts be known even to the Mother +Superior." + +"But meanwhile would you have me continue doing as I have done since my +flight,--passing as something I am not, receiving the protection--living +on the very bounty--of the one person in all the world from whom I +should accept nothing? Why, Monsieur, if it were known--if no more than +the mere truth were told--would it not seem to justify the Count de +Lavardin?" + +"I do not ask you to do as you have done. For only two or three days you +need pass as a boy. You may then not only resume the habit of a woman, +but enjoy the company and friendship of a woman as saintly as yourself. +Your presence in her house must be a secret till affairs mend, but you +may be sure that if her friendship for you were known, it would be a +sufficient answer to anything your husband or the world might say +against you." + +"It is of your mother that you speak. But I told you before, it is not +from you that I dare accept so much." + +"It will be from my mother, who will believe me when I tell her the +truth, and who will take you as her guest and friend for your own sake. +As for me, my affairs in Paris will keep me from La Tournoire while you +are there:--for consider, what I propose now is not what you refused +that night we fled from Lavardin. I spoke then of your making La +Tournoire your refuge for an indefinite time,--the rest of your life, if +need be:--I speak now of your staying there only till your safe +residence at the convent can be assured,--only a few months, or weeks." + +Though I had begun and ended by speaking of the convent, I did so merely +with the object of inducing her to go to La Tournoire. Once there, she +would be under the guidance and persuasion of my mother, who could +influence her to remain till the Count's death removed all danger. + +"You must not refuse, Madame," I went on. "God has shown that He does +not desire your death, and it must be His will that you should accept +this plan, so clear and simple. Speak, Madame!" + +"I know not.--I have no strength, no will, to oppose further. Let it be +as you think best." The last vestige of her power of objection, of +resolving or thinking for herself, seemed to pass out in a tired sigh. + +"Good!" I cried. "Then we have but to regain the road and find some inn +for the night. To-morrow we shall ride back to Chateaudun, or perhaps on +to Bonneval, and then make for La Tournoire by Le Mans and Sable, which +is to give a wide berth to Montoire and the road we have come by. Do you +think you can rise, Madame?--Nay, wait till I lead the horses out." + +I took the horses to the glade, then returned and found the Countess +already on her feet, though with her hand against the tree, as she was +somewhat dizzy. She walked with my assistance, and I helped her to her +saddle,--she now thought herself able to ride without support. I mounted +my own horse, grasped the halter of the other, and took the path for the +highway. + +"We are none too soon," said I, as we left the glade. "How dark the path +is even now: I hope we shall be able to keep it." + +Darkness came on more quickly than usual, because of the swift +overclouding of the sky. Very soon I could not see two paces before me. +Then blackness settled down upon us. My horse still went on, but slowly +and uncertainly, with many a halt to make sure of footing and a free +way. When I glanced back, I could not see the Countess, but I held the +tighter to the halter of her horse and frequently asked if all was well. +Her reply was, "Yes, Monsieur," in a faint, tired voice. I felt about +with my whip for the trees at the side of the path, and thus was able to +guide the horse when its own confidence faltered. + +Instead of cooling, the air became close. Suddenly the forest was +lighted up by a pale flash which, lasting but a moment, was followed +after a time by a distant rumble of thunder. + +"It is far away, Madame," said I. "It may not come in this direction, or +we may be safely housed before it does." + +"I am not afraid." + +However, lest rain might fall suddenly, I stopped the horses, unrolled +from behind my saddle a cloak which I had bought in Vendome, and put it +around the Countess. We then proceeded as best we could. Slowly as we +had gone, I began to think it time we should emerge from the forest; but +another flash of lightning showed apparently endless vistas of wood on +every side. We went on for another half hour or so, during which the +distant thunder continued at intervals; and then, finding ourselves as +deep in the forest as ever, I perceived that we must have strayed from +our right path. I stopped and told the Countess. + +"It must be so," she said. + +"I noticed no cross-path when I rode into the forest this afternoon. Yet +a path might join at such an angle that, looking straight ahead, I +should not have seen it. Yes, that is undoubtedly the case, if we are in +a path at all. Perhaps we are following the bed of a dried-up stream." + +"Do you wish to turn back, then?" + +"We might only lose ourselves. And yet that is what must happen if we go +ahead. Let us wait for a flash of lightning." + +One came presently, while my eyes were turned ready in what I thought +the direction from which we had come. But there seemed to lie no opening +at all in that direction. Then, in the blacker darkness that ensued, I +remembered that I had turned my horse slightly while talking of the +matter. I could not now tell exactly which direction we had come from. +It occurred to me that perhaps for some time we had wandered about in no +path at all, going where trees and underbrush left space clear enough to +be mistaken. + +I confessed that I knew not which way to go, even to find the original +path. + +"Is it best to ride on at random, in hope of coming upon something, or +to stay where we are till daylight?" I asked. + +The Countess had no will upon the matter. But the question was decided +for me by a heavy downpour of rain, which came in a rush without +warning. It was evident that the foliage over us was not thick. So I +shouted to the Countess that we would go on till we found trees that +gave more protection. I urged my horse to move, letting him choose his +own course, and he obediently toiled forward, I exerting myself to keep +the other horse close, and also feeling the way with my whip. + +As swift as the oncoming of the rain, was the increase of the lightning, +both in frequency and intensity. The fall of the rain seemed loud beyond +measure, but it was drowned out of all hearing when the thunder rolled +and reverberated across the sky. In the bright bursts of lightning, the +trees, seen through falling rain, seemed like companions suffering with +us the chastisement of the heavens; but in the darkness that intervened +between the flashes, the forest and all the world seemed to have died +out of existence, leaving nothing but the pelting waters and the din of +the storm. + +At last we came, not to a region where the boughs were less penetrable, +but to an open space where the downpour had us entirely at its mercy. I +thought at first we had got out of the forest, or into the glade we had +left: but a brilliant flash showed us it was another small clearing, +which rose slightly toward the thick woods on its further side. And the +same lightning revealed, against the background of trees, a solitary +tower, old and half-ruined, slender and of no great height. A doorway on +a level with the ground stood half open. + +"Did you see that?" I cried, when the lightning had passed. "There is +shelter." + +"It must be the tower of Morlon," said the Countess. + +"And who lives there?" + +"Nobody,--at least it was said to be empty when I used to hear of it. It +is all that is left of a house that was destroyed in the civil wars. +Hunting parties sometimes resort to it, and the peasants make use of it +when passing this way.--Yes, we have come far out of our road, if that +is really the tower of Morlon." + +"Then it is every man's house. The door is open." + +"It is an abandoned place, and people would take no care how they left +the door." + +"Let us go in, then. There can be nobody there, or the door would be +closed against this storm." + +I rode toward the spot where I supposed the tower was, and, rectifying +my course by the next flash, I presently felt the stone wall with my +whip. I dismounted, found the entrance, pushed the door wide, and saw by +the lightning a low-ceiled interior, which was empty. I led the horses +in, helped the Countess from the saddle, and removed her cloak, which, +though itself drenched, had kept her clothes comparatively dry. + +My first thought was of a place where the Countess might recline. But, +as I found by groping about and by the frequent lightning, there was +nothing except the floor, which, originally paved with stone, was now +covered with dried mud from the boots of many who had resorted to the +place before ourselves. There were no steps leading to the upper stories +of the tower: the part we were in was, indeed, but a sort of basement. +It occupied the full ground space of the tower, with the rough stone as +its only shell, and had no window nor any discoverable opening place in +the low ceiling. + +Thinking there might be an external staircase to the story above us, I +went out and felt my way around the tower, but found none. The entrance +to the main or upper part of the tower from the buildings that once +adjoined must have been to the story above, from a floor on the same +level. I thought of seeking the opening and climbing in from the back of +my horse, but I reflected that the upper stories also would doubtless be +denuded, while they could offer no better shelter from the rain. So I +was content with taking the saddles from the horses, and placing them +together upside down in such a way that they constituted a dry reclining +place for the Countess. + +There was no dry wood to be had from the forest, and no fuel of any kind +in our place of refuge; so I could not make a fire. While the Countess +sat in silence, I paced the floor until I succumbed to fatigue. By that +time, much of the water had dripped from my clothes, and I was able to +sit on the carpet of earth with some comfort. I leaned my back against +the wall, to wait till the storm and the night should pass. + +The horses had lain down, and the Countess, as I perceived by her deep +breathing and her not answering me, was asleep. The thunder and +lightning were less near and less powerful, but the rain still fell, now +decreasingly and now with suddenly regathered force. At last I too +slept. + +I awoke during the night, and changed from a sitting to a lying +position. When I next opened my eyes, the light of dawn was streaming in +at the door. The storm had ceased, birds were twittering outside. I was +aching and hungry. The Countess's face, as she slept, betokened weakness +and pain. I went and adjusted a saddle-flap that had got awry under her. +As I did so, she awoke. + +"I am so tired," she said in a slow, small voice, like that of a weary +child. + +"You are faint for want of food," said I. "You have eaten nothing since +noon yesterday, and very little then." + +Thinking I wished to hurry our departure in search of breakfast, she +shook her head and murmured weakly: + +"I am not able to go on just now. I assure you, I cannot even stand. All +strength seems to have gone out of me." As if to illustrate, she raised +her hand a few inches: it trembled a moment, then fell as if powerless. + +It was plain that she was, whether from fatigue and privation alone, or +from illness also, in a helpless state. It would be cruelty and folly to +put her on horseback. And without at least the refreshment of food and +wine, how was her condition to be improved so that she might leave this +place? + +After some thought and talk, I said: + +"The only thing is for me to go and get you food and wine, while you +stay here. But, alas, what danger you may be in while I am gone! If +anybody should come here and find you!" + +"Nobody may come. Surely there are many days when this place is left +deserted." + +"But if somebody _should_ come?" + +"All people are not cruel and wicked. It might be a person who is kind +and good." + +"But the robbers?" + +"Why should they come? There is nothing for them here. If they came it +would be by chance; against that, we can trust in God." + +"Perhaps intruders can be bolted out," said I, going to examine the +door. It was of thick oak, heavily studded with nails, and two of its +three hinges still held firmly. But there was no bolt, nor any means of +barring. + +"Nothing but a lock," I said, "and no key for that." It only aggravated +my feeling of mockery to discover that both parts of the lock were still +strong. In my petulance I flung the door back against the wall. + +As one sometimes gives the improbable a trial, from mere impulse of +experiment, I took from my pocket the two keys I had brought from +Lavardin. I tried first that of the room in which I had been imprisoned: +it was too small, and of no avail. I then inserted the key of the +postern. To my surprise, it fit. I turned it partly around; it met +resistance: I used all my power of wrist; the lock, which had stuck +because it was rusted and long unused, yielded to the strength I +summoned. + +"Thank God!" I cried. "It seems like the work of providence, that I kept +the postern key." + +I now reversed and withdrew the key, and applied it to the lock from the +inside of the door, which I had meanwhile closed. But alas!--no force of +mine could move the lock from that side, though I tried again and again. + +I went outside and easily enough locked the door from there. I then +renewed my endeavours from the inside, but with failure. + +"Alas!" said I, turning to the Countess; "if I cannot lock the door from +within, how much less will you be able to do so." + +"But you can lock it from without," she answered, taking trouble to +secure my peace of mind. "Why not lock me in? It will be the same thing. +In either case I should not go out during your absence." + +"That is true," I said. "I will make haste. If the door is locked +against intruders, what matters it which of us has the key? I will guard +it as my life,--nay, that too I will guard as never before, for yours +will depend upon it." + +I then questioned the Countess as to what part of the forest we were in, +but her knowledge of the location of the tower, with regard to roads or +paths, was vague. + +I decided to take both horses with me, lest one, being heard or seen, in +or about the tower, might excite the curiosity of some chance passer +through the forest. But I left the saddles with the Countess. Anxious to +lose no more time, I knelt and kissed her hand, receiving a faint smile +in acknowledgment of my care; led out the horses, locked the door, +pocketed the key, mounted, and was off. I went haunted by the sweet, +sorrowful eyes of the Countess as they had followed me to the door. + +With the sun to guide me, I rode Westward, for in that direction must be +the highway we had left the day before. By keeping a straight course, +and taking note of my place of emergence from the forest, I should be +able to find my way back to the tower. The leaves overhead were nowhere +so thick but that splashes of sunshine fell upon the earth and +undergrowth, and, by keeping the shadow of my horse and myself ever +straight in front, I maintained our direction. But besides this I +frequently notched the bark of some tree, always on its South side, with +my dagger. Having this to do, and the second horse to lead, and the +underbrush being often difficult, my progress was slower than suited my +impatience. But in about an hour and a half from starting, I came out of +the forest upon the bank of the Loir, which is so insignificant a stream +thereabouts that I may not have mentioned fording it upon entering the +woods on the previous day. I let the horses drink, and then rode +through, and across a meadow to the highway. I turned to the right, and +arrived, sooner than I had expected, at the gate of a town, which proved +to be Bonneval. I stopped at the inn across from the church, saw to the +feeding of my horses, and then went into the kitchen. I ordered a supply +of young fowl, bread, wine, milk in bottles, and other things; and +bargained with the innkeeper for a pair of pliable baskets and a strap +by which they might be slung across my horse like panniers. While I +waited for the chickens to roast, I used the time in reviving my own +energies with wine, eggs, and cold ham, which were to be had +immediately. + +Three or four people came or went while I was eating, and each time +anybody crossed the threshold of the door, I glanced to see what sort of +person it was. This watchfulness had become habitual to me of late. But +as I was about finishing my meal, with my eyes upon my plate, I had an +impression that somebody was standing near and gazing at me. As I had +not observed any one to come so close, I looked up with a start. And +there stood Monsieur de Pepicot, his nose as long as ever, his eyes as +meek as when they had first regarded me at Lavardin. + +"My faith!" I exclaimed. "You rise like a spirit. I neither saw nor +heard you enter." + +"I am a quiet man," he replied with a faint smile, sitting down opposite +me. + +"You are the very ghost of silence itself," said I. "What do you wear on +the soles of your boots?" + +Again he smiled faintly, but he left my question unanswered. "So you +managed to keep out of trouble at that place where I last saw you?" said +he. + +"If I did not keep out of it, at least I got out of it." + +"You are a clever young man,--or a lucky one. I was a little disturbed +in mind at leaving you as I did. But--business called me. I knew that if +you could manage to keep a whole body for ten days or so, even if that +amiable Count did see fit to cage you up, you would be set free in the +end." + +"Set free? By the Count, do you mean?" + +"Not at all. By those who would visit the Count; by those who have--But +stay,--have you not just come from Lavardin?" + +"No, indeed. I left that hospitable house more than a week ago. I set +myself free." + +"Oh, is that the case? I ask your pardon. When I saw you here, I +naturally supposed your liberation was a result of what has just +occurred. I haven't yet learned all particulars of the event." + +"What event? I don't understand you." + +"Then you don't know what has been going on at Lavardin recently?" + +"Not I." + +"Oh, indeed? Well, it will be known to all the world very soon. The +Count, it seems, was suspected of some hand in the late intrigue with +Spain--" + +"Ah!" + +"Why do you say 'Ah!'?" + +"Nothing. I always thought there might be something wrong with the +Count's politics." + +"Well, so they thought in Paris. And having made sure--" + +"How did they make sure?" + +"Oh, by the discovery of certain documents, no doubt," said Monsieur de +Pepicot, with a notable unconsciousness. "It is the usual way, is it +not?" + +"Aha! I begin to see now. You overdo the innocence, my friend. I begin +to guess what you were doing at Lavardin--" + +"Monsieur, I know not what you mean." + +"I begin to guess why you wanted to get into the chateau,--what you were +wandering about the house with a lantern for,--why you took your leave +so unexpectedly,--and how you knew that in ten days I should be set +free." + +"Nay, Monsieur, I cannot follow you in your perceptions. I know only +that on Monday evening a party of the King's guard appeared before the +Chateau de Lavardin--" + +"Having been sent from Paris soon after you had arrived there with the +documents you found in the chateau." + +"Please do not interrupt with your baseless conjectures, Monsieur. As I +said, the guards arrived at Lavardin just as, by great good fortune, the +Count himself was returning from some journey or excursion he had been +on. Thus they met him outside his walls: had it been otherwise they +would doubtless have had infinite trouble, for, as we know, the chateau +has been for some time fully prepared for a siege, even to being +garrisoned by the company of Captain Ferragant." + +"What! then those fellows who thronged the court-yard--" + +"Were a part of Captain Ferragant's famous company,--only a part, as I +should have said at first, unless he has reduced its numbers. Well, +instead of having the difficulty of besieging the chateau, the guards +had the luck to meet the Count in the road, when he had only a few +followers with him. And so they made short work." + +"They succeeded in arresting him?" + +"Not exactly that. He chose to resist, no doubt thinking he would soon +be reinforced from the chateau by the Captain and garrison. And in the +fight, the Count was killed,--stuck through the lungs by the sword of a +guard who had to defend himself from the Count's own attack." + +"My God! the Count killed!--dead!--out of the way!" For a moment I +entirely yielded to the force of this news, which to my ears meant so +much. + +"Yes. You don't seem grieved.--Yes: he will never annoy people again. +The Captain, though, seeing from the chateau how matters had gone, came +out with his men on horseback,--not to avenge the Count, but to ride off +as fast as possible in the other direction. So the King's guardsmen had +no trouble in getting into the chateau. A party of them, I believe, set +off in pursuit of the Captain, who has long been a thorn in the side of +people who love order. If he is caught, it can be shown that he was +involved in the treason; and there it is." + +"So the Captain has not been caught?" + +"He had not been when I heard the news." + +"And how did you hear it?" + +"From one of the guardsmen, who happens to be of my acquaintance. I saw +them as they came through Chateaudun yesterday afternoon, on their +return from this business. We had very little time for talking." + +"Then you were not with them at Lavardin?" + +"I with them? Certainly not, Monsieur. Why should I have been with them? +No; I have been staying in this part of the country for my own pleasure +the past few days: I think of buying some apple orchards near +Chateaudun.--I fancied you would be interested in this news." + +"I am, dear Monsieur de Pepicot,--infinitely. I am sorry I must leave +you now, but I have business of some haste. I thank you heartily, and +hope we may meet again. You know where La Tournoire is." + +Five minutes later, with my baskets slung before me, and having left one +horse at the inn, I was riding out of Bonneval to tell the Countess that +she was free. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +THE MERCY OF CAPTAIN FERRAGANT + + +I had come to a place where the road runs, narrower than ever, between +banks covered with bushes. All at once the perfect loneliness and +silence were broken by three or four men leaping out of the bushes in +front of me and barring the way, one presenting a pistol, another a long +pike, while a third prepared to seize my rein. I instantly spurred +forward, to make a dash for it: at the same time I was conscious that +other fellows had sprung into the road behind me. The knave caught both +reins close to the bit, and hung on under the horse's head, while the +poor animal tried to rear. I drew sword and dagger, and leaned forward +to run this fellow through. As I made my thrust, my senses suddenly went +out in a kind of fire-streaked darkness. As I afterwards learned, I had +been struck on the back of the head with a loaded cudgel by one of the +unseen men behind. When I came to myself I was lying on the earth in a +little bushy hollow away from the road: my hands were tied behind me, +and around each ankle was fastened a rope, of which one of my assailants +held the loose end. These two fellows and their four comrades were +seated on the ground, eating the fowls and drinking the wine and milk I +had provided for the Countess. One of them wore my sword, another had my +dagger. My purse lay empty on the grass, and my horse was hobbled with +the strap from my baskets. + +My first thought was of the key. Searching about with my eyes, I +presently saw it, with the other one, at the edge of the bushes, where +they had doubtless been thrown as of no value. + +My head was aching badly, but that was nothing to the terror in my heart +for the Countess: if I was hindered from going to her, who was to give +her aid?--nay, who was to release her from that dark hiding-place? She +would die for lack of food and air,--her cell of refuge would be her +tomb! + +"Ah!" exclaimed one of the robbers; "the worthy young gentleman comes to +life." + +"You are right," said I, trying to hit the proper mood in which to deal +with them. "I'm not sorry, either, as I was in some haste to get on. My +friends, as you appear to have emptied me of everything that can be of +any use to you, what do you say to allowing my poor remaining self to go +about my business?" + +"And to give information about us as soon as you get to Chateaudun, eh?" +said one. + +I was satisfied to let them think I was bound for Chateaudun. + +"No," I replied. "Poor as I am, the toll you have collected from me is +not as much as my necessity of finishing my journey. So if you will +untie me, and can find it in your hearts to give me back my horse--or at +worst to let me go afoot,--I will cry quits, and give you my word of +honour to forget you completely." + +"You speak well, young gentleman: but it's not to us that you need +speak. We shall be taking you presently to one you can make proposals +to." + +"Why should you waste time in taking me to your leader, when you are +quite able to make terms yourselves?" said I. "Come. I can offer him no +more than I can offer you. Suppose it were a hundred crowns: he would +have the lion's share of it, and you poor fellows would get but a small +part. If I deal with you alone, he need be never the wiser, and you will +have the whole sum to divide among you." + +"And how would you get the five hundred crowns?" + +"I said one hundred: I would get them by going for them: I would give +you my promise on the honour of a gentleman." + +The ruffians laughed. "No," said the one who had spoken most. "You would +have to stay with us, and send for them. And our leader is the one to +manage that. He will make you a fine, fair offer, no doubt." + +My heart sank. I tried persuasion, but nothing could move them. +Doubtless each was afraid of the others, or they were very strongly +under the dominion of their chief. + +I asked them to give me back my keys, whereupon one of them put the keys +in his own wallet. They finished the food and drink, and made ready to +depart. Their preparations consisted mainly of blindfolding me with a +thick band of cloth, putting me on my horse, and tying together under +the animal's belly the ropes that bound my ankles. Then a man mounted +behind me, I heard another take the rein to lead, the horse was turned +around several times so as to confuse my sense of direction, and we set +off. We presently crossed a stream, and a little later I knew by sound +and smell that we were in the forest. When we had traversed a part of +it, the horse was again turned around twice or thrice, and we continued +on our way. All the time I was thinking of her who waited for me in the +darkness of her tomb-like prison. + +At last, by feeling the sun upon me and by other signs, I knew that we +had come to a space clear of trees. We stopped a moment, and I heard +calls exchanged and a gate opened; and then my horse's feet passed from +turf to a very rough, irregular pavement. The sound of horses in their +stalls at one side, the cooing of pigeons at the other, the gate, the +rude paving, the remote situation, all taken together informed me that +we were in an enclosed farm-yard. We stopped a second time, and my ankle +ropes being then detached from each other, I was hauled down from the +horse. The men with me were now greeted by others, who came apparently +from the side buildings. I was led forward into a stone-floored passage, +where I had to sit on a bench, guarded by I know not how many, while one +went up a flight of stairs near at hand, evidently to give an account of +their prize to somebody in authority. Presently a voice from above +called down, "Bring the prisoner hither," and I was taken upstairs and +through a doorway. + +My entrance drew an ejaculation from a person already in the room, who +thereupon gave orders in a low voice. I was made to sit on the floor, +and my ankles were tied close together. A chain was then wound +ingeniously about my ankle-bonds, my legs, and the cords at my wrists; +passed through a hole in the floor and around a cross beam, and finally +fastened with a padlock, in such a way that I was secured beyond power +of extricating myself. + +"Now, go, and wait in the passage," said the voice in which the previous +orders had been given. "But first take that rag from his eyes. He may as +well see: it will amuse him, and will not hurt us,--I will take care of +that." + +The band was removed, and I found myself in a bare, plastered room with +a barred window. In front of me stood a large man with a mask on his +face. Where the mask ended, his beard began, so that he presented a +visage entirely of black. The robbers who had brought me hither went +out, closing the door, and I was left alone with this man. + +He regarded me a moment; then dropped into a chair, with a low grunt of +laughter. + +"That it should be this fool, of all fools!" he began. "Who shall say +there is no such thing as luck? Monsieur, I am sure it will please you +to know into whose hands you have fallen." + +He took off his mask, and there was the red-splashed face of Captain +Ferragant. + +Surprise made me dumb for a moment, for he had hitherto disguised his +voice. He sat looking at me with a most cruel expression of malevolent +triumph. + +"So, this is where you have fled,--and you are the chief of the +robbers!" said I. + +"Call me that if you like. It matters nothing what names you prefer to +use. No ears will ever hear them but mine; and mine will not be long +afflicted with the sound." + +I shuddered, for I knew the implacability of this man, and my death +meant the death of the Countess,--death in the dark, mouldy basement of +the tower, death by stifling and starvation while she waited in vain for +me, a slow and solitary death, rendered the more agonizing to her mind +by suspense and fears. And this horrible fate must needs be hers just +when the cause of her sorrows and dangers had been removed! It was a +thought not to be endured. + +"You will have your jest," said I. "But I see no reason why you should +bear me malice. The Count de Lavardin is now a dead man, I hear. I can +no longer be against him, nor you for him. Therefore bygones should be +bygones, and I suppose you will make terms with me as with any other man +who happened to come before you as I do." + +"You do me an injustice, young gentleman: I am not so mercenary,--I do +not always make terms. It is true, I served the Count for pay; that is +what my company is for, and if he had not gone out of his chateau to +hunt his wife, we might have defended the place till the enemy was tired +out. But he allowed himself to be caught in the road,--you have heard +the news, then? What do they say of me?" + +"That when you saw the Count was killed, you ran away." + +"Yes, I was of no use to the Count then, and his own men in the chateau +were not well inclined toward me. They were for giving up the place, the +moment he was dead. I thought best to save my good fellows for better +service elsewhere." + +"Then your company and the band of robbers in this forest are the same?" + +"If you call them robbers,--they forage when there is need. I did not +have them all at the chateau. The good fellows who brought you here were +not at Lavardin with me. It is well, when one is in a place, to have +resources outside. And so we meet again, my young interloper! You were +rude to me once or twice at Lavardin. I shall pay you for that, and +settle scores on behalf of my friend the Count as well." + +"How much ransom do you want?" I asked bluntly. "Name a sum within +possibility, and let me go for it immediately: you know well you can +rely upon my honour to deliver it promptly at any place safe for both of +us, and to keep all a secret." + +"Do not insult me again. I have told you I am above purchase." + +Despite his jesting tone, my hope began to fall. + +"You are not above prudence, at least," I said. "I assure you there are +people who will move earth and heaven to find what has become of me, and +whose powers of vengeance are not light." + +"If I went in fear of vengeance, my child, I should never pass an easy +moment. I have learned how to evade it,--or, better still, to turn it +back on those who would inflict it. I fear nobody. When the game is not +worth the risk, one can always run away, as I did from Lavardin when the +Count's death threw his men into a panic." + +"Good God!" I cried, giving way to my feelings; "what will move you, +then? What do you wish me to do? Shall I humiliate myself to plead for +my life? shall I beg mercy? If I must descend to that, I will do so." + +For you will remember another life than mine was staked upon my fate, +and time was flying. How long could she endure without food, without +drink, without renewal of air, in that locked-up place of darkness? + +"Mercy, I beg," I cried, in a voice broken by fears for her. + +"You have hit upon the right way, at last," said the Captain, and my +heart bounded in spite of his continued irony of voice and manner. "You +beg for mercy, you shall have it. I will give you your life, and your +liberty as well: on your part, you will tell me where the Countess de +Lavardin is; as soon as I have made sure you have told the truth, I will +set you free." + +I gazed at him in silence. + +"Is not that merciful?" said he; "a full pardon for all your affronts +and offences, in return for a trifling piece of information?" + +"It is a piece of information I cannot give you," I replied. + +"It is a waste of time and words to try to deceive me," said the red +Captain. "A young gentleman who risks so much for a lady as you have +done, and accomplishes so much for her,--yes, they were wonders of +prowess and courage, I admit, and I compliment you upon them,--a young +gentleman who does all that for a lady does not so soon lose knowledge +of her whereabouts. Do not trifle with me, Monsieur. Where is the +Countess? There is no other way by which you can save yourself." + +"Do you think, then, a man who has shown the courage and prowess you +mention, for the sake of a lady, would save himself by betraying her?" + +"Oh, you are young, and may have many years before you--a life of great +success and honour. There are other beautiful ladies in the world. In a +very short time you can forget this one." + +"I think it is for you to forget her," said I on the impulse. "As for +me, I would rather die!" + +Ah, yes, it was easy enough to die, if that were all: but to leave her +to die, and in such a manner, was another thing. Yet I knew she would +prefer death, in its worst form, to falling into the unrestrained hands +of the red Captain. The man's eyes, from the moment when he introduced +her name, betrayed the eagerness of his new hope to make himself her +master,--though he still controlled his speech. I say his new hope, for +it must have arisen upon the death of the Count, during whose life, not +daring openly to play the rival, he had found his only satisfaction in a +revenge which provided that none might have what was denied to him. It +was for me to decide now whether she should die or find herself at the +mercy of Captain Ferragant. Was it right that I should decide for her as +she would decide for herself? Was it for me to consign her to death, +though I was certain that would be her own choice? Even though the +Captain found her, was not life, with its possible chance of future +escape, of her being able to move him by tears and innocence, of some +friendly interposition of fate, preferable to the sure alternative doom? + +"I will leave you to make up your mind quietly," said the Captain. "When +you are ready to speak to the point, call to the men in the +passage,--one of them will come to me. The door will be left open. I +hope you will not be slow in choosing the sensible course: I cannot give +you many hours for consideration." + +He went out, addressed some orders to four or five men who sat on a +bench facing my door, and disappeared: I heard his feet descending the +stairs. My door was left wide open, so that I was directly in the gaze +of the men. But even if I had been unobserved, I could not have moved +from the place where I sat. Any effort to break my bonds, either of +wrist or ankle, by sheer strength, was but to cause weakness and pain. +My arms ached from the constraint of their position, and, because of +them behind me, it was impossible to lie at full length on my back. Nor +would the chain, without cutting into my thighs, permit me to lie on +either side. I was thus unable to change even my attitude. + +But my discomforts of body were nothing in presence of the question that +tore my mind. Minutes passed; time stretched into hours: still I +discussed with myself, to which of the fates at my choice should I +deliver her? Should I give her to death, or to the arms of the red +Captain? Little as she feared the first, much as she loathed the second, +dared I take it upon myself to assign her to death? Had it been mere +death, without the horrors of darkness and desertion, without the +anxious wonder as to why I failed her, I should not have been long in +deciding upon that. For that would be her wish, and I should not survive +her. Let us both die, I should have said; for what will life be to her +after she has fallen into the hands of this villain, and what to me +after I have delivered her into them? But the peculiar misery of the +death that threatened her, kept the problem still busy in my mind. + +And yet I could not bring myself to yield her to the Captain. + +The day had become afternoon, and I still debated. The Countess must +have expected me to return before this time. What was her state now? +what were her conjectures? Ah, thought I, if we had not found our way to +that lonely tower, if the storm had not come up the previous night, if +we had started to leave the forest earlier!--nay, if I had had the +prevision, upon hearing of the presence of robbers, to make her turn +back to Chateaudun with me, and lodge quietly there until the Mother +Superior of the convent could be sounded, and a safe way of approach be +ascertained, all would now be well. We should have heard in the meantime +of the Count's death. Yes, everything had gone wrong since the Countess +had taken the road for the forest. The third of Blaise Tripault's maxims +which he had learned from the monk came back to me with all the force of +hapless coincidence: + +"_Never leave a highway for a byway._" + +The thought of Blaise Tripault made me think of my father. What a +mockery it was to know that I, chained helpless to the floor in this +remote stronghold of ruffians, was the son of him, the Sieur de la +Tournoire, the invincible warrior before whose sword no man could stay, +and who would have rushed to the world's end to save me or any one I +loved! To consider my need, and his power to help, and that only his +ignorance of my situation stood between, was so vexing that in my +bitterness of soul, regardless of the men in the passage, I cried out to +the empty air, "Oh, my father! If you but knew!" + +And then, for a moment, as if the bare wall were no impediment, I saw a +vision of my father, with his dauntless brow and grizzled beard, his +great long sword at his side, riding toward me among green trees. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +THE SWORD OF LA TOURNOIRE + + +The light softened and faded into that of evening. Another set of men +took the places of those outside my door. No food nor drink was brought +me, and I supposed the Captain hoped by this neglect to reduce me the +sooner to a yielding state. But I was even glad to have to undergo some +of the discomforts which the Countess must needs be enduring. I gave up +hope of her life or my own, and, leaning forward so as to get some +relief of position, I fell into a kind of drowsy lassitude. + +Suddenly, through my window, which overlooked the court-yard, I heard a +low call at the gate, which was answered. Presently I heard the gate +close, and assumed it had been opened to let in the man who had uttered +the call. About a minute after that, there was a considerable noise in +the yard, as of men hastily assembling. Then came the voice of the +Captain, apparently addressing the whole company. When he finished, +there was a general movement of feet, as of men dispersing about the +yard, and this was followed by complete silence. + +The men in the passage were now joined by a comrade, who spoke to them +rapidly in a low tone. They whispered to one another in some excitement, +but did not leave their places nor take their eyes from me. + +The next sound I heard was of the tread of horses approaching. My +curiosity now aroused, I strained my ears. The hoof-beats came to the +gate, and then I heard a loud knock, followed by no other sound than of +the pawing and snorting of the horses as they stood. There must have +been at least a score of them. + +Presently the unheeded knock was repeated, and then a quick, virile +voice called out: + +"Hola, within there! Open the gate, in the name of the King!" + +My heart leaped. The voice was that of the royal guardsman who had saved +the Countess from the robbers the previous evening. But his party was +now evidently much larger than before. + +No answer was given to his demand. The red Captain's intent apparently +was to make these newcomers believe the place deserted. I had an impulse +to shout the truth, but I saw my guards watching me, their hands on +their weapons, and knew that my first word would be the signal for my +death. So I kept silence. + +"If you do not open the gate at once," the guardsman cried, "we will +open it for ourselves, in our own way." + +I now heard footsteps shuffling across the yard, and then one of the +robbers spoke, in the quavering tones of an old man: + +"Pardon, Monsieur. Pardon, I pray, but it is impossible for me to open. +I am all alone here in charge of this place, which is empty and +deserted, and I'm forbidden to open the gate to anybody but the master. +He would kill me if I disobeyed, and besides that, I have taken a vow. +There is nothing here that you can want, Monsieur." + +"There is shelter for the night to be had here, and that we mean to +have. We are on the business of the King, and I command you to open." + +"I dare not, Monsieur. I should imperil my life and my soul. There is a +lodge in the forest a mile to the east, and the keeper will see to all +your wants: there is plenty of shelter, food for yourselves, hay for +your horses, everything you can need. Here all is dismantled and empty." + +"Old man, you are lying. Unbar the gate in a moment, or your life will +indeed be in danger." + +To this the "old man" gave no answer, except to come away from the gate +with the same simulated walk of an aged person. + +I heard the horsemen discussing in low tones. Then, to my dismay, came +the sound of hoofs again, this time moving away. Now I was more than +ever minded to cry out, but my guards were ready to spring upon me with +their daggers. I might have sought this speedy death, but for the sudden +thought that the withdrawal of the royal guardsmen might be only +temporary. + +I know not how many minutes passed. The sound of the horses had died out +for some time. I became sensible of the tramp of men's feet. Were the +guardsmen returning without their horses? Suddenly the red Captain's +voice arose in the court-yard: + +"To the walls, you with firearms! Shoot them down as they try to batter +in the gate! All the rest, stand with me to kill them if they enter!" + +The tramp of the guardsmen came swiftly near. I heard the reports of +muskets and pistols. There was a loud thud, as of some sort of ram--a +fallen branch or trunk from the forest--being borne powerfully against +the gate. This was answered by defiant, profane shouts and more loud +detonations. My guards in the passage groaned, exclaimed, and clenched +their weapons, mad to be in the fray. I could only listen and wait. + +There was a second thud against the gate, amidst more cries and shots. +And soon came a third, the sound being this time prolonged into a crash +of timber. A shout of triumph from the invaders, a yell of execration +from the red Captain and his men, and the clash of steel, told that the +gate had given way. + +"Follow close, gentlemen! Trust me to clear a path!" cried a hearty +voice, cheerful to the point of mirth, which thrilled my soul. + +"Ay, follow him close!" cried the leader of the guardsmen; "follow the +sword of La Tournoire!" + +I could have shouted for joy, but that it was now worth while postponing +death by minutes. + +The noise of clashing swords increased and came nearer, as if the +guardsmen were pouring in through the gateway and driving the defenders +back toward the house. Now and then came the sound of a pike or reversed +musket meeting steel armour, and all the time fierce exclamations rose +from both parties. There was no more firing; doubtless the melee was too +close and general for anybody to reload. + +The men in the passage, as the tumult grew and approached, became as +restless as dogs in leash that whine and jump to be in the fray. At last +one of them ran into my room and looked out of the window. + +"Death of the devil, how they are at it!" he cried, for the information +of his comrades outside my door. "I think we shall be wanted in a minute +or two. These cursed intruders have forced the gateway. Our fellows are +twice as many as they, but their heads and bodies are in steel,--all but +one, a middle-aged man with gray in his beard. He has no armour on, but +he leads the others. Body of Satan! you should see him clear the ground +about him. He thrusts in all directions at once: his sword is as long as +a man, and it darts as quickly as the tongue of a snake. Ha! it has just +cut down old Cricharde.--And now it has stung Galparoux.--Holy +Beelzebub, what a man! He fights like a fiend, and all the time with a +gay face as if he were at his sport.--Ah! there he has let daylight into +poor Boirac.--But now--good!--at last our Captain has planted himself in +front of this devil: it was high time: he will find his match now. By +God, it will be worth looking at, the fight between the red Captain and +this stranger,--there aren't two such men in France. They are taking +each other's measure now,--each one sees what sort of stuff he has run +against. Ah!" + +What the last exclamation meant, I could not know. The man's attention +had become too close for further speech. But I supposed that a pass had +been made between my father and the red Captain, and that it had been +nothing decisive, for the watcher's interest continued at the extreme +tension: he kept his face against the iron bars of the window, and made +no sound beyond frequent short ejaculations. The men in the passage +called to him for further news, but he did not heed them. To my ears the +fighting continued as general as before, with the shouts of many throats +and the clash of many weapons, so that I could not at all distinguish +the single combat between my father and the red Captain from the rest of +the fray. + +Presently the man gave a howl of rage. "Our Captain is being forced +back!" he cried. "We are getting the worst of the fight everywhere. It's +too much!--we are needed down there! To the devil with orders!--the +Captain will be glad enough if we turn the tide. And we'd better try our +luck down there than be taken here, for short time they'll give us for +prayers, my children." While speaking he had moved from the window to my +door. + +"Certainly this prisoner is safe enough," answered one of the men, +whereupon he and the others in the passage ran down the stairs. + +But the man who had been at the window turned to me. "Safe enough,--yes, +so it looks," said he. "Young man, the Captain must think you a +magician, to take so much pains against your escaping. If it came to the +worst, I was to kill you, and the time seems to have arrived: so, if +you'll pardon me--" + +"You will be a great fool," said I, as he approached with his sword +drawn; "for if you are taken alive my intervention will save your neck." + +"How do you know it will?" + +"By the fact that the gentleman down there whose fighting you so admire +is my father." + +"Indeed? You are a gentleman: do you give your word of honour for that?" + +"Yes; and to speak for you if I am alive when your side is finally +defeated." + +"Very good, Monsieur. I will hold you to that." Upon this he left me and +followed his comrades down the stairs. + +His footfalls had scarcely ceased upon the stairway, when other sounds +began to come from the same direction,--those of conflict in the +entrance hall below. Somebody had drawn his antagonist, or been forced +by him, into the house. There was the quick, irregular stamp of booted +feet on the stone floor, the keen music of sword striking sword. If the +fight spread generally into the house, and the defenders fled to the +upper rooms, my position must become more critical. So I listened rather +to this noise in the hallway than to the tumult in the court-yard. By +the sound of the steel coming nearer, and that of the footfalls changing +somewhat, I presently knew that one of the fighters had sought the +vantage--or disadvantage--of the staircase. But the other evidently +pushed him hard, for soon both combatants had reached the landing at the +turn of the stairs, as was manifest from a sudden increase of their +noise in my ears. I could now hear their short ejaculations as well as +the other sounds. They continued to approach: I listened for a stumble +on the stairs, to be followed by a death-cry: but these men were +apparently heedful as to their steps, and finally they were both upon +the level footing of the passage outside my room. I wondered if this +fight would be over before it could be opposite my doorway. In a few +moments I was answered. Into my narrow view came the large figure of the +red Captain, without a doublet, his muscular arms bare, his shirt open +and soaked with perspiration, his upper body heaving rapidly as he +breathed, his face streaming, his eyes fixed upon the enemy whose swift +rapier he parried with wonderful skill. The light of evening was dim in +the passage, and perhaps for that reason the Captain backed into my +room. His adversary followed instantly. + +"Father!" I cried, as the Sieur de la Tournoire appeared in the doorway: +in my emotion I thought not how I endangered him by distracting his +attention. + +But he was not to be thrown off his guard. He moved his head a little to +the side, so as to catch a glimpse of me behind the Captain, but this +did not prevent his adroitly turning a quick thrust which his enemy made +on the instant of my cry. + +"Hola, Henri!" said my father, with perfect calmness except for his +quickness of breath. "What the devil are you doing here?" + +"Sitting chained to the floor," I replied. + +At this the Captain suddenly leaped back almost to where I was, and I +suppose his intention was to place himself eventually where he would +have me between him and my father and could kill me without ceasing to +face the latter. But he may have considered an attempt to pass over me +as unsafe for his subsequent footing, and so his next movement was +sidewise: my father, following close, gave him work every moment. The +Captain again stepping backward, I was now at his right and a little in +front, so that, if he could gain but a spare second, he could send a +finishing thrust my way. With my head turned so as to keep my eyes upon +him, I could see by his look that he was determined not to risk my +outliving him. + +My father, too busy in meeting the Captain's lunges, and in trying what +thrust might elude his defence, thought best to expend no more breath in +talk with me, and so the fighting went on without words. Suppose, +thought I, my father kills the Captain but the Captain first kills me? +Had I not better now tell my father to seek the Tower of Morlon and +release a person confined there? But if I did that, the Captain would +hear, and suppose he killed my father as well as me! I held my tongue. + +The Captain now maintained his position, neither giving ground nor +pressing forward. The two combatants were between me and the window, +through which still came sounds of struggle from the yard below. But +these sounds were fewer, except those of cheers, which grew more +frequent. + +"Good! Our friends are gaining the day!" said my father to me. + +"But you, Messieurs, shall not crow over it!" cried the Captain, and +made a long thrust, as swift as lightning. My father caught it on the +guard of his hilt, within short distance of his breast, at the same +instant stepping back. The Captain did not follow, but darted his sword +at me, with the cry, "Not for you the Countess!" I contracted my body +and thought myself done for. My father's impulsive forward movement, +however, disconcerted the Captain's arm in the very moment of his lunge, +and his point but feebly stung my side and flew back again, his guard +recovered none too soon to save himself. My father's thrusts became now +so quick and continuous that the Captain fell back to gain breath. My +father drove him to the wall. Shouting a curse, the Captain thrust for +my father's midriff. My father, with a swift movement, received the +sword between his arm and body, and at the same instant ran his own +rapier into the Captain's unguarded front, pushed it through his lung, +and pinned him to the wall. + +[Illustration: "MY FATHER'S THRUSTS BECAME NOW SO QUICK AND +CONTINUOUS."] + +The Captain's arms dropped, his head hung forward, and as soon as the +sword was drawn out, he tumbled lifeless to the floor. + +My father leaned against the wall till he regained a little breath and +energy; then he wiped his brow and sword, and came over to me. + +"How have they got you trussed up?" he asked. "And how came you into +their hands?--I should be amazed to find you here, if I hadn't seen +stranger things before now." + +While he cut the cords that bound my ankles and wrists, I told him how I +had been waylaid. "I was going with food and wine to a friend who lies +locked in a deserted tower called Morlon. She is ill to death, and may +now be dead for lack of food and air to keep up her strength. I must go +to her--" + +"A woman, then?" + +"Yes, a lady: I will tell you all, but there is no time to lose now. The +tower is in this forest. I must find my way there at once." + +"Patience, a moment," said my father. "Your chain is locked, I see:--but +no matter,--I can loosen it so that you can wriggle through." By having +cut the cords, around which the chain had been passed, he had relieved +the tautness, and was now able to do what he promised. He then took off +my boots, and, grasping me under the arms, drew me backward out of the +loosened coils as I moved them downward with my hands. At last I stood a +free man. I put on my boots, took the Captain's sword, and accompanied +my father down into the court-yard. + +The fight was now over there. Of the royal guardsmen, all in steel caps +and corselets, like the small party of them I had seen the previous +evening, some were wiping their faces and swords, and others were caring +for the hurts of comrades. Some of the robbers lay dead, several were +wounded, and the rest, having yielded their weapons, were looking after +their own disabled, under the direction of guardsmen. I recognized a +number of the rascals as men I had seen at the Chateau de Lavardin. The +commander of the troop of guards, he whom I had met before and whose +vigorous voice I had recognized, greeted my father with a look of +congratulation, and showed surprise at seeing me. + +"Tis a day of events," said my father. "I have killed the Count's +accomplice, and found my son.--Nay, there was no hope of that Captain's +surrendering." + +"My faith!--then your two quests are accomplished at the same moment," +said the leader of the guardsmen. "And, for another wonder, your son +turns out to be a person I have already met. But your friend, Monsieur?" +This inquiry was to me, and made with sudden solicitude. + +"Locked in the tower of Morlon, waiting for me to come with +food,--perhaps dying or dead.--Monsieur, I was brought here blindfold: +but I must find the way back to the tower of Morlon without delay,--it +is somewhere in this forest." + +"No doubt some of these gentry know the way," said the guardsman, +indicating the robbers. "We'll make it a condition of his life for one +of them to guide us." + +"You make me your life-long debtor, Monsieur," I cried. "And one of them +has the key: I think it is he lying yonder. As for food and wine--" + +"We are not without those," said the guardsman. "Our horses and supplies +are near at hand." + +I went among the dead and wounded to find the man who had taken +possession of my keys. Him I found, but the keys were not upon him. +Supposing he had given them to his master, I ran upstairs and examined +the pockets of the Captain, but in vain. Where to look next I knew not, +so I returned to the court-yard and made known my unsuccess. + +"Tut!" said my father; "a door is but a door, and we can break down that +of your tower as we broke down this gate. This gentleman"--meaning the +leader of the guardsmen--"has most courteously offered to accompany us, +with part of his noble troop, and he has chosen a guide from among the +prisoners." + +"Ay, they all know the tower," said the guardsman, "but this fellow +appears the most sensible.--Now, my man, how long will it take us, your +comrades bearing the pine trunk with which we rammed this gate, to reach +the tower of Morlon?" + +"Two hours, Monsieur, I should say," replied the robber. + +"It is too much," said the guardsman. "You will lead us thither in an +hour at the utmost, or at the end of the hour you shall hang to the tree +I then happen to be under." He thereupon gave orders to the guardsmen, +and to the prisoners. As night would overtake us in the forest, he had a +brief search made of the outhouses, and a number of dry pine sticks were +found, to serve as torches. Our party was to go mounted, except the +robbers impressed to carry the battering ram: so I went to the stalls at +one side of the yard, and found my own horse, chewing hay in fraternal +companionship with the animals which had doubtless brought Captain +Ferragant and his men from Lavardin. + +As I led out my horse, I suddenly bethought me of the man for whose life +I had promised to speak. During the final preparations for our start, I +looked again among the robbers, wondering why this man had not forced +himself upon my attention. But I soon found the reason: he lay on his +side, and when I turned him over I saw he was pierced between two ribs +and had no life left to plead for. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +THE MOUSTACHES OF BRIGNAN DE BRIGNAN + + +My father, the leader of the guardsmen, and several of his men walked, +while I rode, to the nearby edge of encircling woods, the defeated +robbers bearing the young tree-trunk. Here my father and the guardsmen +mounted, their horses having been tied to the trees. A pair of panniers +containing wine, bread, and cold meat, was placed across my father's +horse, a very strong animal, and, torches being lighted, we proceeded +through the forest. The guide led, being attached to a halter, of which +the commander of the guardsmen held the loose end. After the commander, +my father and I came, and behind us the burdened prisoners, who were +flanked and followed by the other guardsmen. + +On the way, I told my father who it was that lay in the tower, and gave +him a brief account of my whole adventure at Lavardin and in the forest. +He applauded my conduct, though counselling me in future to look well +before I leaped; and he approved of my offer to the Countess of the +hospitality of La Tournoire. + +"But what still makes me wonder," said I, "is that you should have found +me here, so far from Paris, whither you knew I was bound, and from +Vendome, whither Nicolas must have told you I was going." + +"But in truth my being here is very simple," said he. "As soon as +Nicolas came back to La Tournoire with your message the day after you +set out, I started for Paris to solicit your pardon for the affair at La +Fleche. Six days later I presented myself to the Duke de Sully, who +immediately took me for an audience of the King. There was a deal of +talk about the scandalous disregard of the edict against duels, the +great quantity of good blood wasted almost every day, the too frequent +granting of pardons, and all that. But in the end Henri would not refuse +me, and I have your pardon now in my pocket. But you must not be rash +another time: I promised for you, and assured the King you were no +fire-eater and had received great provocation." + +"Trust me to be prudent," said I. + +"Good! As you had not yet arrived in Paris," continued my father, "I +supposed you had been delayed at Vendome, whither, as you say, Nicolas +told me you were going. So I thought I would start for home by way of +Vendome, as you might still be there and perhaps in some scrape or +other, or I might meet you on the road between there and Paris. I stayed +overnight in Paris, as the Duke had invited me to wait upon him the next +day. I went and was very well received. As I was about to take my leave, +I mentioned that I was going to travel by Vendome. 'Ah,' said the Duke, +'then, if you wish, you may take a hand in a little affair which will be +like an echo of the old busy days.' I opened my eyes at this, and the +Duke told me that evidence had just been brought by one of his spies, +which warranted the arrest of a powerful malcontent in the neighbourhood +of Vendome, who had long been under suspicion,--in short, the Count de +Lavardin. A party of royal guards was about to be sent off at once to +take him in his chateau at Montoire, four leagues beyond Vendome, and I +might go with them as a volunteer, or in any case I might have their +company on my journey. I was quite ready for any affair that had a taste +of the old service in it, especially as these treasonable great lords +sometimes make a stout resistance in their chateaux. And so I had the +honour of being introduced to these gentlemen and becoming for the time +their comrade. That same afternoon I set out with them for Montoire, and +we arrived there last Sunday." + +"Ah! you must have passed through Vendome while we were in seclusion +there." + +"No doubt. That Count's business had to be attended to before he got +wind of our arrival, and so there was no time for inquiring about you at +Vendome. We came upon the Count and a party of attendants in the road, +not a quarter of a league from his chateau. As we heard at the chateau +afterwards, he had been searching the roads far and wide for his wife, +who had fled from his cruelties. He had the daring to resist arrest, and +there was some fighting, in which he was killed. It appears that the +fight and his fall were seen by watchers from the tower of his chateau, +and before we could arrive at that place his accomplice, this Captain +Ferragant, who was in the chateau at the time, made his escape. As soon +as we got to the chateau, we heard of this, and, as the Captain also was +wanted, there was nothing to do but give chase. A few of the guardsmen +were left to hold the chateau in the King's name, and the rest of us, +with no more than a sup and a bite, made off after this Captain. He had +so many followers with him, that he was not difficult to trace, and for +two days we kept his track, until we lost it at the edge of this forest. +From what we learned at Chateaudun, we guessed that his refuge was +somewhere in the forest. That was yesterday afternoon: we at once broke +up into small parties to search the forest, planning to reunite at a +chosen place to-day at noon." + +"It was one of those parties that saved the Countess from the robbers," +said I gratefully. + +"Ay, and there your story crosses mine. As for the ruffians who attacked +the Countess, they escaped without affording a clue to the Captain's +whereabouts,--for doubtless they were of his band, though this was not +certain. When our parties met to-day, one of them brought a forester who +offered to show the way to the Captain's hiding-place if he were allowed +to leave before coming in sight of it. We made full preparations, and +you know the rest. At first we thought our forester had fooled us, and +that the place we had come to was what it appeared, a solitary farmstead +in a clearing of the forest. But in such a case, it is always best to +make sure, and faith, that is what we did. So you see I chanced to find +you all the sooner for not having had time to look for you. But indeed +it was a timely meeting." + +In about an hour after the time of starting, we came to a clear space, +in the midst of which was the tower we sought. We could see it by the +starlight before we drew near with our torches. We all dismounted, and +with a fast-beating heart, I found the door. It was still locked. +Listening at the key-hole, I could hear no sound. I called out, "Louis!" +thinking she would understand I had company to whom her sex need not be +known. I wished to warn her of our assault upon the door, so that she +might stay clear of danger thereby. But no answer came, though I called +several times. I was now in great fear lest she had died. My father, who +read my feelings in my face, suggested that she might have fallen into +very deep unconsciousness, and that the best thing to do was to break in +the door forthwith, as carefully as possible, trusting she might not be +where there was chance of anything striking. As the place where I had +left her lying was not opposite the door, and there was no reason to +suppose she had chosen another, I gave up the attempt to warn her, and +without further loss of time we made ready to attack the door. All the +men in the party, both guardsmen and prisoners, laid hold of the +tree-trunk, by means of halters and ropes fastened around it, my father +and I placing ourselves at the head. The commander of the guardsmen, who +was immediately behind me, called out the orders by which we moved in +unison. Starting from a short distance, we ran straight for the tower, +and swung the tree forward against the door at the moment of stopping. A +most violent shock was produced, but the lock and hinges still held. We +repeated this operation twice. Upon our third charge, the door flew +inward. Leaving the trunk to the others, I hastened into the dark, close +basement, and groped my way to where I had left the Countess. + +"Madame!--Louis!" I called softly, feeling about in the darkness. + +A weak voice answered,--a voice like that of one just wakened from +profound sleep: + +"Henri, is it you?--Mon dieu, I am so glad!--I feared some evil had +befallen you." + +"Ah, Louis, you are living,--thank God!" + +"Living, yes: I have been asleep. Once I awoke, and wondered why you bad +not returned. I prayed for you, and then I must have slept again. But +what was it awakened me?--was there not a loud noise before I heard your +voice?--Who are those men at the door with torches?" + +I introduced my father, who, regarding her in the torchlight, and +showing as tender a solicitude as a woman's, soon came to the conclusion +that her state was no worse than one of extreme weakness for want of +food and fresh air. He carried her out, laid her tenderly on a cloak, +and administered such food and wine as were good for her. She submitted +with the docility and trust of a child. + +Leaving her for awhile, my father and I consulted with the leader of the +guardsmen, and it was decided that the Countess, my father, and I should +pass the night at the tower, the weather being warm and clear. The +guardsmen would return with their prisoners to the scene of their recent +battle, where much was to be put to rights. On the morrow they would +rejoin us, and we should all proceed to Bonneval, where my father's +deposition could be added to the report which the leader of the +arresting party would have to deliver in Paris in lieu of the Count and +Captain themselves. + +I could not let the leader go, even for the night, without expressing +the gratitude under which I must ever feel to him, for, though he was +still ignorant of the identity of the Countess, there was no concealing +from him that the supposed youth was a person very near my heart. + +"Pouf!" said he, in his manly way; "'tis all chance. I have done nothing +for you, but if I had done much I should have been repaid already in the +acquaintance of Monsieur de la Tournoire." + +"A truce to flattery," said my father. "It is I who am the gainer by the +acquaintance of Monsieur Brignan de Brignan." + +"Eh! Brignan de Brignan!" I echoed. + +"That is this gentleman's name," said my father, wondering at my +surprise. "Have we been so busy that I have not properly made you known +to him before?" + +I gazed at the gentleman's moustaches: they were indeed rather longer +than the ordinary. He, too, looked his astonishment at the effect of his +name upon me. + +"Pardon me, Monsieur," said I. "I have been staring like a rustic. I owe +you an explanation of my ill manners. I will give it frankly: it may +provide you with laughter. What I am now, I know not, but three weeks +ago I was a fool." I then told him how I had been taunted by a young +lady, whose name I did not mention, and with what particular object I +had so recently started for Paris. This was news to my father also, who +laughed without restraint. Brignan de Brignan, though certainly amused, +kept his mirth within bounds, and replied: + +"Faith. I know not any young lady in your part of France who has a right +to glory in my personal appearance, even if I were an Apollo,--who, by +the way, is not represented with moustaches. But I believe I know who +this girl may be,--I have met such a one in Paris, and avoided her as a +pert little minx. As for your folly, as you call it, it was no more +foolish than many a thing I have done." + +He had the breeding not to add, "At your age," and I loved him for that. +He and his men now set out upon their return to the farmstead, and my +father and I, after devising a more comfortable couch for the Countess +just within the open doorway of the tower, slept and watched by turns +outside. + +In the morning the Countess, partaking of more food, was in better +strength and spirits, and had the curiosity to ask how my father came to +be there. In telling her, I broke the news of the Count's death. For a +moment she was startled, and then pity showed itself in her eyes and +words,--pity for the man who had been swayed by such passions and +delusions, and who had died in his sin with none else to shed a tear for +him. The Captain's death, of which I next informed her, did not move her +as much. + +The turn of affairs caused a change of plan. She now resolved (as I had +foreseen) to return to Lavardin and do such honour to her husband's +memory as she might. Though his estates would probably, in all the +circumstances, be adjudged forfeit to the Crown, some provision would +doubtless be made for his widow. In any case, she might be sure of every +courtesy from the officer in command of the guardsmen now occupying the +chateau for the King, and there were certain jewels, apparel, and other +possessions of her own which could not be withheld from her. + +In the afternoon, when Brignan de Brignan and his comrades reappeared, +the Countess was able to ride: and that evening we were all in Bonneval. +Monsieur de Brignan had taken possession of several things found in an +iron-bound chest where Captain Ferragant had kept his treasures. Among +others were two papers stolen from me by the robbers,--the incriminating +fragment of a letter to the Count, and the note from the Countess which +I had found upon Monsieur de Merri. The former I destroyed, at the fire +in the inn kitchen: the latter I kept, and keep to this day. Besides +these, there were my purse; a quantity of gold, out of which I repaid +myself the amount I had been robbed of; and the two keys, which I +subsequently restored to the Chateau de Lavardin, whence they had come. + +We stayed the night at Bonneval. The next day the guardsmen started for +Paris, and our party of three for Montoire. As I took my leave of +Brignan de Brignan before the inn gate, I noticed that his moustaches +had undergone a diminution: indeed they now extended no further than his +lips. I supposed he had decided not to be distinguished by such marks +again. He expressed a hope of renewing acquaintance with me in Paris, +and rode off. The Countess, my father, and I turned our faces toward +Montoire, the Countess being now once more on Hugues's horse, which I +had left for a time at Bonneval. We had not gone very far, when a man +galloped after us, handed me a packet, and rode back as hastily as he +had come. I had scarce time to recognize him as a valet attached to the +party of guardsmen. + +I opened the packet, and found a piece of paper, to which two wisps of +hair were fastened by a thread, and on which was written in a large, +dashing hand: + +"_Behold my moustaches. Brignan de Brignan._" + +And so, after all, I might keep my promise to Mlle. Celeste! + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +AFTERWARDS + + +Two days later we arrived at Hugues's house, and were received with +great joy by him and Mathilde. Here the Countess, now happily improved +in health, resumed the attire of her sex, which she had there put off. +My father then accompanied her to the Chateau de Lavardin, and made her +known to the guardsman in command, by whom she was treated with the +utmost consideration. With Mathilde to attend her, she remained a few +days at the chateau, and then removed with her personal possessions to +the house of Hugues, whose marriage to Mathilde was no longer delayed. + +But meanwhile my father and I stayed only a day at Montoire, lodging at +the inn there. I did not go to the chateau, but my father took thither +the two keys, and brought away my sword and dagger, which had been +hanging undisturbed in the hall. My farewell to the Countess was spoken +in front of Hugues's gate when she started thence for the chateau, and +not much was said, for my father and Hugues were there, as well as +Mathilde, and the horses were waiting. But something was looked, and +never did I cease to carry in my heart the tender and solicitous +expression of her sweet eyes as they rested on me for a silent moment +ere she turned away. + +My father and I, on our homeward journey, stopped at La Fleche and +ascertained that Monsieur de Merri's relations had learned of his fate +and taken all care for the repose of his body and soul. It appeared that +he lived at Orleans, and was used to visit cousins in Brittany: thus, +then, had he chanced to stop at Montoire and fall in with the Count de +Lavardin. Alas! poor young gentleman! + +And now we arrived home, to the great relief of my mother; and Blaise +Tripault would hardly speak to my father or me, for envy of the +adventures we had passed through without him. But he spread great +reports of what I had done,--or rather what I had not done, for he made +me a chief hero in the destruction of the band of robbers. But this +unmerited fame scarcely annoyed me at all, for my thoughts were +elsewhere, and I was restless and melancholy. In a few days I resolved +to go to Paris,--by way of Montoire. But before I started, I took a walk +one fine afternoon along the stream that bounded our estate: and, as I +had expected, there was Mlle. Celeste on the other side, with her drowsy +old guardian. She blushed and looked embarrassed, and I wondered why I +had ever thought her charming. Her self-confidence returned in a moment, +and she greeted me with her old sauciness, though it seemed a trifle +forced: + +"Ah, Monsieur, so you have come back without going to Paris after all, I +hear." + +"Yes, Mademoiselle," I answered coldly. "But I have taken your advice +and looked a little into the eyes of danger; and I find it does make a +difference in one." + +"Oh, yes: I believe you fought a duel, and were present when some +highway robbers were taken; and now you have come back to rest on your +laurels." + +"No; I came back to give you these, as I promised." And I threw her the +packet containing the moustaches of Brignan de Brignan. She opened it, +and regarded the contents with amazement. I laughed. + +She looked at me now with real wonder, and I perceived I had grown +several inches in her estimation. + +"But don't think I took them against his will," said I. "I admit I never +could have done that. He gave me them in jest, and the proudest claim I +can make in regard to him is that he honours me with his friendship. +Good day, Mademoiselle." + +I came away, leaving her surprised and discomfited, for which I was not +sorry. She had expected to find me still her slave, and to expend her +pertness on me as before: though she might have known that if danger +would make a man of me, it would give me a man's eyes to see the +difference between a real woman and a scornful miss. + +I went to Paris, careful this time to avoid conflict with bold-speaking +young gentlemen at inns; and on the way I had one precious hour at +Hugues's house, wherein--upon his marriage to Mathilde--the Countess had +established herself, to the wonder of all who heard of it. She continued +to lodge there, her affairs turning out so that she was able to repay +Hugues liberally. She occupied herself in good works for the poor about +Montoire, and so two years passed, each day making her happier and more +beautiful. Many times I went between La Tournoire and Paris,--always by +way of Montoire. In Paris I saw much of Brignan de Brignan, whose +moustaches had soon grown back to their old magnitude. And one day whom +should I meet in the Rue St. Honore but that excellent spy of Sully's, +Monsieur de Pepicot? + +I begged him to come into a tavern. "There is something you owe me," +said I, when we were seated; "an account of how you got out of the +Chateau de Lavardin that night without leaving any trace." + +"It was nothing," said the long-nosed man meekly. "I found an empty room +with a mullioned window, on the floor beneath ours, and let myself down +to the terrace with a knotted rope I had brought in my portmanteau." + +"But I never heard that any rope was found." + +"I had passed it round the inside of the window-mullion and lowered both +ends to the ground, attached to my portmanteau. In descending I kept +hold of both parts. When I was down, I had only to release one part and +pull the rope after me. I found a gardener's tool-shed, and in it some +poles for trellis-work. I placed two of these side by side against the +garden wall, at the postern door, and managed to clamber to the top." + +"But I heard of nothing being found against the wall." + +"Oh, I drew the poles up after me, and also my portmanteau, by means of +the rope, which I had fastened to them and to my waist. I let them down +to a plank which crossed the moat there, as I had observed before ever +entering the chateau. I dropped after them, and was lucky enough to +avoid falling into the moat. I hid the poles among the bushes: not that +it mattered, but I thought it would amuse the Count to conjecture how I +had got away. One likes to give people something to think of.--As for my +horse, I had seen to it that he was kept in an unlocked penthouse.--Ah, +well! that Count thought he was a great chess-player." And Monsieur de +Pepicot smiled faintly and shook his head. + +At the prospect of war, I joined the army assembling at Chalons, but the +lamentable murder of the King put an end to his great plans, and I +resumed my former way, swinging like a pendulum between Paris and La +Tournoire. One soft, pink evening in the second summer after my +adventure at Lavardin, I was privileged to walk alone with the Countess +in the meadows behind Hugues's mill. Health and serenity had raised her +beauty to perfection, and there was no trace of her sorrows but the +humble dignity and brave gentleness of her look and manner. + +"You are the loveliest woman in the world," I said, without any sort of +warning. "Ah, Louise--surely I may call you that now--how I adore you! I +cannot any longer keep back what is in my heart. See yonder where the +sun has set--that is where La Tournoire is. It seems to beckon us--not +me alone, but us--together. When will you come?--when may I take you to +my father and mother, and hear them say I could not have found a sweeter +wife in all France?" + +Trembling, she raised her moist eyes to mine, and said in a voice like a +low sigh: + +"Ah, Henri, if it were possible! But you forget the barrier: we are not +of the same religion. I know your mother changed her faith for your +father's sake; but I could never do so." + +"But what if I changed for your sake?" I said, taking her hand. + +"Henri! will you do that?" she cried, with a joy that told all I wished +to know. + +In truth, I had often thought of going over to the national form of +worship. As soon, therefore, as I got to La Tournoire after this +meeting, I opened the matter to my father. + +"Why," said he, "I think it a sensible resolve. The times are changed; +since King Henri's death, there is no longer any hope of us Huguenots +maintaining a balance. As a party, we have done our work, and are doomed +to pass away. Those who persist will only keep up a division in the +nation, from which they can gain nothing, and which will be a source of +useless troubles. As for the religious side of the question, some people +prefer artificial forms of expression, some do not. It is a matter of +externals: and if one must needs subscribe to a few doctrines he does +not believe, who is harmed by that? These things are much to women, and +we, to whom they are less, can afford to yield. I often fancy your +mother would like to go back to the faith of her childhood,--and if she +ever expresses the wish, I will not hinder her. When I married her, all +was different: I could not have become a Catholic then. Nor indeed can I +do so now. Blaise Tripault and I are too old for new tricks: we must not +change our colours at this late day: we are survivals from a bygone +state of things. But you, my son, belong to a new France. Our great +Henri said. 'Surely Paris is worth a mass': and I dare say this lady is +as much to you as Paris was to him." + +So the Church gained a convert and I a wife. Hugues and Mathilde came to +live on our estate. And Mlle. Celeste, in course of time, was married to +a raw young Gascon as lean as a lath, as poor as a fiddler, and as +thirsty as a Dutchman, but with moustaches twice as long as those of +Brignan de Brignan. + + +THE END. + + + + +Works of Robert Neilson Stephens + + + An Enemy to the King + + The Continental Dragoon + + The Road to Paris + + A Gentleman Player + + Philip Winwood + + Captain Ravenshaw + + The Mystery of Murray Davenport + + The Bright Face of Danger + + + + +L. C. Page and Company + + +The Mystery of Murray Davenport. + +By ROBERT NEILSON STEPHENS, author of "An Enemy to the King," "Philip +Winwood," etc. + +In his latest novel, Mr. Stephens has made a radical departure from the +themes of his previous successes. Turning from past days and distant +scenes, he has taken up American life of to-day as his new field, +therein proving himself equally capable. Original in its conception, +striking in its psychologic interest, and with a most perplexing love +problem, "The Mystery of Murray Davenport" is the most vital and +absorbing of all Mr. Stephens's novels, and will add not a little to his +reputation. + +"This is easily the best thing that Mr. Stephens has yet done. Those +familiar with his other novels can best judge the measure of this +praise, which is generous."--_Buffalo News._ + +"Mr. Stephens won a host of friends through his earlier volumes, but we +think he will do still better work in his new field if the present +volume is a criterion."--_N. Y. Com. Advertiser._ + + +The Daughter of the Dawn. + +By R. HODDER. + + +This is a powerful story of adventure and mystery, its scene New +Zealand. In sustained interest and novel plot, it recalls Rider +Haggard's "King Solomon's Mines," and "She" but the reader will find an +added interest due to the apparent reality with which the author +succeeds in investing the sensational incidents of his plot. + + +The Spoilsmen. + +By ELLIOTT FLOWER, author of "Policeman Flynn," etc. + +This is a story of municipal politics, depicting conditions common to +practically all large cities. The political methods employed, however, +are in most instances taken from the actual experiences of men who have +served the public in some capacity or other, and the stories told of +some of the characters are literally true. The love interest centres +around a girl of high ideals, who inspires a wealthy young man to enter +the local campaign. + +"The best one may hear of 'The Spoilsmen' will be none too good. As a +wide-awake, snappy, brilliant political story it has few equals, its +title-page being stamped with that elusive mark, 'success.' One should +not miss a word of a book like this at a time like this and in a world +of politics like this."--_Boston Transcript._ + +"...It ought to do good. The world of municipal politics is put before +the reader in a striking and truthful manner; and the sources of evil +that afflict the government of our cities are laid bare in a manner that +should arrest the attention of every honest man who wishes to purge and +cleanse our local governments. It illustrates, too, very forcibly, how +difficult a work it is to accomplish such municipal reform, and how +useless it is to attempt it without united and persistent effort on the +part of those who should be most interested."--_Grover Cleveland._ + + +A Daughter of Thespis. + +By JOHN D. BARRY, author of "The Intriguers," "Mademoiselle Blanche," +etc. + +The author's experiences as a dramatic critic have enabled him to write +with authority on the ever fascinating theme of stage life. From "the +front," in the wings, and on the boards--from all these varying points +of view, is told this latest story of player folk--an absorbing tale. + +"This story of the experiences of Evelyn Johnson, actress, may be +praised just because it is so true and so wholly free from melodrama and +the claptrap which we have come to think inseparable from any narrative +which has to do with theatrical experiences."--_Professor Harry Thurston +Peck, of Columbia University._ + + +Prince Hagen. + +By UPTON SINCLAIR, author of "King Midas," etc. + +In this book, Mr. Sinclair has written a satire of the first order--one +worthy to be compared with Swift's biting tirades against the follies +and abuses of mankind. + +The scheme of the book is as delightful as it is original--Prince Hagen, +son of that Hagen who killed Siegfried, grandson of Alberich, King of +the Nibelungs, comes to this earth from Nibelheim, for a completion of +his education, and it is the effect of our modern morality on a +brilliant and unscrupulous mind which forms the basis of Mr. Sinclair's +story. Prince Hagen's first exploits are at school; then in the thick of +New York's corrupt politics as a boss. Later, after he has inherited the +untold wealth of the Nibelungs, he tastes the society life of the +metropolis. + +As a story simply, the book is thoroughly entertaining, with a climax of +surprising power; but, as a satire, it will live. + + +Earth's Enigmas. + +By CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS, author of "The Kindred of the Wild," "The +Heart of the Ancient Wood," etc. + +"It will rank high among collections of short stories.... His prose art, +too, has reached a high degree of perfection.... In 'Earth's Enigmas' is +a wider range of subject than in the 'Kindred of the Wild.'"--_Review +from advance sheets of the illustrated edition by Tiffany Blake in the +Chicago Evening Post._ + +"Throughout the volume runs that subtle questioning of the cruel, +predatory side of nature which suggests the general title of the book. +In certain cases it is the picture of savage nature ravening for +food--for death to preserve life; in others it is the secret symbolism +of woods and waters prophesying of evils and misadventures to come. All +this does not mean, however, that Mr. Roberts is either pessimistic or +morbid--it is nature in his books after all, wholesome in her cruel +moods as in her tender."--_The New York Independent._ + + +The Silent Maid. + +By FREDERIC W. PANGBORN. + + +A dainty and delicate legend of the brave days of old, of sprites and +pixies, of trolls and gnomes, of ruthless barons and noble knights. "The +Silent Maid" herself, with her strange bewitchment and wondrous song, is +equalled only by Undine in charm and mystery. The tale is told in that +quaint diction which chronicles "The Forest Lovers," and in which Mr. +Pangborn, although a new and hitherto undiscovered writer, is no less an +artist than Mr. Hewlett. + + +The Golden Kingdom. + +By ANDREW BALFOUR, author of "Vengeance is Mine," "To Arms!" etc. + + +This is a story of adventure on land and sea, beginning in England, and +ending in South Africa, in the last days of the seventeenth century. The +scheme of the tale at once puts the reader in mind of Stevenson's +"Treasure Island," and with that augury of a good story, he at once +continues from the mysterious advent of Corkran the Coxswain into the +quiet English village, through scenes of riot, slave-trading, shipwreck, +and savages to the end of all in the "Golden Kingdom" with its strange +denizens. The character of Jacob the Blacksmith, big of body and bigger +of heart, ever ready in time of peril, will alone hold his attention +with a strong grip. + + +The Promotion of the Admiral. + +By MORLEY ROBERTS, author of "The Colossus," "The Fugitives," "Sons of +Empire," etc. + + +We consider ourselves fortunate in being able to announce this latest +novel by Mr. Morley Roberts, who has such a wide circle of readers and +admirers. This volume contains half a dozen stories of sea life,--fresh, +racy, and bracing,--some humorous, some thrilling, all laid in +America,--a new field for Mr. Roberts,--and introduces a unique +creation, "Shanghai Smith," of "'Frisco," kidnapper of seamen, whose +calling and adventures have already interested and amused all readers of +_The Philadelphia Saturday Evening Post_. + + +The Schemers. + +A TALE OF MODERN LIFE. + +By EDWARD F. HARKINS, author of "Little Pilgrimages Among the Men Who +Have Written Famous Books," etc. + + +A story of a new and real phase of social life in Boston, skilfully and +daringly handled. There is plenty of life and color abounding, and a +diversity of characters--shop-girls, society belles, men about town, +city politicians, and others. The various schemers and their schemes +will be followed with interest--and there will be some discerning +readers who may claim to recognize in certain points of the story +certain recent happenings in the shopping and the society circles of the +Hub. + + +The Captain's Wife. + +By W. CLARK RUSSELL, author of "The Wreck of the Grosvenor," "The Mate +of the Good Ship York,"' etc. + + +The customary epithets applied to nautical fiction are quite +incommensurate with the excellence of Mr. Clark Russell's narrative +powers, and these are thoroughly at their best in "The Captain's Wife." +"The Captain's Wife" is the story of a voyage, and its romantic interest +hinges on the stratagem of the captain's newly wedded wife in order to +accompany him on his expedition for the salvage of a valuable wreck. The +plot thickens so gradually that a less competent novelist would be in +danger of letting the reader's attention slip. But the climax of +Benson's conspiracy to remove the captain, and carry off the wife, to +whom his lawless passion aspires, is invested with the keenest +excitement. + + +The Story of the Foss River Ranch. + +By RIDGWELL CULLOM. + + +The scene of this story is laid in Canada, not in one of the great +cities, but in that undeveloped section of the great Northwest where +to-day scenes are being enacted similar to those enacted fifty years ago +during the settlement of the great American West. The story is intense, +with a sustained and well-developed plot, and will thus appeal to the +reading public. + + +The Interference of Patricia. + +By LILIAN BELL, author of "Hope Loring," "Abroad with the Jimmies," etc. +With a frontispiece from drawing by Frank T. Merrill. + + +This story adds not a little to the author's reputation as a teller of +clever tales. It is of the social life of to-day in Denver--that city of +gold and ozone--and deals of that burg's peculiarities with a keen and +flashing satire. The character of the heroine, Patricia, will hold the +reader by its power and brilliancy. Impetuous, capricious, and wayward, +with a dominating personality and spirit, she is at first a careless +girl, then develops into a loyal and loving woman, whose interference +saves the honor of both her father and lover. The love theme is in the +author's best vein, the character sketches of the magnates of Denver are +amusing and trenchant, and the episodes of the plot are convincing, +sincere, and impressive. + + +A Book Of Girls. + +By LILIAN BELL, author of "Hope Loring," "Abroad with the Jimmies," etc. +With a frontispiece. + + +It is quite universally recognized that Lilian Bell has done for the +American girl in fiction what Gibson has done for her in art--that +Lilian Bell has crystallized into a distinct type all the peculiar +qualities that have made the American girl unique among the women of the +world. Consequently, a book with a Bell heroine is sure of a hearty +welcome. What, therefore, can be said of this book, which contains no +less than four types of witching and buoyant femininity? There are four +stories of power and dash in this volume: "The Last Straw," "The +Surrender of Lapwing," "The Penance of Hedwig," and "Garret Owen's +Little Countess." Each one of these tells a tale full of verve and +thrill, each one has a heroine of fibre and spirit. + + +Count Zarka. + +By SIR WILLIAM MAGNAY, author of "The Red Chancellor." + + +"The Red Chancellor" was considered by critics, as well as by the +reading public, one of the most dramatic novels of last year. In his new +book, Sir William Magnay has continued in the field in which he has been +so successful. "Count Zarka" is a strong, quick-moving romance of +adventure and political intrigue, the scene being laid in a fictitious +kingdom of central Europe, under which thin disguise may be recognized +one of the Balkan states. The story in its action and complications +reminds one strongly of "The Prisoner of Zenda," while the man[oe]uvring +of Russia for the control in the East strongly suggests the contemporary +history of European politics. The character of the mysterious Count +Zarka, hero and villain, is strongly developed, and one new in fiction. + + +The Golden Dwarf. + +By R. NORMAN SILVER, author of "A Daughter of Mystery," etc. + + +Mr. Silver needs no introduction to the American public. His "A Daughter +of Mystery" was one of the most realistic stories of modern London life +that has recently appeared. "The Golden Dwarf" is such another story, +intense and almost sensational. Mr. Silver reveals the mysterious and +gruesome beneath the commonplace in an absorbing manner. The "Golden +Dwarf" himself, his strange German physician, and the secret of the +Wyresdale Tower are characters and happenings which will hold the reader +from cover to cover. + + +Alain Tanger's Wife. + +By J. H. YOXALL, author of "The Rommany Stone," etc. + + +A spirited story of political intrigue in France. The various +dissensions of the parties claiming political supremacy, and "the wheels +within wheels" that move them to their schemes are caustically and +trenchantly revealed. A well known figure in the military history of +France plays a prominent part in the plot--but the central figure is +that of the American heroine--loyal, intense, piquant, and compelling. + + +The Diary of a Year. + +PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF A WOMAN OF THE WORLD. Edited by Mrs. CHARLES H. +E. BROOKFIELD. + + +The writer of this absorbing study of emotions and events is gifted with +charming imagination and an elegant style. The book abounds in brilliant +wit, amiable philosophy, and interesting characterizations. The "woman +of the world" reveals herself as a fascinating, if somewhat reckless, +creature, who justly holds the sympathies of the reader. + + +The Red Triangle. Being some further chronicles of Martin Hewitt, +investigator. + +By ARTHUR MORRISON, author of "The Hole in the Wall," "Tales of Mean +Streets," etc. + + +This is a genuine, straightforward detective story of the kind that +keeps the reader on the _qui vive_. Martin Hewitt, investigator, might +well have studied his methods from Sherlock Holmes, so searching and +successful are they. His adventures take him at times to the slums of +London, amid scenes which recall Mr. Morrison's already noted "The Hole +in the Wall." As a combination of criminal and character studies, this +book is very successful. + + +COMMONWEALTH SERIES No. 7. + +The Philadelphians: + +AS SEEN BY A NEW YORK WOMAN. + +By KATHARINE BINGHAM. (Pseud.) + + +A bright and breezy tale of a charming New York woman, whose wedded lot +is twice cast in Philadelphia. The family of her first husband committed +the unpardonable sin of living north of Market Street; that of her +second husband resided south of that line of demarcation. She is thus +enabled to speak whereof she knows concerning the conventions, and draws +the characteristics of life in the Quaker city, as well as the foibles +of the "first families" with a keen and caustic, though not unkindly, +pen. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Bright Face of Danger, by +Robert Neilson Stephens and H. C. 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