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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sword of Gideon, by John Bloundelle-Burton
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world 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.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: The Sword of Gideon
-
-Author: John Bloundelle-Burton
-
-Release Date: September 5, 2016 [EBook #52979]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ASCII
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SWORD OF GIDEON ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by
-Google Books (University of Michigan)
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-Transcriber's Notes:
-   1. Page scan source: https://books.google.com/books?id=vapMAAAAMAAJ
-      The Quiver, Annual Volume, 1905;
-      Published by Cassell and Company, Limited;
-      _London, Paris, New York & Melbourne_: which includes
-      THE SWORD OF GIDEON, a Serial Story By J. Bloundelle-Burton
-      pp. 1, 114, 317, 363, 502, 552, 698, 744, 840, 993, 1031, 1175,
-          1226. Copyright, 1904, by John Bloundelle-Burton in the
-          United States of America. All rights reserved.
-
-   2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe].
-
-
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: VOLUNTEERS.
-From the Painting by Arthur J. Black.
-Exhibited in the Royal Academy, 1904.]
-
-
-
-
-
-
-THE QUIVER
-
-ANNUAL VOLUME, 1905
-
-
-Principal Contributors
-
-Elizabeth Banks
-Katharine Tynan
-The Rev. John Watson, D.D. ("Ian Maclaren")
-The Rev. R. F. Horton, D.D.
-D. L. Wookmer
-The Rev. Principal Forsyth, M.A., D.D.
-The Duke of Argyll
-The Rev. High Black, M.A.
-The Dean of Worcester
-The Bishop of Derry
-The Rev. J. H. Jowett, M.A.
-Raymond Blathwayt
-Fred E. Weatherly
-J. Bloundelle-Burton
-Richard Mudie-Smith, F.S.S.
-The Rev. F. B. Meyer, B.A.
-The Rev. Arthur Finlayson
-Guy Thorne
-Pastor Thomas Spurgeon
-Morice Gerard
-Dr. T. J. Macnamara, M.P.
-The Rev. H. B. Freeman, M.A.
-The Rev. R. J. Campbell, M.A.
-Ethel F. Heddle
-Sir Robert Anderson, K.C.B.
-The Rev. Mark Guy Pearse
-May Crommelin
-The Lord Bishop of Manchester
-Scott Graham
-Amy Le Feuvre
-The Venerable Archdeacon Sinclair,
-etc. etc.
-
-
-CASSELL AND COMPANY, LIMITED
-_London, Paris, New York & Melbourne_
-ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
-
-Exerpt:
-SWORD OF GIDEON. THE Serial Story By J. Bloundelle-Burton
-   pp. 1, 114, 317, 363, 502, 552, 698, 744, 840, 993, 1031, 1175,
-       1223. _Illustrated by W. H. Margetson_.
-   Copyright, 1904, by John Bloundelle-Burton in the United States.
-   _All rights reserved_.
-
-
-
-
-THE SWORD OF GIDEON
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER I.
-
-To north and south and east and west horsemen were spurring fast on
-the evening of May 15th, 1702 (N.S.), while, as they rode through
-hamlets and villages, they heard behind them the bells of the churches
-beginning to ring many a joyous peal. Also, on looking back over their
-shoulders, they saw that already bonfires were being lit, and observed
-the smoke from them curling up into the soft evening air of the
-springtime.
-
-For these splashed and muddy couriers had called out as they passed
-through the main streets of the villages that the long expected war
-with France was declared at last by England, by Austria--or Germany,
-as Austria was then called--and the States-General of the United
-Netherlands.
-
-Wherefore, it was no wonder that the bonfires were instantly set
-blazing and the bells ringing, since now, all said to the others, the
-great, splendid tyrant who for sixty years had given orders from his
-throne for battles, for spoliation and aggrandisement, for the
-humbling of all other countries beneath the heel of France, would meet
-his match. He--he! this superb arbiter of others' fate, who had in his
-younger days been called _Le Dieudonne_ and in his older _Le Roi
-Soleil_--he who had driven forth from their homes countless
-Protestants and had cruelly entreated those who had remained by their
-hearths, while desiring only to worship God in their own way and
-without molestation, must surely be beaten down at last.
-
-"And--'tis good news!--Corporal John goes, they say," exclaimed
-several of these horsemen as they drew bridle now and again at some
-village inn, "as Captain-General of all Her Majesty's forces and chief
-in command of the allied armies. He has been there before and hates
-Louis; Louis who, although he gave him command of his English
-regiment, would not give him command of a French one when he would
-have served France. Let us see how he will serve _him_ now."
-
-"I pity his generals and his armies when my lord the Earl of
-Marlborough crushes them between his ranks of steel," said one who
-stood by; "the more so that Lewis"--as they called him in this
-country--"has insulted us by espousing the claims of James's son, by
-acknowledging him as King of England. He acknowledges him who is
-barred for ever from our throne by the Act of Succession, and also
-because his father forswore the oath he took in the Abbey."
-
-"He acknowledges the babe who, as I did hear Bishop Burnet say in
-Salisbury Cathedral," a Wiltshire rustic remarked, "was no child at
-all of the Queen, but brought into the palace in a warming pan, so
-that an heir should not be wanting."
-
-"He persecutes all of our faith," a grave and reverend clergyman
-remarked now; "a faith that has never harmed him; that, in truth, has
-provided him with many faithful subjects who have served him loyally.
-And now he seeks to grasp another mighty country in his own hands,
-another great stronghold of Papistry--Spain. And wrongfully seeks,
-since, long ago, he renounced all claims to the Spanish throne for
-himself and his."
-
-A thousand such talks as this were taking place on that night of May
-15th as gradually the horsemen rode farther and farther away from the
-capital; the horsemen who, in many cases, were themselves soldiers, or
-had been so. For they carried orders to commanders of regiments, to
-Lord-Lieutenants, to mayors of country towns, and, in some cases, to
-admirals and sea captains, bidding all put themselves and those under
-them in readiness for immediate war service. Orders to the admirals
-and captains to have their ships ready for sailing at a moment's
-notice; to the commanders of regiments to stop all furlough and summon
-back every man who was absent; to the Lord-Lieutenants to warn the
-country gentlemen and the yeomanry. Orders, also, to the mayors to see
-to the militia--the oldest of all our English forces, the army of our
-freemen and our State--being called together to protect the country
-during the absence of a large part of the regular troops. Beside all
-of which, these couriers carried orders for food and forage to be
-provided at the great agricultural centres; for horses to be purchased
-in large quantities; for, indeed, every precaution to be taken and no
-necessary omitted which should contribute towards the chance of our
-destroying at last the power of the man who had for so long held the
-destiny of countless thousands in his hand.
-
-
-Meanwhile, as all the bells of London were still ringing as they had
-been ringing from before midday, a young man was riding through the
-roads that lay by the side of the Thames, on the Middlesex side of it.
-A young man, well-built and as good-looking as a man should be; his
-eyes grey, his features good, his hair long and dark, as was plainly
-to be seen since he wore no wig. One well-apparelled, too, in a dark,
-blue cloth coat passemented with silver lace, and having long
-riding-boots reaching above his knees, long mousquetaire riding-gloves
-to his elbows, and, in his three-cornered hat, the white cockade.
-
-He passed now the old church at Chelsea on the river's brink, and
-smiled softly to himself at the _tintamarre_ made by the bells, while,
-as he drew rein the better to guide his horse betwixt the old
-waterside houses and all the confusion of wherries and cordage that
-lumbered the road, or, rather, the rutty passage, he said to himself:
-
-"The torch is lighted. At last! 'Tis a grand day for England. And,
-though I say it not selfishly, for me. Oh!" he went on, as now his
-left hand fell gently to the hilt of his sword and played lovingly
-with its curled quillon; "if I may draw you once again for England and
-the Queen, and for all you represent for us," glancing at the old
-church, wherein lay the bodies of such men as Sir Thomas More, who, in
-his self-written epitaph, described himself in the bitterness wrung
-from his heart as "_hereticisque_"; John Larke, an old rector of
-Chelsea, executed at Tyburn for his Protestantism; and many other
-staunch reformers. "Ah, yes," he continued, "if I may draw you against
-Spain and her hateful Inquisition, against France and the tyrant who
-persecutes all who love the faith you testify to; if I may but once
-more get back to where I stood before, then at last shall I be happy.
-Ah, well! I pray God it may be so. Let me see what cousin Mordaunt can
-do."
-
-He was free now of the encumbered road betwixt the river and the old
-houses: the way before him lay through open fields in some of which
-there grew a vast profusion of many kinds of vegetables and orchard
-fruits, while, in others, the lavender scented all the afternoon air;
-whereupon, putting his horse to the canter, he rode on until he came
-to an open common and, next, to a kind of village green--a green on
-two sides of which were antique houses of substance, and in which was
-a pond where ducks disported themselves.
-
-On the east side of the green, facing the pond, there stood embowered
-in trees an old mansion, known as the Villa Carey. In after days, when
-this old house had given place to a new one, the latter became known
-as Peterborough House, doubtless to perpetuate the memory of the
-dauntless and intrepid man who now inhabited it.
-
-Arrived at the old, weather-beaten oak gate, against which the storms
-that the southwesterly gales brought up had beaten for more than two
-centuries, the young man summoned forth an aged woman and, on her
-arrival, asked if Lord Peterborough were within.
-
-"Ay, ay," the old rosy-cheeked lodge-keeper murmured; "and so in
-truth he is. And to you always, Master Bracton. Always, always. Yet
-what brings you here? Is't anything to do with the pother the bells
-are making at Fulham and Putney and all around? And what is it all
-about?"
-
-"You do not know? You have not heard?" Bevill Bracton answered, as he
-asked questions that were almost answers. "You have not heard, even
-though my lord is at home. For sure he knows, at least."
-
-"If he knows he has said nothing--leastways to me. After midday he sat
-beneath the great tulip tree, with maps and charts on the carpet
-spread at his feet above the grass, and twice he has sent off
-messengers to Whitehall and once to Kensington, but still none come
-anigh us in this quiet spot. But, Master Bevill," the old woman went
-on, laying a knotted finger on the young man's arm--she had known him
-from boyhood--"those two or three who have passed by say that great
-things are a brewing--that we are going to war again as we went in the
-late King's reign, and with France as ever; and that--and that--the
-bells are all a-ringing because 'tis so."
-
-"And so it is, good dame Sumner. We are going to see if we cannot at
-least check the King of France, who seeks now to make Spain a second
-half of France. But come; we must not trifle with time. Let me hook my
-bridle rein here, and you may give my horse a drink of water when he
-is cool, and tell me where my lord is now. Great deeds are afoot!"
-
-"He is in the long room now. There shall you find him. Ay, lord! what
-will he be doing now that war is in the air again? He who is never
-still and in a dozen different cities and countries in a month."
-
-With a laugh at the old woman's reflections on her master's
-habits--which reflections were true enough--Bevill Bracton went on
-towards the house itself and, entering it by the great front door,
-crossed a stone-flagged hall, and so reached a polished walnut-wood
-door that faced the one at the entrance. Arrived at it, he tapped with
-his knuckle on the panel, and a moment later heard a voice from inside
-call out:
-
-"Who's there?"
-
-"'Tis I--Bevill."
-
-"Ha!" the voice called out again, though not before it had bidden the
-young man come in, "and so I would have sworn it was. Why, Bevill,"
-the occupant of the room exclaimed, as now the young man stood before
-him, and when the two had exchanged handshakes, "I expected you hours
-before. When first the news came to me this morning----"
-
-"Your lordship knows?"
-
-"Know? Why, i' faith, of course I know. Is there anything Charles
-Mordaunt does not know when mischief is in the wind?--Mordanto, as
-Swift calls me; Sir Tristram, as others describe me; I, whose 'birth
-was under Venus, Mercury, and Mars,' and who, like those planets, am
-ever wandering and unfixed. Be sure I know it. As, also, I knew you
-would come. Yet, kinsman, one thing I do not know--that one thing
-being, what it is you expect to gain by coming, unless it is the hope
-of finding the chance to see those Catholics, amongst whom you lived
-as a youth, beaten down by sturdy Protestants like yourself."
-
-"For that, and to be in the fray. To help in the good cause--the cause
-we love and venerate. Through you. By you--a kinsman, as you say."
-
-"You to be in the fray--and by me? Yet how is that to be? You are----"
-
-"Ah, yes! I know well. A broken soldier--one at odds with fortune.
-Yet----"
-
-"Yet?"
-
-"Not disgraced. Not that--never that, God be thanked."
-
-"I say so, too. But still broken, though never disgraced. What you did
-you did well. That fellow, that Dutchman, that Colonel Sparmann, whom
-you ran through from breast to back--he may thank his lucky stars your
-spadroon was an inch to the left of his heart--deserved his fate."
-
-"He insulted England," Bracton exclaimed. "He said that without King
-William to teach us the art of war we knew not how to combat our
-enemies. For that I challenged him, and ran him through. Pity 'twas I
-did not----"
-
-"Nay; disable thine enemy--there is no need to kill him. All the
-same," Lord Peterborough continued drily, "King William broke you for
-challenging and almost killing a superior officer."
-
-"King William is dead. Death pays all debts."
-
-"I would it did! There are a-many who will not forgive me when I am
-dead."
-
-"Queen Anne reigns, the Earl of Marlborough is at the head of the
-army. My lord, I want employment; I want to be in this campaign. Oh,
-cousin Mordaunt," Bevill Bracton said, with a break in his voice, "you
-cannot know how I desire to be a soldier once again, and fighting for
-my religion, my country, and the Queen. To be moving, to be a living
-man--not an idler. I have never parted with this," and he touched the
-hilt of the sword by his side, "help me; give me the right; find me
-the way to draw it once more as a soldier."
-
-"How to find the way! There's the rub. Marlborough and I are none too
-much of cater-cousins now. We do not saddle our horses together. And
-he is--will be--supreme. If you would get a fresh guidon you had best
-apply to him."
-
-"Even though I may have no guidon nor have any commission, still there
-will surely be volunteers, and I may go as one."
-
-"There will be volunteers," Lord Peterborough said, still drily, "and
-I, too, shall go as one."
-
-"You!"
-
-"Yes, I. Only it will be later. When," and he smiled his caustic
-smile, "the others are in trouble. If Marlborough, if Athlone, or
-Ormond, who goes too, finds things going criss-cross and contrary,
-then 'twill be the stormy petrel, Mordanto, who will be looked to."
-
-"But when--when?" Bevill Bracton asked eagerly.
-
-"When they have had time to flounder in the mire; when Ginkell--I mean
-my Lord Athlone--has, good honest Dutchman as he is, fuddled himself
-with his continual schnapps drinking; or when Jack Churchill, sweet as
-his temper is and well under control, can bear no more contradictions
-and cavillings from his brother commanders. Then--then Charles
-Mordaunt will be looked to again; then--for I can cast my own
-horoscope as well as any hag can do it for me--I shall be invited to
-put my hand in my pocket, to stake my life on some almost impossible
-venture, to give them the advice that, when I attempt to offer it,
-they never care to take."
-
-"But--but," Bevill said, "the time! The time!"
-
-"'Twill come. Only you are young, impatient, hot-headed. I am almost
-old, yet I am the same sometimes--but you will not wait. What's to do,
-therefore?"
-
-"I cannot think nor dream--oh, that I could!"
-
-"Then listen to me. 'Tis not the way of the world to do so until it is
-too late; in your case you may be willing. Do you know Marlborough?"
-
-"As the subaltern knows the general, not being known by him. But no
-more."
-
-"'Tis pity. Yet--yet if you could bring yourself before his notice;
-if--if--you could do something that should come under his eyes--some
-deed of daring----"
-
-"I must be there to do it--not here. At St. James's or Whitehall I can
-do nought. The watch can do as much as I."
-
-"That's very true; you must be there. There! there! Let me see for it.
-Where are the charts?" and Lord Peterborough went towards a great
-table near the window, which was all littered with maps and plans that
-made the whole heterogeneous mass look more like a battlefield itself
-after a battle than aught else.
-
-"Bah!" his lordship went on, picking up first a plan and then a chart,
-and throwing them down again. "Catalonia, Madrid, Barcelona, Cadiz. No
-good! no good! Marlborough will not be there. The war may roll, must
-roll, towards Spain, yet 'tis not in Spain that he will be. But
-Holland--Brabant--Flanders. Ha!" he cried at the two latter names.
-"Brabant--Flanders. And--why did I not think of it?--she is there, and
-there's the chance, and--and, fool that I am! for the moment I had
-forgotten it."
-
-"_She!_ The chance! Brabant! Flanders!" Bevill Bracton repeated, the
-words stumbling over each other in his excitement. "She! Who? And what
-have I to do with women--with any woman? I, who wish to do all a man
-may do in the eyes of men?"
-
-"Sit down," Lord Peterborough said now, in a marvellously calm, a
-suddenly calm, voice. "Sit down. I had forgotten my manners when I
-failed to ask you to do so earlier."
-
-"Ah, cousin Mordaunt, no matter for the manners at such a moment as
-this. Alas! you set my blood on fire when you speak of where the war
-will be, of where it must be, and then--then--you pour a douche of
-chill cold water over me by talking of women--of a woman."
-
-"Do I so, indeed? Well, hearken unto me," and his lordship leant
-forward impressively and looked into the young man's eyes. "Hearken, I
-say. This woman of whom I speak may be the guiding star that shall
-light you along the path that leads to Marlborough, and all that he
-can do for you. This woman, who may, in very truth, be your own
-guiding star or----"
-
-"Or?"
-
-"She may lead to your undoing. Listen again."
-
-
-[Illustration: "'Learn to know what Sylvia Thorne is like.'" (_p_.
-6).]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER II.
-
-
-Had there been any onlooker or any listener at that interview now
-taking place in the old house at Parson's Green, either the eyes of
-the one or the ears of the other could not have failed to be impressed
-by what they saw or heard.
-
-Above all, no observer could have failed to be impressed by the
-character of the elder man, Charles Mordaunt, Earl of Peterborough and
-Monmouth, who, although so outwardly calm, was in truth all fire
-within.
-
-For this man, who was now forty-seven years of age, had led--and was
-still to lead for another thirty years--a life more wild and stirring
-than are the dreams of ordinary men. As a boy he had seen service at
-sea against the Tripoli corsairs, he had next fought at Tangiers, and,
-on the death of Charles II., had been the most violent antagonist of
-the Papist King James. An exile next in Holland, he had proposed to
-the Prince of Orange the very scheme which, when eventually adopted,
-placed that ungracious personage on the English throne, yet, at the
-time, he had received nothing but snubs for his pains. He had, after
-this, escaped shipwreck by a miracle, and, later, lay a political
-prisoner in the Tower, from which he emerged to become not long
-afterwards Governor of Jamaica. In days still to come he was to
-capture Barcelona by a scheme which his allies considered to be, when
-it was first proposed to them, the dream of a maniac; he was to rescue
-beautiful duchesses and interesting nuns and other _religieuses_ from
-the violence of the people, to be then sent back to England as a man
-haunted by chimeras, next to be given the command of a regiment, to be
-made a Knight of the Garter, and to be appointed an Ambassador. Nor
-was this all. He flew from capital to capital as other men made trips
-from Middlesex to Surrey; one of his principal amusements was planting
-the seeds and pruning the trees in his garden with his own hands; he
-would buy his own provisions and cook them himself in his beautiful
-villa, and he was for many years married to a young and lovely wife,
-who had been a public singer, and whom he never acknowledged until his
-death was close at hand.
-
-As still Lord Peterborough foraged among the mass of papers on the
-table, turning over one after the other, and sometimes half a dozen
-together, Bevill Bracton recognised that he was seeking for some
-particular scroll or document amidst the confused heap.
-
-"What is it, my lord?" the young man asked. "Can I assist you?"
-
-"Nay. If I cannot find what I want for myself, 'tis very certain none
-can do it for me. Ah!" he suddenly exclaimed, pouncing down like an
-eagle on a large, square piece of paper which was undoubtedly a
-letter. "Ah! here 'tis. A letter from the woman who is to give you
-your chance."
-
-"I protest I do not comprehend----"
-
-"You will do so in time. Bevill," his lordship went on, "do you
-remember some ten years ago, before you got your colours in the
-Cuirassiers and, consequently, before you lost them, a little child
-who played about out there?" and the Earl's eyes were directed towards
-the great tulip tree on the lawn.
-
-"Why, yes, in very truth I do. I played with her oft, though being
-several years older than she. A child with large, grey eyes fringed
-with dark lashes; a girl who promised to be more than ordinary tall
-some day; one well-favoured too. I do recall her very well. She was
-the child of a friend of yours, and her name was--was--Sophia, was it
-now?--or Susan? Or----"
-
-"Neither; her name was Sylvia, and is so still--Sylvia Thorne."
-
-"Sylvia Thorne--ay, that is it. She promised to become passing fair."
-
-"She is passing fair--or was, when I saw her last, two years ago. She
-is not vastly altered if I may judge by this," and Lord Peterborough
-went to a cabinet standing by one of the windows and, after opening a
-drawer, came back holding in his hand a miniature.
-
-"Regard her," he said to Bracton, as he handed him the miniature;
-"learn to know what Sylvia Thorne is like. Learn to know the form and
-features of the woman who may lead to restoring you to all you would
-have, or--you are brave, so I may say it--send you to your doom."
-
-"Why," Bracton exclaimed while looking at the miniature and, in actual
-fact, scarce hearing Lord Peterborough's words, so occupied was he,
-"she is beautiful. Tall, stately, queen-like, lovely. Can that little
-child have grown to this in ten years?"
-
-In absolute fact the encomiums the young man passed upon the form and
-features that met his eye were well deserved.
-
-The miniature, a large one, displayed a full, or almost full length
-portrait of a young woman of striking beauty. It depicted a young
-woman whose head was not yet disfigured by any wig, so that the dark
-chestnut hair, in which there was now and again a glint of that ruddy
-gold such as the old Venetians loved to paint, waved free and
-unconfined above her forehead. And the eyes were as Bevill Bracton
-recalled them, grey, and shrouded with long dark lashes. Only, now,
-they were the eyes of a woman, or one who was close on the threshold
-of womanhood, and not those of a little child; while a straight, small
-nose and a small mouth on which there lurked a smile that had in it
-something of gravity, if not of sadness, completed the picture. As for
-her form, she was indeed "more than common tall," and, since there was
-no suspicion of hoop beneath the rich black velvet dress she wore,
-Bracton supposed that it was donned for some ball or festival.
-
-"She is beautiful!" he exclaimed again. "Beautiful!"
-
-"Ay, and good and true," Lord Peterborough said. "Look deep into those
-eyes and see if any lie is hidden therein; look on those lips and
-ponder if they are highroads through which falsehood is like to pass."
-
-"It is impossible. If the eyes are the windows of the soul, as poets
-say, then truth, and naught but truth, shelters behind them. And this
-is Sylvia Thorne But still--still--I do not comprehend. How shall she
-bring me before my Lord Marlborough? How advance my hopes and desires?
-Stands she so high that she has power with him?"
-
-"She is a prisoner of France."
-
-"What? She, this beautiful girl, she a prisoner of France, of
-chivalrous France, for chivalrous France is, though our eternal foe?"
-
-"Yes, in company with some thousands of others, mostly Walloons--muddy
-Hollanders all--and mighty few English, if any. She is shut up in
-Liege, and the whole bishopric of Liege is in the hands of France
-under the command of De Boufflers."
-
-"What does she there--she, this handsome English girl, in a town of
-Flanders now possessed by the French--she whom, I take it, since now I
-begin to comprehend--and very well I do!--I am to rescue?"
-
-"One question is best answered at a time. Martin Thorne, her father,
-was my oldest friend. When James mounted the throne of England he,
-like your father and myself, was one of those honest adherents of the
-Stuarts who could not abide the practices James put in motion. He
-himself had been in exile with Charles and James while Cromwell lived,
-and he, again like your father, went into exile when James became a
-Papist."
-
-"My father never returned from abroad," Bevill remarked.
-
-"I know--I know. But Thorne returned only to go abroad again. Your
-father was, however, well to do. Thorne was not so. When a young exile
-during Cromwell's rule he had been in Liege, in a great merchant's
-house, since it was necessary he should find the means whereby to
-live. When he returned to Liege twenty-six years afterwards he had
-some means, and he became on this second occasion a merchant himself."
-
-"I begin to understand."
-
-"He thrived exceedingly. 'Tis true England was almost always at war
-with France, but war is good for commerce. Thorne profited by this
-state of affairs, and so grew rich. Sylvia is rich now, but the French
-hold Liege. She would escape from that city."
-
-"Will they not let her go? She is a woman. What harm can she do either
-by going or staying?"
-
-"They will let none go now who are strangers. Ere long this war, which
-the claims of Louis to the Spanish succession on behalf of his
-grandson have aroused, will have two principal seats--Flanders and
-Spain. There are such things as hostages; there are such things as
-rich people buying their liberty dearly. And Sylvia is rich, and they
-know it. Much of her wealth is placed in England, 'tis true, but much
-also is there, in Liege. Short of one chance, the chance that, in the
-course of this campaign Liege should fall into the hands of one of our
-allies, she may have to remain there until peace is made--and that
-will not be yet. Not for months--perhaps years."
-
-"But if she should escape--what of her wealth then?"
-
-"She will be free, and still she will be rich; while if, as I say,
-Liege falls into the allies' hands she will not even lose her property
-there. But, at the moment, she desires only one thing; and that
-desire, being a rich woman, she is anxious to gratify. She is anxious
-to return to England."
-
-"And I--I am to be the man to help her to do so--to aid her to escape
-from Liege. I'll do it if 'tis to be done."
-
-"Well spoken; especially those last words. 'If 'tis to be done.' Yet
-pause--reflect."
-
-"I have reflected."
-
-Though, however, Bevill had said, "I have reflected," it would
-scarcely seem as if Lord Peterborough placed much confidence in his
-statement, since, either ignoring what his young kinsman had said or
-regarding his words as of little worth, he now proceeded to tell the
-latter what difficulties, what dangers, would lie in his path.
-
-"I would not send you to that which may, in truth, lead to your doom
-without giving you fair warning of what lies before you," his lordship
-commenced, while, as he spoke, his eyes were fixed on Bevill
-Bracton--fixed thus, perhaps, because he who, in this world, had never
-been known to flinch at or fear aught, was now anxious to see if the
-solemn speech he had just uttered could cause the other to blench.
-Observing, however, that, far from such being the case, Bracton simply
-received that speech with an indifferent smile, Peterborough went on.
-
-"From the very instant you set foot on foreign ground, every step your
-feet take will be environed with difficulty and danger. For, since you
-could by no possibility go as an Englishman, it follows that you must
-be a Frenchman."
-
-"Am I not already half a Frenchman?" the young man asked. "From the
-day my father took me to France until I got my colours, I spoke, I
-read--almost thought--in French. I learnt my lessons in French; I had
-French comrades, as every follower of the Stuarts had, since we were
-welcome enough in France; I was French in everything except my
-religion and my heart. They were always English."
-
-"Therefore," Lord Peterborough continued, for all the world as though
-Bracton had not interrupted him or uttered one word, "if you, passing
-as a Frenchman, fell into the hands of the French and were discovered
-to be an Englishman, your shrift would be short."
-
-"I shall never be discovered."
-
-"While," his lordship continued imperturbably, "if the English, or
-the Dutch, or the Austrians, or the Hanoverians, or the troops of
-Hesse-Cassel--for all are in this Grand Alliance, as well as the
-Prussians and the Danes, who do not count for much, though even they
-will be powerful enough to string a supposed spy up to the branch of a
-tree--if any of these get hold of you, thinking you a spy of one or
-t'other side, well! your life will not be worth many hours' purchase."
-
-"I shall soon prove to the English that I am not a Frenchman, and to
-the others that I am not a spy. I presume your lordship can provide me
-with a passport?"
-
-"I can do so, but it will be that of a Frenchman. Bolingbroke,
-who is now, as you know, Secretary-of-War--oh! la-la! he
-Secretary-of-War!--has some already prepared. His French hangers-on
-have provided him with those. All Frenchmen are not loyalists. You
-will not be the first or only English spy abroad."
-
-"Yet I shall not be a spy."
-
-"Not on the passport, but if you are limed you will be treated as one.
-I disguise nothing from you."
-
-"And terrify me not at all. As soon as I have that passport I am gone.
-I shall not return until I bring Mistress Sylvia Thorne with me."
-
-"Fore 'gad, you are a bold fellow! I am proud to have you of my kith
-and kin. Yet you will want something else. What money have you?"
-
-"I had forgotten that. Money, of course, I have, yet--yet----"
-
-"Not enough. Is that it? Hey? Well, you shall have enough--enough to
-help you bravely; to bring you, if Providence watches over you, safely
-to Liege and before the glances of Sylvia's grey eyes. And, then,
-Heaven grant you may both get back safely."
-
-"I have no fear. What a man may do I will do. Yet, my lord, one thing
-alone stands not clearly before my eyes. God, He knows, I go willingly
-enough to obey your behests, your desires; to, if it may be, help a
-young maiden to quit a town which may soon be ravaged by war; a town
-to be, perhaps, held by our enemies for months or even years. From my
-heart I do so. Yet--ah!--how shall I by this do that on which I have
-set my heart? How get back again to the calling I have loved and
-forfeited--though forfeited unjustly? How will this commend me to my
-Lord Marlborough?"
-
-"What! How? Why, heart alive! if Marlborough but hears you have done
-such a thing as this, your new commission will be as good as signed by
-Queen Anne. He hath ever an eye for a quick brain, a ready hand. 'Tis
-thus that great men rise or, being risen, help to maintain their
-eminence. The workman who chooses good tools does ever the best of
-work."
-
-"Therefore I need not fear?"
-
-"Fear! Fear nothing; above all, fear not that you shall go unrewarded.
-Moreover, remember Jack Churchill has ever been a valiant cavalier of
-_le beau sexe, un preux chevalier_; remember his devotion to his wife,
-handsome shrew though she be. Great commander though he is, he is not
-above advancing those soldiers who can help beauty in distress.
-
-"Now," Lord Peterborough concluded, "go and hold yourself in
-readiness, remembering always that she whom you go to succour is the
-child of a man I loved--of my dearest, my dead, friend. Remember, too,
-that she is young and good and pure and honest. Now go, remembering
-this; and when I send for you--'twill not be long--return. Then, when
-you have my last instructions, as also the money and the passport,
-with, too, a letter for Sylvia Thorne, I will bid you God speed.
-Go--farewell!"
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER III.
-
-
-[Illusration: "'Not forgotten, monsieur dares to hope.'"--_p_. 10.]
-
-
-The bilander _Le Grand Roi_, flying French colours, was making her way
-slowly up the Scheldt to Antwerp, as she had been doing for five
-hours, namely, from the time she had entered the river. Two days
-before this time she had left Harwich, while, since the proclamation
-had been made in London and the principal cities of England that all
-French and Spanish subjects were to quit the country, and that they
-would be permitted to depart without molestation and also would not be
-interfered with while proceeding on the high seas to their
-destination, she had arrived safely. She was close to Antwerp now; the
-spire of the cathedral had long since become visible as _Le Grand Roi_
-passed between the flat, marshy plains that bordered the river; she
-would be moored, the sailors said, within another hour--moored in
-Antwerp, which, since the death of Charles II. of Spain, eighteen
-months before this time, had been seized by the French. For the whole
-of this region, the whole of Flanders, was now no longer the vast
-barrier of Western Europe against the power and ambition of the Great
-King, but was absolutely his own outworks and barrier against his
-foes.
-
-On board the old-fashioned craft--which had brought away from England
-Frenchmen and Frenchwomen of all classes, from secretaries of the
-Embassy and ladies attached to the suite of the ambassadress, down to
-the croupiers of the faro banks and the women employed by the French
-milliners in London, as well as a choice collection of French spies
-who had been earning their living in the capital--all was now
-excitement. For, ere anyone on board would be permitted to land, their
-passports would have to be examined, their features, height, and other
-details of their appearance compared with those passports, and any
-baggage they might possess would be scrupulously inspected. If all
-were ashore and housed by the afternoon, or were enabled to set out on
-their further journey, the sailors told the travellers they might
-indeed consider themselves lucky.
-
-"Nevertheless," said a young man who sat on the small raised deck on
-which the wheelhouse stood, while he addressed a young French lady who
-sat by his side, "it troubles me but very little. So that I reach
-Louvain in two days, or three, for the matter of that, or even four, I
-shall be well content."
-
-"Monsieur is not pressed?" this young lady said, after looking at her
-mother who sat asleep on the other side of her, and then glancing at
-the young man. And, in truth, the object of her second glance was
-worthy of observation, since he was good-looking enough to merit
-scrutiny. His dark features were  well set off by his wig, his manly
-form was none the worse for the gallooned, dark blue travelling coat
-and deep vest he wore. A handsome young man this, many had said in the
-last two days on board; a credit to France, the land, as they, told
-each other often--perhaps because they feared the fact might be
-overlooked even by themselves--of handsome men and lovely women. Even
-his _mouches_ on the cheeks, his extremely fine lace and his sparkling
-rings were forgiven by his fellow-passengers, since, after all, were
-not patches and lace of the best, and jewels, the appanage of a true
-French gentleman? And a gentleman M. de Belleville was--a gentleman
-worthy of the greatest country in the universe, they modestly added.
-
-"Not the least in all the world," this graceful, airified young man
-answered the young lady now in an easy manner; "not the least, I do
-assure you, mademoiselle. In truth, I am so happy to have left England
-behind that now I am out of it I care not where else I am."
-
-"Monsieur has seemed happy since he has been on board. He has played
-with the children, given his arm to the elderly ladies, assisted the
-older men as they staggered about with the roll of the ship, played
-cards with the younger. Monsieur will be missed by all when we part at
-Antwerp."
-
-"But not forgotten, monsieur dares to hope," the graceful M. de
-Belleville said.
-
-"Agreeable persons are never forgotten," his companion of the moment
-replied, she being evidently accustomed to the _riposte_. "But,
-monsieur, this war, this Grand Alliance, as our enemies term
-it--tell me, it surely cannot last long? This Malbrouck of whom they
-speak, this fierce English general--he cannot--undoubtedly he
-cannot--prevail against King Louis' marshals!"
-
-"Impossible, mademoiselle!" the young man exclaimed, while his eyes
-laughed as he answered. "Impossible! What? Against De Boufflers,
-Tallard, Villeroy, and the others? Yet there is one thing in his
-favour, too. He served France once."
-
-"He! This Malbrouck. He! Yet now he fights against her!"
-
-"In truth he did, and so learnt the art of war. He was colonel of the
-English regiment in the Palatinate under Turenne. That should have
-taught him something. Also----"
-
-But there came an interruption at this moment. The side of the
-bilander grated against the great timbers of the dock, the hawsers
-were thrown out; _Le Grand Roi_ had arrived at the end of her journey.
-A moment later the _douaniers_ were swarming into the vessel, hoarse
-cries were heard, the passengers were ordered to prepare their
-necessaries for inspection, and to have their papers ready.
-
-Among some of the first, though not absolutely one of the first, M. de
-Belleville was subjected to inspection. His passport was perused by
-the _douanier_, who mumbled out as he did so, "Height, five feet ten.
-_Hein!_" raising his eyes to the young man's face. "I should have said
-an inch more."
-
-"I should have said two more," M. de Belleville replied with a laugh.
-"_Mais, que voulez vous?_ The monsieur at our embassy would have it
-so, in spite of my pardonable remonstrances. Therefore five feet ten I
-have to be. And he was short himself. Let us forgive him."
-
-"Monsieur is gay and debonair. _Bon!_ That is the way to live long.
-Eyes, dark. _Bon!_ Hair," putting up a forefinger and lifting M. de
-Belleville's peruke an inch or so, "dark. _Bon!_ Age, twenty-nine."
-
-"Another affront. I assure you, monsieur, I told the gentleman I am
-but twenty-eight and four months."
-
-"_Ohe!_ Monsieur has a light vein. When a man has passed twenty-eight
-he is twenty-nine in the eyes of the law. Monsieur's vanity need not
-be offended. Now, monsieur, the pockets. 'Tis but a ceremony, I assure
-monsieur."
-
-The pockets were soon done with. The man saw a purse through which
-glistened many pistoles and louis d'or and gold crowns, several bills
-drawn by the great French banker Bernard, which could be changed
-almost anywhere, and--a portrait.
-
-"_Hein!_" the man said, though not rudely. "A beautiful young lady.
-Handsome as monsieur himself, doubtless one whom----"
-
-"Precisely. There is nothing more?"
-
-"Except the baggage."
-
-"I have none. By to-night, or to-morrow, or the next day, I hope to be
-in Marshal de Boufflers' lines."
-
-"Monsieur must ride then. The Marshal's lines stretch from----"
-
-"I know. I shall reach them as soon as horse can carry me."
-
-After which the young man was permitted to walk ashore.
-
-
-"So," 'Monsieur de Belleville' said to himself, as now, with his
-large cloak over his arm, he made his way to the vicinity of the
-cathedral, "I am here. So far so good. Yet this is but the first step.
-I must be wary. Vengeance confound the vagabond!" he went on as his
-thought changed. "I wish he had not looked on that sweet face and
-stately form of Sylvia Thorne. Almost it seems a sacrilege. Cousin
-Mordaunt gave me that as my passport to her. I wonder if he dreams of
-how many times I have gazed on it since I parted from him? Still, it
-had to be shown."
-
-Consoled with this reflection, the young man continued on his way
-until the _carillons_ sounding above his head told him that the
-cathedral was close at hand. Then, emerging suddenly from a narrow
-street full of lofty houses, he found himself on the cathedral
-_place_, and looked around for some hostelry where he might rest for
-the day and part of the night.
-
-His first necessity was a horse. This it was important he should
-obtain at once, directly after he had procured a room and a meal. Yet,
-he thought, there should be no difficulty in that. The French, who
-never neglected the art of possessing themselves of the spoils of war,
-were reported to have laid all the country round under such
-contributions of food, cattle, forage, and other things, that he had
-read in the _Flying Post_ ere he left London how, in spite of their
-large armies scattered over Flanders, they were now selling back at
-very small prices the things they had plundered.
-
-"But first for an inn," said Bevill Bracton (the _soi-disant_ M. de
-Belleville) to himself. Directing his steps, therefore, across the
-wide _place_ and towards a deep archway, over which was announced the
-name of an inn, he entered the house and stated that he wanted a room
-for the night.
-
-"A room?" the surly Dutch landlord repeated, looking up as he heard
-himself addressed in the French language--doubtless he had good reason
-to be surly! "A room? Two dollars a night, payable in advance."
-
-"'Tis very well. You do not refuse French money?"
-
-"No, 'specially as we see little enough of it. Hans," addressing a boy
-in the courtyard after he had received the equivalent of two dollars,
-"show the French gentleman to No. 89. All food and wine," he added,
-"is also payable in advance."
-
-"That can also be accomplished. Likewise the price of a horse, if I
-can purchase one."
-
-"_Ja, ja!_ Very well!" the man said, brisking up at this. "If monsieur
-desires a horse, and will pay for it, I have many from which he may
-choose."
-
-"So be it; when I descend I will inspect them. Now," to the boy, "show
-me to the room."
-
-Arrived at No. 89, which, like all Dutch rooms, was scrupulously clean
-if bare of aught but the most necessary furniture, Bevill, after
-having made some sort of toilette, and one which would have to suffice
-until he had bought a haversack and some brushes and other
-necessaries, was ready for his meal.
-
-He went downstairs now to where the surly Dutch landlord still sat in
-his little bureau, and asked him if the horses were ready for
-inspection. Receiving, however, the information that two or three had
-been sent for from some stables that were in another street, he
-decided to proceed to the long, low room where repasts were partaken
-of. Before he did so, however, the landlord told him that it was
-necessary to inscribe his name and calling in a register that was kept
-of all guests staying at the inn.
-
-Knowing this to be an invariable custom, as it had always been for
-many long years--for centuries, indeed--on the Continent, Bevill made
-no demur, but, taking a pen, he dipped it in the inkhorn and wrote
-down, "Andre de Belleville, Francais, Secretaire d'Embassade recemment
-a Londres," since thus ran the passport which had been procured for
-him by Lord Peterborough.
-
-After which, on the landlord having stated that this information was
-all that the Lieutenant of Police would require, Bevill proceeded to
-the room where a meal could be obtained--a meal which, as he had
-already been warned, he would have to pay for in advance. For now--and
-it was not to be marvelled at--there was no Dutchman in all Holland
-who would trust any Frenchman a sol for bite, or sup, or bed.
-
-By the time this repast was finished, the horses from which Bevill was
-to select one were in the courtyard, and, being informed of this, he
-went out to see them. One glance from his accustomed eye, the eye of
-an ex-cuirassier who had followed William of Orange and fought under
-his command, was enough to show him that any one of them was
-sufficient for his purpose of reaching Liege by ordinary stages.
-Therefore the bargain was soon struck, six pistoles[1] being paid for
-the stoutest of the animals, a strong, good-looking black horse, and
-the one that seemed as if, at an emergency, it could attain a good
-speed--an emergency which, Bevill thought, might well occur at any
-moment on his route through roads and towns bristling with French
-soldiers.
-
-As, however, the landlord and he returned to the bureau to complete
-the transaction, Bevill saw, somewhat to his surprise, a man leave the
-bureau--a man elderly and cadaverous--one who wore a bushy beard that
-was almost grey, and who looked as though he was far advanced in a
-decline. A man whose face appeared familiar to Bracton, yet one which,
-while being thus familiar, did not at first recall to him the moment
-or place where he had once seen or known him.
-
-"Fore 'gad!" he said to himself. "Where have I seen that fellow?" And
-Bevill Bracton glanced down the passage as though desiring that the
-man would return. Not seeing him, however, he stepped back from the
-gloom of the passage into the sunshine of the courtyard and counted
-out into his hand the six pistoles he was to pay. Then, as he did so,
-he heard a step behind him--a step which he imagined to be that of the
-landlord as he came forth with the receipt, and, looking round, saw
-that the strange man was now in the bureau, and bending over the
-register. A moment later he heard him say to the landlord, while
-speaking in a husky, soddened voice:
-
-"There was no secretary named Andre de Belleville at the French
-Embassy. The statement is false. I shall communicate with the
-Lieutenant of Police at once. I warn you not to let him depart."
-
-Then, in an instant, the man was gone, he passing down the passage and
-out into the Dutch kitchen garden.
-
-But Bevill had heard enough, had learnt enough.
-
-The voice of the man, added to what he had already seen of him, aided
-his wandering recollection--it told him who the man was.
-
-"'Tis Sparmann," he said to himself. "Sparmann, who, two years ago,
-had my sword through him from front to back. It is enough. There is no
-rest here for me. To-night I must be far from Antwerp. My lord said
-well. It is death if I am discovered."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IV.
-
-
-The great high road that runs almost in a straight line from Antwerp
-to Cologne passes through many an ancient town and village, each and
-all of which have owned the sway of numerous masters. For Spain once
-had its grip fast on them, as also did Austria, Spain's half-sister;
-dukes, reigning over the provinces, fierce, cruel, and tyrannical,
-have sweated the blood from out the pores of the back-bowed peasants;
-prince-bishops, such as those of Liege and Antwerp and Cologne, have
-also held all the land in their iron grasp; even the Inquisition once
-heaped its ferocious brutalities on the dwellers therein. Also, France
-has sacked the towns and cities of the land, while armies composed of
-men who drew their existence from English soil have besieged and
-taken, and then lost and taken again, those very towns and cities and
-villages.
-
-Among the cities, at this period garrisoned and environed by one of
-the armies of Louis le Grand, none was more fair and stately than
-Louvain, though over her now there hangs, as there has hung for two
-hundred years, an air of desolation. For she who once numbered within
-her walls a hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants has, since the War
-of the Spanish Succession, been gradually becoming more and more
-desolate; her great University, consisting once of forty colleges,
-exists only in a very inferior degree; where streets full of stately
-Spanish houses stood are meadows, vineyards, gardens, and orchards
-now.
-
-But Louvain was still stately, as, at sunset in the latter part of May
-in the year of our Lord 1702, a horseman drew up at the western
-_porte_ of the city walls, and, hammering on the great storm-beaten
-gate, clamoured for admission to the city. A horseman mounted on a
-bright bay--one that had a shifty eye, yet, judging by its lean flanks
-and thin wiry legs, gave promise of speed and endurance. A rider to
-whose shoulders fell dark, slightly curling hair, and whose complexion
-was bronzed and swarthy as though from long exposure to the sun and
-wind and rain.
-
-"Cease! Cease!" a voice in French growled out from the inner side of
-the great gate. "Cease, in the name of all the fiends! The gate has
-had enough blows dealt on it in the centuries that are gone since it
-first grew a tree. Thy sword hilt will neither do it good nor batter
-it down. Also, I come. I do but swallow the last mouthful of my
-supper."
-
-"I do beseech thee, _bon ami_," the traveller called back with a
-mocking laugh, "not to hurry thyself. My lady can wait thy time. The
-air is fresh and sweet outside, the wild flowers grow about the gate,
-and I am by no means whatever pressed. Eat and drink thy fill."
-
-"Um--um!" the voice from inside grunted. "Whoe'er you are, you have a
-lightsome humour, a jocund tongue. I, too, do love my jest. _Peste!_
-These sorry Hollanders know not what wit and mirth are--therefore I
-will open the gate. Ugh! ugh! ugh!"
-
-"Hast choked thyself in thine eager courtesy? Wash it down, man--wash
-it down with a flask of Rhine wine."
-
-But as the traveller thus jeered the great gate grunted and squeaked
-on its huge hinges; then slowly, with many more rasping sounds, one
-half of it opened wide.
-
-"A flask of Rhine wine," muttered the warder, an elderly man clad in a
-soldierlike-looking dress, and one who looked as if not only the Rhine
-wines, but those of Burgundy and Bordeaux, were well known to him. "A
-flask of Rhine wine. Where should I, a poor soldier of the Regiment de
-Beaume, and a wounded one at that, get flasks of wine?"
-
-"Where? Why, _camarade_, from a friend. From me. Here," and, putting
-his hand to his vest pocket, the cavalier tossed down a silver crown
-to the warder.
-
-"Monsieur is an officer," the soldier said, stiffening himself to the
-salute, while his eye roamed over the points of the bright bay, and
-observed the handsome, workman-like sword that lay against its flanks,
-and also the good apparel of the rider. "He calls me _camarade_, and
-is lavish."
-
-"Aye, an officer. Now, also disabled by a cruel blow. One who is still
-weak, yet who hopes ere long to draw this again," touching his
-quillon. "Of the cavalry. Now, see to my papers, and then let me on my
-way."
-
-"To the lady who awaits monsieur," the man said with a respectful
-smile.
-
-"Tush! I did but jest. There is no lady fair for me. I ride
-towards--towards--the Rhine, there to take part against the Hollanders
-who cluster thick, waiting to join Malbrouck." As the horseman spoke,
-he drew forth a paper from his pocket, and, bending over his horse's
-neck, handed it to the man.
-
-"Le Capitaine Le Blond," the latter read out respectfully, "capitaine
-des Mousquetaires Gris. Travelling to Cologne. Bon, monsieur le
-capitaine," saluting as he spoke. "Pass, mon capitaine."
-
-"Tell me first a good inn where I may rest for the night."
-
-"There are but two, 'L'Ours' and 'Le Duc de Brabant.' The first,
-monsieur le capitaine, is the best. The wine is--_o_--_he_--superb,
-adorable. Also it is full of officers. Some mousquetaires are of them.
-Monsieur should go there. There are none at the other."
-
-"I will," the captain of mousquetaires said aloud as he rode on,
-though to himself he muttered, "Not I. 'Le Duc de Brabant' will
-suffice for me."
-
-
-When Bevill Bracton recognised Sparmann in the inn at Antwerp he knew,
-as has been told, that he already stood in deadly peril. Already,
-though he had scarce been ashore two hours! Nevertheless, while he
-recognised this and understood that at once, without wasting a moment,
-he must form some plans for quitting Antwerp, and also, if possible,
-assuming a fresh disguise, he could by no means comprehend the
-presence of Sparmann in the city. Nor could he conceive what this man,
-a Dutchman, could have to do with the French Lieutenant of Police, an
-official who must surely be hated by the townspeople as much as, if
-not more than, the rest of their conquerors.
-
-Re-entering the passage now, and approaching the bureau with the
-determination of discovering something in connection with his old
-enemy, if it were possible to do so, Bevill observed that the
-landlord's eyes were fixed upon him with a glance that was half
-menacing and half derisive, while, as he perceived this, he reflected,
-"Doubtless the man is rejoiced to see one of the hated French, as he
-supposes me to be, outwitted by his own countryman." After which he
-addressed the other, saying:
-
-"Who is that man who throws doubt upon my identity and the passport I
-carry, issued by the French Embassy in London?"
-
-"He! _ach_ he! One who is a disgrace to the country that bore him--
-to this city, for of Antwerp he is. He was once an officer in the
-Stadtholder's bodyguard, the Stadtholder who was made King of England;
-yet now he serves the French, your countrymen. Bah!" and the landlord
-spat on the floor. "Now he is a spy on his own. A--a--a _mouchard_."
-
-"But why? Why?"
-
-"He has been disgraced. He was always in trouble. A soldier--a young
-one, too; an English officer, as it is said--ran him through for
-jeering at the English soldiers; then, since he was despised by his
-own brother-officers for being beaten, he took to drinking. At last,
-he was broken. Then he joined the French, your countrymen. Only, since
-he had been beaten by an Englishman, they would not have him for a
-soldier. So he became _un espion_. For my part, I would that the
-English officer had slain him. To think of it! A Hollander to serve
-the French!"
-
-"I fear you do not love the French," Bevill said quietly, a sudden
-thought, an inspiration, flashing to his brain even as the landlord
-poured out his contempt on his own compatriot. "The English appear to
-have your sympathy."
-
-"Does the lamb love the tiger that crushes it between its jaws? Does
-the hare love the spring in which it is caught? Yet--yet they say,"
-the landlord went on, casting a venomous glance at Bevill, "your
-country will not triumph over us long. Malbrouck is coming, forty
-thousand more English soldiers are coming; so, too, are the soldiers
-of every Protestant country in Europe Then, look out for yourselves,
-my French friends."
-
-"So you love the English?"
-
-"We love those who pull us out of the mire. And they have been our
-allies for years."
-
-For a moment after hearing these words Bevill stood regarding this man
-while pondering deeply; then, making up his mind at once, he said:
-
-"If I told you that at this present time that young English officer
-who ran Sparmann through--this renegade countryman of yours, this
-_espion_, this spy of the French, _your conquerors_--stands in
-imminent deadly danger in Antwerp--here, here, in your own city--would
-you help and succour him? Would you strive to save him--from Sparmann,
-the spy?"
-
-"What!" the landlord exclaimed, his fishlike eyes extending as he
-stared at Bracton. "What!" while in a lower tone he repeated to
-himself the words Sparmann had uttered a quarter of an hour ago:
-"There was no secretary named Andre de Belleville at the French
-Embassy. 'The statement is false.'"
-
-"Aye," replied Bevill Bracton, hearing his muttered words, and
-understanding them too, since he had learnt some Dutch when in Holland
-under King William. "Aye, the statement is false, but his is true.
-There was no secretary of that name. The passport was procured to help
-that young officer to reach Liege and assist a countrywoman. Also, if
-the day should haply come, to assist, to join Protestant Holland
-against Catholic France and Spain."
-
-"And," the man said, still staring at him, "you are he? You are an
-Englishman--a Protestant?"
-
-"I am, God be praised. I trust in you. It is in your power to help me
-to escape, or you can give me up to the Lieutenant. It is in your
-power to enable me to quit Antwerp ere the alarm is given at the
-gates. If it be already given, my chance is gone! You hate France; you
-look to England for rescue and preservation. Speak. What will you do?"
-
-"The spy saw," the landlord said, still muttering to himself, "that
-you had bought the black horse. Therefore you cannot ride that, though
-it is the best. But in my stable is a bay----"
-
-"Ah!"
-
-"A bay! _Ja wohl_, a bay! Tricky, ill-tempered, but swift as the wind.
-Once outside the city----"
-
-"Heaven above bless you!"
-
-"----You are safe. You speak French like a Frenchman. You have passed
-before as one, it seems; you can do so again. The bay belonged to a
-mousquetaire who died here of a fever when first the accursed French
-seized on the city. I would not give it up since his bill was large."
-
-"One thing only! My passport will betray, ruin me."
-
-"_Nein_. I have the mousquetaire's papers; his French pass. He was a
-captain named Le Blond. With those, and with that thing off your
-head," nodding at the peruke Bevill wore, "you will surely pass the
-gate. But you must be quick. Quick! Time is money, as you English say.
-With you it may be more. It may be life or death."
-
-Even as the landlord spoke Bevill had torn off his wig and shaken out
-his own dark hair, after which the former said:
-
-"I will go get the papers. Then will I saddle the bay myself. She is
-in the stable in the back of the garden. You can pass out that way and
-through a back street. If you have luck, you are saved. If not----"
-
-"I _shall_ be saved. I know it--feel it. But you--you--he warned you
-of what might befall----"
-
-"Bah! You will have escaped unknown to me. For proof, I can show that
-you even left the black horse behind in your haste. How shall they
-know that I gave you another in its place?" And the landlord left his
-bureau and ran up the stairs, saying he would be back with the papers
-of Captain Le Blond ere many moments had passed.
-
-Thus it was that the supposed captain of mousquetaires escaped the
-first peril he encountered on the road towards Liege, towards
-assisting Sylvia Thorne to quit that city. He had escaped, yet he had
-done so by means that were abhorrent to him--by a false passport, the
-papers of a man now in his grave. He who--Heaven pardon him!--could he
-have had matters as he desired, would have ridden boldly and openly to
-every barrier, have faced every soldier of the enemy, and, announcing
-himself as what he was, have got through or finished his mission
-almost ere it was begun.
-
-Yet that escape was indeed perilous, and, though Bevill Bracton knew
-it not, he had, even with the aid of the landlord, only missed
-discovery by a hair's breadth.
-
-For, but a quarter of an hour before he rode towards the city barrier,
-the guard had been changed; a troop of the Regiment d'Orleans had
-relieved a troop of the Mousquetaires Gris. Had Bevill, therefore,
-arrived before this took place, he would at once have been discovered
-and his fate sealed, since all would have known that le Capitaine Le
-Blond had been dead for months. But with the men of the Regiment
-d'Orleans it was different, since they had but marched in a week or so
-before, and probably--though it need by no means have been so--knew
-not the name or appearance of the officers of the mousquetaires.
-
-
-[Illustration: "'Would you strive to save him--from Sparmann, the
-spy?'"]
-
-
-Bevill soon learnt, however, that Sparmann had wasted no time. Had he
-not acquired those papers, his undertaking must have ended here. The
-sergeant at the barrier, who came forward to inspect the paper he
-presented, carried in his hand another, which he read as Bevill rode
-up; and the latter divined, by the swift glance the trooper cast at
-his horse, and divined it with a feeling of actual certainty, that on
-that paper was a description of the black horse and his own
-appearance. But the horse was not the same, the peruke was wanting,
-and his riding cloak hid all that was beneath. Consequently, with a
-muttered "_Bon voyage_, M. le capitaine," and a salute, the sergeant
-stood back as Bevill rode through on the bay mare, who justified the
-character her recent owner had given her by lashing out with her hind
-legs and prancing from one side of the road to the other in her
-endeavour to unseat her rider. Soon finding, however, that she had her
-master on her back, she settled down into a swinging stride and bore
-him swiftly along the great, white east road.
-
-And now he was in Louvain, after having passed by numberless
-implements of warfare collected by the roadside and watched over by
-French soldiery, as well as having passed also two French regiments
-marching swiftly towards Antwerp, there to reinforce the garrison,
-since, as war was declared, none knew how soon the forces of the
-redoubtable Marlborough, or Malbrouck, as they called him, might
-appear.
-
-He was in Louvain, riding up an old, quiet street full of Spanish
-houses with pointed roofs that almost touched those of the opposite
-side, and allowed only a glimpse of the roseate hue of the early
-summer sunset to be seen between them. And soon, following the
-directions given him by the soldier at the gate, he reached the
-hostelry "Le Duc de Brabant," a house that looked almost as old as
-Time itself. One that, to each of its numerous windows, had huge
-projecting balconies of dark discoloured stone, of which the house
-itself was composed; an old, dark mansion, on whose walls were painted
-innumerable frescoes, most of which represented sacred subjects but
-some of which also depicted arrogantly the great deeds and triumphs of
-the Dukes of Brabant. A house having, too, a huge pointed gateway, the
-summit of which extended higher than the top of the windows of the
-first floor, and down one side of which there trailed a coiled rope
-carved in the stone, while, on the other side, was carved in the same
-way an axe, a block, and a miniature gibbet.
-
-"Ominous signs for those who enter here," Bevill thought to himself,
-while the mare's hoofs clattered on the cobblestones as he rode under
-the archway. "Ominous once in far-off days for those who entered here,
-if this was some hall of justice, or the residence of their,
-doubtless, tyrannical rulers. Yet will I not believe that they are
-ominous for me. I have no superstitions, and, I thank Heaven devoutly,
-I have no fear. Yet," he muttered to himself as he prepared to
-dismount, "I would I had not to resort to so many subterfuges. Rather
-would I be passing for what I should be--a soldier belonging to those
-who have sworn to break down the power of this great ambitious king,
-this champion of the bigotry that we despise." Then, in an easier vein
-he added, as though to console himself, "No matter! What I do I do to
-help, perhaps to save, a helpless woman; to reinstate myself in the
-calling I love, the calling from which I was unjustly cast forth.
-And," he concluded, as he cast the reins to the servitors who had run
-into the courtyard at the clatter made by the mare's hoofs, "it is war
-time, and so--_a la guerre, comme a la guerre!_"
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER V.
-
-
-As Bevill dismounted in the great courtyard, and, addressing a man who
-was evidently the innkeeper, told him that he desired accommodation
-for the night, he recognised that, whatever might be the inferiority
-of this house to its rival, "L'Ours," it had at least some traveller,
-or travellers, of importance staying in it.
-
-In one corner of the yard, round which ran a railed platform level
-with the ground floor and having four openings with steps leading up
-to that floor, there stood, horseless now, a large travelling coach,
-of the kind which, later, came to be called a _berline_. This
-construction was a massive one, since inside it were to be seen not
-only the front and back seats--the latter so deep and vast that one
-person might have made a bed of it by lying crosswise--but also a
-small table, which was firmly fixed into the floor in the middle of
-the vehicle. The body of the coach was slung on to huge leathern
-braces, which also served as springs, and was a considerable height
-from the ground--so high, indeed, that the steps outside the doors
-were four in number, though, when the vehicle was in progress, they
-were folded into one. On the panels were a count's coronet, a
-coat-of-arms beneath it, and above it the word and letter "De V." On
-the roof, and fitted into the grooves constructed for them, were some
-travelling boxes of black leather, with others piled on top of them.
-For the rest, there were on each side of the coach, in front, and at
-the back, long receptacles for musketoons as well as another for a
-horn, the weapons and instrument being visible.
-
-"A fine carriage," Bevill said to the landlord, who seemed equally as
-surly and ungracious, if not more so, than the man at Antwerp had been
-while he supposed that the traveller was a Frenchman. "Some great
-personage, I should suppose."
-
-"A compatriot of yours," the man said. "_Mein Gott!_ Who travels thus
-in our land but your countrymen--and women? Yet," he added still more
-morosely, "it may not be ever thus."
-
-Ignoring this remark, which naturally did not arouse Bevill's ire,
-since he imagined that the state of things the man suggested might
-most probably come to pass, he exclaimed:
-
-"And women, you say? _Pardie!_ Are ladies travelling about during such
-times as these, when war is in the air?"
-
-"Aye, war is in the air," the landlord said, ignoring the first part
-of the other's remark. "In the air, and more than in the air. Soon it
-will be in the land and on the sea." After which, a waiting woman
-having arrived to conduct Bevill to his room, and a stableman having
-led the horse to a stall, the man turned away. Yet, as he went, he
-muttered, "Then we shall see. England and Holland are stronger than
-France on the sea, and on the land they are as good as France."
-
-It was no part of Bevill's to assume indignation, even if he could
-have done so successfully, at these contemptuous remarks about his
-supposed country and countrymen; therefore he followed the woman to
-the room to which she led him. On this occasion, doubtless because he
-possessed a horse, and that horse was at the present moment in the
-landlord's custody, no demand was made for payment in advance.
-
-"And now," he said to himself, "a supper, the purchase of a few
-necessaries in this town, and to bed. To-morrow I must be off and away
-again. The sooner I am in Liege the better."
-
-In the old streets of that old city, Bevill found a shop in which he
-was able to provide himself with the few requisites that travellers
-carried with them in such distracted times. Amongst the accoutrements
-of the late Captain Le Blond's charger was his wallet-haversack for
-fastening behind the cantle, or in front of the pommel; but it
-required filling, and this was soon done. A change of linen was easily
-procured, which, with a comb, generally completed a horseman's outfit,
-and then Bevill set out on his return to "Le Duc de Brabant." But as
-he passed along the street he came across an armourer's shop, and,
-glancing into it, was thereby reminded that he was without pistols.
-
-"And," he thought to himself, "good as my blade is, a firearm is no
-bad accessory to a sword. It may chance, and well it may, that ere I
-reach Liege, as in God's grace I hope to do, I may have need of such a
-thing. So be it. Cousin Mordaunt has well replenished my purse; I will
-enter and see if the armourer has any such toys."
-
-Suiting the action to the thought, Bevill entered the shop, and,
-seeing an elderly man engaged on polishing up a breastplate, asked him
-if he had any pistols to dispose of.
-
-"_Ja!_" the man replied. "And some good ones, too. Only they are dear.
-Also the mynheer may not like them. Most of them were taken from the
-French after Namur, and sold to me by an English soldier."
-
-"Bah! What matters how I come by them so that 'tis honestly, and that
-they will serve their purpose? Produce them."
-
-Upon this the armourer dragged forth a drawer in which were several
-weapons of the kind, some lying loose and some folded in the leather
-or buckskin wrappings in which the man had enveloped them. At first,
-those which met Bevill's eyes did not commend themselves much to him;
-some were too old, some too clumsy, and some too rusty.
-
-"Mynheer is difficult to please," the armourer remarked with a grunt;
-"perhaps these will suit him better. Only they are dear," while, as he
-spoke, he unfolded two of the buckskin wrappers and exhibited a pair
-of pistols of a totally different nature from the others. These
-weapons were indeed handsome ones, well mounted on ivory and with
-long, unbrowned barrels worked with filigree. The triggers sprang
-easily back and fell equally as easily to the light touch of a finger,
-the flints flashing sparks bravely as they did so. On one was engraved
-"_Dernier espoir_," on the other "_Mon meilleur ami_."
-
-"How much for these?" Bevill asked, looking at the armourer.
-
-"Two pistoles, with powder flask and bullet-box. Also the flask well
-filled and two score balls."
-
-"So be it. They are mine." And Bevill dropped one into each of the
-great pockets of his riding-coat. "Now for the flask and bullets."
-
-"With these," he said to himself, as he walked back to the inn, "my
-sword, and the swift heels of the mare, I can give a good account of
-myself if danger threatens."
-
-The supper for the guests was prepared when he reached "Le Duc de
-Brabant," and Bevill, taking his place at the table, glanced round to
-see who his fellow-travellers might be, yet soon observed that, for
-the present at least, there were none.
-
-"So," he thought to himself, "the fellow at the gate spoke truly. 'Tis
-very apparent that 'The Duke' is not in such high favour as his rival,
-'The Bear.' However, the eating proves the pudding and the drinking
-proves the wine. Let us see to it."
-
-Whereupon he bade the drawer bring him a flask of good
-Coindrieux--the list of wines hanging on a wall so that all the guests
-might see and read. Then, ere the wine came, Bevill commenced to
-attack the course set before him, though before he had eaten two
-mouthfuls an interruption occurred.
-
-Preceded by a servitor, whom Bevill supposed--and supposed truly, as
-he eventually knew--to be a private servant and not one attached to
-the inn, a lady came down the room towards the table at which the
-Englishman sat: a lady still young, of about thirty years of age,
-tall, and delicate-looking. Also she was extremely well favoured, her
-blue-grey eyes being shielded by long dark lashes, and her features
-refined and well cut. As for her hair, Bevill, who on her approach had
-risen from his seat and bowed gravely, and then remained standing till
-she was seated, could form no opinion, since it was disguised by her
-wig. But he observed that she was clad all in black, even to her lace;
-while, thrown over her wig, was the small coif, or hood, which widows
-wore. Therefore he understood the solemnity of her attire--a solemnity
-still more enhanced and typified by the look of sadness which her face
-wore.
-
-
-[Illustration: "He had hastened to the door to hold it open for
-her."--_p_. 122.]
-
-
-This lady, who had returned Bevill's courtesy by a slight inclination
-of her head, was now served by the elderly manservant, who took the
-dishes from the ordinary inn server, and, placing each before her who
-was undoubtedly his mistress, then retired behind her chair until the
-next dish was ready. But, as would indeed have been contrary to all
-etiquette, neither Bevill nor the lady addressed a word to the other.
-
-When, however, the drawer returned with the flask of Coindrieux, and
-Bevill spoke some word to the man on the subject of not filling his
-glass too full, he observed for one moment that the lady lifted her
-eyes and looked at him somewhat curiously, and as though some tone or
-intonation of his had attracted her attention. A moment later her eyes
-were dropped to her plate again, though more than once during the
-serving of the next dish he observed that she was again regarding him.
-
-"Has my accent betrayed me?" Bevill mused. "When I spoke to the man,
-did she recognise that I am no Frenchman? Has my tongue grown rusty?"
-
-Yet, even as he so pondered, he told himself that there was no reason
-that such should be the case. The lady might herself be no
-Frenchwoman, but, instead, one belonging to this war-worn land.
-
-"She may not be capable of judging who or what I am," he reflected.
-
-Yet in another moment he had learnt that her powers of judging whether
-he was a Frenchman or not were undoubtedly sufficient.
-
-In a voice, an accent, which no other than a Frenchman or Frenchwoman
-ever possessed, an intonation which none but those who had learnt to
-lisp that language at their mother's knee could have acquired, the
-lady spoke now to her elderly servant, saying:
-
-"Ambroise, retire, and bid Jeanne prepare the valises. I have resolved
-to go forward an hour after dawn."
-
-The manservant bowed, then said:
-
-"But the supper, Madame la Comtesse? Who shall serve, madame? The
-remainder is not----"
-
-"The server will do very well. Go and commence to assist Jeanne."
-
-"Madame la Comtesse," Bevill thought to himself when the man had
-departed. "So this is doubtless the owner of the grand coach. And she
-is a Frenchwoman. It may well be that she understands I am no
-countryman of hers, though I know not, in solemn truth, why she should
-suppose I pretend to be one--unless the landlord or servants have told
-her, or she has looked in the register of guests." For here, as
-everywhere, all travellers had to give their names to the landlords,
-and Bevill was now registered as "Le Capitaine Le Blond, of the
-Mousquetaires Gris."
-
-The supper went on still in silence, however, and the server attended
-both to the lady who had been styled "La Comtesse" and to Bevill. But
-he was nothing more than a raw Flemish boor, little accustomed to
-waiting on ladies and gentlemen, and gave Bevill the idea that he was
-not occupied in his usual vocations. Once he dropped a dish with such a
-clatter that the lady started, and once he handed another to Bevill
-before offering it to the countess.
-
-"Serve madame!" Bevill said sternly, looking at the hobbledehoy and
-covering him with confusion, while, as he did so, the lady lifted her
-eyes to him and bowed stiffly, though graciously. Then, as if feeling
-it necessary that some word of acknowledgment, some small token of his
-civility, should be testified, the lady said:
-
-"Monsieur is extremely polite. He is doubtless not native here?"
-
-"No, madame. I am a stranger passing through the land on my way
-towards the Rhine," while, as Bevill spoke, he was glad that, in this
-case, there was no need for deception, since Liege was truly on the
-road towards the Rhine.
-
-"As am I. I set out to-morrow for Liege."
-
-"For Liege? Madame will scarcely find that town a pleasant place of
-sojourn. Yet I do forget--madame is French."
-
-"As is monsieur," the Countess said, with a swift glance at her
-companion, speaking more as though stating a fact than asking a
-question.
-
-Bevill shrugged his shoulders ever so slightly, but as much as good
-breeding would allow. Then he said:
-
-"Monsieur de Boufflers commands there. Madame will be at perfect
-ease."
-
-"Doubtless," the other said, with a slight shrug on her part now.
-"Doubtless. Yet," and again she shrugged her shoulders, "war is
-declared. The English and the Dutch will soon be near these barrier
-towns. They say that the Earl of Marlborough will come himself in
-person, that he will command all the armies directed against us. Would
-it be possible that monsieur should know--that he might by chance have
-heard--when the Earl will be in this neighbourhood?"
-
-"I know nothing, madame," Bevill replied, while as he did so two
-thoughts forced themselves into his mind. One was that this lady had
-discovered easily enough that he was no Frenchman; the other, that she
-was endeavouring to extract some of the forthcoming movements of the
-enemy--the enemy of France--from him.
-
-"What is she?" he mused to himself when the conversation had ceased,
-or, at least, come to a pause. "What? Some spy passing through the
-land and endeavouring to discover what the English plans may be; some
-woman who, under an appearance of calm and haughty dignity, seeks for
-information which she may convey to de Boufflers or Tallard. Yet--how
-to believe it! Spies look not as she looks; their eyes do not glance
-into the eyes of those they seek to entrap as hers look into mine when
-she speaks. It is hard to credit that she should be one, and yet--she
-is on her road to Liege--Liege that, at present, is in the grasp of
-France, as so much of all Flanders is now."
-
-Suddenly, however, as still these reflections held the mind of Bevill
-Bracton, there came another, which seemed to furnish the solution of
-who and what this self-contained, well-bred woman might chance to be.
-
-"There are," he reflected, "there must be, innumerable officers of
-high rank at Liege under Marshal de Boufflers; it may be that it is to
-one of these she goes. Not a husband, since she is widowed; nor a son,
-since, at her age, that is impossible; but a father, a brother. Heaven
-only grant that, if she and I both reach that city safely, she may not
-unfold her doubts of what I am. For doubt me she does, though it may
-be that she does not suppose I am an Englishman. If she should do so,
-'twill be bad for Sylvia Thorne and doubly bad for me."
-
-As Bevill reached this stage in his musings, the Countess rose from
-the table, and, when he had risen also and hastened o the door to hold
-it open for her, passed through, after acknowledging his attention and
-also his politely expressed hope that her journey to Liege would be
-easily made.
-
-After which, as he still stood at the door until she should have
-passed the turn made by the great stone staircase, Bevill observed
-this lady look round at him, though not doing so either curiously or
-coquettishly. Instead, it appeared to the young man standing there
-deferentially that the look on her face seemed to testify more of
-bewilderment, of doubt, than aught else.
-
-"So be it," he said to himself, as now he returned to the room in
-which they had dined, and proceeded to adjust his sword-sash, which,
-with the sword itself, had been removed before the meal, and would, in
-any case, have been at once removed by him from his side on a lady
-taking her seat at the table. "So be it. Forewarned is forearmed. She
-misdoubts and mistrusts me. If we should meet again--as meet we surely
-shall, since we travel the same road and go to the same place--I must
-be on my guard. Yet, pity 'tis, if she should be a spy. Aye! if she
-should be. If she should be! Almost it is beyond belief."
-
-He went now towards the stables, to which he had seen the mare led
-when he arrived. For Bevill had been a good soldier once, and hoped
-that the day was not far off when he would be so again, and, above all
-else, travellers such as he was at this time looked to the care and
-comfort of their beasts. Also, in his ride from Antwerp, he had come
-to like this tetchy, wayward creature, which, when her tantrums were
-over, had borne him so well and swiftly on his road. Therefore he went
-towards her stall now, and noticed that she looked at him over the
-board of the division and whinnied as she recognised him, while
-rubbing her soft muzzle against his arm as he stroked and petted her,
-and, in doing this, he forgot the woman over whom, but a moment
-before, his mind had been so much exercised.
-
-The woman who, as she had passed up the great stone-carved staircase,
-had said to herself:
-
-"Who--what is he? Not a countryman of mine, well as he speaks our
-tongue--aye, marvellously well--and courteous as he is. And neither a
-Flemish nor a German boor. Is he an Englishman--is he--is he? Ah! if
-he were only that! Oh! if he were--he who will be in Liege as soon as
-I--he who will be there when the English forces draw near, as they
-will surely do."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VI.
-
-
-That night Bevill Bracton slept well, and as he had not slept since he
-first went on board _Le Grand Roi_ at Harwich two days ago. For the
-vessel had been full of persons, and especially children, who suffered
-from the sea; the passage had been rough and, consequently, noisy;
-while, although the wind was favourable for reaching the Dutch coast,
-it had rendered sleep impossible.
-
-But this night had made amends for all, and Bevill Bracton, springing
-out of bed as he heard the clock of St. Peter's striking seven,
-prepared to make himself ready for the day's journey. Overnight,
-before he had sought sleep, he had thanked Heaven devoutly for having
-allowed him to penetrate so far as even this old city of Louvain, and
-into what was, in truth, the enemy's country--by seizure, though not
-by right. Now once more he prayed that, as he had been thus far
-favoured, so he might still be.
-
-One thing he observed at once as he threw back the heavy shutters from
-his windows, which looked down into the great courtyard. He saw that
-the great travelling coach was gone. The Comtesse, whose title he had
-learnt from the landlord ere he sought his bed overnight was De
-Valorme, had departed with any following she might have other than the
-ancient domestic he had seen at table, and the woman, Jeanne, of whom
-they had spoken.
-
-"Yet," Bevill said to himself, "at the pace La Rose," as he had now
-named the mare, "can travel as against the speed that heavy lumbering
-coach can attain, I should pass her ere she has accomplished half the
-distance to Liege--long before she has reached St. Trond, indeed.
-And," for still there was in his mind a thought, a fear--engendered
-doubtless by the dangers with which he must be now surrounded, and
-would be doubly surrounded as he progressed farther, and when he had
-entered Liege--that in this woman there might be hidden something that
-would imperil his safety, "and if she is a spy, at least it is as well
-I should be there before her. Let me waste no time therefore."
-
-He folded up his haversack and cloak, although, as he could see by the
-courtyard, which was wet and had little pools of rain lying in the
-hollows between the old, worn stones, it must have rained during the
-night or early morning, although it was now a fair, sweet day. The
-late May sun was shining down fiercely on the red roofs; a thrush was
-singing blithely in its wicker cage as though rejoicing in the warmth
-and light; one or two of the heavy, clownish domestics of the inn were
-making an early meal of black bread and blacker beer at a table below
-him; all nature smiled.
-
-He descended, therefore, carrying his haversack and cloak, and with
-his recently purchased pistols thrust in his sash under his coat,
-since no traveller left such weapons far from his hand when he slept
-in strange houses, and, going once more to the _Speiseraum_, ordered
-some breakfast. Then he went out to see that all was well with La
-Rose.
-
-Half an hour later he was on the way to Liege, and was riding along
-roads that passed through orchards which were now losing all their
-pink and white blossoms as the fruit slowly developed on the trees.
-
-Because he was young and strong and healthy; because, too, he had
-great hopes before him, he took a keen delight in all that was around
-him--in the fresh morning air that he drew into his lungs in great
-draughts, in the sight of the full-leaved, half blossom and half fruit
-gardens and orchards, even in the brooks that had been cut by the
-sides of those orchards in long past days, and through which the water
-ran with a swishing sound--he was jocund. He felt how good it was to
-live and to be passing through the land on such a morning as this, to
-hear the birds singing and twittering, and to see the cattle already
-seeking shade from the morning sun; to cry out "Good-morning" to the
-peasants in the fields or "God be with you" to the old people sitting
-outside their houses, their life's labour done. He felt thus because
-he was young, and strong, and full of life; because, too, his blood
-was stirred by the thought of the adventures which must surely lie
-before him; because almost he felt as though he were some young
-knight-errant of dead and long-forgotten centuries riding forth to
-rescue a lady fair who, immured in some gloomy town or fortalice,
-waited for him with longing, eager eyes.
-
-"And if the miniature does not belie sweet Sylvia Thorne," Bevill
-murmured to himself as the mare cantered along the white roads which
-the sun had now dried, "then no knight in armour ever rode in far-off
-days to the assistance of woman more fair than she. As a child she was
-winsome. I wonder if this stately woman, whose portrait I have gazed
-on so of ten since my lord gave it into my charge, is winsome still?
-Winsome--yes, it may well be so. But grave, almost austere, as those
-eyes that look out at me whenever I gaze on the portrait proclaim;
-stately in her bearing, almost cold. Well! Cold let her be. What
-matters it to me? She is not the guerdon that I seek to win, but only
-the means by which I shall win the guerdon I would have. Let me but do
-my best, and all will be very well. Mistress Thorne may freeze me with
-one glance from those calm eyes, and yet my lord Marlborough shall
-warm me back to life with his approval."
-
-The day went on, the sun rose high in the cloudless sky, and, except
-for the various halts which Bevill made under shady trees, or on the
-cool side of old Lutheran churches and quaint Flemish houses, to rest
-La Rose--and once to refresh himself--he had wasted no time. So that
-he knew, not only by the sign-posts and the hamlets he had passed
-through, but also by a _routier_, or chart of the district, which hung
-in the dark hall of the "Duc de Brabant," that he must be nearing a
-small town called St. Trond, a place that lay nearer to Liege than to
-Louvain.
-
-"Madame de Valorme set out at six, the landlord told me," Bevill
-reflected, "and I ere the clocks struck eight; I marvel much that I
-have not come up with her coach yet. Her horses must travel faster
-than I thought, or that coach be lighter than its appearance
-warranted."
-
-Then, at this moment, there came an interruption to any further
-meditations on his part.
-
-A shot rang out on the clear noontide air, one that caused the
-nervous, excitable mare to swerve and spring across the road, almost
-unseating Bevill; and then, while he recovered himself, to gallop
-wildly along the white straight road bordered by pollard trees.
-
-"Gently, gently," Bevill exclaimed, as he endeavoured to soothe her,
-while, since he was a finished horseman, he knew better than to
-attempt to check her suddenly, but drew her up gradually. "Gently.
-Though, 'fore Heaven, that sudden report was enough to startle one
-less flighty than she. Whence," he mused, "did that shot proceed? To
-my left, surely, and from a side road which I passed a moment ere the
-report rang forth. Was," with a dark look on his face, "the ball
-intended for me? Well, we will see to it."
-
-Whereupon, since now La Rose was, by the aid of much stroking of her
-neck and patting and soothing, restored somewhat to calmness, Bevill
-turned her head round in the direction they had come, and at last
-persuaded her, though it was not easy to do, to retrace her steps to
-the crossroads.
-
-Also, he opened the covers of his holsters and threw them back, so
-that the butt of each of his new pistols should be ready to his hand.
-
-"I may be indebted for a favour to some marauder," he muttered, "and I
-abhor debt. If I owe one, it shall be repaid in full." After which he
-loosened his sword in its sheath, and so reached the crossroads.
-
-As he turned into it he saw nothing at first, unless it was the
-ominous twitching of the mare's ears; but a moment later he heard a
-voice, and that a woman's--a voice that exclaimed:
-
-"You cowardly dastards! You--you Flemish boors! To attack a woman--to
-slay an old man!"
-
-"Great powers!" exclaimed Bevill to himself, as now a touch of his
-knee sent La Rose forward swiftly, while at the same time he drew
-forth the pistol from the right holster. "'To slay an old man.' And
-that voice hers. Hers!"
-
-"French! French! French!" he heard several voices exclaim together in
-the raucous, guttural, Low Frankish dialect of the district. "You are
-all French Papists, servants of the great Papist King in Paris, of the
-Italian Priest in Rome. We will not spare you. Or," one voice said,
-"not your wealth, if we spare your lives. And he, this dead one,
-should not have resisted us."
-
-Whatever the ruffians who thus spoke might have intended doing was
-now, however, doomed to be frustrated. Bevill Bracton was amongst
-them--a party of seven men, armed some with great horse pistols, one
-or two with reaping hooks, and another with a rusty sword. In a moment
-they were, however, scattered, the mare knocking down two as she
-lashed out, while one received a bullet in the shoulder from Bevill,
-and, falling to the ground, vowed that he was dead.
-
-But amidst the confusion, and while Bevill cried, "Stop, all of you.
-He who attempts to fly shall be shot on the spot," he was able to see
-at a glance what had happened.
-
-The coach--the driver had doubtless been misdirected, or the horses'
-heads had not been turned down this side road--stood lower down the
-lane than those who had occupied it. At the feet of the horses lay the
-man who was undoubtedly the coachman; by his side knelt the Comtesse
-de Valorme, looking up at the boors who had attacked the party.
-Jeanne, her maid, an elderly woman, seemed to have fainted inside the
-coach; while old Ambroise, who was weeping and shaking all over, stood
-with a footman close by the side of his mistress.
-
-Now, as Bevill dismounted, Madame de Valorme, looking up at him,
-exclaimed:
-
-"Ah! The Capitaine Le Blond. Heaven be praised!"
-
-
-[Illustration: "By his side knelt the Comtesse."]
-
-
-But Bevill had no time to be startled at hearing himself addressed
-thus, nor to speculate as to whether the Comtesse had discovered his
-assumed name from the landlord, or had herself searched for it in the
-register. His attention was otherwise needed.
-
-"You brute dogs!" he exclaimed in the best Dutch he could muster. "So
-'tis thus war begins with you--by attacks on women and old men."
-While, as he spoke, he thrust his discharged pistol back into the
-right holster and drew out that in the left.
-
-"We are starving," one man said. "You--you--French trample us down,
-take all--you, who are as bad as the Spaniards were. We retaliate when
-we can."
-
-"Is there a rope?" Bevill asked, looking down from his seat on the
-horse and addressing Ambroise and the younger man, the footman. "One
-used in the coach? If so, fetch it."
-
-"A rope!" the men howled now, while two of them flung themselves on
-their knees and whined and screamed for mercy. "A rope! Spare
-us--spare us! We have taken nothing."
-
-"Except a life," Bevill exclaimed, glancing at the body of the
-coachman.
-
-Meanwhile, the footman had mounted the box of the coach and was busily
-engaged in uncording the valises piled up on top of it. But while he
-did so the Comtesse de Valorme had risen to her feet and had held out
-her hand to Bevill, which he, after dismounting, took in his.
-
-"How shall a helpless woman, travelling with only serving men in
-attendance on her, thank one who is strong and brave enough to rescue
-her?" madame asked. "How? Ah! monsieur----"
-
-"Madame in Comtesse." Bevill replied, "I have but done that which
-every man would do for a woman. I beseech you say no more."
-
-"It may be that at Liege," the Comtesse continued (and Bevill could not
-but observe how, as she spoke, her blue eyes looked into his as though
-endeavouring to read, to decipher, what impression her words might
-make on him), "at Liege I can return----"
-
-"Madame!"
-
-"----Some of your chivalrous service. Even though proffered to a
-French officer," and now those eyes shone like sapphires, "in
-safety--in--a French garrison, a woman's assistance may be worth
-acceptance."
-
-"She knows me for what I am," Bevill thought; "or, rather, for what I
-am not. And she will not betray me."
-
-The few words that had been exchanged between him and the Comtesse de
-Valorme were uttered in low tones, though, even had they been spoken
-clearly, it is doubtful if the boors who were trembling close by them
-would have heard, or, in hearing, have understood. For now their
-courage, their Dutch courage, had left them; they deemed their fate at
-hand, since, armed as this man was and with a horse on which to pursue
-them, flight would have been vain.
-
-At this moment their fears were at their height; their whimpers were
-turned into shrieks and supplications. The footman had descended,
-bearing in his hand a rope some ten or twelve feet long; while, as the
-man who had shot one of them and, in a moment, terrified the rest into
-abject fear, took it in his own hands, they saw that his eyes were
-directed towards an elm that grew by the side of the road.
-
-"In mercy's sake," the Comtesse whispered, since she, too, saw
-Bevill's glance, "in the name of Him Who forgives all sinners, proceed
-to no extremities. And--and--Joseph, my coachman, is not truly dead.
-The ball has but grazed his face and stunned him. Monsieur, I beseech
-you--nay, I----"
-
-"Madame," Bevill replied, turning his back to the men who were, in
-absolute fact, his prisoners, "I had no thought of executing them. But
-still punishment is their meed. Therefore, I will have them bound to
-that tree and, at the next village or town--it should be one called
-St. Trond--there may be some Prevot-Marechal or Captain of
-Marechaussee to whom we can denounce them. The French, our troops----"
-
-"Yes. Our troops?" with another swift glance.
-
-"Are all about. The line stretches from Antwerp to Cologne, and across
-the Rhine. Into their hands shall these ruffians be delivered. They
-shall be the instruments of justice."
-
-Half an hour after this decision had been come to the coach of the
-Comtesse de Valorme was on its way once more; but now it was driven by
-the young footman, at whose side Ambroise sat. Outside was Joseph
-also, who had recovered from the shock he had received, and was now
-engaged in thanking Heaven for the narrow escape that had been
-vouchsafed to him, and in calling down blessings on the Comtesse and
-Jeanne (on whose shoulder his head rested) and Bevill indiscriminately.
-
-Sometimes ahead of the great travelling carriage, and
-sometimes--though not often--by the side of the open window, where
-Madame sat, Bevill Bracton rode now as escort. But, as he did so,
-while keeping ever a vigilant look-out to right and left and in front
-of him--for he knew not if other groups similar to those who were now,
-with the exception of the man wounded by him, all tied firmly and back
-to back to the elm tree, might be about--his thoughts did not dwell on
-the rescue he had by chance effected, but on the woman he had
-preserved from outrage and insult. Also, they dwelt on what must be
-the state of that woman's mind at this time.
-
-"For she is French, and I am a subject of her country's bitterest
-foe--and she knows it. Or, not knowing, still suspects. And yet--and
-yet--if I mistake her not, if I have read her aright, I have rendered
-her harmless. Likewise, she is a good woman. She pleaded for mercy for
-those vagabonds, not knowing that there was no need for pleading,
-since I am no hangman; she spoke of Him Who pardons all sinners. 'Tis
-not of such stuff as this that spies, denouncers, women who rend the
-hand that is held out to them, are made. Yet, knowing all, she must be
-torn with vastly conflicting feelings. How shall she reconcile herself
-to befriending one who is of those who would render her ambitious,
-evil King harmless? How shall she, a Frenchwoman, bring herself to be
-the ally of an Englishman?"
-
-But still, even as Bevill mused, he knew that he and his secret, or as
-much as she knew or could guess of it, were safe in this woman's
-hands.
-
-A moment later, he had certain proof that he had divined aright.
-
-They were drawing near St. Trond now; ahead of them they could see the
-smoke curling up in the afternoon air, and they could also see the men
-lounging at the barrier through which admission was gained to the
-town.
-
-"We shall be there," the Comtesse said to Bevill, who was at this time
-riding by the window of the coach, while directing her glance to the
-little place, "ere many moments are passed. Monsieur," and she put her
-gloved hand upon the sash and leant forward towards him, "those men
-will have suffered enough by the time they are released from that
-tree. I ask you not to call the attention of any Prevot or officer of
-Marechaussee to their being there, or to their attack on me."
-
-"Madame is truly of a forgiving nature. Yet, since it is her concern,
-not mine----"
-
-"It would be best, even though, unhappily, forgiveness plays no part
-in my desire. Questions might be asked, explanations required; nay,"
-and once more the deep blue eyes looked full into Bevill's, "some of
-monsieur's brother mousquetaires may be here." And now those eyes
-looked strangely; almost it seemed as though they conveyed a menace.
-Yet, Bevill asked himself, even as a chill seemed to strike to his
-heart, as icy fingers seemed to clutch at it, could this woman be
-false; a traitress to one who had helped and succoured her? Was she no
-better than a female Sparmann?
-
-"She spoke," he said to himself, "of Him Who pardons all sinners; she
-besought mercy for those who had molested her. Can such as she be a
-spy? I will never believe it."
-
-Then, suddenly gazing down at her--and now the intensity of his glance
-equalled her own, while he saw she did not blench beneath it--he said,
-not roughly, yet determinately:
-
-"Have done with equivocations, madame, with pointed words,"
-remembering the accentuation of those words "monsieur's brother
-mousquetaires." "Speak plainly. Truth, openness, are ever best."
-
-"If," the Comtesse said now, though still all was not open, her
-meaning not altogether apparent, "if you are what I believe--nay, what
-I know you to be--and you are discovered, your life is in awful
-danger. If you reach Liege you will, if betrayed, never quit it
-alive."
-
-"Who shall betray me to my death? Answer me. Since you have told so
-much, tell more. What is it you know, and who and what are you?"
-
-"A woman," the Comtesse answered. "One who does not betray gallant men
-to their deaths."
-
-"This death you speak of is certain?"
-
-"Certain. Beyond all doubt. For you are----"
-
-"What?"
-
-"Listen. Bend down from your horse. Not even they," with a glance
-above to where the servants were, "must hear."
-
-"Great Heaven!" Bevill exclaimed when he had done so and she had
-whispered in his ear.
-
-For the words she had thus whispered were: "You are an Englishman, and
-your name is not Le Blond. Have I not said truly? If you are
-discovered your doom is certain."
-
-
-CHAPTER VII.
-
-
-The names of some of its past rulers as well as Spanish governors have
-stamped themselves deeply over all Brabant; and scarcely was there an
-inn or wayside hostelry to be found in the towns and villages
-surrounding the old capital of Brussels that did not bear for sign
-either that of "La Duchesse de Parma," "Le Duc de Brabant," "Le Comte
-d'Egmont," or, greater still, "Le Prince d'Orange," it being William
-the Silent, the great Liberator, to whom reference was made.
-
-These names constituted a strange mixture, and combined to form a
-strange gallery of reminiscences. The first recalled a stately woman
-of high lineage on one side and base origin on the other. She was the
-daughter of Charles Quint, of "_Charles qui triche_,"[2] and the
-sister of Philip, the thousandfold murderer--a woman fierce as the
-she-wolf when robbed of its whelps, yet often merciful; one who, to
-her eternal glory, despised that other murderer, that persecutor of
-all of the Reformed Faith, the Duke of Alva, and kept him in his
-place, while sometimes forcing even him to cease from shedding the
-blood of the innocent. The second recorded those rulers of Brabant,
-among whose numbers had been produced holy men and scoffers, poets and
-tyrants; _jongleurs_ and minstrels and buffoons; knights as brave as
-ever Bayard was, and cowards who shuddered and whimpered in their
-innumerable palaces if but a few of their subjects muttered in the
-streets or congregated in small knots at the street corners. The third
-perpetuated the name of Lamoral d'Egmont, brave, bold, and vain; one
-who had been shipwrecked in corners of the world that had then been
-hardly heard of; who had fought for the new faith like a lion, yet had
-almost dreaded death, but had, nevertheless, died like a hero and a
-martyr at the headsman's hands in the great square of Brussels. The
-fourth was he who crushed Philip II. and Spain and all their myrmidons
-under his heel, who established for ever the Reformed Faith as the
-recognised national religion from the German Ocean to the Ural
-Mountains, and who perished at the hand of an assassin bribed by
-Philip to do the deed.
-
-In St. Trond, where the Comtesse de Valorme had decided to rest for
-the night, it was the same as at Louvain, Brussels, and all other
-places. Those names were still perpetuated over the doors of the inn;
-the lineaments of their bearers swung in the breeze or were painted on
-the walls.
-
-"Another 'Duc de Brabant,'" the Comtesse said to Bevill, as now the
-coach passed an inn of this name. It was the first they came to, and
-the landlord, running out bareheaded, begged of Madame to honour his
-house.
-
-"Well, so be it. It is to the former one that I owe my meeting with a
-gallant defender. I will rest here. And Monsieur Le Blond--where does
-he purpose sojourning for the night?"
-
-Perceiving that there was probably in this question some feeling of
-delicacy on the part of Madame de Valorme, some sentiment of propriety
-as to their not entering the town in company--they who, until those
-whispered words of an hour ago, had been all but unknown to each
-other--and of afterwards staying in company in the same inn, Bevill,
-casting his eyes across the _place_, said:
-
-"There is another inn for travellers over there, and it is called 'Le
-Prince d'Orange.' It has a quiet, peaceful air. It will do very well.
-Also, since I have constituted myself the cavalier of Madame until
-Liege is reached, I shall be near at hand to keep watch and ward."
-
-"Monsieur is very good. Farewell, monsieur. Goodnight. When," she
-asked, as an afterthought, "does monsieur intend to set out?"
-
-"Early, madame. Even though 'tis but little distance to my
-destination, yet I would fain be there and about the work I have to
-do."
-
-"If," Madame de Valorme said now, after observing with one glance from
-her clear eyes that her servants--who had now all descended and were
-directing the porters of the inn what baggage was to be taken into
-the house and what might be left on the top of the coach for the
-night--were out of earshot--"if monsieur seeks for peace and repose in
-Liege--though in truth it is not very like that such as he will
-require any such things in a French garrison "--and her eyes were on
-Bevill, while almost seeming to smile at him and at the knowledge of
-his secret, which he now knew she possessed--"I go to join some
-kindred whose house will be open to him. Monsieur has been a gallant
-chevalier to me----"
-
-"I beseech madame to forget any foolish, trifling service I have
-rendered her by chance."
-
-"I shall not forget, and"--though now she paused, and said next a
-word, and then paused again as though in hesitation and doubt, and
-still, a moment later, went on again--"and it may be that all
-service--all mutual service--is not yet at an end between us. If, as I
-believe, there is some----"
-
-"Some what, madame?"
-
-"Nay; I will say no more. Or only this: I, too, go to Liege about a
-work I have to do. A work"--and now she leant forward in the coach
-from which she had naturally not yet descended, while continuing in a
-low tone--"to which I am vowed, to which my life is vowed; a task in
-which so long as I have life I will not falter. And I have a hope, a
-belief, a supposition--call it what you will--that in you I may by
-chance light on one who can help me at little cost to himself."
-
-"I protest, madame," Bevill almost stammered at hearing these words,
-"I protest that----"
-
-"Listen, Monsieur le Blond," the Comtesse said, speaking so low that
-now her voice was no more than a whisper, a murmur, yet a whisper so
-clear that, by bending his head, the young man could catch every
-syllable she uttered. "Listen. Yet, ere you do so, promise me that no
-word I let fall, no thought I give utterance to, shall cause you
-offence, or, if I may say it, fear?"
-
-"Fear? I fear nothing on this earth. While as for the rest, I
-promise."
-
-"Enough." Then in, if it could be so, a yet lower tone, the Comtesse
-de Valorme continued:
-
-"As I have said, you are not what you seem to be. You are not le
-Capitaine le Blond for he was a kinsman of mine and I knew him well.
-I--I--a Frenchwoman--ah! shame on me, good as my cause is--only hope
-you may be----"
-
-"What?"
-
-"As faithful to my desire, my secret, when you learn it, as I will be
-to yours. If so, then all will be well!"
-
-"What else can madame believe I shall be? Speak. I will answer
-truthfully."
-
-"No; I have said enough--for to-night. Farewell. I, too, leave this
-place early. Farewell, or rather adieu." And the Comtesse put out her
-hand to Bevill.
-
-The landlord had been standing in the great stoop of his house while
-this whispered colloquy had taken place; and now, while seeing with
-extreme regret that the handsome, well-apparelled young horseman who
-had escorted the lady in the coach to his door, was not himself going
-to patronise him, he came forward to the carriage. Wherefore, as
-Bevill turned the horse's head towards "Le Prince d'Orange" he
-murmured respectfully, "Madame la Comtesse"--since the coronet on the
-carriage, if not the servants' own words, had told him the personage
-with whom he had to deal--"the necessaries have been taken to madame's
-apartments. Will Madame la Comtesse please to enter?"
-
-Meanwhile, Bevill had ridden across to the rival place of
-entertainment, had given La Rose into the charge of the stableman, and
-had chosen a front room on the first floor of that rambling but
-substantial house.
-
-"There is some strange mystery in this woman," he mused, as he stood
-on the balcony to which the window of the room gave access, and gazed
-across to the opposite inn. "Something that passes comprehension.
-Still, no matter, since there is also a mystery about me. And she
-knows it; she informs me she knows it, and yet proffers me help and
-assistance. Whatever else she is, she is at least no traitor to the
-man who has rendered her some light, trifling service. I am here; she
-is across the _place_. If in the night aught of evil should befall
-her--and in this disturbed land troubles may well come--I am near her.
-We are friends, auxiliaries, though enemies by race."
-
-But now, springing from out of these musings, there returned to
-Bevill's mind the memory of one word that had risen to it; the
-recollection that, in pondering over the mystery of the Comtesse de
-Valorme, he had discarded from his thoughts the suggestion that she
-could be a traitor of another description.
-
-"To me? No! Never! Perish the thought!" he exclaimed, as he stepped
-back from the balcony and threw himself on an old couch by the window.
-"No; but what if she be a traitor to her country, to France! By birth,
-by blood, by all hereditary instincts we are foes, and yet she offers
-me help and protection. Le Blond, the man under whose name I
-masquerade, whose very horse I ride, was kinsman to her; yet she,
-knowing what I am, makes offers of assistance. She a Frenchwoman and I
-an Englishman!
-
-"She prayed," Bevill went on, "that I might be what she believes I am.
-She asked earlier if I could give her information of my Lord
-Marlborough's movements and plans. Great heavens! Does she desire to
-betray her country into his hands?" Then, suddenly, he sprang from his
-seat, exclaiming, "No, no! Never will I believe it! Never There is
-some other cause that moves thig woman to act as she is doing. That is
-the reason for her desire to reach Liege. It is not, cannot be,
-treachery."
-
-The evening was at hand now--one of the soft calm evenings which, in
-the Netherlands, in fine weather, are at times almost as soft and calm
-as the nights of more southern lands; nights when here, through all
-this marshy country, made fertile and rich by centuries of toil, the
-fireflies dance in the dusk as in far off Italy; when the sun sinks a
-globe of flame into the bosom of the German Ocean, and when as it does
-so, the stars begin to stud the skies.
-
-Such a night, such a twilight as this was no time for indoors: and
-Bevill, recognising that for two hours at least it would be folly to
-seek his bed with any hope of sleeping, went forth after his supper to
-take the air. Or rather, since his ride had given him sufficient of
-that, to observe what might be doing in the little town.
-
-Of French troops he observed that there were few about, though some
-men of the Regiment de Monsieur (the Duc d'Orleans) and some others of
-the Artillery were drinking outside an inn while being regarded with
-lowering looks by groups of the inhabitants.
-
-"French--French always!" he heard one man say to the other. "French
-always and everywhere! When will the English or our own troops come?"
-
-"Have patience," another said. "Already, a month ago, even before the
-war was declared, was not Kaiserswoerth besieged by the English general
-Athlone? The city will soon fall now."
-
-"English? Dutch--our countryman--you should say. Is not the Lord
-Athlone a Dutchman? Is he not Ginkell?"
-
-"What matters, so that one or the other does it? Soon Marlborough will
-be here. Then we shall see."
-
-"Meanwhile, he is not here, and the French are; and they eat us out of
-house and home, and do not pay too well."
-
-"They will pay with their skins ere long."
-
-But Bevill knew as much as this himself, so, continuing his walk, he
-soon returned towards the inns in which, he on the one side the
-_place_ and the Comtesse de Valorme on the other, they were to rest
-for the night. But when on the _place_ he could not refrain from
-letting his eyes wander to the "Duc de Brabant," while speculating
-idly as to where his companion might be installed in it.
-
-He soon knew, however, since on the first floor of the house he
-observed that the long wooden shutters were open, and the windows
-thrown back, doubtless to admit the cool air of the coming night,
-while he also saw that Jeanne passed once or twice before them. As he
-did so he could not prevent his thoughts from turning once more to the
-mystery in which the Comtesse seemed to be enveloped, or from
-wondering again and again why she should testify such interest in him,
-a stranger.
-
-Could he have gazed into one of those rooms in the "Duc de Brabant";
-could he have seen the Comtesse seated in a deep _fauteuil_ wrapped in
-meditation; above all, could he have caught the occasional expressions
-that fell from her lips; or, gazing into her mind, have probed her
-innermost thoughts, he would have wondered no longer.
-
-"For fourteen years now," he would in such a case have heard her say,
-or have gathered from the Comtesse de Valorme's thoughts, "we have
-suffered and borne all from him--and from her who sits by his side.
-From her, the scourge and curse of France, the snake that sucks the
-life-blood from all who do not worship as she does. Oh! God," he would
-have heard the undoubtedly unhappy woman exclaim, as she lifted her
-eyes, "how long is it to be? How long for all of us? Fathers, mothers,
-husbands, all--all--dead--done to death, either on the wheel or the
-gallows, or in the galleys or the dungeons. And for what? Because we
-desire to worship God in our own way--the way his grandsire promised
-solemnly that we should worship: the way for following which this one
-burns us, racks us, destroys our homes, drives us forth to exile and
-beggary."
-
-Still gazing in at those open windows from the other side of the
-_place_, while unable to see the woman on whom his thoughts rested,
-Bevill did at last, however, discover that she was there. As he still
-stood and meditated, her form came suddenly before his eyes and he
-recognised that she must have suddenly sprung up from some chair or
-couch; while, from her commencing to pace the room and by her almost
-distracted appearance, he gathered that her mind was a prey to the
-most agitating thoughts. Even then, however, he could not divine what
-those thoughts might be, or that he was the central figure of them.
-This was as impossible as it was for him to hear her say:
-
-"And now this man, who is, since he does not deny it, an Englishman;
-this man, disguised as a French soldier, while, in sober truth, I do
-believe him to be an English one, is on his way to Liege on some
-secret mission. 'Some work he has to do,' as he avowed. What work?
-What? Is he a spy of the English generals? Above all, can he help me?
-Can he bring me to Marlborough, give me the opportunity I have so long
-desired of throwing myself at his feet, of beseeching him to hurry
-forward that invasion of the South which can alone save those of us
-who are still alive? Can he? Can he? Oh, if I did but know!"
-
-Suddenly, as Bevill stood there gazing at the undoubtedly unhappy,
-distracted woman there came the ripple of a cool evening breeze
-through the heated air that the day had left behind. A light breeze
-that shook the leaves of the orange trees in their tubs before the inn
-doors, and also those of the pollards which grew round the _place_. A
-moment later he saw Jeanne pull to the wooden shutters. Except for a
-streak of light that issued from the air slits at the top of them, all
-was now dark and veiled.
-
-"Poor lady!" Bevill said to himself, as now, in the same manner as he
-had done overnight, and as he would do every night whenever he might
-be on the road, or on any journey--and as, perhaps, he would do should
-he and Sylvia Thorne be able to make their way out of Liege, in the
-endeavour to fall in with any of the English or Dutch forces--he
-directed his steps towards the stables of the "Prince d'Orange" to see
-that all was well with his horse.
-
-Those stables were reached by passing down a small alley or _ruelle_
-that ran by the side of the "Prince d'Orange," and lay behind the
-house, entrance being obtained by a turn to the right when the end of
-the alley was attained.
-
-Finding an ostler, or horse-watcher, in this alley, Bevill requested
-the man to accompany him to the door and unlock it; but, learning that
-the stables were not yet closed and would not be for yet another hour,
-and that there was a lanthorn hanging on the hook inside, he proceeded
-alone.
-
-A moment later he pushed open the door and called to the mare, who by
-now knew not only his voice, but the new name he had given her, and
-learnt by her whimper that she had recognised his presence.
-
-
-[Illustration: "'I, too, go to Liege about a work I have to
-do.'"--_p_. 318.]
-
-
-But as he advanced to see that all was well with her, he heard a
-rustle in the straw of an empty stall close by the door, and the next
-instant saw a man walk swiftly out of that stall and through the door
-into the alley--a man whose cloak was thrown across his face and held
-by his right hand, and whose slouching hat fell over the upper part of
-it. Yet this attempted and almost successful disguise did not
-altogether serve to cloak the whole of his features. His eyes, dark
-and flashing, appeared above the edging of the cloak. Where his hand
-held the folds together there protruded a wisp of grizzled beard.
-
-"Where have I seen those eyes, that beard before?" Bevill wondered,
-while remembering a moment later.
-
-"It is Sparmann!" he said. "Sparmann! And he is following either the
-Comtesse or me--or both."
-
-After which he went swiftly to the mare and made a rapid but thorough
-inspection of her, thereby to discover if she was injured in any part;
-and also looked to see if the fodder remained untampered with in the
-manger; while, taking up next the half-emptied bucket, he threw the
-water that remained in it away, and, going out into the alley,
-refilled it.
-
-"I will stay here until the stables are locked for the night," he
-said, approaching the horse-watcher. "I mistrust that fellow I saw
-creep out from here but a moment ago."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VIII.
-
-
-"This threatens danger," Bevill thought to himself after he had spoken
-to the man in the alley, and had received from him a surly grunt and
-the information that the other was, like himself, a traveller having
-his own horse in another stall. But the ostler did not add the words
-that Bevill had expected to hear--viz., that this traveller was, also
-like himself, a Frenchman. He remembered, however, a moment later,
-that though Sparmann was now undoubtedly a French spy, he was
-absolutely as much a Dutchman as any native of St. Trond, and could,
-consequently, pass easily as a man who was voyaging from one part of
-the Netherlands to another.
-
-In recollecting this, there came suddenly into his mind a thought--an
-inspiration--a reflection that, in such a circumstance lay the chance
-of outwitting, of silencing--though only for a time, yet perhaps for
-long enough--this fellow who, beyond almost all possibility of doubt,
-was here with the view of causing harm to him.
-
-"He is a Hollander," Bevill thought to himself as he stood outside the
-courtyard of "Le Prince d'Orange," while undecided as to whether he
-should endeavour to see, or at least to communicate with, the
-Comtesse. "A Hollander, yet one who is now in the service of France,
-and, consequently, an enemy to all things Dutch. If--if--I denounced
-him to-night to some of the burghers of this place, to some native
-magistrate here, as he will endeavour to denounce me to some of the
-French who hold the place, it will go hard with him. These Dutch may,
-because they must at present, tolerate the French army, but they will
-not tolerate a spy who is their own countryman amongst them. Yet how
-to do it? Above all, how to do it at once? Let me reflect."
-
-As he so reflected, however, he was already crossing the _place_, and
-in a moment was in front of the courtyard of "Le Duc de Brabant,"
-which, although it was similar to that of the inn where he had put up,
-was nevertheless considerably larger than the latter. Halting,
-however, under the archway that led into this yard, he saw the great
-coach of Madame de Valorme standing out in the dark, and observed
-that, from some of the lower windows of the inn, there still gleamed
-the rays of a lamp or other light, as well as the beams from a
-lanthorn hung on a hook outside the stable door. Thus the coach and
-the baggage on the top of it stood clearly out, thin and weakly though
-the rays of light might be, and by their aid he was able to perceive
-other things.
-
-He saw that Joseph, the coachman, on account of whose ill-treatment by
-the Brabant peasants that afternoon he had lodged a bullet in the
-shoulder of one of them, was now strapping up a valise on the roof of
-the coach; a valise that he divined easily had already been used this
-evening and repacked and closed, and then sent down to be put in its
-place in time for the morning's departure. Near the coachman, who now
-seemed to be entirely recovered from his slight injury--which had been
-only prevented by an inch from being a fatal one--there stood a
-_facchin_, or porter of the inn, who had evidently brought down the
-valise and was now going away to, in all probability, fetch another.
-
-"Joseph," Bevill said now to the man as he descended from the box on
-which he had been standing while strapping the valise, "Joseph, come
-down. I wish to speak to you on a matter of serious concern."
-
-Astonished at seeing beneath him the dashing horseman who, at a
-critical moment for all concerned, had suddenly appeared amongst the
-boors who had attacked his mistress's coach, and--which he did not
-overlook--nearly killed him, Joseph sprang to the ground, while
-doffing the hat he wore and instantly commencing a long series of
-thanks and utterances of gratitude to Bevill, all of which he had
-previously uttered many times during the continuation of the journey.
-
-"No matter for that," said Bevill, while looking round to see that
-they were out of earshot, and remarking that the _facchin_ had
-disappeared. "I need no more thanks, nor have needed any. But,
-Joseph--your mistress? Where is she? If it may be so, if it can be
-compassed, I must speak with her to-night."
-
-"To-night, monsieur? _Helas!_ it is impossible. She has retired; the
-necessaries are all distributed there," glancing up at the roof of the
-vehicle, "save one small chest that remains in the rooms for use in
-the morning. It is impossible, monsieur," he repeated. "But," the man
-went on, "if monsieur has anything to confide, if he requires any
-service which one so humble as I can give, monsieur knows where he can
-obtain it. Monsieur punished the ruffians who endeavoured to slay me.
-If one so poor as I can----"
-
-"Nay, no matter; yet--yet--it is of grave import. There has happened
-that which thrusts against my hopes of reaching Liege, of reaching
-that city in company of--almost, may I say, in charge of Madame----"
-
-"What, monsieur, what?" the man exclaimed in a low voice. "Monsieur is
-in some peril? And he, our preserver----"
-
-"Listen," Bevill` said, thinking it best to at once tell this man the
-worst. "It may be that ere morning I shall no longer be able to
-accompany Madame La Comtesse on her road."
-
-"Oh, monsieur!" Joseph exclaimed. "Oh, monsieur! Monsieur is indeed in
-some peril. What is it, monsieur?"
-
-"There is a man now staying at the inn where I am, at 'Le Prince
-d'Orange,' who knows a secret of mine which may undo me if divulged.
-He is a Dutchman, yet now he serves France--our country--as the basest
-of creatures. He is a spy, one employed by France. What's that?"
-Bevill broke off to say, hearing a slight noise in the stable close
-by.
-
-"I heard nothing, monsieur. Doubtless one of the horses moving. It is
-nothing. Please go on, monsieur."
-
-"Yet also is he, as I say, an enemy of mine. He may denounce me as one
-having sympathy with these Dutch, as one favourable to this Grand
-Alliance. Ha!" Bevill exclaimed, breaking off again. "Look! Did'st?
-see. That man who passed outside the entry but now, his cloak about
-him! One with dark, piercing eyes and a flash of grey beard showing.
-That is the man. I will follow him, prevent him, if possible, from
-carrying out his intentions to-night."
-
-"And so also will I, monsieur. Let me but get my coat and whinyard,
-and I will be with you. But an instant, monsieur. But an instant."
-
-"Nay," Bevill called, even as the man sped towards the great wooden
-staircase that led out of the courtyard up to the balconies outside
-the various floors; "nay, stay here, I command you. Stay here by your
-mistress to whom your service is due. I need no assistance. It is man
-to man, as," he muttered grimly through set teeth, "it was two years
-ago in England."
-
-Then, seeing that Joseph had disappeared up the stairs, Bevill went
-swiftly out of the courtyard and under the arch into the street.
-
-But he did not know that, as he did so, another man had followed in
-his footsteps.
-
-A man who, almost ere he was outside the entrance, had softly pushed
-open the stable door and then, after looking round stealthily to make
-sure that he was not observed, had come out himself, while thrusting
-into the folds of his coarse shirt something that gleamed for an
-instant in the rays of the lanthorn.
-
-"What was it he said?" this man muttered to himself in a hoarse,
-raucous voice. "What? I could not hear all--yet enough. A Dutchman!
-One of us--who has joined these accursed French as a spy on us. On
-us--_ach! Himmel!_ On us, his countrymen. Ha! Let me but find him, and
-he spies no more in this world."
-
-And now this man was also in the _place_--the deserted place in which
-glittered but one or two oil lamps hung on chains stretched across the
-road, yet which was well lighted now by a late risen moon that was in
-her third quarter--a moon that was topping now the pointed,
-crenellated roofs of the old houses and flooding the whole space with
-its beams. By this light the man saw that he was not yet too late.
-
-
-[Illustration: "'He's mine,' the watcher whispered to himself."]
-
-
-He saw the tall form of Bevill turning away from the door of "Le
-Prince d'Orange," and understood that the man, who had in his hearing
-denounced the other as a spy, had been to see if the latter had
-entered the inn. He saw, too, by looking up the one long street that
-led from the _place_, that the denouncer paused for a moment and then
-went swiftly along it. Seeing this, he understood, and himself
-followed swiftly, while now and again putting his hand in his breast
-as though to make sure of what was hidden there.
-
-"He is gone that way," he muttered, "and the other knows it. So, too,
-do I know it now. Between us we shall run the fox to ground."
-
-Thus they went on: the first man invisible to the last, but the second
-kept well in view by that last; then suddenly the latter paused.
-
-He paused, with a muttered imprecation; paused while withdrawing
-himself into the deep, dark stoop of an old house.
-
-"He has missed him! Missed him! He is coming back. The spy has
-escaped. Ah! ah! the chance is gone. If he has missed him how shall I
-ever find him?"
-
-A moment later this watcher started, while giving utterance to some
-sound that was, now, neither imprecation nor exclamation, but, in
-truth, a gasp. A gasp full of astonishment, nevertheless; a gasp that
-surprise seemed to have choked back into his throat.
-
-For he who was coming back was not the tall, handsomely apparelled
-young man who had started forth in pursuit of him whom he had
-denounced as a renegade spy; but, instead, another. An older man, one
-who held a dark cloak across his features from which some wisp of a
-grey beard projected; one who, as he came swiftly towards that stoop
-where the man was hidden, looked back and back, and back again, and
-glinted a pair of dark eyes up and down the street as though in mortal
-fear.
-
-"He's mine," the watcher whispered to himself. "He's mine. He will spy
-no more."
-
-As he so spoke, the man who was returning drew near the stoop, his
-footsteps fell outside it. He was before it!
-
-                       *    *    *    *    *    *
-
-"How did I miss him? What twist or turn did the vagabond take whereby
-to avoid me?" Bevill pondered the next morning, as now the soft,
-roseate hue of the sun suffused the skies that, half an hour before,
-had been daffodil and, before that, lit by the moon. For it was four
-o'clock now, and the daylight had dawned on one of the last remaining
-days of May.
-
-Four o'clock! And Bevill Bracton, after he had re-entered his room,
-disheartened at having missed Sparmann, had sat from midnight until
-now on a chair at a table by the window, while sternly refraining from
-lying down for fear that, thereby, he might fall asleep and so be
-trapped by some of the French soldiery whom the spy would possibly
-have put on his track.
-
-He had asked himself the above question a dozen, a score, a hundred
-times during these hours. He had muttered again and again, "How did I
-miss him? How lose sight of him?" yet was always unable to find an
-answer to the question.
-
-Also Bevill had asked himself another, a more important question
-which, not only in his own mind but in actual fact, remained
-unanswered. Why, since Sparmann had escaped him, had he not already
-been denounced? Why, through the night as it passed away, or in the
-cool coming of the dawn, had he heard no tread of provost's picket, or
-corporal's guard, coming down the street to the inn to arrest him? Yet
-his ancient enemy had but to warn them that here, in "Le Prince
-d'Orange," was an Englishman on whom would be found a Frenchman's
-passport, the passport of a secretary of the French Embassy in London,
-for his doom to be swift and sure. A hurried examination, a still more
-hurried trial, and--a platoon of soldiers! That was all.
-
-Yet nothing had come during those hours of the passing night. Nothing
-had disturbed the watcher and listener at that table by the window,
-nothing had caused him to even glance towards his unsheathed sword as
-it lay on the undisturbed bed, nothing to cause his hand to advance
-one inch towards the pistols placed on a chair by his side. A dog
-barking, some labourers going forth to their toil, the striking of the
-hours by the church clock; but nothing more. And now the day was come
-and he was still free and unsought for.
-
-"Even had I been sought for it may be that I might have escaped from
-out the town at break of day," Bevill mused now; "but what of her
-opposite? What of the woman who depends on me and my succour if
-needed--the woman who, knowing that I am no Frenchman and am, since
-all the world is against France or France's king, doubtless her enemy,
-does not betray me? Might have escaped? No! I could not have done
-that."
-
-"Why," he continued, still reflecting, "has that man held his peace?
-Does he doubt that he may be mistaken, that I am not his old enemy and
-victor; or does he fear that, as he might betray me to his new
-masters, so might I find opportunity to betray him to his old ones, to
-his countrymen? In truth, it may be so."
-
-The little town was waking up to the work of the day by this time.
-Windows were being thrown open to the rays of the bright morning sun.
-Away, outside the town, the bugles and trumpets of those who held the
-place in subjection could be heard, and, a moment later, Bevill saw
-Jeanne thrust aside the shutters of the rooms of the first floor of
-the "Duc de Brabant."
-
-"I had best make my way across," Bevill mused, as now he refreshed
-himself with some hearty ablutions and made the usual toilet of
-travellers of that day. "It seems that I am to be unmolested for the
-present. Therefore will I start at once, and the sooner the better!
-leaving word that, as near as may be, I will await the coach of Madame
-la Comtesse beyond the town."
-
-Thrusting, therefore, his sword into his belt, and his pistols into
-his deep pockets, he threw open the door of the room and went out into
-the passage. As he did so, however, he saw the sun streaming through
-the open door of another bedroom farther down, and heard voices
-proceeding from inside the room.
-
-"Not in all night!" he heard one voice say, while recognising it as
-that of the landlady. "Not in all night! And he a man of years! Surely
-he is not a wastrel and a roysterer? It may be so, since he says he is
-a Frenchman, though he has not the air thereof. Perhaps he has been
-carousing with their dissolute soldiery. Or--_ach!_--if he should have
-ridden off without payment. _Ach!_ 'tis like enough!"
-
-"His horse is in the stable," another voice, that of an ancient _femme
-de chamber_, replied. "He has not done that. Yet, all the same, 'tis
-strange. _Ja Wohl_, it is strange."
-
-"It must be _him_ of whom they speak," Bevill thought to himself, as
-now he passed the door, and, giving "good-day" to the women within the
-room, went down the stairs and out into the street, after which he
-crossed the _place_ to the "Duc de Brabant."
-
-The coach of the Comtesse de Valorme was as he had seen it last night.
-At present there was no sign of departure; the horses had not yet been
-brought from the stable, and none of madame's servants were about. In
-the courtyard, however, the stableman and _facchins_ were sluicing the
-whole place with buckets of water and brushing and mopping the stones,
-amongst them being the one who had brought down the valises to Joseph
-overnight.
-
-Calling this man towards him with the intention of asking him to bring
-Jeanne Or Joseph down for a moment, so that he might leave a message
-for the Comtesse, he observed that he had a huge bruise on his face,
-one that was almost raw, and bled slightly.
-
-"You have hurt yourself," Bevill said kindly to the fellow, after he
-had asked him to do his behest; and after, also, putting a piece of
-silver in his hand. "You would do well to put some styptic to your
-face."
-
-"'Tis nothing, mynheer, nothing," the man muttered, as he pocketed the
-silver. "The lights were out as I went to my bed last night. The
-passages in this old house are dark as a pocket. It is nothing. I fell
-and bruised myself." After which he went away to summon one of the
-servants of her whom he called "Matame la Gomdesse."
-
-A moment later Joseph appeared on the scene, and, ere Bevill could bid
-him inform Madame de Valorme that he thought it best to proceed past
-the barrier and out of the town at once, the coachman exclaimed:
-
-"And the enemy of monsieur? The spy! What of him?"
-
-"I lost him," Bevill replied. "He evaded me."
-
-"And evidently he has not betrayed monsieur?"
-
-"Evidently. It may be, Joseph, he supposed that in betraying me I
-might in return have betrayed him, if not to his new friends, at least
-to his old. Now, Joseph, I go. Present my respects to madame and say
-that a mile farther on the road to Liege I will await her coming."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IX.
-
-
-Month before Bevill Bracton had set out on the task of endeavouring in
-some way to assist Sylvia Thorne in quitting Liege, and, should
-Providence prove favourable, of enabling her to return to England
-under his charge, the whole of what was termed, comprehensively,
-Flanders was filled with various bodies of troops that were drawn from
-almost all the countries of Western and, consequently, civilised
-Europe.
-
-Used--as this great combination of various states had long been
-called--as "The Great Barrier"--_i.e_., the barrier between the
-aggressions of France and the safety of the Netherlands, it was,
-therefore, now filled with the above-named troops of the contending
-nations. To the most northern portion of it--from Antwerp on the west
-to Cologne on the east, and then downward to Kaiserswoerth and
-Bonn--the French held possession under the ostensible command of the
-royal Duke of Burgundy, but actually under the command of the Marechal
-de Boufflers, styled the second in command. With these were the troops
-of Spain under the command of Le Marquis de Bedmar. Other marshals and
-generals, such as Tallard (who was afterwards to lose the battle of
-Blenheim) and De Chamarande held high command under them.
-
-The English and Dutch troops, many of the former of which had never
-been withdrawn since the Peace of Ryswick, made during the reign of
-William III., still held and garrisoned the more northern portions of
-the Flanders barrier. Of these, the principal commanders were, until
-Marlborough was appointed by the English and Dutch Governments
-Captain-General of the whole army of the Grand Alliance, Ginkell, Earl
-of Athlone, who was a Dutchman, and Coehoorn, who was another. Of
-towns and villages and outposts which the allied troops held at this
-time, Maestricht, a few miles north of Liege, was the principal; but
-rapidly, after the arrival of the Earl of Marlborough, many more were,
-one after the other, to fall into our hands.
-
-By the time, however, that Bevill Bracton had reached Flanders, not
-only were continuous sieges and encounters taking place, but also
-continuous marchings and counter-marchings and deployings of troops.
-The ground which one week had been occupied and held by the French
-would, the next, be occupied by English or Dutch, Austrian or
-Hanoverian troops; Austria, which was the rival claimant to the throne
-of Spain, being the only Catholic country in the Alliance. Had her
-claims not been recognised and used as the pivot on which revolved the
-determination of the other Powers to break down, once and for all, the
-arrogant assumption of the King of France, she would never have been
-admitted as partner in this great alliance of Protestant princes. She
-was, however, the foundation stone of the great fabric, and could not
-be omitted.
-
-The land, therefore, which formed part of the eastern portion of
-Brabant, as well as the whole of Limburg, the Electorate of Cologne,
-and the Bishopric of Liege, was at this time the scene of skirmishes,
-of attacks, and general hostilities that occurred almost daily; but,
-since these never attained to the dignity of a battle, they have gone
-unrecorded even in the most dry-as-dust of military annals. Indeed,
-they were frequently bloodless and often unimportant, the occasional
-hanging of a spy, or supposed spy, on one side or the other, or the
-detention of a person who could give no satisfactory account of
-himself, being unworthy of notice by any chronicler, even if any
-chronicler ever heard of the incidents--which is probably doubtful.
-
-
-Almost directly St. Trond was quitted, the great Cologne road parted,
-as it still parts; the northern arm passing through Looz to Maestricht
-and the southern running straight to Liege by Waremme, only to reunite
-later out side Liege.
-
-At this bifurcation Bevill Bracton, drawing up his horse, paused
-beneath some trees and determined to await the coming of the Comtesse
-de Valorme.
-
-It was still quite early, and, since he had been subjected to no delay
-at the gate, his passport having merely been glanced at by the soldier
-stationed there (perhaps because of the excellent French he spoke,
-which was a great deal better than that of the man, who belonged to
-the Regiment de Perche from the far south of France) he knew that
-there was no likelihood of the Comtesse appearing yet. Therefore he
-rode on a few hundred paces farther towards where he had observed a
-signboard swinging from the branch of a tree, and decided that he
-would wait here for her arrival. Also, he had not yet broken his fast,
-and determined that now would be a good opportunity for doing so.
-
-As he came within twenty or thirty yards of the signboard, which bore
-a heart painted on it--the emblem resembling more a heart painted on a
-card than that which is a portion of the human frame--and had beneath
-it, in Dutch, the words, "The Kindly Heart," he was astonished at
-hearing a voice call out "Halt!" Yet he was not so astonished at
-hearing the word, which is very similar in most languages, as in
-hearing the voice that uttered that word, since, undoubtedly, it was
-the voice of an Englishman.
-
-Turning in the direction whence the sound came, Bevill did not see any
-person whatever. But what he did see was the short, squat, unbrowned
-barrel of a musquetoon projecting through the interstices of a
-quickset hedge and covering him. A moment later the voice of the
-invisible owner of it repeated:
-
-"Halt, will you, or shall I put a plum into you?"
-
-In absolute fact, Bevill had halted at the first injunction; but, on
-hearing the above words delivered in a most unmistakably English tone
-of voice, he said:
-
-"My friend, you will pay me no such compliment as that. Since we
-happen to be countrymen----"
-
-"Countrymen!" the voice exclaimed now. "And so I think, in truth, we
-must be. Yet, countryman, are you mad? Have you escaped out of some
-Dutch Bedlam to be roaming about here alone?"
-
-"No more mad than you who cry out to one who may be a Frenchman to
-halt. Come out of that hedge and let me see you. What regiment are you
-of?"
-
-"What regiment? The Tangier Horse--the Royal Dragoons, as we are now
-called.[3] What matters the name so long as the fruit is good!" the
-speaker said, as now he came out of a little wicket gate in the hedge
-and advanced toward where Bevill sat his horse. As he did so, however,
-he still held his musquetoon in such a manner that he could have fired
-its charge into the other's body at any instant.
-
-"What are you doing here?" the latter asked, while recognising by the
-man's accoutrements and banderole that he was undoubtedly that which
-he stated himself to be. "Is," he continued, "your regiment near here?
-Or any portion of our army? If not, you must be mad to betray yourself
-to one who might belong to the present controllers of all this
-neighbourhood."
-
-"That," the trooper replied respectfully, since he saw that he had a
-gentleman to deal with, and one who, though he wore no signs of being
-an officer, might very well be one, "you had best ask my captain and
-the lieutenant. They are breaking their fast in the inn."
-
-"Your captain and lieutenant? Great heavens! Almost might I ask if
-they too, if all of you, are demented. Here, in this place, surrounded
-on all sides, garrisoned everywhere, by the enemy!"
-
-"They are as like, sir, to go harmless as you. And we have a picket
-near. The enemy cannot get near us without our being warned in time to
-escape. We are spying out the land."
-
-"Lead me to the officers," Bevill said.
-
-Upon which the trooper motioned to him to dismount and leave his horse
-and follow him through the little orchard, out of which he had
-descended to the road. "They are," he said, "at the back of the
-house." While, as he did so, he repeated himself and said, "We are
-spying out the land, but wish no one to spy on us."
-
-A burst of low, suppressed laughter reached Bevill's ears as now,
-after tying La Rose's reins to a stake in the quickset hedge, he drew
-near to the spot where the man had said the officers were. A burst of
-laughter, suddenly hushed by one who formed the group, as he said,
-"Silence! Silence! Here comes some stranger. If 'tis a Frenchman by
-chance----"
-
-
-[Illustration: "'He is no Frenchman,' Bevill answered for himself."]
-
-
-"He will not be a Frenchman or any other man long, unless he is of
-us."
-
-"He is no Frenchman," Bevill answered for himself as he reached the
-grass plot, on which several officers sat round a table, and while
-taking off his hat in salutation as he did so; "but, instead, an
-Englishman. One who was once an officer of cavalry like yourselves,
-and hopes to be one again ere long."
-
-"One who was an officer and hopes to be one again! One who _was!_ Pray
-sir, of what regiment?" the older of the group asked.
-
-"Of the Cuirassiers. By name, Bevill Bracton."
-
-"Bevill Bracton? You are Bevill Bracton? The man who trounced that
-insolent Dutchman for traducing our calling? The man who was broken
-for doing so?" And the speaker held out his hand.
-
-"The same. Yet one who is not yet quit of him. He is now a spy in the
-pay of the French, and at Antwerp he almost betrayed me, and so again
-last night at St. Trond."
-
-"And this time you killed him?"
-
-"No. He disappeared. Something doubtless befell him--though not at my
-hands--since I passed safely out of the town half an hour ago."
-
-After which, since Bevill's exploit of nearly killing Sparmann for his
-insolence more than two years ago had brought him into considerable
-notoriety (of an enviable character) with the whole of the army, while
-the harshness of the unpopular William of Orange in removing him from
-it had been very adversely commented on, these men, thrown so
-curiously together, began to discuss their affairs.
-
-"Yet," said Bevill, as they commenced to "I pray you let your corporal
-keep watch and ward over the road leading from St. Trond past here.
-From out of the town will come ere long a travelling coach containing
-a lady and her servants----"
-
-"What? Are English ladies travelling here, too, at such a time as
-this? And have you become a squire of dames? Pray, who can the daring
-lady be?"
-
-"The lady is not English!"
-
-"Oh. I protest! Surely, much as we are grappled to these good
-Hollanders, there is no need for a British officer, as you have been
-and will be again, to become a knight errant to their comely
-womankind."
-
-"Nay. To be brief, the lady is a Frenchwoman. Ah! I beseech you,"
-Bevill continued, "do not misunderstand me."
-
-"'Tis very strange!"
-
-"'Tis very simple. Listen, gentlemen. I go to help a young lady, a
-ward of my Lord Peterborough's----"
-
-"What! A ward of Mordanto's!" the captain exclaimed, with a laugh.
-"The knight-errant _par excellence!_"
-
-"The very same. He is my cousin--or, rather, I should say in all
-respect that I am his. I go to help this young lady to leave Liege in
-safety, and to escort her first to the English lines, and afterwards,
-if I can compass it, to England."
-
-"She must be the only English lady there now. For very sure, if you
-get into Liege you will also be the only Englishman in it."
-
-"It may be so--for a time. Yet, for certain, Liege must fall to us ere
-long. It is a place to be possessed of."
-
-"But the Frenchwoman!" one of the younger officers exclaimed. "The
-Frenchwoman?"
-
-"She is a wayside companion--one whom I came to know at an inn we both
-sojourned at. A widow, grave, serious, and withal somewhat young. A
-serious-minded woman. Some slight assistance I rendered her on the
-road 'twixt Louvain and that place," nodding towards St. Trond, "and
-since then I ride as her escort. Yet, in solemn truth, my mind is
-teased; for, French though she is beyond all doubt, and deemed me to
-be the same at first----"
-
-"At first! And now?"
-
-"Now she has discovered by some tone or trick of accent--I having the
-French well enough in ordinary since my father, Sir George Bracton,
-dwelt in Paris, and I was brought up and schooled there--that I am
-none. Yet, it may be, she knows not that I am English; but still--but
-still she has asked me if I know of the movements of my lords Athlone
-and Marlborough. If I can tell her when our army will draw near to
-Liege, when it will come, where it is now----"
-
-"Tell her nothing," the captain said decisively. "She is a spy."
-
-"No; she is no spy, I will be sworn. The cunning of spies harbours not
-behind such clear eyes or so honest a face as hers. If she is aught
-she should not be, and still I almost reproach myself for dreaming of
-such a thing, she is a woman who by some injustice, some wickedness
-done to her, is false to her own country, to France. Listen,
-gentlemen. This woman, the Comtesse de Valorme, desires one thing
-above all."
-
-"What is it!" everyone of the dragoons asked in the same breath.
-
-"To be brought to Marlborough or Athlone as soon as may be. How, then,
-shall she be a spy on us?"
-
-"Upon a pretext to see one of these generals, upon seeing them, she
-might discover much," the lieutenant said; "yet she is but a sorry
-fool if she dreams of speaking with either of them or learning aught.
-Bah! Athlone--Ginkell--would offer her a glass of his native schnapps,
-bow before her with heavy, stolid grace, call her, 'Zhere Matam la
-Gondesse,' and tell her nothing. While as for my Lord Marlborough----"
-
-"Ay, my Lord Marlborough!" Bevill said. "Marlborough!"
-
-"He would receive her with infinite grace. Doubtless, he would kiss
-her hand with the most engaging look on his handsome face. Also, he
-would let her think that he esteemed himself well fortuned in being
-able to place himself and all the army at her disposal, and--he also
-would do nothing. A man with the sweetest disposition in all the
-world, one bred a courtier from his youth, one who has been a French
-soldier himself, who knows France as other Englishmen know their
-native hamlet, will not be hoodwinked by any scheming Frenchwoman."
-
-"She is no schemer, or, if she is, it is against her own land," Bevill
-exclaimed. "Oh! if I knew, if I could divine what reason there may be
-for any French, in such times as these, to look to the English for
-help and support! Gentlemen, you have been long on this foreign
-service. Have you heard no word? Can any French, any portion of
-France, be hoping for help from us against their own selves?"
-
-But the officers could tell him nothing. They had, indeed, been abroad
-some time, but that time had been passed only in the Netherlands. They
-did not know--it was impossible they should know--that far away in the
-South, whose shores and golden sands were laved by the soft waters of
-the Mediterranean, things were being done that were turning honest,
-faithful subjects into rebels. They did not know that homes were being
-rendered desolate, children made orphans, and parents childless; that
-the nobles were escaping, where possible, to other lands; that the
-working classes were being succoured in Clerkenwell and Spitalfields,
-beneath the Swiss snows and on the burning shores of Africa.
-Therefore, they could neither think nor dream of what might be the
-cause--if there were any such!--which could make this woman of the
-French aristocracy false to France.
-
-But now the trooper came back to where they sat with Bevill, and
-stated that a great travelling coach was coming slowly along, it
-having evidently issued from out St. Trond, which lay round a bend of
-the road. Upon which Bevill, wishing them a hasty farewell and
-exchanging swift handshakes with them, mounted La Rose.
-
-"God speed!" they all cried out to him. "God speed" and "_Fortune de
-la guerre!_" while the youngest exclaimed, in boyish enthusiasm, "If
-you creep into Liege and cannot find your way forth again, keep ever a
-brave heart. We shall be near; we, or some of us, will have you out."
-
-"And, 'ware _les beaux yeux_ of Madame la Comtesse," the captain
-called.
-
-"And those of the ward of my Lord Peterborough," said the lieutenant.
-
-"'There is more danger,'" cried the youngest, misquoting, "'in one
-look of theirs than twenty of our foemen's swords,' as Betterton says
-as Romeo."
-
-
-"So, monsieur le Mousquetaire--_monsieur mon cousin_, Le Blond," the
-Comtesse with emphasis said, as now Bevill rode back to the carriage
-and took up his usual position by the window, "you can speak English
-when you desire."
-
-"Yes, madame, when I desire. I hope the sound of that tongue is not
-offensive to madame."
-
-"An Englishman," the Comtesse replied, her calm, clear eyes upon him,
-"should ever speak the tongue he loves best--even as a valiant knight
-is ever knightly, no matter what his land may be."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER X.
-
-
-Liege was before them. From a slight eminence in this land, in most
-cases so utterly without eminence at all, they could look onward and
-see its walls, especially those on the left bank of the Meuse. Also,
-they could see upon what they saw was the citadel a great banner
-streaming out to the soft south-west wind--a banner on which was
-emblazoned the gold sun that was the emblem of him who gloried in the
-name of "Le Roi Soleil." So, too, on the right side there floated out
-that ostentatious, braggart flag from the roof of the Chartreuse.
-
-Lying outside the city, as they were easily able to observe from the
-eminence on which they had halted, were several regiments, their
-colours displayed from the larger tents amongst the lines; and some of
-these Bevill Bracton was able to recognise, since he had seen them
-before, when in Holland and Flanders under William III.
-
-"Those," he exclaimed, pointing towards a large blue banner that
-streamed out above a great tent--a blue banner on which was a heraldic
-emblazonment that, had they been nearer, they would have recognised as
-a leopard _couchant_, "are the arms of a fierce, cruel general. The
-pennon to the right is that of the cavalry of Orleans; that to the
-left is the pennon of the dragoons of Piemont-Royal. We have met--I
-should say I have seen them--before."
-
-Remembering, however, that much as the Comtesse might suspect or,
-indeed, actually know with regard to his being neither Frenchman nor
-mousquetaire, she did not know all, Bevill refrained from adding, "I
-have charged them in the past, and should know their colours."
-
-"And this general you speak of--this man who is fierce and cruel? Who
-is he?"
-
-"Montrevel," Bevill replied.
-
-As he did so he heard the Comtesse give a slight gasp, or, if it were
-so slight as to be unheard, at least he saw her lips part, while into
-her eyes there came a strange look, one that expressed half fear and
-half hate.
-
-"Madame knows him?" he exclaimed.
-
-"I know of him. He is, as monsieur says, fierce and cruel. He--he
-comes from a part of France I know very well--from Orange. And, worse
-than all, he is a--a--renegade."
-
-"A renegade? He! One of Louis' most trusted leaders! He who has
-received the _baton_ of a Field-Marshal but recently! He a renegade?"
-
-"One may be a renegade to others than king and country. To----"
-
-"Yes! To what? To whom?"
-
-"To God!"
-
-After which the Comtesse seemed undesirous of saying more and sat
-gazing down towards the army lying outside the walls of Liege, while
-occasionally asking Bevill if he could tell her what other persons or
-regiments were represented by the various colours flying from tents
-and staffs.
-
-But he, while doing his best to explain all that she had desired to
-know, and while pointing out to her the regiments of Poitou and Royal
-Roussillon--both of which he had also encountered--recognised that his
-mind was far away from a subject that, in other circumstances, would
-have occupied it to its fullest extent.
-
-For now he could not keep his attention fixed on banners and bannerols
-and regiments, deep as might be the import they must bear towards
-England and his own safety. He could not even reflect upon how he, an
-Englishman passing as a Frenchman, would in the next hour or so have
-to make his way through the lines of those regiments while every word
-he uttered might betray him to sudden death. Sudden death! as must,
-indeed, be his only portion if, among those masses of troops below,
-one word mispronounced, one accent to arouse suspicion, should be
-observed. Sudden death! Yes, after a moment's interview with one of
-the generals or marshals--such a marshal, to wit, as the fierce cruel
-Montrevel! Sudden death after another moment, and that but a short
-one, allowed for a hasty prayer.
-
-And still he could not force his mind to think upon these things,
-since those words of the Comtesse de Valorme had driven all other
-thoughts away.
-
-"Why?" he asked himself again and again as he sat his horse by her
-side. "Why does she speak thus of that truculent soldier? Why, among
-so many other matters that must have possession of her thoughts now,
-does this man's apostasy, for such it must be that she refers to,
-affect her so deeply. Ah! if I could but know!" And, as he thought
-thus, he let his eyes fall on those of the comtesse, and saw that hers
-were resting on him.
-
-Suddenly, as he did this, he saw in them something that seemed almost
-as clear and distinct as spoken words would themselves have been; some
-pleading in them which, unlike spoken words, he could not understand,
-while still recognising that in her look there was a request. But yet
-he could not understand. He could not comprehend what it was that she
-desired of him, and so held his peace.
-
-Now, however, the Comtesse spoke. She spoke as she leant forward, in
-the same way she had done before since they had first travelled in
-company, her gloved hand on the sash of the lowered window, her glance
-full of earnestness.
-
-"We are close to Liege, monsieur," she said. "Little more than an hour
-will take us to the lines of that army lying outside the city. In two
-hours, by Heaven's grace, we may be inside. Monsieur, shall we not be
-frank with each other?"
-
-"Frank, madame. How so? How frank?"
-
-"Ah, monsieur, do not let us trifle further. Each of us has an object
-in entering that city. Yours I can partly divine, as I think; but mine
-I doubt your ever divining. Yet--yet--I know what you are, and I would
-that you should know who and what I am. If--if it pleases you, can we
-not confide in each other?"
-
-Bevill bowed over his horse's mane as the Comtesse said these words;
-then, in a low tone, he replied:
-
-"Any confidence madame may honour me with shall be deeply respected.
-Meanwhile, I have perceived that madame knows or suspects that I am
-not what I seem to be. So be it. I am in her hands and I do not fear.
-Let her tell me what she believes me to be and, if she has judged
-aright, I will answer truly. A frank admission can harm me no more
-than suspicion can do."
-
-"I shall not harm you," the Comtesse said. "I have not forgotten your
-succour when those boors had attacked me." Then, glancing round to
-observe whether the servants were out of earshot, as was, indeed, the
-case, since they had gone some little distance ahead of the coach the
-better to gaze upon the troops environing the city, as well as on the
-city itself, she said:
-
-"You are, as I have said, an Englishman."
-
-"Yes," Bevill replied calmly, fearing nothing from this avowal which,
-made to any other French subject, would have been fraught with
-destruction to him. "I am an Englishman."
-
-
-[Illustration: "Liege was before them."--_p_. 363.]
-
-
-"A soldier, doubtless, endeavouring to make his way to his own
-forces."
-
-"No; I am no soldier--now. I have been one. But my mission is far
-different from that. I go, if it may be so, to escort a young
-countrywoman of mine out of Liege, and to take her back in safety to
-England."
-
-"Alas! you will never succeed. That she may be permitted to leave
-Liege is possible, though by no means probable. Those in the city who
-are not French will scarcely obtain permission to depart, since they
-would be able to convey far too much intelligence to the enemy of what
-prevails within. While as for you----"
-
-"Yes, madame?" Bevill said, still speaking quite calmly.
-
-"You may very well stay in Liege unharmed since no Walloon would
-betray you to his conquerors, and the French troops are in the
-citadel, the Chartreuse, at the gates, and elsewhere. But you will
-never get out with your charge."
-
-"Not as a Frenchman?"
-
-"No. Not with an Englishwoman. That is, unless she can transform
-herself into a Frenchwoman as easily as you have transformed yourself
-into a Frenchman."
-
-"Yet you have discovered me to be none."
-
-"I discovered you by some of your expressions, the turn of your
-phrases, simply because--and this may astonish you--your French was
-too good. You used some phrases that were those of a scholar and not
-the idiom of daily life. It is often so." Then, with almost a smile on
-the face that was generally so preternaturally grave, the Comtesse de
-Valorme said:
-
-"Captain Le Blond, as you call yourself, would you discover that I am
-a Frenchwoman?"
-
-And to Bevill's astonishment she spoke these words in perfect
-English--so perfect, indeed, that they might have issued from the lips
-of one of his own countrywomen.
-
-"Heavens!" he exclaimed, forgetting for the moment the perfect
-courtesy and deference which had marked his manner to her from the
-first. "What are you? Speak. Are you English or French? Yet, no," he
-continued. "No. There is the faintest intonation, though it has to be
-sought for; the faintest suspicion of an accent that betrays you.
-Madame," he exclaimed, not rudely, but only in a tone born of extreme
-surprise, "what are you--English or French?"
-
-"French," she replied, while still speaking in perfect English; "but I
-have lived much in England, and--it may be that I shall die there."
-
-"I cannot understand."
-
-"You shall not be left long without doing so. Monsieur, as I must
-still address you, it is more than twenty years since I first went to
-England with my father, though I have returned to France more than
-once during those years. Now I have returned yet again. And--you have
-confided in me; I will be equally frank with you--listen. I am a
-Protestant."
-
-"A Protestant!" Bevill exclaimed. "A Protestant? Ah! I begin to
-understand. A Protestant opposed to this war; linked with us against
-Spain and France; desirous of seeing these two great Catholic Powers
-subdued----"
-
-"Alas!" the Comtesse said, "I cannot claim so noble an excuse for
-being here in the midst of this war. My presence here is more selfish,
-more personal. I--I--have suffered. God, He knows, how all of mine
-have suffered in the South----"
-
-"You are from the South?"
-
-"I am. From Tarascon. You saw me start when you spoke of that
-unutterable villain, Montrevel. Montrevel," she repeated, with bitter
-scorn; "Field-marshal and swashbuckler! Montrevel, born a Protestant,
-but now of the Romish faith. A man who has persecuted us cruelly--one
-who even now desires to be sent to the Cevennes to persecute us still
-further."
-
-Then, suddenly, the Comtesse ceased what she was saying, and, changing
-from the subject, exclaimed:
-
-"But come--come. We have tarried here too long. We should be once more
-on our road to Liege. How do you propose to present yourself at the
-gates and gain admission to the city? You will run deep risks if you
-appear under the guise of a mousquetaire; for"--and now she took out a
-scroll of paper from the huge pocket let into the leather padding of
-her coach and looked at it, "there are two troops of the Mousquetaires
-Noirs at the Chartreuse."
-
-"You know that? You have a paper of the disposition of the French
-forces?"
-
-"I have, though with no view of betraying them to--the Allies. My
-disloyalty to my country is not so deep as that, nor even is it to the
-King who persecutes my people so evilly. Nevertheless, there are many
-of the Reformed Faith in these armies. There is a De la Tremouille,
-though he is but a lad, in the bodyguard of the Duc de Bourgogne; a De
-Rohan with Tallard; a De Sully in the Mousquetaires Noirs; also there
-are many others. I have means of learning much, though not all that I
-would know. These 'heretics,'" she continued bitterly, "may help me if
-trouble comes and I require help. Meanwhile, for yourself. You will
-never obtain entrance as a mousquetaire."
-
-"I have another passport--one procured for me by a grand personage in
-England. With that I entered Antwerp, using only the papers of Captain
-le Blond after I had been recognised by an ancient enemy."
-
-"Under what guise, what description, do you appear in that?"
-
-"A secretary of the French Embassy in London--the embassy that now
-exists no longer."
-
-The Comtesse de Valorme pondered for a few moments over this
-information, while, as she did so, there came two little lines on her
-white forehead, a forehead on which, as yet, Time had not implanted
-any lines of its own. Then she said:
-
-"And what name do you bear on that?"
-
-"Andre de Belleville."
-
-Again she pondered for a moment, then said:
-
-"It should suffice. It is by no chance likely that any of the
-secretaries from that embassy, now closed, should come here, or be
-here. Also, those at the walls cannot doubt me. It would be best you
-enter as a kinsman riding by my side as escort, as protector; for such
-you have been to me. And we are kin in one thing at least--our faith."
-
-"Madame, I am most deeply grateful to you. If----"
-
-"Nay; gratitude is due from me to you. Yet what was it you said but
-now? That you had an ancient enemy who recognised you at Antwerp. If
-so, may he not follow you here?"
-
-"I think not. At St. Trond he appeared again, only to again disappear.
-Some evil may have befallen him, though not at my hands. He would have
-denounced me by daybreak had that not happened."
-
-"So be it then. Let us go forward. Once in Liege you will doubtless be
-safe. If 'tis not so, then you must rely on Heaven, which has watched
-over you so far, to do so still. Where have you dreamt of sojourning
-when you are there? At the house where dwells this lady you go to seek
-and help?"
-
-"Nay; that cannot be. I have never seen her since she was a child. Her
-father is dead. I know not in what part of the city she dwells. I must
-seek some inn----"
-
-"No, no. I have kinsmen and kinswomen there of your faith. Their
-houses shall be--nay, will be, freely at your service. Speak but the
-word and it shall be so."
-
-For a moment Bevill Bracton pondered over this gracious offer, while,
-even as he did so, he raised the gloved hand of the Comtesse to his
-lips and murmured words of thanks for her politeness. But after a
-moment's reflection he decided not to accept this offer.
-
-He recognised at once that he ought not to do so; that the acceptance
-of that offer would be unwise. For he knew, or, at least, he had a
-presentiment, that from the moment he reached Sylvia Thorne his duty
-must be dangerous; that what he had promised the Lord Peterborough--
-ay! and also promised to do at all cost, all risk--might put him in
-peril of his life. He had known this ere he set out from England; he
-knew it doubly now. The French were all about and everywhere. Even
-during the next hour or so he would have to pass through a portion of
-that army to enter the city that lay before them. The difficulty of
-leaving it would be increased twofold--tenfold, when he had with him
-for charge a young girl, a young woman, who was also an English
-subject.
-
-"Therefore," he mused, or rather decided quickly, while still the
-Comtesse de Valorme awaited his answer, "I must be unhampered; above
-all, untrammelled in my movements. God alone knows with what dangers,
-what difficulties, it may please Him to environ me; but be that as it
-may, I must at all hazards be free and at liberty to either face or
-avoid them. Courtesy, that courtesy as much due from guest to host as
-from host to guest, could not be freely testified in such
-circumstances as these. The quality of guest would not be fairly
-enacted by me. I should be but a sorry inhabitant of any man's house!"
-
-Therefore, in very courteous phrases, conveying many thanks, he spoke
-these thoughts aloud to the Comtesse, while begging that the rejection
-of her offer might not be taken ill by her.
-
-"It must be as you say," the lady said; "yet--yet--we must not drift
-from out each other's knowledge. Remember, I shall still be able to
-help and assist you; also I look forward still to your guidance and
-succour. You will not forget? It is imperative for me, if Heaven
-permits, to obtain audience of the Earl of Marlborough when he draws
-near, or, failing him, that of other of his generals. It is to England
-alone that we poor Protestants can look for succour."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XI.
-
-
-An hour later they had passed through the lines of circumvallation
-thrown up by the French around Liege to prevent any attack from the
-Allies; and through the earthworks bristling with cannon and culverin.
-Also they had, since they were now arrived here, passed the first
-inspection to which they must submit and the only one to which they
-would be submitted until they were at the gates of the city itself.
-
-As the carriage of the Comtesse de Valorme had approached the opening
-left in those earthworks, the coachman being guided to it by a track
-which ran between innumerable grenades piled up in triangular heaps
-and numbers of tethered chargers as well as various other signs of
-preparation to resist attack, Bevill, looking down at his companion,
-saw that she was very white, and that her face, usually so calm and
-impassive, gave signs of much internal agitation.
-
-"You do not fear, madame?" he asked, more with a view to calming her
-if necessary than, as a question.
-
-"No," she replied, "I do not fear. My days for fear, for personal
-fear, are passed. I have suffered enough. But I am in dread for you."
-
-"Dread nothing on my behalf, I beseech you," Bevill said. "I have a
-presentiment that that which I seek to do will be accomplished."
-
-"I pray that it may be so. Yet--yet--I bear a name that stands not
-well in the eyes of Louis, and worse, doubly worse, in the eyes of the
-woman who rules him--the woman, De Maintenon. If the name of Valorme
-is known here to any in command--the name of Valorme, the heretic, the
-_reformee_, the _affectee_," she repeated bitterly, "it may go hard
-with us. I should not have bidden you to pass under the garb of a
-kinsman of mine. It would be best for you not to do so----"
-
-But it was too late. Ere the Comtesse could finish the sentence, from
-behind a number of superb horses tethered together there rang out the
-words, "Halt, there!" and a moment later three officers and a trooper
-came forward, all of whose splendid dress showed that they were of the
-Mousquetaires Noirs.[4] Their blue riding coats were covered with gold
-and silver lace; on their breasts were crosses of silver emitting
-flames of gold, above each of which were stamped the _fleur-de-lis_;
-while the whole was passemented with more lace. Near where the horses
-stood, the banner of their regiment blew out to the warm afternoon
-breeze; close by waved also the guidon of the Mousquetaires, with its
-romantic legend, or motto, on it, "Mon Dieu, mon Roi, ma Dame."
-
-"It is an officer's guard," Bevill murmured to the Comtesse.
-
-"And of the Mousquetaires," she whispered back. "'Tis very well you
-are not Captain le Blond any longer."
-
-Seeing that a lady was seated in the great coach, one of the
-mousquetaires advanced, hat in hand, towards the window, while
-apologising profusely to Bevill for causing him to back his horse so
-that he might speak to his companion. Then, in a tone as courtly as
-though he and the Comtesse stood in the salons of Versailles, he said:
-
-"Madame voyages in troublous times. Yet, alas! 'tis war time. As
-officer of the exterior guard may I venture to ask for the papers of
-madame?"
-
-Out of his politeness and innate good-breeding the mousquetaire but
-glanced at the papers handed to him, while muttering "La Comtesse de
-Valorme"; then, with a bow, he returned them to their owner, saying,
-"Madame is at liberty to pass. I regret to have been forced to cause
-her trouble," after which, turning politely to Bevill, he now asked
-for his papers.
-
-"_La! la!!_" he said, "Monsieur is from our embassy in London," while
-adding, with a smile, "Monsieur may meet with some of the English ere
-long again. They gather fast. We shall hope soon to give them a
-courteous reception."
-
-"Without doubt, monsieur."
-
-"Were monsieur and his brother officials well treated in London?"
-
-"He has nothing to complain of, monsieur. Every facility was given for
-leaving England peaceably."
-
-"I rejoice to hear it. Madame la Comtesse, I salute you," again
-standing bareheaded before the lady. "Monsieur, I am your servitor.
-_En route_," to Joseph on the box; but suddenly he said, "Yet stay an
-instant. Jacques, _mon camarade_," to the trooper close by (the
-troopers of the Mousquetaires were all gentlemen and often noblemen,
-having servants to attend to their horses and accoutrements),
-"accompany the carriage to the city walls."
-
-"Yes, Monsieur le Duc," the man answered, saluting.
-
-"Thereby," the former continued, "shall madame's way be made easier
-for her. The ground is a little encumbered," he said, turning to the
-Comtesse.
-
-After which, and when more politenesses had been exchanged, the coach
-proceeded on its way towards the city.
-
-A few moments later Madame de Valorme spoke to the trooper who had
-vaulted on to a horse on receiving his officer's orders, and was now
-riding on the other side of the carriage from that on which Bevill
-rode, and asked:
-
-"Who is that officer who was so gallant to me? He is a very perfect
-gentleman."
-
-"He is, madame, the Duc de Guise."
-
-"Ah!" she repeated, "the Duc de Guise!" while Bevill, who had glanced
-into the carriage as she asked the question, saw that her face was
-clouded as though by a sudden pain.
-
-Still a few moments more and the trooper had moved his horse to the
-front of those that were drawing the carriage, evidently with the
-intention of piloting Joseph through the enormous mass of arms and
-weapons of all kinds, gun carriages, and other materials of war with
-which the track through the camp was encumbered. So that, seeing they
-were free from being overheard by the man, Bevill said:
-
-
-[Illustration: "'Madame is at liberty to pass."]
-
-
-"That name caused madame some unpleasant thoughts. It is a great one,
-though not now prominent."
-
-"It is the name of the greatest persecutors we have ever known. The
-bearer of it is the descendant of those who splashed the walls of
-Paris and dyed the waters of the Seine with our ancestors' blood. Can
-I--I--do aught but shudder at learning it, at being beholden to a de
-Guise for courtesy?"
-
-"Those days are passed----"
-
-"Passed Are they passed? Does not their memory linger even now. Is not
-the reflex of their wicked deeds cast on these present days? Oh, sir,
-you do not know, you cannot know what is doing even now in France, in
-the South. Ah, God! it seems to me as though the fact of this man,
-this inheritor of all the wickedness and cruelty of his forerunners,
-having been the first I encounter here, is an omen that I shall never
-succeed in the task I have set myself."
-
-"Madame, think not so, I implore you. The Ducs de Guise are harmless
-now. Their power is gone, their teeth are broken. The ancient nobility
-can do nothing against the people without the King's command. He
-rules, directs all."
-
-"Therein is the fear, the danger. Under that woman--faugh!--De
-Maintenon, he does indeed rule and direct all, but he directs all for
-cruelty. Who has filled the prisons, the galleys--ah! the galleys,"
-the Comtesse repeated with an exclamation of such pain that Bevill
-wondered if, in any of those hideous receptacles of suffering and
-misery in which countless Protestants were now suffering, there might
-be, in their midst, some person or persons dear to her. "Who has
-filled those, who has strung thousands of innocent men and women upon
-the gallows, to the lamps of their own villages, on the trees of their
-own orchards, but Louis the King and those, his nobles, under him? Ah!
-ah!" she went on, "do you know what, in the old days, far, far off,
-long before they slaughtered us on St. Bartholomew's eve, the motto of
-the Guises was? It was one word only--'Kill.' And killing is in their
-blood. It cannot be eradicated; it is there. Is it strange that, in
-encountering this man. I fear? I who go to save. I who pray nightly,
-hourly, that my mission may help to save, to prevent, further
-slaughter?" And, as the Comtesse de Valorme finished speaking, she
-threw herself back upon the cushions of her carriage and buried her
-face in her hands.
-
-"I pray God, madame," Bevill said, he being deeply moved at her words,
-"that the mission you are upon may bear good fruit. It is partly for
-that, also, that we, the English, are banded against France and Spain.
-Perhaps it may be that we desire not more to lower the pride, to break
-down the power of this King, than to prevent those whom he rules over
-from cruelly persecuting those of our faith."
-
-Now, however, this discourse between them had to cease. They were at
-the gates of Liege, outside the suburb of St. Walburg, which, although
-not the nearest point of admission, was the one to which those who
-were permitted to enter the city at all were forced to go.
-
-Contrary, however, to any fears which either the Comtesse de Valorme
-or Bevill might have felt as to their admission being made difficult,
-they found that it was extremely easy. The fact of the trooper who
-accompanied them having been sent by the Duc de Guise as an escort
-brought about this state of things, since it was almost unheard of
-that, whatever might be the detachment on guard at the exterior lines,
-or whosoever might be the travellers, such thought for their
-convenience should be exercised.
-
-Consequently, the slightest examination of the papers of each was made
-by those at this barrier, and a moment later the barrier was passed.
-
-Bevill had accomplished part of the task he had set out to perform. He
-was in the city where dwelt the woman whom he had come from England to
-help and assist.
-
-"I am in Liege," he whispered to himself. "Yet--yet the difficulties
-do but now begin. May Heaven prosper me as it has done hitherto!"
-
-They progressed now through the long, narrow streets that recalled, as
-every street in the Netherlands recalled, and still in many cases
-recalls, the ancient rule of Spaniard and Austrian. And thus,
-continuing on their way, crossing old bridges over the canals and
-watercourses that run from out the Meuse, observing the burghers
-coming forth from the service of many of their churches, and remarking
-the rich shops and warehouses full of silks and brocades from the
-far-off Indies and Java, they came at last to one of the long quays
-that border the river.
-
-"And so," the Comtesse de Valorme said, as now the coach drew up at a
-great solid house in a small square off this quay, "we part for the
-present. Yet, monsieur, we are more than acquaintances now, more than
-mere fellow-travellers----"
-
-"Friends, if madame will permit."
-
-"Ay, friends! Therefore will you not tell me what is your rightful
-name? It may be well that I should know it."
-
-"My name is Bevill Bracton, madame. I never thought when I set out
-upon this journey that I should tell it to any but her whom I seek;
-yet to you I now do so willingly."
-
-"You may tell it in all confidence, and you know you may. 'Bevill
-Bracton,'" she repeated to herself. "I shall not forget. 'Bevill
-Bracton,'" she said again, as though desirous of impressing it
-thoroughly on her memory. "But here," she went on, "you are to be
-known always as Andre de Belleville!"
-
-"It would be best, madame. I shall be known to few and, if fortune
-serves, shall not be long here."
-
-For a moment the Comtesse let her clear eyes rest on the young man, as
-though she were meditating somewhat deeply; then suddenly, though
-hesitating somewhat in her speech as she did so, she said:
-
-"And this young countrywoman of yours--this lady whom you have come so
-far to assist? May I not know her name also? It is no curiosity that
-prompts me----"
-
-"Madame," Bevill replied, "our confidence is well established, our
-friendship made. The lady's name is Sylvia Thorne."
-
-"Sylvia Thorne! Sylvia Thorne! Why, I know her. We, too, are friends,
-and firm ones."
-
-"You know her? You are friends?"
-
-"In very truth. I have been here more than once before as guest of my
-kinsman. And--yes, Sylvia Thorne and I are friends. Ah! what a double
-passport would this have been to my friendship had I but known that
-you were on your way to sweet Sylvia."
-
-"She is, then, sweet? Doubtless gentle also?"
-
-"She is both. In Sylvia Thorne, whom you say you knew once as a little
-child, you will find a sweet, good woman. Grave, perhaps, beyond her
-years--she has suffered much by the loss of both her parents--and too
-calm and unruffled, it may be, for one whose footsteps have but now
-passed over the threshold of womanhood. Sincere with those who win her
-regard, contemptuous of those unworthy of the good opinion of any
-honest man or woman; while yet placed here as she is, she possesses
-one gift she had far better be without."
-
-"And that is, madame?"
-
-"The gift of beauty; for she is beautiful, but seems to know it not.
-And it may be that her beauty is too cold and stately; it has not the
-brightness, the joyousness, that should accompany the beauty of youth.
-But you will see her ere long. Observe, those whom I come to dwell
-with for a time are at the door. Farewell--nay, _au revoir_ only,
-since you will not enter. _Adieu_ till next we meet. You know the
-house now; the door stands ever open to those who are my friends."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XII.
-
-
-On that long quay over which the coach had passed but just now, Bevill
-Bracton, as he rode by its side, had observed an ancient inn, as all
-things were ancient in this old-world land--one that bore on its front
-the name, "Gouden Leeuw," and testified as to what its Walloon
-significance might be by having beneath it a fierce-looking gilt
-monster, that might be intended for a lion, as sign.
-
-"That should be the house for me," Bevill thought, as now he rode back
-towards it. "A front room here, on the lower floor, if it may be
-obtained; the river almost at its feet, boats tied to old posts and
-stanchions. All is well. If danger threatens, as well it may, then
-have I the way open to me."
-
-For Bevill had not been a soldier for nothing, nor had he forgotten
-that he who attempts daring deeds should ever have a retreat open in
-case of need.
-
-That the business he was now about was, in absolute truth, of almost
-foolhardy daring he had known and recognised from the moment he
-decided to undertake it as he stood before the Earl of Peterborough at
-Fulham; while, as he advanced farther and farther through a land
-which, though not itself hostile to England, was in the clutches of
-England's greatest enemy, he had more and more recognised this to be
-the case. But now that he was here, in a city surrounded by those who
-had possessed themselves of it during a peace that had never been a
-complete one, a city whose heights and strong places were full of the
-enemy, he allowed no delusions to prevent him from acknowledging the
-perils by which he was surrounded. If he should be suspected, watched,
-and either denounced or arrested, there would be no hope for him. He
-was neither a soldier who would be saved by his calling nor a
-political agent who could be saved by any mission that might have been
-entrusted to him. He was merely a subject of the greatest enemy of
-France, disguised under a French name; a man who could have no
-ostensible reason for being here except as a spy.
-
-
-[Illustration: "Impressed it with a ring he wore."]
-
-
-As, however, he reflected on all this, while forgetting no point that
-would tell deeply against him--there was not one that would tell in
-his favour!--he felt no qualm of apprehension, and fear itself was
-utterly absent. He had set his life upon this cast; the hazard of the
-die must bring him either a restitution of all that he desired, or
-total oblivion of all things in this world. He had elected to make the
-throw, even as the soldier stakes his life against either Fortune's
-buffets or rewards; fear had no part or parcel in the attempt. Yet, as
-with the soldier, it behoved him to be wary, to fling no chance away,
-to risk no more than every brave attempt requires to make it a
-successful one.
-
-What Bevill hoped to find at the "Gouden Leeuw" was, happily,
-obtainable. A room was put at his disposal which, while looking across
-the quay on to the river, had also, since it was at an angle of the
-house, another window giving on to an alley that ran along the side of
-the inn.
-
-"Therefore," Bevill said to himself, "all is very well. Should I be
-sought for when I am in this room I still have two other modes of
-egress beside the door. Should they attempt to get at me from either
-window, still I have the door. Short of surrounding the house, I can
-hardly be trapped, and not at all without making a good fight of it."
-
-"Yet," he continued to muse, as now he endeavoured to make himself
-presentable and, at the least, well washed and brushed and combed,
-since he intended at sunset to make his way to Sylvia according to the
-directions on the letter he bore; "yet it may never come to this. I
-obtained entrance easily to this city; I have but the brains of a bird
-if, after I have made myself well acquainted with the place, I do not
-discover some way of getting Mistress Thorne and myself out of it."
-
-By this time the sun was beginning to dip towards where the North Sea
-lay afar off; already its rays were slanting across the Meuse and into
-the windows of his room. The air was becoming cooler; soon the evening
-would be at hand; and then he would make his way towards the "Weiss
-Haus," as he knew the abode of the late Mr. Thorne was termed; and, if
-it might be, present his credentials to the young mistress of that
-house.
-
-But first he must make a meal, since he had eaten nothing since he set
-out from St. Trond. Therefore he went now to the usual description of
-room where travellers ate, and, ordering a good substantial repast, at
-down to do justice to it. While he was waiting for his supper to be
-brought to him, he drew from the pocket in his vest the letter which
-Lord Peterborough had given him, and regarded it again.
-
-It was addressed in the Earl's own hand to "Mistress Sylvia Thorne, of
-the Weiss Haus, Liege, in the Bishoprick of Liege," and tied with
-silk, but unsealed, his lordship having either adopted the ancient
-courteous custom of leaving all letters of presentation open, or
-perhaps desiring that the bearer of it should read the credentials he
-bore.
-
-Needless to say that Bevill was not one who would have availed himself
-of the chance he had possessed for days of discovering what those
-credentials were. He would not have been here as the accredited agent
-of the Earl, and on such a mission as this, had it not been certain
-that the recommendation was all that was necessary to induce Sylvia
-Thorne to entrust herself to his hands. The confidence of Lord
-Peterborough told him plainly enough what the contents of that letter
-must be; while, even if it had not been so, Bevill would no more have
-thought of untying the silk bow and reading those contents than of
-breaking the seal had there been one.
-
-But his astute lordship had made one slip in what he had written. In
-one corner of the folds, where the superscription was, he had written,
-"To present my cousin, Bevill Bracton, heretofore known to
-you.--P. & M."
-
-"My lord must have supposed this letter would leave my hand only to be
-taken into the lady's," Bevill said to himself; "otherwise he would
-never have written my name thus. He should have put in its place,
-'Monsieur Andre de Belleville,' since it must pass through the hands
-of some servitor or waiting maid to reach hers." Then, smiling to
-himself, he went on, "He warned me of the danger I must encounter
-should this letter fall into the hands of others than Mistress Thorne.
-Those dangers might well have been added to by this forgetfulness.
-However, it matters not now. 'Tis easily made safe."
-
-He bade the serving man, who had not yet brought him his supper, fetch
-a sheet of papers a white wax candle, and some Spanish wax, and, when
-this was done, bade him bring also an inkhorn and pen. Then, folding
-Lord Peterborough's letter in the fresh sheet, he lit the wax and
-impressed it with a ring he wore, and, when the horn came, addressed
-it in French to "Mistress Thorne, at the Weiss Haus." Adding also,
-"The bearer waits."
-
-"The house," he thought as now he ate his supper, "should be on this
-or some other quay. My lord said that great was the merchandise in
-which her father dealt, and also that he owned many vessels. He would
-be near the water's edge, since the river is navigable to the sea."
-
-For precaution--the precaution of not doing aught that might in
-any way, if danger should arise, be inimical to Sylvia Thorne's
-security--Bevill had resolved that he would ask no questions in the
-"Gouden Leeuw" as to the situation of her house. He would give no
-intimation whatever that could connect his appearance in this city
-with the Englishwoman who, though not a captive, was at least not free
-from the environment of her country's foes. He had resolved that the
-man supposed to be a Frenchman named Andre de Belleville, residing at
-this inn, should not be known, in it at least, to be a visitor to the
-young Englishwoman at the Weiss Haus.
-
-He went out shortly on to the quay and walked slowly along under the
-row of trees planted on it and on a similar one across the river, and
-observed that many of the burghers were taking the evening air with
-their wives and children. In their aspect there was little to be
-perceived that would have told a stranger that, either in their strong
-places or outside their walls, there lay the hostile army of the most
-dreaded monarch in Europe, which, at this time, meant almost the whole
-world. Neither did he see any French about, and certainly no soldiers
-of any rank; and he did not know that strict orders had been given in
-the Duke of Burgundy's name that all of them were to keep apart from,
-and, above all, not to molest, the inhabitants of any towns or cities
-they either held or surrounded.
-
-He saw, however, many monks and priests, which did not astonish him,
-since he knew well that, though the Reformed Faith had been long since
-adopted here by the inhabitants, the Bishopric of Liege was in the
-Spanish interests, which meant the Romish, and always had been. Nay,
-had he not heard that here was a college of English Jesuits, as well
-as another of French?
-
-Even, however, a Bevill continued his way, while thinking that, at
-last, he would have to ask some honest burgher to direct him to where
-the Weiss Haus might be, he passed a group of men, one or two of whom
-were clad in the garb of a priest, while the others were
-undistinguishable by their attire.
-
-One of the latter, a young man of almost his own age, had fixed his
-eyes on Bevill as he drew near--as, indeed, many other eyes had been
-fixed on his erect figure and comely face before--while, as the group
-passed him, this young man not only stared hard at him, but, as Bevill
-could observe by a side glance, turned round to look again as he went
-by.
-
-"I' fags!" Bevill said to himself, walking on slowly, "the man seems
-to know me, though never have I consorted with any of his seeming
-friends to my knowledge or recollection. And yet--and yet--those dark
-eyes that glinted at me under the trees do not appear strange, any
-more than did his other features. Where have I seen him before, or
-have I ever seen him? Tush! if 'twas ever, it must have been when I
-was in the last campaign. We were much given to running against these
-gentry."
-
-He had reached the end of the most frequented part of the quay by now,
-and had, indeed, come to a part of it where the high houses, built in
-many cases of dark blue marble, no longer presented an unbroken array.
-Instead, they were detached from one another, and stood in large
-gardens having walls round them; while on the front, towards the quay,
-were openings in which were enormous iron gates. In many cases great
-warehouses close by lifted their heads high into the air, so that here
-they alternated with the residences and spoilt the latter (whose
-appearance was handsome) by their own unlovely though businesslike
-aspect. But, farther away still, there stood another mansion deeply
-embowered in trees and, at some considerable distance beyond it, an
-enormous warehouse, yet one that was such a distance off that, since
-the house itself was surrounded by the trees, it would in no way
-disturb the peace of the latter or the views from it. And the mansion
-itself now gleamed out white in the evening sun.
-
-"It may well be her abode," Bevill thought to himself. "Very well it
-may; and if it is not, then must I ask the whereabouts of the Weiss
-Haus; or, maybe, it is across the river. Yet that matters not. I
-passed a ferry but now."
-
-When, however, he stood in front of that great white mansion he learnt
-that he had found the house of her whom he had come from England to
-seek.
-
-Through the bars of the great iron gate which this mansion possessed
-in common with the others hard by, Bevill could see the gardens laid
-out in the stiff Dutch fashion he had so often seen before, though
-still, it seemed to him as if some attempt had been made to give to
-them an English appearance. Beyond the straight beds of tulips, the
-flowers of which were now almost all gone, there was a lawn, or grass
-plot, green as any lawn in England, smooth and well kept, and having
-at its edges beds of roses placed in front of formal statues and
-summer-houses.
-
-"There is some touch of our land here," Bevill said to himself. "In
-good truth, I do believe that I have found the lady."
-
-Seeing through the bars an old man weeding 'twixt the rows of tulip
-plants, though he seemed to do his work in a half-hearted way as
-though indifferent to what success his efforts might produce, Bevill,
-addressing him in the best Dutch he could summon up, asked, "Is this
-the house of Mistress Thorne?"
-
-"_Ja; Ja wohl_," the old man said, looking up from his work. "What do
-you desire?"
-
-"To see her. It is for that I am here."
-
-The gardener let his eyes rove over Bevill as he received this answer,
-and observed that he was well and handsomely dressed, although his
-dress, and breast and neck lace, showed signs of travel in spite of
-the brushing they had received; then he said:
-
-"The Juffrouw sees little company now--none but old friends, and
-specially none of those who lie out there or there," waving his hands
-with a sweep which included, as Bevill very well understood, those who
-lay outside the town and in the citadel and Chartreuse.
-
-"It may be she will see me," Bevill said. "At least, I will make trial
-of it. Take this," he continued, while drawing from his breast the
-letter he had so recently furnished with a further wrapper and giving
-it to the man; "and this for your labour," putting a rix-dollar into
-his hand. "Now, go and do my bidding."
-
-The coin did for Bevill that which, perhaps, neither the packet nor
-his own tone of command might have been able to accomplish, and,
-thrusting his hoe into one of the flower beds, the gardener went off
-towards the white house, while muttering:
-
-"I can take it as far as the stoop, but no farther. There it must be
-given to a house servant, who may deliver it into the hands of the
-Juffrouw. I can answer for no more."
-
-"Do that, and it will serve. Make haste, the night falls; it is
-growing late."
-
-When the old man had shambled off, Bevill, standing by a thicket at
-one side of the garden, let his eyes roam over the great white front
-of the old, solid house while observing how firmly it had been built,
-and how strong and handsome it was.
-
-In front of the ground floor, to which three stone steps led up, there
-ran a long verandah, also of stone: above, on the first floor, where,
-Bevill supposed, the saloons were, there projected huge, bulging stone
-balconies leading out from the windows, and on one of these there was
-a great table placed, with chairs by it, so that he supposed people
-sat out here in the cool of the evening when the sun was gone. Also,
-there were flowers in china tubs everywhere, and orange trees and
-shrubs all about, and awnings too, whereby the great house presented
-not only a look of great solidity, but also one of comfort.
-
-But now he saw the old gardener coming back towards him, and observed
-that his hand no longer held the letter. And next he remarked
-something else.
-
-He saw a great striped curtain drawn back from behind the window, and
-from behind a lace curtain also, and, a moment later, there stepped on
-to the balcony a young woman clad all in black, though her long robe
-was broidered with white lace--a woman who, he saw at one glance, was
-tall and slight; while--also in the same glance--he perceived that she
-was beautiful.
-
-After which, as he advanced hat in hand, until he was almost directly
-under that balcony where now the lady, her hands upon the edge, stood
-looking down at him bowing before her, he saw that she waved a sign of
-salutation to him, and, as she leant further over, said:
-
-"Sir, for this visit I thank you. It is long since we have met. You
-are vastly welcome. Enter my house, I beg. One of the domestics will
-bring you to me."
-
-With a bow, accompanied by a courteous acknowledgment of her words,
-Bevill proceeded towards the house, when to his astonishment he heard
-the old gardener, who had reached his side before this, mutter some
-words in an angry voice--the words, "He here again! He! No matter.
-To-night he shall not enter."
-
-Attracted by these mutterings and also by the old man's glances
-directed towards the great gate, Bevill could not refrain from
-following those glances, and, as he did so, saw that a man's eyes were
-staring in through the wrought-iron bars.
-
-The eyes he recognised as those belonging to the same man who had
-stared so inquiringly at him on the quay less than half an hour
-before.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIII.
-
-
-The hall of this old house was large and square, its floor composed of
-brown and yellow diamond-shaped marble tiles, over the greater part of
-which were thrown down various rugs of gorgeous hues. Facing the
-entrance was a large staircase, also of marble, that, after ascending
-for five steps, turned to either side and so led up to a gallery
-above, from which the first floor rooms opened all round.
-
-Now, as Bevill entered the hall, he saw that Sylvia had descended from
-that floor and was standing on the top step of the five awaiting him.
-Then, as he approached, she descended the other four steps and, coming
-swiftly towards him with both hands outstretched, exclaimed:
-
-"So you are Bevill Bracton, who once played with me in the gardens of
-Carey Villa at Fulham--the young man who pined to be a soldier and
-became one. In truth, and I am well pleased to see you; yet, had I met
-you elsewhere I should have scarce known you for my old playmate."
-
-"Nor I you, Mistress Sylvia Thorne; for then you were a little winsome
-child and now----"
-
-"Now I am a woman. One too," she added, while a shade crept over her
-face, "whom you find in sad and sorry plight. For, as you know, my
-father has gone from me--from me who loved him so!--and I am here in
-this beleaguered city, not knowing whether to leave it or stay on and
-brave the worst. Yet be that as it may, I thank you for coming here,
-for offering your services to your kinsman on my behalf."
-
-Murmuring his regrets for the loss of her father and also for the
-situation in which she found herself placed, while protesting that
-that which he had done and hoped still more to do was nothing, Bevill
-could not but let his eyes roam over the features of the young woman
-who stood welcoming him. And, as he did so, he acknowledged how
-truthfully the Comtesse de Valorme had spoken when she told him that
-she had the gift of beauty.
-
-For beautiful Sylvia Thorne was, with that beauty on which no man
-gazes without giving instant acknowledgment thereof, even though that
-acknowledgment is never outwardly expressed by eye or voice.
-
-The child's large dark grey eyes--perhaps they were a dark hazel--yet
-who may tell the shade of women's eyes at one swift glance!--fringed
-with dark lashes, as he had recalled to the Earl of Peterborough,
-were, of course, the same; but the rest had changed. The dark chestnut
-hair that, in Sylvia's girlhood, had flowed loosely about her, was now
-coiled in masses above her white forehead; the clear-cut features that
-had promised so much in the young girl had redeemed in her young
-womanhood that which they promised. And those quiet, calm eyes well
-became the oval face, straight nose, and small mouth, the upper lip
-being divinely short; while, when Lord Peterborough had agreed that
-she was passing fair, and the Comtesse had said that she was beautiful
-yet seemed not to know that she was so, each had judged aright. Also,
-there was in her the tranquillity that the latter had spoken of, but
-shadowed, too, by the memory of a recent sorrow. For the rest, she
-was, like Rosalind, "more than common tall," upright, and full of
-dignity; a woman who, as years went on--if they were peaceful, quiet
-ones, with all that should accompany them, such as love, home, and
-children; years undisturbed by the struggles for triumph or the tears
-of failure--would develop into a stately, and it may be commanding
-one.
-
-Doubtless, as Bevill looked on Sylvia Thorne, so, also, she looked to
-see what changes time had wrought in the youth who, once little better
-than a stripling, was now a man, strong, firm, self-reliant. If so,
-what she saw should not have impressed her unfavourably. The handsome
-features had not altered, but only become more firmly set; the mouth,
-well shaped, spoke of determination, and told of one who, without
-obstinacy, would still remain unturned from any resolution he had come
-to; the stalwart form of the man had taken the place of the tall,
-promising youth.
-
-Seated in that great hall into which by now the rays of the evening
-sun were pouring, and to which two servants had brought great
-candelabra filled with white wax candles, while they had already lit
-those in the sconces on the pillars, Sylvia and Bevill spoke of what
-the future might have before them. But that which Sylvia now told the
-young man seemed scarcely to convey the idea that he had undertaken a
-journey likely to bear much fruit.
-
-"Since my dear father's death," she said, after Bevill had described
-some portions of his journey from London, though omitting the fact of
-his having been recognised by Sparmann, since he thought it
-inadvisable to tell her that there was danger in his undertaking, "I
-have lived here with a companion. Almost, one might say, a _chaperon_,
-or, as the old tyrannical rulers of the land would have termed her, a
-_duenna_. Yet now she has fallen sick--in truth, I think the French
-have terrified her into a fever. Therefore she has departed--it was
-but yesterday--to her own people at Brussels, where, however, she will
-also find the French; and I am alone in this great house."
-
-"What, in consequence, have you resolved on doing?"
-
-"On shutting it up and seeking refuge at Mynheer Van Ryk's----"
-
-"The house to which your friend the Comtesse de Valorme has gone!"
-Bevill exclaimed.
-
-They had already spoken of the Comtesse, Bevill telling Sylvia that
-that lady had said the latter was well known to her, and also that she
-had told him ere they parted that Van Ryk had married a connection of
-hers.
-
-"Yes, that is the house; yet--yet I know not if it is well for me to
-go there. If----"
-
-"But," said Bevill, "if you resolve to follow my lord's advice--and he
-is left your guardian--and do me so great an honour as to permit me to
-endeavour to escort you safely to England, you will scarce need to ask
-for hospitality of Mynheer Van Ryk."
-
-"I know not. Frankly, I know not what to do. To be very honest, you
-should know I am in no danger here--from the French. They have their
-faults, and those are neither few nor small; but they are gallant to
-women, and, except that they drive hard bargains for all they require,
-they have not molested those who dwell in the towns and cities they
-either possess themselves of or surround."
-
-"Until now," Bevill said, while feeling somewhat surprised and
-somewhat disappointed, too, at this last utterance of Sylvia, since it
-seemed to express a doubt on her part as to whether she should avail
-herself of the service which he had come to perform--"until now they
-have but made themselves secure of those towns and cities, with a view
-to what the future may bring forth. But it is war time at last, and
-half Europe has declared against France and Spain. Will France
-restrain herself so much in the future? Especially since
-Holland--the Netherlands--have banded with England against her?"
-
-"Ah, yes; ah, yes," Sylvia replied meditatively. "It is true I had
-forgotten that. Affairs will doubtless be much changed; and
-also--also," she said in a low voice, as if speaking more to herself
-than to Bevill, "I am averse to becoming an inmate of Mynheer Van
-Ryk's house, hospitably as he has pressed me to do so."
-
-Recognising that in this there lay hidden some reason which, probably,
-Sylvia Thorne knew to be a good one for preventing her acceptance of
-the hospitality of the Liegois house, yet still one which she did not
-desire to confide to him, Bevill held his peace, and decided that it
-did not become him to ask what that reason might be.
-
-Yet, since he asked no question, nor, indeed, uttered any remark at
-the conclusion of what Sylvia had said, she looked round at him as
-though in wonderment at his silence.
-
-Then, a moment later, she said:
-
-"Between you and me there must be no secrets. The service you have
-done me, the service you came here to render me, the service you may
-yet do me--nay!" she said, seeing his motion of dissent, "it is in
-truth a service. Do not refuse to regard it as one. There must, I say,
-be no secrets between us. Therefore, I will be very frank, and tell
-you why I do not like the thought of sojourning at Mynheer Van Ryk's."
-
-Bevill made a motion with his hand, as though not only to deprecate
-her appreciation of what he had undertaken to do on her behalf, but
-also to prevent her from making any confidences to him that she would
-have preferred not to divulge. But Sylvia, sitting upright in her
-chair on the other side of the old carved oak table that was between
-them--while he observed the calm, almost impassive, dignity with which
-she spoke of a subject that must be far from pleasant to her--said:
-
-"There is in that house a man--a young man--a kinsman of Madame
-Van Ryk and, consequently, of the Comtesse de Valorme also,
-who--who--well, wearies me with his attentions. He professes to admire
-me, and desires that his admiration should be returned."
-
-"Yes?" Bevill replied in a tone of inquiry, while in that tone there
-was no expression of astonishment. It may be, indeed, that there was
-no cause for astonishment in what Sylvia had told him. She was
-beautiful--"passing fair," as he had himself said when musing on what
-the child he had once known might have become by now, and as Lord
-Peterborough had echoed; also she was young and--which might well
-serve for much--wealthy. There was, he thought, no great cause for
-wonderment. Therefore he said simply, "Yes?" and waited to hear more.
-
-"The matter," Sylvia continued, "would be unworthy a thought, but that
-it may make my sojourn at Mynheer Van Ryk's irksome to me."
-
-"There being no hope of reciprocation?"
-
-"It is impossible. To me this man--this Emile Francbois----"
-
-"This _who?_" Bevill exclaimed in a voice that caused Sylvia to turn
-round suddenly and glance at him under the lights of the great
-candelabra. "Ah!" she exclaimed, "is it possible you know him, or know
-of him?"
-
-"No, no! The name struck me as--as one that I had heard before in--in
-far-off days, while unable to recall where or in what circumstances I
-had done so. I pray you pardon my interruption. You were about to say
-that to you this man, this Emile--what is it?--Francbois was----"
-
-"Repellent. He is--oh! I know not what--yet one whom I mistrust.
-Neither know I why he is here. He is, of course, a Frenchman, yet he
-consorts not with those who hold Liege in their hands, and speaks as
-though his sympathy is with all who are Dutch."
-
-"And, if he were different," Bevill asked quietly, "would your
-sentiments be also different?"
-
-"Oh--oh!" Sylvia exclaimed, "how can you ask? Yet it is true you do
-not know him; you have not seen him yet. Doubtless you will do so,
-however, if I am compelled to accept the hospitality of his kinsman's
-house."
-
-"Yet need there be no such compulsion. You will not have forgotten
-what Lord Peterborough's desires are, what I am here for. To take you
-away from Liege. Liege that, it is true, has not been harmful to you
-as yet, but that may now become terribly so. The Earl of Marlborough
-must be on his way here by this time; he may be in the Netherlands by
-now; when he comes, war will be carried on in terrible earnest. Will
-these French, who do but lie around this city at present, be
-considerate for those who are within its walls when they themselves
-are between those walls and the troops of the Allies?"
-
-"For myself I do not fear. I am a woman, and therefore safe; but----"
-"But--yes?"
-
-"The risk will be terrible!"
-
-"The risk? You are safe, yet fear the risk?"
-
-"Not for myself," Sylvia answered with a half-smile; then, changing
-her tone, speaking once more now in her calm, steady voice, she
-continued: "Mr. Bracton, do you deem me a heartless, selfish woman
-thinking only of her own safety? I pray not. Nay," seeing that he was
-about to reply, "I entreat you, let me speak." After which she went
-on: "For me there is little or no danger here. Your cousin, who has
-ever had kindly thoughts for me, has overrated the danger in which I
-stand. I repeat there is no danger. But--what of you? In what a
-position has he placed you?"
-
-"Ah! never think of it. What care I for danger? And--has he not told
-you in the letter I was bearer of that I courted danger? I asked for
-this office on which I now am. I besought him to let me be the
-messenger who should reach you, who should be, if not the man who
-saved you, at least the one who should accompany you, help you, serve
-you in your journey to England."
-
-"You are very brave," the girl said, looking up at him as now he stood
-before her, since he had risen and taken up his hat, knowing that,
-because the night had come, it was time he left her--"brave and
-gallant. From my heart I thank you."
-
-"No thanks are due. I do not deserve them. Do you know my unhappy
-circumstances, and how I hope to mend them? Do you know how I, who
-held not long ago the position I loved--the one I had hoped for since
-I was a boy----"
-
-"I know," Sylvia Thorne said, looking at him. "I know, and still I
-thank you; and, in good faith, I would be gone willingly enough from
-out this place, but not"--and for a moment, just a moment, her
-stateliness left her, and she placed her hands before her eyes--"not
-at the risk, the danger to you, that must surely arise."
-
-"The danger is not worth a thought. The English are all around, are
-near. Only a few hours ago I encountered some English officers not
-twenty miles from here. Once we reach Athlone's forces, or those of
-Lord Cutts, we are in safe hands. Our lines stretch from near Venloo
-almost to Rotterdam; an English road would not be more safe. And the
-sea is ours; the fleets of Rooke, of Shovel, are all about.
-Decide--and come, I do beseech you."
-
-"The danger to you," Sylvia said, as now she escorted him to the
-verandah, "is neither in Holland nor on the high seas. It is here.
-Here, in Liege! If it is once discovered that you, an Englishman, have
-entered this city as a Frenchman, that you are endeavouring to quit it
-while assisting a countrywoman to also do so, you will never leave it
-alive. Never! Never! Your chivalry will have led you to your doom. Ah!
-Mr. Bracton," she continued, "there is no danger to me; therefore, I
-implore you, leave me. Leave me. Escape yourself, as, alone, you may
-well do. Escape while there is time."
-
-"Never!" While, as he spoke, Sylvia Thorne, looking at him in the
-light of the now rising moon, saw that he smiled. "Never! If you will
-not come, if you will not do your guardian's bidding, then I have
-another resource."
-
-"Another resource?"
-
-"Why, yes: I stay here with you!"
-
-"Ah, no! Ah, no!"
-
-"Yes, I remain with you. When the Allies come near here, as come they
-surely will--are they not besieging Kaiserswoerth--do they not hold
-Maestricht--is not Venloo, close by, threatened?--there will be
-terrible trouble in Liege. Those French regiments outside will be
-drawn nearer; some will be thrown into the city, besides those already
-in the Citadel and the Chartreuse; a terrible state of things will
-prevail, an awful licence. I know the French--we have met before!
-Therefore I will not go and leave you, having found you. I undertook
-to do this thing, and I will stand by my word--my word given to my
-kinsman and your guardian. We leave this city together on our road to
-the Allies, if not to England, or----"
-
-"Yes--or----"
-
-"We remain in it together. I will never set eyes on Peterborough's
-face again till I stand before him with you by my side--and safe."
-
-As Bevill Bracton spoke thus while standing, hat in hand, on the
-crushed shells of the path below the verandah steps, and while looking
-upwards at the young mistress of the great house, the summer night had
-fallen almost entirely, and, beyond the faint light of the dusk and
-that of the stars, all was dark around.
-
-Also, the night was very still, save that, afar off, some nightingales
-were singing in a copse, and, now and again, the voices of the boatmen
-could be heard on the river and, sometimes, the splash and drip of
-their oars as they touched the water.
-
-
-[Illustration: "He could hear her words distinctly."--_p_. 506.]
-
-
-The night was so still that, though Sylvia Thorne spoke now in little
-more than a whisper, he, standing below and gazing up at her, could
-hear her words distinctly.
-
-"You will not go," she murmured; "you will not go, leaving me here.
-Ah! well, you are truly brave and daring." Then, releasing the
-tendrils of a passion flower growing round one of the great pillars,
-with which she had been playing, she held out her hand while
-continuing:
-
-"A wilful man must have his way; but, at least, go now. Farewell.
-Goodnight."
-
-While, as Bevill turned away and went towards the gate, she murmured
-to herself:
-
-"Lord Peterborough should be proud to call you cousin, to have chosen
-you as his emissary."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIV.
-
-
-Turning to look round once more, and to again salute Sylvia as he
-reached the gate (at which he found the ancient gardener waiting to
-let him out and make all fast when he had gone), he saw that the girl
-still stood upon the balcony and, through the darkness of the night,
-was looking towards the spot he had now reached. The flare of the
-candles in the large candelabra within the hall streamed out of the
-great open door, making a patch of light behind Sylvia and causing her
-to stand out clearly before his eyes. By this he could perceive that
-she was leaning against the pillar and looking down towards where he
-was, and that behind her head the passion flowers gleamed white, as
-though forming a setting to it.
-
-Then, while doubting whether she could see his action, he nevertheless
-raised his three-cornered hat again, and so passed out into the road
-between the great gate and the river.
-
-Once beyond the gate, however, he paused, and, dropping his hand to
-his sash, took his sword-handle in it and softly drew the blade up and
-down in the sheath to make sure that it ran loose and free.
-
-"Francbois," he said to himself as he did so. "Francbois, Emile
-Francbois! 'Tis strange I did not recall his name before. And he is
-here in Liege. Also, he loves Sylvia, and would be loved by her. So,
-so; that way trouble may come. Od's heart!--soon we shall have as good
-a comedy here--or will it be a tragi-comedy?--as ever George Farquhar
-or Mrs. Centlivre has written. Well, we will see to it."
-
-Continuing his way towards the "Gouden Leeuw," and continuing it
-warily too, for he knew not whether from behind some wall, either of
-warehouse or solid, comfortable mansion, he might not see in the
-moonlight a pair of dark eyes glinting at him, or the phosphorescent
-sparkle of a rapier's blade that an instant later might be making
-trial of his coat's thickness, he also continued to muse.
-
-"Sparmann at Antwerp and then at St. Trond--what was it seized on that
-vagabond and caused him to hold his hand and disappear?--and now
-Francbois here! Francbois, who was at the Lycee in Paris with me--the
-boy I sometimes beat for his impertinence regarding my countrymen, and
-to whom I sometimes gave a trifle for doing my impositions. And I did
-not know him this evening! Ah, well, 'tis not so strange either.
-Thirteen years have changed him much. If they have done the same for
-me, it may be that neither does he know me. And yet--and yet--I would
-be sworn he did. One glances not at another as he glanced at me
-without having good reason for't."
-
-As Bevill Bracton reflected, so the matter was. This Emile Francbois,
-this man who had stared so at him on the Quai as he went towards the
-Weiss Haus--this man who had undoubtedly followed him to that house,
-and peered in through the bars of the gate while evidently aghast at
-discovering that the other, whom he knew to be an Englishman, was also
-known to the woman whose love he desired--had been a schoolfellow of
-Bevill's in Paris.
-
-And, now, the latter recalled him, as he had done from the moment
-Sylvia uttered his name. He recalled the slight, sickly-looking boy
-who came from Limousin and dwelt with a priest outside the Lycee--the
-boy who told tales of his comrades both inside and outside of school
-that often earned for them beatings and punishments. Also, he recalled
-how preternaturally clever this boy was, how easily he mastered
-lessons and subjects that other scholars stumbled over, and how he
-made money by his wits, by doing the lessons and impositions of those
-others for them.
-
-"The man is," Bevill continued to muse, "what the boy has been; the
-boy is what the man will become. I doubt me not that as Emile
-Francbois was, so he is now. Crafty and clever, fawning and malignant.
-Ready to obtain money by any unclean trick. He knows my name; he will
-not have forgotten it--if he has, he will soon recall it. If there is
-aught to be earned by betraying, by denouncing me, then he will do it.
-I must find the means of silencing him. Yet how? Shall I give him
-money, or, better still, this," and he fingered the quillon of his
-sword as thus he meditated.
-
-"So he loves Sylvia, does he?" he went on, as now he drew near the
-'Gouden Leeuw,' "and she despises him. Ah! 'tis very well; the game is
-afoot. If she does not set out soon for England with me, it is as like
-as not that I shall never set out at all. All the same, I will take no
-trouble in advance."
-
-After which he entered the inn, though not before he had looked well
-around to see if anyone--if Francbois--might be hovering near to spy
-on him; and so went to bed and slept peacefully.
-
-Meanwhile, among many others in Liege who that night, as every night,
-were full of thoughts and anxieties as to what was soon to take place
-either in it or outside it, Sylvia Thorne was one. The Weiss Haus was
-closed now for the night, the great hall door barred firmly, with, in
-the house, some of her menservants keeping watch by turns. For these
-were truly troublous times. At any moment the French might be attacked
-by some of the forces of the Allies, in which case they would in all
-probability instantly enter the city and quarter themselves wherever
-accommodation might be found. Therefore, all property was in imminent
-danger; at any moment the burghers old houses might be turned into
-barracks and their warehouses into stables, their granaries taken
-possession of, and their servants used as the beleaguerers' own.
-
-To-night, however, all was peaceful; the city was very quiet;
-excepting only the distant sounds that occasionally reached Sylvia's
-ears from the French lines--the call of a trumpet or bugle and,
-sometimes, the hoarse challenge of a sentry in the Citadel, or the
-Chartreuse, borne towards her on the soft evening breeze--nothing
-disturbed those who slept or watched.
-
-Seated in her own room, with the window set open for coolness, Sylvia
-was thinking deeply over the sudden appearance of Bevill Bracton, and,
-womanlike, she was dreaming over that which never fails to appeal to a
-woman's stronger senses--a man's bravery, the more especially when
-that bravery has been testified, aroused, on her behalf.
-
-Now, though still she knew that he had set out upon this perilous
-journey towards her--this undertaking whose risks had scarce begun as
-yet--intent on doing something gallant that should earn the
-approbation of Marlborough when it came to his ears, she did not put
-that in the balance against him. For, womanlike again, she told
-herself that, no matter what his original object might have been in
-entering on this task, no matter that he would as willingly have taken
-part in some terrible siege or fought unaided against a dozen foemen
-as endeavour to assist her, now her own personality was merged in his
-great attempt, it must be she, and not his prospects, that would
-henceforth be paramount.
-
-Even had Sylvia not thought thus, even had it happened that Bevill
-Bracton, sojourning in this beleaguered city, had chanced to hear that
-she might stand in need of help, and, hearing, had proffered that
-help, she would have admired his prompt, unselfish chivalry as much.
-
-"'I stay here with you,'" she murmured now, repeating the words he had
-uttered. "'We leave together or remain together.' Ah, my Lord
-Peterborough," she murmured, "you spoke truly when you wrote that you
-sent a knight to me, a sentinel to keep watch and ward for me."
-
-She put her hand now to the lace she wore, and, drawing forth the
-Earl's letter, read it again, as she had done thrice over since she
-had entered the house after hearing the last footfall of Bevill
-Bracton in the road when he left her. It ran:
-
-
-"SWEET SYLVIA,
-
-"War is declared now. Well I know that, placed as you are, your
-situation is precarious. You will be alone in Liege; your house, your
-goods, your own fair self in jeopardy. For the first two it matters
-little. You may close the house up; dispose of the merchandise to some
-of the steady burghers amongst whom you dwell. But you--you, my
-stately, handsome ward! You must not be left alone. What shall become
-of you? Now read, Sylvia. There was with me to-day one who, as Will
-Shakespeare says, seeks his reputation--a restoration of it--at the
-cannon's mouth. You knew him once; he has played with you oft in your
-childhood. 'Tis Bevill Bracton, once of the Cuirassiers, who lost his
-colours because our late sour Orange contemned him for wounding of a
-Hollander who had insulted his service. He is young, yet steady and
-calm; what he attempts to do he will do unless Death seizes on him.
-Therefore he will attempt to reach you, to assist you to leave Liege,
-to put you in security either in some of _les villes gagnees_ by us,
-or in England itself. In return for which, use him; above all, trust
-him. He will be your very knight, your sentinel to watch and ward over
-you. Accept his service as he proffers it to you, the service of a
-gallant gentleman. He seeks his restoration to his calling, I say;
-that is the guerdon he aspires to for his pains. It may be that he
-will win another, sweeter to wear than either corselet or plume. Yet
-of this I would fain not speak. Only, above all, be merciful. Be not
-too grave nor solemn--not more so than becomes a maiden placed 'midst
-difficulties. Be gracious as you ever are, yet not too kind; above
-all, veil those glances that even I, Mordanto, could not resist were I
-as young as your cavalier that is to be.
-
-"This for the last. He bears your miniature about him. I will be sworn
-he will know your lineaments well long ere he reaches Liege. And still
-one more last word. In your fair hands will be all his earthly
-chances, even unto his life; his future career, when he has found you.
-Make no false step that may mar his plans; hesitate not when he
-suggests the road to safety; hamper him not. Follow where he will lead
-you; it will not be astray. That soon may I welcome you to Carey Villa
-is my prayer. That is if I, who long to draw the sword against these
-French once more, be still thwarted and refused. Farewell. Out of my
-love for your dead father and mother and your young self, I pray
-heaven to prosper you.
-
-"PETERBOROUGH AND MONMOUTH."
-
-
-Sylvia let the letter fall to her lap as she finished the reading of
-it, and sat gazing out of her window across the river beyond the
-garden wall, while watching, without seeing, the stars that twinkled
-in the skies; while listening to, without hearing, the nightingale
-answering his mate or the swirl of the water against the bank.
-
-"All his earthly chances, his life, his career in my hands," she
-whispered at last, "when once he has found me. Alas! on me there falls
-a heavy charge. And 'hesitate not when he suggests the road to
-safety.' Ah, heaven, what shall I do?"
-
-As still she pondered over these words she became almost o'erwrought;
-but suddenly it seemed as though some swift decision, some decisive
-banishment of all doubt, had come to her mind. Springing up from the
-deep chair in which she had been sitting for so long, she went to the
-window and out on to the great stone balcony which it, in common with
-all the other windows on the front, possessed: and stood there, gazing
-towards the city in which, one by one, the lights were rapidly
-becoming extinguished.
-
-"His life," she murmured once again, "his earthly chances in my hands.
-His--the life, the chances of one so brave and gallant as he! Ah! and
-my lord bids me not mar him, not thwart him, but, instead, follow him
-where he leads. And still I hesitate--or--do I hesitate?" she went on,
-whispering to herself.
-
-Then, an instant later, she exclaimed, "What am I? What? That which I
-averred to-night I was not? A selfish woman! Am I that? Am I? Because I
-am not in personal danger shall I forget the awful, hideous peril in
-which he has placed himself in undertaking this task? Nay, never," she
-said now. "Never! Never! Perish the thought! To detain him here, as
-detain him I shall if I refuse to go, means detection, ruin, death for
-him. Oh! oh! the horror of it! And on my head! But to go--if heaven
-above prospers us--may mean at least escape from this place, may
-doubtless mean the reaching of the English or Dutch forces. Safety!
-Safety for him! I am resolved." While, as Sylvia spoke, she struck the
-stone parapet of the balcony lightly with her hand. "Aye, determined.
-To-morrow--for to-morrow I shall surely see him--I will tell him so. I
-will tell him that I fear for my safety--the pretence is pardonable
-where a brave man's life is at stake--that we must go. All, all is
-pardonable so that he be saved!"
-
-On the morrow she did see him again, though not as early as she had
-anticipated she would do. Yet she knew there was a reason for his
-absence, and that a strong one.
-
-From daybreak there had been a strange, unaccustomed stir through all
-the city--a stir that made itself noticeable even here on the
-outskirts. The Liegeois seemed to have arisen early, even for them,
-and were gathering at street corners and on the stoops of their quaint
-houses, and under market-halls that stood on high wooden posts. Also,
-on the river, there was more movement than usual; boats were passing
-up and down more continuously than they had done before; all was life
-and movement.
-
-Sylvia, who had herself risen early after a somewhat disturbed night,
-was now regarding as much of this as possible from her balcony. On the
-opposite bank she could see the rays of the morning sun strike on some
-objects that glistened and sparkled beneath it, and recognised what
-those things were--breast-pieces, corselets, the lace on scarlet or
-blue coats, the scabbards of swords, and, often, the bare swords
-themselves. She heard, too, the sounds of drums beating and bugles
-sounding; while, from across the water, there came orders, issued in
-sharp, decisive tones, and, next, pontoons filled with soldiers
-crossing the river and disembarking at various points on the other
-side.
-
-After seeing which Sylvia descended to the hall and asked those who
-were about downstairs what all the movement and excitement meant.
-
-"It is the French coming into the city, Juffrouw," one of the
-servitors replied. "They say the Earl of Athlone's forces draw near,
-that Kaiserswoerth is taken by the Allies. Also they say----"
-
-"What?" Sylvia exclaimed, impatient of the man's slow, stolid speech.
-
-"That the great English commander, Marlborough, has come; that he is
-in Holland; that ere long he will march to relieve Liege."
-
-Sylvia turned away as she heard these words, and went out slowly into
-her garden and sat down in an arbour placed half-way between the house
-and the great gate.
-
-"Will this," she mused now, "tell for or against his chances--our
-chances? The city will be occupied by the French, instead of having
-them outside of it. Alas! alas! it will be against those chances. He
-runs more risk with the streets and inns full of French officers and
-soldiers than with none but the townspeople inside the walls. Also,
-the difficulties of exit are multiplied now. Heaven send the English
-forces here at once or keep them away until we are safely out of
-Liege."
-
-Thinking, pondering thus, the girl sat on for some time, though at
-intervals she would return to the house to give some orders or to ask
-if there were any further news from outside. In this manner the
-morning ran away and the day went on; but, at last, when Sylvia began
-to be alarmed at the absence of the man for whose safety she was so
-concerned, she saw that he was before her. Raising her eyes, she
-observed that he was standing outside the gate gazing in at her.
-
-This gate, as always of late, was kept locked, the key being left in
-the lock on the inside; and now, full of some feminine fear or
-instinct which seemed to hint that while Bevill was outside the gate
-he stood in more danger than if he were inside, with the great
-structure between him and those who might seek to harm him, she went
-swiftly down and turned the key, while bidding him come in quickly.
-Pushing with his shoulder one of the great halves of that gate, he had
-soon done as she bid him, while she, holding out her hand to him,
-exclaimed:
-
-"You have not--not been--oh! Danger has not threatened you?" seeming
-to gasp a little as she spoke.
-
-"Nay, nay; why should you fear?" he replied. "Though that you should
-do so is but natural. The French are sending in two of their regiments
-the better to hold the town if their out-lines are driven back; yet
-you will not be molested?"
-
-"I--" Sylvia said, though now she spoke in a more self-constrained
-voice--a voice that, maybe, had in it a colder accent, "was not
-concerned for--for--but no matter. I did but deem that with the city
-full of French now you might have been--troubled--molested."
-
-"Ah, forgive me. I misunderstood your thoughts. Now," he continued, "I
-have brought you news that may be either pleasant to you or otherwise.
-Marlborough is in Holland."
-
-"I know," she said, as she led him out of the glare of the sun towards
-the cool shade of the hall. "I know. Yet it may be that this news is
-none too pleasant. I--I--had resolved last night to quit the city, as
-both you and my Lord Peterborough think it best for me to do; to
-consult"--and as she spoke her voice seemed even more grave, more cold
-than before--"_my safety_. Now it may not be so easy to perform."
-
-"I' faith," Bevill said, with a smile, "easy is not the word. The
-gates are barred against all and everyone. Short of being a French
-soldier there is no exit from Liege now."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XV.
-
-
-Though the approach of the Allies had not taken place within a week
-from the time when it was supposed to be near, and was at least
-premature, the two regiments of soldiers--that of La Reine and that of
-Les Gardes Francaises--as well as two squadrons of the Mousquetaires
-Noirs, remained in the city. To supply these with temporary barracks
-some of the large warehouses on the quays had been occupied by the
-French (who, however, spared all dwelling-houses), and amongst them
-were Sylvia's warehouses.
-
-But the proximity of these troops had rendered the Weiss Haus no
-longer an agreeable place of residence to her, and, consequently, she
-had accepted the oft-repeated invitation of Mynheer Van Ryk and his
-wife to occupy their house with them. Neither the would-be host or
-hostess were, however, aware that she had come to the determination of
-quitting Liege at any moment that an opportunity should arise.
-
-Nor, indeed, would it have been easy for Sylvia to explain her reason
-for thus desiring to be gone. If she had stated that it was her
-intention to escape out of the city, the sober-reasoning minds of the
-Van Ryks would simply have formed the opinion--which was, in absolute
-fact, the one she had herself long since arrived at--that she was far
-safer in Liege than she would have been in quitting it and traversing
-a land now swarming with contending armies.
-
-Yet how would it be possible for her to, on the other hand, inform
-them that her reason for departing was not that of self-preservation
-at all, but, instead, of consulting the safety of a man who, in his
-desire to serve her, no matter what the origin of that desire was, had
-placed himself in terrible peril?
-
-One person existed, however, who was well aware of all Sylvia's
-thoughts and intentions; who could understand the nobility of the
-girl's mind in deciding to quit a place in which she was in no
-likelihood of danger, simply with the view to the preservation of a
-man who might at any moment be exposed to the greatest of dangers.
-Consequently, this person, who was the Comtesse de Valorme, not only
-admired Sylvia for her intentions, but, since she herself was equally
-desirous of quitting Liege for her own purposes, had decided not only
-to render assistance to the undertaking, if it were possible to do so,
-but also to form one of the fugitives.
-
-"Yet," said Sylvia to the Comtesse, as now they talked over the
-determination they had both come to, "fresh troubles arise at every
-step. 'Twas but this afternoon that M. de Belleville"--for so both
-ladies spoke of Bevill for precaution's sake, though the Comtesse had
-known for days that he was an Englishman--"confided to me that M.
-Francbois was once at school with him in Paris, and that he can by no
-chance have forgotten what his country is nor what his name is."
-
-"Where should the trouble be?" the Comtesse asked. "Francbois is a
-crafty man, especially when craft may serve his purpose. But here it
-will serve none. Were he to denounce M de Belleville, it might, in
-truth, lead to the latter's downfall, but would not enrich him. Your
-friend would be tried as a spy and----"
-
-"No, no! Say it not!" Sylvia exclaimed, with a shudder, understanding
-well enough what the next word must have been. "Say it not. Think how
-nobly, how chivalrously, he has found his way here."
-
-"It would not enrich Francbois," the Comtesse repeated; "therefore he
-has no reason to betray him."
-
-As she spoke these words, however, Sylvia knew very well that
-Francbois had not only one reason for betraying Bevill, but had very
-plainly told her that, if driven to desperation, he would undoubtedly
-betray him.
-
-Living in the same house that Sylvia was now in, since he too was a
-connection of the Van Ryks, Francbois had countless opportunities of
-pressing his suit with her, and these opportunities he did not
-neglect. And then, after he had discovered that not only was this
-Englishman, whom he hated in his boyhood, here in Liege under a false
-name and nationality but, as he had also learnt, was in the habit of
-seeing Sylvia frequently, he had added to this discovery a very strong
-suspicion that he was an English admirer, if not lover, of hers. But
-that there was any intention on their part of quitting Liege he did
-not as yet imagine. Even so, however, he knew enough.
-
-This Englishman, passing as a Frenchman, was, he admitted, handsome,
-gallant, and _debonnaire_--a man whom any woman might well love and be
-proud to love. And Sylvia, he remembered, had refused all the
-addresses that other men had attempted to pay her, including his own.
-She was ever cold, stately, and almost contemptuous of men's
-admiration. Yet now, now that this man had appeared, they had been
-much together, as his own observations had shown him--was it not
-possible that, in her frequent visits to England with her father, she
-had met this countryman of hers and learnt to love him, and that now
-he was here, not only to carry on his suit, but also to be with her in
-time of trouble? He knew too that, although Bevill had not yet entered
-Van Ryk's house, he had met Sylvia and the Comtesse on the quays and
-in the public gardens of the city. He did, indeed, know enough.
-
-Therefore, this very day, he had spoken plainly to the girl--so
-plainly that, without indulging in any actual threats, he had made her
-see clearly how much there was to fear from him if she still refused
-to listen to his protestations, his desire to obtain her hand.
-
-
-[Illustration: "This very day he had spoken plainly to the
-girl."--_p_. 513.]
-
-
-"What does he threaten, what hint at?" the Comtesse de Valorme asked
-as she listened to all that Sylvia told her; while, as she spoke,
-there was a strange look in her eyes.
-
-"He threatens nothing, yet suggests much. He said but this morning
-that a word to M. de Violaine, who is in command of the Citadel----"
-
-"Monsieur de Violaine! De Violaine! The Brigadier! Is he in command of
-the Citadel?"
-
-"Why, yes. So Monsieur Francbois said. Do you know him?"
-
-"Ay, very well, for many years. He is, like me, from the South. So! A
-hint to him. Well! What is this hint to convey? What harm is it to
-do?"
-
-"To cause Mr. Brac--M. de Belleville to be arrested as an Englishman
-passing as a Frenchman, and doubtless, in the French mind, as a spy.
-To be tried as the latter--to be executed. Ah, no, no, no!" Sylvia
-concluded. "Not that--surely not that."
-
-"Let him denounce your compatriot to M. de Violaine. Bid him do so
-when next he makes his vile suggestion. Only, to the defiance add
-this: ask him if he knows to what faith M. de Violaine belongs; ask
-him if he knows which man the Governor of the Citadel would deal
-harder with--an Englishman passing under the garb of a Frenchman, or a
-Frenchman who is----"
-
-"What?"
-
-"Ah! well, no matter for the present. Also, on second thoughts, do not
-ask him that. Instead, say: Madame de Valorme is a friend of M. de
-Belleville. He who injures him incurs her enmity. It will be enough.
-Now tell me, when do you expect to see your countryman again?"
-
-"He is coming to-night to see us both. Alas! he may not come in open
-daylight, since he recognises that it is not well for him and
-Francbois to meet here face to face. But still he would fain see you,
-since you have promised to leave the city with us, if such a thing can
-be accomplished; also he comes to tell us how stands the chance of our
-succeeding."
-
-"When does he come?"
-
-"At nightfall. Knowing that Mynheer keeps his bed of a quinsy, and
-Madame stays with him, while Francbois has gone to see his friends at
-the Jesuits' College----"
-
-"Ah! his friends at the Jesuits' College," the Comtesse repeated
-quietly.
-
-"Monsieur de Belleville will come in by the garden gate. It may be, he
-says, that he will have discovered some chance, or, at least, have
-conceived some scheme whereby we shall be enabled to leave the city
-and make our way to the Allied Forces."
-
-"Does he know my mission, the reason why I so ardently desire to see
-Lord Marlborough? Does he know why I so long to cast myself at that
-commander's feet--to beg him, to implore him on my knees to send the
-long-promised aid of England to those of our persecuted faith in
-Languedoc? To send it now--now--when France is attacked on all sides,
-when England and Holland are hemming her in with bands of steel in the
-north, when Prince Eugene is hurling his armies against her in Italy.
-For now is the time. Now! Now!"
-
-"He knows," Sylvia said, touching her friend's hand gently. "I have
-told him."
-
-"And does he know the rest? All. Have you told him that?"
-
-"Oh, do not speak of it! Do not think of it! Ah, Radegonde!"
-addressing the other by her Christian name. "Do not speak of it, I
-entreat you."
-
-"Not speak of it! Not think of it!" the Comtesse exclaimed, while as
-she did so her eyes were wet with tears, her cheeks being also as wet
-with them as leaves bedashed with rain, her whole frame being shaken
-with emotion. "As well bid me not dream of it night by night, nor let
-my existence be broken with unhappy memories. Not think of my father's
-death--my father, an old, grey-haired, feeble man!--in the dungeons of
-Nimes--my father, who, had he not thus died, would have been broken on
-the wheel. Not think of that! Nor, perhaps of my husband----"
-
-"Oh, Radegonde!"
-
-"----sent to the galleys, beaten, driven to his doom even as he sat
-lashed to the oar. He! young, gallant, an honest, God-fearing man! And
-all for what? For what? Because they and thousands like them--all good
-and true subjects of this tyrant Louis, of this priest-ridden,
-woman-ridden Louis--did but wish to worship in their own way! Not
-think of it! My God! shall I ever cease to think of it?"
-
-"Nay, do not weep, I implore you," Sylvia exclaimed. "The English will
-help; so, too, will all the Netherlands. All who think and worship as
-those in the South worship will help. And soon, soon, freedom, peace,
-must come. An end must come to all their sufferings."
-
-"Does he know all this?" the Comtesse asked again when her passionate
-sorrow had somewhat spent itself. "Does he? If not, he must do so.
-Otherwise, what will he deem me--me, a Frenchwoman seeking to reach
-Marlborough, the most hated, the most feared foe of France!"
-
-"He knows," Sylvia whispered, "and, knowing, understands all."
-
-But by now the night was near at hand. Through the great, open,
-bow-shaped window of the solid Dutch house was wafted the scent of
-countless summer flowers, the perfume of the roses, now dashed with
-the evening dews, mingling with that of many others. Also the sounds
-that summer always brings more plainly to the ears were not wanting;
-the birds were twittering in the trees ere roosting for the short
-night; from the Abbey of St Paul the solemn sounds of the great bell
-boomed softly while the silver-toned carillons joined in unison. In
-other of the city gardens close by the voices of little children could
-be heard as they played their last rounds ere going to their beds, all
-unconscious, or, at least, unheeding, in their innocence that they
-were in a beleaguered city that, if war's worst horrors rolled that
-way, might ere long be the scene of awful carnage and see its old
-streets drenched with blood.
-
-"It is the time, Sylvia," the Comtesse said, "that he should come. Is
-the gate unlocked?"
-
-"Nay, not yet. I will go and see to it." And Sylvia, passing through
-the low window and down the steps to the garden, went along the
-neatly-kept path towards where the gate was.
-
-Then, at the moment she was about to turn the key in the lock, and,
-next, to leave the solid wooden gate an inch ajar, so that, when
-Bevill came, he might push it open as he had done more than once since
-she had taken up her abode in this house, she heard a footstep outside
-in the lane--one that she had already learnt to know well enough!
-
-"Ah," she exclaimed, turning the key quickly and drawing back the
-door, while she held out her hand to Bevill a moment afterwards. "Ah!
-you have come."
-
-"To the moment," he replied, taking her outstretched hand and bending
-over it. "Did I not say that I would be here before the carillon had
-finished its chimes? And here am I! Yet--yet--almost I doubted if it
-were well for me to come to-night----"
-
-"You doubted that!" Sylvia exclaimed, while stopping on their way
-towards the house to look up at him. "You doubted if you would come!
-Knowing how we were waiting here, how we were expecting your coming!"
-
-"Ay, knowing what danger lurks near to you; to your desire and that of
-Madame de Valorme to quit Liege. Also, in a lesser degree, to me,
-though that matters not----"
-
-"That matters not!" the girl exclaimed, repeating his words again,
-while in the dusk he could see her starry eyes fixed on his--eyes that
-resembled the stars themselves gleaming through the mists of summer
-nights--"that matters not!"
-
-"Danger," he went on, unheeding, though not unobserving, "if Francbois
-knows my movements, if he knows that we meditate aught like flight
-from Liege. Have you not told me of his unwelcome desires and
-hopes--of his----?"
-
-"Hark! Stop!" Sylvia whispered, interrupting him. "Listen. There is
-another footstep in the lane. It may be he--following, tracking you.
-And the gate is open! Heavens, he is there! The footfall stops. If his
-suspicions are aroused he will halt at nothing. He will denounce you!"
-
-"Will he? We will see to that. Go back to the room, welcome him as he
-returns----"
-
-"But you? You! The danger is yours, not mine."
-
-"I am safe. I fear nothing."
-
-"Ah, yes; when he has entered you can escape, can leave by the door.
-'Tis so. Farewell until to-morrow. Farewell." And as swiftly as might
-be, the tall, graceful form of Sylvia sped back to the room while
-Bevill, crossing the grass plot, entered an arbour at the side of it.
-
-"Ha!" he said to himself. "Escape! Leave by the door! She does not
-know me yet. Escape!" and as he spoke he drew still further within the
-darkness of the arbour.
-
-Neither he nor Sylvia had been too soon in their action. Looking
-through the interstices of The vines which were trained to grow
-outside the open woodwork of the arbour, Bevill saw that Francbois was
-advancing up the path towards the steps leading to the open window of
-the old room.
-
-As he did so, however, a reflection entered his mind which caused him
-to wonder if, after all, there was any connection between Francbois'
-doing so and his own visit. The man lived here with the Van Ryks.
-Might it not be, therefore, that this was his ordinary way of
-returning home? A moment later, however, Bevill recognised that this
-could not be so. The gate was always locked inside at night; as was
-the case with himself but just now, and on former visits during the
-week, it had to be unlocked from the inside for entrance to be
-obtained.
-
-"Francbois comes this way to-night," he muttered, "because he knows,
-has seen, that I too did so!" and as he so thought he brought his sash
-a little more round and felt to discover if his sword ran smoothly in
-its sheath.
-
-Meanwhile, the other had entered through the open window of the room,
-and had found Sylvia by herself, since the Comtesse must have quitted
-it for some purpose during the time the girl had gone to unlock the
-gate. He could see that she was by herself, for the lamp, which had
-been brought in some time earlier, was turned fully up.
-
-"Mademoiselle is alone," Francbois said, though as he spoke his eyes
-were peering into the corners of the room that, in spite of the lamp,
-were in partial darkness; and also peering, as far as possible, behind
-the great Java screens. "Alone!"
-
-"Apparently," Sylvia replied in the usual indifferent tones she
-adopted towards this man. "Madame de Valorme was here a moment since."
-
-"Madame de Valorme!" Francbois echoed. "Madame de Valorme alone?"
-
-"Whom else did you expect to see?"
-
-"One whom I had good reason to suppose was here--your 'French' friend,
-Monsieur de Belleville."
-
-"Your eyes prove to you that your supposition is wrong."
-
-"Surely he has entered the house. I followed behind him on my way
-here."
-
-"He has not entered the house. That you 'followed' him I do not doubt
-And, even had he entered the house, which as I tell you he has not
-done, you are not the master of it. Also, Mynheer Van Ryk, who is, has
-bade me welcome here any whom I desire to receive."
-
-"It is incredible!" Francbois said. "Incredible. He passed down the
-lane before me. And--and--that door," pointing to one which led out of
-the room into a small library or study, "is not fast shut. And there
-is a light within."
-
-"Monsieur Francbois," Sylvia said very quietly, and now she stood
-before him drawn to her full height, stately, contemptuous, as an
-affronted queen might stand, "if you choose to believe your own
-thoughts as against what I tell you, do so. Look in that room and see
-if my 'friend,' Monsieur de Belleville, is there. Only, from the
-moment you have done so, never dare to address one word to me again.
-There," extending her arm, "is the door. Enter the room and observe
-for yourself. Afterwards, you will doubtless search the house."
-
-
-[Illustration: "'Enter the room and observe for yourself.'"--_p_.
-515.]
-
-
-Vacillating, uncertain how to decide; sure, too, that his eyes had not
-deceived him, Francbois knew not what to do. If he looked in the room
-and did not find the Englishman, then his remotest chance with Sylvia
-was gone for ever; while, if he did find him there, his recollection
-of Bevill's earlier character told him that he would have to pay a
-heavy reckoning for his curiosity. Yet, how could the man be there?
-Would Sylvia have bidden him enter the room had that been so; would
-she have bidden him do that which must stamp her as utterly untruthful
-should the Englishman be found?
-
-Still halting, not knowing what to do, he nevertheless took a step or
-two towards the library door, while observing that Sylvia's glance was
-fixed contemptuously on him; then, suddenly, he exclaimed, "I will
-know!" and advanced close to the door.
-
-At that moment it opened wide and the Comtesse de Valorme appeared.
-
-"You see," she said, speaking with withering scorn, "I am the only
-person the room contains. Now do as Sylvia suggested--search the
-house."
-
-"Monsieur Francbois need scarcely trouble so far as that," a voice
-said from the foot of the garden steps, while all turned their eyes on
-Bevill standing below. "I have heard enough to know that he seeks an
-opportunity of speaking with me. Monsieur Francbois, I pray you to
-descend. I, too, must have some talk with you. Afterwards, we can
-arrange our affairs pleasantly, I do not doubt. You understand?"
-looking at Francbois.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVI.
-
-
-Francbois, his face become suddenly ashy, as both ladies observed,
-from the moment he had heard Bevill's voice and saw its owner standing
-at the foot of the steps, nevertheless did as he was invited and went
-out to the verandah. Then, seeing that, without any further word or
-sign, the Englishman was slowly making his way towards the gate, he
-followed him. Yet once the thought came to his mind as he did so, "If
-this were not the garden of the house wherein I dwell, if those women
-were not there, how easy 'twould be--now, as he walks ahead
-disdainfully--to put him out of my path, for ever." While, as he thus
-thought, his hand itched to draw the spadroon at his side.
-
-In the room which he had left, the women were now standing at the open
-window, gazing down at the figures of the retiring men. On Sylvia's
-face there was a look of intense anxiety, of nervousness--an
-expression that, on the face of a woman of less heroic mould, might
-have been construed into one of fear. But, though this look was not,
-truly, one that depicted fear, the agitation that possessed her whole
-being was the outcome of fear. Not for herself--that could never
-be!--but for him--him--the man whose every path, every footstep, was
-day by day and hour by hour becoming more environed and beset by
-danger.
-
-"And the bitterness of it all is," she thought to herself, "that the
-danger need never have arisen. I was safe. Short of this city being
-besieged by the English and fired by grenades or bombarded, or sacked
-and destroyed by the French in their rage, naught could harm me. Yet,
-to protect me, to shield me from harm, as he deemed in his chivalry,
-danger surrounds his every movement, his whole existence. How--
-how--shall I therefore save him, how repay him in turn? If we
-cannot leave this city, if I cannot save him by the pretence, the
-make-believe, that he is saving me--oh! what shall become of him?
-What?"
-
-"They have passed out through the gate," the Comtesse said at this
-moment. "They----"
-
-"What! is he going to kill him? To force him into a duel?"
-
-"'Twere well he should do so," the Comtesse de Valorme said in a hard,
-dry voice that sounded strangely in Sylvia's ears, or would have done
-so had she not been too agitated to observe the tone of the other.
-"Very well it would."
-
-"Radegonde! How can you speak so of one allied to you, one dwelling
-beneath the same roof as you? He has not harmed you; he is only
-dangerous in so far that we fear the harm he may do."
-
-"While Francbois and Monsieur de Belleville inhabit this city there is
-no safety for your friend. I know Francbois. He is treacherous, subtle
-as a snake, and--and--it is much to his interests to have M. de
-Belleville removed from--well, from your companionship."
-
-"Why?" the girl asked, looking at her companion. "Why?" Though, as she
-spoke, there came to her face the rose-blush that had but recently
-quitted it.
-
-"You should guess why as easily as I. M. de Belleville," the Comtesse
-continued quietly, "is the representative of your guardian. Do you
-imagine that, holding this office, he would look with approval on
-Francbois' desires to--to--ah! you know what he desires."
-
-"If," said Sylvia, speaking now with her usual calm, "neither my
-guardian nor Monsieur de Belleville had any existence, M. Francbois'
-desires would be no nearer their attainment. Ah," she exclaimed
-suddenly, "what is that? Is it the clash of swords? Listen!"
-
-"I heard nothing. The night is tranquil; there is no sound. Sylvia,
-you are overwrought, overstrung. What do you fear? Such as Francbois
-cannot slay one such as he, except by treachery, by betrayal."
-
-"If I fear aught it is that he should slay Francbois. I would not have
-a gallant gentleman stain his sword with the blood of such as that man
-is. I would not have Monsieur de Belleville bring fresh trouble, fresh
-risks of danger on himself."
-
-That Sylvia was, indeed, overwrought must have been the case since,
-undoubtedly, she could have heard as yet no clash of swords proceeding
-from the spot which the two men had reached some minutes before.
-
-When Bevill Bracton, followed by Francbois, had passed through the
-gate giving from the garden into the lane, he had continued for some
-paces until, arriving beneath the foliage of a tree that protruded
-over the wall of another property, he halted and, turning round, faced
-the other. Then he said:
-
-"Monsieur Francbois, you remember me. We were at school years ago at
-the Lycee Saint Philippe. You have not forgotten?"
-
-
-[Illustration: "'Monsieur Francbois, you remember me.'"--_p_. 553.]
-
-
-"I have forgotten nothing. You are an Englishman. Your name
-is--_peste!_--I--I know it, yet for the moment it has escaped me.
-Nevertheless, I shall recall it."
-
-"It would be best that you should not endeavour to recall it," Bevill
-said, looking down on the man--and there was light enough for
-Francbois to see that the glance was a stern, determined one. "Also
-that you do not intrude on my affairs. If you do so, it will be
-dangerous for you."
-
-"Dangerous for me!" the other exclaimed, with a contemptuous laugh.
-"For me! On my life, monsieur, it is not I who stand in danger here.
-Liege is dominated by the French, and I am a Frenchman. You are an
-Englishman. Your life is not worth a fico if that is once known."
-
-"Short of you and what you may do, it cannot be known. Now listen to
-me. I am here in the garb of a private man, desiring not to draw my
-sword either in the disputes between your country and mine, or in
-personal quarrel. But that sword lies against my side ever ready to
-leap from its scabbard--as it will if I am thwarted in what I have set
-myself to do; if I am betrayed or falsely denounced by anyone--by you,
-since there is no other here who can do so. Ponder therefore on
-whether it will profit you to thwart, to betray me."
-
-"_Ohe!_" Francbois exclaimed in a light and airy tone, which was
-probably but a poor outward sign of what his inward feelings were. "If
-it comes to drawing swords--ay, and crossing them too--there are
-others who can do as much. We Frenchmen know something of the
-swordsman's art. Witness how you English cross the Channel to take
-lessons in it from us."
-
-"That is true. I myself took those lessons, and I have profited by
-them."
-
-"Ah I it may be so," Francbois said, though the recollection of this
-fact, which for the moment he had forgotten, did not add much to his
-equanimity. "But as for the betrayal! Once betrayed, a man has little
-chance of avenging himself on his betrayer. The rat in the cage cannot
-bite his captor."
-
-"He can bite him before he is caged. Now listen to me, Francbois. If I
-supposed to-night that you came into that house with a view to
-betraying me, you would never return to it. I know, however, why you
-followed me to it, why you were resolved to discover if I was within
-it. I know that you pester Mademoiselle Thorne with your
-addresses----"
-
-"And I know," Francbois exclaimed, stung beyond endurance at the
-contemptuous tones of the other, "that you are an English lover of
-hers; that you have come here to be by her side, to endeavour, if it
-may be so, to remove her from Liege to your own land."
-
-"It is false. I am no lover of hers. Except when she was a child of
-ten I have never set eyes on her until I did so here a week ago."
-
-"It is very strange," Francbois sneered. "You found your way, made
-your entrance, to the Weiss Haus with ease. From the balcony
-Mademoiselle Thorne extended you a gracious welcome, bade you enter.
-Is it the habit for English donzelles to extend such cordial greetings
-to every passer-by? Do----"
-
-But he stopped, seeing that he had said too much, for he had gone too
-far.
-
-For the moment Bevill Bracton said nothing, yet his action was,
-indeed, louder than any words could have been. His hand drew forth his
-sword, lightly he ran the glittering blade across his left cuff; then,
-pointing with his left hand to the weapon by Francbois' side, he
-uttered one word--the word "Draw!"
-
-"What if I refuse?" Francbois asked.
-
-"Your fate will be the same, therefore you must defend yourself. You
-rogue," he went on through his teeth, "you dare to make aspersions on
-my countrywoman! You dare--you!--such as you!--to raise your eyes to
-Sylvia Thorne and, to make yourself safe with her, as you suppose you
-can do, you intend to denounce me to the French here. So be it. Only
-there shall be no betrayal. Either you remove me from your path now
-and for ever--now, this very instant--or I put an end to all your
-hopes and all your intended treacheries."
-
-"You had best beware," Francbois said, and Bevill perceived that there
-was a laugh in his voice--a laugh that was half jeer, half sneer. Also
-he observed, and the observation surprised him, that there was no fear
-in the man. If he was treacherous and crafty--a villain--at least he
-was a bold one.
-
-"Far best," Francbois continued. "I have crossed the Alps in my time.
-Monsieur may have heard of the _stoccala lunga_ and the _botte
-secrete_ and other strange passes taught in Italy----"
-
-"Ay," said Bevill, "as well as the _botte des laches!_ I will essay
-them. Doubtless it is the latter I have most to fear. Monsieur I am
-your servant. _En garde_."
-
-And now, through the calmness of the night, the two women must have
-heard--sorely they heard--a sound not often familiar to women's ears,
-yet one that, once heard, especially in such days, could scarcely be
-misunderstood, even if not fully recognised.
-
-A sound not unlike the hiss of the hooded snake as it glides towards
-its victims--or, as one of those old Italian fencing-masters has
-described it, "water hissing on hot iron." Also they must have heard
-the "tic-tac" that steel makes as it grates against steel--a sound
-that is not noise. And once, also, they must have heard a voice, the
-voice of Francbois, ejaculate, "Ah!"
-
-"They are engaged," the Comtesse whispered hurriedly to Sylvia.
-"They----"
-
-"Engaged!" the girl replied. "He and that man! Oh, Radegonde, hasten!
-Come! Come, ere it is too late."
-
-"Ay," Madame de Valorme exclaimed, "Francbois is a master of fence.
-Monsieur de Belleville's life is too good for such as he to take."
-
-Then, together, they sped down the garden path and through the gate
-into the lane.
-
-
-
-But now the scraping of the steel had ceased, while the obscurity of
-the night beneath the overhanging tree was such that they could
-scarcely perceive the figures of the two men. Yet that they were there
-they knew. The darkness of the lane could not disguise their presence.
-
-"Stop!" the Comtesse said, advancing towards the deeper gloom that
-stood out in that darkness and testified to, at least, the figure of
-one man. "Stop, I command you. Monsieur de Belleville, hold your hand.
-Francbois, if you injure him, you are lost!"
-
-While uttering these sentences in a clear voice, though in a somewhat
-incoherent manner, she, followed by Sylvia, reached the spot where the
-men were.
-
-That Bevill was uninjured the Comtesse and Sylvia recognised at once.
-He was standing upright in the middle of the path between the hedges,
-and in his hand he held his sword, point downwards to the earth; on
-which Sylvia murmured, "Thank Heaven above!" as she recognised this to
-be the case.
-
-As for Francbois, he, too, was standing upright, only his sword was
-not in his hand; and now both ladies heard Bevill say:
-
-"As for your _lungas_ and _bottes_, Monsieur Francbois, truly they are
-not wonderful. A somewhat strong wrist and a trick of disengaging has
-defeated them. Pick up your weapon and sheathe it: we will renew the
-matter elsewhere."
-
-"Nay," the Comtesse said, "you will not renew it. I," she continued,
-"have that which should render Emile Francbois harmless. Come," she
-said now, turning to the other. "Came, follow me some steps farther
-down the lane. I must speak with you, and at once. Come," she said
-again, and this time she spoke in a tone that plainly showed she
-intended to be obeyed--a tone that would have required no great effort
-of imagination on a listener's part to cause him to suppose that a
-disobedient dog was being spoken to.
-
-"You are not hurt?" Sylvia asked softly, as she stood alone with
-Bevill and looked up at him through the density of the night--a
-density that now, however, the swift rising of the moon was
-dispersing. "Oh! I pray not."
-
-"In no way," Bracton replied. "He plays well, yet his defence is weak
-in the extreme--and it may be that the darkness was my friend. But,
-Sylvia," forgetting his courteous deference for the moment, yet
-observing, as he recalled himself, that either she had not remarked
-his utterance of her name, or heeded it not, "but I have left him
-free--free for harm, for evil."
-
-"I think not. It would appear the Comtesse has some hold over him,
-knows something that may keep him silent; yet, nevertheless----"
-
-"Yes--nevertheless?"
-
-"We--we must go. Escape! I--we," she went on, speaking tremulously,
-"are not safe. I am afeard."
-
-"Afeard? You? Yet you have told me the French, even though the worst
-befall, will not hurt a woman."
-
-"I have changed my thoughts. It is--a--woman's privilege to do so. I
-would put leagues and leagues betwixt myself--betwixt us--and Liege:
-betwixt us and all this land ravaged by war and contending armies.
-I--I--cannot bear to remain here longer. In truth, I fear--I am sick
-with fear."
-
-Remarking Sylvia's strange agitation, an agitation so strangely
-new-born, so different from the calm indifference and absence of all
-apprehension which she had testified when first he reached her, Bevill
-could not but wonder at the change that had come over her. For now she
-was but in little more danger--if any--than she had been a week past.
-There were, it is true, the rumours that the Allies were drawing near,
-that Kaiserswoerth had fallen to them, that Nimeguen had either done so
-too or was about to do so, that Marlborough was hastening to take
-chief command of all the forces. Yet what mattered this! She, like
-every other woman in all the land, in every hemmed-in, beleaguered
-town and city, was safe from personal violence--safe as a child
-itself.
-
-"And she knew it," he thought, as he gazed at the outlines of Sylvia's
-face, now plainly visible in the light cast by the moon through the
-leafy branches of the great tree. "She knew it, and she knows it
-still. What is it she fears? What fear has come to her?"
-
-Suddenly he asked:
-
-"Is it Francbois you fear?"
-
-For a moment Sylvia did not answer, turning her head away instead, but
-saying in a whisper a moment later, "Yes."
-
-"And I have let him live--live, when I might have slain him without
-effort," while adding the next instant, "How can he harm you? No man
-can force a woman to listen to his plaint, to accede to it. And I--am
-I not by your side?"
-
-"Ah, yes," she whispered again, while murmuring next through closed
-lips some words he did not catch--words that almost appeared to sound
-as though they were the words "Knight" and "Sentinel."
-
-After which, speaking more clearly, Sylvia went on, "Still I would
-fain depart. Ah! let us go."
-
-"In spite of my protection! Through fear of Francbois?"
-
-"In fear of Francbois--yes," looking straight into his eyes, while
-adding inwardly, "Fear of him--for you."
-
-"But Liege, the exit from Liege, is forbidden to all except the
-French, since all others would avail themselves of the opportunity of
-divulging the disposition of their forces round the city and in the
-city also. It is impossible to go."
-
-"Yet you are French--are supposed to be French. You have the means
-wherewith to be De Belleville, the _attache_, or Le Blond, the
-mousquetaire. You can baffle suspicion with your knowledge of their
-tongue, with your accent."
-
-"Nay; I could not baffle a true Frenchwoman, the Comtesse, whatever I
-may do with these Netherlanders. Neither could I deceive a
-mousquetaire, and Francbois knows I am an Englishman. I will not go. I
-will not expose you--and Madame de Valorme to the danger of travelling
-with me the few miles necessary, to the danger of endeavouring to pass
-out of Liege."
-
-As he uttered these words it seemed to him that there came a low, yet
-swiftly suppressed moan from the girl's lips, and, looking down
-wonderingly at her while not understanding--for had she not said that,
-come what might, all women were safe in Liege--he was about to ask her
-why his determination moved her so much, when the Comtesse and
-Francbois returned to where they stood.
-
-"Emile will not divulge your nationality," the former said now to
-Bevill. "He--well, I have persuaded him. Is it not so!" addressing
-Francbois.
-
-"Monsieur de Belleville may rely on me. He--he--misunderstood my
-intentions," Francbois replied, holding out his hand to Bevill.
-
-Owing possibly to the darkness, the young man failed, however, to see
-that hand, whereon, a moment later, its owner allowed it to drop to
-his side.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVII.
-
-
-At this time the excitement in Liege among those who were shut up in
-it and also among the French who lay around it, as well as in the
-citadel and Chartreuse, had become intense. For the latter knew by
-despatches from their field-marshals and generals, and the former from
-those who, in spite of the besiegers' vigilance, still managed to pass
-in and out of the city--when they were not caught and promptly hanged
-at one of the gates--that the Allies were more or less triumphant in
-the engagements that took place with their foes. Athlone had already
-defeated detachments of the French in several encounters;
-Kaiserswoerth, if not already fallen into our hands, must undoubtedly
-soon fall; Nimeguen, the frontier town of the United Provinces, was in
-the same condition, and Venloo was in a very similar one.
-
-Yet all heard--the French with anxiety, and the whole of the
-inhabitants of Holland and the Netherlands with joy--of something
-more. The Earl of Marlborough had undoubtedly arrived and after a
-considerable discussion--in which such various and remarkably diverse
-personages as the King of Prussia, the Archduke Charles of Austria,
-the Elector of Hanover, and the Duke of Zell, including, of all
-persons in Europe, Prince George of Denmark, supported by his wife,
-Queen Anne, had all aspired to the commandership-in-chief--he had been
-appointed to that high post.
-
-Marlborough, as the French very well knew--and the knowledge of which
-they did not disguise--had never yet lost any skirmish, battle, or
-siege at which he had commanded. His present foes could not know that,
-during the whole of his long military campaign in the future he was
-never to lose one solitary skirmish, battle, or siege, and was to
-stand out amongst the great commanders of all time as the single
-instance of a soldier who had never experienced defeat.
-
-The fact of this general's presence near Liege, since now he was
-marching on Kaiserswoerth to assist Athlone, was amply sufficient to
-induce the French to tighten their hold over all places at present
-under their domination. For their marshals and generals remembered him
-as colonel of the English regiment in the service of France, as well
-as what he had done in the Palatinate under Turenne; their King at
-this time, growing old and timorous, remembered that once again
-Marlborough had offered his sword to France, had asked for the command
-of a French regiment--and had been refused. Now Le Roi Soleil
-remembered that refusal, and recognised that it had raised up against
-him and his country the most brilliant and powerful enemy France had
-ever had to contend with.
-
-Consequently, in Liege as elsewhere, no living soul who was not French
-could quit the city except by cunning or strategy; it was useless to
-attempt to do so. Also, pickets patrolled the streets day and night,
-sentries were posted on the walls with orders to shoot any who could
-not give the password; boats, filled with armed men, patrolled the
-river, making inspection of all and every craft upon it; watch fires
-burned around. On the other hand, none were molested nor their houses
-visited; trade was carried on as far as possible in the city, though
-only such trade as was necessary for provisioning the inhabitants and
-supplying such food as was already inside the walls, since nothing
-could now enter them.
-
-"You see," said Bevill to Sylvia one morning at this period, which was
-now the middle of June, as they talked over all these things, "how
-impossible any attempt to leave Liege would be. We could not get as
-far as one of the gates without being stopped and subjected to
-rigorous examination."
-
-"If it were not for us," the girl said, looking at him, "you could
-doubtless do so.
-
-"What!" he exclaimed, looking at her in turn. "What! You suggest that?
-That I, who came here to enable you to leave this place, should now
-consult only my own safety and go away again while leaving you behind?
-Oh!"
-
-"Ah, forgive me, but--but--I do so fear for you. For us there is no
-actual danger; I am an inhabitant of the city; the Comtesse de Valorme
-is a Frenchwoman. But you--oh, it is terrible--terrible!"
-
-While, as Sylvia spoke, there came to her mind another thought to
-which she quickly gave utterance.
-
-"If it is dangerous," she said, "to attempt to leave Liege, is it more
-so to you than remaining here? Once outside you would, at least, be
-free from the treachery of Francbois."
-
-"The treachery of Francbois! Do you still fear that?"
-
-"Yes. No matter what hold the Comtesse may have over him--and that she
-has one is undoubted--if he wishes to betray you he will do so."
-
-"Yet why wish to do so?"
-
-"Ah!" Sylvia exclaimed, and then was suddenly silent, her eyes
-lowered.
-
-For how could she tell him that which she knew must be the motive of
-any treacherous act Francbois might perform; how tell him that which,
-she thought, he should have divined for himself? She could not tell
-Bevill that Francbois declared him to be his rival, the obstacle to
-his hopes with her; that he believed that they had met often in
-England, that they loved one another.
-
-But still she thought he should have understood. Meanwhile, though
-this divination came not, as yet, to Bevill's mind, there sprang
-suddenly to it a light, a revelation.
-
-He saw, he understood, that it was his safety she alone
-considered--not her own.
-
-He recognised the nobility of her character, the self-sacrifice she
-was ready to make in being willing to quit a place where, if the
-discomfort was great, her personal security was almost certain, so
-that by acting thus the one chance of his safety, the one road to
-it--if any such road existed--was open to him. And in recognising
-this he also recognised another thing--a thing that he had not dreamt
-of, not suspected in himself, but that he could no longer doubt
-possessed him. He understood that, from the first, he had been drawn
-towards this girl not more by her beauty and stately grace than by
-her womanly attributes, her lack of thought for herself, her noble
-self-respect and her personification of honest, upright, English
-womanhood. This English womanhood, valiant, self-contained, was
-fearless through consciousness of lacking every attribute that could
-attract evil towards her; strong because girt with woman's strongest
-armour--innocence.
-
-And now he knew that, day by day, he had been gradually, though
-unperceived by himself, learning to love her; he knew that as she had
-said those words. "I do so fear for you," and not only had said them,
-but had testified to their truth by the anxiety for his safety that
-she showed, he was no longer beginning, learning to love her, but
-_had_ learned to love her.
-
-"What shall I do?" he asked himself as they sat on this summer day in
-her host's garden. "How act? Now is no time to tell her what has
-sprung full grown into my heart. Honour bids me be silent, and I must
-obey. No word, no plea, must come from me until she stands free and
-unfettered in her, in our, land. I must draw no interest, no credit,
-from having placed myself here in a position of danger on her behalf,
-'specially since the danger is not to her--but to me. That may procure
-me her esteem and regard; it must not be used as a means whereby to
-win her love."
-
-Therefore he did not repeat his question as to why Francbois should
-wish to betray him, but, when he had concluded the above reflections,
-contented himself with saying:
-
-"I must not, will not, go hence. Since you aver there is no danger to
-you here, so shall there be none to me. I promised the Earl that I
-would enable you to quit Liege; seeing there is no need nor call for
-you to go, I remain also."
-
-"You misunderstand me," she said. "The danger may be small, but the
-existence is unbearable. I do most earnestly wish to go, to attempt to
-reach England; yet I know. I feel--it is borne in on me--that if I
-attempt to do so, to reach the allied forces or the coast in your
-company, I shall bring harm to you; and--and--oh!" she said, "I could
-not endure that. But by yourself alone you may pass safely. Oh, go,
-go, go!"
-
-"It is impossible. No more can I pass out alone than with you and the
-Comtesse."
-
-"What is to be done?" Sylvia almost wailed.
-
-"We can stay here. Here, where I am in no danger----"
-
-"Not from Francbois!" she exclaimed, recalling again to her mind that
-which Bevill had undoubtedly not dreamt of--the fear that Francbois
-deemed him his rival and would stop at nothing to remove him from his
-path. "Not here," she went on, "where any stranger who enters the
-'Gouden Leeuw' may chance to recognise you."
-
-"It is improbable; yet, even so, I can leave that hostel."
-
-"But where can you go? Here you would be welcome in the garb of one
-who was of much assistance to Madame de Valorme, as one who is my
-friend, my would-be protector; yet--there is Francbois to contend
-with. While, if you choose another inn, the danger would be as great
-as at the 'Gouden Leeuw.'"
-
-As Sylvia uttered these words she saw by Bevill's face that some fresh
-idea had sprung to his mind, that he was thinking deeply.
-
-"What is it?" she asked. "What?"
-
-For a moment he did not reply, but sat with his eyes fixed on hers,
-then suddenly he asked: "You have said that I can escape alone; and I
-know, I feel as sure as you yourself, that together we cannot escape.
-But what if----"
-
-"Yes, yes," she whispered, stirred to excitement at his words.
-
-"What if I should go alone, and you and the Comtesse go together, we
-meeting outside the French lines?"
-
-"Ah, yes. That way! Yes, yes! What more? Tell me. Oh, tell me!"
-
-Still speaking slowly, deliberately, so that she understood that he
-was thinking deeply as he spoke, that he was weighing carefully each
-word as it fell from his lips, he said:
-
-"Your house is now deserted. There is no servitor there?"
-
-"None," she answered, "excepting only the gardener, the old man you
-saw. He dwells in a little cottage some distance behind. What is your
-plan?"
-
-"This. It may be best that I withdraw from the 'Gouden Leeuw.'
-I--I can leave it at dusk, as though with the intention of passing out
-of the city. The people of the house deem me a Frenchman, and
-therefore hate me. They will not regard my departure as strange;
-while, if it were well to confide in them, they would not betray me.
-It was so with the landlord at Antwerp who, in truth, saved me. It
-might be--would be so here, if needed. The French are their
-oppressors; they look to the English to save them from the French."
-
-"And afterwards?" Sylvia asked almost breathlessly. "Afterwards?"
-
-"I should not leave the city--then; but if, instead, I might find
-shelter in your house for some night or so----"
-
-"Yet how will you live with none to minister to your wants? How
-support your horse?"
-
-"I must confide in the gardener. He, like the rest here, is heart and
-soul for us, for the English. As for what remains to do, there shall
-be no light in the house at night, and I will lie close and snug all
-day. Thus Francbois will be deluded into the thought that I am gone.
-If he has hoped to gain aught by my presence here, he will soon learn
-that he has missed the mark."
-
-"And for us--for Radegonde and myself? What shall we do? She is a
-Frenchwoman, armed with all passes necessary; but I am an
-Englishwoman, although resident in Liege. It may be they would not
-harm me here, even if the worst comes to the worst--if the Allies
-besiege the town, if the French are all driven into it; yet, since I
-am English, neither will they let me go forth, fearing what
-information I might convey outside."
-
-Again reflecting for a moment, while still his eyes rested on the
-soft, clear beauty of the girl whom now he knew he loved, though, in
-truth, he was not at this moment thinking more of that beauty than of
-how he might contrive that he and she should escape together out of
-this city, he was silent. Then he said:
-
-"The Comtesse is free to go or stay as pleases her. They will not
-prevent her from doing either. Yet her domestics remain; they cannot
-go. If she is persistent in reaching Marlborough or Athlone, she
-cannot travel accompanied by that company. She is in the heart of war,
-she will be surrounded by troops of all denominations. If she goes,
-she must go unaccompanied or almost unaccompanied."
-
-"She is very resolute. She will go. If only to throw herself at the
-feet of our great generalissimo and plead for succour for those in the
-South."
-
-"Accompanied by one maid, or companion, or attendant, she would pass
-unnoticed; while I, dressed in more sober clothes than these I wear,
-might pass as follower--as a humble servant from the South. Thus
-should I risk less chance of detection from any tone or trick of
-voice."
-
-"Ah!" Sylvia exclaimed, again stirred to excitement as Bevill unfolded
-his ideas. "But the attendant, the companion?"
-
-"Why, yes, the attendant," he replied. "And would you disdain to play
-that part? Could you bring yourself for a few days, one day or two at
-most, to sink yourself and your dignity----"
-
-
-[Illustration: "Springing to her feet and with her blood on
-fire"--_p_. 559.]
-
-
-"Ah, ah!" the girl exclaimed, springing to her feet and with her blood
-on fire--quicksilver--now at the scheme his suggestions unfolded
-before her, at the prospect of safety--for him, above all for
-him!--that they opened up. "My dignity! Ah, it shall be done! At once!
-Yet, no," she went on; "not at once. It cannot yet be done; there are
-precautions to be taken."
-
-"What precautions?"
-
-"That you should have safe entry to my house; also, be safe in it. And
-yet," she added regretfully, "you will be so solitary and alone."
-
-"It will not matter, so long as I find the means for our escape; yet
-what other precautions are needed?"
-
-"Above all, that of your safety, since 'tis you alone who stand in
-danger; yet, still, some other precautions too. The Comtesse's
-following are all bestowed at the 'Kroon,' there being no place for
-them here. They must be warned to hold their peace until the Comtesse
-returns, as she may do--alone. And, further, there is that firebrand,
-Francbois. He cannot have the dust thrown in his eyes in one day. He
-must not know that, as you are gone, so, too, are we; or that we are
-going too. For that would arouse his suspicions once more, and
-suspicion with him would lead to deadly action. Also I must see old
-Karl, and bid him leave open a door in the Weiss Haus and in the
-stable too, and--and provide sustenance for you. Our knight," she
-added softly, "must not die for want of nourishment."
-
-"You think of all--of all others but yourself," Bevill murmured.
-
-"Ah, no! I think only that he who risks his life for me should have
-that life cared for by me." After which, since perhaps she did not
-desire that this portion of the subject should be pursued, she
-continued: "When do you purpose putting your plan in action? When will
-you commence seeking shelter in what will be but a dark, gloomy
-refuge?"
-
-"At once--the sooner the better. If Karl can be warned by you to-day,
-then I will go to-night. If danger threatens from Francbois, it will
-not grow less by being given time to grow and thrive."
-
-At this Sylvia was herself silent for a moment, as though wrapt in
-meditation. Then slowly she said:
-
-"It may be best--very well it may. Francbois is away from home to-day;
-he sleeps sometimes at the Jesuit College----"
-
-"The Jesuit College? Is he a Jesuit?"
-
-"He may be, so far as a layman can be one, if that is possible. But I
-do not know. At least, he is greatly their friend, and is, Madame de
-Valorme thinks or knows, used by them for their purposes. It is in
-this that she has some hold over him which may keep him silent. The
-French do not love them."
-
-"And he is away from this portion of the city to-night?"
-
-"Yes."
-
-"So be it. To-night is the night of nights for me. If I can enter the
-Weiss Haus after dark, I will do so. I do but wait your word."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVIII.
-
-
-The Weiss Haus lay that night beneath heavy black clouds that rolled
-up from the west in threatening masses, and, of a surety, foretold
-rain ere morning. Also there was the feeling in the air of coming
-rain, of some storm that was swiftly approaching, or rather was close
-at hand. The earth of the flower beds exuded a damp, moist odour, the
-perfume from the flowers themselves--many of them tropical plants
-brought from far-off Dutch possessions--was now a faint, sickly one
-which spoke of what was near, while the leaves of the trees, after
-hanging lifeless for some minutes, would then suddenly rustle with a
-quivering noise as a cool, wet wind swept through them.
-
-But now, gradually, the clouds, edged with an opal shade which hinted
-that, from afar off, the late moon was rising behind them, banked
-themselves into thicker and thicker masses, while from them fell some
-few drops of rain--the heralds of a coming deluge. At this time, too,
-the darkness all round the square, white house became more profound,
-so that the mansion looked like some great, white stone gleaming in a
-setting of ebony. Under the trees which bordered a great drive that
-swept round the Weiss Haus the darkness was still more impenetrable,
-and was so dense and thick that here nothing could be perceptible
-against the deep obscurity unless it, too, was white or gleaming.
-
-Yet one thing there was that nevertheless glinted occasionally from
-out the gloom--a thing that only those accustomed to deciphering such
-signs would have recognised as the startled glare of an eye; and that
-not the eye of a human being, but of an animal--an animal made more
-nervous than was natural to it by the presence of the approaching
-storm and also by the deep muttering of the thunder.
-
-"She will neigh in a moment," a man holding the creature's bridle said
-to himself, while drawing off his cloak as he did so, and whispering
-soothingly to La Rose, since it was she. After which he placed the
-cloak over her head. "That must not be," he continued. "This house is
-deserted by everyone. A horse's presence here would tell any who might
-be about that something strange is happening."
-
-Bevill led La Rose now towards where he knew the stables were
-placed--towards where, also, he knew a door would be open, since
-Sylvia had told him an hour or so ago that the old servitor had been
-warned of what was to be done; and, in spite of the mare shivering all
-over in her nervousness at the approaching storm, he managed to induce
-her to enter them. Arrived there, his hands told him that the manger
-was full of fodder and the rack above well filled with hay, as was
-also the bucket with water; and then, having eased her of the saddle
-and bridle and replaced the latter by a halter, he pondered as to
-whether he should leave her or not. The key was in the stable door, he
-had discovered, so that he could secure the mare from harm--if harm
-should threaten--yet, should she neigh in terror at the storm, her
-presence would be known, and, perhaps, his also.
-
-Suddenly he came to the determination to remain with her until the
-storm had passed. The night was cool now, it was true, yet the stable
-was warm, and it was well littered down. In his earlier campaigning
-days he had slept in worse places than such as this. To resolve his
-doubts, at this moment there came a vivid flash of lightning, a
-terrific crash of thunder broke over the spot, and a moment later he
-heard the rain falling in a deluge, while La Rose whimpered and moaned
-and gave signs of neighing.
-
-Standing by her head, stroking her soft muzzle, whispering to her, he
-contrived, however, to soothe the creature so that, at least, she did
-not neigh, while, staying by her till at last the storm had rolled
-away, he contrived to reduce her to calmness--such calmness, indeed,
-that at last he felt her neck drooping over the manger and knew that
-she was feeding.
-
-"But still I will not leave her," he reflected. "Who can tell but that
-another storm may follow swift upon the one now gone; also, if by any
-chance I have been tracked from the 'Gouden Leeuw,' if it is known
-that I am here, what would an enemy's first act be? To prevent my
-further progress! To injure the one thing that can carry me to safety,
-that can alone enable me to assist Sylvia and the Comtesse."
-
-Whereupon, since the precautions that he, with every soldier, had long
-learnt to take as regards his charger were well remembered, he lay
-down now upon the straw in the next stall--so that he might be well
-out of the reach of La Rose's heels should she become again
-excited--and prepared to pass the night there, knowing that his voice
-would be sufficient to soothe her.
-
-In spite, however, of the fact that the mare was now quite tranquil,
-except that once he heard her hoofs stamping in the straw and once
-observed that she was drinking from her bucket, he could not sleep,
-his thoughts being much occupied with two out of many things. The
-principal of which things was that, by the blessing of heaven, it
-might be granted to him to lead this girl in safety back to their
-own land; another the love that had sprung into his heart for her;
-while still there was a further thought, a thought that was truly a
-fear--the fear that, much as he had now come to love Sylvia, there
-might be no respondent love in her heart for him.
-
-"Gratitude, yes!" he said to himself. "That is already there;
-also, it may be, a tender hope, a gentle dread for me and of my
-successful issue out of the conditions I have surrounded myself with.
-But--love? Ah! how shall I know? Her calmness, her dignity will give
-no sign that will help me on my way to the knowledge I desire; while,
-when the time comes for me to speak, what will her answer be? 'Tis
-well that that time is not yet, not now, since were it so my fears of
-failure would so much unnerve me that I should also fail in all else I
-have to do."
-
-One other thought arose, however, in his mind and set him wondering at
-a subtle change that had taken possession of him--a change caused by a
-great desire that now triumphed over what he could not but deem at
-this time a lesser one.
-
-He recognised that, strong as had been his hopes that his present
-undertaking should lead him back to the calling from which he had been
-wrongfully cast out, those hopes were now but secondary, even if as
-near as secondary, to a greater, a more supreme one--the hope that he
-would win the love of Sylvia Thorne, win her for his wife.
-
-And as he so thought it may be that he reproached himself. For he was
-a man, and, being one, knew that he should set his career, his honour
-in the world's eyes, before a woman's love!
-
-As thus be became immersed in such reflections as these--reflections
-that, he doubted not, had driven away all hope of slumber for the
-present--an incident occurred that instantly dispelled those musings,
-that stirred him once more into a man of action.
-
-Upon the deep tranquillity of the night--since now the storm had quite
-passed and, as he could see through the mica panes of the stable
-window, the late risen moon was shining clear in the heavens--he heard
-a door close violently within the Weiss Haus--close violently while
-sending out into the silence a heavy, dull thud such as a noise made
-in a shut-up house sends forth. As that noise reverberated he heard La
-Rose's halter shaken suddenly as by a start, and a tremulous whinny
-issue from her.
-
-Quieting her with a gentle word as he rose from the position in which
-he had been lying, and going towards her as he spoke, Bevill's
-attention was still strained to the utmost for any further sounds.
-Yet, now, all was still, the night was undisturbed by any noise. Even
-from the warehouses some three hundred yards off, which were filled
-with French troops, there came nothing to tell of their presence.
-
-"Can my ears have been deceived?" Bevill mused. "And if not deceived,
-how has that door closed thus? Ere I brought the mare from under the
-trees I had made sure that the one at the back of the house was
-closed, though unlocked, and it was not that door which shut so
-violently, but one within. Why did it so? The wind has died down long
-since; no current of air through any open window--if there were any
-such, which is not to be supposed--could have closed it. What is best
-to do?"
-
-An instant later he had determined on his action. He would enter the
-house and discover what had caused so strange an occurrence on a night
-that was so perfectly calm as this one was now. It might be, it was
-true, an occurrence for which he would be able to discover an
-absolutely plain explanation; but if it were not so, then it were best
-he determined the cause of it.
-
-He spoke a few words to La Rose even as he drew his sword, intending
-to carry it bare in his hand, and while hoping that Providence might
-see fit to prevent her becoming frightened and, by her fears, calling
-attention to her presence. Then he went forth from the stable door,
-locking it behind him and dropping the key into his pocket.
-
-As he did so, he heard the clock in the Abbey church strike three, as
-well as the sound of the other clocks striking one after the other,
-and, also, the chiming of the carillons on the calm night air.
-
-"It is the time," he said to himself, "when those who break into the
-houses of others seek to do so. It may, in truth, be some such as
-they, or else an enemy, seeking me. Well," through his teeth, "it it
-be Francbois, he shall find me--only, when he does so, let him beware.
-If 'tis he, no _botte_ shall save him this time; and there is no
-Comtesse now to help him."
-
-A moment later he stood outside the door at the back of the Weiss
-Haus--the door of which he had said to himself a moment since that "it
-was closed though unlocked."
-
-But now he discovered that it was no more closed than locked. Some
-hand had opened it to enter the house, since even the wind could not
-lift a latch--the hand of someone who had entered the house and
-forgotten to shut the door behind him. Unless it had been purposely
-left open, thereby to afford a means of easy exit!
-
-"And still it was not this door that shut with such a report," Bevill
-reflected, "but one above," and slowly he made his way into the
-interior of the house, while resolving to discover and make sure of
-who the intruder was. Because all shutters had been close fastened ere
-Sylvia left her house, and, discharging her servitors for a time at
-least, gave afterwards the care of the place into the hands of old
-Karl, the darkness was intense.
-
-Bevill did not know, therefore, where he was, though guessing by aid
-of his knowledge of the mansion that he was now in the domestic
-offices. Consequently he decided that, should he be enabled to
-progress further without interruption from closed doors--or from an
-enemy--he would ere long reach the hall. And then his way would be
-clear before him. He knew the manner in which the stairs mounted to
-the floor above.
-
-He went on now, running his hand along the wall of the room he was in
-while touching on various shelves the ordinary array of utensils used
-for preparing meals--dishes, jars, and so forth--and at last his
-fingers lighted on another door, a door that, like the first, was open
-an inch or so.
-
-"Whoever 'tis," Bevill thought now, "he leaves the road clear for his
-return, for his escape. Yet that shall not be, or not, at least, until
-I know who and what this lurking midnight intruder is." Whereupon he
-drew the key of the door forth from the inner side of the lock and,
-taking it with him, made fast the door on the other side when he had
-felt for and found the key-hole; after which he went on, after putting
-the key in his pocket.
-
-He discovered now that he was in a long, narrow passage, one having,
-as his touch told him, doors on either side of it, all of which were
-locked, and with no keys in the locks; but as he still progressed,
-doing so gently on his tiptoes, he saw ahead of him a patch of
-gleaming light, and he understood what that light was. He knew that it
-was the moonlight on the marble-tiled hall, and that the moonlight had
-found its way in from the great window on the first floor, the window
-that served to light the hall by day, and by night, too, when there
-was a moon.
-
-"I shall be upstairs," Bevill said to himself, "ere many moments are
-passed. If you are there, my enemy, we should meet."
-
-
-[Illustration: "He lifted the heavy brocade that curtained off the
-passage."]
-
-
-His sword in hand, he lifted with the other the heavy brocade that
-curtained off the passage from the hall, and, observing carefully the
-portion of it that was outside the great splash made by the moonbeams,
-went on through the deepest shadow towards the lowest stair. Then,
-keeping to the side of those stairs that was itself free of the rays,
-he mounted to the first floor.
-
-"Now," he thought, "we are near close quarters, if it be not the wind
-that has played at tricks with me. Above this floor is nought but the
-servitors' quarters; short of being driven up by fear, Francbois will
-not attempt them."
-
-At this moment Bevill saw that, suddenly, the great patch of moonlight
-below was fading, and also that the light was obscured on the side of
-the house that a moment before had been touched by it. Glancing up
-through the roof-window, he observed the rim of a dense black cloud
-passing beneath the moon.
-
-"The house will be in utter darkness again ere long," he said to
-himself. "Ah, well! if I cannot thereby find my enemy, at least he
-cannot see me. And I can return and wait for him at the door I have
-but now made fast, if I find him not up here. There, he will not foil
-me."
-
-As thus Bevill mused a step fell on his ear--a soft footfall, almost a
-shuffling, halting one--a step that, in its creeping oncoming, caused
-even creepiness to one so brave as he--a footfall that seemed ghostly
-in its lagging progress towards where he stood. Yet, as the sound of
-it approached nearer and nearer, he knew that, for the present, it was
-not to his interest to obstruct whoever it might be that drew near,
-but rather to watch, to follow, and at last bring to bay this
-nocturnal intruder.
-
-The night itself aided him even as he drew back against the wall, for
-now the darkness was profound and, also, the rain beat down pitilessly
-on the great window; while the wind, risen once more, was again
-howling round the Weiss Haus. But ever still he heard--or did he
-feel?--that footfall drawing stealthily nearer and nearer to him.
-
-At last Bevill heard something also--something he could not
-understand, something the meaning of which he could in no wise
-comprehend.
-
-He heard a sliding noise upon the wall in a line with the spot where
-his face reached, and he fancied that it was varied now and again by
-something else which sounded like the light touch of fingers tapping
-on that wall.
-
-"Whoe'er it is," he said to himself, suddenly recognising what that
-scraping sound, interrupted by an occasional touch on the wall, was,
-"he feels his way carefully. Let me be ready to greet him--ah!" he
-ejaculated, lunging out straight before him with his sword, though
-piercing nothing. "Ah!"
-
-Fingers had passed across his face: an instant later something long
-and hairy had swept across his left hand, even as he lunged with his
-right: still a moment later the sound of a figure springing down the
-wide staircase fell on his ears; and, ere another moment had elapsed,
-he was springing after it.
-
-But, even as he did go, he muttered to himself:
-
-"This is not Francbois! He had no beard. Who, then, is it? Ah!
-Sparmann perchance!"
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIX.
-
-
-Some hours after the morning had broken grey and desolate, but with
-still a promise in the heavens that the storms of the night were past,
-Bevill Bracton arose from the great lounge in the hall on which he had
-laid himself down and on which he had been enabled to snatch some
-broken rest. For it was six o'clock ere he had deemed it prudent to
-attempt this, and he had not even then done so until he had satisfied
-himself that, whosoever the man might be whose hand had passed across
-his face and whose beard had swept over his disengaged hand, he was
-not present in the house now.
-
-While, however, discovering this to be the case, he had made discovery
-of something else. He had found signs that this man had not been the
-only visitor to the Weiss Haus beside himself, but that there had been
-another. Also, he had arrived at the conclusion that each of the men
-had come here on some secret purpose unknown to the other, and that
-they had met in the dark and had fought with each other. What that
-purpose was might not be hard to discover, he thought, yet, even so,
-he could not resolve why, if both of these intruders were his enemies,
-they should have come into deadly contact with each other. But that
-this had been the case there was no room left for doubt.
-
-After chasing down the great staircase the form of the man whose hand
-had crept over his face, he had, notwithstanding the fact of his
-having locked the door at the end of the lone passage, missed his
-quarry. In the darkness of the night that quarry had evaded him; in
-the coming of the dawn he knew that it had done so effectively. He
-made sure, in the grim light of the dayspring, that the house was
-absolutely empty of all human existence except his own, doing so by
-going into every apartment, large and small, that it contained.
-
-Observing carefully the direction from which the man came, looking to
-see if his fingers had left any marks on the wall along which he had
-felt his way in the dark, regarding the sides of the passage that ran
-round the balcony over the hall, Bevill discovered some signs of that
-man's advance towards him. He saw that, before this midnight wanderer
-through the house had drawn close to him, he had come from the farther
-or northern part of it. He perceived, also, at twenty paces from the
-spot where he himself had stood listening to the approach of his
-footfall, a shred, a wisp, of black ribbon lying on the floor.
-Stooping to look at this, while doubting for the moment if it might
-not have been some ribbon that had fallen from Sylvia's black robe ere
-she quitted the Weiss Haus some ten days before, he understood that
-such was not the case. The piece of ribbon had at its end a little
-tag, showing that it came from some "point" or aglet of a man's dress,
-worn either at his wrist or knee. He noticed, too, that it was clean
-cut as though with a knife or other sharp weapon; while, picking it
-up, he discovered that it was damp and that the dampness left a red
-stain on the finger and thumb between which he held it.
-
-Then Bevill understood.
-
-"It is from the man's sleeve-point," he said to himself. "Another
-man's rapier has cut it asunder ere transfixing his arm. There has,
-indeed, been an encounter in this house."
-
-Going still farther down the passage, he came to an open room, a
-little apartment that was more an alcove than a room in actual fact.
-Here there was no longer a possibility of doubt left as to what had
-taken place. A table of quaint Eastern make was half overturned and
-leant against a wall, two chairs were entirely so, a man's hat lay on
-the floor, and the carpet was splashed with blood. Also the window was
-open to the balcony, and against the balcony there stood a ladder
-reaching to it from the path below.
-
-
-[Illustration: "A man's hat lay on the floor."--_p_. 699.]
-
-
-"So, so!" Bevill said to himself, interpreting these signs easily
-enough. "The one was here, the other came and found him, and--they
-fought. Yet, it may be, each thought the other someone else and
-thought me that someone. Whom else should they seek? 'Tis very well. I
-have been shrewdly watched. Yet who were _they?_ Is that far to
-discover? There can be but two in this land who thrust against my life
-and security--the one whose grudge is undying, the other who deems me
-his rival."
-
-He took up now the hat lying on the floor, and, in the dim light of
-the rain-soaked dawn, turned it over and regarded the lining to see if
-that might tell him aught. Unhappily, however, it told him nothing.
-The day had not yet come for hat-makers to stamp their names inside
-their wares, and there was no private mark to testify to whom this hat
-belonged.
-
-"'Tis but a poor, common thing," Bevill mused, regarding the coarse
-felt, the tawdry galloon and rough lining. "Doubtless 'tis Sparmann's.
-Francbois apparels himself bravely; he would not wear such headgear as
-this."
-
-Still continuing his reflections, Bevill arrived at all, or almost
-all, that had happened. He concluded that in the darkness, and also in
-the noise of the storm, each of these men had decided that _he_ was
-the other man. Doubtless, therefore, Francbois considered he had
-thrust his rival from out his path; perhaps, indeed, thought he had
-killed him, while Sparmann, being wounded, probably deemed that his
-old enemy had again defeated him, and so would decide to try no more
-conclusions with such an invincible foe.
-
-"Wherefore," said Bevill, "I shall be safer here to-night than last;
-neither victor nor vanquished will come again to molest me. Yet how
-has Sparmann escaped from out the house?" while, glancing next at the
-balcony and the head of the ladder resting against it, he added, "How
-the other both came and went when his work was done is easy enough to
-see."
-
-Determined, nevertheless, to discover the method of Sparmann's
-evasion, he returned to the spot where he who was undoubtedly Sparmann
-had passed him, and whence he had sprung down the staircase. Arrived
-at this point, he saw that a sign, a clue, was ready to his eyes.
-
-In the now almost broad daylight, though a daylight still somewhat
-retarded by the rain-charged clouds rolling away, he perceived that on
-the white marble foot of the stairway there was a blood-stain and
-still another to the left of it.
-
-"To the left!" thought Bevill; "and the door I locked fast is to the
-right! 'Twas to that I returned. No great wonder that I lost him."
-
-And now all became as clear as noontide.
-
-"Doubtless when he came in he would leave the door open behind him,"
-Bevill pondered, even as he proceeded to the left of the staircase,
-"thinking I was already in the house. Learning that he had not one but
-two enemies to contend with, he may have feared to return the way he
-came, not knowing but that a fourth might be awaiting him at the
-entrance. Has he found an exit to the left, or has he dropped dead
-before he did so? Here's to discover."
-
-After which Bevill proceeded down the corridor on the left, which was
-a similar one to that on the right, though leading towards a
-_plaisance_ which he and Sylvia had one day visited when the sun was
-on the other side of the house. But the door opening on to this was
-fast locked and bolted; whoever the man was who had escaped from him
-he had not done so that way.
-
-Nevertheless, the mansion was empty of any other living creature than
-himself, as now he made sure of by visiting every room and cupboard
-that was open in the house. He could swear there was no human being
-but himself within it, and, thus resolved, lay down upon the lounge
-and slept--uneasily, as has been said.
-
-He had slept all the same, and so awoke refreshed, while noticing that
-the ancient clock in the hall pointed to noon. To noon! And he
-remembered he had not gone near La Rose since he discovered that the
-place was deserted of its recent visitors. Chiding, reproaching
-himself for this neglect--above all, for seeking rest ere going to see
-his most precious possession, the one by which he hoped soon to put a
-long distance between himself and Liege when once Sylvia and the
-Comtesse were ready to set out with him, he now left the house by the
-door on the right and went toward the stable. As he put the key in the
-door while calling to the mare, his ears were greeted by her usual
-whinnying, and, going up to her, he at once discovered that all was
-well. No matter who or what those men were who had been able to track
-him to the Weiss Haus, and to themselves obtain admission to it within
-a few hours of the time when he had left the "Gouden Leeuw," they
-either had not known his steed was with him, or, had they done so and
-desired to harm her, had found no opportunity for harm. In that
-respect all was very well.
-
-Filling La Rose's bucket for her now, and seeing that both rack and
-manger were still well provided with fodder, he determined to return
-to the house and there remain close until the evening came, at which
-time Sylvia had promised that she would make her way to him
-accompanied by Madame de Valorme. For then he was to learn what
-provision they had been able to make for leaving Liege, and the time
-when they would be prepared to depart.
-
-Between the stables and the house itself--or, rather, between the
-stables and this back entrance to the house--there was a little copse
-of trees and shrubs which had doubtless been planted some long time
-ago with the intention of shutting off the view of the former from the
-latter, and more especially from the windows of the back rooms on the
-floor above, which, as Bevill had observed in his search through the
-house, were furnished as small sleeping apartments. Through the copse
-there ran a path straight to the door, one that was probably used by
-the stablemen and ostlers in their going to and fro, and, also, it
-would seem, as some little retreat in which the domestics might sit in
-their hours of leisure. This Bevill judged, since there was a bench
-built round the largest tree of all, and, also, there were some rude
-wooden chairs which seemed to suggest that, once, they might have
-occupied a more honourable position on the lawn or in the arbours of
-the front, but had afterwards been relegated to the back.
-
-Walking slowly along this path when he had left La Rose, and doing so
-because not only did the shrubbery and trees partly shelter him from
-the fierce June sun, but likewise from any prying eyes that might be
-on the watch, Bevill stopped with a start as he drew near the bench.
-
-For, seated on it, his bare head bent forward on his breast while his
-limbs presented an appearance which combined at one and the same time
-an extraordinary suggestion of extreme lassitude and extreme rigidity,
-was the figure of a man. The man's garments, even in the full noontide
-heat, looked as though they were soaked with wet; a man on whose
-breast there hung down a long, iron-grey beard.
-
-"Who is that?" whispered Bevill, as he halted for an instant at this
-sight, and the next went swiftly forward. "It is Sparmann! Is he
-asleep--or dead?"
-
-His closer approach determined for ever any doubts he might have
-entertained. One touch of his finger on the man's wrist--a wrist that
-was pierced through and through, and, in the sunshine that peeped
-through and danced on the quivering leaves, was as red as if
-painted--told him that he was already cold.
-
-"Dead!" he whispered solemnly, fearfully, since, used as he had been
-to the sight of and acquaintance with death in his campaigns, that had
-at least been open death and not death dealt out in the darkness of
-midnight. "Dead! Yet, I thank thee, Heaven, not at my hands. But how
-has it come to him? How? That wound, bad as it is, would not slay, or,
-at least, not so soon."
-
-Looking farther, however, at the dead man, he learnt whence his death
-had come. Beneath the rusty beard he saw that Sparmann's poor, common
-linen frills--doubtless he had been very poor of late--were all torn
-asunder as though in the agony of some mortal spasm, and in his chest
-he saw a great gaping wound that was enough to tell all.
-
-"So," Bevill whispered as he stood there gazing on his dead foe and
-observing (as we so oft observe the most trivial matters in our most
-solemn moments) how a butterfly settled on the dead man's hand for an
-instant, as well as how the nether lip was caught between his teeth in
-some final paroxysm of pain, and how wet and soaked his poor, shabby
-garments were. "So this is the end of you--poor, broken soldier! Alas!
-whate'er your failings you were a brave man once; none knew it better
-than I who have crossed swords with you. Ah, well! you risked your
-life last night to slay me--as I must think--and lost it, though not
-by my hand, God be praised! Farewell. Death wipes out all bitterness."
-
-As the young man stood before the poor, dead thing, while feeling
-naught but compassion for his end, there did spring to his mind the
-recollection that, with Sparmann gone, one of two bitter foes was
-swept from out his path. Yet, had he but known what a few hours were
-to bring forth, had he but been able to peer but a little way into the
-future, he would have recognised that Sparmann dead might work him
-even more ill than Sparmann alive and seeking to slay him in the
-deserted Weiss Haus in the darkness of the night.
-
-Now, however, his thoughts turned to present things, and he was
-wondering, even as he still gazed on the dead man, what it was best
-for him to do.
-
-If the body remained where it now was it might be probable that none
-would pass along this path in the copse until he and both the ladies
-were out of Liege and far off from it. But what if the opposite should
-happen? What if 'twere known that he who was being tracked by Sparmann
-had harboured here that night? What if---- Then, suddenly, he broke
-off in these cogitations, disturbed by a slow, heavy footfall that
-approached behind him.
-
-Looking round to see who the advancing intruder might be, he observed
-old Karl coming towards him--old Karl, who, as he drew close to where
-the living and the dead men were, asked, "Who is he? Does he sleep,
-mynheer?"
-
-"For ever," Bevill said, answering the second question first, while to
-the former one he made reply, "His name was Sparmann. He was a
-Hollander once----"
-
-"Once, mynheer, once?" the old man's bleared, grey eyes glittering as
-they looked curiously into Bevill's. "Can a man be born of one land
-yet die the subject of its bitter foe?"
-
-"This man did so. He sold himself to France. He was a spy of France."
-
-"_Himmel!_ Therefore the enemy of us, of the land that gave him birth.
-And yet, mynheer should be French--is French--and has slain him."
-
-"Nay. He was slain by--another--Frenchman, as I believe."
-
-"Here? In the garden?"
-
-"In the house. He was my foe. He would have slain me, yet the other
-slew him. He, too, was foe to me, yet thinking that this one was I,
-took his life."
-
-After which Bevill gave as much explanation as he considered safe to
-the more or less bewildered old man.
-
-"Who was the other?" Karl asked, after he had grasped as much as
-Bevill cared to tell him.
-
-"No friend of mine, I tell you; nor, which concerns you most, of the
-Jouffrouw."
-
-"Ha! a traitor to his country, no friend to my young mistress. So be
-it. He is better dead than alive. What shall we do with him? He must
-not be found till you and the Jouffrouw are safely gone."
-
-"I know not. I am no ghost believer, nor am I afeard of the dead; yet
-if I stay here another night or so I care not to have this man keeping
-his silent watch outside the house."
-
-"Leave all to me. I have a tool-house near my cottage; to-night I will
-remove him there. When you and she and her friend are gone he shall
-have Christian burial."
-
-"It will bring no harm to you?"
-
-"Nay, nay. I have been a soldier. I can still wield a sword. Also,
-when the magistrates know of his treachery they will ask few
-questions. They will think 'twas I who found him in the darkened house
-and slew him for a robber. All will be well. But--you must go soon,
-very soon. That tale will only be good if told near to the hour of his
-death."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XX.
-
-
-No matter though their conquerors lay around the city--for conquerors
-in one form the French and their auxiliaries were--and no matter
-whether their grasp would tighten more and more upon the beleaguered
-place, or be suddenly relieved and loosed by the English and their
-allies as they advanced near to Liege, the inhabitants did not cease
-to continue as far as might be their ordinary pursuits, and also their
-relaxations.
-
-It is true, the business that they did was much curtailed: their silks
-and satins, spices, and other tropical wares could now no longer reach
-Liege either by water or land, or, having reached it, could not in
-many cases enter. Also, it was true, the burghers could neither feast
-nor drink as copiously as had once been their wont, since food was
-required for the investors inside and outside the city, who took care
-to be first served.
-
-But some things there were that neither investment nor a reduction in
-rations, nor, which was the same thing, a tremendous increase in the
-price of all rations, could prevent them from enjoying. Such things,
-to wit, as their walks and promenades along the quays on either side
-of the river or in the public gardens and places of the city.
-
-For which reason fathers and mothers still took their daughters out of
-evenings and gave them an airing, and treated them to the coffee
-drinking beloved of Dutch wives and maidens, while the men smoked
-solemnly their pipes, since the city was well provisioned with such
-things as coffee and tobacco, no matter how short it might fall of
-fresh bread and meat and fish and vegetables.
-
-And, because the heart can ever remain light so long as the most
-terrible calamities have not yet befallen that can well befall, and
-can especially do so when the heart is young, the daughters and sons
-of the honest Liegois would laugh and talk and sip their coffee under
-the flowering acacias, while, through the eyelits of their masks, the
-former would cast many a glance of curiosity at those whom they were
-taught to hate and loathe.
-
-For now that the city, as well as the country that lay around it, was
-filled with French soldiery, there would sometimes pass before their
-eyes handsomely accoutred mousquetaires and dragoons, or sometimes a
-fierce and swarthy Cravate, and sometimes a young cadet of the
-regiment of Royal-Conde or of the superbly decorated Garde de la
-Reine. And from the eyes that sparkled behind the half-masks would
-be shot glances that told of one of two things--or it may be of
-both!--namely, of hatred for the invader or of that admiration which
-scarlet or blue, or gold and silver lace, scarcely ever fail to
-extort.
-
-Beneath the leafy branches of some acacia and ialanthus trees there
-sat this evening a group of four people watching all the promenaders,
-native and foreign, who passed before them. One, the chief of the
-group, was an elderly man who seemed more immersed in intricate
-thought than concerned in what met his eyes. By his side was a lady,
-herself no longer young, and, consequently, unmasked; a woman with a
-sweet, sad face, who might have given to any onlooker the idea that
-her thoughts were little enough occupied with the affairs of this
-world--an idea that would, perhaps, have been increased in the minds
-of those who should regard her by the appearance of delicate health
-which her face wore.
-
-Next to her were two ladies, each masked and young, though one, if the
-lower and uncovered portion of the face was sufficient to judge by,
-was much younger than her companion. For surely the dark, chestnut
-hair of this latter, as it curled beneath the broad-brimmed,
-black-feathered hat she wore, while undisfigured by any wig or powder,
-belonged only to a woman in her first blush of early womanhood. So,
-too, must have done the tall, slight form clad outwardly in a long,
-dark-coloured satin cloak, and the slim hands from which the white
-gauntlets had been withdrawn. Also, the eyes that looked calmly
-through the eyelets of the mask, the sweet yet grave-set mouth
-beneath, and the white, smooth chin, would have told that here sat one
-who was young yet sedate, beautiful but grave.
-
-As for the lady next to her, she too was grave and solemn, and, for
-the rest, clad much the same as her companion.
-
-"And so," said the elderly gentleman, speaking now, though not until
-he had looked carefully round the _bosquet_ in which they all sat to
-see that there was no one about to overhear his words, "and so you are
-resolved to go--both of you--and to inform your--your cavalier of your
-determination to-night?"
-
-"Yes," the elder of the two masked ladies replied, "we are resolved.
-If for no other reason than for the one that, while we remain, he will
-not go himself. And, ah! he is too brave, too noble, to have his life
-sacrificed by us. Is it not so, Sylvia?"
-
-"In very truth it is," the girl replied. "If he remains here he does
-so at imminent deadly peril to himself; and that must not be. I, at
-least, will not have it so."
-
-"Nor I," said the Comtesse de Valorme.
-
-"I do aver," Madame Van Ryk said now, with a half-smile upon her sad
-face, "that Mademoiselle de Scudery and Madame de Lafayette might have
-drawn inspiration for one of their romances from you. And--how strange
-a working of chance is here! This cavalier sets forth to rescue a
-maiden who, in plain fact, needs no rescuer, but in her turn is forced
-to save the cavalier. Our Netherlanders have no romance. 'Tis pity!
-They should know this tale."
-
-"Romance or no romance," Sylvia replied, "this gentleman shall throw
-away no chance of safety, and it rests with me to prevent him from
-doing so. Ah! ah!" she went on, "if evil should befall him through his
-hopes of succouring me how should I bear my life?"
-
-Van Ryk shot a glance at his wife as Sylvia spoke thus--a glance that
-the lady well understood--then he said drily:
-
-"At least he wins a rich reward, a rich guerdon"--and Sylvia started
-at the word, remembering how the Earl of Peterborough had himself used
-it, as well as in what sense he had used it--"in having gained your
-interest in his welfare."
-
-"Should he not gain reward, does he not deserve it, remembering the
-interest he has testified in my welfare? And he will do so. If I
-should chance to stand face to face with my Lord Marlborough, he shall
-know how much 'Monsieur de Belleville' aspires to wear his sword for
-the Queen."
-
-"And so shall he know it from me," the Comtesse said, "if I, too, find
-myself before this great commander."
-
-"We go together," Sylvia said. "If I obtain the ear of his lordship so
-shall you."
-
-"What must be must be," Van Ryk said. "Now, see, the twilight is at
-hand. Soon it will be dark. I will but call my wife's chair and send
-her home, and then escort you to your own house. Monsieur de
-Belleville will doubtless be awaiting your coming--your decision."
-
-Half an hour later the three stood outside the wall of the Weiss Haus,
-by the side entrance that led past the stables and through the little
-copse in which, that morning, Bevill had found Sparmann seated dead.
-
-
-[Illustration: "Sylvia heard a soft, yet firm footstep on the path."]
-
-
-Tapping on the door gently as she sought admission to her own house,
-Sylvia heard a soft, yet firm footstep on the path a moment later.
-Another instant and the door was opened, and Bevill stood before them.
-
-Then, when they had all exchanged greetings and Sylvia had asked him
-how the previous night had passed, receiving for answer the
-information that, after the storm was over, he had been enabled to
-sleep, Bevill desired to know where they wished to retire to, there to
-confer on any plans that she and Madame de Valorme might have decided
-on.
-
-"Let us remain outside," Sylvia replied, "in one of the arbours. The
-night is warm, and the sun to-day has dried the wet of last night.
-Come," she said, addressing the others, "to the _bosquet_ on the lawn.
-There we can talk in comfort."
-
-Upon which they proceeded along the path that ran through the
-copse--there was no silent figure now on the seat around the great
-tree, though Bevill could not refrain from casting one glance at the
-spot where it had been in the morning--and so reached the arbour the
-girl had spoken of.
-
-
-One thing Bevill had determined on, and, in so doing, had also
-impressed on old Karl, and this was that no word should be uttered to
-Sylvia of all that had occurred in the house overnight. For he knew,
-or, at least, already understood, that, should she be made cognisant
-of these occurrences, no power on earth would prevent her from
-instantly deciding to set out with him from Liege, so as, thereby, to
-ensure, if possible, what she would believe to be his safety. Yet in
-doing this she might not be absolutely ensuring his safety, while,
-undoubtedly, she would be jeopardising her own. And he would not have
-that. If Sylvia desired to go, she should go with him in her train,
-but she should not go on his behalf. Never! He had come there to save
-her, not to force her to imperil herself by saving him. That must
-never be. While, for the rest, what mattered it to him now whether he
-stayed here in danger, or, if she desired it, courted additional
-danger by going with her? In either case he would be by her side
-unless disaster came; while, if it came, he would still be near to, it
-might be, shield and protect her, perhaps to save her. He would leave
-the decision in her hands, would abide by her determination. He was
-learning to love her--pshaw! _was_ learning! Nay, he did love her.
-Nothing should drive him from her. As she decided so it should
-be--short of her deciding to do aught that should part him from her.
-
-Now that they were all seated in the arbour, Sylvia at once began to
-unfold her plans by saying:
-
-
-"Mr. Bracton, the Comtesse and I have decided to quit Liege to-morrow
-night."
-
-
-"Ah, yes," he answered, seeing that, beneath the stars now twinkling
-in the evening sky, another pair of stars, not less bright than those
-above, were looking into his eyes as though expectant of his reply.
-"Ah, yes. Yet are you well advised? Have you thought deeply on what
-you do? You told me but a few days past that you were safe here, being
-a woman."
-
-"Safe--yes, perhaps. Yet desperately desirous of leaving this
-war-ridden land, of reaching my own; of imploring the assistance of
-the Captain-General of our forces to put me in the way of doing so.
-Also, I desire to snatch the chance of travelling with Madame de
-Valorme, who is herself resolved to implore Lord Marlborough
-to--to--ah! you know what her desires are."
-
-"As all know here," the Comtesse said. "There is no need for silence.
-England has promised help to us poor Protestants in Languedoc, and,
-for the help that England can give, Lord Marlborough alone can decide.
-Today, he stands here as England, he is England; he is the one foe
-whom Louis fears, the one who may bring Louis to his demands. And the
-time is now. Environed east and west and north and south by his
-enemies, England's help given in the Cevennes may free us from our
-sufferings; may enable us at last to worship God in our own way, as
-his grandsire allowed our people to do. I must see Marlborough. I
-must! I must!"
-
-"Being resolved," Bevill said, "doubtless your plans for leaving Liege
-are decided on. How have you determined to quit the city?"
-
-"For our purpose," Sylvia answered, "we are all French. You are M. de
-Belleville, Madame is truly the Comtesse de Valorme, I am her maid."
-
-"Yet her actual maid is old," Bevill said.
-
-"They will not know that at the gate."
-
-"'Tis best," Van Ryk said now, speaking for the first time, while
-remarking that the wind was rising and rustling the leaves behind the
-arbour, "that you leave at a fixed time. The east gate is the last
-left open, but even for the French themselves that is closed to them
-and all and every as the clock from St. Lambert's strikes eleven,
-after which none can enter or pass out. It will be well, therefore,
-that you should meet the ladies," he continued, addressing Bevill,
-"ere they reach the gate. If chance is with you all you should be
-outside in safety ere the hour has struck."
-
-"Where and when shall it be?" Bevill asked.
-
-"By the Prince's palace at ten of the night. Then are our townsmen in
-their houses and shortly after in their beds, and the streets are
-therefore well-nigh deserted. Also our invaders," he went on bitterly,
-"are all called in at sunset, the town is quiet. Beyond your
-questioning at the gate there will be naught to impede you."
-
-"Is it agreed on?" Sylvia asked of Bevill.
-
-"As you command," he answered, "it shall be. At ten of the night
-to-morrow I shall be outside the Prince's palace or no longer alive."
-
-"Ah!" exclaimed Sylvia, shuddering at the very thought of Bevill's
-being no longer in existence twenty-four hours hence. "Never speak nor
-dream of it. If I thought there was danger of such horrors would I
-quit Liege?"
-
-An instant after Bevill had spoken he knew that his words were
-ill-timed. He recognised that to alarm Sylvia at this moment--the
-moment when she had decided to set out on the road to England--was
-madness. Madness, because he knew--he could not help but know--that
-after the episodes of the last night in the now gloomy and deserted
-Weiss Haus his own life was in serious danger; not from any violence
-that Francbois might attempt against him--that, he doubted not, he
-could meet and overthrow--but from his treachery. And though,
-soldier-like, he thought but little of his life and was willing to
-freely set it against the prize that success and increase of honour
-would bring, he was not willing to set it against the sweet, new-born
-hopes that had sprung to his heart; against the desire to win this
-beautiful and stately woman for his wife.
-
-"Yet," he mused, even as he heard Van Ryk telling her how he charged
-himself henceforth with all care of her property and affairs; how, in
-truth, he would regard himself as her steward and agent in Liege until
-brighter days should dawn, "yet, if I am betrayed, if I die here, I
-lose more than my life, more than that life is worth; while she--ah!
-no--I may not dream nor hope as yet to win what I desire. Though
-still--still I fain would hope that this life of mine may grow
-precious to her--that she would as little part from me as I from her.
-If it should be so! If it should!"
-
-They had all risen now, and were once more making their way towards
-the thicket by the stables, Mynheer Van Ryk walking with Madame de
-Valorme and Bevill by Sylvia's side; and as they went, he said to her:
-
-"There is one fear within my heart, one dread that I would have
-allayed. May I ask a question, hoping to receive an answer to it from
-you?"
-
-"Ask," Sylvia replied, looking at him in the starlight, while, since
-she herself was tall, her eyes were not so far from his but that he
-could gaze easily into them.
-
-"You do not set out upon this journey, do not leave Liege on my
-account alone!" he said now. "I could not bear to deem that you are
-going on a perilous journey--for perilous it may be--only to ensure
-the safety of one who, perhaps foolishly then, placed himself in a
-position of which there was no need."
-
-"Then--And now?" Sylvia murmured.
-
-"But who now regards the enterprise he undertook as--it may well be
-so--the happiest, the best determination he ever embarked upon. Ah!
-answer me, Sylvia."
-
-"I set out to-morrow night," the girl replied, "because I fain
-would quit Liege--because I would be gone from out of it at once.
-The place thrusts against my desires, my wishes--ay, all my hopes
-of--happiness--to come. Ask me no more since I have answered you.
-Farewell," holding out her slim, white hand to him. "Farewell until
-to-morrow night. You will not fail, I know."
-
-"I shall never fail you. Farewell. Goodnight."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXI.
-
-
-The next night was already very quiet, although it still wanted some
-time ere ten should strike from St. Lambert's and all the other clocks
-of the city.
-
-Van Ryk had spoken truly when he said that by this time most of the
-Liegois were in their homes, though some who had not yet retired to
-them were on the various bridges over the streams running through the
-city from the Meuse. For the night had grown almost insufferably hot,
-and the interiors of many of the houses, which were built of timber
-and stood in narrow, stuffy streets, were not inviting. Also, some few
-were strolling about or seated on the quays.
-
-Outside the Prince's palace--which was that of the
-Prince-Bishop--there were, however, scarcely any persons about, and
-those only beggars, who sometimes at night crept into the outer
-cloisters to sleep.
-
-In the darkest shadow cast by these cloisters Bevill Bracton sat on La
-Rose's back while endeavouring to keep her as quiet as was possible,
-though no efforts could prevent her from pawing the earth, or shaking
-her bridoon, or snorting impatiently.
-
-His dress, in which at one time he had thought of making some
-alteration, he had, however, left as it was, since it was neither too
-handsome nor too conspicuous for a secretary of legation on his
-travels with a French lady of rank who, if necessity should call for
-such a declaration, would state that they were family connections.
-
-He had arrived at this spot and taken up the position he now occupied
-some quarter of an hour ago, and during that time, while casting
-searching glances to right and left of him to see if there were as yet
-any signs of the approach of Madame de Valorme's carriage, his mind
-had been much occupied with all that had transpired since Mynheer Van
-Ryk had escorted the two ladies to the Weiss Haus.
-
-Yet strange as had been one, or, at least, two, occurrences during the
-past twenty-four hours, another matter, the recollection of one other
-incident, dominated his mind more than aught else--the recollection
-that the last words Sylvia uttered had been almost an avowal of her
-regard--he dared not yet tell himself that it was an avowal of her
-love--for him.
-
-"Her voice, her tone, her anxiety to depart from Liege," he had said
-to himself a hundred times since he parted from the girl, "scarce
-leaves me room to doubt her sentiments for me, while throwing open the
-door of a vast, a supreme hope. Ah, if it is so! If, when once we are
-free of this place, I may dare to speak, and, in speaking, win the
-reply I fain would receive, what happiness will be mine! With Sylvia
-for my love, my promised wife; with her safe in England, what may I
-not undertake in the future? Once more a soldier, as I hope to be, may
-I not follow where duty summons me, knowing that, if it pleases
-Providence to spare my life, it will be to find Sylvia awaiting me and
-ready to fulfil her promise to be my wife when I return."
-
-As he had thought thus during the past hours so he thought again
-while, statue-like, he sat his steed in the deepest shadows of the
-palace cloisters and waited to hear the tread of the Comtesse's horses
-approaching, or to see the carriage emerging from one of the narrow
-streets that led into the great open space around the palace.
-
-Still, however, he had those other things to occupy his mind--strange
-things that, had it not been for the overmastering thoughts of the
-woman he had learnt to love--the woman who, he dared to hope, had
-either come or was coming to love him--would have never left his mind.
-Things, occurrences, that now cast a strangely different light on all
-that had happened during the storm of the first night in the Weiss
-Haus, and that had raised oft-recurring doubts as to whether he had
-accurately understood all that had taken place in the darkness of that
-night.
-
-When Sylvia and the Comtesse de Valorme had departed with Mynheer Van
-Ryk, Bevill--partly attracted by the beauty of the evening and partly
-because it was still early, and perhaps, also, because he knew full
-well that, after Sylvia's last words to him, there would be little
-likelihood of his sleeping at present--determined to remain outside
-the mansion for some time before attempting to obtain any rest.
-
-Naturally--as, maybe, needs no telling--his steps were unconsciously
-directed back to the arbour in which their late conversation had taken
-place, and, as he approached the spot, the calm tranquillity of the
-night, the entire absence of the lightest breeze, forced itself upon
-his attention. Even, however, as this took place he recalled how Van
-Ryk had said that the wind was rising and rustling the bushes and long
-grasses; and, while doing so, Bevill wondered why the merchant should
-have given utterance to such a remark; for, as he thought upon the
-matter, he knew that no breath of wind had disturbed the air, that not
-the slightest breeze had blown that would have stirred a leaf.
-
-His faculties aroused by all the necessities for caution which had
-formed part of his existence since he left England on the undertaking
-he was now about--faculties that had long since been trained and
-sharpened in his earlier campaigns--he stood gazing at the bushes and
-tall, wavy, Eastern grasses which surrounded the arbour, as though in
-them he might, dark as it was now, discover some natural cause that
-would have furnished Van Ryck with the supposition that the wind was
-rising.
-
-Seeing nothing, however, that could suggest any such cause, he walked
-round those bushes and grasses to the back of the arbour and
-endeavoured to discover if the reason was to be found there.
-
-At first he could perceive nothing in the darkness, while feeling
-gently about him with his hands and feet, as those feel to whom the
-aid of light is denied while they search for aught they may expect to
-discover.
-
-But, at last, it seemed to Bevill that the grass behind the arbour was
-strangely flattened down longwise, and, pausing at this discovery, his
-sharpened instincts were soon at work wondering what this might mean.
-
-"A large dog sleeping here might almost have made for itself a bed,"
-he reflected, "yet there is no dog about the place, nor, even though
-there were, would it have lain so straight and long. What, therefore,
-may have done this? What? Perhaps a man."
-
-After which he stooped again, and, placing his hand on the
-pressed-down grass, discovered that it was warm.
-
-"Something has indeed lain here but recently," Bevill said to himself.
-"Some eavesdropper who has heard our plans, who knows them all by now,
-who has it in his power to foil us. Can it have been Francbois?"
-
-Supposing this might well be the case, Bevill determined to search the
-grounds and afterwards the house as thoroughly as might be, while
-understanding that, no matter how much he might endeavour to make that
-search complete, it could by no possibility be so. The gardens were
-too vast, the house too extensive. As he approached one spot any
-person whom he sought might easily move to another; chance alone, the
-luckiest of all chances, could bring him into contact with any lurker
-who should be about.
-
-Nevertheless, he decided to attempt the search, and, feeling for his
-pistols, which in no circumstances was he ever separated from, he
-began to make as thorough an inspection of the place as was possible.
-Yet, when all was concluded, and when he had been all about the
-grounds, and had peered into the other arbours and _bosquets_ and
-behind bushes, and had then once more wandered over the vast, lonely
-house, he had found nothing. After which, since still he felt sure
-there had been some listener crouching behind that arbour while the
-plans of himself and the others were being determined, he brought out
-a chair on to the lower verandah and, wrapping himself lightly in his
-cloak, since now the night was growing cool, determined to keep watch
-as long as possible.
-
-The early summer dawn came, however, and Bevill was still awake, but
-had seen nothing, whereupon he at last decided that it must have been
-some animal that had been sleeping behind where they all sat.
-
-
-[Illustration: "The gardener carried something else in his hand."]
-
-
-An hour or so after this and when he had obtained some refreshing
-sleep on the great lounge in the hall, old Karl appeared, bringing the
-usual food which he had received instructions from Sylvia to provide
-each day so long as Bevill should remain at the Weiss Haus. The
-gardener carried, however, something else than this in his hand,
-namely, a three-cornered hat, which he at once said he had found in
-the path that led from a little wicket gate he alone used, and which
-opened from the road leading from his cottage to the grounds behind
-the stables.
-
-"Another hat!" Bevill exclaimed, taking it from the old man's hands
-and turning it over in his own. "Another! Whose this time?"
-
-To whomsoever it might have belonged, it did not, however, appear to
-the young man that it was any more likely to have belonged to
-Francbois than had done the earlier discovered one. If anything, it
-was an even poorer specimen of headgear than that had been, and was a
-hat that, though originally not of a common order, gave signs that it
-might in its existence have passed from one owner to another; from,
-indeed, a well-to-do man down to one who would be willing to accept it
-in its final state of usefulness.
-
-"It is very strange," he said, half aloud and half to himself. "Were
-there three of them here last night, or were there only two, and was
-Francbois not one of them? Had I two enemies besides him, and still
-have two with him since Sparmann is gone? It is vastly strange." After
-which he turned to Karl, and said:
-
-"You have just found this thing. Therefore it was not there last night
-nor yesterday morning?"
-
-"Ah," the old man replied, "I cannot tell. Yesterday I used not the
-path at all, having gone first to the Jouffrouw at Mynheer Van Ryk's
-in the morning; and, last night, I was busy with _him_," nodding his
-head towards where the corpse by the stables had been, "after dark."
-
-"What have you done with him?"
-
-"He is gone," Karl said vaguely. "Gone. No matter where. He will not
-come back to--to--the Weiss Haus or Liege."
-
-By which remark Bevill was led to suppose that the old man had cast
-Sparmann's body into the river.
-
-"Therefore," the latter said, "we have no knowledge of whether that
-hat was left behind by one who was here during the storm of the night
-before, or last night. Yet," turning the thing over in his hands,
-"surely it must have been the first night. See, it has recently been
-soaked by rain, the lining is still damp, and last night there was no
-rain whatever."
-
-"It may be," Karl replied, apparently much astonished at this clear
-reasoning. "It may be. Therefore, you had three visitors on that
-night."
-
-"I cannot say. I have but proof of two. The wearers of the two hats at
-least were here. Yet they may well have been the only visitors; in
-solemn truth there may not have been three. Though strange it is
-that, if there were but two, both should have parted with their hats.
-One must have lost his in the encounter in which he received his
-death-wound, the other in fleeing away."
-
-For, now, Bevill had grave doubts as to whether Francbois had been at
-the Weiss Haus at all on the night before the one now past. Still, if
-it were not Francbois who had mortally wounded Sparmann--while almost
-of a certainty supposing Sparmann to be another person, namely,
-himself--who was it? Who was the other enemy he possessed? He knew
-neither of personal enemy nor spy tracking him, nor of French soldier
-or official likely to do so.
-
-All the same, there was, there must be, a third enemy, even though
-Francbois had not been of the number that night, since it was almost
-certain that neither of those hats would have been worn by him--even
-as a disguise. There must be two others beside him while Sparmann was
-alive!
-
-"And still there is more mystery," Bevill mused as the old man stood
-gazing up at him, "more that is inexplicable. Sparmann did not find
-his way out through either of the doors, nor, since I followed him as
-he fled down the stairs, did he do so by the ladder against the
-balcony. How, then, did that come to pass? Did he hide somewhere in
-the house until I had opened the door leading to the stables, or was
-there some window near the ground through which a man wounded to the
-death might yet escape?"
-
-But no answer came to these reflections. Whatever had taken place in
-the Weiss Haus, other than all which he already knew, had left no
-trace behind.
-
-*    *    *    *    *    *    *
-
-Ten had struck, and, next, the quarter, from all the city clocks ere
-Bevill had concluded these reflections, and still the carriage which
-he was to accompany to the gate (since, as has been told, it was
-finally decided that all should leave the city together, or attempt to
-leave it) had not appeared.
-
-As, however, the half-hour rang out, Bevill perceived it drawing near.
-On the box he recognised Joseph, he being, doubtless owing to the
-necessity for a coachman, the only servant whom the Comtesse de
-Valorme had thought fit to bring with her.
-
-Slowly the carriage drew near until, now, it was almost abreast of
-where Bevill sat his horse, when, allowing La Rose to advance, he rode
-up to the side of it and, bowing low to its occupants, asked if all
-was well with them.
-
-"All is very well," the Comtesse and Sylvia said together, while the
-latter added, "as we pray it is with you. Ah!" she went on, "how we do
-pray that the next half-hour will see you safely out of this place."
-
-"And I," Bevill said, "that we shall all be safely out of it
-together."
-
-Any further remarks they would have made were, however, checked by
-what they deemed to be an ordinary occurrence in a city in the
-condition that Liege now stood.
-
-From the direction in which the travelling carriage had come there
-appeared--their corselets gleaming under the oil lamps slung across
-the end of the old street--half a dozen men of a dragoon regiment,
-having at their head an officer. As they advanced at a trot, Bevill
-observed that no sooner had they approached close to the party than the
-officer gave an order for them to proceed slowly, so that now the
-_cortege_ presented the appearance of a carriage accompanied first by a
-gentleman as escort, and next by a guard--small as it was--of cavalry.
-Still, however, as the  great vehicle proceeded through narrow, tortuous
-streets, while emerging occasionally into little open spaces having
-sometimes fountains in the middle of them and, here and there, an old
-and timeworn statue, he saw that, wherever he and the carriage went,
-the dragoons followed. Also, if any interruption occurred, or any halt
-was made by Joseph in the confined streets, they halted too, so that, at
-last, he felt sure that their close following of him and those with him
-was no mere coincidence. This was, he soon decided, no night patrol
-returning from its round to its own quarters, but resembled more a guard
-which had taken possession of the travellers after having come across
-them.
-
-He saw, too, that the ladies knew what was behind and were already
-alarmed.
-
-Turning sound suddenly over his cantle, therefore, while raising his
-hat at the same time, Bevill said to the officer:
-
-"Monsieur proceeds in the same direction as ourselves. It is to be
-hoped that we in no way interrupt his progress or that of his troops."
-
-"In no way, monsieur," the officer answered equally politely, while
-returning Bevill's salute. "But," speaking very clearly and
-distinctly, "we are warned that an English spy will endeavour to leave
-Liege to-night in company with two ladies who travel by coach, and,
-until monsieur has satisfied those who are at the gate, he will pardon
-us if we inflict our company on him and his friends."
-
-"An English spy!" Bevill exclaimed.
-
-"Unhappily, it is so. One whose name is as well known as the French
-name with which he thinks fit to honour our country by assuming."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXII.
-
-
-When the officer of dragoons had uttered those last words there
-remained no longer any hope of escape in Bevill's mind. It was
-impossible to doubt that he was the person for whom this small body of
-troops was searching, or to suppose that there was in Liege any other
-Englishman who, as the officer had said with delicate sarcasm, was
-honouring his country by assuming a French name.
-
-At first he knew not what was best to do, though, had he been alone,
-his perplexity might easily have been resolved, since there would have
-been one of two things open to him, namely, on the one hand, an
-attempt to escape by flight through the narrow streets which
-surrounded them all at this time--an attempt to dash suddenly away on
-the fleet-footed La Rose, in the hope that she would bear him more
-swiftly through those cramped streets than the heavy troop-horses of
-the dragoons could follow, or ride through, side by side. On the other
-hand, an effort to cut his way through these soldiers, though they
-were seven against him, might by supreme good fortune be successful.
-
-But, now, these ideas could by no possibility be acted on. He was
-there in company with Sylvia and the Comtesse as their cavalier and
-escort; while, although it was his safety and not theirs which was in
-peril, his place was by their side to the last. Consequently, there
-remained one thing alone to do: to state that he was the Englishman of
-whom these men were in search, while adding that he was no spy, but,
-instead, one who had made his way from England to Liege with the sole
-object of assisting a countrywoman to leave a city surrounded by the
-eternal enemies of the English.
-
-Before, however, Bevill could follow this determination, at which he
-arrived suddenly, since from the time the officer of dragoons had
-uttered his last words until now not two moments had elapsed, he saw
-the face of Madame de Valorme at the window of the travelling
-carriage, and, an instant later, heard her address the officer.
-
-"Monsieur," she said, "ere we reach the gate may I beseech the favour
-of speaking to the gentleman of our party in private? I have some few
-words to say to him in connection with our journey when we shall be
-outside the city. I am confident that monsieur will not refuse so
-simple a request."
-
-"Madame may rest well assured of that," the officer replied, as now he
-sat his horse bareheaded before the Comtesse. "Madame shall not be
-incommoded by listeners to anything she may have to say to her
-friend." After which he ordered three of his men to advance twenty
-paces in front of the carriage and halt there, and the other three to
-retire twenty paces behind it; while he himself rode forward and took
-up his position in front of the foremost men.
-
-The Comtesse and Sylvia, with Bevill at the carriage window, were,
-therefore, as free to discourse without being overheard as though the
-soldiers had not been in the neighbourhood.
-
-"Ah!" the former said now, speaking of course in a low tone, as at the
-same time Sylvia thrust forth her hand and clasped Bevill's silently,
-while one glance at her sweet face was enough to show him how agitated
-she was, the look in her eyes telling him of that agitation as clearly
-as the tremor of her gloved hand could do. "Ah! what is to be done?
-Have we failed so soon in our undertaking? Have we brought you to your
-destruction?"
-
-"Nay, never, never!" Bevill whispered back. "If I have met my
-fate"--while, as he spoke, he heard a moan, which was in truth a gasp,
-from Sylvia's lips, and felt her hand tighten convulsively on his--"I
-have brought it on myself; I can meet it boldly. I set myself to do
-this thing, looking for a reward, though never dreaming how fair a
-reward might at last be mine," he added, with a glance beyond the
-Comtesse to where Sylvia was. "If I have lost shall I not pay the
-stake, shall I not look ill-fortune bravely in the face?"
-
-"How has this disaster come about?" Sylvia asked, speaking for the
-first time. "What precaution has been omitted? Or is it----?"
-
-"Treachery!" the Comtesse said. "Ay! that way the disaster has come.
-Say, is it not so?"
-
-"I fear, indeed, it is," Bevill replied. "Listen. Someone, either
-Francbois or another, was in the garden of the Weiss Haus last night
-behind the arbour, and overheard our plans. I have been denounced, our
-plans have been revealed, by the eavesdropper."
-
-"Maledictions on him!" the Comtesse whispered through her white teeth,
-while now her eyes were worthy rivals in splendour of Sylvia's own as
-they sparkled in the light cast by a lamp suspended across the narrow
-street. "May vengeance confound him, whoe'er he is; and if 'tis
-Francbois, let him beware! I hold him in my hand. If--if--you
-are--are----"
-
-"Cease in mercy's sake!" Sylvia exclaimed. "Ah, say it not. It
-cannot--cannot--be."
-
-"If you are betrayed by him, you shall be dearly avenged," the
-Comtesse continued. "Yet, see, that officer gives some order to the
-men by his side. Quick--what will you do? What?"
-
-"Proclaim myself an Englishman, yet no spy. Speak truthfully, and
-acknowledge that I came here to save my countrywoman----"
-
-"Madame," the officer exclaimed now as, after turning his horse, he
-rode back to the carriage, "the clocks are striking the last quarter.
-If madame and her friends are not at the gate in ten minutes there
-will be little hope of their passing through it to-night. Even
-provided," he added below his breath, "that the papers are in order."
-
-For this well-bred young dragoon had a full certainty that he had
-found the quarry which he, as well as two or three other small parties
-of soldiers, had been sent out that night to waylay if possible. Yet
-he had caught a glimpse of Sylvia in the depths of the carriage and
-more than a glimpse of the aristocratic though sad features of the
-Comtesse, and he regretted that it had fallen to his lot to light on
-those who were sought for. As for Bevill, he recognised that he was
-one of his own class--a gentleman and, by his appearance, perhaps a
-soldier; but he believed him to be what he had been described as
-being, a spy, a thing accursed in every land, and for him the young
-officer felt little sympathy.
-
-"It must be so," Madame de Valorme said now. "Monsieur," speaking as
-calmly to Bevill as she was able to do, "pray bid Joseph to proceed."
-
-A moment later the group had again set forth, three of the troopers
-riding ahead and three behind the carriage, only now the officer rode
-very close behind Bevill.
-
-It took but little longer after this to reach the gate set in the
-walls, which at this time were very high and strong, the gate-house
-itself looking like a small fortress built into a still greater
-fortification. Inside it, three or four mousquetaires were standing as
-sentries as the carriage approached, while, since all recognised the
-young officer in front, no challenge was given, but, instead, a
-salute.
-
-Then the latter, speaking to one of the mousquetaires, said:
-
-"Inform the officer of the guard that Captain d'Aubenay has arrived in
-company with a party who desire to pass out."
-
-Ere, however, this could be done, the officer himself had come forth
-from the guard room, and as he did so the Comtesse uttered an
-exclamation, while muttering beneath her breath:
-
-"It is De Guise. Again! Ah, that man is fatal to all of us!"
-
-In the manner of the young Duc de Guise there was, however, nothing to
-suggest any disaster, since, courteous as he had been at the western
-gate when the Comtesse entered with Bevill, so he was now as she and
-Bevill endeavoured to leave by the eastern one.
-
-"We meet again, madame," he said; "and, this time, when madame would
-depart. The formality is nothing. I merely require to see the papers
-of herself and friends. Yet I have seen it before," he went on, as now
-he took the _laissez-passers_ of the Comtesse and Sylvia from the
-former's hand. "Ah, yes, yes," he muttered, though as he did so he
-glanced at Madame de Valorme and, past her, at Sylvia. "Madame la
-Comtesse de Valorme and her _dame de compagnie_. _Si, si_. And
-monsieur?" he continued, looking up now at Bevill, while all noticed
-that he had not used one of the accustomed phrases, "_Passez,
-madame_," or "_C'est tout en regle_," nor had he as yet returned the
-papers.
-
-"Ah, yes!" the young Duke said now, as he looked at the paper Bevill
-handed down to him. "Monsieur de Belleville. I remember very well. Of
-the embassy in London. Yes," still looking up. Then he said, "I regret
-to do so, but I must ask monsieur to descend from his horse."
-
-"Descend!"
-
-"Unfortunately it must be so. We have received orders not to permit
-monsieur to pass the gate for the moment. Doubtless for the moment
-only. It is very regrettable----"
-
-"And," asked the Comtesse, "has monsieur le Duc also received orders
-not to permit me and my _dame de compagnie_ to pass out?"
-
-"_Je suis desole_, but, alas!----"
-
-"Is it so?"
-
-"It is so, madame."
-
-"Are we to be detained here? And for how long?"
-
-"Ah, Madame la Comtesse! For how long! But for a moment. Monsieur de
-Violaine, the Governor, makes the night rounds regularly, reaching
-here at eleven as the clocks strike, or very little later. Madame may
-rely on seeing him in a few minutes. If he decides that it shall be so
-the gate will be opened to let madame and mademoiselle pass out."
-
-"And as for me, sir?" Bevill asked.
-
-"Monsieur, I cannot say. Our orders were simply to detain you if you
-presented yourself at the gate."
-
-Then, again addressing the Comtesse, the young Duke said:
-
-"Will not madame and mademoiselle give themselves the trouble to
-descend from the coach? The guardroom is at their disposal: while,"
-looking at Bevill, "monsieur is quite free to accompany his friends
-inside."
-
-After which the Comtesse and Sylvia left the great carriage, and
-Bevill, after assisting them to do so, in which attention he was
-joined by the Duke and another officer of mousquetaires, accompanied
-them to the guardroom.
-
-Hardly, however, had they set foot in the place than the clatter of
-several horses' hoofs was heard outside; the voice of a sergeant was
-also heard giving the order to salute, and, a moment later, the
-Governor, M. de Violaine, entered the room. As he did so the eyes of
-those three were turned on him whom they well knew was, for the time
-being at least, the arbiter of their destiny; while Madame de Valorme
-seemed to become even more pale than she usually appeared. For, as she
-had said once, this man was well known to her, and, like her, belonged
-to the South of France; while, in other days, he had aspired to win
-her hand, though this no one in Liege but herself and De Violaine
-knew.
-
-The group was now one at which any onlooker, not knowing all that
-agitated the hearts and minds of those present, might have gazed in
-interested wonderment.
-
-
-[Illustration: "De Violaine muttered beneath his breath, 'It is
-she--Radegonde!'"--_p_. 747.]
-
-
-De Violaine, tall and handsomely accoutred, had stopped short as he
-entered the guardroom, and, his eyes fixed on the Comtesse, had
-muttered beneath his breath, "It is she--Radegonde!"
-
-By Bevill's side, to which she had drawn close as they entered through
-the clamped door, was Sylvia, gazing at him, silent for some moments,
-yet whispering next.
-
-"You thought to save me--would have saved me. If on this earth there
-exist any means by which I can do by you as you would have done by me,
-they shall be used. You said last night that you would never fail me.
-Now I exchange the pledge. By God's will never will I fail you."
-
-"Sylvia!" Bevill murmured, and then was silent from agitation at her
-words. But a moment later he said, speaking so low that none but she
-could hear, "Sylvia, I am in God's hand, not knowing what His decree
-may be; yet--yet--if this is not the end, if to-night we do not make
-our last farewell----"
-
-"No, no!" she moaned, turning her face away so that the others should
-not see her fast falling tears. "Not that! Never! Ah, it cannot be!"
-
-"I pray it may not be so; but, Sylvia, if happier days shall ever
-dawn, if some day I may stand face to face with you again; if I should
-then dare to tell you all that is in my heart? Ah!" he exclaimed, as
-now he felt her hand touch his beneath the long, dark riding-cloak she
-wore. "Ah! am I answered?"
-
-"Yes," she whispered, "answered as none shall ever be again," and
-turned her face away--from him this time, so that not even he should
-see it.
-
-Meanwhile, whatever emotion De Violaine and the Comtesse may have
-experienced in meeting under such strange circumstances, circumstances
-so different from those of other days, when he who now commanded
-besought pity, and she who was now almost a captive could not
-vouchsafe mercy to her then captive, they had at least obtained
-control over themselves.
-
-Quietly, with the easy calm of that old French _noblesse_ which, above
-all things, permitted no emotion to be apparent, the Governor had
-advanced towards Madame de Valorme and, in a few well-chosen words,
-had informed her that matters which had come to his knowledge
-prevented him from allowing her to use her right of quitting the city
-at present, or of leaving Liege until she had answered some questions
-satisfactorily.
-
-"What matters? What questions, monsieur?" the Comtesse asked.
-
-"Firstly," M. de Violaine said gravely, "the reasons for which you are
-desirous of travelling at this moment. It is an unhappy time for
-ladies to select for setting out upon a journey. They might," he
-added, with significance, "come into contact with the English or some
-other of our enemies; they are all around."
-
-For a moment the Comtesse looked at the Governor; then, seeing that
-the others in the room were not close, she said:
-
-"Have you, a De Violaine of our unhappy province, forgotten how the
-eyes of all there are turned towards England? Even though I should
-'come into contact' with the English would that be harmful to me, or
-those of whom I am one?"
-
-"I have not forgotten that I am a soldier, a servant, of France," the
-other answered. "As one who has sworn a soldier's duty to his King I
-must, for the time, forget all else. Madame la Comtesse, I ask of you
-to return to the house from which you set out and remain there. You
-have been denounced to me as one who is desirous, for a purpose of
-which I know as well as you, of obtaining an audience of Lord
-Marlborough."
-
-"Denounced! Naturally, I do not desire to be informed of the name of
-my denouncer. I know it--and I pity him."
-
-De Violaine looked at her for a moment; then, turning towards Bevill,
-he said:
-
-"Monsieur, the name on your passport is not your name. You are, I am
-informed, an Englishman and a spy."
-
-"I am an Englishman, monsieur. I am no spy."
-
-"That you will have to prove, as well as your object in being here in
-any position except that of a spy. For the present you will be
-detained at the citadel. The gate," he said, addressing the Duc de
-Guise, "will be opened no more to-night."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXIII.
-
-
-Through all that had taken place in the guardroom, M. de Violaine had
-conducted himself as a gallant gentleman, and neither in his tone,
-words, nor bearing had there been any of that hectoring or browbeating
-towards one who, if he was what he had been denounced as being, might
-well have been subjected to such treatment.
-
-For a spy, found in a city subject to those who were already sore
-pressed by the very country to which that supposed spy belonged, could
-scarcely look for gentle treatment at the hands of one who was in
-command of the principal fortress of that city; while, polished as the
-French _noblesse_ and gentry might be, soldiering was conducted with a
-considerable amount of roughness at this time, and it was the habit of
-all in command in the chief European armies--which were the armies of
-England and France alone--to treat suspected prisoners with scant
-consideration.
-
-Yet Bevill could not complain of any roughness on the part of the man
-whose captive he now was. De Violaine, except that his manner was cold
-and austere towards him, had behaved as well as one gentleman brought
-into contact with another, and that other the subject of a hostile
-country, could have been expected to behave. For all of which there
-was a reason, over and above the fact that the prisoner was
-undoubtedly the friend of the woman whom De Violaine had once loved
-tenderly and hoped to win, as well as apparently something more than a
-friend of the beautiful companion of the Comtesse--that stately,
-handsome girl from whose eyes the tears had fallen fast in compassion
-for the man who was now his prisoner.
-
-This reason was that he had been face to face with the denouncer of
-Bevill, and, later, with Bevill himself--the denounced--and the first
-had impressed him unfavourably, while the second, Englishman though he
-was, had produced a vastly different effect on him.
-
-That morning, early, Francbois had obtained an audience with the
-Governor, and, after many crafty hints and a considerable amount of
-falsehood, had told sufficient to cause De Violaine to issue his
-orders for preventing Bevill and his companions from leaving Liege.
-
-But when Francbois, after stating that not only was the principal
-accused an Englishman, but also a spy of the enemy, as well as
-being a Protestant--whom he termed generally _heretiques_ and
-_reformes_--but also one who had committed other crimes against France
-which he would unfold, the soldier bade him be silent.
-
-"You state," De Violaine said, "that you can prove he is an
-Englishman; that he travels under a false name while bearing a
-passport made out in that false name, a French one. That is sufficient
-for his arrest."
-
-"Sufficient, monsieur, for his arrest! His arrest! But surely not
-sufficient--surely not--for his condemnation--his punishment?"
-
-"That will come later--at the court-martial, since it is by that he
-can alone be judged. Then you can tell all else you know."
-
-"A court-martial! Is that necessary? Is he not a spy and are not spies
-condemned without many formalities? Are not Protestants the enemies of
-France?"
-
-"No," De Violaine said, regarding coldly the man before him. "I am
-one. Am I an enemy of France? So, too, are half the inhabitants of
-this place, yet they submit."
-
-"Monsieur le Gouverneur is a Protestant!" Francbois exclaimed, taken
-aback at learning a fact of which he was in utter ignorance. "A
-Protestant!" he said again.
-
-"One of many who love France well and serve her well. Also, you speak
-of la Comtesse de Valorme, and state that you know what she is in
-Liege for. Knowing so much, you know too that she is of the reformed
-faith. Do you not suppose, also, that this Mademoiselle Thorne, this
-English girl of whom you speak, is the same?"
-
-"There is nought against Mademoiselle Thorne."
-
-"There will be if she attempts to leave Liege without my particular
-permission. Now go, monsieur. You have told me enough to cause them
-all to be prevented in their intention. Later, you can tell the
-officers who will judge this Englishman all that you know. Only," with
-a strange look in his eyes as De Violaine regarded Francbois, "be
-careful not to leave Liege yourself: you will be wanted."
-
-"I--I----" Francbois stammered, utterly taken aback, not only at the
-knowledge he had now obtained that the Governor was a Protestant, but
-also at learning that he himself would be required at whatever form of
-trial there might be. "I hoped that I should not be called upon to
-appear personally; I hoped that my information would be sufficient."
-
-"You will have to be present. Where is your abode?"
-
-"At--at----" But he paused. If he gave the house of Van Ryck as his
-place of abode he stigmatised himself as one who betrayed a woman
-dwelling under the same roof as he; while if, on the other hand, he
-told this man sitting before him and regarding him so coldly and
-contemptuously, that he was an inhabitant of the  Jesuit College, he
-proclaimed himself as one whom this Protestant soldier would regard
-with abhorrence and all other Frenchmen with mistrust.
-
-"Answer me," the Governor said, seeing that the other hesitated.
-"Answer, I say. Where do you dwell?"
-
-"I--I--am for the moment at the Jesuit College, Monsieur le
-Gouverneur," Francbois cried, seeing a look appear upon De Violaine's
-face which he could not comprehend, so strange, so inscrutable was it.
-"I am of the religion of France, as most Frenchmen are. There is no
-crime in consorting with Jesuits."
-
-But still De Violaine looked at Francbois, who now stood before him
-with his features white as a corpse within its shroud; while, as the
-former regarded him, he felt that he was trembling.
-
-"No," De Violaine said at last, speaking very calmly; "there is no
-harm in consorting with Jesuits, unless it be to do harm. Yet----"
-
-But now he paused and added nothing further, though still looking
-Francbois through and through with calm eyes.
-
-Inwardly, however, his reflections were profound.
-
-"The Jesuits' College!" he was saying to himself. "A portion of that
-confraternity which secretly is opposed to the claims of France to the
-Spanish Throne since, once possessed of Spain, France would attempt to
-suppress the Inquisition. The Jesuits' College in this place, from
-which De Boufflers has hinted more than once that news of our projects
-and plans is disseminated to the enemy. Ah! who is the greater spy on
-us--that Protestant Englishman of whom this man speaks, or he himself
-who harbours in that college under the sheltering wing of the order.
-_Carogne!_ if I trap one 'twere best I held the other in my hand as
-well," and once more the Governor's eyes fell on the man before him.
-
-"Monsieur," Francbois said now, as, still white and still trembling,
-he again met De Violaine's glance, "Monsieur, is my presence needed
-further? I--I--have affairs of consequence in hand."
-
-"Doubtless! Yet I have changed my mind. When do you say this
-Englishman masquerading as a Frenchman is about to quit the city with
-those ladies?"
-
-"To-night, Monsieur le Gouverneur--before the hour of eleven strikes."
-
-"So be it. You have told me much, but not sufficient. To-night, before
-eleven, they will all be stopped on their intended journey. The
-Englishman will be brought here"--"here" being the citadel in which
-this conversation was taking place--"and your charges against him must
-be made at once. It may be that all you state is capable of
-explanation."
-
-"Here, monsieur? I would have desired not to be present, not to be
-forced to accuse this spy face to face. A silent, an unknown, an
-absent witness is sometimes more useful than a present one. Yet, since
-monsieur desires it, it shall be so. I will be here. Monsieur may rely
-on me."
-
-"Reliance is not necessary," De Violaine replied, while knowing well
-that, if once this man was allowed to go, the inside of the citadel
-would never see him again. "You will remain here till the gate is shut
-and that man in our hands. He shall be brought here at once; you shall
-stand face to face with him and tell your tale. If what you state, and
-that which you say you can state further against him, cannot meet
-inquiry, he will be in grievous peril."
-
-"But, Monsieur le----"
-
-"No more. You will be well cared for, and, providing you speak truly,
-no harm can come to you." After which De Violaine struck upon a bell
-by his hand, and, upon the appearance of two of the men on guard
-outside, bade them remove the gentleman before them to a room in the
-north wing of the citadel and be careful to treat him with all care
-and attend well to his wants. But before Francbois was removed from
-his presence, and ere he reached the door, the Governor bade the men
-retire outside the room again until he summoned them. Then, when once
-more alone with Francbois, he said:
-
-"There is some reason for your denunciation of this Englishman. What
-is that reason? Is it to obtain money, reward?"
-
-"Monsieur?" Francbois exclaimed, making a sorry attempt to draw
-himself up to his full height and to look the Governor fairly in the
-face. "I am a gentleman--a Frenchman and--a patriot." But,
-impassively, De Violaine--though it may be that his shoulders were
-shrugged almost imperceptibly--continued:
-
-"Are these ladies with whom this Englishman will endeavour to leave
-the city known to you?"
-
-"Yes," Francbois replied, speaking truthfully, since he could not
-doubt that ere long--by eleven o'clock this night, if no sooner--any
-falsehood he might utter would be unmasked. "Yes. La Comtesse de
-Valorme is, in a manner, of my kin."
-
-"Of your kin?" while beneath his lips the other drew a quick breath.
-"Of your kin? La Comtesse de Valorme is kin to you! But there are many
-De Valormes in--in the South. Is she by chance the wife of Gabriel,
-Comte de Valorme, who was sent to the galleys for his religion?"
-
-"She is, monsieur, the widow of Gabriel. He died in the galley _Le
-Requin_."
-
-"Ah! so he is dead." And again De Violaine drew a subdued breath. Then
-he went on:
-
-"And the other lady? She is, you say, English. A countrywoman of this
-man whom you denounce. Who is she? What is she? What does she here in
-Liege?"
-
-That the French Governor should not know this was natural, since,
-between the military investors of Liege and those residing in the city
-there could be no intercourse whatever, or only the very slightest
-between the commanders of the former and the magistracy of the latter;
-and, consequently, all that Francbois now told him was unknown
-previously. But of Sylvia De Violaine asked no further questions, and,
-going to the door again, called in the guards and bade them escort
-Francbois to the room he had ordained.
-
-After which, and when left alone, he sat down in his chair again and
-gave himself up to his reflections and to many tender, yet sad,
-memories.
-
-"So Gabriel is dead," he said to himself. "Poor Gabriel. Dead in one
-of those accursed galleys. Dead! He to be dead thus! And Radegonde is
-here--here in Liege. Radegonde, the one woman who ever rose as a star
-above my life, the one woman who might have been the flower of that
-life. Yet it was never to be. Never! Never! When Gabriel came all hope
-was gone for me. Gone! Nay, it never existed. What was it she told me
-on that last night? That, had her heart been hers it should have been
-mine--only Gabriel had gained possession of it and would hold
-possession of it for ever. And now--now--Gabriel is dead, and it falls
-to me to interrupt her, to thwart her--her, to whom once I would have
-given my life had she demanded it."
-
-De Violaine brushed his hand swiftly across his eyes, thrust his chair
-back, and rose from it to pace the room, while muttering to himself,
-"That is done with, put away for ever. Duty alone remains--the duty,
-the allegiance I have sworn. A soldier's loyalty! No matter what he
-ordains," and his thoughts flew to far-off Versailles, "no matter how
-much she persuades him to evil, he is the King and I his soldier. Duty
-to him--and France! Yet, oh! that he were different."
-
-"As for this fellow," the Governor continued, contemptuously now, "who
-and what is he? Has _he_ dared to raise his eyes to Radegonde, to
-dream that he shall ever occupy the place Gabriel held; and does he
-hope by some low cunning, some base intrigue, to bring her to his
-hand? Emile Francbois! Emile Francbois! Ha! Have a care! You may have
-thwarted her, you may have brought this Englishman to the halter,
-but--there is rope enough in this fortress to hang more than one. A
-spy deserves no worse fate than a traitor."
-
-He sent for the officer of the guard now, and gave his orders for
-despatching a handful of cavalry under the command of one officer to
-one part of the town and a second to another part, and gave
-instructions that from dusk each should be on the watch for a
-carriage, containing two ladies and accompanied by a man on horseback,
-that would be making its way towards the only gate open after sunset.
-He also gave instructions that if this party was met with it should be
-conducted to that gate and there detained until he arrived at the
-conclusion of his rounds.
-
-And so the trap that Francbois had baited was set. No travellers such
-as he had described would be able to pass out of the city this night.
-While, so strong was the sense of duty, of loyalty to France,
-engrafted in the heart of De Violaine--badly as France was treating
-that class of her subjects to which he belonged--that, even had Madame
-de Valorme been his sister or his wife, he would not have permitted
-her to continue her journey--a journey on which she went, as he could
-very well imagine, with a view to conspiring with France's most
-powerful enemy, England, as represented in the presence of
-Marlborough.
-
-Yet it was hard to do!--hard to thwart the woman whom he had loved and
-lost, the woman he had once dreamed of winning for his wife; and hard,
-too, to prevent that woman from endeavouring to obtain help for those
-of his and her own faith now suffering for that faith.
-
-But if he drew his existence from those of that faith, so, too, he
-drew it from France, and, as one of her soldiers, he had sworn to
-protect her.
-
-Not even his love for a woman whom he had lost could make him false to
-that vow.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXIV.
-
-
-When De Violaine gave the order to the young Duc de Guise that the
-gate was to be opened no more for the night, Francbois, had he been
-present instead of in the citadel, might well have considered that he
-had succeeded in his betrayal of the man whom he regarded as his rival
-in the affections of Sylvia Thorne. For that man was now a prisoner in
-the hands of France; while the actual fact of his being in Liege by
-aid of a false passport was one that must in any case tell heavily
-against him. Also, some other statements--which were not facts--that
-Francbois was prepared to weave into his denunciation would, beyond
-all doubt, accomplish his destruction.
-
-That those statements would soon be made none who were present at this
-time could doubt when, following on the order to have the gate kept
-fast until daybreak, another was issued by the Governor.
-
-"Call Captain d'Aubenay," he said now to one of the mousquetaires
-under the command of De Guise, while, turning to Bevill, he continued.
-"You will be taken to the citadel; there you will hear the charge
-against you--the charge upon which, later, you will be tried, as well
-as upon another, of being present in a city under the control of
-France while falsely passing as a Frenchman."
-
-To which Bevill made no reply, except a courteous bow, since he deemed
-silence best.
-
-But, if he had nothing to say, one person at least--the Comtesse de
-Valorme--saw no reason for also being silent.
-
-Approaching De Violaine, who stood some little distance apart from the
-rest, she said therefore:
-
-"There is but one man in all Liege who can have denounced your newly
-acquired prisoner. That man is named Emile Francbois"; while,
-remarking that the other neither assented to nor denied this
-statement, she added, "It is so, is it not?"
-
-But still De Violaine kept silence, whereupon the Comtesse continued,
-while adopting now a different form of inquiry--a more impersonal one.
-
-"Whosoever the man may be," she said, "who has thought fit to testify
-against monsieur, to formulate the charges against him of which you
-speak--charges of which you could not otherwise have known--he must
-have sought you out to do so. Monsieur, I beseech of you to at least
-answer this, even though you answer nothing else."
-
-Whereupon, stung by the coldness of his questioner, stung also by the
-almost contemptuous tone in which she spoke--she whom once he had
-loved so much--De Violaine replied:
-
-"The person who has informed against the prisoner waited upon me at
-the citadel."
-
-"And is present there now to repeat his charges against--the
-prisoner?"
-
-To which question De Violaine contented him by answering with an
-inclination of his head.
-
-"So be it," the Comtesse replied, and there was in her tone a
-bitterness that her listener could never have supposed her to be
-possessor of. "So be it. I know--nay, we all know"--with a glance that
-swept over Sylvia and Bevill--"who this informer is. But, since
-Monsieur le Gouverneur is by the way of listening to his informers,"
-and she saw De Violaine start and flush as she spoke, "he will not
-refuse to give audience to another informer--at the citadel."
-
-"Another!"
-
-"Yes, another. Myself! Monsieur de Violaine will not perform his duty
-to France in a half-hearted manner. He gives open ear to the first one
-who tells him of spies being about he will not surely turn a deaf ear
-to a second informer who wishes to denounce a traitor."
-
-"A traitor? Who is he? And who is to denounce him?"
-
-"I am the latter. The man you received in the citadel--Emile
-Francbois--is the former. I claim the right to be received at the
-citadel by you in the same manner that you received that man. Only, my
-denunciation shall be an open one, made before others--not one made,
-as doubtless this was, within closed doors."
-
-"So be it. The right is yours. When will Madame la Comtesse honour me
-by----"
-
-"When? To-night. Now. At once!"
-
-"At once? It grows late."
-
-"Late! What matters the lateness of the night in comparison with the
-exposure of a villain? Monsieur de Violaine, I demand to be allowed to
-accompany your prisoner to the citadel and to hear what Emile
-Francbois has to assert against him."
-
-"And I also," Sylvia said, since [illegible] ...tion had ceased by now
-to be c [illegible] ... tones and could easily be overheard in the
-guardroom.
-
-"You, Mademoiselle!" De Violaine exclaimed, not knowing but that
-Sylvia was, in absolute truth, that which she was supposed to be,
-namely the _dame de compagnie_ of Madame de Valorme. "You? Surely
-Madame la Comtesse does not require your support at such a scene."
-
-"That," Sylvia said, as she stood tall and erect before the Governor,
-so that he no longer deemed he was speaking to any other than a woman
-who was herself of equal rank and position with the Comtesse, "that is
-not the question. It was to enable me, to assist me to leave Liege,
-to protect me as I did so, that your prisoner made his way to this
-city--for this that the base, crawling creature, Francbois, denounced
-him to you."
-
-"You are then Mademoiselle Thorne?"
-
-"I am Mademoiselle Thorne. If Francbois has much to tell you about
-Monsieur Bracton, since that is his rightful name, so too have I," and
-as Sylvia spoke her eyes were turned for a moment towards Bevill--for
-a moment only, but it was enough. Enough to tell Bevill that, even
-though he should be condemned to-night and executed at dawn, it
-mattered little now. That glance had told him more than a hundred
-words could do: it had told him he was the possessor of Sylvia's love!
-
-*    *    *    *    *    *    *
-
-The _salle d'armes_ of the citadel, in which half an hour later De
-Violaine, the Comtesse, Sylvia, and Bevill stood, was large enough for
-half a regiment to bivouac in, and had, indeed, in past ages served
-for such a purpose, as well as many another of blacker memory. For in
-that great hall, wainscotted with oak from floor to roof, that dark
-hall in which those who stood at one end of it by night could scarce
-see to the other, deeds of blood and cruelty had been perpetrated the
-recollection of which had not by then been effaced. Here prisoners
-innumerable had heard their doom pronounced; while on other occasions
-those within the citadel had made many a last stand ere being captured
-or slain.
-
-To-night this hall was but partly lighted by the wood that flamed in a
-huge cresset at the further end of it, and by great, common candles
-that flared from sconces fixed into the walls, while dropping masses
-of grease to the open floor as they did so.
-
-Yet, sombre as was the light thus obtained, it served well enough for
-what was now occurring. It served to show De Violaine standing before
-the enormous empty fireplace that reached to the roof--one in which
-many persons might sit as in a room and warm themselves on winter
-nights; to show, also, the Comtesse de Valorme and Sylvia seated
-together on a huge oaken bench on which, in earlier days than these,
-Spanish, Burgundian, French, and Walloon soldiers had lolled as the
-citadel was held in turn by their various rulers and generals--a bench
-on which at times trembling prisoners had awaited the pronouncement of
-their doom. Also, that light showed Bevill standing erect and calm not
-far from where Sylvia was seated, with, behind him, four troopers of
-the Regiment de Risbourg, which was quartered partly in the citadel
-and partly in the Chartreuse, or Carthusian, monastery.
-
-There was, however, one other man present, behind whom there also
-stood four soldiers. One other--Francbois. Francbois, white as a
-phantom, yet speaking with an assumption of calm while protesting that
-that which he was now saying was uttered in the interests of France
-and justice.
-
-This protestation made, Francbois went on to state how, from the
-moment he had seen the prisoner on the Quai, he had recognised him as
-an Englishman with whom he had been at school in Paris years before;
-and, consequently, in the interests of his beloved France he had
-resolved to discover what reasons he might have for being in Liege.
-
-"Was it not possible," De Violaine asked, in his clear, quiet voice,
-"that the reason the prisoner now gives for his presence here may have
-been the true one--that he had come from England to escort his
-compatriot, Mademoiselle Thorne, back to their country?"
-
-"Monsieur, had that been so this Englishman, Bracton, would have
-proceeded differently. From the moment he landed at Antwerp, almost
-from the first moment, his actions were marked by deceit and, alas! by
-wickedness unparalleled. He landed under the assumed name that he has
-borne here--Andre de Belleville. When he was recognised as an
-Englishman by one whom he had deeply injured in earlier days, one whom
-he had driven to ruin, he passed as an officer of Mousquetaires named
-Le Blond----"
-
-"Le Blond of the Mousquetaires. He is long since dead. I knew him
-well."
-
-"And I," said the Comtesse. "He was my cousin."
-
-"Monsieur," said Francbois, "it was that dead man's papers he
-possessed himself of. The very horse he rides was that of Le Blond."
-
-"How," asked De Violaine, still with ominous calm, "are you acquainted
-with these matters?"
-
-"Monsieur, the man whom he had so injured tracked him here--tracked
-him when he had recovered from the wound inflicted on him at St. Trond
-by the prisoner."
-
-"It is false," Bevill said now, speaking for the first time; "by
-whomsoever the man may have been wounded at St Trond, that wound was
-not given by me." While, as he spoke, he learnt for the first time how
-it was that Sparmann had not denounced him at St. Trond, how it was
-that he had been enabled to quit St. Trond without molestation.
-
-"In what way," said De Violaine, repeating what he had said before,
-"are you acquainted with these matters? You tell me that they have
-happened. What I desire to learn is who you have obtained your
-knowledge of them?"
-
-"Monsieur le Gouverneur, that man--his name was Sparmann--came to
-Liege when his wound was healed, still determined to expose, to
-denounce the Englishman. He and I met--by--by--accident, and I
-discovered what his intention was."
-
-"It is strange that the only two men in Antwerp who desired to
-denounce the prisoner should have met. What was this man?"
-
-"He was a Hollander who had been vanquished by the prisoner in a duel.
-For that he fell into ill-favour. Later, he became a spy of France."
-
-"A spy! You consort with spies!"
-
-"Ah!" murmured the Comtesse de Valorme at these words of the Governor,
-yet the murmur was loud enough for all present to hear, and to notice
-also that it was full of meaning--so full that, unconsciously, De
-Violaine's eyes were turned to her for an instant. Then the latter
-continued:
-
-"Nevertheless, this man has not denounced the prisoner. It may be he
-confided that task to you."
-
-
-[Illustration: "'I denounce this man.'"--_p_.755.]
-
-
-"Monsieur," Francbois said now, and it was apparent to all that he was
-about to make his supreme effort, "Monsieur," drawing himself up to
-his full height, "I denounce this man, not because the task was
-confided to me--I am no spy, no denouncer, whose office it is to do
-these things--but because that other is not here to do it for himself.
-He was murdered by that man, that Englishman, your prisoner!"
-
-"Liar!" exclaimed Bevill, and in a moment he had sprung at Francbois,
-when, seizing him in a grasp of iron, he would have throttled him had
-not the troopers intervened and torn Francbois from his grasp. "Liar!
-If 'twas any who slew him that night in the Weiss Haus 'twas you!"
-though even as he spoke he had his doubts, remembering the signs he
-had discovered of the presence of a third man beside himself in
-Sylvia's house.
-
-But now, amidst the excitement caused by Francbois' words and Bevill's
-prompt action to avenge them, amidst the contemptuous exclamations of
-both Sylvia and the Comtesse against Francbois (while, as the former
-spoke, she had sprung from the oak bench and stood by Bevill's side,
-whispering words of belief in his innocence of the horrible deed of
-which he had been accused), De Violaine's quiet tones fell once more
-on all their ears.
-
-"You declare this man murdered that other one, that spy. What is your
-proof?"
-
-"I saw him do it," Francbois replied, though as he spoke he was
-careful to draw close to the side of the soldiers. "I had gone there
-with Sparmann to assist in capturing this man."
-
-"Yet did not give help. Had you no weapon with which to assist your
-'friend,' your '_confrere_,' or, unable to do that, no power to avenge
-his death?"
-
-"I--I----" Francbois stammered. "I----"
-
-"Enough!" De Violaine said. "Your story does not bear the impress of
-truth upon it. Remove him," he said now to four of the soldiers. "It
-needs," he continued, "that I learn more of you--of who and what you
-are. There lies more matter behind all this than you have seen fit to
-divulge."
-
-"That you shall know at once--on the instant!" the Comtesse exclaimed.
-"Let him remain here and listen to what I have to narrate. Also let
-Mr. Bracton remain. Beside what else there is to tell of that man,
-Francbois, he hates this Englishman for a reason he has not deemed it
-well to divulge--for the reason that he believes Sylvia Thorne----"
-
-"What!" De Violaine exclaimed, startled.
-
-"For the reason that he believes I love this man," Sylvia said,
-drawing even closer to Bevill as she spoke, and holding out her hand
-to him. Then, as Bevill clasped it in both of his, she turned and
-looked the others proudly in the face, while adding: "As in truth I
-do. If you slay him on that wretch's word, you slay the man I
-love--the man who, I pray, may live to call me wife; the man who has
-risked, perhaps thrown away, his life for me."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXV.
-
-
-The declaration by Sylvia of her love for Bevill had caused so much
-agitation among those assembled in that gloomy _salle d'armes_ that,
-for the moment, all forgot there was another declaration to be
-heard--namely, the denunciation of Francbois by the Comtesse de
-Valorme. To him who was most principally concerned--to Bevill
-Bracton--the proclamation of Sylvia's love came not, however, so much
-as a surprise--since, had she not loved him, the words she had but
-hitherto whispered would never have been uttered at all by one so
-calmly dignified and self-contained as she--as a joy supreme. In the
-joy, too, was merged an honest, manly pride in having won for himself
-the love of a woman who nobly, before all present, had not hesitated
-openly to avow that love.
-
-And still, even now that the love was acknowledged, every action of
-the girl as he drew close to her and, in his deepest murmur, whispered
-his own love and pride in her, but tended to increase his reverence.
-For as she--disdained all assumption of embarrassment, of having
-uttered words before others which, in ordinary cases, should have been
-whispered in his ears alone--now stood by his side with her hand still
-clasped in his, and with her calm, clear eyes fixed on him, he
-recognised more fully than ever he had done before how royally she was
-clad with womanly dignity. It was given to him to understand how that
-outspoken love for him had become her even as, oft-times, the murmured
-confession of their love by other women becomes them.
-
-"Sylvia," he said now, "what shall I say, how prove to you all that is
-in my heart? How repay the love you have given me, the love I hoped so
-dearly to win?"
-
-
-"Repay! Is it not mine to repay? You might have left me here alone. It
-was in your power to go, yet you resolved to stay. And," she said,
-gazing at him, "I love you. The words you uttered last night told me
-of your love for me; to-night I have avowed my own in return. Yet,
-ah!" she almost gasped, "in what a place, in what a spot, to plight
-our troth, to exchange vows!"
-
-"Fear not, sweet one. The place matters nothing; the balm is
-administered, is here," and he touched the lace above his heart. "Even
-though they keep me prisoner for months, even though they slay me for
-being that which, God knows, I am not----"
-
-"No, no, no! Not that! Not that!" she murmured, losing momentarily her
-self-control and clenching her under-lip between her teeth to hide its
-trembling. "Not that. It cannot be." Then looking up at him more
-firmly, though now he saw her eyes were welling over with tears, she
-added, "We have not met thus to part thus. It cannot, cannot be."
-
-"By Heaven's grace we will never part. Once free of this, once safe,
-and--together--always together--we will never part on earth again.
-Heart up, my sweet! Heart up!" While, as he spoke, the pressure of his
-hand by hers told him that, as far as resolution could come to her
-aid, she would never despair. Nay, more--if such a thing might
-be--it conveyed in some subtle form to him the knowledge, the
-assurance, that if there lay in her power any chance of saving him,
-that chance would be exerted. Yet how, he asked himself, could she do
-aught towards saving him?
-
-What was there to be done? His presence in this city, his assumption
-of being French while actually the subject of France's most determined
-enemy, was enough.
-
-Meanwhile, there were others present--one other at least, the
-Comtesse--to whom this declaration of Sylvia had, if it came as a
-surprise at all, only come as one by the manner in which it was made.
-For she had seen enough, had observed enough to comprehend how, day by
-day, this man and woman had been gradually drawing nearer and nearer
-to one another; to discern how dear to each was the presence of the
-other, and to perceive that, as so they were drawn closer and closer
-together, the strands that drew them must tighten more and more until
-they could never be unloosed.
-
-But if this avowal carried, therefore, no surprise to Madame de
-Valorme, to Francbois it brought an added agony to that which had gone
-before, even if, to him also, it brought no surprise. For he could not
-but ask himself what he had gained by his betrayal of this man--a
-betrayal that alone would have been justified, alone might have
-claimed extenuation, had it been the outcome of an honest,
-straightforward desire to serve the country he belonged to by injuring
-its enemies.
-
-"Gained?" he reflected. He had gained nothing, while losing much,
-perhaps everything. Sylvia Thorne loved this man; she was not the
-woman to ever love another--above all, not him who had betrayed the
-beloved one. And, yes he had given this rival into the hands of the
-enemy. It might be, it doubtless was the case, that he had brought
-about his doom; but there--there!--but a few paces from him was one,
-his own connection, who was now about to send him also to his doom.
-For she knew enough to do so; she had told him so that night in the
-lane when, after the Englishman had disarmed him, she had taken him
-apart, even as, in the same breath, she had told him that if harm came
-to that other so it should come to him. And now--now--it had come to
-that other. In a few more moments it would come to him. She was about
-to speak. Gained! Out of his own mouth, by his own evil disposition,
-he had brought about his own fate.
-
-As his mind was tortured thus the Comtesse de Valorme commenced the
-exposure which must lead to his undoing.
-
-"Monsieur de Violaine," he heard her saying now, even as every fibre
-in his body trembled and seemed to become relaxed and flaccid, while
-the moisture stood in great drops on his cheeks and forehead, "you
-have heard Mr. Bracton proclaimed a spy, though he is none, but only a
-man who assumed a false name, a false nationality, to help a woman
-whom," she added, "he loves. He is no spy; but, if he were, is a spy
-worse than a traitor?"
-
-De Violaine started as she uttered these words, since he remembered
-how the same thought, the same question, had arisen in his own mind
-that very day; then in reply he said:
-
-"Each is an evil thing--contemned by all honourable men. Yet one man's
-evil-doing does not justify that of another."
-
-"That is undoubted. Yet listen. This man," her eyes on Bevill, "is no
-spy; this one," and they fell with withering contempt on Francbois,
-"is a traitor."
-
-"Have you proof of your words?" De Violaine asked, his marvellous calm
-always maintained.
-
-"Proof? Ay, as much as you require. Le Marechal de Boufflers comes
-here ere long, it is said, to see that all is prepared, all ready to
-resist the Allies; to, it is also said, resist Marlborough himself.
-When he comes show him these, after you have read them yourself." As
-she spoke thus the Comtesse de Valorme thrust her hand beneath the
-great _houppelande_, or travelling cloak, she had set out in and still
-wore; while, thrusting it next into the lace of her dress, she drew
-forth a small bundle of papers. "There is enough matter there," she
-said, "to hang a score of traitors." After which, turning to
-Francbois, she added: "You should have burnt those long ago instead
-of keeping them; or, keeping them, should have found sanctuary for
-them in the college of your friends and patrons, the Jesuits. Van
-Ryk's house, the house of a heretic," she said bitterly, "was a poor
-depository for such things; the bureau in a room sometimes occupied by
-a heretic woman the worst place of all."
-
-But Francbois was now almost in a state of collapse; it was necessary
-for the stalwart troopers of the Risbourg dragoons to support him. For
-at last he knew that, whatever might be the fate of this Englishman
-whom he had striven to ruin, there was no ray of doubt about his own
-fate; while--and this was the bitterest of all--he had brought that
-fate upon himself. She, this tigress in woman's form, as he called her
-to himself, had warned him in the lane behind Van Ryk's house that it
-would be so if he betrayed the other; she had said the very same words
-that she had but just now uttered; had said that she had enough proof
-against him to hang a score of traitors. Only--she had not told him
-the exact nature of that proof. While he, who received so many letters
-by channels so devious that he could scarce remember how each reached
-his hands, had lost all memory of how once, when disturbed, he had
-thrust a small packet of them into the topmost drawer of an old bureau
-in a room that he generally occupied, except when other guests were in
-the house. In absolute fact, he had forgotten that bundle of letters
-until now.
-
-For some moments Francbois could not speak; his breath seemed to have
-failed him. Nay more, even though the breath had been there to give
-utterance to his words, his mind was incapable of forming thoughts
-that, in their turn, should be expressed in words. He could but gasp
-and whine and raise his hand to his brow to wipe away the hot sweat
-oozing from it; he was so prostrate that the sturdy dragoons holding
-him thought that he would sink lifeless to the floor. Yet all the time
-he knew that the eyes of the others were upon him, were fixed coldly
-and contemptuously on him; the eyes of all except those of De
-Violaine, who, beneath the greasy candle guttering in their sockets,
-was reading the papers he had but now received. Yet, once Francbois
-saw that the Governor turned over a letter again and re-read it, and
-that--then he raised his eyes from the sheet and also looked at him
-for an instant. In that instant Francbois anticipated, perhaps
-experienced, the agonies of death a hundred times.
-
-
-[Illustration: "Francbois saw that the Governor turned over a letter
-again."]
-
-
-At last, however, he found his voice: thoughts to utter by its aid
-came to him. Struggling in the troopers' arms, he raised himself into
-a firmer, a more upright position and was able to assume something
-more of the attitude of a man. Then, freeing his right hand from the
-grasp of one of the soldiers--the hand in which he held his
-handkerchief, now a rolled-up ball--he lifted and pointed it towards
-the Comtesse; after which he said, in a harsh, dry, raucous voice:
-
-"Spies! You--you--both--have talked of these." It may be he forgot in
-his frenzy that from him alone had such talk originated. "So be it.
-Yet, besides this English bully, this swashbuckler who slays in dark
-houses, those who would bring him to justice, are then no others
-present? What is this woman who in her self-righteousness denounces me
-as a traitor----"
-
-"She has done more; she has proved you to be one," the Comtesse said.
-
-"What is she?" Francbois went on. "What? Her husband died a traitor at
-the galleys; if women could be punished thus, she would be in a fair
-way to do so, too. Is she no traitor? She? She who is here to meet
-with Marlborough, or Cutts, or Athlone; to throw herself in their
-path, to intrigue with them for an invasion of the South--she who
-would have escaped to-night with those others had I not warned you of
-her. Warned you! There was no need of that! You who, like her, are of
-the South--a Camisard, a Cevenole."
-
-Again De Violaine looked at this man, and the look had in it more
-terror for the abject creature than a thousand words might have
-possessed; after which, addressing the soldiers, he said:
-
-"Remove both prisoners--each to a cell. Each of you," addressing both
-Bevill and Francbois, "will be subjected to a general court-martial
-when a sufficiency of officers can be collected to form it, and after
-the Marechal de Boufflers and the Duc de Maine have been consulted.
-Mesdames," addressing the Comtesse and Sylvia, "you must return whence
-you set out. The Captain d'Aubenay and his men shall escort you."
-
-Thus the expedition, the escape from Liege, had failed, since all who
-were to have gone on it, as well as he who prevented its
-accomplishment, were prisoners. For that the Comtesse de Valorme and
-Sylvia were now in a way--though a different one--as much prisoners as
-Bevill Bracton and Francbois they could not doubt. Except that they
-would be free of Van Ryk's house and gardens--free, possibly, of the
-city itself--instead of being confined in some room, or rooms, in the
-citadel, all freedom was gone from them, and they knew and understood
-that it was so.
-
-But, still, in each of those women's hearts there had sprung up some
-hope for the future, the reason whereof neither could have explained,
-since whence hope was to come neither of them knew. From De Violaine
-there was, of a certainty, nothing to be looked for. Though no
-Camisard or Cevenole, as Francbois had stated, he was, nevertheless, a
-Protestant serving a cruel King who oppressed those of his faith; yet,
-being one, the Comtesse de Valorme knew well that nothing would turn
-him from his loyalty. Neither his early love for her, nor any hope
-that, now she was free, he might win her love, nor his belief--if such
-were possible--that Bevill had done nothing to merit condemnation as a
-spy, would weaken his fidelity so long as he bore the commission of
-Louis. From him there was nothing to be looked for but a stern,
-unflinching execution of his duty. And, if not from him, whence should
-hope come? At present they could find no answer to this question that
-they had each asked of their own hearts; they saw no glimmering ray to
-give them confidence. And still--still each hoped already, and the
-hope would never die within their hearts until the last chance was
-gone.
-
-"I love him I love him! I love him!" Sylvia was whispering to herself
-now, even as preparations were being made to remove Bevill from this
-old, dark, and weird hall that reeked of the memories of innumerable
-cruelties; Francbois being already removed. "I love him. And--and he
-thought to save me. He deemed I needed assistance, rescue. Now it is
-he who needs earthly salvation, he whose impending lot cries for
-prompt succour. Ah, well! help, succour, shall be forthcoming unless I
-die in an attempt to obtain it. Oh!" she gasped, her hands to her
-breast, "they are leading him away--from me!"
-
-With one swift movement she was by Bevill's side; a moment later she
-was clasped to his heart; another, and he was murmuring words of love
-and farewell in her ears.
-
-"Adieu! Adieu, Sylvia," he said. "Nay, my sweet!" he whispered, "let
-fall no tears; weep not for me. I have won your love; the happiest
-hours of my life have come. Since I may be no more by your side--as
-yet--I have the thoughts of you to solace me; the thought, the pride
-of knowing I have won your love, that I alone dwell in your heart."
-
-While, seeing that De Violaine in his delicacy had turned his eyes
-away, and was gazing into the great empty fireplace until this sad
-parting should be made; seeing, too, that even the rough troopers had
-turned their eyes from them, he embraced Sylvia for the first
-time--the first time and, as he feared, the last.
-
-"I love you," he whispered. "Whate'er betide, remember my last words
-are these. Remember that, if the worst befalls, my last thought shall
-be of you, my last prayer for you, your name the last word on my lips.
-Farewell."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXVI.
-
-
-The weather that, through the latter part of June and July, had held
-so fine, had changed at last. With that persistency which for
-centuries has caused all in the Netherlands to say that their climate
-is the worst in Europe, or at least the most unreliable, a rainy
-season had again set in accompanied by considerable cold. The rivers
-were so swollen now that, in the case of all the great ones, the
-usually slow, turgid streams had turned into swirling volumes of
-water, resembling those which, in mountainous regions, pour forth from
-their icy sources; even the smaller waterways had overflowed their
-banks and submerged the low-lying fields around them. Thus, except in
-some particular instances, all military operations had come to an end
-for the time; the thousands of soldiers who composed the rival armies,
-and were drawn from half the countries in Europe, lay idle in their
-tents--when they had any--or in some town they had possessed
-themselves of; or, in many cases, on the rain-soaked ground.
-
-Of these armies none suffered worse than did the principal portion of
-the English forces--namely, that under the Earl of Marlborough. For
-the torrid heat of July was all gone now--that heat of which, but a
-week or so before, Marlborough had made mention in one of his frequent
-letters to his wife, while adding the hope that it would ripen the
-fruit in their gardens at St. Albans, the gardens so dear to him since
-he knew well enough that she walked in them daily and thought always
-of him. For whatever John Churchill's faults might be, and whatever
-the faults of his beautiful but shrewish wife might be, neither failed
-in their absorbing love for one another--the love that had sprung into
-their hearts when he was but a colonel and gentleman of the bedchamber
-to the Duke of York and she a maid of honour to the Duchess.
-
-The heat and fine weather were gone, and for refuge, there was little
-but the open left for the English troops. It was true Kaiserswoerth was
-taken at this time, Breda was occupied by the English, Maestricht was
-the same, and Nimeguen had been long in our hands; but with these
-exceptions Marlborough, with 60,000 men under his command, lay almost
-entirely in the open. His lordship was at this time at Grave on the
-Meuse on his way to Venloo, there to attempt the siege and capture of
-that town, it lying some forty-five miles south of Grave and fifty
-miles north of Liege.
-
-But however impassable, or almost impassable, the roads were at this
-present moment, traffic on them, other than that caused by the French
-and allied armies, had not ceased, for the sufficient reason that it
-could by no possibility do so. Along every road there streamed wagons
-and provisions, which, since the latter were to be offered to the
-first would-be purchasers, were in little danger of being seized as
-contraband of war by either side, especially as both the contending
-forces paid for what they appropriated, though, as often as not, the
-payment was not what the vendors demanded.
-
-Horsemen were also frequent on these same roads, since, provided they
-were neither soldiers nor spies, nor bearers of despatches or
-disguised letters, as was soon apparent if they were stopped and
-searched rigorously, they were not molested, though in many cases the
-errands upon which they rode were more harmful than even secret news
-might have been. For many of these men were, under the assumed titles
-of suttlers and army agents, nothing more nor less than professional
-gamblers and "bankers," who, once they had got within the lines of
-either army, contrived not only to strip the officers of all the ready
-money they possessed, but also, in cases where they knew the standing
-and family of many of these officers, to lend them money (which they
-afterwards won back from them) at exorbitant rates of interest, the
-payment of which frequently crippled them or their families for years.
-
-Besides these, there haunted the neighbourhood of the armies, like
-ghouls or vampires, or those vultures which can scent bloodshed from
-afar, a class of women, most of whom were horribly bedizened and
-painted hags, who followed, perhaps, one of the most dreadful trades
-to which women have ever turned their attention. But, though they
-passed along these roads under false names and sometimes titles, and
-rode in good hired vehicles and, as often as not, in handsome ones
-that were their own property, they presented a different appearance
-when a battle had taken place. For then their silks and satins, their
-paint and patches, their lace and jewels, and also their pinchbeck
-titles of marchionesses and countesses and baronesses, were discarded,
-and they stood forth as they really were--as women still in women's
-garb, it is true, yet in all else furies. With knives in their
-girdles; with, in outside pockets or bags, the hilts of pistols and
-some times--nay, often--rude surgical instruments bulging forth; with,
-too, more than one gold-laced coat buttoned across them, or with the
-sleeves knotted and with their other pockets crammed with scraps of
-lace and costly wigs, and miniatures and gold pieces, they stood forth
-as those earthly cormorants, _les chercheuses des morts_, and, in most
-cases, as the murderesses of the living. With their knives or pistols
-they put an end to the lives of wounded men, whom they afterwards
-robbed of their money and trinkets, and, also with those knives, they
-scalped the dying, since hair was valuable. Likewise, with their
-surgical instruments they wrenched the teeth, also valuable, out of
-dying or dead men's heads; while, if the wounded were still able to
-protect themselves, they played another part, that of the Good
-Samaritan, and offered them a drink of Nantz or usquebaugh, which
-generally finished the business, since it was usually poisoned.
-
-Along a road between Venloo and Grave, over which a dyke had
-overflowed from the heavy rains, so that the horses passing over it
-were fetlock deep in mud, there went now a vehicle, or, rather, rough
-country cart, springless and having for shelter nothing but a rough
-covering of coarse tarred canvas supported on bent lathes. Seated on
-the shaft of this cart was an old man who, out of tenderness for the
-value of the beast that drew it, if not for the beast itself, never
-proceeded at any but the slowest pace possible. Inside, under the
-awning or cover, were Sylvia and Madame de Valorme, who, as is now
-apparent, had managed to escape out of Liege.
-
-Yet it had been hard to do, and doubly hard to these two women, who,
-the soul of honour, had to deal with one other--De Violaine--who was
-himself a mirror of honour and loyalty.
-
-And still they had done it.
-
-In common with many other escapes recorded in past and even present
-days, theirs had been accomplished in the most simple manner, namely,
-by simplicity itself. Indeed, captives who, with their appearance
-unknown to their warders, had walked out of their prisons, both before
-and after this time; men who had been known to stroll out of such
-places as the Bastille, or Vincennes, or Bicetre, and sometimes from
-English prisons and lockups, as well as he who, on the road to the
-guillotine, had escaped by the simple device of dropping out of the
-back of the _charrette_ and then crying "_Vive la Revolution!_" and
-"_A bas les aristocrats!_" had not done so more easily than had these
-two women.
-
-Only, it had taken time for Sylvia and the Comtesse to arrange their
-plans, and time, they soon knew, was of all things the most precious.
-For De Violaine, who had one morning come down to the Comtesse de
-Valorme from the citadel with a view to asking her why she had
-jeopardised her own freedom by espousing the desires of the
-Englishman, had confessed that, though Bevill could not at present be
-brought to trial, his peril was still extreme.
-
-"De Boufflers is here," he said; "he has come to draw off all troops
-that can be spared, as well as to examine the state of defence in
-which Liege is."
-
-"To draw off the troops!" the Comtesse and Sylvia both exclaimed,
-while the latter felt her heart sink within her at his words. "Is Lord
-Marlborough not coming?"
-
-"Alas! it is because he is coming, mademoiselle, that it is done. We
-who are French desire to oppose your general in every way, so that he
-shall not reach Liege," and De Violaine sighed as he spoke; for he
-knew as well as De Boufflers that, if Marlborough appeared before
-Liege with one-fifth of those 60,000 men who were now under his
-command, the city would probably fall an easy prey to him.
-
-"Why should this prevent an innocent or, at least, a harmless man from
-being put to his trial and released?" the Comtesse asked. "What evil
-has he, in truth, done? He has but committed a gallant action in
-attempting to carry away to safety the compatriot whom he loves, the
-woman who loves him."
-
-Now, in one way, Sylvia and the Comtesse had thrown dust in the
-Governor's eyes from the beginning; they had concealed from him the
-knowledge that Sylvia and Bevill had not been lovers when first the
-latter made his way into Liege--the one piece of information, as they
-shrewdly guessed, which might stand as Bevill's excuse, his
-justification, for doing that which he had done.
-
-"And," the Comtesse continued, "beyond this, what sin against France
-has Mr. Bracton committed? Is the fact that he, being an Englishman,
-should also be a Protestant a crime?"
-
-"Nay, nay," De Violaine said; "that is no crime, else you and I are
-criminals; but----"
-
-"But what?"
-
-"There are other matters that may weigh heavily against him. Ah!
-mademoiselle," he cried suddenly, hearing a slight exclamation issue
-from Sylvia's lips while noticing that the rich colouring had fled
-from her cheeks, and that she seemed about to swoon, "I beseech of you
-to take this calmly. All may be well yet."
-
-"What are these other matters, monsieur? On my part, I beseech you to
-tell me," Sylvia almost gasped.
-
-"I--I? Nay, what need to tell? He may be absolved by the court that
-tries him; his attempt to save the woman he loved may justify all. We
-of our land are sometimes self-sacrificing in our love," with a swift
-glance at Madame de Valorme; "we should scarcely bear hardly on a foe
-for being so."
-
-Other glances that De Violaine did not see had, however, been
-exchanged as he spoke thus--the glances of the two women as he uttered
-those words, "his attempt to save the woman he loved may justify all."
-Glances that conveyed to each the thought that was in the other's
-mind--the understanding that, in no circumstances, must it ever be
-known that the love had come to Bevill and Sylvia after they had met
-in Liege, and not before. If that were known or discovered, one of
-their principal hopes for his escape was gone. Also, as each of those
-women flashed the signal to the other, each remembered, and in
-remembering thanked Heaven, that even that base and crawling creature,
-Francbois, believed the love to be of an earlier origin than Bevill's
-arrival. Thence, therefore, sprang the hope that one frail chance in
-his favour might still remain, and that, from this secret, aid might
-be forthcoming.
-
-In an instant, however, since glances are almost as swift as lightning
-itself, the episode had passed and Sylvia had asked once more:
-
-"What are those other matters? Ah! do not torture me with concealment.
-You--surely you, must, noble as you appear to be--must have loved some
-woman once, have won the desired love of some true woman. Think, I
-implore you, think if her feelings had ever been wrung as mine are
-now, if she had ever been distraught as I am, how your heart would
-have been stirred with misery for her. Ah," she cried again, unable to
-restrain her sobs, "if you cannot pity me, at least show pity for my
-grief, my misfortune."
-
-"From my heart I pity you, mademoiselle," De Violaine said, while as
-he spoke his voice was calm as ever, though, nevertheless, both women
-knew that the calmness was but due to self-control. "Even though," and
-now it seemed as if he braced himself to utter the next words, "I
-may--never--have known what love is; above all, have--never--known
-what it is to win the desired love of some true woman. Yet is pity
-shown to those who suffer, to those who fear, by placing our hand upon
-the sore, by telling them where the evil lurks?"
-
-"What we know is less than awful imaginings. Let me learn the worst
-against the man I love," Sylvia continued, and now she was drawn to
-her full height once more; except that her cheeks were still wet with
-recent tears she was herself again. Tall, upright, almost commanding,
-beautiful as ever, she stood before De Violaine, and, in her nobility
-of nature, seemed to issue an order he dared not disregard. "Let me
-know the worst. I will not live in further suspense."
-
-"A letter has been found upon him."
-
-"A letter! What letter?" her thoughts flying back fondly to the one he
-had brought from her guardian--the letter that had commended Bevill
-Bracton so much to her regard--the letter she had kept and read a
-hundred times.
-
-"A letter from one who is our bitterest foe--a restless, intriguing
-man seeking ever his country's glory and aggrandisement at the expense
-of ours; ever intriguing against us, setting those who are well
-disposed to us against us----"
-
-"Who is this man, perchance?"
-
-"The Earl of Peterborough."
-
-"Ah! and is he all that you say? He is my guardian, and was my
-father's dearest, earliest friend."
-
-"Your guardian! Your father's dearest friend!" De Violaine repeated,
-while inwardly he said to himself, "This must never be known.
-Otherwise, Heaven help her! She will stand in almost as much danger as
-her lover stands now, should it be discovered that she is
-Peterborough's ward."
-
-But aloud he said, "In that letter Mr. Bracton"--De Violaine knowing
-Bevill's proper name by this time as well as Sylvia or Madame de
-Valorme knew it--"is addressed as 'cousin' by the Earl. Is he that?"
-
-"He is," Sylvia replied fearlessly. "Some degrees removed, yet still
-his cousin."
-
-"He could scarcely own a worse kinsmanship--in--in De Boufflers'
-eyes," De Violaine muttered once more--to himself.
-
-To himself he had muttered these words, yet words were not needed to
-tell either of the others that here was a circumstance which must tell
-hardly, cruelly, against Bevill. They understood that by some act of
-forgetfulness, some inadvertency, he must have kept about him a letter
-that prudence should have warned him to destroy the instant he had set
-foot in the neighbourhood of the French; and now--now it would tell
-against him with awful force. They could not doubt this to be the
-case; no further doubt could exist in either of their minds. De
-Violaine's face, as he thought to himself that the unfortunate
-prisoner could scarce claim kinship with a more dangerous man in the
-eyes of France than the Earl of Peterborough, had been enough to tell
-them all, to banish all hope from their hearts.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXVII.
-
-
-If the Comtesse de Valorme had taken but a secondary part in the
-conversation that had occurred, it was because she recognised that, to
-Sylvia, the moment was all important. Also she recognised, or
-understood well, that at the present moment the preservation, the
-earthly salvation of Bevill Bracton, if such were possible, stood
-before all else. Her own desires, her own hopes of coming into contact
-with the Generalissimo of the allied armies, or, short of him, of
-someone in high command, must, if only temporarily, give place to the
-saving of this man so young and so fearless. Yet, even as this thought
-possessed itself of her mind, she acknowledged that all power of so
-saving him was outside the efforts of Sylvia or herself.
-
-What, she asked herself, was there that either of them could do to
-assist in that salvation--they who were themselves in a sense
-prisoners? De Boufflers was here at this moment; he would doubtless
-make himself acquainted with everything in connection with the
-prisoner, or, indeed, the prisoners; he would give orders as to what
-was to be done in the form of a trial, a judgment; and against these
-orders there could be no disobedience on the part of any. Nor could
-there be any suggestions of mercy. There were none who could venture
-to disobey or to suggest, or who, thus venturing, would be allowed a
-moment's hearing; while, worse than all, the facts were overwhelming.
-Bevill Bracton had placed himself in this position--a position that in
-war time was the worst in which any alien could stand. For, having, as
-an alien, obtained an entrance to Liege, he had next disobeyed the
-stern order that no aliens who happened to be in the city should
-attempt to leave it and thereby find the opportunity, should they
-desire it, of communicating with the enemy. To all of which was added
-the additional terror that, villain though he was, Francbois was a
-Frenchman, and the Frenchmen who listened to what he had to say
-might be tempted to believe his words. While, to cap everything,
-a letter of Lord Peterborough's had been found in Bevill's
-possession--Peterborough, of whom it was as well known in France as in
-London itself that he had loudly denounced the French succession, had
-counselled the rupture with France, and himself thirsted to take part
-in the present war.
-
-Yet, even as Madame de Valorme acknowledged that there were none who
-could help him who now stood in such imminent deadly danger, a
-counter-thought, a counter-question ran through her brain like
-wildfire. "Is it so?" she asked herself. "Is it truly so?" and almost
-sickened as she found the answer that there were two persons who still
-had it in their power to afford timely help, though, in doing so,
-their own feelings, their own self-respect, their sense of honour,
-might be forfeited. The first was one who might be brought to
-influence the council, the court-martial that decided the unlucky
-man's fate--De Violaine!
-
-And the second was one who might influence him. Ah, yes! She, the
-woman he had loved and lost--the woman whom--since it was idle to
-juggle with herself--he still loved. Herself!
-
-Herself! and the moment had come when, if it were to be done she must
-do it, though, even as she knew that it was so, she loathed, execrated
-herself. For in her heart there dwelt, as there would ever dwell, the
-thought, the memory, of her unhappy husband who had died beneath the
-horrible tortures, the beatings, the sweat, the labour of the galleys;
-while in De Violaine's own heart there dwelt one thing above all--his
-honour, his loyalty to the country he loved and served and to the King
-he despised, yet had deeply pledged himself to obey faithfully.
-
-But still the essay must be made. The honest, upright life of Bevill
-Bracton should not be sacrificed without some effort on her part,
-wicked though that effort might be, and surely--surely God would
-forgive her! The sweet, fair promise of Sylvia's young life should not
-be wrecked if she stood, if she could stand, for aught.
-
-And the moment had come. Sylvia had left the room, unable to bear
-further emotion; had left it to retire to her own room, there to cast
-herself on her knees and pray for Heaven's mercy on him she had learnt
-to love so fondly. The Comtesse de Valorme and De Violaine were alone.
-He was glancing out through the window at the garden, now drenched
-with rain, while she was seated by the table as she had been seated
-since first he was announced.
-
-
-[Illustration: "Almost in a whisper the Comptess spoke."--_p_. 850.]
-
-
-For an instant the silence between them was unbroken; then, almost in
-a whisper, the Comtesse de Valorme spoke to the man who still stood
-with his back to her. For this was no moment for the practising of
-that ceremony which was the essence of all intercourse between the
-well-bred of those days, but, instead, a moment when courtesy must
-sink before those emotions that sometimes in men and women's lives
-pluck at and rend their hearts At last, however, the woman spoke, and
-the man was forced to turn round and meet her gaze.
-
-"Andre de Violaine," she said now, and he observed how her voice
-faltered as she uttered the words and how her colour came and went,
-"have you forgotten a promise, a vow you once made me ten years ago,
-while demanding no vow in return from me?"
-
-"I have forgotten nothing," the other answered, his voice more calm
-than hers as he turned towards her, yet with his eyes lowered so that
-they did not meet hers. "I have forgotten neither vows nor
-hopes--vows, the fulfilment of which has never been demanded; hopes
-that withered even as they blossomed. Shall I recall them, to show how
-clear my memory is?"
-
-"Nay; rather let me do so. I recall a man who vowed in days gone
-by--far off now--that there should be no demand a woman--I--could ever
-make of him that he would not meet, not carry out by some means, even
-though at the cost of his life."
-
-"His life," De Violaine said, lifting his eyes suddenly to hers. "His
-life. Yes."
-
-"What can a man give that is more precious? What else is there for him
-to fear who fears not death, the end of life?"
-
-"Nothing," De Violaine said now, leaving that question unanswered,
-"has ever been demanded of me by that woman--by you. Madame, there are
-some men so lowly, so unheeded in this world, that favours from them
-are scarce worth accepting or even asking for. Had you ever called on
-me to do you any service, to give you even my life, the service would
-have been done, would have been given without a moment's hesitation."
-
-"How he dwells on the word life!" the Comtesse said to herself. "How
-he shields himself behind it! Because he knows there is another word
-neither of us dares utter." Yet, a moment later, she was to hear that
-word uttered.
-
-Then she continued:
-
-"And now it is too late to ask for favours. That time is too long past
-for vows to have kept fresh--even as, perhaps," and he saw she
-trembled, it may be shuddered, as she spoke the words, "it is for
-hopes."
-
-"Too late for vows to be redeemed? No. For life to be freely given if
-required? No. For hopes? Yes, since no price can be demanded for the
-fulfilment of those vows."
-
-"Is hope dead within your heart, or has it but turned to
-indifference?"
-
-"Radegonde," De Violaine said now, speaking quickly, yet with a tremor
-in his voice, "all hope died within my heart ten years ago, on the day
-when, at Nimes, you married Gabriel de Valorme. Nay," seeing she was
-about to speak, "do not tell me that he is dead; I know it now. But
-his memory, your love for him, is not dead."
-
-"Ah!" the Comtesse gasped. For De Violaine's words were true, and she
-despised herself for having, even in so great a cause as this she was
-now concerned in, endeavoured to rouse fresh hopes within De
-Violaine's breast.
-
-"Now," the latter said, "tell me what you desire--what your words
-mean. Though you are still wedded in your heart to Gabriel, still
-bound to him by memory's chain, there yet remains--my--life."
-
-"No, no," she almost cried; "not that. Why should I ask your life--I
-who slew the happiness of that life--I who could not give you what was
-not mine to give? Instead----"
-
-"Yes--instead?"
-
-"I seek to save a life, a guiltless one." Then, rising from her chair
-and advancing close to De Violaine, she said, "You can preserve this
-Englishman. If," and she wrestled with herself, strung herself
-masterfully to utter the words, "if you ever loved me, if in your
-heart there still dwells the memory of that dead and gone love, I
-beseech you to save him. He is innocent of aught against France."
-
-"The memory of that love is there, never to be effaced; but for what
-you ask--it is impossible."
-
-"Oh! oh! And this is the man who vowed to give his life to me!" the
-Comtesse murmured. "The man who is supreme here, in Liege, yet will
-not do that!"
-
-"My life is yours, now as it has ever been--to do with as you
-will--instantly--to-day, at once. But you demand more of me; you ask
-that which I cannot give--my honour! You have said that he who fears
-not death fears nothing. Alas! you--you--Radegonde de Montigny, as
-once you were when first I knew and--Heaven help me!--loved you; you,
-Radegonde de Valorme as you now are, should know that death is little
-beside honour: and I, before all, am a soldier."
-
-"You will do nothing?"
-
-"I can do nothing."
-
-Madame de Valorme sank into the chair she had quitted a moment ago,
-and sat there, no longer gazing at him, but, instead, at the ground.
-Then, suddenly, she looked up at De Violaine, and he saw so strange a
-light in her eyes that he was filled with wonderment at what the
-meaning might be--filled with wonderment, though, as she spoke again,
-he understood, or thought he understood; for now, though using almost
-the same words she had but just uttered, they were uttered in so
-different a tone that he deemed understanding had come to him.
-
-"_In no case_ will you do anything?"
-
-"In no case," he answered in a tone so sad that it wrung her heart.
-"Whatever may be, can be, done, cannot be done by me."
-
-After which, without attempting to touch her hand even in the most
-formal way, De Violaine whispered the word "Farewell," and left her.
-
-And she knew that in one way she had won what she desired. She knew
-that, should she and Sylvia attempt anything which might have in it
-the germ of a chance for Bevill's ultimate escape from death, that
-attempt would not be frustrated by him, although he would have no hand
-in it.
-
-From this time the two women turned their thoughts to but one
-thing--their own chances of quitting Liege and communicating with
-Marlborough. While, as they did so, they remembered that, in a way at
-least, these chances must be more favourable than heretofore. There
-was now no such crawling snake as Francbois at liberty to spy on them
-or to denounce them and their plans when once he knew them.
-
-Meditating always on what steps might be taken to ensure the success
-of this evasion, consulting with Van Ryk on what opportunities might
-arise, even as, for exercise and fresh air, they walked about the
-quays or drove in and round the city, it gradually became apparent to
-them that the attempt need not be hard of accomplishment. Many of the
-French soldiers had been at this moment withdrawn, since De Boufflers
-had decided that it was best to mass them on the road the English
-forces must traverse, and so, if possible, check Marlborough ere he
-could reach Liege, instead of awaiting his attack on the city itself.
-Meanwhile, they observed many other things. They saw that all the
-gates were open in the mornings for the entrance of the peasantry with
-their country produce, and, afterwards, for their exit; they perceived
-also that those who came in with the sparse provender they still had
-left for sale did so with the slightest of inspection, and, with their
-baskets and panniers over their arms, went out entirely unmolested.
-
-"Alone we could do it," the Comtesse said. "I know it, feel it. Only,
-each must do it alone--you at one gate, I at another. And, outside, we
-could meet directly it was done. Seraing is close--'tis but a
-walk--so, too, is Herstal. And Herstal is better; it is on the way we
-must go."
-
-"Doubtless," said Sylvia, "it is best we go alone, apart. Thus, if one
-is stopped, the other may escape, may be able to continue the attempt
-alone. Ah! Radegonde, if we should succeed! If we should be in time to
-save him!"
-
-"Ay! 'tis that. If we should be in time! Yet time is one's best
-friend! They will not try him yet. They cannot. Except at the citadel
-and in the Chartreuse, Liege is almost denuded of troops for the
-moment. There are not enough officers to try him now, and--and--I know
-it, am sure of it--De Violaine will not advance matters. Oh! Sylvia,
-we must succeed."
-
-So now they made all plans for ensuring their success, and decided
-that, on the next morning after this conversation, those plans should
-be put into execution. Fortunately one thing--money--was not wanting
-to aid them.
-
-That next morning broke wet and stormy; the rain poured down at
-intervals, though followed, also at intervals, by slight cessations in
-the downpour, and by transient gleams of sunshine. Owing to which the
-peasant women who had sold their fowls and eggs and vegetables, as
-well as those who had been less successful, were forced to cower
-under antique stoops around the markets or under the market roofs
-themselves, or to trudge away in their heavy sabots--which, at least,
-served to keep their feet dry--towards the gates and out into the open
-country.
-
-Amongst others who were doing the latter was a tall, fine peasant girl
-whose eyes, gleaming out from beneath the coarse shawl thrown over her
-head, belied, in their sombre gravity, the old Walloon song she hummed
-as she went along. A tall, fine girl, who, with her basket over her
-arm, splashed through the mud and slush until she reached the
-northeast gate and asked the corporal, who stood carefully out of the
-rain, if he did not require a fowl for his _pot-au-feu_ or some eggs
-for his midday meal.
-
-"If I had a wife like you to cook them for me!" the Frenchman
-gallantly replied. "But, tell me, are all the girls from Herstal as
-handsome as you?"
-
-"Handsomer," the peasant girl replied lightly. "My sister to wit. Buy
-some eggs from me, corporal."
-
-
-[Illustration: "Seeing a strange look in the girl's eyes, he changed
-the word he was about to utter"--_p_. 852.]
-
-
-"I have no money, and eggs are dear here now. Give me one for----"
-Then, seeing a strange look in the girl's eyes, he changed the word he
-was about to utter into "luck."
-
-But since the peasant was now outside the gate it may be that, even if
-he had said "love" instead "luck," it would have made little
-difference to her. For she was out of Liege; she was free--free to
-begin her efforts, her attempt, mad as it might be, to rescue the one
-man on earth with whom and whose name the word and meaning of love
-could ever be associated in her mind.
-
-Free to stride on in her coarse, rain-soaked peasant dress towards the
-village of Herstal, and, when two hundred yards from it, to fling
-herself into the arms of another peasant woman some few years older
-than herself and to murmur, "Outside and free, Radegonde! Oh, thank
-God! thank God! Free to attempt to save him."
-
-"Ay, and free to set out at once. Mynheer Van Ryk's old domestic still
-keeps the inn here. The _charrette_ is ready. We have but to remove
-these peasants' clothes and sabots, and we can depart. Come, Sylvia,
-come!"
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXVIII.
-
-
-Had Philip Wouvermans lived half a century later than he did, the
-splendid brush he wielded would have found greater scope in the region
-he knew so well than it ever obtained, superb as his work was. For
-now, over all that portion of Europe known generically as the
-Netherlands, or Low Countries, there was the movement and the
-colouring this master delighted in--armies marching and fro, encamping
-one night at one place and at another on the next, bivouacking here
-to-day and there to-morrow, attacking or attacked, conquering or being
-repulsed. Armies, regiments, even small detachments, were clad
-sometimes in the royal blue of France, sometimes in the scarlet of
-England; while, intermixed with the former, might be seen the yellow
-grey of Spain or the dark green of Bavaria; and, with the latter, the
-snuff-brown of Holland or the pale blue of Austria. As they marched
-along the roads, singing the songs of the lands from which they drew
-their birth, or across fields, the ripened corn and wheat were
-trampled under their and their chargers' feet or beneath the coarse,
-iron-bound wheels of their gun carriages, since, now that war was over
-and around all, the luckless peasants and landowners found but little
-opportunity of reaping those fields.
-
-Yet neither was it the passage of these armies alone that disturbed
-those unfortunate dwellers in the scene of contest, since, sometimes,
-their fields and orchards and copses would witness some small yet
-sanguinary conflict between the hostile forces. On such occasions
-their downtrodden corn would become dyed crimson; the branches of
-their fruit trees would be cut down by whistling musket bullets or
-heavy cannon balls; their copses, sought out for shelter, would become
-the death-bed of many a gallant man whose eyes had opened to the light
-in lands far distant from those in which they finally closed. And
-then, routed, the vanquished would not march but rush along the roads
-once more, the victors would hurry after them in furious pursuit, and
-the unhappy owners of the soil and all it bore would be left bemoaning
-the ruin that had befallen them, ruin that the passage of years could
-alone repair.
-
-Amid such scenes as these the Comtesse de Valorme and Sylvia were
-passing now as gradually they drew near to Maestricht, where, as they
-had learnt, they would, even if they did not come into touch with some
-portion of the English army, at least discover something as to its
-whereabouts. They knew this, they had learnt it, by words overheard
-outside inns at which they halted at nights; by witnessing the frantic
-gestures and listening to the excited talk of the half-Brabant,
-half-Guelderland boors as they discussed the coming of the English and
-others. Also, they had learnt by now that to make their way easily
-along these roads it were best they should be anything but French; for
-the English were sweeping like a tornado through all the land, the
-French were in most instances retreating or fortifying themselves in
-old towns and castles; the English, for whom all Netherlanders had
-been looking so long, were at hand at last.
-
-Therefore, from now, neither Sylvia nor the Comtesse spoke in anything
-but English, excepting only when the native dialect was necessary to
-cause their desires to be understood, when Sylvia, whose long
-residence in Liege had enabled her to be well acquainted with the
-local dialects, used that.
-
-"There is no news of the approach of the allied forces as yet?" the
-Comtesse asked, as Sylvia, looking out of a carriage they had taken
-possession of when they had discarded the rough country _charrette_,
-drew in her head after a slight conversation with a peasant.
-
-"None," the girl answered wearily. "None. And during all this time
-they may have----" and she paused, shuddering.
-
-"Nay, dear heart," the Comtesse said, her English clear and distinct
-as it had been when she astonished Bevill by addressing him in it.
-"Nay, have no fear. I--I--extorted from De Violaine--Heaven help me! I
-was but endeavouring to play on his memories of the past for our, for
-your sake--the knowledge that he could not yet be brought to trial. I
-myself have no fear of that."
-
-"I myself cannot but have fears; for he has won my heart, my love. Oh!
-Radegonde, had it been you who loved him, you whom he loved, you could
-not be as calm as now you are."
-
-"It may be so," the Comtesse said softly. "Doubtless it would have
-been so had it chanced that I had learned to love him--if he had
-learned to love me," and then was silent.
-
-Something, however, some strange inflection in her voice caused Sylvia
-to look round at her companion, when, seeing that the Comtesse's face
-was averted, and that she was gazing out of the window, she added:
-
-"Ah! forgive me. Who am I, a girl who has but now found happiness in a
-man's love, to speak thus to you who have suffered so--to you whose
-own heart died with M. de Valorme?"
-
-But the Comtesse, beyond a whispered "Yes," said no more.
-
-That, however, these two women, always good friends and companions and
-now united in one great desire--the desire of saving the life of a man
-who possessed in their eyes the greatest charm that can, perhaps,
-appeal to woman's nature, that of heroism--should cease to talk of him
-as much as they thought of him, is not to be supposed. While, as they
-so thought and also talked, each was reflecting on every chance
-favourable and unfavourable that might tell for or against their hero.
-
-"Who was this spy, I wonder," Sylvia said now, "of whom Francbois
-spoke? The man whom he accused Bevill of slaying that night in the
-Weiss Haus? Radegonde, did he confide in you?"
-
-"No more than in you," the Comtesse answered. "Surely, too, he would
-have chosen the woman he loved for his confidante?"
-
-"Or, rather, have doubly feared to confide in that woman and to,
-thereby, bring fresh misery to the heart he had but just won for his
-own."
-
-"Ah, yes," the Comtesse said, again in a low voice. "Doubtless that
-was his reason."
-
-Returning, however, to the matter of the spy, Sylvia, who thought that
-in this man's death might lurk some deeper danger to Bevill than even
-that which was threatened by his obtaining entrance into a town
-beleaguered by the French, and by his doing so under a false name, as
-well as doubly threatened through a letter from Lord Peterborough
-being found in his possession--asked again:
-
-"Not even in your journey from Louvain to Liege did he mention him?"
-
-"Yes, if this man is the same as he who sought to have him detained,
-first at Antwerp and afterwards at St. Trond; if, too, Emile Francbois
-has not coined one further lie in his desire to ruin him. Yet you know
-all this as well as I, Sylvia. You have learnt from Mr. Bracton of his
-escape from Antwerp on the horse, with the passport of Le Blond, and
-of how, after seeing the man again at St. Trond, he left the place
-next morning before I did so, though that man had then disappeared and
-had not even returned to his lodging at the inn where they both put
-up."
-
-"Yes, that I know. He told me more than once of his escapes from the
-broken soldier, Sparmann, who had become a spy in the service of his
-country's enemies, as also he told me how he hated passing under a
-false name, a false guise, no matter how good the cause was. Ah!" she
-went on, "his honour, his full sense of honour shone forth in every
-regret he uttered, even while he acknowledged how good was the cause
-which compelled the subterfuge. It must be Sparmann who was wounded to
-the death in my house, though not by Bevill, since he denies it. Yet,
-had he in truth slain the man who sought to slay him, it would have
-been no crime."
-
-"He did not slay him. His every action, his every tone, when Francbois
-denounced him as having done so, was a testimony to the truth of his
-denial; though, since both Sparmann and Francbois were each working to
-the same end, were each in that lonely deserted house, intent on
-slaying Bevill--Mr. Bracton--why should they fight, why should each
-attempt to slay the other?"
-
-"Ah!" murmured Sylvia, "if we could but know that--which, alas! we
-never shall, since Sparmann is dead, and Francbois will never utter
-aught but lies--then that heavy charge against him would be removed."
-
-"It is in truth the heaviest, if not the one that will bear hardest of
-all against him."
-
-"Which, then, is the worst?"
-
-"The possession of Lord Peterborough's letter. Sylvia," the Comtesse
-said, strangely agitated as she thought on all that threatened Bevill.
-"If the Allies have not taken Liege ere he is tried, I dread to think
-of what may befall him. I pray God that Lord Marlborough may already
-be on his road."
-
-After which both women became so overcome and, indeed, almost
-hysterical by the terror of what might happen to Bevill, that for a
-time they could speak no more, but, instead, took refuge in tears.
-
-They could not, however, cease their endeavours to discover what
-chances there were of Marlborough being somewhere in the immediate
-neighbourhood. They recognised that, even if he were near and they
-could reach him and obtain speech with him, the mission on which they
-came could have but little, if indeed it had any, influence on his
-plans, all-absorbing though that mission was to them. Only they were
-distracted with grief and horror of what was impending in Liege, and
-in their distraction clutched at the only hope in the existence of
-which they could believe.
-
-The carriage was at this time passing through one of those many
-plantations of young trees that, from far-off times, it has been the
-custom of the inhabitants of this rich marshy soil to plant at regular
-intervals, with a view to always providing themselves with vast stocks
-of timber for building as well as fuel. But since the road, if it were
-worthy of the name, was not only a muddy track but also encumbered by
-logs of felled wood that had been thrown across it by some of the many
-contending forces with the intention of impeding the progress of their
-rivals, the vehicle proceeded but slowly when it proceeded at all, and
-often enough the wheels stuck fast.
-
-Looking out of the window as an obstruction once more occurred for
-about the tenth time since the carriage had entered this plantation,
-or young forest, Sylvia suddenly uttered an exclamation; while,
-drawing in her head, she said in a tone that the Comtesse could not
-mistake for aught but one of joy:
-
-"They are here! We have found them! Heaven above be praised!"
-
-"Here? Who?" the Comtesse also exclaimed. "The English? The Allies?"
-
-"Some of them at least. Oh! Radegonde, I have seen their scarlet
-coats, and, on one, the gorget of our dragoon officers. Yet, alas!
-alas! they are retiring; he who wears the gorget has disappeared
-behind a larger tree than all the others."
-
-"Cry out then! Cry to him! Call him back! Let us do anything to arrest
-their attention. If we fail to speak with them now we may not find
-their commander for days."
-
-"No, no; we need not," Sylvia again exclaimed now. "They have observed
-us. They are coming towards us, doubtless to see what this carriage
-contains. Two officers. And they _are_ English. Thank God!"
-
-As she said, so it was. The two officers now approaching the carriage
-had seen it long before Sylvia had perceived them, and were at once
-inspired with the scouts'--for such they and their men were--proper
-sense of duty, namely, to discover what was the business of everyone
-with whom they might chance to come into contact. But--as the phrase
-which had sprung into use when the century, still so young, had but
-just dawned, ran--"It was seventeen hundred and war time," and, above
-almost all else, in war time prudence is necessary. Therefore, on
-seeing the carriage approach, the officers had retreated behind the
-great tree, while their troopers had ridden deeper into the plantation
-and, from there, the former had been able to observe who and what were
-those inside the vehicle.
-
-"Women!" one said to the other. "Dangerous enough sometimes, when
-armed for our subjection and clad in velvet and Valenciennes, yet
-harmless here, unless they be spies of the enemy. No matter, 'tis our
-duty to discover who and what they are." Whereupon the officers turned
-their horses' heads towards the carriage, and the animals picked their
-way through what was almost a quagmire until they reached it.
-
-
-[Illustration: "Their laced hats in hand, the two young men drew near
-the window."]
-
-
-Their laced hats in hand, the two young men bowed gracefully as they
-drew near the window, after which the captain, speaking in fair
-French, though not such as Bevill Bracton spoke, asked in a gentle,
-well-bred voice if there were any directions or assistance they could
-give mesdames to aid them on their route? But, ere he had concluded
-his courteous speech, he halted in it and finished it in but a
-shambling manner; for his eyes, discreetly as he had used them to
-observe the equal, though different, beauty of each woman, had told
-him that one at least of those before him was not seen for the first
-time. And that one--the Comtesse--was herself gazing fixedly at him.
-
-"Madame travels far; madame's journey is not yet concluded," he
-murmured. "Madame has left Liege."
-
-"It is so, monsieur," the Comtesse said speaking in English. "I
-understand monsieur. It was outside St. Trond that he saw me when his
-late brother officer, Mr. Bracton, joined me," while as she spoke she
-felt Sylvia start.
-
-"That is the case, madame. But madame still travels on, though
-unaccompanied by Bracton. Another companion," he said, with a faint
-but respectful smile, "has usurped his place. Does he still remain in
-Liege; has he not yet succeeded in that which he desired to
-do--namely, in removing the lady he went to seek from out the grasp of
-our good friends the French?"
-
-It was not, however, Madame de Valorme who answered his question, but,
-instead, her companion.
-
-"Sir," said Sylvia--and as the captain's glance was drawn to her as
-she spoke he saw that her large grey eyes were full of a sadness that,
-to his mind at least, by no means obscured her beauty--"I am the woman
-he went to seek."
-
-"You? Yet you are here alone. Where, then, is he?"
-
-"Alas! alas! he is a prisoner. He--oh! it is hard to tell, to utter.
-He did all that man might do, but he was denounced to M. de Violaine
-by a vile spy who recognised him, and--and--ah! God help him, he is a
-prisoner in the citadel; and I--I--am free--I who should be by his
-side in safety or in danger. I who should be as much a prisoner as
-he."
-
-Bewildered, the young man looked from Sylvia to the Comtesse and then
-back to Sylvia, while muttering, "We heard something of that spy and
-what he attempted on him at Antwerp and St. Trond----"
-
-"That is not the man. He is dead----"
-
-"Bracton slew him at last!"
-
-"No, no! Another--some other did so. Perhaps the man who finally
-betrayed him," the Comtesse de Valorme said, since Sylvia seemed now
-almost incapable of speaking, so agitated had she become. After which,
-seeing that the captain of dragoons appeared to be totally unable to
-gather the meaning of what had happened, though recognising the danger
-in which Bevill stood, the Comtesse at once proceeded to give him as
-brief, though clear, an account of all that had occurred in Liege as
-it was possible to do. And, also, she told him their fears for what
-might still occur ere long. But one thing she did not tell
-him--namely, of how her own original desire of reaching Marlborough
-with a view to imploring his influence that aid might be sent to the
-Cevennes had, for the moment, given place to a far greater desire--the
-desire of in some way obtaining Bevill's earthly salvation, the
-salvation of a man whose life, though now bound up in that of Sylvia's
-as Sylvia's was in his, had become very precious to her.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXIX.
-
-Captain Barringer--as the young officer of dragoons had now told
-Sylvia and the Comtesse his name was, while presenting the lieutenant
-to them as Sir George Saxby--showed both by his tone and words that
-the gravity of Bevill's position was extreme, though he took care to
-add that the fact of there being no Court of Inquiry ready to be
-formed at the present moment was a considerable point in his chance of
-ultimate escape.
-
-In absolute fact, however, had it not been for the grief-stricken face
-of the handsome girl before him, the girl in whose eyes the tears now
-welled and hung upon the lids, even if they did not drop, and also the
-grave, solemn face of the Comtesse--he might have told them, as gently
-as possible, that in his soldier's mind the chances of Bevill's escape
-were almost nonexistent. "What," he asked himself, the question being
-but a flash of thought through his brain, and not expressed in words,
-"would our commanders have done had a Frenchman made his way into one
-of the strong places we now hold, as Bracton has made his way into
-Liege? What, if he were accused of slaying one of our supposed spies,
-if he had in his possession a letter from as great a hater of England
-as Lord Peterborough is of France, and if, contrary to all orders
-issued, he had endeavoured to escape out of one of those places with a
-young Frenchwoman who might divulge to her countrymen our plans and
-intentions? What, also, if that Frenchman had passed as an Englishman
-and had possession of two false passports made out in English names?"
-
-Yet in another instant there had flashed to this astute young
-officer's mind another thought--one that was, this time, a
-recollection.
-
-He recalled how at Nimeguen an almost similar case to this had
-occurred a little before Marshal de Boufflers had attempted to
-retrieve that city for the French, to wrest it from the Allies' hands.
-A Frenchman, named the Marquis de Cabrieres, a gentleman and gallant,
-too, had managed to obtain entrance into the place under the guise of
-an Englishman--a Jersey man--armed with papers describing him as a
-subject of the Queen; and had then endeavoured to assist a young
-French lady, his affianced wife, to leave in disguise under his care.
-Now he lay under sentence of death, since the warrant awaited the
-signature of Marlborough or Athlone when they should be in the
-neighbourhood again.
-
-But a flash of thought alone, of memory, was all that passed through
-the young officer's mind, even as Sir George Saxby was telling Sylvia
-and the Comtesse that at this moment the Earl was encamped near a
-village called Asch, but half a day's journey off; yet his sudden
-recollection was enough--enough to convince him that, even as De
-Cabrieres was doomed by the English, so must Bevill Bracton be by the
-French for a parallel offence.
-
-Now, however, he had no further time for reflection. Sylvia, hearing
-of their nearness to the one man who, in their minds, could by any
-possibility save her lover, was imploring both captain and lieutenant
-to either conduct them to where the great English commander was, or at
-least to direct them on the way to him.
-
-"We can escort you," Captain Barringer now said, forcing himself to
-drive the above thoughts away and answer her, "since we are even now
-on our way to Asch. There is little more to be learnt here; for the
-moment the ground is clear of Frenchmen and Spaniards. Though,
-doubtless, ladies, you will scarcely believe," he went on in a
-purposely assumed lighter vein, hoping thereby to banish the agony of
-mind in which both the Comtesse and Sylvia were, "what excellent
-neighbours, warm and close, we have been sometimes with those
-Frenchmen and Spaniards. A hedge, a little copse, has sometimes only
-divided our pickets and outposts from theirs; the very tables on which
-we have broken our fast at some tavern have been used by them for the
-same purpose but an hour before; and sometimes, too, we have
-courteously exchanged a few volleys of musket balls with each other,
-but that is all! The great battle that must come soon is not yet; not
-yet. Still, it will come," he added more gravely.
-
-And now they set forth for Asch, though but slowly and with
-difficulty, since the wheels of the carriage (which was only a coarse
-country thing, large and cumbersome and roughly made) had by now sunk
-deep into the oozy morass, and required not only the efforts of the
-driver, but also those of the troopers, to force it on its way.
-Nevertheless, Sylvia and her companion were soon on their road towards
-the goal of their hopes, but, although such was the case, Captain
-Barringer deemed it necessary to say that it was by no means certain
-that, even when they had reached the end of their journey, they would
-be able to see and speak with Marlborough.
-
-"For his secretary, Mr. Cardonnel, guards him like a fiery dragon,"
-the captain said; "and he is surrounded by his staff, who are also
-veritable watch-dogs; notwithstanding which we will hope for the best.
-While, since my Lord Marlborough is a very gallant gentleman, he will
-surely turn no deaf ear to ladies who desire to ask his services?"
-
-With which, and many other courteous as well as hope-inspiring
-phrases, not only Captain Barringer but also Sir George Saxby
-endeavoured to cheer the way for these who were now under their
-protection.
-
-
-It was as the sun set that, from the windows of the rough carriage,
-Sylvia and the Comtesse gazed out upon the lines of the English army
-upon which were fixed the hopes of all who still trembled in fear of
-the powerful and arrogant monarch who from Versailles sent out his
-orders for wholesale spoliation and aggrandisement. He was the hope of
-Protestants in the sunny south of France, as well as of those in the
-more temperate land of Prussia and of those who dwelt all along the
-fair banks of the Rhine; the hope of all those who inhabited that vast
-district which stretched from the German ocean to the north of France
-on one side, and to Hanover another. While--bitter mockery when
-it is remembered what the origin of the present war was!--the same
-hopes for the downfall of this Grand Monarque--this prince termed the
-"God-sent"--were felt in far-off Spain by Roman Catholic hidalgos who
-loathed the thought that a French king should sit upon the throne once
-owned by those in whose veins ran the blood of Castile, of Aragon, the
-Asturias, and Trastamara. Hopes shared, too, though silently, by the
-rude fishermen of Biscay and Galicia as well as by the outlaws and
-brigands of Traz os Montes and Cantabria, who, while they bowed the
-knee to Romish emblems and statues, cursed in their lawless hearts the
-monarch who would endeavour to obtain for himself the throne that they
-and their forerunners of centuries had fought for, while putting aside
-temporarily their existence of plunder and brigandage.
-
-Beneath a blood-red sun setting behind purple clouds that told of
-further storms and downpours still to come, the Comtesse de Valorme
-and Sylvia saw the long English line stretching from village to
-village; from the hamlet of Asch on the right to that of Ghenck on the
-left, and with Recken and Grimi on either flank. Also, they saw that
-with which both were well acquainted--the banner of England flying
-from a large tent in the middle of the camp, as well as the colours of
-regiments which, in that day, young in service, have since transmitted
-and gloriously maintained the reputation then acquired.
-
-"Here, if nowhere else," the Comtesse said, "one should feel safe;
-yet, oh!" she whispered half to herself, "that I, a Frenchwoman,
-should have to seek double succour from my country's enemies! Simply
-because the ambition, the fanaticism of one man bears heavily on
-thousands of lives. Double succour! On one side for my own people; on
-the other for one, also my country's foeman, whom I have learned--to
-pity."
-
-But Sylvia heard her words, low as the murmur was in which they were
-spoken, and answered gently:
-
-"You are but one of all those thousands whose hearts he--this splendid
-bigot--is turning from him; but one alone of those who, throwing off
-their allegiance to him for ever, are peopling lands strange to them.
-Regret it not, reproach not yourself for that. Better die an outcast,
-yet free; a voluntary exile than an ill-treated subject, a slave.
-While as for Bevill--but ah! I dare not speak, not think of him.
-Beyond Heaven, in whose hands we all are, his--our--hopes are in him
-whom now we go to seek."
-
-The carriage, escorted by the two dragoon officers who rode ahead of
-it, and by their handful of troopers behind, was now nearing that
-great tent over which streamed in the light of the setting sun the
-flag of England, and also passing through lines of English soldiers.
-Past the Cuirassiers, or Fourth Horse, it went--Sylvia's hand to her
-heart as she recognised that this was the regiment to which _he_ had
-once belonged, from which he, wickedly, unjustly, had been cast out.
-Past, too, the gallant Scots Regiment of White Horses, as well as
-"Coy's Horse," or 2nd Irish Horse, the King's Carabineers, and many
-others of the cavalry, as well as several infantry regiments,
-including fourteen companies of the Grenadiers. And, at last, they
-were outside Marlborough's tent: the moment to which both had looked
-forward, from which they hoped so much, was at hand.
-
-"I will enter to my lord's staff," Captain Barringer said, "and state
-your desires. Meanwhile, something of your names and condition I must
-know. What shall I tell him, whom announce?" and his eyes fell on the
-Comtesse, perhaps because she was the elder. Upon which she answered:
-
-"Tell him," she said, "that a Protestant Frenchwoman from Languedoc
-seeks assistance from him on two matters--both grave, and one vital. A
-Frenchwoman whose name is Radegonde, Comtesse de Valorme."
-
-The captain bowed, while repeating the words to himself as though to
-impress them thoroughly in his mind; then he looked at Sylvia.
-
-"Tell him," she said in turn, "that an Englishwoman, one Sylvia
-Thorne, is here to seek succour from him for the man she loves--the
-man who, if God so wills it, is to be her husband. And that man is a
-countryman to both my lord and her. Also he has been an English
-soldier. But this you know."
-
-It was half an hour later that the captain came back, and, speaking in
-a low voice, said that the Earl of Marlborough would receive the
-ladies who desired to speak with him. After which he handed them out
-of the carriage, and, taking them to the opening of the tent, passed
-them through the sentries on either side. From there he confided them
-to a man who had the appearance of being a body-servant, one who bade
-them respectfully follow him.
-
-But as they left the captain he whispered in their ears:
-
-"Have no fear, no trepidation; and tell him all--all! You are about to
-see the most brilliant soldier, the most courtly gentleman, in
-Europe."
-
-A moment later the man had held a curtain aside and had retired after
-letting it drop behind them again, and they were face to face with the
-greatest captain of the age.
-
-He was standing in front of a brazier in which burned some logs, for
-the evenings were growing colder now and the damp was over all, and as
-the women's eyes fell on that handsome presence and noted the
-wonderful serenity of the features, any trepidation they might have
-felt vanished.
-
-Clad in his dark blue coat--he was Colonel of the Blues--with, beneath
-it, the ribbon of the Garter across his breast, he stood facing the
-curtain until they appeared, and then, advancing towards them, lifted
-the hand of each to his lips, while murmuring some courteous phrase,
-immediately after which he placed two rough chairs before them and
-begged them to be seated.
-
-"Madame la Comtesse," he said now, and they noticed the refined,
-courtly tones of a voice that, though soft and even, was a little
-shrill. "I have heard your tale briefly from Captain Barringer. If
-help can come from me it shall. Yet am I vastly concerned to know how
-I can offer aid."
-
-"My lord," said Sylvia, lifting her eyes to his, while little knowing
-how he had noticed her beauty in one swift glance, "it is said in
-Liege that you will be soon there; and then--then--then the French
-will be no longer in possession of that city."
-
-His lordship smiled slightly as she said this and seemed to muse an
-instant, after which he said:
-
-"It may be so; but ere that can be, I must clear my way to Liege.
-There are towns and fortresses upon the road. Venloo is one, and time
-is necessary."
-
-"Time! Oh!" the girl almost gasped. "Time! And in that time they may
-have tried Mr. Bracton and--ah! I cannot utter it!"
-
-"It may indeed be so," he murmured, seeing the look on Sylvia's face.
-"I would not say a word to alarm you; but courts-martial, trials in
-war time, are apt to be swift. And the condition of Mr. Bracton is
-perilous; he has placed himself in a dangerous position."
-
-"My lord," the Comtesse said, "we have heard but lately that in your
-hands is one, the Marquis de Cabrieres, who lies under sentence of
-death for a similar offence against you and a town in your possession.
-Yet he still lives. May it not be the same, may we not hope the same
-respite, for Mr. Bracton?"
-
-As she spoke, not only she, but Sylvia too, saw that her words had had
-some strange effect on the Earl. They observed a light come in his
-eyes, a little more colour mount to his cheeks--evidences that those
-words had produced in his mind some striking effect. That effect they
-were soon to learn.
-
-He went to a coarse, wooden table, covered with papers--a table that
-had, doubtless, been purchased with many others for a few gulden at
-some town through which the army passed, and, taking from off it two
-of those papers, said, as he held them in his hand:
-
-"Here is a letter to M. de Boufflers which I have caused to be
-written--such things are usual enough between the conflicting
-armies--suggesting an exchange of prisoners----"
-
-"Ah!" exclaimed Sylvia. "I understand."
-
-"Yet, see," Marlborough went on imperturbably, "I destroy it," and he
-suited the action to the word. Then observing, as he observed
-everything, the look of horror, of broken-hearted grief, on the faces
-of the others at his action, he added, "Because Mr. Bracton's name is
-not in it; because I was ignorant of him, though now I remember his
-name and the circumstances of his removal from the Cuirassiers. Yet, I
-beseech you, be easy in your minds. Another letter shall be written;
-it shall contain his name."
-
-"God in heaven bless you!" Sylvia murmured.
-
-"This," his lordship went on, touching with his finger the second
-paper, "is my warrant for the execution of the Marquis de
-Cabrieres--as a spy; but that too shall be destroyed," and again he
-suited the action to the word. "Each of those men has committed the
-same offence--for an offence it is against the opposing forces. Only,
-it is war time, and, as the offence is equal, so may the pardon be. If
-it can be done, if Mr. Bracton has not yet paid the penalty, it may be
-that the Marechal de Boufflers and I can adjust matters."
-
-
-[Illustration: "Sylvia flung herself at Marlborough's feet."]
-
-
-With a sob wrung from her heart by those last words as to Bevill
-having possibly paid the penalty, Sylvia flung herself at
-Marlborough's feet while uttering all that she felt at his
-graciousness and mercy. But, as she did so, as still she held his hand
-and called on heaven again and again to bless and prosper him, and
-while he, gallant, chivalrous as ever and always, endeavoured to raise
-her to her feet, he said:
-
-"Only, above all, hope not too much. Do not allow your hopes too full
-a sway. England and France, Anne and Louis, De Boufflers and I are at
-war to the death, and war is merciless. Further defeat may drive the
-Marshal to desperation. Also, we know not what may be transpiring at
-Liege. I would not rouse more fears in your heart than it already
-holds. Heaven knows, I would not do so. Yet still I say again, 'Hope
-not, expect not, too much.'"
-
-"I must hope," Sylvia moaned. "I must, I must. I have nought but hope
-left. I must hope in God's mercy first, and--under Him--in you."
-
-It was well indeed that she should have hope to comfort her at this
-time--well, too, that she did not know what was doing in Liege even as
-she knelt at Marlborough's feet.
-
-For had she done so she must have deemed there was no longer any hope
-to be expected on earth either for her lover or herself.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXX.
-
-
-Some of the French troops had returned to Liege. For almost every day
-now there came to the ears of the different commanders in the vicinity
-the news that the Allies were sweeping south; that town after town and
-fortress after fortress was falling, and that gradually, before the
-serried ranks of steel and the discharge of the heavy guns that the
-huge Flanders horses dragged over muddy roads and boggy swamps, the
-"Barrier" army was being driven back. To which was added now the news
-that Venloo was invested by Lord Cutts--he who had gained the
-sobriquet of the "Salamander" from friends and foes alike, owing to
-his contempt for the enemy's fire--and the Prince of Hanover, and like
-enough to fall at once.
-
-Therefore many of the French forces were now back in the citadel and
-Chartreuse at Liege, or lying out on the heights of St. Walburg; while
-Tallard, who was afterwards to command the French and be defeated at
-Blenheim, was now second in command in the vicinity under De
-Boufflers. For the Duke of Burgundy had some time since returned to
-Paris, where he received but a freezing welcome from his august
-grandsire, and the Marechal de Boufflers became first in command and
-Tallard second.
-
-These changes in both the command of the French army and in the
-redistribution of the French forces, provided a sufficient number
-of officers to form a Court of Inquiry on the prisoners in the
-citadel--a court which, as Tallard had left orders before marching
-towards the Rhine, was to be commenced at once.
-
-Of these prisoners there were now three, since another had been added
-to Bevill and Francbois, all of whom were charged with separate
-offences. The charge against those two has already been told; that
-against the third had still to be promulgated, though it came under
-the general one of treason, and was described in the quaint wording of
-the time as "_Lese majeste_ against the King, his State, and friends."
-
-Of Francbois short work had been made by those assembled in the old
-_salle d'armes_ in the citadel. The letters he had overlooked, and
-which had been found by the Comtesse de Valorme and handed to De
-Violaine, were sufficient to condemn any man in a time of peace, let
-alone one of war; but further inquiries, subtly made in the city by
-other such spies as Sparmann had been, showed that the traitor had
-made considerable sums of money by obtaining early knowledge of the
-French plans and future movements, and by selling them to the Dutch
-agents who were instructed by the States General to obtain all
-information of a similar nature. Francbois had consequently been
-condemned to death by hanging, and that death only awaited the
-signature of Tallard to be immediately effected. Meanwhile, he, proved
-spy and traitor as he was, was not regarded as too base and ignoble to
-be allowed to testify against one of the other prisoners--namely, the
-Englishman, Bracton.
-
-Against the third prisoner, a Hollander named Hans Stuven, the charge
-was that he had attempted to slay two of his own countrymen in Liege,
-who were now in the service of the French King as couriers and
-frequent bearers of despatches from Louis to his marshals in the
-Netherlands; and that, when in drink at a tavern, he had been heard to
-announce that when he came into contact with the newly-created
-marshal, Montrevel, he would slay him as an apostate from the reformed
-faith and a persecutor of the Protestants. For this man there could be
-but one hope--that he should be found to be insane.
-
-To try these two the Court sat in the _salle d'armes_, lit now by the
-morning sun, De Violaine, in his capacity of Governor, being
-President. As representative of the King of France, he wore his hat
-and also the _just-au-corps au brevet_, or undercoat of the _noblesse_
-and those holding high office; a garment of white satin on which was
-stamped in gold the _fleur-de-lys_. Among the other officers who
-formed the members of that court one, a mousquetaire, alone wore his
-hat also, the plumed and laced hat of that aristocratic body. This
-was the young Duc de Guise, who sat thus covered because there ran in
-his veins the royal blood of an almost older race than the Bourbons,
-and because, as he and his called the King--and all Kings of
-France--cousin, it was his privilege to do so.
-
-In face of these officers Bevill Bracton stood in the midst of a file
-of soldiers, outwardly calm and imperturbable, but inwardly wondering
-what Sylvia was doing and where she was, while knowing that, no matter
-where she might be, her thoughts were with him alone. But, although he
-was well resigned to whatever fate might befall him--a resignation
-that many nights of solemn meditation had alone been able to bring him
-to--there was in his heart a sadness, a regret, that could not be
-stifled.
-
-"We met but to love each other," he had whispered to himself a
-thousand times during his incarceration in this fortress; "to love but
-to be parted. And though the words could never be spoken, since I
-scarce knew the treasure I had won ere we were torn asunder, in her
-heart there must have sprung to life the same hopes, the same desires
-that had dawned in mine. The hopes of happy years to come, to be
-passed always side by side; together! The dreams of a calm and
-peaceful end, also together. And now! Now, the thought of her sweet
-face, her graciousness, her love, the only flower remaining in my soon
-to be ended life; my memory all that can be left to brighten or to
-darken her existence."
-
-For never since the night he was arrested had he dared to dream
-that he would leave Liege alive. His attempted escape from the city
-with Sylvia, his passing under the false guise of two different
-Frenchmen--the necessity for which he had always loathed, while
-understanding that in this way alone could he reach her--the testimony
-that Francbois would surely give against him, and the imputed murder
-of a man in the pay and service of France, must overwhelm and confound
-him.
-
-Thinking still of the woman he had learnt to love so dearly, he
-let his eyes roam over that gloomy, solemn hall and observe all that
-it contained while heeding little. He saw the officers of his
-country's immemorial foe conversing together ere they should begin to
-question him. He saw, too, the ancient arms that hung all round the
-walls--pikes, swords, maces, and halbards, musketoons and muskets;
-also, he saw far down at the other end another man who was,
-undoubtedly, like himself, a prisoner. A man guarded by more soldiers
-and with his hands chained together; one whose face was bruised and
-raw, as though, in his capture, he had been badly wounded; one who,
-leaning forward with that face resting on his hands, and his eyes upon
-the ground, presented an appearance of brutish indifference to his
-surroundings as well as to his almost certain fate.
-
-"The witness who will be produced before you, and the prisoner's own
-actions, will give you the matter," De Violaine said now, addressing
-the other members of the court, "upon which you have to form a
-conclusion. The witness is the traitor, Francbois, whom you condemned
-yesterday. What he knows he must tell in spite of his condemnation, or
-means will be used to make him do so," and he glanced towards a man
-leaning behind one of the great stone columns that, at regular
-distances, supported the heavily-traced and groined roof. For there
-was still another man within that hall, one on whom Bevill's eyes had
-not yet lighted--a man, old and grizzled, yet strong and burly and
-roughly clad--a man who stood by a strange-looking instrument that lay
-along the floor and was a complicated mass of rollers and cords and
-pulleys--a thing that was, in truth, the rack. Near this there stood,
-also, four or five great copper pots, each holding several gallons of
-water, and having great ladles of the same metal in each. These things
-stood here close to the rack and that dark, forbidding man because, as
-all of that Court knew well, when the rack failed to elicit the truth
-from prisoner or suspected witness, the _question a l'eau_--namely,
-the pouring of quart after quart of water down the throats of the
-wretched victims, never failed in its effect.
-
-"Let us hear the man," an officer who was in command of the Regiment
-de Montemar said. "If he endeavours to lie or to deceive us the----"
-and he glanced towards the executioner as he leant against the column.
-
-"Bring in the man, Francbois," De Violaine said now, addressing some
-of the soldiers who were near Bevill, and a few moments later the
-already condemned traitor stood before those who had judged him
-yesterday.
-
-Whether it was the horror of that condemnation which now sat heavily
-on his soul, or whether it was the fear of what might be the outcome
-of any evidence he should soon give--he had glanced affrightedly at
-the rack and the great water-pots and the grim attendant of both as he
-was brought in--he presented now a pitiable aspect. His face was
-colourless, or almost ashy grey, and resembled more the appearance of
-a terrified Asiatic, or an Asiatic whose blood was mixed with that of
-some white race, than the appearance of a European. His eyes had in
-them the terrified look of the hare as it glances back, only to see
-the hound that courses it upon its flank; his whole frame, in its
-tremblings and flaccidity, bespoke the awful terror that possessed
-him.
-
-"_Pasquedieu!_" the young Duc de Guise muttered, as his eyes glanced
-from the shivering object to the tall, sturdy form and calm,
-unruffled, though solemn, countenance of the man against whom the
-other was to testify. "_Pasquedieu!_ that this one should have his
-life in the hand of such as that." And, though those by his side did
-not hear the words muttered beneath the Duke's slight moustache, it
-may well be that their thoughts kept company with his.
-
-"Tell your tale again as you told it to me when you came here to
-inform against this Englishman," De Violaine said now in an icy tone;
-"and tell it truthfully, remembering that----" but he, too, paused in
-his words, the sentence being finished by the one glance he cast
-towards the column down the hall.
-
-Then, in a voice that trembled in unison with the tremors of his
-frame, though it gained strength--or was it audacity?--as he proceeded
-without interruption from any of those listeners seated before him,
-Francbois told the same story he had told at first to the Governor,
-Only, if he were to die, as die he now knew he must, he was resolved
-that he would leave no loophole through which this other--this
-accursed, contemptuous Englishman who stood by his side so calmly, as
-though he, too, were a judge and not a prisoner--should escape and
-live.
-
-He pictured him as a browbeating, turbulent Briton even in those
-far-off days in Paris when both he and Bracton were schoolmates; he
-told how he was ever filled with hatred of France and Frenchmen; and
-how, even here in Liege, Bracton had boasted that he would outwit any
-Frenchman in and around it, and slay all who attempted to thwart him.
-And, next, he told how he and Sparmann, going to the Weiss Haus to
-arrest this man, had been set upon in the dark by him; how Bracton had
-stabbed Sparmann through the breast and disarmed him, Francbois, so
-that he was unable to succour his companion.
-
-But now he was forced to stop in the unfolding of his narrative.
-
-Bracton, who until this moment had uttered no word but had contented
-himself with standing calmly before his judges, spoke now.
-
-
-[Illustration: "'Messiers--this story is false.'"]
-
-
-"Messieurs," he said, very calmly, "this story is false. It may be
-that in my attempt to save a woman I have learnt to love, a woman whom
-I loved with my whole heart and soul even ere I went to the Weiss Haus
-that night, I have put myself in the grasp of your military laws. But
-be that so or not," and now his voice was more firm, even perhaps
-stronger, "I will not be saddled with a false accusation and hold my
-peace. Sparmann was already wounded to the death, as I know now,
-though I knew it not when he passed me, touched me, in the dark and
-then fled down the stairs from me, deeming me most probably the man
-from whose hands a moment before he had received his death-wound. But
-it was not from my hand he received it. I am no murderer, no midnight
-assassin. I had fought once with Sparmann in England, and vanquished
-him in fair fight. Messieurs, you know well enough that the man who
-vanquishes another in the open does not murder him afterwards in the
-dark. Had I found him in the Weiss Haus that night, I should have
-seized on him, it may be I should have forced him to fight with me
-again, but I should not have done that of which this traitor accuses
-me."
-
-These words had made a good impression on those to whom they were
-addressed--so good a one, indeed, that, had there been no other charge
-against Bevill, he might possibly have gone free at that moment.
-Unhappily, however, there did remain the other charges that stood so
-black against him, and those charges required neither the assertion
-nor the corroboration of Francbois. They proved themselves.
-
-But whatever impression his words may have made on those who were now
-the arbiters of life and death to him, a far deeper impression--a
-palpable one--had been produced on the man who sat with his head
-buried in his hands close by that column against which the doomsman
-leaned.
-
-At the first sound of Bevill's voice this man, this fanatic who
-appeared to have vowed himself to the slaughter of renegades and
-apostates, had lifted his bloodstained and bruised face from his
-hands, and had stared amazed as though a spectre had suddenly appeared
-before him; yet even this expression of open-eyed astonishment gave
-way to a still deeper appearance of bewilderment as now Francbois, in
-answer to Bevill's words, repeated again his assertions while asking
-if he who now stood on the threshold of his grave had any reason to
-lie?
-
-So deep an appearance, indeed, had that man's bewilderment assumed
-that, at last, he appeared unable to support it further, and let his
-face fall once more into its previous position. And in all that great
-hall there was not one, or only one--the dreadful creature who stood
-near Stuven--who had witnessed the man's astonishment and the lifting
-of his face out of his hands.
-
-"You say," De Violaine said now to Francbois, "that you have no reason
-to lie since your grave already awaits you. Yet death is but the last
-resource, and even that impending death shall not shield falsehood. If
-you have lied to us----"
-
-But he paused, astonished by what he now not only saw but also heard.
-
-For at this moment the prisoner Stuven had sprung to his feet and was
-gesticulating wildly, even as he struggled in the hands of the men who
-guarded him--gesticulating wildly as he cried:
-
-"He lies. He does lie! 'Twas I who slew Sparmann that night--Sparmann,
-the Hollander, who sold himself to your country. I--I--alone did
-it--but he, this false witness, was there too. Not to slay Sparmann,
-but that man before you. I lost my hat there in the struggle with him
-whom I slew; it may be in that deserted house now. But no matter
-whether it be or not, I demand that you listen to me. I, at least,
-will speak the truth, since I neither heed nor fear what my fate may
-be."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXI.
-
-Half an hour later Stuven's tale had been told; the Court knew that,
-no matter what else might weigh heavily against the Englishman, at
-least the murder of the Dutch spy in the pay of the French did not do
-so.
-
-At once, after startling all in the _salle d'armes_ by his frenzied
-outcry, Stuven had been bidden to narrate all the incidents of the
-night in question, while warned that it would be well to speak the
-absolute truth, since, though nothing could save him from his fate,
-that might at least save him from torture, from those awful
-instruments which lay upon the stone floor of the great hall.
-
-But the warning had been received by the man with such scorn and
-contemptuous utterance that all present recognised that it might well
-have remained unuttered.
-
-"The truth! My fate!" Stuven had cried from the spot to which he had
-now been dragged by the soldiers, a spot immediately facing his judges
-and near to Bevill. "Why should I lie? You have enough against this
-man already," glancing at Bevill, "to hang him; while, for that thing
-there," with a second glance at Francbois, "who would lie to save him?
-And, for my fate--bah! I regret it only that it will prevent me from
-slaying more renegades whom you and your country buy with your
-accursed gold."
-
-"Tell what you know," De Violaine said sternly, "and make no
-reflections on us who hold you in our hands. We can do worse than slay
-you, should you merit it. Proceed."
-
-Yet as the gallant Frenchman spoke, the loyalist who, in spite of his
-ruler's own evil-doing and tyranny, served that ruler as he had sworn
-to do long ere Louis had become the bitter oppressor of those of his
-own faith, knew that, in his heart, this fellow's rude, stern hatred
-of traitors and renegades, and those who employed them, was not
-amazing. Stuven might be, might have become almost, a demoniac in his
-patriotism and loyalty to the land that bare him, but at least he was
-noble in comparison with such as Francbois and, perhaps, with such as
-the dead traitor, Sparmann.
-
-But now Stuven was speaking, partly in his Walloon _patois_, partly in
-some sort of French he had acquired--Heaven knew the opportunities had
-not been wanting during the last cycles of oppression and invasion of
-the Netherlands by France!--he was telling what he knew, what he had
-done in Holland's cause.
-
-"It was," Stuven said now, his raw, bruised face bent forward towards
-the members of the Court, his eyes gleaming red as he spoke, his
-raucous voice made almost impressive by the intensity of his passion,
-"at St. Trond I first attempted to slay the spy--_ach!_" and he spat
-on the ground--"the traitor. At St. Trond where I learned who and what
-he was, by overhearing this man, this Englishman, tell another.
-And--and--I swore to kill him then--or later; some day, for sure. That
-night I failed, even though waiting for him, having him in my hand. I
-struck not deep enough, and, ere I could strike again, the patrol came
-by. I missed his heart by an inch or so; I--I had done no more than
-wound him in the shoulder. No matter, I told myself; I would not fail
-next time.
-
-"Some of the patrol carried him to the Lutheran Spital; some chased
-me; one came so near that, with his pike, he tore my face, as your men
-have torn it again in capturing me," and Stuven laughed horribly. "But
-I knew the streets and alleys better than they--_I_ was no stranger,
-no invader, so I escaped them.
-
-"Then for three weeks I waited. I worked no more; I watched only. None
-came out of the Spital, none went in, but I saw them. I begged at the
-gate--it was a good vantage place--I tried to get into the Spital to
-wait on the sick, to help bury, carry out the dead. Had I not failed
-in my desire I need not have waited so long."
-
-At this the young Duc de Guise muttered to his neighbour, "This fellow
-should have lived in earlier days. For one's rival now--an enemy--our
-dearest foe--he would have been the man."
-
-"Nay," that neighbour, an older, grey-headed officer, muttered back,
-"he would have been useless. His fire was for his country's enemy, for
-his own. As a hired bravado, a paid assassin, he would have lacked the
-necessary spark. A handful of crowns would have awakened nothing in
-him."
-
-"He came out at last," Stuven went on, even as those two whispered
-together, "three weeks later. He found his horse at the inn where he
-had left it; he rode slowly, a wounded man--wounded by me--to Liege.
-But he never rode from me, out of my sight. We entered the gates close
-together; he found a lodging, I slept in the street outside it.
-Then--then--after I had tracked him for some days I knew that he was
-tracking another. And at last I knew it was this man here," and again
-Stuven's eyes were turned on Bevill. "If I could have warned you," he
-said now to the latter, "I would have done so, but I could not leave
-him and I never saw you except when he drew near to you.
-
-"So it went on. Had he had time, I think he would have come to you and
-denounced him," and now the man looked at De Violaine, "but he had
-not. He rose early, went to his bed late; and he was wary. In dark
-streets at night he had his sword drawn beneath his cloak; once, too,
-he noticed me, and from that time he feared for his own life. I think
-he understood that I was the man who fell on him at St. Trond.
-
-"But now the night was come, the night of the storm. We--it was always
-_we_--he intent on following this man, and I on following him--were on
-our road to that great white house. Since dark I had been near the
-Gouden Leeuw, and I saw this Englishman come forth, mount his horse
-and ride to the house. I saw him enter a postern gate, opening it with
-a key; it took him some time to help his horse through it. Then the
-gate was shut again.
-
-"A few moments later Sparmann went round to the wall on the other
-side, and, finding another postern gate in that, took from his pocket
-a key and entered; but he did not shut the gate, desiring doubtless to
-leave the way clear to escape quickly if he needed to. Then I knew he
-had been there before, or had been well directed how to gain entrance.
-Also, I remembered that more than once I had seen him with a man who
-on one occasion handed him something. I thought then that it was
-money; now, on this night, I understood that it was the key that he
-was using. And the man was _this_----" Stuven added, his eyes on
-Francbois, the contempt of his voice as biting, as burning as the bite
-of vitriol on live flesh; the very gesture of his hand, as he
-indicated the other, blighting, withering, in its disdainful scorn.
-
-And Francbois, trembling before his late judges and present warders,
-and white, too, as the dead within their shrouds, could only mutter
-"False, false, false--all false!"
-
-"Since Sparmann had left the door open behind him, my way was clear,"
-Stuven went on, ignoring Francbois' feeble moan. "Five minutes later I
-knew that he was creeping slowly up the back stairs, and I, my knife
-in hand, was near him. The storm was at its height; now and again the
-great hall was lit by the lightning, so, too, was the whole house; it
-penetrated even to where he was, where I was, too. And now I knew
-that he feared something. The lightning showed me his backward
-glance, the glare of fear in his eyes, the look of the rat hunted
-through the streets by dogs. I guessed that he knew there was
-someone--something--near him that threatened danger. It may be that he
-thought it was this Englishman; or, also, he may have feared that it
-was I, the man who had failed once, but would never fail again."
-
-"It will be bad," the Duc de Guise muttered, brushing his jewelled
-fingers across his forehead, "if all Louis' enemies are like this, all
-who are opposed to us!"
-
-And again the old grey-haired soldier answered him, saying, "Be at
-peace, monseigneur. The man he tracked was his country's betrayer; he
-is not the enemy of Louis or of us."
-
-"Sparmann," Stuven continued, "had reached a room at the end of the
-corridor; I was behind its open door, observing him through the chink
-beneath its hinges. And again the lightning played, and I saw that he
-was standing at the open window regarding something outside the
-balcony of that window. It was the head of a ladder that rose above
-the ledge some foot or more. And I heard him whisper to himself 'Can
-it be Bracton has come this way; I do fear he lurks near. I--I--ah! he
-will slay me.' While saying this he turned and made for the door to
-flee the room. As he so left, I, from my place behind that door, drove
-my knife deep into his breast, even as I whispered in his ear
-'Traitor; renegade, foul, apostate!' and slashed at him again, missing
-him, but striking, I think, his arm or hand. Then, as he staggered
-down a great balcony round the hall, I knew that it was time for me to
-go, and that the ladder outside was my road.
-
-"The wind of the storm had closed the door noisily, heavily, as he
-passed out; the noise reverberated through the empty house; opening
-the door now, I rushed to the window. As I did so I saw the ladder
-head slowly sliding to one side, and I knew that it was being removed
-from its position against the balcony. And I leant over the ledge to
-see who was this third man who had been in the room, believing I
-should see this Englishman. But it was not he, but that other one,
-that traitor to you and your country," and again Stuven's finger
-pointed with scorn at Francbois. "And he saw me, but, in his turn,
-since the night was black and dark, thought I was the Englishman.
-Whereon he hissed, addressing me by some name I did not comprehend,
-'So, so! English spy, English brigand, you add midnight murder to
-other things, here in the house of the woman you and I both love, the
-woman who--malediction on her!--loves you. I have you now--you!
-you!--the murderer of those in the service of France. You will never
-leave Liege alive!"
-
-As Stuven reached this portion of his narrative, which was in absolute
-fact the end of it, since none cared to hear, or he to tell, of how he
-had left the house on the other side of it, losing his hat in the
-hurry of his flight, there came to his ears the sound of a thud, a
-heavy fall. Looking round, as did also Bevill, while the members of
-the Court of Inquiry and the soldiers could see what had happened, he
-perceived that Francbois had fallen in a swoon to the floor. What he
-had heard from this man's lips was, in truth, sufficient to cause him
-to swoon, since it was now proved that one of his principal charges
-against Bracton was false; though, had he known that against his enemy
-there still remained a graver charge than all--namely, of being in
-correspondence with one of the most bitter enemies of France--his
-agony of mind might not have been so great. For though Francbois could
-not hope that there remained the thousandth portion of a chance for
-his own life, the rendering up of that life might have been less
-bitter had he been certain that, with his existence, his enemy's would
-likewise be forfeited. Also, the sweetness of vengeance was lost to
-Francbois if, in death, that enemy should fail to recognise that it
-was to him he owed it.
-
-Had the wretch but retained his faculties some moments longer, or,
-instead of being borne out of the _salle d'armes_ by the men in whose
-custody he was, had he been allowed to lie until he regained his
-senses--as he shortly did when removed--some of the wild delirium of
-fulfilled revenge would have been his.
-
-Now that Stuven had told his story, of the truth of which no person
-present had entertained a doubt, De Violaine addressed Bevill, saying:
-
-"That you are innocent of the murder of that wretched man who was in
-the service of France, of the King," and he and the Duke touched their
-hats while the others bowed as he mentioned their august ruler, "the
-Court allows. But of the other charges it is not easy to acquit you.
-You entered a city invested by us under false names, bearing false
-papers; you endeavoured to leave the city, while also endeavouring to
-remove from it a woman who by our orders--orders common in war--was
-not to quit it. Also a letter has been found on you from your
-countryman, Lord Peterborough, in which he tells you he hopes soon to
-take part in this war against us, and bids you, at the same time,
-observe carefully our strength and the disposition of our forces, and
-to communicate with him thereupon. You have been a soldier in your own
-country's service, you have fought against France in the time of your
-late King, therefore you know the laws of war. You know, too, what
-action the present commander of the English forces would take if he
-discovered a Frenchman in the position in which you have placed
-yourself."
-
-As De Violaine ceased his eyes were not removed from Bevill's face,
-wherefore the latter, taking this as an intimation that if he desired
-to speak this was the time, said:
-
-"To what you say, Monsieur le Gouverneur, my answer must be brief,
-since, in truth, I have but little answer to make. Yet I crave hearing
-for my words. I am one who was cast out of his country's service
-because he avenged the insults uttered against it by that dead spy,
-Sparmann. When once more your country and mine were at war, I sought
-fresh service in the field, yet, being but a broken man, it needed to
-obtain that employment that I should bring myself before the eyes of
-those who might bestow it on me. A chance arose; I deemed it
-Heaven-sent. The woman whom now I love with my whole heart and soul,
-whose image is enshrined in my heart, and will be ever there till my
-last hour is told, was here. I thought I saw the chance, and snatched
-at it as one that might make me a soldier again. You, to whom I speak,
-are all soldiers; had your case been mine, had the chance come to you
-to reinstate yourselves, would you have refused to do so? Enough of
-this.
-
-"And the rest is soon answered. I am no spy. Had I escaped from here
-with her whom I love, no word of your plans and dispositions should
-have ever passed, not even though Peterborough had bade me speak and
-divulge all; though he had told me that on my utterance all my future
-hopes rested. As for the passports, listen, messieurs, I beg. I
-loathed landing under an assumed name on the soil acquired by you; had
-it been possible, I would have come in plume and corselet, as once I
-came against you when an English cuirassier. But that was not
-possible, while as for the second papers--ah, well! there was no other
-way. That unhappy man now dead would have avenged my honourable defeat
-of him--one given face to face, by man to man--by himself denouncing
-me behind my back in his new shape of spy, of informer; he who had
-been our ally, the countryman of our King! In Antwerp, in St. Trond,
-he would have done so; also in Liege, had not this man whom you have
-heard slain him. Messieurs, there is no more. I have been what you are
-all. I have faced death before; it will not fright me now, much though
-I desire to live." And beneath his breath Bevill added, "For her."
-
-He ceased, and, in ceasing, knew that in his few, quietly spoken words
-he had better pleaded his cause than if he had uttered one word for
-mercy. For though the eyes of all his judges had never left his face,
-they had been grave, but not hostile. He knew--he felt--that, had
-there existed no absolute code by which they were forced to condemn
-him for that which he had done, there would be no condemnation. But
-still there was the code, as he had known from the moment when
-Peterborough had first opened to him the matter of his quest for
-Sylvia; from the moment he set out upon his enterprise.
-
-The heads of the members of the Court were close together now; the
-registrar was reading a paper to them he had written; a moment later
-the paper and a pen were handed to the Duc de Guise, who, although the
-highest in position, was the lowest in military rank, and was
-therefore to sign first.
-
-For a moment this young man of superb lineage, though a lineage on
-which there rested, as it had rested for more than a century, so dark
-and awful a blot, sat gazing at the paper before him while biting the
-feather of the pen; then he said, or asked:
-
-"The prisoner is a Protestant?"
-
-"He is," De Violaine answered, gazing astonished at him.
-
-"I will not sign," the Duke said, throwing down the pen.
-
-"Monseigneur!"
-
-
-[Illustration: "'I will not sign,' the Duke said, throwing down the
-pen"--_p_. 1034.]
-
-
-"No, I will not sign. We," and the Duke's hand caught the lace at his
-breast in its grasp, as though its owner were stirred by some internal
-agitation, "we--ah!--we of our line have testified in the past all
-that we have felt towards those of his faith. I will not have it said
-that another Guise should sign the finding of this Court against a man
-whom he respects, no matter how much that man has erred, because he is
-a Protestant."
-
-"I, too, respect him," De Violaine said, even as he laid his hand,
-unseen by the others, upon the young Duke's and pressed it. "But I
-myself am a Protestant, and also the President of this inquiry. Yet I
-shall sign. Neither will I have it said that, being of the prisoner's
-faith, I used that bond between us to shield him from the punishment
-he has brought on his own head."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXII.
-
-
-To die. That was the sentence, awaiting only confirmation from Tallard
-to be at once carried into effect. To die--though, because he had once
-been that which his judges were now, because the "one touch of nature"
-had made these French soldiers and that English soldier kin; because,
-too, his quiet, manly bearing, his restraint from all plea for mercy,
-had touched the hearts of those who sentenced him--not by the rope,
-but by the hands of soldiers. Not to be hanged, as Francbois and
-Stuven were to be, but to be shot as he stood upright before a platoon
-of soldiers; his eyes unbandaged, so that he might look them and the
-death they dealt him as straight in the face as he had often before
-looked the enemy and death.
-
-Also, it may be, the hearts of those judges had been softened to this
-extent by the avowal of his love for the stately, beautiful woman whom
-some of them--De Guise, De Violaine, D'Aubignay--had seen; whom these,
-at least, had heard cry "I love him, I love him, I love him!"
-Remembering that cry of Sylvia's, remembering how in that moment, so
-fraught with evil to both their destinies, the girl had cast aside all
-sense of mock diffidence, and how nobly she had avowed her love while
-recognising that, in doing so, no reproach of want of reserve could
-come anigh her, De Violaine, as he signed the finding of the Court
-over which he had presided, muttered to himself:
-
-"To have heard Radegonde thus proclaim her love for me would have
-caused this sentence to fall harmless. Harmless! Nay, rather,
-welcome."
-
-While, as for De Guise, duke and peer of France though he might be,
-with, in his veins, the old illustrious blood of Lorraine and
-Burgundy--what would he not have given to hear one woman utter that
-cry on his behalf from the depths of her heart? He who might,
-doubtless, obtain such avowals from many a nobly born woman hovering
-round the garish, bizarre Court of the great King, yet would, in doing
-so, scarce be able to bring himself to believe in the truth of even
-one of them.
-
-Some days had passed since Bevill had heard his doom pronounced by De
-Violaine in a voice full of emotion; days in which he had stood,
-sometimes for hours together, at the window of the great cell, which
-was in truth a room, gazing across the town. Across the town, since
-the citadel was built on the brow of a hill that overhung it, to
-where, perhaps, he dreamt that, even at the last moment, succour might
-be expected to come. For though he did not know that the Comtesse de
-Valorme and Sylvia had by now contrived to escape out of Liege, he
-knew that this was the direction in which Marlborough must be; that,
-if there was any hope to be looked for, it was thence it must arrive.
-Yet he knew, too, that, if it came, also must it come swiftly.
-
-"De Violaine said," he had told himself a hundred times, "that the
-finding of the Court would be sent at once to the Marshal Tallard for
-his approval. Ah, well! the time will not be long. With Marlborough as
-near as he must be by now, Tallard cannot be far away. Whispers filter
-even through these prison walls; the soldiers amongst whom I am
-allowed to walk below, and to get the air, are gloomy and depressed.
-Also, I have caught ere now the name of Venloo on their lips. If
-Venloo has fallen, then Liege will be the next. It will be its turn.
-But mine!" Bevill would add, with almost the shadow of a smile upon
-his face, "will my turn come first?"
-
-"And she, my sweet, my love," he would continue. "What of her? Where
-is she, what is she doing? Yet why ask, why ponder? She is dreaming,
-musing, thinking of me now, I know; pitying my fate--it may be
-endeavouring in some way to avert it. Ah! Sylvia, Sylvia, if ere I go
-from out this world we might stand face to face again; if I might look
-once more into those fond, pure eyes, and read therein the love that I
-must part with, leave behind, death would not seem so bitter and
-parting be lighter sorrow than I deem it now."
-
-Yet even as he spoke he chided himself for his consideration of
-himself alone; for thinking only of the love that he, going out into
-the darkness, must leave behind, not of the one left behind in a
-deeper, because a living, darkness.
-
-As thus he mused one morning by the spot at the window at which he
-always stood while these, or similar, reflections occupied his mind,
-he heard the great bunch of keys in the possession of one of the
-soldier-gaolers rattling outside, and a moment later heard his cell
-being unlocked. Knowing that this was not the time for the man to
-visit him, either to bring food or to take him forth to walk in the
-courtyard of the citadel, he wondered who might be coming, and, with a
-leap at his heart, a quick bound of hope, wondered also if it were she
-who might have obtained admission to him.
-
-A moment later De Violaine entered the room, and again Bevill's heart
-leapt within him, since he could suppose that this visit must bode but
-one thing, the announcement of the hour fixed for his execution.
-Wherefore he murmured to himself:
-
-"Be brave. Fear naught. Remember 'tis but a dozen bullets. What are
-they to one who has faced thousands?"
-
-If, however, the Governor of the citadel had come with any such
-intention as that which Bevill supposed, he at least did not declare
-it at once. Instead, he asked his prisoner if, so far as might be, he
-had been well attended and treated well.
-
-"I have no complaint to urge," Bevill replied, "even if one placed as
-I am might venture to do so." Then, bracing himself to that which was
-nearest to, was never out of, his heart, he said: "Yet, monsieur, I
-may, perhaps, ask of you a question I might scarce put to those who
-have me in their charge." Then, seeing that De Violaine showed no
-signs of dissent, he continued: "I would fain know how it is with
-her--the woman whose affianced husband I am, and shall be while life
-remains. Also, if all is well with that noble lady the Comtesse de
-Valorme."
-
-"I have seen neither of them since your appearance before the Court of
-Inquiry."
-
-"Yet you were the friend of one of them at least--of Madame la
-Comtesse."
-
-"Yes, of Madame la Comtesse--once."
-
-"If--if--" Bevill said, while observing the hesitation in the other's
-words, the pause before that last word "once"--"if my doom is not
-close at hand, if still there remains even one day, some few hours, to
-me of life in this world, I would fain crave a boon at your hands,
-make one request. Ah! if it might be granted it would make my parting
-with life easier; it may be she would better be able to bear our
-eternal separation."
-
-"What is it you desire?" De Violaine asked in a low voice, his eyes
-fixed on the other.
-
-"To see her once again. To bid her one last farewell, to hold her in
-my arms for the first and last time. You know, you must know, that our
-love grew from out this attempt for which I am now to suffer; that,
-even as the knowledge came to both our hearts that the love was there,
-so, too, the parting, the end was at hand. Ah! if to you the love for
-a woman has ever come, if it has ever so fortuned that you should love
-and lose----"
-
-"It is impossible!" De Violaine interrupted, his voice at war with his
-features. For, though there seemed to be a harshness in the former,
-there were tears in the latter. And Bevill, hearing the harshness even
-as he saw the tears, was amazed--staggered, too, as he showed while
-repeating the word "Impossible."
-
-"Ay. They are not here. Not in Liege. They have left--evaded--the
-city."
-
-"Left! Gone!"
-
-"Yes. Doubtless you of all others best know whither."
-
-"I know nothing."
-
-"You knew where they would go when you sought to accompany them. You
-can have little doubt where they are gone without you."
-
-To say now that he did not know, that he could not conceive which way
-those two women had for certain directed their steps would, Bevill
-recognised, be but to add one more equivocation, one more evasion of
-the absolute truth, to those he had been obliged to perpetrate in his
-desire to escape with Sylvia from Liege. But now--and if he could
-welcome the perilous position in which he stood he was almost brought
-to do so by De Violaine's last utterance--equivocations, evasions,
-were no longer necessary. Henceforth, since he had failed and Sylvia
-had escaped from Liege, and also was undoubtedly either with the
-English or some portion of the Allies, he need never again utter one
-word that was not absolutely a true one. He had failed in that which
-he had undertaken, yet, he thanked God, that failure mattered not. Out
-of it had at least come the escape of her he loved.
-
-He stood, therefore, before De Violaine neither asserting nor denying
-the last words of the other; while that other, observing the calm
-frankness of his manner, thought that, should there be any future
-before this man, should he and the woman he loved ever come by any
-chance together, how proud, how happy in her possession of him, should
-that woman be.
-
-A moment later he said, perhaps as though desirous of answering his
-own suggestion, perhaps of showing his prisoner that he, too, was
-under no doubt of where Sylvia and her friend--the one a woman the
-prisoner loved, the other the woman he loved--were.
-
-"Doubtless," he said, "they are not very far. Venloo has fallen," and
-De Violaine sighed as he told of one more defeat to his country.
-
-"To Marlborough!"
-
-"To the Allies at least. Marlborough draws near. Yet Liege may not
-fall so easy a prey to him as other of these towns and cities have
-done. If Tallard returns from the Rhine, if Boufflers but succours
-us--ah! England cannot win for ever!"
-
-"The time is almost past," Bevill said now, and even as his words fell
-from him the noble heart of De Violaine, the heart of the man who held
-this other in his grasp, was full of pity and compassion; "the time is
-almost past when it matters for me whether Marlborough or Tallard
-reaches Liege first, whether England or France wins at last. My day is
-almost done. But to go leaving her behind, unmarried yet widowed,
-since no other man will ever win the love she gave to me; to leave her
-to a long life cheerless and blank! Ah! ah!" he murmured, breaking
-off, "I dare not, must not think of that," while, his manly stoicism
-giving way, he turned his back on the other so that he should not see
-his face, and moved towards the deep embrasure of the window.
-
-As he did so De Violaine, observing Bevill's emotion, his poignant
-grief, stood for a moment looking at him. Then, some feeling stronger
-than a soldier's duty, a soldier's necessary harshness towards a
-prisoner, an enemy, one taken as Bevill had been taken, under a false
-name and bearing false papers, stirred him deeply. They were no
-longer, he felt, captor and captive, French soldier or English, but
-man and man. Advancing towards the embrasure, yet hesitating ere he
-did so, De Violaine placed his hand on Bevill's sleeve.
-
-"Be cheered," he said, impelled to do that which his humanity, in
-contradistinction to his duty, prompted him towards. "Be cheered.
-Until either De Boufflers or Tallard comes, the warrant for
-your--your--for the end--cannot be made. The finding of the Court
-cannot be carried out. And there is another chance, a hope for you. At
-Nimeguen the English hold a prisoner of our side who is to suffer for
-doing that which you have done."
-
-"Ah! if they should spare him."
-
-"If Marlborough has not signed his warrant, and almost I doubt it,
-seeing that day by day he places a greater distance between him and
-that city, there is a possibility of an exchange; while until Tallard
-returns here he cannot sign. No messenger from us can reach him now,
-since, Heaven help us! an iron ring is round us. Also, it may be,
-Tallard cannot fight his way here. Even though the worst befalls you,
-your fate is not yet."
-
-"But still prolonged, still in the balance! Ah! if she were here,"
-Bevill said again.
-
-"She is not. She and Ra--Madame de Valorme--have taken their own
-way--have placed leagues between them and this place. If she were
-here, she should see you."
-
-After which, as though feeling that he had said more than became the
-Governor of this fortress, and of others in the city, who held in his
-hands a prisoner belonging to the enemy, De Violaine went towards the
-door. Arrived at it, however, he paused, and looked back while saying:
-
-"Whatever faults you have committed against France, there was not one
-of those who judged you a week ago who did not sympathise with, nay
-pity, you. You heard the noble reason De Guise gave for not signing;
-the reason I gave for signing. And of the others--some of them worn
-veterans who have crossed swords with those of England scores of
-times--all acquitted you in their hearts, even while, in duty,
-condemning you. Tallard will be no harder than they, provided ever
-that Marlborough has himself been merciful to De Cabrieres, the
-prisoner whose fault is as yours."
-
-"All sympathised with, all pitied me," Bevill said to himself when De
-Violaine was gone. "Even though they condemned me as they did so. Ah!
-well, I must bear my lot whate'er befall. I knew the chances and faced
-them ere I left England; they have gone against me--let me face that,
-too."
-
-"Yet," he continued to muse, "'twas strange that the one from whom the
-Comtesse de Valorme feared the worst might come--De Guise--should have
-been the only one who refused to sign my condemnation."
-
-But now, as ever, his thoughts wandered from any fate, good or bad,
-that hovered over him to what she, his love, was doing, to where she
-might be. And in those thoughts there was always one surety strong and
-triumphant over all the rest. The thought, the certainty, that his
-image was never absent from her heart, the confidence that, since she
-had escaped out of Liege, the escape had only been made with a view to
-endeavouring to obtain succour for him.
-
-Though whether that endeavour, wild, almost hopeless as it must be,
-could meet with success was more than he dared dream of.
-
-"I am in God's hand," he murmured. "In God alone I must put my trust."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXIII.
-
-
-October had come by now, Marlborough's camp was at Sutendal, and the
-army was but waiting to receive the latest information as to the
-disposal of the French round Liege to throw their pontoons across
-the river Jaar, and, after crossing, to march in two columns on that
-city. Venloo was taken, so, too, were Ruremond and Stevenswaert; the
-Earl, to use his own words, had now but one enemy between him and
-Liege--the weather.
-
-Meanwhile, there had passed between Marlborough and Le Marechal de
-Boufflers some of those courteous epistles which, at that time, it was
-customary for the principal commanders of hostile forces to indite to
-each other. Cartels, as they were then termed, in which the one would
-inform the other that he had so many prisoners in his hands whom he
-desired to exchange for some of his own men who might happen to be in
-the hands of his adversary, and that he would be obliged by the
-consent of the other being given. In one of the most recent of these,
-Marlborough had stated briefly the case of Bevill Bracton, while
-making comparisons between it and that of the Marquis de Cabrieres,
-and had informed the French commander that he was willing to exchange
-the latter gentleman against his own countryman, now a prisoner in
-Liege.
-
-To this there had been returned an answer by De Boufflers in which he
-stated that, with regard to the ordinary prisoners in his and
-Marlborough's hands, the exchange should be willingly made, but that a
-regards the Englishman now a prisoner at Liege it was not in his power
-to do anything. The decision, he continued, rested with M. Tallard,
-who was at the moment near Bonn, although De Boufflers added that, if
-it were possible for him to communicate with Liege, he, as supreme
-commander of the French army of the Netherlands, would send orders
-that, presuming the English prisoner had not been already found guilty
-and executed, the execution should be delayed.
-
-"This is, perhaps, no very satisfying news," the Earl of Marlborough
-said, when, after having received this letter from his adversary, he
-proceeded to a tent near his own pavilion in which the Comtesse de
-Valorme and Sylvia were installed. Nor were they the only women
-present in this camp, since, wherever an army definitely halted for
-any length of time, there always appeared on the scene the wives and
-daughters of the local peasantry intent on selling any provisions and
-drink they might chance to be possessed of. Also, they were always
-willing to hire out their services in washing and mending, attending
-to the sick and wounded, and, sometimes, if they were of the worst
-species, of robbing the latter. But in the case of Sylvia and the
-Comtesse, an honest, respectable creature had been found at Asch who
-acted as general maid to both, and, when the camp was removed to
-Sutendal some few miles off, was willing to accompany them in that
-capacity.
-
-"Yet, my lord," Sylvia said, in answer to the Earl's remark, "at least
-it is something. Except for those last awful words, 'if the prisoner
-has not yet been found guilty and executed,' there is much hope in the
-letter. Le Marechal de Boufflers says if he could communicate with
-Liege he would send orders for delay."
-
-"That, however," the Earl replied, "it is impossible for him to do. We
-are between him and Liege, and another portion of our forces is
-between M. Tallard and Liege. In no way can that letter reach the
-Governor."
-
-"Therefore," said the Comtesse, "neither can the warrant, which your
-Lordship says would undoubtedly have to be signed by one of these two
-generals, reach him either. If one of the enemy, bearing that which
-will save Bevill Bracton, cannot reach M. de Violaine, how is it
-possible for the warrant to reach M. Tallard, and how be returned?"
-
-"That is indeed true," Marlborough said reflectively. "While, for our
-army, we cannot invest Liege yet. We must wait for our reinforcements.
-And even at the last moment, when the men of the garrison find
-themselves attacked by us, they might proceed to the extreme. Or--" but
-he paused. He would not repeat again that which must at least be as
-obvious to those women as to him, that which had been obvious to the
-Marechal de Boufflers--the possibility of Bevill having been already
-found guilty and executed.
-
-A moment later, however, the Earl added.
-
-"'Tis pity--a thousand pities--we cannot yet advance on Liege or
-communicate with the Governor--reach his ear somehow. For this reply
-from De Boufflers to me would be sufficient. With that letter from the
-Generalissimo of the French army in his hand, not even the signed
-warrant of Tallard could have effect."
-
-"You cannot reach him, you cannot communicate with him, my lord!"
-Sylvia exclaimed, her whole body quivering with excitement as she
-spoke, her eyes glistening like stars. "You cannot reach him!"
-
-"It is impossible. If I send forward a regiment they will be fallen
-upon, annihilated by some out of the thirty thousand troops that are
-near here; even an English regiment cannot fight half the army of
-France and Spain. Though," he added, "it is our curse to be always too
-self-vaunting and to believe we can perform superhuman feats."
-
-"They will not annihilate me," Sylvia said. "What an English regiment
-cannot do an English woman hastening to save her lover can."
-
-"You, Mistress Thorne! You!" Marlborough exclaimed, taken almost
-aback, if one so calm as he could by any means be startled. "You!"
-
-"Yes, I. I reached here in safety. I can return."
-
-"But you will be stopped; your reasons will be demanded. And--you may
-not fall into the hands of French officers--of gentlemen. Their
-patrols, pickets, outposts, are commanded by sergeants and corporals.
-They are not always even French but, instead, Spanish, and mercenaries
-at that. Also they may not be able to read the Marechal's letter, to
-understand----"
-
-"They will understand what I tell them," Sylvia exclaimed, carried
-away by the excitement of her thoughts and desires. "That I, an
-Englishwoman, one who, after escaping out of Liege when her lover was
-to be tried for his life as a spy, was forced--by her love--to return
-to his side. And," she continued, "they, those French and Spanish who
-hate us English so dearly, will not thwart but rather assist me to
-re-enter the jaws of the trap. Only they will not know that in my
-possession will be that letter of their supreme commander; one that
-will o'erweigh even the orders of M. Tallard, should he have sent
-them. If," she added, almost hysterically, as her memory reverted to
-those written words of the French marshal, "it is not too late. If it
-is not--ah! Heaven grant it may not be."
-
-
-[Illustration: "Sylvia threw herself weeping into the arms of the
-Comtesse."--_p_. 1176.]
-
-
-And Sylvia threw herself weeping into the arms of the Comtesse.
-
-For a moment--only a moment--Marlborough's eyes rested on her even as,
-it may be, he thought that here was a woman whose love and heroism,
-whose loyalty to the man who had gained her heart, might match with
-the love and loyalty of the woman who was his own wife--the woman who,
-hated by many for her imperious nature and haughty spirit, was the
-most fond, proud wife whom any husband's arms had ever enfolded. The
-woman who, even while she teased and vexed him with her overbearing
-temper and violent disposition, loved him as deeply and fondly as the
-day when first they became lovers.
-
-A moment later and when now Sylvia stood once more upright before him,
-he, taking her hand and raising it to his lips, said:
-
-"It may not be that he shall perish. Mr. Bracton must live even to
-claim you for his bride. Therefore, your desire to return to Liege
-with the letter--it is a shrewd one, worthy of a woman's wit!--shall
-not be gainsaid. While, for the rest, you shall be accompanied some
-part of the way, 'Tis but a day's ride. Also," and now his voice sank
-a little lower so that the shrillness that was so often apparent in it
-was no longer perceptible, "if they permit that you should see him,
-your affianced husband----"
-
-"Ah!" Sylvia said. "If--if I should see him! If--no! no!" she
-almost moaned. "I cannot say the words." But recovering herself a
-moment later, forcing herself to be valiant, she continued, "If
-he--is--still--alive it may be we shall become fellow prisoners. Once
-M. de Violaine has me in his keeping again he will give me no further
-chance of escape."
-
-"Nor me," the Comtesse said. "In his stern sense of honour he will
-deem me a traitor. Though I am none to France but only to the King and
-'her'--to the woman he has made his wife." For it was as "her" and
-"she" that all France spoke of the "dark and fatal woman," De
-Maintenon--all France, no matter of what faith, while at the same time
-refusing to accord her the title of Queen or the right to bear that
-title. De Maintenon who, born a Protestant, had now been for years the
-most cruel and vindictive oppressor of all Protestants.
-
-"If it may be so," Marlborough continued; "say to him, I beg, that
-from the moment we meet again he shall become once more a soldier of
-the Queen. Even though he has not accomplished that which he set out
-to do, the attempt was gallant, was well worthy of reward."
-
-"Heaven above bless you," Sylvia said, and now she held out her hand
-to Marlborough, while, as he took it and as, for a moment, his eyes
-scanned all the troubled beauty of her face, she added: "Henceforth,
-no matter what befall, in the prayers of a humble subject of that
-Queen her greatest subject shall be remembered. Farewell, my lord. I
-thank you from my heart."
-
-"Not farewell. We shall meet again at Liege. We and one other--your
-future husband. I pray it may be so. Such noble bravery as yours
-cannot surely go unrewarded."
-
-And now, ere departing, he turned from Sylvia to the Comtesse de
-Valorme, his manner to her equally full of the chivalrous courtesy
-which never failed him.
-
-"Madame," he said, "ere you, too, depart with your friend, believe
-that, as I have already said, England is preparing to make the cause
-of those in the South of France hers. Already there are thousands of
-French Protestants who have found succour and shelter in our land; the
-Queen's intentions towards all of the Protestant religion cannot be
-doubted. The matter is already broached. The Council is deliberating
-on sending a fleet to the Mediterranean to succour those of your faith
-and ours. Rest assured, madame, nothing will be forgotten that can aid
-them."
-
-As the Earl of Marlborough spoke, doubtless through the information he
-was regularly supplied with from England, so things occurred. Sir
-Cloudesley Shovel, the English admiral, did send the _Pembroke_ and
-the _Tartar_ to the Gulf of Narbonne with a view not only to supply
-the Camisards with money and arms and ammunition, but also to land men
-to assist them. But, when they arrived off the coast and made signals
-all night, there were none on shore who could comprehend them, for the
-simple reason that the French Protestant who had been sent by the Earl
-of Nottingham from London with the key to these signals, had been
-arrested before he could reach Cette, and his body was at the
-very time lying broken to pieces and mutilated on the wheel at
-Aigues-Mortes. Later, but unhappily much later, the peace that was
-patched up between Louis and his Protestant subjects came about not by
-the force of arms but by the humanity of a French general, De Villars.
-
-But neither the Comtesse de Valorme nor the Earl of Marlborough could
-look into the glass of Time or tell what seeds should grow and what
-should not, and, consequently, if the former did not set out with
-Sylvia with her heart thoroughly at ease, at least that heart was full
-of hope. Hope that those of her faith might at last be free from the
-miseries they had endured so long; from the burnings, the wheels and
-dungeons, the gallows formed by their own fruit trees, the deaths from
-starvation of their old parents and helpless children, the galleys and
-the forced exile to stranger lands.
-
-And also, she set out with one other great, one supreme hope in her
-heart for the immediate future. The hope, coupled with a prayer that
-she and Sylvia might be in time to save Bevill from the fate that
-still must threaten him, if already the worst had not befallen--the
-prayer that, at last, he and Sylvia might be happy.
-
-"For," she told herself again as she had done many times before, "they
-love each other. Let my happiness in this world be to see their
-happiness; my greatest hope never to lose hope that they may yet be
-united, since, for me, there can never be any other," and, as these
-thoughts passed through her mind, the tears fell from her eyes.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXIV.
-
-
-As the night fell over Liege, a night sombre and dark, and with no
-stars beginning to twinkle above, Bevill Bracton turned away from his
-accustomed place at the embrasure of the room that was his prison,
-while wondering how many more days and nights would pass over his head
-ere he left this place for freedom--of one kind or another. For the
-days had followed each other in weary rotation--he had, indeed, lost
-count of them now, and, except for the continuous clanging of all the
-bells on Sundays, and a question sometimes asked of the warder who
-brought his meals, he scarce recollected what period of each week he
-had arrived at. Nay, more, except that he had rigorously forced
-himself to scratch a mark each day with his nail on the rough,
-whitewashed wall, he could not have told whether he had been there a
-month or two months. There was nothing but the absence of the swallows
-that had built under the eaves, the deepening of the russet on the
-leaves of the trees outside, and then the fall of the leaves, the
-increasing chill of the room in which he had been so long incarcerated
-and the shortening of the days, to tell him of the progress of time.
-
-De Violaine had come to him no more. He had been left entirely to
-himself, except for the visits of that one man, the soldier, who acted
-as his gaoler.
-
-Nor did he see or hear aught outside that could relieve the weariness
-of his existence. Alone, morning after morning, he observed the
-soldiers driving up the mules laden with bread and vegetables for the
-supply of all in the Citadel, while, also, morning after morning, he
-perceived that the loads on the backs of the animals became more
-scanty and that the peasants, who came with their baskets when he was
-first brought here, came no more now. Whereby he knew that, gradually,
-the provisions of the locality were giving out, or that--and each
-morning and night he prayed it might be so--the Allies must be drawing
-closer and closer round the French lines, and that either they or his
-own countrymen were approaching. For a week now he had also noticed
-that the rations brought to him had become more and more scanty, and
-that, when his gaoler had placed them before him he had done so with a
-surly look which might have been intended for an apology for their
-meagreness, or, on the other hand, as one intended to suggest that, at
-this time, the fewer unnecessary mouths there were to feed the better
-for the others. Not knowing, however, what the man's looks might truly
-mean, he made no observation on the sparseness of the meals now
-supplied him, to which, in absolute fact, he was utterly indifferent.
-
-As, however, on this dark, early autumn night Bevill turned away from
-the deep window to cast himself on his pallet, neither bedclothes nor
-light having ever been supplied him since his detention, he heard
-voices speaking below on the stone courtyard which was between the
-wall of the fortress itself and the gate known as the Porte de la
-Ville. And not only did he hear those voices, but, on turning his eyes
-back towards the window, he saw the reflection of some light cast upon
-the upper part of the embrasure. A moment later, and even before he
-could return to the window to glance below, he heard the sound of
-planks and boards being cast down upon the stones.
-
-"The Allies must be near," he whispered to himself, "very near. And
-their presence is known. Some further protection against them is about
-to be undertaken, something is to be erected, perhaps to shield or
-obscure the defenders. Some mantlets, it may be."
-
-Then, his heart stirred, his pulses beating at the hopes that had
-sprung to his breast; the hopes that even now, at the eleventh hour,
-the chance of escape, of rescue, was at hand, Bevill glanced towards
-the stone courtyard again.
-
-The soldiers below were, he saw, undoubtedly about to raise some
-erection with the planks and boards they had brought into the
-courtyard. Yet, to the mind of the prisoner above, who, in his time,
-had not only taken part in sieges but had himself on more than one
-occasion been besieged in some strong fortress or town of the
-Netherlands, it did not appear that either mantlet or temporary shield
-against sharpshooters of the enemy was about to be erected.
-
-Instead, four large stones, each forming the corner of a square, had
-been removed from the earth below, and easily removed, too, as though
-this was not the first time they had been subjected to the process.
-
-A moment later, in the spots those stones had occupied four short
-posts had taken their place, while, next, two other stones were
-removed in the middle of the square space. A second later a platform,
-itself a square of about eight feet, had been lifted on to the top of
-those posts and was being nailed down to them at each corner.
-
-"I misdoubt me of what it is they do," Bevill murmured to himself as
-he saw this, while now the warm glow, the throb, the tremor of happy
-anticipation that had sprung to his heart but a few moments ago ebbed
-from it, leaving in its place a chill as of ice, one that he thought
-must be as the chill of death.
-
-"Ah!" he gasped now. "Ah! It is so. That tells all."
-
-For the soldiers, still working steadily below, had lifted first one
-piece of framework and then another--two long posts that, in their
-way, resembled signal posts at crossroads--on to the wooden platform,
-had thrust the lower ends through it into the two holes last left
-empty, and had gradually fitted them into the vacant spaces.
-
-As now those things stood there towering some eight feet above the
-platform, he almost reeled back into the embrasure. For it needed
-nothing more, it needed no rope thrown over the cross-beams that,
-illumined alone in the dusky light by the flare of the torches which
-burnt flickeringly in the night air, seemed like some ghastly hands
-pointing the sombre road to death--to tell him that they were gibbets
-awaiting their victims.
-
-"The hour is at hand," he whispered. "At dawn to-morrow if not now,
-I--" then suddenly he paused. "No, no," he exclaimed a moment later.
-"Not I! Neither of them is for me. My hour is not yet. They are for
-those others--Francbois, Stuven. My death is to be more noble or, at
-least, less ignominious. 'Tis true. There is still a chance for me--a
-chance for life. For her. For our love and happiness together."
-
-Yet in an instant Bevill knew that he had spoken too soon.
-
-As still he gazed below, fascinated by the sight of those awful,
-hideous things, he saw the man who was in command of this party, a
-sergeant of the dragoons of Risbourg, look round the courtyard as
-though in search of something. Next, he saw him advance towards the
-farther wall, while evidently counting his footsteps as he did so.
-Then, having touched the wall, he recounted them backwards, stopped
-two paces short of the spot whence he had before started, and, taking
-a chisel out of the hand of one of the others, stooped down and
-scratched a long line on the stones. After which he returned to the
-wall, made some other rough scratchings on it at about the height of a
-man's head, and, pointing his hand at the mark on the stones and
-afterwards at that on the wall, said something to the soldier which,
-naturally, Bevill could not hear.
-
-Not hear! Nay, what hearing was necessary--to him, a soldier; to him
-who had ere now seen the place marked out where a condemned man was to
-stand while, at another place, the spot was marked where the platoon
-that should despatch him was to be drawn up! A million words uttered
-trumpet-tongued could have told him no more than those significant
-actions of the dragoon had done.
-
-Now that Bevill knew the worst all tremors, all trepidations were
-gone, even as every warm glow of hope was gone too. The end was close
-at hand, and he knew it. Therefore, all bitterness was past. He was a
-soldier, he told himself, an Englishman who had faced thousands of
-bullets: a dozen could not fright him now.
-
-Calmly, as though watching curiously the actions of strangers who
-interested him but disturbed him not at all, he leant against the
-window frame looking down at the preparations for his death and that
-of the others. Counting indifferently, too, the distance between the
-scratches on the stones and those on the wall, and endeavouring to
-decide whether the muzzles of the muskets would be fourteen or sixteen
-paces from his heart as the soldiers presented them!
-
-Then, suddenly, he saw the men below draw themselves up stiffly to an
-attitude of attention, and perceived that De Violaine, enveloped in a
-long blue cavalry cloak, had entered the courtyard, and was regarding
-the scaffold. Also, he appeared to be giving some directions about one
-of the gallows supports, judging by the manner in which he pointed
-with his gloved hand to it and by the fact that, a moment later, one
-of the men mounted the scaffold and began to make the post more firm
-in the socket below it. Next, De Violaine gazed at the marks on the
-stones and on the wall, after which he shrugged his shoulders, said a
-word to the sergeant, and turned away and left the place. The moment
-he was gone Bevill saw that the soldiers had gathered round the
-sergeant and seemed to be asking him questions, and that they all
-gesticulated earnestly.
-
-"It will be to-morrow, at dawn," he said to himself as he saw the men
-retiring with the almost burnt-out torches in their hands, leaving the
-courtyard in darkness. "To-morrow. Ah! I have still six hours or so
-left," as now he heard the clock of St. Lambert boom out ten over the
-city--the clock he had grown so accustomed to listening to--and
-listening for--during his long period of imprisonment. "Six hours in
-which to make my peace with God, to humbly fit myself to go before
-Him. Hours in which to pray for her who sits at home wondering what
-may have befallen me and whether I live or am dead and gone before
-her."
-
-For now, as his hour of death drew near, his thoughts turned not to
-the girl whom he had but lately known and learnt to love, but to his
-grey-haired mother whose love had been his from the moment of his
-birth; at whose knees he had learned to lisp his first prayer.
-
-Yet still there was not absent from his mind the stately form, the
-beautiful face of Sylvia--the latter ever present to him as he had
-seen it last--bedashed with tears and piteous in its sorrow. Of her he
-could think, too, and would think as the order to the platoon was
-given, as the flints fell, and, a second later, the bullets found his
-heart.
-
-"Sylvia! Mother!" he murmured. "The two I had in the world to love me
-and to love; the two who will mourn my end. The one but for a short
-time, since now she is grown old and feeble; but the other--ah! God,
-it may be for years."
-
-In the darkness he had reached his pallet, intent on casting himself
-on his knees by it and so passing his last few hours--later, there
-would be a long sleep!--when he heard a sound he had grown well
-accustomed to in the last few weeks--the sound of a soldier's tread,
-of the keys jangling in his hand as he came on.
-
-"Is it now?" Bevill whispered. "Now? At once? If so, be brave. A
-soldier. And--remember. Their names the last upon your lips, their
-memories the last in your thoughts."
-
-A moment later the key grated in the lock, the door was opened, and a
-soldier bearing a flambeau came in accompanied by De Violaine.
-
-"Set down the light," the latter said, "place it in the socket and
-leave us." After which, and when the man was gone, De Violaine
-advanced towards where Bevill stood and said quietly, yet while
-seeming to brace himself to speak:
-
-"Means were found to communicate with M. Tallard."
-
-"Ah!"
-
-"To summon him to our assistance. He has not come, but----"
-
-"I understand," Bevill said, instantly, divining the remainder of what
-the other would say; "I have seen the preparations made below. The
-warrants are signed. Is it?" he asked calmly, "to be now or at dawn?"
-
-"It had to be done, no matter what pity, what sympathy you aroused. In
-the position that all who judged you stood, they had to be inflexible
-in their honour, in their duty."
-
-"I need hear no more. Yet, my time is short. I would spend it alone."
-
-"Do not misunderstand me. The warrants are signed but a message has
-come from--from De Boufflers--that overrides those warrants. A
-message has been brought by a swift, a willing messenger--one who
-would speak with you."
-
-Utterly bewildered, yet with once more that mad rush of joy to his
-heart as he comprehended that the Marshal's message nullified the
-signed warrant of his subordinate; that, for a time at least, his life
-was safe, Bevill could scarcely understand clearly De Violaine's
-latter words, nor, as a matter of fact, his halting manner and strange
-agitation. Yet one thing alone he did understand, namely, that De
-Violaine seemed to suppose some self-extenuation to be necessary in
-regard to the inflexibility of which he had spoken--an extenuation for
-which, in truth, Bevill himself saw no occasion, remembering De
-Violaine's position and the position in which he, by his own actions,
-had placed himself.
-
-But now he found his voice; his words fell pell-mell over each other
-as he said:
-
-"I am bewildered. I--I--the suddenness of this reprieve, even though
-it be no more, has dulled my senses. I cannot understand. A messenger
-here from Le Marechal de Boufflers--to me--a condemned spy! Brought by
-a swift, a willing messenger."
-
-"A messenger, now a prisoner like yourself!"
-
-"In mercy, I beseech you explain--" But he stopped. For, even as De
-Violaine uttered these last words, he went towards the door and
-returned a moment later, leading a woman by the hand--a woman who was
-wrapped in a long _houppelande_, or lady's riding cloak, but who,
-since the furred hood was thrown back from her face, was a moment
-later clasped to Bevill's heart.
-
-*    *    *    *    *    *    *
-
-"I am in time. Thank God, thank God," Sylvia had said again and again
-after that fond embrace, and when now they were alone, or
-comparatively alone, since De Violaine had departed as those two met,
-though leaving the turnkey outside in the corridor and also leaving
-the door open--open because, it may be, of what he knew was now going
-on outside the city. Because, if all happened as he feared, those
-locked within the cells or rooms of that Citadel would soon have very
-little chance of leaving them alive. Marlborough was within three
-miles of Liege; already the magistracy and the commissioners of the
-Cathedral chapter were arranging to deliver up the city to him, and
-St. Walburgh had been set on fire by the French garrison. Already,
-too, De Violaine had been summoned by the advance portion of
-Marlborough's army to surrender, but had replied that "it would be
-time enough to consider that when their provisions were exhausted, six
-weeks hence."
-
-"My love, my love," Sylvia murmured. "I have saved you--you who would
-have died to save me--you who strove so valiantly."
-
-"And failed! Yet did not fail either, since are not you, my sweet, the
-gain of a loss?"
-
-"Also another reward is yours. Lord Marlborough restores you to the
-life you covet, the life that I would have you lead, except only for
-one thing."
-
-"One thing. What, Sylvia?"
-
-"That, following this life, I must part from you; must let you go from
-my side. You whom I would have ever near to me, you from whom I would
-never part more, you whom I love with my whole heart and soul."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXV.
-
-
-The suburb of St. Walburgh was in flames, the French soldiers,
-consisting of twelve battalions who had been stationed there, had come
-into the Citadel and the Chartreuse. A hundred houses had been set on
-fire by them, and, ere dawn came, all that part of Liege was as light
-as day. The magistracy and the chapter against whom no orders, even if
-they had been issued, could have had any effect since now the gates
-were neglected by the French, had visited Marlborough in his camp
-outside, and had signed articles as to the disposition of the city and
-all in it, while three English battalions under Lord Cutts, and three
-Dutch, held the North gate and endeavoured to keep order in the
-streets. It only remained now that the artillery should arrive, the
-fascines be cut and the trenches opened for the Citadel and Chartreuse
-to be attacked, unless those within them surrendered.
-
-Inside that room in which Bevill had passed so many weary days,
-waiting to meet the doom that had been pronounced on him, there were
-now three prisoners, namely, he who had so long occupied it, the woman
-he loved so tenderly, and the Comtesse de Valorme. For she, too, had
-been detained by De Violaine in consequence of her having escaped with
-Sylvia out of Liege, and placed herself in communication with the
-enemy. Inflexible to the last, strong in his duty towards the
-interests of the country he loved and the King whom he despised, he
-had done that which honour demanded and made prisoners of both women.
-
-"Yet," he said bitterly to the Comtesse, as he informed her of what
-must be done, "be cheered. Our positions must soon be reversed. The
-old walls of this Citadel and of the Chartreuse will not long resist
-the battering pieces and mortars, or the double grenades, that the
-Earl of Marlborough is known to have with him, and then--well,
-then!--you will be free. I shall be the prisoner."
-
-"At least," Sylvia, who had heard his words, said, "you will be a
-noble one--noble as I shall ever esteem you, though now I know that
-your hand signed the condemnation of my lover; that in your stern,
-rigid sense of honour you found the means of communicating with M.
-Tallard, of obtaining his confirmation of the sentence. Ah!" she
-continued, "that one so loyal as you should serve so evil a master."
-
-"Duty before all, mademoiselle," De Violaine answered. "When Louis
-gave me my first brevet, when I vowed fidelity to him and France,
-there was no more noble king in Europe, in the whole world. There was
-no master less cruel to his subjects, no matter what their faith was."
-
-Now, on this night, however, De Violaine was not there, but, instead,
-on the battlement of the Citadel directing all preparations to be made
-for resisting the siege. For already the English artillery which had
-come up the Meuse was disembarked and most of it dragged up the hill
-upon which the Citadel stood, as were also forty-eight huge mortars
-invented by the great engineer C[oe]horn (who was now present with the
-force), as well as several Seville mortars, the bombs from which could
-blow to pieces the walls and doors of fortresses. And, ominous sign
-for those within the Citadel! the fuses were all lighted.
-
-Behind these lay the troops of General Ingoldsby and Brigadier
-Stanley, as well as four companies of the Grenadiers, while, to
-protect them from being taken in the rear, were the dragoons and
-Bevill's old regiment, the Cuirassiers.
-
-Afar off the autumn dawn was coming now; away towards where the Rhine
-lay, the eyes of those three watchers could see the darkness of the
-night changing to grey, and, swiftly, the grey to a pale daffodil that
-told of the dayspring which was at hand; then, next, a fleck of flame
-shot like a barbed arrow above the daffodil that was changing to pink
-and opal; the rim of the sun was seen to be swiftly mounting behind.
-At this moment, clearly on the still, cold morning air a trumpet rang
-out beneath the Citadel; another answered from below the Chartreuse
-across the river; a moment later the C[oe]horns had belched forth
-their bombs and the six and twelve pounders of the artillery had made
-their first discharge.
-
-"Oh! to be there!" Bevill cried. "There behind them, with the old
-regiment, instead of a helpless man, a waster, here. Yet, no, no! My
-place is here by you, my heart, my very own, to save and help you even
-as you have saved me."
-
-But from Sylvia there came no response, or, at least, none in answer
-to his words. Instead, from the lips of both these women, brave as
-each was, there came a cry, a gasp that was in actual fact a
-suppressed shriek. Already against the wall of the Citadel more than
-one bomb had struck and exploded with an awful crash; they saw falling
-swiftly before the window huge masses of detached masonry that
-thundered a moment later on to the stones of the courtyard below; they
-saw, through the grime and smoke that rolled suddenly away on the
-breathless, unstirred morning air, that slowly the English infantry
-was creeping up nearer the great guns in preparation for a rush. For
-already a breach was made below; it was not only the side of the
-Citadel that was now being battered by the attackers.
-
-Still, a little later, the mouth of the embrasure was closed by the
-explosion of a bomb, that, while shattering the window into a million
-pieces, burst in the stone framework and also dislodged the stones
-above. Those in the room were therefore in darkness once more, a
-darkness as profound as that of the night now passed away, and, with
-an anxious cry, Bevill demanded if either of his companions had been
-struck by the dislodged masonry.
-
-"Ah! heaven be praised," he cried, finding both were safe. "But now,
-now, the time has come to leave this. The door is still open; even
-were it not so, none would keep us confined here at such a moment.
-Come! Come At least let us make our way below."
-
-Then, hurriedly escorting Sylvia and the Comtesse through the
-corridors in which--though they passed now and again French soldiers
-hurrying either up or down the staircase--they met with no
-molestation, they reached the _salle d'armes_ on the lower floor.
-
-Yet, as they did so, they saw also the terrible devastation that the
-bombardment had already wrought. One side of a corridor, the outer one
-formed by the great front of the Citadel, was entirely blown away; a
-room or large cell that presented the appearance of having been
-recently occupied--since they saw within it the _debris_ of a
-shattered pallet and a table--was a mass of ruins; the three remaining
-sides were open to the morning air. Also, more than once, the women
-had to raise their dresses to step over wounded men lying in the
-passages, who had doubtless been shot while themselves firing from the
-windows.
-
-But still they were in the _salle d'armes_: here, since it was not
-quite so exposed to the fire of the besiegers, they might hope to
-remain in comparative safety.
-
-"Come," Bevill said to his companions. "Come to this corner. At this
-spot you are farthest removed from the outer wall which is alone
-likely to be struck. Meanwhile, since one knows not what violence
-these soldiers may attempt in the bitterness of their defeat, it is as
-well I should be armed." Saying which he moved towards the trophies of
-ancient weapons that decorated all the inner side of the great
-_salle_, and let his eyes rove over the swords that hung upon the
-wall.
-
-"This should serve," he said to himself, reaching out his hand towards
-a great Schiavona or Venetian broadsword; one with a long bi-convex
-blade that, in the hands of an expert and powerful swordsman, might do
-terrible execution.
-
-Returning now to where Sylvia and Madame de Valorme were, Bevill
-seated himself by the former's side while telling both that the
-Citadel must soon surrender before such an attack as this now being
-made, and that, doubtless, the Chartreuse must be in the same
-position. Yet his words fell almost unheard upon their ears, so awful
-was the din around. From the roof of this old fortress discharge
-followed discharge unceasingly; from the windows the crack of muskets
-went on, and still against the walls the artillery balls and the bombs
-of the besiegers thundered and crashed.
-
-"It must cease ere long," Bevill said. "Ah! do not look. Avert your
-glances. They are already bringing down the wounded from above," while
-he added beneath his breath, "and the slain."
-
-As he spoke, what was evidently either a powder magazine or one for
-grenades blew up with an awful roar, while the concussion caused even
-that old solid hall to rock. And now Sylvia and the Comtesse threw
-themselves on their knees by the bench on which they had been sitting,
-and prayed that further slaughter and devastation might be spared.
-
-Also, each prayed for him who, by their side, was keeping watch and
-ward over them; for him who, entering but a few months earlier into
-their lives, had now become so dear to them.
-
-Unwilling to disturb them even by the closeness of his presence,
-Bevill softly withdrew towards the other end of the _salle d'armes_;
-towards that spot where he had stood to hear his fate pronounced, the
-spot where Stuven had denounced Francbois as a liar and himself as the
-executioner of the renegade, Sparmann. Towards, also, that spot where
-the doomsman had stood above the awful instruments of his calling. He
-stood there, looking on the scene where all these things had happened,
-when, suddenly, there rang through the hall the shriek of a woman,
-and, next, a cry from Sylvia's lips. "Bevill! Look, look! Beware. Look
-behind you!"
-
-In an instant he saw that which had so much terrified the girl he
-loved. Creeping from behind a pillar there came towards him a man with
-a weapon in his hand that had, doubtless, also been taken earlier from
-the collection of arms--a man whom at first he did not recognise, so
-ghastly was his face, so wildly staring his eyes, so dishevelled his
-whole appearance. But in a moment he knew him. He knew that this was
-Francbois, Francbois who should have died this morning, but who, in
-the confusion of the siege, had escaped from wherever he had been
-confined.
-
-"Wretch!" he exclaimed, as, turning, he recognised him. "Doubly
-treacherous wretch! Again you seek my life, again attempt it behind my
-back."
-
-"I love her," the other hissed. "Her, her! And she loves you. So
-be it. She shall have nought but your memory left to love," and he
-sprang full at Bevill, while brandishing the sword he held. For a
-moment--only a moment--it was in Bevill's mind to run the craven
-through from breast to back, as he came on. Yet, in a second moment
-the thought was gone. If Francbois were not mad he was still beneath
-his vengeance. Whatever his doom might be, now or in the future, he
-should not find it at his hands; those hands should not be stained by
-the blood of such as he.
-
-
-[Illustration: "A moment later Bevill's foot was on the blade."]
-
-
-Stepping back, therefore, as the other came full at him, one turn of
-the Schiavona, as it met the blade wielded by the other, was enough.
-That blade fell with a clang from Francbois' hand to the stone floor;
-a moment later Bevill's foot was on it.
-
-"Go, hangdog," he said. "Seek another executioner than I."
-
-With a cry--almost pitiful in its tone of misery, vile as the creature
-was--with a howl of wild despair, Francbois rushed now across the
-_salle d'armes_ to the other side of it; the side against which the
-English bombs and cannon balls were being hurled, and there
-endeavoured to snatch a huge mace out of another trophy of arms. But,
-suddenly, not only he but Bevill, and also the two affrighted women,
-started with terror at that which they saw now.
-
-From another door than the one by which they had entered they saw a
-second figure approaching, creeping towards Francbois; a figure in
-whose eyes there was a more awful light than even those of Francbois
-possessed; one whose lips gibbered as the lips of the raving maniac
-gibber; whose face was flecked with the foam from them. It was the
-form of Stuven, also free, of Stuven, now an absolute demoniac, that
-they saw; the form of the man whose thirst for the blood of spies and
-traitors was at its height. Armed also with an ancient weapon, a thing
-pointed and sharp like the shell-dag of mediaeval days, he crept as
-swiftly towards Francbois as the panther creeps towards its prey,
-while uttering incoherent sounds yet telling plainly all that was in
-his distraught brain by the look that shone from out those awful,
-scintillating eyes, and by the hideous twitching of that mouth. And
-Francbois, paralysed with fear, shrieked aloud and turned to flee. At
-this moment the madman flew with a bound at him, the great two-handled
-knife was raised--yet it was never fated to be buried in the unhappy
-wretch's breast.
-
-There came a fresh discharge of bombs and artillery against the wall
-of the _salle d'armes_, that wall already so sorely tried; the
-trembling, half-fainting women, with Bevill now by their side, saw the
-whole mass bulge inwardly, even as a sail bulges when a fierce gust of
-wind catches it; a horrible, cracking roar was heard, a blinding dust
-filled the room. In front of them a fearful chasm yawned as the
-greater portion of that side of the hall fell in, while carrying below
-part of the floor, and, at the same time, exposing the whole of the
-besiegers to their gaze.
-
-Francbois's would-be executioner had found him, and together they had
-perished.
-
-An instant later Bevill, looking out through the great opening made by
-the fall of that side of the _salle d'armes_, observed that an order
-had been suddenly given by the English for all firing to cease, and
-knew that, above the Citadel, a white flag must be flying now. Also,
-he saw the English flag run up upon the outer wall, he heard the
-soldiers huzzaing and singing the National Anthem--then so new, now
-known over all the world! he knew that Liege was in Marlborough's
-hands.
-
-Clasping Sylvia to his heart with one hand, as with the other he held
-that of Madame de Valorme, he murmured: "The end of these griefs has
-come," while a moment later he whispered in Sylvia's ear, "Sweet love,
-all fears are done with. Hope shines resplendent on us at last."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXVI.
-
-
-Outside Mynheer Van Ryck's house, a month or so later, there stood a
-coach upon which was placed a small amount of baggage. By its side,
-held by a groom who had some considerable difficulty in restraining
-its restlessness, a bright bay mare emitted great gusts from her
-nostrils and pawed the stones impatiently--a mare on the corners of
-whose saddle-cloth were stamped a crown, the letters "A.R." and a pair
-of cross swords, as was also the case with the holsters and the
-bridle-plate.
-
-After the fall of the Citadel, and before the French were allowed to
-march out on condition that they returned at once into France and
-separated, the whole place had been ransacked by the English troops,
-and amongst the horses found was one that, later, a mousquetaire said
-belonged to the English prisoner who should have been shot the day the
-Citadel fell. That prisoner, being now at liberty, was sent for by
-orders of General Ingoldsby, and, when the meeting between him and the
-animal was witnessed, there was no need for him to confirm the
-statement.
-
-For La Rose, on hearing Bevill's voice, created such a stampede among
-the other horses and rushed at him with such endearments--testified by
-nearly knocking him down with her head and then by rubbing her soft,
-velvet muzzle all over him as she whinnied loudly--that there and then
-before the English victors and French captives he vowed that never
-would he part from her.
-
-Now, therefore, she waited for him to come forth and mount her, so
-that he might ride by the coach that conveyed his wife to England.
-
-For, a fortnight since, in one of those churches of the Reformed Faith
-that had sprung up in every part of the Netherlands since the days of
-William the Liberator, Sylvia and Bevill had been made man and wife,
-my lord Marlborough's chaplain having performed the ceremony. And,
-though there were not many present to witness the bridal, they were
-mostly those amongst whom Bevill's lot had been cast since first he
-made the attempt to assist Sylvia to escape from Liege--an attempt
-that again and again he told himself had resulted only in failure, yet
-a failure that brought so fair and welcome a success in its train as
-that which now he experienced.
-
-From Van Ryck's hands he received his bride; close by them stood the
-Comtesse de Valorme, her face calm and tranquil, but revealing nothing
-of whatever might be within. Also there were present Captain Barringer
-and Sir George Saxby, as well as one or two officers of the
-Cuirassiers who had been junior to Bevill in the regiment but were now
-captains. Yet there was one other person present, clad as before in
-the blue coat and still wearing across his breast the blue ribbon of
-the Garter; still tranquil, too, as became a man able to read and
-forecast his destiny and the splendour of a near future. He who was
-now, in the space of a month or so, to attain the highest rank an
-English subject can hold; he who, two years hence, was to crush beyond
-all power of recovery the armies of the most superb despot Europe had
-ever known.
-
-Bevill's kiss--the first kiss as her husband--on Sylvia's brow, her
-hand upon his arm, they left the altar, and, when the after
-formalities had been concluded, made their way from out the church.
-But ere they left it the Earl of Marlborough, taking from his breast a
-paper, said:
-
-"For wedding-gifts there is no opportunity, yet one I would
-proffer to you. Mr. Bracton, I know the hopes with which you set
-out from England. It is in my power to gratify them, since I, as
-Captain-General, stand here for the Queen. Our late ruler removed you
-from the service you loved; I, in the name of our present one, restore
-you to it. Some years of opportunity, of promotion, you must lose of
-necessity; your brother officers of the Cuirassers who were your
-juniors will now be your seniors. Yet, take heart. You possess two
-things that should go far to spur you on to gallant efforts: a fair, a
-noble bride--and youth."
-
-Then, without giving Bevill time to utter the thanks that, though his
-breast was full of them, his lips might have found difficulty in
-uttering, the Earl left the church, after kissing the hands of Sylvia
-and the Comtesse, and giving his own to Bevill.
-
-The absence of that one whom Bevill would fain have seen present in
-the church, his late custodian, the gallant De Violaine, was felt
-regretfully by him. Yet it was not to be. As the breach was made soon
-after the siege began, De Violaine, rushing from the roof to where the
-English grenadiers were pouring through it, received a thrust from one
-of the officers' swords. Later, as Bevill and Sylvia passed from the
-_salle d'armes_, they saw him lying in the covered way and being
-ministered to by one of the regimental surgeons. This sad sight
-produced in the tender heart of Radegonde de Valorme a feeling, a
-recollection of past years and of the fortitude with which this man
-had borne the blighting of the one great hope that had filled his
-heart during those years. As she saw him stretched now upon the coarse
-sacking on which he had been laid; as she recognised that, from first
-to last, he had had no companion but his duty to cheer his lonely
-life, her memory flew swiftly back to earlier days--the days when he,
-young, elated with the promise of his career, favoured by fortune, had
-craved only one other thing, a woman's--her own love--and had failed
-to obtain his heart's desire.
-
-Swiftly she advanced now towards him; a moment later she was kneeling
-by his side; still a moment later she was murmuring. "Andre! Andre!
-Ah! say this is not the end. Ah, no! it cannot, cannot be. You are
-still young--oh!" And she wept.
-
-"He may live," the surgeon who had been told off to watch by De
-Violaine's side said. "If the fever from his wound abates to-night he
-may do so."
-
-"I pray God," the Comtesse said, then whispered again to the wounded
-man, "Andre, I will not leave Liege until I see you restored. You
-shall be removed to Van Ryck's house. I alone will nurse you back to
-recovery."
-
-But De Violaine, understanding her words, murmured:
-
-"As well leave me. What matters now my life or death!"
-
-
-The impatience of La Rose grew greater as still the rider whom the
-wayward creature had loved to carry on her back, the rider for whom
-she had pined and fretted during their long separation, did not come.
-Yet soon, though she did not know it, that impatience would be at an
-end. Inside the old Dutch house the last partings were being made; the
-two who were going forth from it, never perhaps to cross its threshold
-again, were bidding farewell to those left behind. Even now Bevill was
-standing by the couch on which De Violaine lay through the long days,
-while from his lips fell the last words that he supposed he would ever
-utter to him whose prisoner he had been, to him who had been so humane
-a custodian.
-
-"I pray," he was saying now, "that your recovery may be swift and
-assured; I pray that between your land and mine peace may exist at
-last. Above all, I pray that we may never meet as opposing soldiers;
-that, where'er the tide of war shall roll, it shall not bring us face
-to face. But, as friends--ah, yes! For, Monsieur de Violaine, be my
-life long or short as best it pleases God, I shall ever hold dear the
-memory of him who, when he had me in his hand, treated me neither as
-spy nor foreign foe, but with a gentleness such as a noble heart alone
-could prompt."
-
-"Farewell. Heaven bless you!" De Violaine said. "You should be very
-happy. I, too, will pray for that happiness. And, should we ever meet
-again it shall be as brothers, an' you will. For brothers we are in
-our faith and in our calling. Farewell."
-
-And now all were parted with, excepting only one--Radegonde. Madame
-Van Ryck could not leave her bed, so Bevill and Sylvia had gone in to
-her. There remained no more than the parting with that true friend and
-the last handshake with Van Ryck, himself true to the core.
-
-"Ah how can I leave you!" Sylvia sobbed, as now the two women were
-locked in each other's arms. "You--you whom I have always loved; you
-without whom I could have done nought for him. Oh! Radegonde, shall we
-never meet again?"
-
-"God He knows," the other answered reverently. "I pray so. Ah, Sylvia!
-Sweet Sylvia."
-
-But at last they forced themselves apart; at last Bevill stood face to
-face with her who, from almost the first moment they met at Louvain,
-had been staunch and firm to him--face to face for the last time,
-Sylvia standing back by the door open to the great porch. Then, ere he
-could find his voice, which, indeed, it seemed to him was impossible,
-he heard her saying even as her hand held his:
-
-"Farewell. If ever in happy days to come for you your memory should
-chance to wander back to that night in Louvain when first our
-knowledge of each other arose; to the woman who was to play some
-little part in your existence--for--a time, spare her a--a--one
-moment's thought. Think of her as--as one----" But now her voice
-failed her, too, and she was silent.
-
-Neither could Bevill speak yet, and still stood there holding her hand
-in his even as he observed the trembling of her lips, the tears
-standing in her soft blue, eyes--even as he heard the word "Bevill"
-murmured through those lips.
-
-But, also, he observed something else as his troubled glance fell now
-upon his wife. He saw Sylvia's own lips move though no sound issued
-from them; he saw some suggestion, some prompting in Sylvia's own
-clear, grey eyes; and, seeing, grasped what they conveyed. Bending
-therefore to her who stood before him, he parted the hair that grew
-low down upon her forehead; bending still lower, he kissed her
-once--even as a brother might have kissed a loved sister. "Farewell,
-Radegonde;" he whispered, "Farewell," and saw by one swift glance at
-Sylvia's face that he had comprehended her meaning.
-
-Yet never through the long life that was to be his did he know what
-Sylvia's womanly heart had told her, nor understand that which she
-understood.
-
-*    *    *    *    *    *    *
-
-Embosomed in the woods of Surrey there stands a house once white, now
-grey, on the face of which the lichen and the ivy picturesquely
-mingle. In front of it sweeps down a lawn to where a little river
-bubbles over the pebbles of its bed; round it are arbours and bosquets
-of quaint shape over which grows clematis many-hued--white, purple,
-flame-coloured. Round that lawn, too, grow trees that are ancient now,
-and that, when young, drew their existence from other lands than ours.
-Against the pilasters of the great porch, which gives entrance to a
-vast hall and supports a balcony on to which all the windows of the
-first floor open, trails a passion flower, old--perhaps, indeed,
-oft-times renewed in memory of him who planted the first one; of him
-who may have whispered as he did so: "'Twas by such flowers as these
-you were embowered, enshrined, on that night when first we met; so
-long as may be shall that flower grow against our home, the White
-House." For if from Holland, in those far-off days, some had wandered
-here who had ever gazed on a white house standing on the outskirts of
-Liege, they must have seen, and, seeing, recognised another house so
-like to it that its resemblance could be no fanciful one, but, in
-truth, a resemblance carefully studied and wrought.
-
-In the great hall whose vast stairs at the farther end curve up on
-either side, many pictures hang and tell of what the originals must
-have been in life. Bevill, first Lord Bracton, is there, mounted on a
-bay horse, his uniform that of the Cuirassiers, or 4th Horse, his
-ribbons and orders showing that he held general's rank. On one side of
-this picture the painter has placed in a vertical line the words,
-"Blenheim, Ramillies, Oudenarde, Malplaquet," to testify that he who
-looks down took part in those glorious victories.
-
-Yet if, as in truth, he does thus look down, either the limner's art,
-or the light cast at certain times from the great roof above, appears
-to make those eyes rest on one whose full-length portrait hangs by the
-side of his. On her! On his wife--some few years older in the picture
-than when first she learnt to love him and when, through rain and
-mire, she rushed as fast as might be to gain the help of Marlborough.
-A little older, yes; but not less fair and sweet. Stately as ever in
-her grace of matronhood; noble in her height, beautiful in feature,
-and with her clear, pure eyes undimmed, though in her rich brown hair
-some silver threads are seen. In each hand the woman holds the hand of
-a child.
-
-
-[Illustration: "Now the two were locked in each other's arms."]
-
-
-On Lord Bracton's left there is another portrait, the picture of a
-woman no longer young, her almost grey hair massed above her head, but
-her eyes clear and bright as when first they gazed on Bevill Bracton
-in Louvain, while over all her features there is a look of content. By
-her side stands a youth still in his teens, one so like this woman
-that none can doubt he is her son.
-
-Facing the entrance hangs a larger picture than all--
-that of a handsome man in scarlet and covered with orders and
-decorations; one whose tranquil features and soft lineaments bespeak
-calm self-reliance; confidence. On a medallion beneath this are the
-words: "John, first Duke of Marlborough and Marquess of Blandford,
-Prince of the Holy Roman Empire and Prince of Mindelheim in Suabia."
-
-Around the house are copses and thickets, and outside them the woods,
-in all of which have played five or six generations of children, some
-of them Bractons, some of them named De Violaine. Also, in the dead
-and gone days that Time has powdered for ever with its dust, these
-children have grown up and intermarried in the old church near by, the
-living of which has been held perpetually for over a hundred and fifty
-years by De Violaines, all of whom are descended from a French refugee
-officer who settled here. It must be, therefore--since that refugee
-would never have taken any but one woman for his wife--that, at last,
-Radegonde de Valorme was enabled to forget the sufferings of him who
-died at the galleys for his religion's sake, to reconcile herself to
-seeing Sylvia wedded to the Englishman who came once into her life and
-troubled her thoughts; that she was contented to eventually make happy
-the gallant soldier who had loved her so long.
-
-There is one little copse to which those children of different
-generations have always loved to resort, and, after playing, to sit
-there and talk of its associations with old days--a little copse of
-nut-trees and red may, in which they find the earliest white violets
-and where, they say, the robins always build their nests and the
-nightingales love to sit and sing on summer nights. Yet, as they tell
-their little stories to each other and weave not only fancies of the
-past, but, it may be, of the future as well, their eyes rest upon a
-great stone slab that lies along the ground embedded in grass and
-overgrown with moss--moss that, however, many tiny hands have often
-scraped and brushed away so that they might once more read the two
-words cut into that stone by some old graver of bygone days--the
-words, "La Rose."
-
-
-
-FOOTNOTES
-
-[Footnote 1: The pistole at this period was worth L3 6s. 6d.]
-
-[Footnote 2: Brantome, who lived shortly after Charles V.'s time, says
-all the other monarchs called him this because he never kept a treaty,
-and cheated everybody.]
-
-[Footnote 3: Now the 1st (Royal) Dragoons.]
-
-[Footnote 4: The Mousquetaires Noirs and Gris were thus described from
-the colour of their horses. They were the _corps d'elite_ of France.
-The one had been established by Louis XIV., the other by Mazarin.]
-
-
-
-
-THE END.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-End of Project Gutenberg's The Sword of Gideon, by John Bloundelle-Burton
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