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diff --git a/38910.txt b/38910.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6f01272 --- /dev/null +++ b/38910.txt @@ -0,0 +1,13794 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Abbess Of Vlaye, by Stanley J. Weyman + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Abbess Of Vlaye + +Author: Stanley J. Weyman + +Release Date: February 17, 2012 [EBook #38910] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ABBESS OF VLAYE *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by +Google Books (Harvard College Library) + + + + + + + + + + + +Transcriber's Notes: + + 1. Page scan source: + http://books.google.com/books?id=8tYMAAAAYAAJ + + 2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe] + + + + + + + THE ABBESS OF VLAYE + + + + + + + By STANLEY J. WEYMAN + + * * * + +THE HOUSE OF THE WOLF. A Romance. With Frontispiece and Vignette. +Crown 8vo, cloth, $1.25. + +THE STORY OF FRANCIS CLUDDE. A Romance. With four Illustrations. Crown +8vo, $1.25. + +A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE. Being the Memoirs of Gaston de Bonne, Sieur de +Marsac. With Frontispiece and Vignette. Crown 8vo, cloth, $1.25. + +UNDER THE RED ROBE. With twelve full-page Illustrations. Crown 8vo, +cloth, $1.25. + +MY LADY ROTHA. A Romance of the Thirty Years' War. With eight +Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth, $1.25. + +FROM THE MEMOIRS OF A MINISTER OF FRANCE. With thirty-six +Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth, $1.25. + +THE MAN IN BLACK. With twelve Illustrations. Crown 8vo, $1.00. + +SHREWSBURY. A Romance. With twenty-four Illustrations. Crown 8vo, +$1.50. + +THE RED COCKADE. A Novel. With forty-eight Illustrations by R. Caton +Woodville. Crown 8vo, $1.50. + +THE CASTLE INN. A Novel. With six full-page Illustrations by Walter +Appleton Clark. Crown 8vo, $1.50. + +SOPHIA. A Romance. With twelve full-page Illustrations. Crown 8vo, +$1.50. + +COUNT HANNIBAL. A Romance of the Court of France. With Frontispiece. +Crown 8vo $1.50. + +IN KINGS' BYWAYS. With Frontispiece. Crown 8vo, $1.50. + + * * * + + New York: Longmans, Green, and Co. + + + + + + +[Illustration: "HE HAD DISMOUNTED, AND HAD HIS HAT IN HIS HAND"] + [_Page_ 113] + + + + + + + THE ABBESS + OF VLAYE + + + + + BY + + STANLEY J. WEYMAN + + _Author of "Under the Red Robe," "A Gentleman of France," + "My Lady Rotha," "The Red Cockade," "Count + Hannibal," "The Castle Inn," etc_. + + + + + + LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. + 91 and 93 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK + LONDON AND BOMBAY + 1904 + + + + + + + Copyright, 1903, by + STANLEY J. WEYMAN. + + * * * + + Copyright, 1904, by + STANLEY J. WEYMAN. + + * * * + + _All rights reserved_. + + + + + + ROBERT DRUMMOND, PRINTER, NEW YORK. + + + + + + + TO + + HUGH STOWELL SCOTT, + + IN REMEMBRANCE OF LONG SUMMER DAYS SPENT WITH HIM + + AMID THE SCENES WHICH SUGGESTED IT, + + THIS STORY IS + + AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED BY HIS FRIEND. + + + + + + + CONTENTS. + + + CHAP. + + INTRODUCTION--A King in Council. + + I. Villeneuve-l'Abbesse. + + II. The Tower Chamber. + + III. Still Waters Troubled. + + IV. The Dilemma. + + V. The Captain of Vlaye. + + VI. In the Hay-field. + + VII. A Soldiers' Frolic. + + VIII. Father Angel. + + IX. Speedy Justice. + + X. Midnight Alarms. + + XI. The Chapel by the Ford. + + XII. The Peasants' Camp. + + XIII. Hostages. + + XIV. Saint and Sinner. + + XV. Fears. + + XVI. To Do or Not to Do? + + XVII. The Heart of Cain. + + XVIII. Two in the Mill. + + XIX. The Captain of Vlaye's Condition. + + XX. The Abbess Moves. + + XXI. The Castle Of Vlaye. + + XXII. A Night by the River. + + XXIII. The Bride's Dot. + + XXIV. Fors l'Amour. + + XXV. His Last Ride. + + + + + + + THE ABBESS OF VLAYE. + + + + + INTRODUCTION. + + A KING IN COUNCIL. + + +Monsieur des Ageaux was a man of whom his best friends could not say +that he shone, or tried to shine, in the pursuit of the fair sex. He +was of an age, something over thirty, when experience renders more +formidable the remaining charms of youth; and former conquests whet +the sword for new emprises. And the time in which he lived and +governed the province of Perigord for the King was a time in which the +favour of ladies, and the good things to be gained thereby, stood for +much, and morality for little. So that for the ambitious the path of +dalliance presented almost as many chances of advancement as the more +strenuous road of war. + +Yet des Ageaux, though he was an ambitious man and one whose appetite +success--and in his degree he had been very successful--had but +sharpened, showed no inclination to take that path, or to rise by +trifling. Nay, he turned from it; he shunned if he did not dislike the +other sex. Whether he doubted his powers--he was a taciturn, grave +man--or he had energy only for the one pursuit he loved, the +government of men, the thing was certain. Yet he was not unpopular +even at Court, the lax Court of Henry the Fourth. But he was known for +a thoughtful, dry man, older than his years and no favourite with +great ladies; of whom some dubbed him shy, and some a clown, and +all--a piece of furniture. + +None the less, where men were concerned, he passed for a man more +useful than most; or, for certain, seeing that he boasted no great +claims, and belonged to no great family, he had not been Governor of a +province. Governors of provinces in those days were of the highest; +cousins of the King, when these could be trusted, which was rare; +peers and Marshals of France, great Dukes with vast hereditary +possessions, old landed Vicomtes, and the like. Only at the tail of +the list came some half-dozen men whom discretion and service, or the +playfulness of fortune had--_mirabile dictum_--raised to office. And +at the tail of all came des Ageaux; for Perigord, his province, land +of the pie and the goose liver, was part of the King's demesne, the +King was his own Governor in it, and des Ageaux bore only the title of +"Lieutenant for the King in the country of Perigord." + +Yet was it a wonderful post for such a man, and many a personage, many +a lord well seen at Court, coveted it. All the same the burden was +heavy; a thing not to be dismissed in a moment. The King found him no +money, or little; no men, or few. Where greater Governors used their +own resources he had to use--economy. And to make matters worse the +man was just; it was part of his nature, it was part of his passion, +to be just. So where they taxed not legally only, but illegally, he +scrupled, he held his hand. And, therefore, though his dignity was +almost as high as office could make it, and his power in his own +country not small, no man who ever came to Court went with less +splendour in the streets of Paris, or with a smaller following. +Doubtless, as a result of this, a few despised him; a few even, making +common cause with the Court ladies, and being themselves semi-royal, +and above retort, flouted him as a thing negligible. + +But, on the whole, he passed, though dry and grave, for a man to be +envied, the ladies notwithstanding. And he held his own tolerably, and +his post handsomely until a certain day in the summer of 1595, when +word came to the young Governor to cross half France to meet the King +at Lyons; where, in the early part of that year, Henry the Fourth lay, +and was ill-content with a world which, on the surface, seemed to be +treating him well. + +But on the surface only. The long wars of religion, midway in which +the Massacre of Bartholomew stands up, like some drear gibbet landmark +in a waste, were, indeed, virtually over. Not only had Henry come to +the throne, but Paris, his capital, was his at last; had he not bought +it eighteen months before by that mass, that abjuration of Protestant +errors, of which the world has heard so much? And not Paris only. +Orleans and Bourges, and this good city of Lyons, and Rouen, all were +his now, and in their Notre-Dames or St.-Etiennes had sung their _Te +Deums_, and more or less heartily cried "God save the King!" At last, +after six years of fighting, of wild horse forays, that flamed across +the Northern corn-lands, after a thousand sleepless nights and as many +days of buying and bartering--at last the lover of Gabrielle, who was +also the most patient and astute of men, was King of France and of +Navarre, lord of all this pleasant realm. + +Or, not lord; only over-lord, as six times a day they made him know. +Nor even that, of all. For in Brittany a great noble still went his +own way. And in Provence a great city refused to surrender. And +north-eastwards Spain still clung to his border. Nevertheless it was +none of these things filled Henry, the King, with discontent. It was +at none of these things that he swore in his beard as he sulked at the +end of the long Council Table this June morning; while des Ageaux, +from his seat near the bottom of the board, watched his face. + +In truth Henry was discovering, that, having bought, he must pay; that +so great was the mortgage he had put on his kingdom, the profits +belonged to others. Overlord he was--lord, no; except perhaps in Lyons +where he lay, and where for that reason the Governor had to mind his +manners. But in smiling Provence to south of him? Not a whit. The Duke +of Epernon ruled the land of Roses, and would rule until the young +Duke of Guise, to whom His Majesty had given commission, put him out; +and then Guise would rule. In Dauphiny the same. In Languedoc, the +great middle province of the south, Montmorency, son to the old +Constable, was King in fact; in Guienne old Marshal Matignon. In +Angoumois--here Epernon again; so firmly fixed that he deigned only to +rule by quarterly letters from his distant home. True in Poitou was an +obedient Governor, but the house of Tremouille from their red castle +of Thouars outweighed his governorship. And in rocky Limousin the +Governor could keep neither the King's peace nor his own. + +So it was everywhere through the wide provinces of France; and Henry, +who loved his people, knew it, and sulkily fingered the papers that +told of it. Not that he had need of the papers. He knew before he cast +eye on them in what a welter of lawlessness and disorder, of private +feud and public poverty, thirty years of civil war had left his +kingdom. One province was in arms, torn asunder by a feud between two +great houses. Another laboured in the throes of a peasant rising, its +hills alight night after night with the flames of burning farmsteads. +A third was helpless in the grip of a gang of brigands, who held the +roads. A fourth was beset by disbanded soldiers. The long wars of +religion had dissolved all ties. Everywhere monks who had left their +abbeys and nuns who had left their convents swarmed on the roads, with +sturdy beggars, homeless peasants, broken gentry. Everywhere, beyond +the walls of the great cities, the law was paralysed, the great +committed outrage, the poor suffered wrong, the excesses of war +enured, and, in this time of fancied peace, took grimmer shape. + +He whom God had set over France, to rule it, knew these things and sat +hopeless, brooding over the papers; hampered on the one side by lack +of money, on the other by the grants of power that in evil days had +bought a nominal allegiance. He began to see that he had won only the +first bout of a match which must last him his life. Nor would it have +consoled him much to know that in the college of Navarre that day +played a little lad, just ten years old, whose frail white hand would +one day right these things with a vengeance. + +His people cried to him, and he longed to help them and could not. +From a thousand market-places, splayed wooden shelters, covering each +its quarter-acre of ground, their cry came up to him: "Give us peace, +give us law!" and he could not. No wonder that he brooded over the +papers, while the clerks looked askance at him, and the great lords +who had won what he had lost whispered or played tric-trac at the +board. Those who sat lower, and among these M. des Ageaux, were less +at their ease. They wondered where the storm would break, and feared +each for his own head. + +Presently M. de Joyeuse, one of the great nobles, precipitated the +outburst. "You have heard," said he, twiddling a pen between his +delicate fingers, "what they call these peasants who are ravaging +Poitou, sire?" + +Before the King could answer the Governor of Poitou protested from his +place lower down the table. "They are none of mine," he said. "It is +in the Limousin next door to me that they are at work. I wash my hands +of them!" + +"They are as bad on your side as on mine!" he of the barren Limousin +retorted. + +"They started with you!" Poitou rejoined. "Who kindles a fire should +put it out." + +The King raised his hand for silence. "No matter who is responsible, +the fact remains!" he said. + +"But you have not heard the jest, sire," Joyeuse struck in. His thin +handsome face, pale with excess, belied eyes thoughtful and dreamy, +eyes that saw visions. He had been a King's favourite, he had spent +years in a convent, he had come forth again, now he was head of the +great Joyeuse house, lord of a third of Languedoc. By turns "Father +Angel"--for he had been a noted preacher--and Monseigneur, there were +those who predicted that he would some day return to the cloister and +die in his hood. "They call them the Tards-Avises," he continued, +"because they were foolish enough to rise when the war was over." + +"God pity them!" the King said. + +"_Morbleu!_ Your Majesty is pitiful of a sudden!" The speaker was the +Constable de Montmorency. He was a stout, gruff, choleric man, born, +as the Montmorencys were, a generation too late. + +"I pity them!" the King answered a trifle sharply. "But you"--he spoke +to the table--"neither pity them nor put them down." + +"You are speaking, sire," one asked, "of the Crocans?" It was so; from +the name of a village in their midst, they called these revolted +peasants of the Limousin of whom more will be said. + +"Yes." + +"They are not in my government," the speaker replied. "Nor in mine!" + +"Nor mine!" And so all, except the Governor of the Limousin and the +Governor of Poitou, who sat sulkily silent. + +Another of the great ones, Marshal Matignon, nodded approval. "Let +every man shoe his own ass," he said, pursing up his lips. He was a +white-haired, red-faced, apoplectic man of sixty, who thought that in +persuading the Estates of Bordeaux to acknowledge Henry he had earned +the right to go his own way. "Otherwise we shall jostle one another," +he continued, "and be at blows before we know it, sire! They are in +the Limousin; let the Governor put them down. It is his business and +no other's." + +"Except mine," the King replied, with a frown of displeasure. "And if +he cannot, what then?" + +"Let him make way, sire, for one who can," the Constable answered +readily. "Your Majesty will not have far to look for him," he +continued in a playful tone. "My nephew, for instance, would like a +government." + +"A truce to jesting," Henry said. "The trouble began, it is true, +in the Limousin, but it has spread into Poitou and into the +Angoumois"--he looked at Epernon's agent, for the Duke of Epernon was +so great a man he had not come himself. "Gentlemen," the King +continued, sitting back in his great chair, "can you not come to some +agreement? Can you not mass what force you have, and deal with them +shortly but mercifully? The longer the fire burns, the more trouble +will it be to extinguish it, and the greater the suffering." + +"Why not let it burn out, sire?" Epernon's agent muttered with thinly +veiled impudence. "It will then burn the more rubbish, with your +Majesty's leave!" + +But, the words said, he quailed. For, under his aquiline nose, the +King's mustaches curled with rage. There were some with whom he must +bear, lords who had brought him rich cities, wide provinces; and +others whose deeds won them licence. But this man? "There spoke the +hireling!" he cried. And the stroke went home, for the man was the +only one at the table who had no government of his own. "I will spare +your attendance, sir," the King continued, with a scornful gesture. +"M. de Guise will answer such questions as arise on your master's late +government--of Provence. And for his other government----" + +"I represent him there also," the man muttered sulkily. + +"Then you can represent his absence," Henry retorted with quick wit, +"since he is never there! I need you not. Go, sir, and see that within +three hours you are without the walls of Lyons!" + +The man rose, divided between fear of the King and fear of the master +to whom he must return. He paused an instant, then went down the room +slowly, and went out. + +"Now, gentlemen," Henry continued, with hard looks, "understand. You +may shoe each his own ass, but you must shoe mine also. There must be +an end put to this peasant rising. Who will undertake it?" + +"The man who should undertake it," Matignon answered, "for the ass is +of his providing, is the gentleman who has gone out." + +"He is naught!" + +"He is for much in this." + +"How? Sometimes," the King continued irritably, "I think the men are +shod, and the asses come to my Council Table!" + +This was a stroke of wit on a level with the Constable's discernment; +he laughed loudly. "Nevertheless," he said, "Matignon's right, sire. +That man's master is for a good deal in this. If he had kept order his +neighbour's house would not be on fire." + +For the first time M. des Ageaux ventured a word from the lower end of +the table. "Vlaye!" he muttered. + +The Constable leaned forward to see who spoke. "Ay, you've hit on it, +my lad, whoever you are. Vlaye it is!" And he looked at Matignon, who +nodded his adhesion. + +Henry frowned. "I am coming to the matter of Vlaye," he said. + +"It is all one, sire," Matignon replied, his eyes half shut. He +wheezed a little in his speech. + +"How?" + +The Constable explained. He leant forward and prodded the table with a +short, stout finger--not overclean according to the ideas of a later +time. "Angoumois is there," he said. "See, your Majesty. And Poitou is +here"--with a second prod an inch from the first. "And the Limousin is +here! And Perigord is there! And see, your Majesty, where their skirts +all meet in this corner--or as good as meet--is Vlaye! Name of God, a +strong place, that!" He turned for assent to old Matignon, who nodded +silently. + +"And you mean to say that Vlaye----" + +"Has been over heavy handed, your Majesty. And the clowns, beginning +to find the thing beyond a joke, began by hanging three poor devils of +toll gatherers, and the thing started. And what is on everybody's +frontier is nobody's business." + +"Except mine," the King muttered drily. "And Vlaye is Epernon's man?" + +"That is it, sire," the Constable answered. "Epernon put him in the +castle six years back for standing by him when the Angouleme people +rose on him. But the man is no Vlaye, you understand. M. de Vlaye was +in that business and died of his wounds. He had no near heirs, and the +man whom Epernon put in took the lordship as well as the castle, the +name and all belonging to it. They call him the Captain of Vlaye in +those parts." + +The King looked his astonishment. + +"Oh, I could give you twenty cases!" the Constable continued, +shrugging his shoulders. "What do you expect, sire, in such times as +these?" + +"Ventre St. Gris!" Henry swore. "And not content with what he has got, +he robs the poor?" + +"And the rich, too," Joyeuse murmured with a grin, "when he gets them +into his net!" + +Henry looked sternly from one to another. "But what do you while this +goes on?" he said. "For shame! You, Constable? You, Matignon?" He +turned from one to the other. + +Matignon laughed wheezily. "Make me Governor in Epernon's place, +sire," he said, "and I will account for him. But double work and +single pay? No, no!" + +The Constable laughed as at a great joke. "I say the same, sire," he +said. "While Epernon has the Angoumois it is his affair." + +The King looked stormily at the Governor of Poitou. But Poitou shook +his head. "It is not in my government," he said moodily. "I cannot +afford, sire, to get a hornets' nest about my ears for nothing." + +He of the Limousin fidgeted. "I say the same, sire," he muttered. +"Vlaye has three hundred spears. It would need an army to reduce him. +And I have neither men nor money for the task." + +"There you have, sire," the delicate-faced Joyeuse cried gaily, "three +hundred and one good reasons why the Limousin leaves the man alone. +For the matter of that"--he tried to spin his pen like a top--"there +is a government as deeply concerned in this as any that has been +named." + +"Which?" Henry asked. He was losing patience. That which was so much +to him was nothing to these. + +"Perigord," Joyeuse answered with a bow. And at that several laughed +softly--but not the King. He was himself, as has been said, Governor +of Perigord. + +Here at last, however, was one on whom he could vent his displeasure; +and he would vent it! "Stand up, des Ageaux!" he cried harshly. And he +scowled as des Ageaux, who was somewhat like him in feature, rose from +his seat. "What have you to say, man?" Henry cried. "For yourself and +for me! Speak, sir!" But before des Ageaux could answer, the King +broke out anew--with abuse, with reproaches, giving his passion rein; +while the great Governors listened and licked their lips, or winked at +one another, when the King hit them a side blow. Presently, when des +Ageaux would have defended himself, alleging that he was no deeper in +fault than others, + +"Ventre St. Gris! No words, sir!" Henry retorted. "I find kings enough +here, I want not you in the number! I made not you that I might have +your nobility cast in my teeth! You are not of the blood royal, nor +even," leaning a little on the word, "Joyeuse or Epernon! Man, I made +you! And not for show, I have enough of that--but to be of use and +service, for common needs and not for parade--like the gentleman," +bitterly, "who deigns to represent me in the Limousin, or he who is so +good as to sign papers for me in Poitou! Man alive, it might be +thought you were peer and marshal, from your way of idling here, while +robbers ride your marches, and my peasants are driven to revolt. Go +to, do you think you are one of these?" He indicated by a gesture the +great lords who sat nearest him. "Do you think that because I made +you, I cannot unmake you?" + +The man on whom the storm had fallen bore it not ignobly. It has been +said that he featured Henry himself, being prominent of nose, with a +grave face, a brown beard, close-cropped, and a forehead high and +severe. Only in his eyes shone, and that rarely, a gleam of humour. +Now the sweat stood on his brow as he listened--they were cruel blows, +the position a cruel one. Nevertheless, when the King paused, and he +had room to answer, his voice was steady. + +"I claim, sire," he said, "no immunity. Neither that, nor aught but +the right of a soldier, who has fought for France----" + +"And gallantly!" struck in one, who had not yet spoken--Lesdiguieres, +the Huguenot, the famous Governor of Dauphiny. He turned to the King. +"I vouch for it, sire," he continued. "And M. de Joyeuse, who has the +better right, will vouch for it, too." + +But Joyeuse, who was sulkily prodding the table with his spoiled pen, +neither lifted his eyes nor gave heed. He was bitterly offended by the +junction of his name with that of Epernon, who, great and powerful as +he was, had had a notary for his father. He was silent. + +Des Ageaux, who had looked at him as hoping something, lifted his +eyes. "Your Majesty will do me the justice to remember," he said, +"that I had your order to have a special care of my province; and to +mass what force I could in Perigueux. Few men as I have----" + +"You build them up within walls!" Henry retorted. + +"But if I lost Perigueux----" + +The King snarled. + +"Or aught happened there?" + +"You would lose your head!" Henry returned. He was thoroughly out of +temper. "By the Lord," he continued, "have I no man in my service? +Must I take this fellow of Vlaye into hire because I have no honest +man with the courage of a mouse! You call yourself Lieutenant of +Perigord, and this happens on your border. I have a mind to break you, +sir!" + +Henry seldom let his anger have vent; and the man who stood before him +knew his danger. From a poor gentleman of Brittany with something of +pedigree but little of estate, he had risen to this post which eight +out of ten at that table grudged him. He saw it slipping away; nay, +falling from him--falling! A moment might decide his fate. + +In the pinch his eyes sought Joyeuse, and the appeal in them was not +to be mistaken. But the elegant sulked, and would not see. It was +clear that, for him, des Ageaux might sink. For himself, the +Lieutenant doubted if words would help him, and they might aggravate +the King's temper. He was bravely silent. + +It was Lesdiguieres, the Huguenot, who came to the rescue. "Your +Majesty is a little hard on M. des Ageaux," he said. And the King's +lieutenant in Perigord knew why men loved the King's Governor in +Dauphiny. + +"In his place," Henry answered wrathfully, "I would pull down Vlaye if +I did it with my teeth. It is easy for you, my friend, to talk," he +continued, addressing the Huguenot leader. "They are not your peasants +whom this rogue of a Vlaye presses, nor your hamlets he burns. I have +it all here--here!" he repeated, his eyes kindling as he slapped with +his open hand one of the papers before him, "and the things he has +done make my blood boil! I swear if I were not King I would turn +Crocan myself! But these things are little thought of by others. +M. d'Epernon supports this man, and"--with a sudden glance at +Matignon--"the Governor of Guienne makes use of his horses when he +travels to see the King." + +Matignon laughed something shamefacedly. "Well, sire, the horses have +done no harm," he said. "Nor he in my government. He knows better. And +things are upside down thereabouts." + +"It is for us to right them!" Henry retorted. And then to des Ageaux, +but with less temper. "Now, sir, I lay my order on you! I give you six +weeks to rid me of this man, Vlaye. Fail, and I put in your place a +man who will do it. You understand, Lieutenant? Then do not fail. By +the Lord, I know not where I shall be bearded next!" + +He turned then, but still muttering angrily, to other business. +Matignon and the Constable were not concerned in this; and as soon as +the King's shoulder was towards them they winked at one another. "Your +nephew will not have long to wait," Matignon whispered, "if a +lieutenancy will suit him." + +"'Twould be a fair start," the Constable answered. "But a watched +pot--you know the saying." + +"This pot will boil at the end of six weeks," Matignon rejoined with a +fat chuckle. "Chut, man, with his wage a year in arrear, and naught +behind his wage, where is he to find another fifty men, let alone +three or four hundred? He will need five and twenty score for this, +and he dare not move a man!" + +"He might squeeze his country?" the Constable objected. + +"Pooh! He is a fool of the new school! He will go back to his cabbages +before he will do that! I tell you," he continued, laying his hand on +the other's knee, "he has got Perigord, the main part of it, into +order! Ay, into order! And if he don't go, we shall have to mend our +manners," with a grin, "and get our governments into order, too!" + +"By the Lord, there is no finger wags in my country unless I will it!" +the Constable rejoined with some tartness. "Since he"--he indicated +Joyeuse--"came over to us, at any rate! Don't think it! But there +it is. If there were no whifflesnaffles here and there, and no +blood-letting, it would not suit us very well, would it? You don't +want to go to cabbage planting, Marshal, more than I do?" + +The Marshal smiled. + + + * * * * * + + +Late that night the young Duke of Joyeuse, leaving his people at the +end of the street, went by himself to the house in which des Ageaux +lodged in Lyons. A woman answered his summons, and not knowing the +young grandee--for he was cloaked to the nose--fetched the Bat, an +old, lean, lank-visaged captain who played squire of the body to des +Ageaux. The Bat knew the Duke in spite of his cloak; perhaps he had +him for a certain reason in his mind. And he bowed his long, stiff +back before him, and would have fetched lights; yet with a glum face. +But the Duke answered him shortly that he wanted no more than a word +with his master, and would say it there. + +On which, "You are too late, my lord," the Bat rejoined; and Joyeuse +saw that with all his politeness he was as gloomy as his name. "He +left Lyons this afternoon." + +"With what attendance?" the Duke asked in great surprise. For he had +not heard of it. + +"Alone, my lord Duke." + +"Does he return to-morrow?" + +"I know not." + +"But you know something!" the young noble retorted with more of +vexation than the circumstances seemed to justify. + +"My lord, nothing," the Bat answered, "save that we are ordered to +follow him to-morrow by way of Clermont." + +"To his province?" + +"Even so, my lord." + +Joyeuse struck his booted foot against the pavement, and the sombre +Bat, whose ears--some said he got his name from them--were almost as +long as his legs, caught the genial chink of gold crowns. It was such +music as he seldom heard, for he had a vision of a heavy bag of them; +and his eyes glistened. + +But the chink was all he had of them. Joyeuse turned away, and with a +stifled sigh and a shrug went back to the play-table at the +Archbishop's palace. Sinning and repenting were the two occupations in +which he had spent one half of his short life; and if there was a +thing which he did with greater ardour than the first--it was the +second. + + + + + CHAPTER I. + + VILLENEUVE-L'ABBESSE. + + +The horse looked piteously at the man. Blood oozed from its broken +knees and its legs quivered under it. The man holding his scratched +and abraded hand to his mouth returned the beast's look, at first with +promise of punishment, but by and by less unkindly. He was a just man, +and he saw that the fault was his; since it was he who, after crossing +the ridge, had urged the horse out of the path that he might be spared +some part of the weary descent. Out of the path, and cunningly hidden +by a tuft of rough grass, a rabbit-hole had lain in wait. + +He contented himself with a word of disgust, therefore, chucked the +rein impatiently--since justice has its limits--and began to lead the +horse down the descent, which a short sward rendered slippery. But he +had not gone many paces before he halted. The horse's painful limp and +the sweat that broke out on its shoulders indicated that two broken +knees were not the worst of the damage. The man let the rein go, +resigned himself to the position, and, shrugging his shoulders, +scanned the scene before him. + +The accident had happened on the south side of the long swell of chalk +hills which the traveller had been mounting for an hour past; and +scarcely a stone's-throw below the ruined wind-mill that had been his +landmark for leagues. To right and left of him, under a pale-blue sky, +the breezy, open down, carpeted with wild thyme and vetches, and alive +with the hum of bees, stretched in long soft undulations, marred by no +sign of man save a second and a third wind-mill ranged in line on the +highest breasts. Below him the slope of sward and fern, broken here by +a solitary blackthorn, there by a clump of whin and briars, swept +gently down to a shallow wide valley--almost a plain--green and +thickly wooded, beyond which the landscape rose again slowly and +imperceptibly into uplands. Through this wide valley flowed from left +to right a silvery river, its meandering course marked by the lighter +foliage of willows and poplars; and immediately below the traveller a +cluster of roofless hovels on the bank seemed to mark a ford. + +On all the hill about him, on the slopes of thyme, and heather, and +yellow gorse, the low sun was shining--from his right, and from a +little behind him, so that his shadow stretched far across the sward. +But in the valley about the river and the ford evening was beginning +to fall, grey, peaceful, silent. For a time his eyes roved hither and +thither, seeking a halting-place of more promise than the ruined cots; +and at length they found what they sought. He marked, rising from a +mass of trees a little beyond the ford, a thin curl of smoke, so +light, so grey, as to be undiscoverable by any but the sharpest +eyes--but his were of the sharpest. The outline of the woods at the +same point indicated a clearing within a wide loop of the river; and +putting the one with the other, des Ageaux--for it was he--came to a +fair certainty that a house of some magnitude lay hidden there. + +At any rate he saw no better chance of shelter. It was that of the +ruined hovels and the roadside, and taking the rein once more, he led +the horse down the hill, and in the first dusk of the evening crossed +the pale clear water on stepping-stones. He suffered the horse to +stand awhile in the stream and drink and cool its legs amid the dark, +waving masses of weed. Then he urged it up the bank, and led it along +the track, that was fast growing dim, and grey, and lonesome. + +The horse moved painfully, knuckling over at every step. Yet night had +not quite fallen when the traveller, plodding along beside it, saw two +stone pillars standing gaunt and phantom-like on the left of the path. +Each bore aloft a carved escutcheon, and in that weird half-light and +with a backing of dark forest trees the two might have been taken for +ghosts. Their purpose, however, was plain, for they flanked the +opening, at right angles to his path, of a rough road, at the end of +which, at a distance of some ten score paces from the pillars, +appeared an open gateway framed in a dim wall. No more than that, for +above was the pale sky, and on either hand the black line of trees +hedged the narrow picture. + +The traveller peered awhile at the escutcheons. But gathering darkness +and the lichens which covered the stone foiled him, and he was little +the wiser when he turned down the avenue. When he had traversed a half +of its length the trees fell back on either hand, and revealed the +sullen length of a courtyard wall, and rising within it, a little on +his right, a dark mass of building, compact in the main of two round +towers, of the date of Philip Augustus, with some additions of more +modern times. The effect of the pile, viewed in that half-light, was +gloomy if not forbidding; but the open gateway, the sled-marks that +led to it, and the wisps of hay which strewed the road, no less than +the broken yoke that hung in the old elm beside the entrance--all +these, which the Lieutenant's eyes were quick to discern, seemed to +offer a more homely and more simple welcome. + +A silent welcome, nevertheless, borne on the scent of new-mown, +half-gathered hay; a scent which des Ageaux was destined to associate +ever after with this beginning of an episode, and with his entrance in +the gloaming, amid quiet things. Slowly he passed under the gateway, +leading the halting horse. Fallen hay, swept from the cart by the brow +of the arch, deadened his footfalls, and before he was discovered he +was able to appreciate the enclosure, half courtyard, half fold-yard, +sloping downward from the house and shut in on the other sides by a +tile-roofed wall. At the lower end on his left were stalls, and sheds, +and stables, and a vague, mysterious huddle of ploughs and gear, and +feeding beasts, and farm refuse. Between this mass--to which the night +began to lend strange forms--and the great, towered house which loomed +black against the sky, lay the slope of the court, broken midway by +the walled marge of a swell something Italian in fashion, and speaking +of more prosperous days. On this there sat, as the traveller saw, two +figures. + +And then one only. For as he looked, uncertain whether to betake +himself first to the stables of the house, one of the two figures +sprang from the wall-edge, and came bounding to him with hands +upraised, flying skirts, a sharp cry of warning. + +"Oh, take care, Charles!" it cried. "Go back before M. le Vicomte +comes!" + +Then, at six paces from him, she knew him for a stranger, and the last +word fell scarcely breathed from her lips; while he, knowing her for a +girl, and young by her voice, uncovered. "I seek only a night's +shelter," he said stiffly. "Pardon me, mademoiselle, the alarm I fear +I have caused you. My horse slipped on the hill, and is unable to +travel farther." + +She stood staring at him in astonishment, and until her companion at +the well came forward made no reply. Something in the movements of +this second figure as it crossed the court struck the eye as abnormal, +but it was only when it came quite close that the stranger discovered +that the lad before him was slightly hump-backed. + +"You have met with a mischance," the youth said with awkward +diffidence. + +"Yes." + +"Whatever the cause, you are welcome. Go, Bonne," the young man +continued, addressing the girl, "it is better you went--and tell my +father that a gentleman is here craving shelter. When I have stabled +his horse I will bring him in. This way, if you please!" the lad +continued, turning to lead the way to the stables, but casting from +moment to moment timid looks at his guest. "The place is rough, but +such as it is, it is at your service. Have you ridden far to-day, if +it please you?" + +"From Rochechouart." + +"It is well we had not closed the gates," the youth answered shyly; +"we close them an hour after sunset by rule. But to-day the men have +been making hay, and we sup late." + +The stranger expressed his obligation, and, following his guide, led +his horse through one of the doors of a long range of stabling built +against the western wall of the courtyard. Within all was dark, and he +waited while his companion fetched a lanthorn. The light, when it +came, disclosed a sad show of empty mangers, broken racks, and roof +beams hung with cobwebs. Rain and sunshine, it was evident, entered +through more holes than one, and round the men's heads a couple of +bats, startled by the lanthorn-light, flitted noiselessly to and fro. + +At the farther end of the place, the roof above three or four stalls +showed signs of recent repair; and here the young man invited his +guest to place his beast. + +"But I shall be turning out your horses," the stranger objected. + +The youth laughed a little awry. "There's but my father's gelding," he +said, "and old Panza the pony. And they are in the ox-stable where +they have company. This," he added, pointing to the roof, "was made +good for my sister the Abbess's horses." + +The guest nodded, and, after examining his beast's injuries, bathed +its knees with fresh water; then producing a bandage from his +saddle-bag he soaked it in the water and skilfully wound it round the +strained fetlock. The lad held the lanthorn, envy, mingled with +admiration, growing in his eyes as he watched the other's skilled +hands and method. + +"You are well used to horses?" he said. + +"Tolerably," des Ageaux answered, looking up. "Are not you?" For in +those days it was an essential part of a gentleman's education. + +The lad sighed. "Not to horses of this sort," he said, shrugging his +shoulders. And des Ageaux took note of the sigh and the words, but +said nothing. Instead he removed his sword and pistols from his +saddle, and would have taken up his bags also, but the young man +interposed and took possession of them. A moment and the two were +crossing the darkened courtyard. The light of the lanthorn made it +difficult to see aught beyond the circle of its rays, but the stranger +noticed that the chateau consisted half of a steep-roofed house, and +half of the two round towers he had seen; house and towers standing in +one long line. Two rickety wooden bridges led across a moat to two +doors, the one set in the inner of the two towers--probably this was +the ancient entrance--the other in the more modern part. + +On the bridge leading to the latter two serving-men with lights were +awaiting them. The nearer domestic advanced, bowing. "M. le Vicomte +will descend if"--and then, after a pause, speaking more stiffly, "M. +le Vicomte has not yet heard whom he has the honour of entertaining." + +"I have no pretensions to put him to the trouble of descending," the +traveller answered politely. "Say if you please that a gentleman of +Brittany seeks shelter for the night, and would fain pay his respects +to M. le Vicomte at his convenience." + +The servant bowed, and turning with ceremony, led the way into a bare, +dimly-lit hall open to its steep oaken roof, and not measurably more +comfortable or less draughty than the stable. Here and there dusty +blazonings looked down out of the darkness, or rusty weapons left +solitary in racks too large for them gave back gleams of light. In the +middle of the stone floor a trestle table such as might have borne the +weight of huge sirloins and great bustards, and feasted two score +men-at-arms in the days of the great Francis, supported a litter of +shabby odds and ends; old black-jacks jostling riding-spurs, and a +leaping-pole lying hard by a drenching-horn. An open door on the tower +side of the hall presented the one point of warmth in the apartment, +for through it entered a stream of ruddy light and an odour that +announced where the kitchen lay. + +But if this were the dining-hall? If the guest felt alarm on this +point he was soon reassured. The servant conducted him up a short +flight of six steps which rose in one corner. The hall, in truth, huge +as it seemed in its dreary emptiness, was but one half of the original +hall. The leftward half had been partitioned off and converted into +two storeys--the lower story raised a little from the ground for the +sake of dryness--of more modern chambers. More modern; but if that +into which the guest was ushered, a square room not unhandsome in its +proportions, stood for sample, scarcely more cheerful. The hangings on +the walls were of old Sarazinois, but worn and faded to the colour of +dust. Carpets of leather covered the floor, but they were in holes and +of a like hue; while the square stools clad in velvet and gilt-nailed, +which stood against the walls, were threadbare of stuff and tarnished +of nails. In winter, warmed by the ruddy blaze of a generous fire, +and well sconced, and filled with pleasant company seated about a +well-spread board, the room might have passed muster and even conduced +to ease. But as the dusky frame of a table, lighted by four poor +candles--that strove in vain with the vast obscurity--and set with no +great, store of provision, it wore an air of meagreness not a whit +removed from poverty. + +The man who stood beside the table in the light of the candles, and +formed the life of the picture, blended well with the furnishings. He +was tall and thin, with stooping shoulders and a high-nosed face, that +in youth had been masterful and now was peevish and weary. He wore a +sword and much faded lace, and on the appearance of his guest moved +forward a pace and halted, with the precision and stiffness of +clockwork. "I have the honour," he began, "to welcome, I believe----" + +"A gentleman of Brittany," des Ageaux answered, bowing low. It by no +means suited his plans to be recognised. "And one, M. le Vicomte, who +respectfully craves a night's hospitality." + +"Which the chateau of Villeneuve-l'Abbesse," the Vicomte replied with +grandeur, "has often granted to the greatest, nor"--he waved his hand +with formal grace--"ever refused to the meanest. They have attended, I +trust," he continued with the air of one who, at the head of a great +household, knows, none the less, how to think for his guests, "to your +people, sir?" + +"Alas, M. le Vicomte," des Ageaux answered, a faint twinkle in his +eyes belying the humility of his tone, "I have none; I am travelling +alone." + +"Alone?" The Vicomte repeated the word in a tone of wonder. "You have +no servants with you--at all?" + +"Alas--no." + +"Is it possible?" + +Des Ageaux shrugged his shoulders, and spread out his hands. "In these +days, M. le Vicomte, yes." + +The Vicomte seemed by the droop of his shoulders to admit the plea; +perhaps because the other's eyes strayed involuntarily to the shabby +furniture. He shook his head gloomily. "Since Coutras----" he began, +and then, considering that he was unbending too soon, he broke off. +"You met with some accident, I believe, sir?" he said. "But first, I +did not catch your name?" + +"Des Voeux," the Lieutenant answered, adopting on the spur of the +moment one somewhat like his own. "My horse fell and cut its knees on +the hill about a mile beyond the ford. I much fear it has also +strained a fetlock." + +"It will not be fit to travel to-morrow, I doubt?" + +The guest spread out his hands, intimating that time and the morrow +must take care of themselves; or that it was no use to fight against +fate. + +"I must lend you something from the stables, then," the Vicomte +answered; as if at least a score of horses stood at rack and manger in +his stalls. "But I am forgetting your own needs, sir. Circumstances +have thrown my household out of gear, and we sup late tonight. But we +shall not need to wait long." + +He had barely spoken when the two serving-men who had met the +Lieutenant on the bridge entered, one behind the other, bearing with +some pomp of circumstance a couple of dishes. They set these on the +board, and withdrawing--not without leaving behind them a pleasant +scent of new-mown hay--returned quickly bearing two more. Then falling +back they announced by the mouth of the least meagre that my lord was +served. + +The meal which they announced, though home-grown and of the plainest, +was sufficient, and des Ageaux, on the Vicomte's invitation, took his +seat upon a stool at a nicely regulated distance below his host. As he +did so the girl he had seen in the courtyard glided in by a side door +and silently took her seat on the farther side of the table. +Apparently the Vicomte thought his guest below the honour of an +introduction, for he said nothing. And the girl only acknowledged the +Lieutenant's respectful salutation by a bow. + +The four candles shed a feeble light on the table, and left the +greater part of the room in darkness. Des Ageaux could not see the +girl well, and he got little more than an impression of a figure +moderately tall and somewhat plump, and of a gentle, downcast face. +Form and face owned, certainly, the charm of youth and freshness. But +to eyes versed in the brilliance of a Court and the magnificence of +_grandes dames_ they lacked the more striking characteristics of +beauty. + +He gave her a thought, however, pondering while he gave ear to the +Vicomte's querulous condescensions how so gentle a creature--for her +gentleness and placidity struck him--came of so stiff and peevish a +father. But that was all. Or it might have been all if as the thought +passed through his mind his host had not abruptly changed the +conversation and disclosed another side of his character. + +"Where is Roger?" he asked, addressing the girl with sharpness. + +"I do not know, sir," she murmured. + +A retort seemed hovering on the Vicomte's lips, when the youth who had +taken the guest to the stable, and had stayed without, perhaps to make +some change in his rustic clothes, entered and slid timidly into his +place beside his sister. He hoped, probably, to pass unseen, but the +Vicomte, his great high nose twitching, fixed him with his eyes and +pointed inexorably at him, with a spoon held delicately between thumb +and finger. "You would not think," he said with grim abruptness, "that +that--that, M. des Voeux, was son of mine?" + +Des Ageaux started. "I fear," he said hastily, "that it was I, sir, +who made him late. He was good enough to receive me." + +"I can only assure you," the Vicomte replied with cruel wit, "that +whoever made him late, it was not I who made him--as he is! The +Villeneuves, till his day, I'd have you know, sir, have been straight +and tall, and men of their hands, as ready with a blow as a word! Men +to make their way in the world. But you see him! You see him! Can +you," he continued, his eyes half-closed, dwelling on the lad, whose +suffering was evident, "at Court? Or courting? Or stepping a +_pavanne?_ Or----" + +"Father!" + +The word burst from the girl's lips, drawn from her by sheer pain. The +Vicomte turned to her with icy courtesy. "You spoke, I think?" he said +in a tone which rebuked her for the freedom on which she had ventured. +"Just so. I was forgetting. We live so quietly here, we use so little +ceremony with one another, that even I forget at times that family +matters are not interesting to a stranger. Were my elder daughter +here, M. des--ah, des Voeux, yes--my daughter the Abbess, who knows +the world, and has some tincture of manners, and is not taken commonly +for a waiting-woman, she would be able to entertain you better. But +you see what we are. For," with a smirk, "it were rude not to include +myself with my family." + +No wonder, the guest thought, as he listened, full of pity--no wonder +the lad had spoken timidly and shyly, if this were the daily treatment +he received! If poverty, working on pride, had brought the last of a +great family to this--to repaying on the innocents who shared his +decay the slings and arrows of unkind fortune! The girl's exclamation, +wrung from her by her brother's suffering, had gone to the +Lieutenant's heart, though that heart was not of the softest. He would +have given something to silence the bitter old tyrant. But experience +told him that he might make matters worse. He was no knight-errant, no +rescuer of dames; and, after all, the Vicomte was their father. So +while he hesitated, seeking in vain a safe subject, the sharp tongue +was at work again. + +"I would like you to see my elder daughter," the Vicomte resumed with +treacherous blandness. "She has neither a ploughboy's figure, nor," +slowly, "a dairymaid's speech. Her manners are quite like those of the +world. She might go anywhere, even to Court, where she has been, +without rendering herself the subject of ridicule and contempt. It is +truly unfortunate for us"--with a bow--"that you cannot see her." + +"She is not at home?" the Lieutenant said for the sake of saying +something. He was full of pity for the girl whose face, now red, now +pale, betrayed how she suffered under the discipline. + +"She does not live at home," the Vicomte answered. And then--with +curious inconsistency he now hid and now declared his poverty--"We +have not much left of which we can be proud," he continued, "since the +battle of Coutras seven years back took from the late King's friends +all they had. But the Abbey of Vlaye is still our appanage. My elder +daughter is the Abbess." + +"It lies, I think, near Vlaye?" + +"Yes, some half-league from Vlaye and three leagues from here. You +have heard of Vlaye, then, Monsieur--Monsieur des Voeux?" + +"Without doubt, M. le Vicomte." + +"Indeed! In what way, may I ask?" There was a faint tinge of suspicion +in his tone. + +"At Rochechouart I was told that the roads in that direction were not +over safe." + +The Vicomte laughed in his sardonic fashion. "They begin to cry out, +do they?" he said. "The fat burgesses who fleece us? Not very safe, +ha, ha! The roads! Not so safe as their back-shops where they lend to +us at cent per cent!"--with bitterness. "It is well that there is some +one to fleece them in their turn!" + +"They told me as much as that," des Ageaux replied with gravity. "So +much, indeed, that I was surprised to find your gates still open! They +gave me to understand that no man slept without a guard within four +leagues of Vlaye." + +"They told you that, did they?" the Vicomte answered. And he chuckled, +well satisfied. It pleased him to think that if he and his could no +longer keep Jacques Bonhomme in order, there were others who could. +"They told you not far from the truth. A little later, and you had +been barred out even here. Not that I fear the Captain of Vlaye. Hawks +pike not out hawks' eyes," with a lifting of the head, and an odd show +of arrogance. "We are good friends, M. de Vlaye and I." + +"Still you bar your gates, soon or late?" the Lieutenant replied with +a smile. + +A shadow fell across the Vicomte's face. "Not against him," he said +shortly. + +"No, of course not," des Voeux replied. "I had forgotten. You have the +Crocans also at no great distance. I was forgetting them." + +The sudden rigidity of his younger listeners, and the silence which +fell on all, warned him, as soon as he had spoken, that he had +said something amiss. Nor was the silence all. When his host next +spoke--after an interval--it was with a passion as far removed from +the cynical rudeness to which he had treated his children as are the +poles apart. "That name is not named in this house!" he cried, his +voice thin and tremulous. "By no one!" he struck the table with a +shaking hand. "Understand me, sir, by no one! God's curse on them! Ay, +and on all who----" + +"No, sir, no!" The cry came from the girl. "Do not curse him!" + +She was on her feet. For an instant the Lieutenant, seeing her +father's distorted face, feared that he would strike her. But the +result was different. The opposition that might have maddened the +angry man, had the effect of sobering him. "Sit down!" he muttered, +passing his napkin over his face. "Sit down, fool! Sit down! And +you"--he paused a moment, striving to regain the gibing tone that was +habitual to him--"you, sir, may now see how it is. I told you we had +no manners. You have now the proof of it. I doubt I must keep you, +until the Abbess, my daughter, pays her next visit, that you may see +at least one Villeneuve who is neither clown nor dotard!" + +Man of the world as he was, the King's Lieutenant knew not what to say +to this outburst. He murmured a vague apology, and thought how +different all was from the anticipations which the scent of hay and +the farmyard peace had raised in him on his arrival. This old man, +rotting in the husk of his former greatness, girding at his helpless +children, gnawing, in the decay of his family's grandeur, on his heart +and theirs, returning scorn for scorn, and spite for spite, but on +those who were innocent of either, ignorant of either--this was a +picture to the painting of which the most fanciful must have brought +some imagination. Under the surface lay something more; something that +had to do with the Crocans. He fancied that he could make a guess at +the secret; and that it had to do with the girl's lover. But the meal +was closing, the Vicomte's rising interrupted his thoughts, and +whatever interest the question had for him, he was forced to put it +away for the time. + +The Vicomte bowed a stiff good-night. "Boor as he is, I fear that you +must now put up with my son," he said, smiling awry. "He has the Tower +Room, where, in my time, I have known the best company in the province +lie, when good company was; it has been scarce," he continued +bitterly, "since Coutras. He will find you a lodging there, and if the +accommodation be rough, and your room-fellow what you see him," +shrugging his shoulders, "at least you will have space enough and +follow good gentry. I have known the Governor of Poitou and the +Lieutenant of Perigord, with two of the Vicomtes of the Limousin, lie +there--and fourteen truckle-beds about them. In those days was little +need to bar our gates at night. Solomon! The lanthorn, fool! I bid +you good-night, sir!" + +Des Ageaux bowed his acknowledgements, and following in the train of +an older serving-man than he had yet seen; who, bearing a lanthorn, +led him up a small staircase. Roger the hapless followed. On the first +floor the guest noted the doors of four rooms, two on either side of a +middle passage, that got its light from a window at the end of the +house. Such rooms--or rooms opening one through the other--were at +that date reserved for the master and mistress of the chateau, and +their daughters, maiden or married. For something of the old system +which secluded women, and a century before had forbidden their +appearance at Court, still prevailed; nor was the Lieutenant at all +surprised when his guide, turning from these privileged apartments, +led him up a flight of four or five steps at the hither end of the +passage. And so through a low doorway. + +He passed the door, and was surprised to find himself in the open air +on the roof of the hall, the stars above him, and the night breeze +cooling his brow. The steeply-pitched lead ended in a broad, flat +gutter, fenced by a rail fixed in the parapet. The servant led him +along the path which this gutter provided to a door in the wall of the +great round tower that rose twenty feet above the house. This gave +entrance to a small chamber--one of those commonly found between the +two skins of such old buildings--which served both for landing and +ante-room. From it the dark opening of a winding staircase led upwards +on one hand; on the other a low-browed door masked the course of the +downward flight. + +Across this closet--bare as bare walls could make it--the grey-bearded +servant led him in two strides, and opening a farther door introduced +him into the chamber which had seen so much good company. It was a +gloomy, octagonal room of great size, lighted in the daytime by four +deep-sunk windows, and occupying--save for such narrow closets as that +through which they entered--a whole storey of the tower. The lanthorn +did but make darkness visible, but Solomon proceeded to light two +rushlights that stood in iron sconces on the wall, and by their light +the Lieutenant discerned three truckle-beds laid between two of the +windows. He could well believe, so vast was the apartment, that +fourteen had not cumbered its bareness. At this date a couple of +chests, as many stools, a bundle of old spears and a heavy +three-legged table made up, with some dingy, tattered hangings, the +whole furniture of the chamber. + +The old serving-man set down the lanthorn and looked about him +sorrowfully. + +"Thirty-four I've seen sleep here," he said. "The Governor of Poitou, +and the Governor of Perigord, and the four Vicomtes of the Limousin, +and twenty-eight gentles in truckles." + +"Twenty-eight?" the Lieutenant questioned, measuring in some +astonishment the space with his eye. "But your master said----" + +"Twenty-eight, by your leave," the man answered obstinately. "And +every man his dog! A gentleman was a gentleman then, and a Vicomte a +Vicomte. But since that cursed battle at Coutras set us down and put +these Huguenots up, there is an end of gentry almost. Ay, thirty--was +it thirty, I said?" + +"Four, you said. Thirty-four," des Ageaux answered, smiling. +"Good-night." + +The man shook his head sombrely, bade them goodnight, and closed the +door on them. + +An instant later he could be heard groping his way back through the +closet and over the roof. The Lieutenant, as soon as the sound ceased, +looked round and thought that he had seldom lain in a gloomier place. +The windows were but wooden lattices innocent of glass, and through +the slats of the nearest a strong shoot of ivy grew into the room. The +night air entered with it and stirred the ragged hangings that covered +a part of the walls; hangings that to add to the general melancholy +had once been black, a remnant, it is possible, of the funeral +trappings of some dead Vicomte. Frogs croaked in a puddle without; one +of the lattices creaked open at intervals, only to close again with a +hollow report; the rushlights flared sideways in the draught. Des +Ageaux had read of such a room in the old romances, in _Bevis of +Hampton_, or the _History of Armida_; a room of shadows and gloom, +owl-flittings and dead furnishings. But he smiled at the thoughts it +called up. He had often lain in his cloak under the sky amid dead men. +Nevertheless, "Do you sleep here alone?" he asked, turning to his +companion, who had seated himself despondently on one of the beds. + +The lad, oppressed by what had gone forward downstairs, barely looked +up. "Yes," he began, "since"--and then, breaking off, he added +sullenly, "Yes, I do." + +"Then you don't lack courage!" des Ageaux replied. + +"People sleep well when they are tired," the youth returned, "as I am +to-night." + +The Lieutenant accepted the hint, and postponed until the morrow the +questions he had it in his mind to ask. Nodding a good-humoured assent +he proceeded to his simple arrangements for the night, placed his +sword and pistols beside the truckle-bed, and in a few minutes was +sleeping as soundly on his thin palliasse as if he had been in truth +the poverty-stricken gentleman of Brittany he once had been and still +might be again. + + + + + CHAPTER II. + + THE TOWER CHAMBER. + + +An hour or two later the Lieutenant awoke suddenly. He rose on his +elbow, and listened. Inured to a life of change which had cast him +many times into strange beds and the company of stranger bed-fellows, +he had not to ask himself where he was, or how he came to be there. He +knew these things with a soldier's instinct, before his eyes were +open. That which he did ask himself was, what had roused him. + +For it was still the dead of night, and all in the chateau, and all +without, save the hoarse voices of the frogs, seemed quiet. Through +the lattice that faced him the moonbeams fell on the floor in white, +criss-cross patterns; which the pointed shape of the windows made to +resemble chequered shields--the black and white escutcheons of his +native province. These patches of light diffused about them a faint +radiance, sufficient, but no more than sufficient, to reveal the +outlines of the furniture, the darker masses of the beds, and even the +vague limits of the chamber. He marked nothing amiss, however, except +that which had probably roused him. The nearest lattice, that one +through which he had noted the ivy growing, stood wide open. Doubtless +the breeze, light as it was, had swung the casement inwards, and the +creak of the hinge, or the coolness of the unbroken stream of air +which blew across his bed, had disturbed him. + +Satisfied with the explanation, he lay down with a sigh of content, +and was about to sink into sleep when a low, sibilant sound caught his +ear, fretted him awhile, finally dragged him up, broadly awake. What +was it? What caused it? The gentle motion of the loosened ivy on the +sill? Or the wind toying with the leaves outside? Or the stir of the +ragged hangings that moved weirdly on the wall? Or was some one +whispering? + +The last was the fact, and, assured of it, des Ageaux peered through +the gloom at the nearer pallet, and discovered that it was empty. Then +he reflected. The ivy, which grew through the window, must have held +the lattice firm against a much stronger breeze than was blowing. It +followed that the casement had been opened by some one; probably by +some one who had entered the room that way. + +It might be no affair of his, but on the other hand it might be very +much his affair. He looked about the room, making no sound, but +keeping a hand raised to seize his weapons on the least alarm. + +He could discover neither figure nor any sign of movement in the room. +Yet the whispering persisted. More puzzled, he raised himself higher, +and then a streak of light which the low, lumpy mass of one of the +truckle-beds had hidden, broke on him. It shone under the door by +which he had entered, and proceeded, beyond doubt, from a lanthorn or +rushlight in the antechamber. + +What was afoot? It is not as a rule for good that men whisper at dead +of night, nor to say their prayers that they steal from their beds in +the small hours. Des Ageaux was far from a timid man--or he had not +been Lieutenant-Governor of Perigord--but he knew himself alone in a +strange house, and a remote corner of that house; and though he +believed that he held the map of the country he might be deceiving +himself. Possibly, though he had seen no sign of it, he was known. His +host styled himself the Captain of Vlaye's friend; he might think to +do Vlaye a kindness at his guest's expense. Nor was that all. Lonely +travellers ran risks in those days; it was not only from inns that +they vanished and left no sign. He bore, it was true, not much of +price about him, and riding without attendance might be thought to +have less. But, all said and done, the house was remote, the Vicomte +poor and a stranger. It might be as well to see what was passing. + +He rose noiselessly to his feet, and, taking his sword, crept across +the floor. He had lain down in the greater part of his clothes, and +whatever awaited him, he was ready. As he drew near the door, the +whispering on the farther side persisted. But it was low, the sound +lacked menace, and before he laid his ear to the oak some shame of the +proceeding seized him. + +His scruples were wasted. He could not, even when close, distinguish a +word; so wary were the speakers, so low their voices. Then the +absurdity of his position, if he were detected and the matter had +naught to do with him, took him by the throat. The chamber, with its +patches of moonlight and its dim spaces, was all quiet about him, and +either he must rest content with that, or he must open and satisfy +himself. He took his resolution, found the latch, and opened the door. + +He was more or less prepared for what he saw. Not so the three whom he +surprised in their midnight conference. The girl whom he had seen at +supper sprang with a cry of alarm from the step on which she had her +seat, and retreating upwards as quickly as the cloak in which she was +muffled would let her, made as if she would escape by the tower +stairs. The two men--Roger, the son of the house, and another, a +taller youth, who leant against the wall beside him--straightened +themselves with a jerk; while the stranger, who had the air of being +two or three years older than Roger, laid his hand on his weapon. A +lanthorn which stood on the stone floor between the three, and was the +only other object in the closet, cast its light upwards; which had the +effect of distorting the men's features, and exaggerating looks +already disordered. + +The Lieutenant, we have said, was not wholly surprised. None the less +the elder of the two young men was the first to find his tongue. "What +do you here?" he cried, his eyes gleaming with resentment. "We came to +be private here. What do you wish, sir?" + +Des Ageaux took one step over the threshold and bowed low. "To offer +my apologies," he replied, with a tinge of humour in his tone, "and +then to withdraw. To be plain, sir, I heard whispering, and, +half-roused, I fancied that it might concern me. Forgive me, +mademoiselle," he continued, directing an easy and not ungraceful +gesture to the shrinking girl, who cowered on the dark stairs as if +she wished they might swallow her. "Your pardon also, Monsieur +Charles." + +"You know my name?" the stranger exclaimed, with a swift, perturbed +glance at the others. + +"Your name and no more," des Ageaux answered, smiling and not a whit +disturbed. His manner was perfectly easy. "I heard it as I opened. But +be at rest, that which is not meant for me I do not keep. You will +understand that the hour was late, I found the window open, I heard +voices--some suspicion was not unnatural. Have no fear, however. +To-morrow I shall only have had one dream the more." + +"But dream or no dream," the person he had addressed as Charles +blurted out, "if you mention it----" + +"I shall not mention it." + +"To the Vicomte even?" + +"Not even to him! The presence of mademoiselle's brother," des Ageaux +continued, with a keen glance at Roger, "were warrant for silence, had +I the right to speak." + +The girl started and the hood of her cloak fell back. With loosened +hair and parted lips she looked so pretty that he was sorry he had +struck at her ever so slightly. "You think, sir," she exclaimed in a +tone half-indignant, half-awestruck, "that this is my lover?" + +His eyes passed from her to the taller young man. He bowed low. "I +did," he said, the courtesy of his manner redoubled. "Now I see that +he is your brother. Forgive me, mademoiselle, I am unlucky this +evening. Lest I offend again--and my presence alone must be an +offence--I take my leave." + +Charles stepped forward. "Not," he said somewhat peremptorily, "before +you have assured us again of your silence! Understand me, sir, this is +no child's play! Were my father to hear of my presence, he would make +my sister suffer for it. Were he to discover me here--you do not know +him yet--it might cost a life!" + +"What can I say more," des Ageaux replied with a little stiffness, +"than I have said? Why should I betray you?" + +"Enough, sir, if you understand." + +"I understand enough!" And then, "If I can do no more than be +silent----" + +"You can do no more." + +"I take my leave." And, bowing, with an air of aloofness he stepped +back and closed the door on them. + +When he had done so the three looked eagerly at one another. But they +did not speak until his footsteps on the chamber floor had ceased to +sound. Then, "What is this?" the elder brother muttered, frowning +slightly at the younger. "There is something here I do not understand. +Who is he? What is he? You told me that he was some poor gentleman +adventuring alone, and without servants, and staying here for the +night with a lame horse and an empty purse. But----" + +"He was not like this at supper," Roger replied, excusing himself. + +"But he has nothing of the tone of the man you described." + +"Not now," Bonne said. "But at supper he was different in some way." +And recalling how he had looked at her when he thought that Charles +was her lover, she blushed. + +"He is no poor man," Charles muttered. "Did you mark his ring?" + +"No." + +"May-be at supper it was turned inward, but as he stood there with his +hand on the door post, the light fell on it. _Three leopards passant +or on a field vert!_ I have seen that coat, and more than once!" + +"But why should not the poor gentleman wear his coat?" Bonne urged. +"Perhaps it is all that is left of his grandeur." + +"In gold on green enamel?" Charles asked, raising his eyebrows. +"Certainly his sword was of the plainest. But I don't like it! Why is +he here? What is he doing? Can he be friend to Vlaye, and on his way +to help him?" + +Abruptly the girl stepped forward, and flinging an arm round her +brother's neck, pressed herself against him. "Give it up! Give it up!" +she murmured. "Charles! Dear brother, listen to me. Give it up!" + +"It were better you gave me up," he replied in a tone between humour +and pathos, as he stroked her hair. "But you are Villeneuve at heart, +Bonne----" + +"Bonne by nature, Bonne by name!" Roger muttered, caressing her with +his eyes. + +"And stand by those you love, whatever come of it!" Charles continued. +"Would you then have me leave those"--with a grimace which she, having +her face on his shoulder, could not see--"whom, if I do not love, I +have chosen! Leave them because danger threatens? Because Vlaye gives +the word?" + +"But what can you do against him?" she answered in a tearful tone. +"You say yourself that they are but a rabble, your Crocans! Broken +men, beggars and what not, peasants and ploughboys, ill-armed and +ill-fed! What can they do against men-at-arms? Against Vlaye? I +thought when I got word to you to come, in order that I might tell you +what he was planning--I thought that you would listen to me!" + +"And am I not listening, little one?" he replied, fondling her hair. + +"But you will not be guided?" + +"That is another thing," he replied more soberly. "Had I known, it is +true, what I know now, had I known of what sort they were to whom I +was joining myself, I might not have done it. I might have borne a +little longer"--his tone grew bitter--"the life we lead here! I might +have borne a little longer to rust and grow boorish, and to stand for +clown and rustic in M. de Vlaye's eyes when he deigns to visit us! I +might have put up a little longer with the answer I got when I craved +leave to see the wars and the world--that as my fathers had made my +bed I must lie on it. Ay, and more! If he--I will not call him +father--had spared me his sneers only a little, if he had let a day go +by without casting in my face the lack that was no fault of mine, I +would have still tried to bear it. But not a day did he spare me! Not +one day, as God is my witness!" + +Her sorrowful silence acknowledged the truth of his words. At length, +"But if these folk," she said timidly, "are of so wretched a sort, +Charles?" + +"Wretched they are," he answered, "but their cause is good. Better +fall with them than rise by such deeds as have driven them to arms. I +tell you that the things I have heard, as I sat over their fires by +night in the caves about Bourdeilles where they lie, would arm not +men's hands only, but women's! Would spoil your sleep of nights, and +strong men's sleep! Poor cottars killed and hamlets burned, in pure +sport! Children flung out and women torn from homes, and through a +whole country-side corn trampled wantonly, and oxen killed to make a +meal for four! But I cannot tell you what they have suffered, for you +are a woman and you could not bear it!" + +Bonne forgot her fears for him. She leant forward--she had gone back +to her seat on the stairs--and clenched her small hands. "And M. de +Vlaye it is," she cried, "he who has done more than any other to +madden them, who now proposes to rise upon their fall? Monsieur de +Vlaye it is who, having driven them to this, will now crush them and +say he does the King service, and so win pardon for a thousand +crimes?" + +But the light had gone out in Charles's eyes. "Ay, and win it he will. +So it will go," he said moodily. "So it will happen! He has seen afar +the chance of securing himself, and he will seize it, by doing what, +for the time, no other has means to do." + +"He who kindled the fire will be rewarded for putting it out?" + +"Just so!" + +"But can you do nothing against him?" Roger muttered. + +"We may hold our own for a time, in the caves and hills about Brantome +perhaps," the elder brother answered. "But after a while he will +starve us out. And in the open such folks as we have, ill-armed, +ill-found, with scarce a leader older than myself, will melt before +his pikes like smoke before the wind!" + +Roger's eyes glistened. "Not if I were with you," he muttered. "There +should be one blow struck before he rode over us! But"--he let his +chin sink on his breast--"what am I?" + +"Brave enough, I know," Charles answered, putting his hand +affectionately on the lad's shoulder. "Braver than I am, perhaps. But +it is not the end, be the end what it may, good lad, that weighs me +down and makes me coward. It is the misery of seeing all go wrong hour +by hour and day by day! Of seeing the cause with which I must now sink +or swim mishandled! Of striving to put sense and discipline into the +folk who are either clowns, unteachable by aught but force, or a +rabble of worthless vagrants drawn to us as to any other cause that +promises safety from the gallows. And yet, if I were older and had +seen war and handled men, I feel that even of this stuff I could make +a thing should frighten Vlaye. Ay, and for a time I thought I could," +he continued gloomily. "But they would not be driven, and short of +hanging half a dozen, which I dare not attempt, I must be naught!" + +"Do you think," Roger muttered, "that if you had me beside you--I have +strong arms----" + +"God forbid!" Charles answered, looking sadly at him. "Dear lad, one +is enough! What would Bonne do without you? It is not your place to go +forth." + +"If I were straight!" + +The girl leaned forward and took his hand. "You are straight for me," +she said softly. "Straight for me! More precious than the straightest +thing in the world!" + +He sighed and Bonne echoed the sigh. It was the first time the three +had met since Charles's flight; since, fretted by inaction and stung +beyond patience by the gibes of the father--who, while he withheld the +means of making a figure in the world, did not cease to sneer at +supineness--he had taken a step which had seemed desperate, and now +seemed fatal. For if this Crocan rising were not a Jacquerie in name, +if it were not stained as yet by the excesses which made that word a +terror, it was still a peasant-rising. It was still a revolt of the +canaille, of the mob; and more indulgent fathers than the Vicomte +would have disowned the son who, by joining it, ranged himself against +his caste. + +The younger man had known that when he took the step; yet he had been +content to take it. The farther it set him from the Vicomte the +better! But he had not known nor had Bonne guessed how hopeless was +the cause he was embracing, how blind its leaders, how shiftless its +followers, how certain and disastrous its end! But he knew now. He +knew that, to the attack which M. de Vlaye meditated, the mob of clods +and vagrants must fall an easy prey. + +Young and high-spirited, moved a little by the peasants' wrongs, and +more by his own, he had done this thing. He had rushed on ruin, made +good his father's gibes, played into M. de Vlaye's hands--the hands of +the man who had patronised him a hundred times, and with a sneer made +sport of his rusticity. The contempt of the man of the world for the +raw boy had sunk into the lad's soul, and he hated Vlaye. To drag +Vlaye down had been one of Charles's day-dreams. He had pined for the +hour when, at the head of the peasants who were to hail him as their +leader, he should tread the hated scutcheon under foot. + +Now he saw that all the triumph would be M. de Vlaye's, and that by +his bold venture he had but added a feather to the hated plume. And +Bonne and Roger, mute because their love taught them when to speak and +when to refrain, gazed sadly at the lanthorn. The silence lasted a +long minute, and was broken in the end, not by their voices, but by +the distant creak of a door. + +Bonne sprang to her feet, the colour gone from her face. "Hush!" she +cried. "What was that? Listen." + +They listened, their hearts beating. Presently Roger, his face almost +as bloodless as Bonne's, snatched up the lanthorn. "It is the +Vicomte!" he gasped. "He is coming! Quick, Charles! You must go the +way you came!" + +"But Bonne?" his brother muttered, hanging back. "What is she to do?" + +Roger, his hand on the door of the Tower Chamber, stood aghast. +Charles might escape unseen, there was still time. But Bonne? If her +father found the girl there? And the stranger was in the Tower Room, +she could not retreat thither. What was she to do? + +The girl's wits found the answer. She pointed to the stairs. "I will +hide above," she whispered. "Do you go!" It was still of Charles she +thought. "Do you go!" But the terror in her eyes--she feared her +father as she feared no one else in the world--wrung the brothers' +hearts. + +Charles hesitated. "The door at the top?" he babbled. "It is locked, I +fear!" + +"He will not go up!" she whispered. "And while he is in the Tower Room +I can escape." + +She vanished as she spoke, in the darkness of the narrow winding +shaft--and it was time she did. The Vicomte was scarce three paces +from the outer door when the two who were left sprang into the Tower +Chamber. + +The Lieutenant was on his feet by the side of his bed. He had not gone +to sleep, and he caught their alarm, he had heard the last hurried +whispers, he had guessed their danger. He was not surprised when +Charles, without a word, crossed the floor in a couple of bounds, +flung himself recklessly over the sill of the window, clung an instant +by one hand, then disappeared. A moment the shoot of ivy that grew +into the chamber jerked violently, the next the door was flung wide +open, and the Vicomte, a gaunt figure bearing a sword in one hand, a +lanthorn in the other, stood on the threshold. The light of the +lanthorn which he held above his head that he might detect what was +before him, obscured his face. But the weapon and the tone of his +voice proclaimed the fury of his suspicions. "Who is here?" he cried. +"Who is here?" And again, as if in his rage he could frame no other +words, "Who is here, I say? Speak!" + +Roger, on his feet, the tell-tale lanthorn in his hand, could not +force a word. He stood speechless, motionless, self-convicted; and had +all lain with him, all had been known. Fortunately des Ageaux took on +himself to answer. + +"Who is here, sir?" he said in a voice a tone louder and a shade +easier than was natural. "The devil, I think! For I swear no one else +could climb this wall!" + +"What do you mean?" + +"And climb it," des Ageaux persisted, disregarding the question, "very +nearly to this sill! I heard him below five minutes ago. And if I had +not been fool enough to rouse your son and bid him light we had had +him safe by now on this floor!" + +The Vicomte glared. The story was glib, well told, animated; but he +doubted it. He knew what he had expected to find. "You lit the +lanthorn?" he snarled. "When?" + +"Two minutes back--it might be more," des Ageaux replied. "Now he is +clean gone. Clean gone, I fear," he added as he stepped into the +embrasure of the window and leant forward cautiously, is if he thought +a shot from below a thing not impossible. "I hear nothing, at any +rate." + +The Vicomte, struggling with senile rage, stared about him. "But I saw +a light!" he cried. "In the outer room!" + +"The outer room!" + +"Under the door." + +"Shone under both doors, I suppose," des Ageaux replied, still intent +to all appearance on the dark void outside. "I'll answer for it," he +added carelessly as he turned, "that he did not go out by the door." + +"He will not go out now," the Vicomte retorted with grim suspicion, +"for I have locked the outer door." He showed the key hung on a finger +of the hand which held the lanthorn. + +The sight was too much for Roger; he understood at once that it cut +off his sister's retreat. A sound between a groan and an exclamation +broke from him. + +The Vicomte lifted the lanthorn to his face. "What now, booby?" he +said. "Who has hurt you?" And, seeing what he saw, he cursed the lad +for a coward. + +"I did not feel over brave myself five minutes ago," the Lieutenant +remarked. + +The Vicomte turned on him as if he would curse him also. But, meeting +his eyes, he thought better of it, and swallowed the rage he longed to +vent. He stared about him a minute or more, stalking here and there +offensively, and trying to detect something on which to fasten. But he +found nothing, and, having flung the light of his lanthorn once more +around the room, he stood an instant, then, turning, went sharply--as +if his suspicions had now a new direction--towards the door. + +"Good-night!" he muttered churlishly. + +"Good-night!" the Lieutenant answered, but in the act of speaking he +met the look of horror in Roger's eyes, remembered and understood. +"She is still there," the lad's white lips spelled out, as they +listened to the grating noise of the key in the lock. "She could not +escape. And he suspects. He is going to her room." + +Des Ageaux stared a moment nonplussed. The matter was nothing to him, +nothing, yet his face faintly mirrored the youth's consternation. +Then, in a stride, he was at his bedside. He seized one of the +horse-pistols which lay beside his pillow, and, before the lad +understood his purpose, he levelled it at the open window and fired +into the night. + +The echoes of the report had not ceased to roll hollowly through the +Tower before the door flew wide again, and the Vicomte reappeared, his +eyes glittering, his weapon shaking in his excitement. "What is it?" +he cried, for at first he could not see, the smoke obscured the room. +"What is it? What is it?" + +"A miss, I fear," des Ageaux answered coolly. He stood with his eyes +fixed on the window, the smoking weapon in his hand. "I fear, a +miss--I had a notion all the time that he was in the ivy outside, and +when he poked up his head----" + +"His head?" the Vicomte exclaimed. He was shaking from head to foot. + +"Well, it looked like his head," des Ageaux replied more doubtfully. +He moved a step nearer to the window. "But I could not swear to it. It +might have been an owl!" + +"An owl?" the Vicomte answered in an unsteady tone. "You fired at an +owl?" + +"Whatever it was I missed it," des Ageaux answered with decision, and +in a somewhat louder tone. "If you will step up here--but I fear you +are not well, M. le Vicomte?" + +He spoke truly, the Vicomte was not well. He had had a shock. Cast off +his son as he might, hate him as he might--and hate him he did, as one +who had turned against him and brought dishonour on his house--that +shot in the night had shaken him. He leant against the wall, his lips +white, his breath coming quickly. And a minute or more elapsed before +he recovered himself and stood upright. + +He kept his eyes averted from des Ageaux. He turned instead to Roger. +Whether he feared for himself and would not be alone, or he suspected +some complicity between the two, he signed to the lad to take up the +lanthorn and go before him. And, moving stiffly and unsteadily across +the floor, he got himself in silence to the door. With something +between a bow and a glance--it was clear that he could not trust his +tongue--he was out of the room. + +The Lieutenant sat on his bed for some time, expecting Roger to +return. But the lad did not appear, and after an interval des Ageaux +took on himself to search the staircase. It was untenanted. The girl, +using the chance he had afforded her, had escaped. + + + + + CHAPTER III. + + STILL WATERS TROUBLED. + + +Had Bonne de Villeneuve, a day earlier, paid a visit much in fashion +at that time, and consulted the "dark man" who, in an upper room on +the wall of Angouleme, followed the stars and cast horoscopes, and was +reputed to have foretold the death of the first Duke of Joyeuse as +that nobleman passed southwards to the field of Coutras, she might +have put faith in such of the events of the night as the magic crystal +showed her; until it came to mirror, faint as an evening mist beside +the river, her thoughts after the event. Then, had it foretold that, +as she lay quaking in her bed, she would be thinking neither of the +brother, whose desperate venture wrung her heart, nor of Roger, her +dearer self, but of a stranger--a stranger, whose name she had not +known six hours, and of whose past she knew nothing, she would have +paused, refusing credence. She would have smiled at the phantasm of +the impossible. + +Yet so it was. Into the quiet pool of her maiden heart had fallen in +an hour the stone that sooner or later troubles the sweet waters. As +she lay thinking with wide-open eyes, her mind, which should have been +employed with her brother's peril, or her own escape, or her father's +rage, was busy with the stranger who had dropped so suddenly into her +life, and had begun on the instant to play a sovereign part. She +recalled his aspect as he looked in on them, cool and confident, at +their midnight conference. She heard his tone as he baffled her +father's questions with cunning answers. She marvelled at the wit that +in the last pinch had saved her from discovery. He seemed to her a man +of the world such as had not hitherto come within the range of her +experience. Was he also the perfect knight of whom she had not been +woman if she had not dreamed? + +What, she wondered, must his life have been, who, cast among strange +surroundings, bore himself so masterfully, and so shrewdly took his +part! What chances he must have seen, what dangers run, how many men, +how many cities visited! He might have known the Court, that strange +_melange_ of splendour and wickedness, and mystery and valour. He +might have seen the King, shrewdest of captains, bravest of princes; +he might have encountered eye to eye men whose names were history. He +came out of the great outer world of which she had visions, and +already she was prepared to invest him with wonderful qualities. Her +curiosity once engaged, she constructed for him first one life and +then another, and then yet another--all on the same foundation, the +one fact which he had told them, that he was a poor gentleman of +Brittany. She considered his ring, and the shape of his clothes, and +his manner of eating, which she found more delicate than her +brothers'; and she fancied, but she told herself that she was foolish +to think it, that she detected under his frigid bearing a habit of +command that duller eyes failed to discern. + +She was ashamed at last of the persistence with which her thoughts ran +on him, and she tried to think of other things, and so thought of him +again, and, awaking to the fact, smiled. But without blushing; partly +because, whatever he was, he stood a great way from her, and partly +because it was only her fancy that was touched, and not her heart; and +partly again because she knew that he would be gone by mid-day, and +could by no possibility form part of her life. Nevertheless, it was +not until her time for rising came that anxiety as to her brother's +safety and her father's anger eclipsed him. Then, uncertain how much +the Vicomte knew, how near the truth he guessed, she forgot her hero, +and thought exclusively of her father's resentment. + +She might have spared her fears. The Vicomte was a sour and embittered +man, but neither by nature nor habit a violent one. Rage had for an +hour rendered him capable of the worst, capable of the murder of his +son if, having an arm in his hand, he had met him, capable of the +expulsion of his daughter from his house. But the fit was not natural +to him; it was not so that he avenged the wrongs which the world had +heaped upon him--since Coutras. He fell back easily and at once into +the black cynical mood that was his own. He was too old and weak, he +had too long brooded in inaction, he had too long wreaked his +vengeance on the feeble to take strong measures now, whatever happened +to him. + +But some hours elapsed before Bonne knew this, or how things would be. +It was not her father's custom to descend before noon, for with his +straitened means and shrunken establishment he went little abroad; and +he would have died rather than stoop to the rustic tasks which Roger +pursued, and of which Bonne's small brown hands were not ignorant. She +had not seen him when, an hour before noon, she repaired to a seat in +the most remote corner of the garden, taking with her some household +work on which she was engaged. + +The garden of the chateau of Villeneuve--the garden proper that is, +for the dry moat which divided the house from the courtyard was +planted with pot-herbs and cabbages--formed a square, having for its +one side the length of the house. It lay along the face of the +building remote from the courtyard, and was only accessible through +it. Its level, raised by art or nature, stood more than a man's height +above the surrounding country; of which, for this reason, it afforded +a pleasant and airy prospect. The wall which surrounded and buttressed +it stood on the inner side no more than three feet high, but rose on +the outer from a moat, the continuation of that which has just been +mentioned. + +The pleasaunce thus secured on all sides from intrusion consisted +first of a paved walk which ran under the windows of the chateau, and +was boarded by a row of ancient mulberry-trees; secondly, beyond this, +of a strip of garden ground planted with gooseberry-bushes and +fruit-trees, and bisected by a narrow walk which led from the house to +a second terrace formed on the outer wall. This latter terrace lay +open towards the country and at either end, but was hidden from the +prying eyes of the house by a line of elms, poled and cut espalier +fashion. It offered at either extremity the accommodation of a +lichen-covered stone bench which tempted the old to repose and the +young to reverie. The east bench enabled a person seated sideways on +it--and so many had thus sat that the wall was hollowed by their +elbows--to look over the willow-edged river and the tract of lush +meadows which its loop enclosed. The western seat had not this poetic +advantage, but by way of compensation afforded to sharp eyes a glimpse +of the track--road it could not be called--which after passing the +chateau wound through the forest on its course to Vlaye and the south. + +From childhood the seat facing the river had been Bonne's favourite +refuge. Before she could walk she had played games in the dust beneath +it. She had carried to it her small sorrows and her small joys, her +fits of nursery passion, her moods as she grew older. She had nursed +dolls on it, and fancies, dreamed dreams and built castles; and in a +not unhappy, thought neglected girlhood, it had stood for that sweet +and secret retreat, the bower of the budding life, which remains holy +in the memory of worn men and women. The other bench, which commanded +a peep of the road, had been more to her elder sister's taste; nor was +the choice without a certain bearing on the character of each. + +This morning, she had not been five minutes at work before she heard +footsteps on the garden path. The sun, near its highest, had driven +her to the inner end of the seat, where the elm in summer leaf +straggled widely over it, growing low, as elms will. She knew that +whoever came she would see before she was seen. + +It turned out as she expected. M. des Ageaux lounged onto the terrace, +and shading his eyes from the sun's rays, gazed on the prospect. She +judged that he thought himself alone, for he took a short turn this +way and that. Then, after a casual glance at the empty seats--empty as +he doubtless judged, though she from her arbour of leaves could watch +his every movement--he wheeled about, and, facing the chateau, seemed +to satisfy himself that the wall of pollard elms sheltered him from +sight. + +His next proceeding was mysterious. He drew from his breast a packet, +of parchment or paper, unfolded it, and laid it flat on the wall +before him. Then he stooped and after poring over it, glanced at the +view, referred again to the paper, then again to the lie of the +country, and the course of the river which flowed on his left. Finally +he measured off a distance on the map. For a map it was, beyond doubt. + +A shadow fell on her as she watched him. Nor did his next movement +dispel the feeling. Folding up the map he replaced it in his breast, +and leaning over the wall he scrutinised the outer surface of the +brickwork. Apparently he did not discover what he sought, for he +raised himself again, and with eyes bent on the tangle of nettles and +rough herbage that clothed the bottom of the moat, he moved slowly +along the terrace towards her. He reached, without seeing her, the +seat on which she sat, knelt on it with one knee, and leaning far over +the moat, allowed a low laugh to escape him. + +She fought the faint suspicion that, unwelcome, asserted itself. He +had behaved so honourably, so reticently, in all that had happened +that she was determined not to believe aught to his discredit. But her +folly, if foolish she was, must not imperil another. She made a mental +note that there was one thing she must not tell him. Very quickly that +reflection passed through her brain. And then-- + +"Why do you laugh?" she said. + +He wheeled about so sharply that in another mood she must have +laughed, so much she had the advantage of him. For an instant he was +so taken aback that he did not speak. Then, "Why did you startle me?" +he asked, his eyes smiling. + +"Because--yes, my brother came in that way." + +"I know it," he answered; "but not why you startled me, mademoiselle, +a minute ago." + +"Nor I," she retorted, smiling faintly, "why you were so inquisitive, +M. des Voeux?" + +"I am going to tell you that," he said. He seated himself on the bench +so as to face her, and doffing his hat, held it between his face and +the sun. He was not, we know, very amenable to the charms of women, +and he saw in her no more than a girl of rustic breeding, comely and +gentle, and something commonplace, but a good sister whose aid with +her brother he needed. "I am going to tell you," he said; "because I +am anxious to meet your brother again and to talk with him." + +She continued to meet his eyes, but her own were clouded. "On what +subject," she asked, "if I am not too curious?" + +"The Crocans." + +On her guard as she was, the word put her out of countenance. She +could not hide, and after one half-hearted attempt did not try to +hide, her dismay. "The Crocans?" she said. "But why do you come to +me?" her colour coming and going. "What have we to do with them, if +you please? Or my brother?" + +"He has been banished from his home for some offence," the Lieutenant +answered quietly. "Your father forbids the mention of the name +Crocans. It is reasonable to infer that the offence is connected with +them, and, in a word, that your brother has done what any young man +with generous instincts and a love of adventure might do. He has +joined them. I do not blame him." + +"You do not blame him?" she murmured. Never had she heard such words +of the Crocans--except from her brother. "You mean that?" + +"I say it and mean it," the Lieutenant replied. But he spoke without +emotion, emotion was not his forte. "Nor am I alone," he went on, "in +holding such opinions. But the point, mademoiselle, is this. I wish to +find a means of communicating with them, and he can and probably will +be willing to aid me. For certain, if the worst comes to the worst, I +can aid him." + +Bonne's heart beat rapidly. She did not--she told herself that she did +not distrust him. Had it been her own secret he was seeking she would +have delivered it to him freely. But the manner in which he had borne +himself while he thought himself alone, the possession of the map, and +the shrewdness with which he had traced her brother's movement and +surprised a secret that was still a secret from the household, +frightened her. And her very inexperience made her pause. + +"But first, I take it, you need his aid?" she murmured. + +"I wish to speak with him." + +"Have you seen my father?" + +He opened his eyes and bent a little nearer. "Do you mean, +mademoiselle----" + +"I mean only," she said gently, "that if you express to him the views +on the Crocans which you have just expressed to me, your opportunities +of seeing my brother will be scant." + +He laughed. "I have not opened them to him," he said. "I have seen +him, and whether he thinks that he was a little more exigent last +night than the danger required, or he desires to prove to me that +midnight alarms are not the rule at Villeneuve, he has not given me +notice to go. His invitation to remain is not, perhaps," he smiled +slightly, "of the warmest. But if you, mademoiselle, will second +it----" + +She muttered--not without a blush--that it would give her pleasure. +And he proceeded, "Then no difficulty on that point will arise." + +She stooped lower over her work. What was she to do? He wanted that +which she had decided she must not give him. Just that! What was she +to do? + +She was so long in answering, that he dubbed her awkward and +mannerless. And thought it a pity, too; for she was a staunch sister, +and had shown herself resourceful; and in repose her face, though +brown and sunburnt, was not without grace. He came to the point. "May +I count on you for this?" he asked bluntly. + +"For--what?" + +"That as soon as you can you will bring me face to face with your +brother?" + +She looked up and met his gaze. "As soon as I think it safe to do so," +she said, "I will. You may depend on me." + +He had not divined her doubt, nor did he discern her quibble. Still, +"Could I not go to him to-day?" he said. "If he is still in the +neighbourhood?" + +She shook her head. "I do not know where he is," she answered, glad +that she could say so much with truth. "But if he show himself, and it +be safe, I will let you know. Roger----" + +"Ha! To be sure, Roger may know?" + +She smiled. "Roger and I are one," she said. "You must not expect to +get from him what I do not give." She said it naively, with just so +much of a smile as showed her at her best, and he hastened to say that +he left himself in her hands. She blushed through her sunburn at that, +but clung to her quibble, telling herself that this was a stranger, +the other a brother, and that if she destroyed Charles she could never +forgive herself. + +He saw that she was disturbed, and he changed the subject. "You have +always lived here?" he asked. + +"Yes," she answered, "but I can remember when things were different +with us. We were not always so broken. Before Coutras--but," with a +faint smile, "you have heard my father on that, and will not wish to +hear me." + +"The Vicomte was present at the battle?" + +"Yes, he was in the centre of the Catholic army with the Duke of +Joyeuse. He escaped with his life. But we lay in the path of the +pursuit after the flight, and they sacked the house, and burned the +hamlet by the ford--the one you passed--and the two farms in the bend +of the river--the two behind you. They swept off every four-legged +thing, every horse, and cow, and sheep, and left us bare. One of the +servants who resisted was killed, and--and my mother died of the +shock." + +She broke off with an uncontrollable shiver. She was silent. After a +pause, "Perhaps you were at Coutras, M. des Voeux?" she said, looking +up. + +"I was not of the party who sacked your house," he answered gravely. + +She knew then that he had fought on the other side; and she admired +him for the tact with which he made it known to her. He was a soldier +then. She wondered, as she bent over her work, if he had fought +elsewhere, and under whom, and with what success. Had he prospered or +sunk? He called himself a poor gentleman of Brittany, but that might +have been his origin only, he might be something more now. + +In the earnestness of her thoughts she turned her eyes on his ring, +and she blushed brightly when with a quick, almost rude movement he +hid his hand. "I beg your pardon!" she murmured. "I was not thinking." + +"It is I should beg yours," he said quietly. "It is only that I do not +want you to come to a false conclusion. This ring--in a word I wear +it, but the arms are not mine. That is all." + +"Does that apply also," she asked, looking at him ingenuously, "to the +pistols you carry, M. des Voeux? Or should I address you--for I saw +last evening that they bore a duke's coronet--as your Grace?" + +He laughed gaily. "They are mine, but I am not a duke," he said. + +"Nor are you M. des Voeux?" + +Her acuteness surprised him. "I am afraid, mademoiselle," he said, +"that you have a mind to exalt me into a hero of romance--whether I +will or no." + +She bent over her work to hide her face. "A duke gave them to you, I +suppose?" she said. + +"That is so," he replied sedately. + +"Did you save his life?" + +"I did not." + +"I have heard," she returned, looking up thoughtfully, "that at +Coutras a gentleman on the other side strove hard to save the Duke of +Joyeuse's life, and did not desist until he was struck down by his own +men." + +"He looked to make his account by him, no doubt," the Lieutenant +answered coldly. "Perhaps," with a scarcely perceptible bitterness, +"the Duke, had he lived, would have given him--a pair of pistols!" + +"That were a small return," she said indignantly, "for such a +service!" + +He shrugged his shoulders. And to change the subject-- + +"What are the grey ruins," he asked, "on the edge of the wood?" + +"They are part of the old Abbey," she answered without looking up, +"afterwards removed to Vlaye, of which my sister is Abbess. There was +a time, I believe, when the convent stood so close to the house that +it was well-nigh one with it. There was some disorder, I believe, and +the Diocesan obtained leave to have it moved, and it was planted on +lands that belonged to us at that time." + +"Near Vlaye?" + +"Within half a league of it." + +"Your sister, then, is acquainted with the Captain of Vlaye?" + +She did not look up. "Yes," she said. + +"But you and your brothers?" + +"We know him and hate him--only less than we fear him!" She regretted +her vehemence the moment she had spoken. + +But he merely nodded. "So do the Crocans, I fancy," he said. "It is +rumoured that he is preparing something against them." + +"You know that?" she exclaimed in surprise. + +"Without being omniscient," he answered smiling. "I heard it in +Barbesieux. It was that, perhaps," he continued shrewdly, "which you +wished to tell your brother yesterday." + +On that she was near confessing all to him and telling him, in spite +of her resolutions, where on the next day he could find her brother. +But she clung to her decision, and a minute later he rose and moved +away in the direction of the house. + +When they met at table the mystery of the Vicomte's sudden impulse to +hospitality, which was something of a puzzle to her, began to clear. + +It had its origin in nothing more substantial than his vanity; which +was tickled by the opportunity of talking to a man who, with some +pretensions to gentility, could be patronised. A little, too, he +thought of the figure he had made the night before. It was possible +that the stranger had been unfavourably impressed. That impression the +Vicomte thought he must remove, and to that end he laboured, after his +manner, to be courteous to his guest. But as his talk consisted, and +had long consisted, of little but sneers and gibes at the companions +of his fallen fortunes, his civility found its only vent in this +direction. + +Des Ageaux indeed would gladly have had less of his civility. More +than once--though he was not fastidious--his cheek coloured with +shame, and willingly would he, had that been all, have told the +Vicomte what he thought of his witticisms. But he had his cards +sorted, his course arranged. Circumstances had played for him in the +dangerous game on which he was embarked, and he would have been +unworldly indeed had he been willing to cast away, for a point of +feeling--he who was no knight-errant--the advantages he had gained. + +Not that he did not feel strongly for the two whose affection for one +another touched him. Roger's deformity appealed to him, for he fancied +that he detected in the lad a spirit which those who knew him better, +but knew only his gentler side, did not suspect. And the girl who had +grown from child to woman in the rustic stillness of this moated +house--that once had rung with the tread of armed heels and been gay +with festive robes and tourneys, but now was sinking fast into a +lonely farmstead--she too awakened some interest in the man of the +world, who smiled to find himself embedded for the time in a life so +alien from his every-day experiences. Concern he felt for the one and +the other; but such concern as weighed light in the balance against +the interests he held in his hands, or even against his own selfish +interest. + +It soon appeared that the Vicomte had another motive for hospitality, +in the desire to dazzle the stranger by the splendours of his eldest +daughter, on whom he continued to harp. "There is still one of us," he +said with senile vanity--"I doubt if, from the specimens you have +seen, you will believe it--who is not entirely as God made her! Thank +the Lord for that! Who is neither clod nor clout, sir, but has as much +fashion as goes to the making of a modest gentlewoman." + +His guest looked gravely at him. "I look forward much to seeing her, +M. le Vicomte!" he said for the tenth time. + +"Ay, you may say so!" the Vicomte answered. "For in her you will see a +Villeneuve, and the last of the line!" with a scowl at Roger. "Neither +a lout with his boots full of hay-seeds--pah! nor a sulky girl with as +much manner as God gave her, and not a jot to it! Nice company I have, +M. des Voeux," he continued bitterly. "Did you say des Voeux--I never +heard the name?" + +"Yes, M. le Vicomte." + +"Nice company, I say, for a Villeneuve in his old age! What think you +of it? Before Coutras, where was an end of the good old days, and the +good old gentrice----" + +"You were at Coutras?" + +"Ay, to my cost, a curse on it! But before Coutras, I say, I had at +least their mother, who was a Monclar from Rouergue. She had at any +rate a tongue and could speak. And my daughter the Abbess takes after +her, though may-be more after me, as you will think when you see her. +She will be here, she says, to-morrow, for a night or two." This he +told for the fifth time that evening. + +"I am looking forward to seeing her!" the guest repeated gravely--also +for the fifth time. + +But the Vicomte could not have enough of boasting, which was doubly +sweet to him; first because it exalted the absent, and secondly +because it humiliated those who were present. "Thank God, she at least +is not as God made her!" he said again, pleased with the phrase. "At +Court last year the King noticed her, and swore she was a true +Villeneuve, and a most perfect lady without fault or blemish!" + +"His Majesty is certainly a judge," the listener responded, the +twinkle in his eye more apparent than usual. + +"To be sure!" the old man returned. "Who better? But, for the matter +of that, I am a judge myself. My daughter--for there is only one +worthy of the name"--with a withering glance at poor Bonne--"is not +hand in glove with every base-born wench about the place, trapesing to +a christening in a stable as readily as if the child were a king's +son! Ay, and as I am a Catholic, praying beside old hags' beds till +the lazy priest at the chapel has nought left to do for his month's +meal! Pah!" + +"Ranks are no doubt of God's invention," des Voeux said with his eyes +on the table. + +The Vicomte struck the board angrily. "Who doubts it?" he exclaimed. +"Of God's invention, sir? Of course they are!" + +"But I take it that they exist, in part at least," des Ageaux +answered, "as a provision for the exercise of charity; and of----" he +hesitated, unwilling--he read the gathering storm on the Vicomte's +brow--to give offence; and, by a coincidence, he was saved from the +necessity. As he paused the door flew open, and a serving-man, not one +of the two who had waited on the table, but an uncouth creature, +shaggy and field-stained, appeared gesticulating on the threshold. He +was out of breath, apparently he could not speak; while the gust of +wind which entered with him, by blowing sideways the long, straggling +flames of the candles, and deepening the gloom of the ill-lit room, +made it impossible to discern his face. + +The Vicomte rose. They all rose. "What does this mean?" he cried in a +rage. "What is it?" + +"There's a party ringing at the gate, my lord, and--and won't take +no!" the man gasped. "A half-dozen of spears, and others on foot and +horse. A body of them. Solomon sent me to ask what's to do, and if he +shall open." + +"There's a petticoat with them," a second voice answered. The speaker +showed his face over the other's shoulder. + +"Imbeciles!" the Vicomte retorted, fired with rage. "It is your lady +the Abbess come a day before her time! It is my daughter and you stay +her at the door!" + +"It is not my lady," the second man answered timidly. "It might be +some of her company, my lord, but 'tis not her. And Solomon----" + +"Well? Well?" + +"Says that they are not her people, my lord." + +The Vicomte groaned. "If I had a son worthy the name!" he said, and +then he broke off, looking foolish. For Roger had left the room and +des Ageaux also. They had slipped by the men while the Vicomte +questioned them, and run out through the hall and to the gate--not +unarmed. The Vicomte, seeing this, bade the men follow them; and when +these too had vanished, and only four or five frightened women who had +crowded into the room at the first alarm remained, he began to fumble +with his sword, and to add to the confusion by calling fussily for +this and that, and to bring him his arquebus, and not to open--not +to open till he came! In truth years had worked imperceptibly on +him. His nerves, like many things about him, were not what they had +been--before Coutras. And he was still giving contrary directions, and +scolding the women, and bidding them make way for him--since it seemed +there was not a man to go to the gate but himself--when approaching +voices broke on his ear and silenced him. An instant later one or two +men appeared among the women in the doorway, and the little crowd fell +back in wonder, to make room for a low dark man, bareheaded and +breathing hard, with disordered hair and glittering eyes, who, +thrusting the women to either side, cried--not once, but again, and +yet again:-- + +"Room! Room for the Countess of Rochechouart! Way for the Countess!" + +At the third repetition of this--which he seemed to say +mechanically--his eyes took in the scene, the table, the room, and the +waiting figure of the scandalized Vicomte, and his voice broke. +"Saved!" he cried, flinging up his arms, and reeling slightly as if he +would fall. "My lady is saved! Saved!" + +And then, behind the low, dark man, who, it was plain, was almost +beside himself, the Vicomte saw the white face and shrinking form of a +small, slight girl little more than a child, whose eyes were like no +eyes but a haunted hare's, so large and bright and affrighted were +they. + + + + + CHAPTER IV. + + THE DILEMMA. + + +Sheer amazement held the Vicomte silent. The Countess of Rochechouart, +of the proud house of Longueville, that in those days yielded place to +scarce a house in France--the Countess of Rochechouart to be seeking +admittance at his door! And at this hour of the night! She, who was of +the greatest heiresses of France, whose hand was weighted with a +hundred manors, and of whose acquaintance the Abbess had lately +boasted as a thing of which even a Villeneuve might be proud, she to +be knocking at his gate in the dark hours! And seeking help! The +Countess--his head went round. He was still gazing speechless with +surprise when the short dark man who had entered with her fell on his +knees before the girl, and seizing her hand mumbled upon it, wept on +it, babbled over it, heedless alike of the crowd of gazers who pressed +upon him, and of the master of the house, who stared aghast. + +The Vicomte's amazement began at that to give place to perplexity. The +Abbess, had she been here, would have known how to entertain such a +guest. But Bonne and Roger--they were naught. Yet he must do +something. He found his voice. "If I have, indeed," he said, for he +was still suspicious of a trick, so forlorn and childish seemed the +figure before him--"if I have indeed the honour," he repeated stiffly, +"to address the Countess of Rochechouart, I--I bid her welcome to my +poor house." + +"I am Mademoiselle de Rochechouart," the girl murmured, speaking +faintly. "I thank you." + +It was apparent that she could say no more. Her face was scratched and +bleeding, her hair was loose, her riding-dress, stained to the throat +with dirt, was torn in more places than one. There were other signs +that, frail as she was, she had ridden hard and desperately; ridden to +the end of her strength. + +But the Vicomte thought, not of her, but of himself, as was his +custom; not of her plight, but of the figure he was making before his +people, who stared open-mouthed at the unwonted scene. "Time was, +mademoiselle," he replied, drawing himself up, "before Coutras, when I +could have offered you"--with a bow--"a more fitting hospitality. Time +was when the house of Villeneuve, which has entertained four kings, +could have afforded a more fitting reception to--hem--to beauty in +distress. But that was before Coutras. Since Coutras, destined to be +the grave of the nobility of France--I---- What is it?" + +"I think she is faint, sir," Bonne murmured timidly. She, with a +woman's eye, saw that the Countess was swaying, and she sprang forward +to support her. "She is ill, sir," she continued hurriedly and with +greater boldness. "Permit me, I beg you, sir, to take her to my room. +She will be better there--until we can arrange a chamber." Already the +child, half-fainting, was clinging to her, and but for her must have +fallen. + +The Vicomte, taken aback by his daughter's presumption, could only +stare. "If this be so," he said grudgingly, "certainly! But I don't +understand. How comes all this about? Eh? How----" But he found that +the girl did not heed him, and he turned and addressed the attendant. +"How, you, sir, comes your mistress here? And in this plight?" + +But the dark man, as deaf as his mistress to the question, had turned +to follow her. He seemed indeed to have no more notion of being parted +from her than a dog which finds itself alone with its master among +strangers. Bonne at the door discovered his presence at her elbow, and +paused in some embarrassment. The Vicomte saw the pause, and glad to +do something--he had just ordered off the women with fleas in their +ears--he called loudly to the man to stand back. "Stand back, fellow," +he repeated. "The Countess will be well tended. Let two of the women +be sent to her to do what is needful--as is becoming." + +But the Countess, faint as she was, heard and spoke. "He is my +foster-father," she murmured without turning her head. "If he may lie +at my door he will heed no one." + +Bonne, whose arm was round her, nodded a cheerful assent, and, +followed by two of the women, the three disappeared in the direction +of the girl's chamber. The Vicomte, left to digest the matter, sniffed +once or twice with a face of amazement, and then awoke to the fact +that Roger and his guest were still absent. Fortunately, before he had +done more than give vent to peevish complaints, they entered. + +He waited, with his eyes on the door. To his surprise no one followed +them--no steward, no attendant. "Well?" he cried, withering them with +his glance. "What does this mean? Where are the others? Is there no +one in the Countess's train of a condition to be presented to me? +Or how comes it that you have not brought him, booby,"--this to +Roger--"to give me some account of these strange proceedings? Am +I the last to be told who come into my house? But God knows, since +Coutras----" + +"There is no one, M. le Vicomte," the Lieutenant answered. + +The Vicomte glared at him. "How? No one?" he retorted pompously. +"Impossible! Do you suppose that the Countess of Rochechouart travels +with no larger attendance than a poor gentleman of Brittany? You mean, +sir, I take it, that there is no one of condition, though that is so +contrary to rule that I can hardly believe it. A countess of +Rochechouart and no gentlemen in her train! She should travel with +four at the least!" + +"I only know that there is no one, sir." + +"I do not understand!" + +"Neither do we," the Lieutenant of Perigord returned, somewhat out of +patience. "The matter is as dark to us as it is to you, sir. It is +plain that the Countess has experienced a serious adventure, but +beyond that we know nothing, since neither she nor her attendant has +spoken. He seems beside himself with joy and she with fatigue." + +"But the spears?" his host retorted sharply. "The men on horse and +foot who alarmed the porter?" + +"They vanished as soon as we opened. One I did delay a moment, and +learned--though he was in haste to be gone--that they fell in with the +lady a half mile from here. She was then in the plight in which you +have seen her, and it was at her attendant's prayer, who informed them +of her quality, that they escorted her to this house. They learned no +more from him than that the lady's train had been attacked in the +woods between this and Vlaye, and that the man got his mistress away +and hid with her, and was making for this house when the horsemen met +them." + +"Incredible!" the Vicomte exclaimed, stalking across the hearth and +returning in excitement. "Since Coutras I have heard no such thing! A +Countess of Rochechouart attacked on the road and put to it like a +common herdgirl. It must be the work of those cursed--peasants! It +must be so! But, then, the men who brought her to the door and +vanished again, who are they? Travellers are not so common in these +parts. You might journey three days before you fell in with a body of +men-at-arms to protect you on your way." + +"True," des Ageaux answered. "But I learned no more from them." + +"And you, Master Booby?" the Vicomte said, addressing Roger with his +usual sarcasm. "You asked nothing, I suppose?" + +"I was busied about the Countess," the lad muttered. "It was dark, and +I heard no more than their voices." + +"Then it was only you who saw them?" the Vicomte exclaimed, turning +again to des Ageaux. "Did you not notice what manner of men they were, +sir, how many, and of what class? Strange that they should leave a +warm house-door at this hour! Did you form no opinion of them? Were +they"--he brought out the word with an effort--"Crocans, think you?" + +The Lieutenant replied that he took them for the armed attendants of a +gentleman passing that way, and the Vicomte, though ill-content with +the answer, was obliged to put up with it. "Yet it seems passing +strange to me," he retorted, "that you did not think their drawing off +a little beside the ordinary. And who travels at this hour of the +night, I would like to know?" + +The Lieutenant made no answer, and the Vicomte too fell silent. From +time to time serving-women had passed through the room--for, after the +awkward fashion of those days, the passage to the inner apartments was +through the dining-hall--some with lights, and some with fire in pans. +The draught from the closing doors had more than once threatened to +extinguish the flickering candles. Such flittings produced an air of +bustle and a hum of preparation long unknown in that house; but they +were certainly more to the taste of the menials than the master. At +each interruption the Vicomte pished and pshawed, glaring as if he +would slay the offender. But the women, emboldened by the event and +the presence of strangers, did not heed him, and after some minutes of +silent sufferance his patience came to an end. + +"Go you," he cried to Roger, "and bid the girl come to me." + +"The Countess, sir?" the lad exclaimed in astonishment. + +The Vicomte swore. "No, fool!" he replied. "Your sister! Is she master +of the house, or am I? Bid her descend this instant and tell me what +is forward and what she has learned." + +Roger, with secret reluctance, obeyed, and his father, sorely +fretting, awaited his return. Two minutes elapsed, and three. Seldom +stirring abroad, the Vicomte had, in spite of all his talk about +Coutras, an overweening sense of his own importance, and he was about +to break out in fury when Bonne at length entered. She was followed by +Roger. + +It was clear at a glance that the girl was frightened; less clear that +mixed with her fear was another emotion. "Well," the Vicomte cried, +throwing himself back in his great chair and fixing her with his angry +eyes. "What is it? Am I to know nothing--in my own house?" + +Bonne controlled herself by an effort. "On the contrary, sir, there is +that which I think you should know," she murmured. "The Countess has +told me the story. She was attacked on the road, some of her people +she fears were killed, and all were scattered. She herself escaped +barely with her life." + +The Vicomte stared. "Where?" he said. "Where was it?" + +"An hour from here, sir." + +"Towards Vlaye?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And she barely escaped?" + +"You saw her, sir." + +"And who--who does she say dared to commit this outrage?" + +Bonne did not answer. Her eyes sought her brother's and sank again. +She trembled. + +The Vicomte, though not the keenest of observers, detected her +embarrassment. He fancied that he knew its origin, and the cause of +her hesitation. In a voice of triumph, "Ay, who?" he replied. "You +don't wish to say. But I can tell you. I read it in your face. I can +tell you, disobedient wench, who alone would be guilty of such an +outrage. Those gutter-sweepings"--his face swelled with rage--"made up +of broken lacqueys and ploughboys, whom they call Crocans! Eh, girl, +is it not so?" he continued savagely. "Am I not right?" + +"No, sir," she murmured without daring to look up. + +His face fell. "No?" he repeated. "No? But I don't believe you! Who +then? Don't lie to me! Who then?" He rapped the table before him. + +"The Captain of Vlaye," she whispered. + +The Vicomte sank back in his chair. "Impossible!" he cried. Then in a +much lower tone: "Impossible!" he repeated. "You dream, girl. M. de +Vlaye has done some things not quite--not regular. But--but in cases +perfectly different. To people of--of no consequence! This cannot be!" + +"I fear it is so, sir," she whispered, without raising her eyes. "Nor +is that--the worst." + +The Vicomte clenched his fingers about the arms of his chair and +nodded the question he could not frame. + +"It was with the Abbess, sir--with my sister," Bonne continued in a +low tone, "that the Countess was to stay the night. I fear that it was +from her that he learned where and how to beset her." + +The Vicomte looked as if he was about to have a fit. + +"What?" he cried. "Do you dare, unnatural girl, to assert that your +sister was privy to this outrage?" + +"Heaven forbid, sir!" Bonne answered fervently. "She knew naught of +it. But----" + +"Then why----" + +"But it was from her, I fear, that he learned where the child--she is +little more--could be surprised." + +The Vicomte glared at her without speaking. The Lieutenant, who had +listened, not without admiration of the girl's sense and firmness, +seized the opening to intervene. "Were it not well, sir," he said, his +matter-of-fact tone calming the Vicomte's temper, "if mademoiselle +told us as nearly as possible what she has heard? And, as she has been +somewhat shaken, perhaps you will permit her to sit down! She will +then, I think, be able to tell us more quickly what we want." + +The Vicomte gave a surly assent, and the Lieutenant himself placed a +stool for the girl where she could lean upon the table. Her father +opened his eyes at the attention, but something in des Ageaux's face +silenced the sneer on his lips, and he waited until Bonne began. + +"The Countess lay at Pons last night, sir," she said in a low tone. +"There the lady who was formerly her _gouvernante_, and still rules +her household, fell ill. The plague is in Western Poitou, and though +the Countess would have stayed, her physician insisted that she should +proceed. Accordingly she left the invalid in his charge and that of +some of her people, while she herself pursued her way through Jonsac +and Barbesieux with a train reduced to fourteen persons, of whom eight +were well armed." + +"This is what comes of travelling in such a fashion," the Vicomte said +contemptuously. "I remember when I never passed the gates without--but +go on!" + +"She now thinks that the _gouvernante's_ food was tampered with. Be +that as it may, her company passed our ford in the afternoon, and an +hour later reached the ascent a league this side of Vlaye. They were +midway on the ascent, when half a dozen shots were fired. Several of +their horses were struck, and the rest seized by a number of men who +sprang from the undergrowth. In the panic those who were at the rear +attempted to turn, but found their retreat cut off. The Countess +alone, who rode in the middle with her steward, escaped through the +devotion of a servant, who thrust his horse before the leader of the +bandits and brought him down. Fulbert, her steward, saw the +opportunity, seized her rein, and, plunging into the undergrowth, +reached by good luck the bottom of the hill, and, hidden by the wood, +gained a start. He knew, however, that her strength would not hold +out, and at the first sound of pursuit he alighted in a coppice, drove +on the horses, and crept away with her through the underwood. He hoped +to take shelter here, but passed the entrance in the darkness and +walked into the midst of a party of men encamped at the ford. Then +he thought all lost, deeming them the band that had waylaid the +Countess----" + +"And who were they, if they were not?" the Vicomte asked, unable to +restrain his curiosity. "Eh? They were camping at the ford?" + +"Some riders belonging to the household of the Lieutenant of Perigord, +sir, on their way to join him in his government. They were so honest +as to guard the Countess hither----" + +"And go again? The good Lord!" the Vicomte cried irritably. "Why?" + +"I do not know, sir." + +"Go on, then. Why do you break off? But--enough!" The Vicomte looked +at the other listeners with an air of triumph. "Where is Vlaye in +this? Because it was within a league of his castle, you put it on him, +you baggage?" + +"No, sir, indeed!" Bonne cried anxiously. "But Fulbert the steward +knows M. de Vlaye well, and recognised him. He wore a mask, it seems, +but when his horse fell, the mask slipped, and Fulbert saw his face +and knew him. Moreover----" + +"Well?" + +"One of the band rode a bald-faced black horse, which the steward saw +in M. de Vlaye's troop at Angouleme two months back, and to which he +says he could swear among ten thousand." + +The Vicomte swore as one among a large number. But at length, "And +what is this to do with me?" he fumed. "What is this to me? Time was, +before Coutras, when I might have been expected to--to keep the roads, +and stay such things! But now--body of Satan, what is it to me?" + +No one spoke, and he looked about him angrily, resenting their +silence. "What is it?" he snarled. "What are you keeping back?" + +"Nothing, sir," Bonne answered. + +"Then what would you?" + +"If," Bonne ventured desperately, "M. de Vlaye come to-morrow with my +sister--with the Abbess, sir, as is not unlikely--and find the +Countess here, will she be safe?" + +The Vicomte's mouth opened, and slowly consternation settled upon his +features. "_Mon Dieu!_" he muttered. "I had not thought of that. But +here--no, no, he would not dare! He would not dare!" + +"He went very far to-day, sir," Bonne objected, gaining courage from +his face. "So far that he must go farther to ensure himself from the +consequences." + +The Vicomte was silent. + +The Lieutenant coughed. "If his object," he said, "be to force a +marriage with the Countess----" + +The Vicomte, with an oath, cut him short. "A marriage?" he said. "A +marriage? When he and my daughter the Abbess are--but who said aught +of the kind? Who said aught of a marriage?" + +The Lieutenant did not answer, and the Vicomte, after growling in his +beard, turned to him. "Why," he demanded in a tone that, though +ungracious, was no longer violent, "why do you say that that was his +object?" + +"Because," the Lieutenant answered, "I happen to know that M. de +Longueville, who is her guardian, has his hands full. His wife and +children are prisoners with the Spaniards, and he is moving heaven and +earth and the court to procure their release. He has no thought to +spare for the Countess, his cousin; and were she once married, however +violently, I doubt if he or any would venture to dispute her +possessions with a Vlaye, whose resources her wealth would treble. +Such knights-errant," he continued drily, "are not very common, M. le +Vicomte. Set M. de Vlaye's strength at three hundred men-at-arms----" + +"Four!" the Vicomte muttered, despite himself. + +"Then double the four--as such a marriage, however effected, would +double them--and I doubt," with a courteous bow, "if even a Villeneuve +would find it easy to avenge a wrong!" + +The Vicomte fidgeted in his seat. "You seem to know a vast deal about +it, sir," he said, with ill-feigned contempt. + +"I should feel it an honour," the Lieutenant answered politely, "to be +permitted to join in the defence." + +"Defence!" the Vicomte exclaimed, staring at him in astonishment. "You +go fast, sir! Defence? What do you mean?" + +"If M. de Vlaye learn that the Countess has taken refuge here--I fear +it will come to that." + +"Pooh! Impossible! Defence, indeed! What are you dreaming of?" + +But the guest continued to look grave, and the Vicomte, after +muttering incoherently, and drumming on the table with his fingers, +condescended to ask with a sneer what _he_ would do--in the +circumstances. + +"I should keep her presence from him," des Ageaux answered. "I have no +right, I know," he continued, in a more conciliatory tone, "to give +counsel to one of your experience, M. le Vicomte. But I see no choice +save to do what I suggest, or to pull up the drawbridge." + +The Vicomte sat up straight. Pull up the drawbridge? Was he +dreaming--he who had sat down to sup without a thought of misfortune? +He with four hundred yards of wall to guard, and some seven pikes to +hold it--to defy Vlaye and his four hundred ruffians? Body of Satan, +he was not mad! Defy Vlaye, whom he feared even while he sneered at +him as an adventurer? Vlaye, in whose star he believed even while he +sneered. Or would he have dreamed of giving him his daughter? Pull up +the drawbridge? Never! + +"I am not mad," he said coldly. But his hands trembled. + +"Then, M. le Vicomte, it remains to keep it from him." + +"How? You talk at random," the exasperated man answered. "Can I close +the mouth of every gossip in the house? Can I cut out every woman's +tongue, beginning with that girl's? How can I keep out his men, or +stop their ears over the wine-pot?" + +"Could you not admit him only?" + +"And proclaim from the housetop," the Vicomte retorted with contempt, +"that I have something to hide?" + +The Lieutenant did not reply at once, and it was plain that he was +puzzled by this view of the position. "Certainly that has to be borne +in mind," he said. "You are quite right." + +"To be sure it has!" the Vicomte answered brusquely, glad to have the +opportunity of putting this overzealous adviser in his right place. +But the satisfaction of triumph faded quickly, and left him face to +face with the situation. He cursed Vlaye for placing him in the +dilemma. He cursed the Countess--why could she not have taken refuge +elsewhere? Last of all, he cursed his guest, who, after showing +himself offensively able to teach him his duty, failed the moment it +came to finding an expedient. + +The solution of the riddle came from a quarter whence--at any rate by +the Vicomte--it was least expected. "May I say something?" Roger +ventured timidly. + +His father glared at him. "You?" he exclaimed. And then ungraciously, +"Say on!" he growled. + +"We have cut half the grass in the long meadow," the lad answered. +"And to-morrow we ought to be both cutting and making, while it is +fine. Last year, as we were short-handed, the women helped. If you +were to order all but Solomon to the hay-field to-morrow--it is the +farthest from here, beside the river--there would be no one to talk or +tell, sir." + +Des Ageaux struck his leg in approbation. "The lad has it!" he said. +"With your permission, M. le Vicomte, what could be better?" + +"Better?" the Vicomte retorted, throwing himself back in his chair. +"What? I am to open my gate with my own hands?" + +"Solomon would open. And he can be trusted." + +"Receive my daughter without man or maid?" the Vicomte cried. "Show +myself to strangers without my people? Appear like one of the +base-born beggarly ploughmen with mud in their veins, with whom you +love to mix? What mean you, sirrah, by such a suggestion? Shame on +you, unnatural fool!" + +"But, M. le Vicomte," the Lieutenant remonstrated, "if you will not do +that----" + +"Never! Never!" + +"Then," des Ageaux answered, more stiffly, "it remains only to pull up +the drawbridge. Since, I presume," he continued, his tone taking +insensibly a note of disdain, "you do not propose to give up the young +lady, or to turn her from your door." + +"Turn her from my door?" + +"That being at once to help M. de Vlaye to this marriage, and to drag +the name of Villeneuve in the mud! But"--breaking off with a bow--"I +am sure that the honour of the family is safe in your hands, M. le +Vicomte." + +"It is well you said that!" the Vicomte cried, his face purple, his +hands palsied with rage. "It is well you broke off, sir, or I would +have proved to you that my honour is safe with me. Body of Satan, am I +to be preached to by everybody--every brainless lad," he continued, +prudently diverting his tirade to the head of the unlucky Roger, +"who chooses to prate before his elders! _Mon Dieu!_ There was a time +when children sat mute instead of preaching. But that was before +Coutras!"--bitterly--"when most things came to an end." + +This time des Ageaux had the shrewdness to be silent, and he garnered +the reward of his reticence. The Vicomte, rant as wildly as he might, +was no fool, though vanity was hourly putting foolish things into his +mouth. He was not blind--had he not "since Coutras" always on his +lips?--to the changes which time had wrought in the world, and he knew +that face to face with his formidable neighbour he was helpless. Nor +was he in the dark on Vlaye's character. So far the adventurer had +respected him, and in presence, and at a distance, had maintained an +observance and a regard that was flattering to the decayed gentleman. +But the Vicomte had seen the fate of others who crossed the Captain of +Vlaye. He knew how impotent the law had proved to save them, how slack +their friends--in a word, how quickly the waters had rolled over them. +And he was astute enough to see, with all his conceit, that as it had +been with them, it might be with him, if he stood in M. de Vlaye's +way. + +On the other hand, had he been mean enough to deliver up the Countess, +he dared not. In the first place, to do so would, at the best, be +hazardous; she had powerful friends, and whether she escaped or +married her captor she might not forgive him. In the second place, he +did not lightly resign the plan, which he had conceived, of uniting +his favourite daughter to the rising adventurer. True, M. de Vlaye's +position was anomalous, was precarious. But a day, a bribe, a turn of +the cards might legalise it and place him high in Court favour. And +then---- + +The Vicomte's train of thought ran no farther in silence. With an oath +and an ill grace he bade them do as they would. "Things," he cried, +"are come to a pass indeed when guests----" + +"A thousand pardons, M. le Vicomte!" + +"And children dictate what is to be done and what to be left undone!" +He looked older as he spoke; more broken and more peevish. "But since +Coutras the devil has all, I think." + + + + + CHAPTER V. + + THE CAPTAIN OF VLAYE. + + +Danger, that by night sends forth a vanguard of fears, and quells the +spirits before it delivers the attack, pursues a different course by +day, seeking to surprise rather than to intimidate. Seldom had June +sun shone on a fairer scene than that which the lifting of the river +mists delivered to the eyes of the dwellers in the chateau on the +following morning, or on one more fit to raise the despondent courage. +The tract of meadow land that, enfolded by the river, formed the only +clear ground about the house lay in breezy sunshine, which patches of +shadow, flung on the sward by such of the surrounding trees as rose a +little higher than the ordinary, did but heighten. The woods which +enclosed this meadow land, here with a long straight wall of oaks, +there with broken clumps of trees that left to view distant glades and +alleys, sparkled, where the sun lighted their recesses, with +unnumbered dew-drops, or with floating gossamers, harbingers of a fair +day. The occasional caw of a rook flying fieldward over the open, or +the low, steady coo of the pigeons in the great stone cote beside the +gate, added the last touch of peace to the scene; a scene so innocent +that it forbade the notion of danger and rendered it hard to believe +that amid surroundings like these, and under the same sky of blue, +man's passions were, in parts not distant, turning an earthly heaven +to a hell. + +Access to these meadows was by a sled-road, which, starting from the +great gate, wound round the wall of the courtyard, and then, turning +its back on the house, passed by a small stone bridge over the brook +which had once supplied the moat. From the bridge the track ran across +the meadows to the abandoned farms which stood on the river bank half +a mile from the chateau. The only building among these which retained +a roof was a long wooden barn, still used to contain waste fodder and +the like. + +It was from this bridge, a narrow span of stone, that Bonne, the +following morning, gazed on the scene, her hand raised to shade her +eyes from the sun. The whole of the Vicomte's household, with the +exception of a deaf cook and of Solomon, who could be trusted, were +gone to the hay-field; some with delight, as welcoming any change, and +some with whispers and surmises. Thence their shrill voices and +laughter were borne by the light breeze to the girl's ears. + +Nothing had been heard of the Countess's train, and her concealment +during the hours of danger had perplexed both the Vicomte and his +advisers. His pride would not permit him to make her privy to the +coming visit, or the precautions which it rendered needful. Yet +without acknowledging his inability to protect her, it was not easy to +confine her to one room. For, with the elasticity of youth, she had +risen little the worse for her adventures. + +The council sat long, and in the end the better course seemed to be to +invite her to the hay-field. As it fell out, a small matter gave a +natural turn to the proposal. Her riding-dress--and more of her dress +than that--was so stained and torn as to be unwearable. And Bonne +could not help her, for the child, though perfectly formed, and of a +soft prettiness, was cast in a smaller mould. Here, then, was a +Countess without so much as a stocking, had not Bonne thought of a +little waiting-girl of about the same shape and size. This girl's +holiday attire was borrowed, and found to be a charming fit--at least +in the eyes of Roger. For the lad, because the Countess was shy, had +become, after a sort, her protector. + +The child's timidity was at standing odds with her rank, and on first +descending in this dress she had been on the point of tears, as +infants cry when they think themselves the objects of ridicule. A very +little and she had fled. But a moment later, whether she read +something that was not ridicule in the lad's eyes, as she walked up +and down the terrace, or youth stirred in her and raised a childish +pleasure in the masquerade, she preened herself, blushing, and +presently she was showing herself off. So that at the first word she +fell in with the notion of completing her make-believe by spending the +day in the hay. + +Fortunately, Fulbert, the steward, who attended her like a dog, and +like a dog glared suspicion on all who approached her, raised no +objection. And about three hours before noon the move was made. Bonne +had gone with Mademoiselle as far as this bridge, where she now stood, +and thence had sent her forward with Roger and Fulbert on the plea +that she must herself attend to household cares. Nevertheless, as the +three receded in the sun's eye, she lingered awhile looking +thoughtfully after them. + +The dainty creature, tripping in her queer travesty between her +foster-father and Roger's misshapen form, showed like a fairy between +two gnomes. Bonne watched and smiled, and presently the smile became a +tear, for Roger's sake. She had other and more pressing cares, other +and heavier burdens this morning; but her heart was warm for him. She +had been mother as well as sister to him, and the reflection that his +deformity--once she had heard a peasant call him goblin--would +probably for ever set him apart and deprive him of the joys of manhood +touched her with grief as she stood. + +The tear was still on her lid when she heard a step behind her, turned +and saw des Ageaux--to her des Voeux. He read trouble in her clear, +youthful face, fancied she was in fear, and paused to reassure her. +"Why so sad, mademoiselle," he asked, "when she"--with a good-humoured +nod in the direction of the Countess--"who has so much more to fear, +trips along gaily? She is another being to-day." + +"I have others to fear for," she replied. + +"Your brother?" + +She fancied that he was about to press her to bring him to Charles, +and to change the subject she avowed her trouble. Why, heaven knows; +for though her presence of mind the previous evening had won a meed of +admiration from him, he had made no sign. + +"I was not thinking of him," she confessed. "I was thinking of Roger. +I was thinking how sad it is--for him." + +He understood her. "You make too much of it," he said lightly. "He has +health and strength, and a good spirit when your father is not +present. His arm is long, and will always keep his head. Have you +never heard what M. de Gourdon, Governor of the March, who is--who is +like your brother, you know--once said of himself? 'My back?' quoth he +to one who mentioned it. 'My friends mind it not, and my enemies have +never seen it!'" + +She flushed and a light came into her eyes. "Oh, brave!" she cried. +"Brave! And you think that Roger----" + +"I think that Roger may some day make himself feared. And he who is +feared," the Lieutenant continued, with a half cynical, half whimsical +smile, "has ever love on his other hand--as surely as dog follows the +hand that feeds it." + +The words had barely left his lips when a wolf-hound, whose approach +they had not noticed, darted upon them, and, leaping up at the +Lieutenant's face, nearly overthrew him. Bonne recoiled, and with a +cry looked round for help. Then she perceived that it was with joy, +not with rage, that the dog was beside himself; for again and again, +with sharp shrill cries of pleasure, it leapt on the Lieutenant, +striving to lick his hands, his face, his hair. In vain he bade it +"Down! Down, dog!" In vain he struck at it. It set its paws against +his breast, and though often repulsed, as often with slobbering mouth +and hanging tongue sought his face. + +When he had a little calmed its transports and got it to heel, he +turned to her, and for once showed an embarrassed countenance. "It is +a dog," he said, "a dog of mine that has followed me." + +"I see that," she replied, smiling with something of mischief in her +looks. + +"It must have followed me----" + +"A full mile this morning," she said, stooping and patting the hound, +which, with a dubious condescension, permitted the greeting. "It is +both fed and dry. And its name is----" + +He looked at her, but did not answer. + +"Does this often happen to you?" she continued, feeling on a sudden a +strange freedom with him. "To talk of dogs and they appear? Have you +the habit when your horse falls lame of tying your dog to a tree, and +placing a sufficiency of food and water by it to last it two days?" +And then, when he did not answer her, "Who are you, M. des Voeux?" she +said in a different tone. "Whence do you come, and what is your +business?" + +"Have I not told you," he answered, "that I wish to communicate +through your brother with the Crocans? That is my business." + +"But you did not know when you came to us that I had a brother," she +replied, "or that he had joined the Crocans, or that we were like to +be in these straits. So that you did not come for that. Why did you +come?" confronting him with clear eyes. "Are we to count you friend or +enemy? Be frank with me and I will be frank with you." + +He looked at her with the first gleam of admiration in his eyes. But +he hesitated. In the candour of a young girl who, laying aside +coquetry and advantage, speaks to a man as to a comrade there lies a +charm new to him who has not known a sister; more new to him, +more surprising to him whose wont has lain among the women of a +court--women whose light lives and fickle ambitions mark them of those +who are but just freed from the seraglio. He smiled at her, openly +acknowledging by his silence and his air that he had a secret; +acknowledging also, and in the same way, that he held her equal. But +he shook his head. "In a little time I will be frank with you, +mademoiselle," he said. "It is true I have a secret, and at this +moment I cannot tell it safely." + +"You do not trust me?" + +"I trust no one at this moment," he answered steadily. + +It was not the answer she expected. She had thought he would quibble. +She was impressed by his firmness, but she did not betray the feeling. +"Good!" she said, with the least possible lifting of her head. "Then +you must not expect to be trusted, or that I shall bring you to my +brother." + +"But you promised, mademoiselle." + +"That I would do so when I could do so--safely," she retorted with +mischievous emphasis. "It is your own word, sir, and I shall not feel +that I can do so--safely--until I learn who you are. I suppose if my +brother were here you would tell him?" + +"Possibly." + +Her colour rose. "You would tell him, and you will not tell me!" she +cried indignantly. + +"Now you are angry," he replied smiling. "How can I appease you?" + +She was not really angry. But she turned on her heel, willing to let +him think it. "By hiding yourself until this is over," she answered. +And leaving him standing on the bridge, where he had found her, +she made her way back to the house, where the only man left was +Solomon in his hutch beside the gate. He was an old servant, a +garrulous veteran of high renown for the enormous fables he had ever +on his lips--particularly when the Vicomte reverted to the greatness +of the house before Coutras. Mademoiselle as she entered paused to +speak to him. "Have you seen a strange dog, Solomon?" she asked. + +"This morning, my lady?" he exclaimed in his shrill voice. "Strange +dog? No, not I! Has one frightened you? Dog? Few dogs I see these sad +days," he continued, with a gesture scornful of the present. "Dogs, +indeed? Times were when we had packs for everything, for boars, and +wolves, and deer, and hares, and vermin, and"--pausing in sheer +inability to think of any other possible pack--"ay, each a pack, and +more to them than I could ever count, or the huntsman either!" + +"Yes, I know, Solomon. I have heard you say so at least. But you have +not seen a strange dog this morning?" + +"The morn! No, no, my lady! But last night I mind one--was't a +deer-hound?" + +"Yes, a deer-hound." + +"Well, then, I can tell you," with a mysterious nod, "and no one else. +It was with the riders who brought the young lady. But I'm mum," +winking. "Not a word will they get out of me. Secrets? Ay, I'm the man +can keep a secret. Why, I remember, talking of secrets and lives--and +often they are all one----" + +"But what became of the deer-hound?" she asked, ruthlessly cutting him +short. + +"Became of the dog?"--more shrilly than usual--he was a little hurt. +"Is that all you want? It went with them as brought it, I do suppose. +It didn't stop, anywise. But as I was saying about secrets--the +secrets I have kept in old days--when there was no family had so many +as ours----" + +But she was gone. She had discovered what she wanted. And she was +midway across the courtyard when the shrill sound of a hawk-whistle +caught her ear. Turning she went through the gate again, and +listened--not without a nervous feeling. Presently she could +distinguish the dull tramp of a number of horses moving on the sward, +the gay jingle of bit and spur, and mingled with these sounds the +voices of a number of persons talking at their ease. + +Warmly as the sun shone, she was aware of a shiver; of a presentiment +that gripped and chilled her. Whatever it portended, however, whatever +misfortune was in the air, the risk could not now be evaded. Already +bright patches of moving colour glanced among the trees at the end of +the approach, and steel points glittered amid the foliage, and +feathers waved gaily above the undergrowth. She had barely time to +tell Solomon to run and apprise her father of the arrival, when the +head of the cavalcade wheeled, talking and laughing, into the avenue, +and her sister, who rode in the van by the side of M. de Vlaye, espied +her standing before the gate and waved a greeting. + +Behind the Abbess rode a couple of women, one in the lay costume, +liberally interpreted, of her order, the other of the world confessed; +following close on their heels half a dozen horsemen completed the +first party. The young Abbess bore a hooded hawk on her wrist, and the +tinkle of its light silver bells mingled with the ripple of her voice +as she approached, while two or three pairs of coupled hounds ran at +her horse's heels. A little behind, separated from this select company +by an interval of two score yards, followed the main body, a troop of +some forty horse, in steel caps and corslets, with long swords +swinging, and pistols in their holsters. + +A more picturesque or more gallant company, as they swept by threes +and fours into sight between the two grey pillars and rode towards the +house under sun and shade, or a band that moved with a lordlier air, +it had been hard to find, even in those days of show and pageantry, +when men wore their fortunes on their backs. The Captain of Vlaye, +stooping his sinewy figure to his companion, well became a horse that +moved as he moved, and caracoled because he allowed it. His dark, keen +face would have been as handsome as his form but for a blemish. In +some skirmish of his youth he had lost the sight of an eye, and the +blind orb gave his face a hard look which, so his enemies said, +brought it into consonance with his character. He wore upturned +moustaches without a beard, therein departing from the mode of the +day. But his hunting-dress of white doeskin, with a fawn hat and belt, +was in the fashion, and his horse's trappings shone almost as fine as +the riding-dress of green and silver which set off his companion's +tall figure and haughty face. In first youth a nose, too like her +father's, and something over large in Odette de Villeneuve's frame, +had foreshadowed charms not of the most feminine or the first order. +But three years had supplied the carriage and the ripened and fuller +contours that made her what she now was. To-day, if it pleased her to +have at her beck one whose will was law, and whose stern manners +invited few to intimacy--and in truth her infatuation for the +successful adventurer knew no limits--he on his side found his account +in parading, where he went, a woman whose beauty exceeded even her +birth, and fell little short of her pride. + +And she was content; she at least aimed at no more than setting on a +safer basis the power she looked to share. It was she who, ignorant +that her brother had joined them, had mentioned to her sister Vlaye's +plan of suppressing the Crocans. That he had any other plan, that his +views rose higher than a union with herself, that he hoped by a bold +and secret stroke not only to secure what he had gained but to treble +his resources--that his ambition, passing by a Villeneuve, dared to +dream of an alliance with the ducal house of Longueville--of these +things she had, as yet, no inkling. Not a jot, not a tittle. Nor was +she likely to believe in their existence, save on evidence the +clearest and most overwhelming. + +Bonne knew more. She knew these things; and, as she went forward to +meet the party, and after greeting her sister turned to her cavalier, +the word "Welcome" stuck in her throat. She was conscious that her +cheek grew a shade paler as she forced the word, that her knees shook. +Her fear was that he would read the signs. + +Ordinarily he would not have remarked them; partly because he was +inured to meeting cowed looks, and partly because a careless +scorn--masked where the Vicomte was concerned by a veneer of +respect--was all to which he ever treated the Abbess's impoverished +family. Crook-backed brother, tongue-tied sister, and the other fool, +whose restive dislike had sometimes amused him--he held them all in +equal and supreme contempt. But to-day he had his reasons for noting +the girl more particularly; and the shadow of ill-temper that darkened +his face lifted as her timid eye and fluttering colour confirmed his +surmises. + +"I thank you, I will not alight," he replied. "Your father is coming +to the gate? M. le Vicomte is too kind, mademoiselle. But that being +so, I will await him here." + +The Abbess, with an air of patronage, touched Bonne's hair with the +tip of her riding-switch. "Child, did you sleep in your clothes last +night?" she said. "Or are you making hay with the kitchen-maids? See +her blush, M. de Vlaye! What would you give me if I could blush as +naively?" And her eyes rallied him, seeking a compliment in his. "But +Abbesses who have been to Court----" + +"Carry a court wherever they go," he replied. But his look did not +leave Bonne's face. The Abbess's women and the rest of the company had +drawn rein out of earshot, their horses making long necks that they +might reach the grass, or poking their heads to crop a tender shoot. +"I cannot alight," he continued, "for we are on an adventure, +mademoiselle. I might almost say a pursuit." + +"Do you know, child," her sister chimed in, "that Mademoiselle de +Rochechouart never came to me last night? But you know nothing +here--even, I daresay, that I expected her. How should you? You might +as well live in a hole in the ground." + +"She never came?" Bonne faltered, for the sake of saying something. +The blush had subsided, leaving her paler than before. + +"No, did I not say so? And she has not arrived today," the Abbess +continued, flicking her horse's mane with her jewelled switch. "But +some of her people were in by daylight this morning--from Heaven knows +where--some hiding-place in the woods, I believe--making such a to-do +as you would not credit. If they are to be believed, they were +attacked near nightfall by the Crocans----" + +"By the Crocans," M. de Vlaye repeated, nodding darkly at Bonne. He +knew more than the Abbess knew of Charles's desperate venture. + +"And M. de Vlaye," the Abbess continued, speaking in the negligent +fashion, a trifle distant, in which she always addressed her family in +his presence, "has most kindly sent out parties in search of her. +Moreover, as I came this way on the same errand, he fell in with me, +and came on--more, I believe, for her sake than mine"--with a look +that called for contradiction--"to make inquiries in this direction. +But on the way--but here is my father. Good morning, sir. M. de +Vlaye----" + +"Has been waiting some time, I fear," the Vicomte said hurriedly. He, +too, was not free from embarrassment, but he hid it with fair success. +"Why do you not alight and enter, my dear?" + +"Because we have business, by your leave, sir," Vlaye answered, his +politeness scarcely covering an undertone of meaning. And he told in a +few words--while Bonne stood listening in an agony of suspense--what +the Abbess had told her. "Fortunately, after I fell in with your +daughter this morning," he proceeded, "I had news of the Countess. And +where do you think, M. le Vicomte, we are told that she is?" he +continued. + +Fortunately the Vicomte, whose hands were beginning to tremble, +and whose colour was mounting to his wrinkled cheek, could not +immediately find his voice. It was his elder daughter who took on +herself to answer. "Where do you think, sir?" she cried gaily. "In +your hay-meadows--so M. de Vlaye says." + +"Mademoiselle de Rochechouart? In my hay-meadows?" the Vicomte +faltered. + +"Yes." + +"In my hay-meadows? It cannot be." + +"It is so--or so we are told." + + + + + CHAPTER VI. + + IN THE HAY-FIELD. + + +The Vicomte gasped; it was evident, it was certain, that M. de Vlaye +knew all. What was he to say, what to do? While Bonne, though her ear +hung upon his reply, was conscious only of a desperate search, a wild +groping, after some method of giving the alarm to those whom it +concerned--to Charles lurking in the barn beside the water, to the +Countess making hay for sport and thinking no evil. She had heard of a +woman who in such a strait sent a feather which put quick wits on the +alert. But she had no feather, she had nothing, and if she had, at her +first word of withdrawing M. de Vlaye, she knew, would interpose. At +last-- + +"It must be!" the Vicomte exclaimed, taking anew line with some +presence of mind. "But I would not believe it!" + +"It must be? what must be, sir?" his daughter Odette rejoined. + +"It must be the Countess!" the Vicomte repeated in a tone of surprise +and conviction, not ill feigned. He saw that to persist in denying the +truth--with the hayfield in sight--would not serve, and in the end +must cover him with confusion. "Dressed in that fashion," he +continued, "and with no attendant save one rough clown, I--I could not +credit her story. The Countess of Rochechouart! It seems incredible +even now!" + +"Yes, the Countess of Rochechouart," M. de Vlaye replied in a tone +which proved that the Vicomte's sudden frankness did not deceive him. +"With your permission we will wait on her, M. le Vicomte," he +continued in the same tone, "and as soon as horses can be provided, I +will escort her to a place of safety." + +The Vicomte's face was a study of perplexity. "If you will alight," he +said, slowly, "I will send and announce to the Countess--if Countess +she really be--that you are here." + +For an instant Bonne's heart stood still. If M. de Vlaye dismounted +and entered, all things were possible. But the hope was dashed to the +ground forthwith. "I thank you," Vlaye answered somewhat grimly, "but +with your permission, M. le Vicomte, to business first. We will go to +the meadows at once. It is not fitting that the Countess should be +left for a minute longer than is necessary in a place so ill guarded. +And, for the matter of that, things lost once are sometimes lost +twice." + +The Vicomte's nose twitched with rage; he was not a meek man. He +understood M. de Vlaye's insinuation, he knew that M. de Vlaye knew; +but he was helpless. On the threshold of his own house, on the spot +where his ancestors' word had been law for generations--or a blow had +followed the word--he stood impotent before this clever, upstart +soldier who held him at mercy. And this the Abbess, had her affection +for him been warm or her nature delicate, must have felt. Without a +word spoken or a syllable of explanation, she must have perceived that +she was witnessing her family's shame, and that her part in the scene +was not with them. + +But she, of them all, was the most in the dark, and her thoughts were +otherwise bent. "You are very fearful for the young lady, M. de +Vlaye," she said, turning to him, and speaking in a tone of mock +offence. "I do not remember that you have ever been so over careful +for me." + +He bent his head and muttered something of which her sister caught not +a word. Then, "But we must not waste time," he continued briskly. "Let +us--with the Vicomte's permission--to the field! To the field!" And he +turned his horse as he spoke into the sled-road that led around the +courtyard wall; and by a gesture he bade his men follow. It was +evident to Bonne, evident to her father, that he had had a spy on the +house, and knew where his quarry harboured. + +The girl wondered whether by flying through the house and dropping +from the corner of the garden wall she could even now give the alarm. +Then M. le Vicomte spoke. "I will come with you," he said in a surly +tone that betrayed his sense of his position. "The times are indeed +out of joint, and persons out of their places, but--Solomon, my staff! +Daughter," to the Abbess, "a hold of your stirrup-leather! It is but a +step, and I can still walk so far. If the field be unsafe for the +guest,"--he added grimly--"it is fit the host should share the +danger." + +Bonne could have blessed him for the thought, for his offer bound the +party to a walking pace, and something might happen. Vlaye, beyond +doubt, had the same thought. But without breaking openly with the +Vicomte--which for various reasons he was loth to do--he could not +reject his company nor outpace him. + +He raised no objection, therefore, and in displeased silence the +Vicomte walked beside his daughter's horse, Bonne accompanying him on +the other hand. She knew more than he, and had reason to fear more; +she was almost sick with anxiety. But he, perhaps, suffered more. +Forced on his own ground to do that which he did not wish to do, +forced to play a sorry farce, he felt, as he trudged in the van of the +party, that he walked the captive in a Roman triumph. And he could +have smitten the Captain of Vlaye across the face. + +They passed only too quickly from the shelter of the house to the open +meadows and the hot sunshine, and so over the stone bridge. Bonne knew +that at this point they must become visible to the workers in the +hay-field, and she counted on an interval of a few minutes during +which the fugitives might take steps to hide themselves, or even to +get over the river and bury themselves in the woods. She could have +cried, therefore, when, without apparent order, a party from the +rear cantered past the leaders and, putting their horses into a sharp +hand-gallop, preceded them in their advance upon the panic-stricken +haymakers, in the midst of whom they drew rein in something less than +a minute. + +The Vicomte halted as the meaning of the man[oe]uvre broke upon him, +and, striking his staff into the ground, he followed them with his +eyes. "You seem fearful indeed," he growled, his high nose wrinkled +with anger. + +"Things happen very quickly at times," Vlaye answered, ignoring the +tone. + +"Take care, sir, take care!" the Abbess of Vlaye cried, addressing her +lover. She little thought in her easy insouciance how near the truth +she was treading. "If you show yourself so very anxious for the +Countess's safety, I warn you I shall grow jealous." + +"You have seen her," M. de Vlaye answered in a low tone, meant only +for her ear; and he hung slightly towards her. "You know how little +cause you have to fear." + +"Fear?" the Abbess retorted rather sharply. "Know, sir," with a quick +defiant glance, "that I fear no one!" + +Apparently the handful of riders who had preceded the main body had no +order but to stand guard over the workers. For having halted in the +midst of the startled servants, who gazed on them in stupefaction, +they remained motionless in their saddles. Meanwhile the Vicomte, with +a surly face, was drawing slowly up to them. When no more than thirty +or forty paces divided the two parties, the leader of the van wheeled +about, and trotting to M. de Vlaye's side, saluted him. + +"I do not see them, my lord," he muttered in a low tone. + +The captain of Vlaye reined in his horse, and sitting at ease, cast an +eagle glance over the terrified haymakers, who had instinctively +fallen into three or four groups. In one part of the field the hay had +been got into heaps, but these were of small size, and barely adequate +to the hiding of a child. Nevertheless, look where he would--and his +lowering brow bespoke his disappointment--he could detect no one at +all resembling a Countess. A moment, and his glance passed from the +open meadow to the ruined buildings, which stood on the brink of the +stream. It remained fixed on them. + +"Search that!" he said in a low tone. And raising his hand he pointed +to the old barn. "They must be there! Go about it carefully, Ampoule." + +The man he addressed turned, and summoning his party, cantered across +the sward--never so green as after mowing--towards the building. As +the riders drew near the river, Bonne could command herself no longer. +She uttered a low groan. Her face bespoke her anguish. + +M. de Vlaye did not see her face--it was turned from him--but he +caught the sound and understood it. "The sun is hot," he said in a +tone of polite irony. "You find it so, mademoiselle? Doubtless the +Countess has sought protection from it--in the barn. She will be +there, take my word for it!" + +Bonne made no reply. She could not have spoken for her life; and he +and they watched, shading their eyes from the sun, she, poor girl, +with a hand which shook. The horsemen were by this time near the end +of the building, and all but one proceeded to alight. The rest were in +the act of delivering up their reins, and one had already vanished +within the building, when in full view of the company, who were +watching from the middle of the field, a man sprang from an opening at +the other end of the barn, reached in three bounds the brink of the +stream, and even as Vlaye's shout of warning startled the field, +plunged from the bank, and was lost to sight. + +"Hola! Hola!" M. de Vlaye cried in stentorian tones, and, with his +rowels in his horse's flanks, he was away racing to the spot before +his followers had taken the alarm. The next moment they were +thundering emulously at his heels, their charge shaking the earth. +Even the men who had alighted beside the barn, and as yet knew nothing +of the evasion, saw that something was wrong, took the alarm, and +hurried round the building to the river. + +"He is there!" cried one, as they pulled up along the bank of the +stream. And the speaker, in his desire to show his zeal, wheeled his +horse about so suddenly that he well-nigh knocked down his neighbour. + +"No, there! There!" cried another. And "There!" cried a third, as the +fugitive dived, otter fashion, the willows of the stream affording him +some protection. + +Suddenly M. de Vlaye's voice rang above all. "After him!" he cried. +"After him, fools, and seize him on the other side!" + +In a twinkling three or four of the more courageous forced their +horses into the stream, and began to swim across. Sixty yards below +the spot where he had entered the water, the swimmer's head could be +seen. He was being borne on a current towards a willow-bed which +projected from the opposite bank, and offered a hiding-place. With +wild cries those who had not entered the stream followed him along the +bank, jostling and crossing one another, and marked him here and +marked him there, while the baying of the excited hounds, restrained +by their couples, filled the woods beyond the river with the fierce +music of the chase. + +Meantime the Vicomte and his younger daughter remained alone in the +middle of the meadow; for the Abbess's horse had carried her after the +others, whether she would or no, with her hawk clinging and screaming +on her sleeve. Of the two who remained, the Vicomte was in a high +rage. To be used after this fashion by his guests! To see strangers +taking the law into their own hands on his land! To be afoot while +hireling troopers spurned his own clods in his face, and all without +leave or license, all where he and his forebears had exercised the low +justice and the high for centuries! It was too much! + +"What is it? Who is it?" he cried, adding in his passion oaths and +execrations then too common. "That is not the Countess! Are they mad?" + +"It is Charles," she answered, weeping bitterly. "He was hiding there. +And he thought that they were in search of him. Oh, they will kill +him! They will kill him!" + +"Charles?" the Vicomte exclaimed, and stood turned to stone. +"Charles?" + +"Yes!" she panted. "And, oh, sir, a word! He is your son, and a word +may save him! He has done nothing--nothing that they should hunt him +like a rat!" + +But the Vicomte was another man now, moved, wrought on by Heaven knows +what devils of pride and shame. "My son!" he cried, his rage diverted. +"That my son? You lie, girl!" coarsely. "He is no son of mine. You +wander. It is some skulking Crocan they have unharboured. Son of mine? +Hiding on my land? No! You rave, girl!" + +"Oh, sir!" she panted. + +"Not a word!" He gripped her wrist fiercely and forced her to silence. +"Do you hear me? Not a word. He is no son of mine!" + +She clung to him, still imploring him, still trying to soften him. But +he shook her off, roughly, brutally, raising his stick to her; and, +blinded by her tears, unable to do more, she sank to the ground and +buried her face, that she might not see, in a mass of hay. He, without +a word, turned his back on her, on the crowd beside the river, on the +groups of frightened haymakers--turned his back on all and strode away +in the direction of the chateau, with those devils of shame and pride, +which he had pampered so long, riding him hard. He had drained at last +the cup of humiliation to the dregs. He had seen his son hunted like a +beast of vermin on his own land in his presence. And his one desire +was to be gone. Rage with the cause of this last and worst disgrace +dried up all natural feeling, all thought for his flesh and blood, all +pity. He cared not whether his son lived or died. His only longing was +to escape in his own person; to be gone from the place and scene of +degradation, to set himself once more in a position, to--to be +himself! + +There are tones of the voice that in the lowest depth inspire +something of confidence. Bonne, as she lay crushed under the weight of +her misery, with the merciless sun beating down upon her neck, heard +such a tone whispering low in her ear. + +"Lie still, mademoiselle," it murmured. "Lie still! Where you are, you +are unseen, and I must speak to you. The man, whoever he is, is taken. +They have seized him." + +She tried to rise. He laid his hand on her shoulder and held her down. + +"I must go!" she gasped, still struggling to rise. "I must go! It is +my brother!" + +The Lieutenant--for he it was--muttered, it is to be feared, an oath. +"Your brother!" he said. "It is your brother, is it? Ah, if you had +trusted me! But all is not lost! Listen!" he continued urgently. "M. +de Vlaye has bidden the men who have taken him--on the farther side of +the river--to convey him along that bank to the ford, and so by the +road to Vlaye. And--will you trust me now, mademoiselle?" + +"I will, I will!" she sobbed. She showed him for one moment her +tear-stained, impassioned face. "If you will help me! If you will help +my brother!" + +"I will!" he said, and then, and abruptly, he laid his hand on her and +violently pressed her down. "Be still!" he muttered in a tone of sharp +warning. "I have no more wish to be seen by Vlaye than your brother +had!" Lying beside her, he peeped warily over the hay by which he was +partly hidden; a slight hollow in which that particular cock rested +served to shelter them somewhat, but the screen was slight. "I fear +they are coming this way," he continued, his voice not quite steady. +"I would I had my horse here, and sound, and I would trouble them +little. But all is not lost, all is not lost," he repeated slowly, +"till their hands are on us! Nor, may-be, even then!" + +She understood, and lay trembling and hiding her face, unable to face +this new terror. The thunder of hoofs, coming nearer and nearer, once +more shook the earth. The horsemen were returning from the river. + +"Lie low!" he repeated, more coolly. "They have spied the Countess. I +feared they would. And they are hot foot after her--so ho! And we are +saved! Yes," he continued, peeping again and more boldly, "we are +saved, I think. They have stopped her, just as Roger and her +man--clever Roger, he will make a general yet--were about to pass her +over the bridge. Another minute and they had got her to cover in the +house, and it had been my fate to be taken." + +She did not answer, her agitation was too great. And after a brief +silence during which the Lieutenant watched what went forward at the +end of the meadow: "Now, mademoiselle," he said in a more gentle tone, +"it is for the Countess I want your help. I will answer for your +brother. If no accident befall him he shall be free before many hours +are over his head. Remember that! But with Mademoiselle de +Rochechouart--if she be once removed to Vlaye, and cast into this +man's power, it will go hard. She is a child, little able to resist. +Do you go to her, support her, speak for her, fight for her even--only +gain time. Gain time! He will not resort to violence at once, or I am +mistaken. He will not drag her away by force until he has exhausted +all other means. He will suffer her to stay awhile if you play your +part well. And you must play it well!" + +"I will!" Bonne cried, all her forces rallied by hope. "I do not know +who you are, but save my brother----" + +"I will save him!" + +"And I will bless you!" + +"Do you save the Countess, and she will bless you!" he answered +cheerfully. "Now to her, mademoiselle, and do not leave her. Go! Show +yourself as brave there as here, and----" + +He did not finish the sentence, but as she rose his hand, through some +accident, or some impulse that surprised him--for such weaknesses were +not in his nature--met hers through the hay and clasped it. The girl +reddened to the brow, sprang up, and in a trice was hastening across +the field towards the crowd that in a confused medley of horse and +foot, peasants and troopers, was gathered about the stone bridge which +spanned the brook. The sun beat hotly down on the little mob, but in +the interest of the scene which was passing in their midst no one +thought twice of the heat. + +Bonne's spirits were in a tumult. She hardly knew what she thought or +how she felt, or what she was going to do. + +But one thing she knew. On one thing she set her foot with every step, +and that was fear. A new courage, and a new feeling, filled the girl +with an excitement half-painful, half-delightful. Whence this was she +did not ask herself, nor why she rested so confidently on the +guarantee of her brother's safety, which an untried stranger had given +her. It was enough that he had given it. She did not go beyond that. + +When she came, hot and panting, to the skirts of the crowd, she found +that she must push her way between the horses of the troopers if she +would see anything of what was passing. In the act she noticed that +half the men were grinning, the others exchanging sly looks and winks. +But she was through at last. Now she could see what was afoot. + +On the bridge, three paces before her, stood M. de Vlaye with his back +to her. He had dismounted, and had his hat in his hand. Beyond him, +standing at bay, as it seemed, against the low side wall of the +bridge, was the Countess, her small face white, and puckered, and +sullen, and behind her again stood Roger, and Fulbert, the steward, +with a wild-beast glare in his eyes. + +"Surely, mademoiselle," Bonne heard M. de Vlaye say in honeyed +accents, as she emerged from the crowd, "surely it were better you +mounted here----" + +"No!" + +"And rode to the chateau. And then at your leisure----" + +"No, I thank you. I will walk." + +"But, Countess, you are not safe," he persisted, "on foot and in the +open, after what has passed." + +"Then I will go to the chateau," she replied, "but I can walk, I thank +you." It was strange to see the firmness, ay, and dignity, that awoke +in her in this extremity. + +"That, of course," M, de Vlaye replied lightly. "Of course. But seeing +the Abbess on horseback, I thought that you might prefer to ride with +her----" + +"It is but a step." + +"And I am walking," Bonne struck in, pushing to the front. "I will go +with the Countess to the house." She spoke with a firmness which +surprised herself, and certainly surprised M. de Vlaye, who had not +seen her at his elbow. He hesitated, and partly in view of the +Countess's attitude, partly of the fact that he had not precisely +defined his next step if he got her mounted--he gave way. + +"By all means," he said. "And we will form your guard." + +Bonne passed her arm round the young Countess. "Come," she said. "I +see my sister has preceded us to the house. The sun is hot, and the +sooner we are under cover the better." + +It was not the heat of the sun, however, that had driven the Abbess +from the scene, but a spirit of temper. She had no suspicion of the +truth--as yet. But the fuss which M. de Vlaye seemed bent on making +about the little countess piqued her, and after looking on a minute or +two, and finding herself still left in the background, she had let her +jealousy have vent, had struck spur to her horse and ridden back to +the house in a rage. This was the last thing she would have done had +her eyes been open. Had she guessed how welcome to her admirer her +retreat at that moment was, she would have risked a hundred sunstrokes +before she went! + +She had no notion of the real situation, however, and Bonne, who had, +and with a woman's wit saw in her a potent ally, was too late to call +her back, though she longed to do it. Between the bridge and the +house-gate lay three hundred yards, every yard, it seemed to Bonne, a +yard of peril to her charge; and the girl nerved herself accordingly. +For Vlaye's darkening face sufficiently declared his perplexity. At +any instant, at any point, he might throw off the mask of courtesy, +use force, and ride off with his prey. And what could she do? + +Only with a brave face walk slowly, slowly, talking as she went! +Talking and making believe to be at ease; repressing both the +treacherous flutter of her own heart and the little Countess's +tendency to start at every movement M. de Vlaye made--as the lamb +starts when the wolf bares its teeth! Bonne felt that to let him see +that they expected violence was to invite it; and though, if he made a +movement to seize her companion, she was prepared to cling and scream +and fight with her very nails--she knew that such methods were the +last desperate resource, to resort to which portended defeat. + +He walked abreast of them, his rein on his arm, his haughty head bent. +A little behind them on the left side walked Roger and the Countess's +steward. Behind these again, at a short distance, followed the mob of +troopers, grinning and nudging one another, and scarce deigning to +hide their amusement. + +Bonne guessed all, yet she talked bravely. "It is quite an adventure!" +she said brightly. "We did but half believe it, M. de Vlaye! Until you +told us, we thought mademoiselle must be romancing. That she could not +be--oh, no, it seemed impossible that she could be the real Countess!" + +"Indeed?" M. de Vlaye answered, measuring with his keen eye the +distance to the corner of the courtyard. The girl's chatter +embarrassed him. He could not weigh quite coolly the chances and the +risks. + +"It was after nine o'clock--yes, it must have been nearer midnight!" +Bonne continued, with that woman's power of dissembling which puts +men's acting to shame. "It was quite an alarm when she came! We +thought we were to be robbed." + +"It is for that reason," Vlaye said smoothly, "I wish the Countess to +be placed in safety." + +"Or that it was the Crocans----" + +"Precisely--it might have been. And therefore I wish her to place +herself without delay----" + +"In proper clothes!" Bonne exclaimed cheerfully. "Of course! So she +must, M. de Vlaye, and this minute! To think of the Countess of +Rochechouart"--she laughed, and affectionately drew the girl nearer to +her--"making hay in a waiting-woman's clothes! No wonder that she did +not wish to be seen!" + +M. de Vlaye looked at the chatterer askance, and mechanically gnawed +his moustache. He believed, nay, he was almost sure that she knew all +and was playing with him. If so she was playing so successfully that +here they were at the corner of the courtyard and he no nearer a +decision. They had but to pass along one wall, turn, and in forty +paces they would be at the gate. He must make up his mind promptly, +then! And, curse her! she talked so fast that he could not bring his +mind to it, or weigh the emergencies. If he seized the girl here---- + +"Roger should not have let her try to cross the brook, M. de Vlaye, +should he?" Bonne babbled. "He should have known better. Now she has +wet her feet and must change her shoes! Yes," playfully, "you must, +mademoiselle." + +"I will," the Countess muttered with shaking lips. + +One of the troopers who had been of the expedition the day before, and +whom the situation tickled, laughed on a sudden outright. M. de Vlaye +half halted, turned and looked back in wrath. Was he going to give the +signal? Bonne's arm shook. But no, he turned again. And they were +almost at the second corner; now they turned it, and her eyes sought +the gate greedily, to learn who awaited them there. If the Vicomte was +there, and her sister, it was so much in her favour. He would hardly +dare to carry the girl off by force under their eyes. + +But they were not there. Even Solomon was invisible; probably he had +taken the Abbess's horse to the stable. Bonne was left to her own +resources, therefore, to her own wits; and at the gate, at the moment +of interest, at the last moment, the pinch would come. + +And still, but with a dry throat, she talked. "To leave the sun for +the shade!" she cried with a prodigious sigh as the western wall of +the courtyard intervened and protected them from the sun's heat. "Is +it not delightful! It was almost worth while to be so hot, to feel so +cool! Are you cool, M. de Vlaye?" + +"Yes," he replied grimly, "but----" + + + "Sommes-nous au milieu du bois?" + + +she sang, cutting him short--they were within seven or eight paces of +the gateway, and she fancied that his face was growing hard, that she +detected the movements of a man preparing to make his leap-- + + + "Sommes-nous a la rive? + Sommes-nous au milieu du bois? + Sommes-nous a la rive? + + +_A la rive? A la rive!_" she chanted, her arm closing more tightly +about the Countess. "_A la rive!_" + +With the last word--_Pouf!_--she thrust the child towards the open +gateway, and by the same movement dropped on her knees in front of M. +de Vlaye, completely thwarting his first instinctive impulse, which +was to snatch at the Countess. "It is my pin!" she cried, rising as +quickly as she had knelt--the whole seemed but one movement. "Pardon, +M. de Vlaye," she continued, but by that time the Countess was twenty +paces away, and half-way across the court. "Did I interrupt you? How +lucky to find it! I must have lost it yesterday!" + +He did not speak, but his eyes betrayed his rage--rage not the less +that his men had witnessed and understood the man[oe]uvre; nay, dared +by a titter to betray their amusement. For an instant he was tempted +to seize her and crush the cursed pride out of her--he to be outwitted +before his people by a woman! Or why should he not take her a hostage +in the other's room? + +Then he remembered that he needed no hostage; he had one already. In a +voice that drove the blood from her cheeks, "Take care! Take care, +mademoiselle!" he muttered. "Sometimes one pays too much for such a +trifle as a pin. You might have hurt yourself, stooping so suddenly! +Or hurt--your brother!" + +Roger could no longer keep silence. "I can take care of myself, M. de +Vlaye," he said, "and of my sister also, I would have you know." + +But M. de Vlaye had himself in hand again. "It was not to you I +referred," he said coldly and contemptuously. "Take me to your +father." + +They found the Vicomte awaiting them on the drawbridge at the farther +side of the court. But the Countess had vanished; she had not lost a +moment in hiding herself in the recesses of her room. For the first +time in their intercourse M. de Vlaye approached his host without +ceremony or greeting. + +"The Countess must come with me," he said roughly and roundly. "She +cannot stay here. This place," with a look of naked scorn, "is no +place for her. Give orders, if you please, that she prepare to +accompany me." + +The Vicomte, shaken by the events of the morning, stood thunderstruck. +His hand trembled on his staff, and for a moment he could not speak. +At last-- + +"The Countess is in my care, and under my protection," he said, in a +voice shrill with emotion. + +"Neither of which would avail her in the least," M. de Vlaye answered +brutally, "in the event of danger! But it is not to enter into an +argument that I am here. I care nothing for the number of your +household, or the strength of your house, M. le Vicomte, or," with a +sneer, "what was the condition of either--before Coutras. The point +is, this is no place for one in the Countess of Rochechouart's +position. It is my duty to see her placed in a position of greater +safety, and I intend to perform that duty!" + +The Vicomte, powerless as he was, shook with passion. "Since when," he +exclaimed, "has that duty been laid upon you?" + +"It is laid on me," the Captain of Vlaye answered contemptuously, "by +the fact that there is no one else in the district who can perform +it." + +"You will perform it at your peril," the Vicomte said. + +"I shall perform it." + +"But if the Countess prefers to stay here?" Roger cried, interfering +hotly. + +"It is a question of her safety, and not of her preference," Vlaye +retorted, standing grim and cold before them. "She must come." + +A dozen of his troopers had ridden into the courtyard, and from their +saddles were watching the group on the drawbridge. The group +consisted, besides the Vicomte, of Roger and his sister, old Solomon +the porter, and the wild-looking steward. Roger, his heart bursting +with indignation, measured with his eye the distance across the +courtyard, and had thoughts of flinging himself upon Vlaye, bearing +him to the ground, and making his life the price of his men's +withdrawal. But he had no weapon, Solomon and Fulbert were in the like +case, and the Captain of Vlaye, a man in the prime of life, and armed, +was likely to prove a match for all three. + +If the Vicomte's ancestors in the pride of their day and power had +been deaf to the poor man's cry, if the justice-elm without the castle +gates had received in the centuries past the last sighs of the +innocent, if the towers of the old house had been built in groaning +and cemented with blood, some part of the debt was paid this day on +the drawbridge. To see the sacred rights of hospitality deforced, to +stand by while the guest whom he could not protect--and that guest a +woman of his rank and kind--was torn from his hearth, to be set for a +laughing-stock to this canaille of troopers--such a humiliation should +have slain the last of the Villeneuves where he stood. + +Yet the Vicomte lived--lived, it is true, with twitching lips and +shaking hands--but lived, and, after a few seconds of moody silence, +stooped to parry the blow which he could not return. + +"To-morrow--if you will wait until to-morrow," he muttered, "she may +be better prepared to--take the journey." + +"To-morrow?" + +"Yes, if you will give us till to-morrow"--reluctantly--"we may +persuade her." + +M. de Vlaye's answer was as unexpected as it was decisive. "Be it so!" +he said. "She shall have till to-morrow." He spoke more graciously, +more courteously, than he had yet spoken. "I have been--it is possible +that in my anxiety for her safety, M. le Vicomte, I have been hasty. +Once a soldier, always a soldier! Forgive me, and you, mademoiselle, +the same; and I, on my side, will say to-morrow. There, I am not +unreasonable," with a poor attempt at joviality. "Only I must leave +with you ten or a dozen troopers for her safe keeping. And beyond +to-morrow, in the present state of the country, I cannot spare them." + +At the mention of the troopers the Vicomte's jaw fell. He stared. + +"Will not that suit you?" M. de Vlaye said gaily. He had recovered his +usual spirits. He spoke in his old tone. + +"It must," the Vicomte answered sullenly. "But I could answer for her +without your troopers." + +M. de Vlaye shook his head. "Ah, no," he said. "I can say no better +than that. With the Crocans so near, and growing in boldness every +day, I am bound to be careful. I am told," with a peculiar smile, +"that some ne'er-do-wells of birth have joined them in these parts. +The worse for them!" + +"Well, be it so," the Vicomte said with a ghastly smile. "Be it so! Be +it so!" + +"Good," Vlaye answered cheerfully--he grew more at his ease with every +word. Some might have thought that he had gained all he wanted or saw +a new and easy way to it. "Good, and as I must be returning, I will +give the necessary orders at once." + +He turned as he spoke, and crossing the courtyard, conferred awhile +with Ampoule, his second in command. Hurriedly men were told off to +this hand and that, some trotting briskly under the archway--where the +hay of more peaceful days deadened the sound of hoofs, and the cobwebs +almost swept their heads--and others entering by the same road. +Presently M. de Vlaye, whose horse had been brought to him, got to his +saddle, rode a few paces nearer the drawbridge, and raised his hat. + +"I have done as you wish," he said. "Until tomorrow, M. le Vicomte! +Mademoiselle, I kiss your hands!" And wilfully blind to the coldness +of the salutation made in return, he wheeled his horse gracefully, +called a man to his side, and rode out of the court. + +The Vicomte let his chin fall upon his breast, and beyond a doubt his +reflections were of the bitterest. But soon he remembered that there +were strange eyes upon him, and he turned and went heavily into his +house, the house that others now had in keeping. Old Solomon followed +him with an anxious face, and Fulbert, ever desirous to be with his +mistress, vanished in their train. The troopers, after one or two +glances at the two who remained on the drawbridge, and a jest at which +some laughed outright and some made covert gestures of derision, began +to lead their horses into the long stable. + +Roger's eye met Bonne's in a glance of flame. "Do you see?" he said. +"He was to leave twelve--at the most. He has left eighteen. Do you +understand?" + +She shook her head. + +"I do!" he said. "I do! We may go to our prayers!" + + + + + CHAPTER VII. + + A SOLDIERS' FROLIC. + + +A few hours later the chateau of Villeneuve, buried in the lonely +woods, wore a strange and unusual aspect. + +To all things there comes an end, even to long silences and the march +of uneventful years. Summer evening after summer evening had looked +its last through darkening tree-tops on the house of Villeneuve, and +marked but a spare taper burning here and there in its recesses. +Winter evening after winter evening had fallen on the dripping woods +and listened in vain for the sounds of revelry that had once beaconed +the lost wayfarer, and held wolves doubting on the extremest edge of +pasture. Night after night for well-nigh a generation--with the one +exception of the historic night of Coutras, when the pursuers feasted +in its hall--the house had stood shadowy and silent in the dim spaces +of its clearing, and prowling beasts had haunted without fear its +threshold. A rotten branch, falling in the depth of the forest, now +scared more than its loudest orgy; nay, the dead lords, at rest in the +decaying graveyard where the Abbey had stood, made as much impression +on the night--for often the will o' the wisp burned there--as their +fallen descendants in his darkling house. + +Until this night, when the wild things of the wood saw with wonder the +glow in the tree-tops and cowered in their lairs, and the owl mousing +in the uplands beyond the river shrank from the light in the meadows, +and flew to shelter. Beside the well in the courtyard blazed such a +bonfire as frightened the sparrows from the ivy; and the wolf had been +brave indeed that ventured within half a mile of the singers, whose +voices woke the echoes of the ancient towers. + + + "Les femmes ne portent pas moustache, + Mordieu, Marion! + Les femmes ne portent pas moustache! + + C'etait des mures qu'ell' mangeait + Mon dieu, mon ami! + C'etait des mures qu'ell' mangeait!" + + +As the troopers, seated, some on the well-curb, and some on logs and +buckets, beat out the chorus, or broke off to quarrel across the +flames, a chance passer might have thought the night of the great +battle come again. Old Solomon, listening to the roar of the wood, and +watching the train of sparks fly upwards, trembled for his haystacks; +nor would the man of peace have been a coward who, looking in at the +open gate, preferred a bed in the greenwood to the peril of entrance. +The more timid of the serving-men had hidden themselves with sunset; +the dogs had fled to kennel with drooping tails. The noise was such +that but for one thing a stranger must have supposed that a mutiny was +on the point of breaking out. This was the cool demeanour of Ampoule, +M. de Vlaye's lieutenant; who with a couple of confidants sat drinking +in the outer hall, where the flames of an unwonted fire shone on torn +pennons and dusty head-pieces. When asked by Roger to reduce the men +to order, as the women could not sleep, he had shown himself offhand +to the point of insolence, curt to the point of brutality. "Have a +care of yourselves, and I'll have a care of my men!" he said. "You go +to your own!" And he would hear no more. + +The Vicomte for a while noticed none of these things. The events of +the morning had aged and shaken him, and for hours he sat speechless, +with dull eyes, thinking of God knows what--perhaps of the son he had +cast off, or of his own fallen estate, or of the peril of his guest. +In vain did Roger and his younger daughter try to rouse him from his +reverie--try to gain some counsel, some comfort from him. They could +not. But that which their timid efforts failed to effect, the rising +tempest of joviality at last and suddenly wrought. + +"Where is Solomon?" he cried, lifting his head as one awakened from +sleep. And he looked about him in great wrath. "Where is Solomon? Why +does he not put a stop to this babel? 'Sdeath, man, am I to put up +with this? Do you hear me?" looking round. "Do you want them to bring +the Abbess downstairs?" + +Bonne and Roger, who were crouching with the little Countess in one of +the two window-recesses that overlooked the courtyard, rose to go to +him. But Solomon, who had been hiding in the shadows about the door, +was before them. "To be sure, my lord, to be sure!" the old servant +said gallantly, though his troubled face and twitching beard bespoke +his knowledge of the real position. "To be sure, my lord, it is not +the first time by a many hundred the knaves have forgot themselves, +and I've had to go with a stirrup-leather and bring them to their +senses! The liquor that has run in this house"--he lifted his hands in +admiration--"'tis no wonder, my lord, it goes sometimes to the head!" + +"Go out, man! Go out and put a stop to it!" the Vicomte retorted +passionately. "Your chattering does but add to it!" + +"To be sure, my lord, I am going," Solomon answered bravely. But his +eyes asked Roger a question. "To be sure it is like old days, my lord, +and I thought that may-be you would like them to have their way a +while." + +"I should like it, fool?" + +"You might think it better----" + +"Begone!" + +"Nay," Roger said, approaching the Vicomte. "Nay, if any one goes, +sir, I must. Solomon is old, and they may mishandle him." + +"Mishandle him?" the Vicomte said, opening his eyes in astonishment. +"Mishandle my steward? My----" He broke off, his hands feeling +tremulously for the arms of his chair; he found them and sank back in +it. "I--I had forgotten!" he muttered, his head sinking on his breast. +"I had forgotten. I dreamt, and now I am awake. I dreamt," he +continued, speaking with increasing bitterness, "that I was Seigneur +and Vicomte of Villeneuve, and Baron of Vlaye! With swords at my will, +and steeds in stall, and a lusty son to take him by the beard who +crossed me! And I am a beggar! A beggar, with no son to call a son, +with no sword but that old fool's blade! Mishandle him?" gloomily. +"Ay, they may mishandle him!" he continued feebly, his head sinking +yet lower on his breast. "But there. It is over. Let them do what they +will!" + +He continued to mutter, but incoherently, and Roger, signing to +Solomon to go to his place again, slunk back to the window recess. The +lad had no hope of effecting more with Ampoule, a brutal man where +rein was given him; and he crouched once more where he could see the +dark figures carousing in the glare that reached to the range of +stables. In order that those in the room might see without being seen, +Solomon had lighted no more than two candles, and these were not +behind the window, where Roger and the two girls sat in the shadow. +They could therefore look out unchecked. + +The day had been--and not many hours past--when the lad's cheek would +have burned under the sneer just flung at him. Now, though a stranger +and a girl had heard it, he was unmoved. For petty feelings of that +kind his mind had no longer space. The conduct of the man whom +Vlaye had left on guard, the increasing disorder and babel of the +half-drunken troopers, awoke in him neither indignation nor anger, nor +astonishment, but only fear. Not a fear that unmanned him, though he +faced his first real peril, nor a fear that disarmed him, but one that +braced him to do his best, that enabled him to think, and plan, and +determine--crook-shouldered as he was--with a coolness which some day, +as des Ageaux had said, might make of him a commander of men. + +He was convinced that the men's unruliness was a thing planned and +arranged. The Captain of Vlaye had conceived the wickedness of doing +by others what he dared not do himself. The men, unless Roger was +mistaken, would pass still more out of hand; the officer would profess +himself impotent. Then, it might not be this evening, but to-morrow, +or to-morrow evening at latest, the men would burst all bounds, cast +aside respect, seize the young Countess, and bear her off. At the +ford, or where you will, Vlaye would encounter them, rescue her, and +while he gained a hold on her gratitude, would effect that which he +had shrunk from doing openly. + +It was a wicked, nay, a devilish plan, because in the course of its +execution there must come a moment when all in the house--and not the +young girl only at whom the plan was aimed--would lie at the men's +mercy. For a time the men, half-drunk, must be masters. A moment there +must be of extreme danger, threatening all, embracing all; and he, a +lad, stood alone to meet it. Alone, save for one old man; for the +Vicomte was past such work, and the servants had fled. And though +Bonne, to whom as well as to the young Countess he had disclosed his +fears, persisted in the hope of rescue, and based that hope on their +strange guest's promise, he had little or no hope. + +As he crouched with the two girls in the dark window recess, he faced +the danger coolly, though the scene was one to depress an older heart. +The scanty rays of the two candles which lighted a small part of the +chamber fell full on the Vicomte, where he sat sunk low in his chair, +a shiver passing now and again over his inert and feeble limbs. The +only figure visible against the gloomy, dust-coloured hangings, he +seemed the type of a race fallen hopelessly; his features, once +imperious, hung flaccid, his hands clung weakly to the arms of his +chair. He was capable still of one brief, foolish outburst, one +passionate stroke; but no help or wise counsel could be expected from +him. He was astonishingly aged in one day; even his power to wound the +mind seemed near its end. + +In contrast with that drooping figure, seated amid the shadows of the +room in which generations of Villeneuves had lorded it royally, the +scene without struck with an appalling sense of virility. The lusty +troopers lolling in the hot blaze of the bonfire, on which one or +another constantly flung fresh wood, and now roaring out some +gutter-stave, now flinging coarse badinage hither and thither, were +such as years of license and cruel campaigning had made them; men such +as it took a Vlaye or a Montluc to curb. And had the lad who watched +them with burning eyes and a beating heart lacked one jot of the +perfect courage, he had as soon thought of pitting himself against +them as of raising dead bones to life. + +But he had that thought, and even planned and plotted as he watched +them. "Where is Odette?" he asked in a whisper. He had Bonne's hand in +his, her other arm held the Countess to her. "They may be afraid of +her. If she spoke to the officer, he might listen to her." + +"She will not believe there is danger," Bonne answered with something +like a sob. "She will not hear a word. I began to explain about the +Countess and she flew into a passion. She has shut herself up and says +that we are all mad, stark mad from living alone, and afraid of our +shadows. And she and her women have shut themselves up in her chamber. +I have been to the door twice, but she will hear nothing." + +"She will hear too much by and by!" Roger muttered. + +Then a thing happened. The light cast by the bonfire embraced, it has +been said, the whole of the courtyard. The men, confident in their +strength, had left the gate open. As Roger ceased to speak, a single +horseman emerged, silent as a spectre, from the low gateway, and +advancing at a foot-pace three or four steps, drew rein, and gazed in +astonishment at the scene of hilarity presented to him. + +The three at the window were the first to see him. Roger's hand closed +on his sister's; hers, so cold a moment before, grew on a sudden hot. +"Who is it?" Roger muttered. "Who is it?" The court, which sloped a +little from the house, was wide, but it might have been narrow and +still he had asked, for the stranger wore--it was no uncommon fashion +in those days--a mask. It was a slender thing, hiding only the upper +part of the face, but it sufficed. "Who is it?" Roger repeated. + +"M. des Voeux!" Bonne answered involuntarily. In their excitement the +three rose to their feet. + +Whether it were M. des Voeux or not, the masked man seemed in two +minds about advancing. He had even turned his horse as if he would go +out again, when some of the revellers espied him, and on the instant a +silence, broken only by the crackling of the logs, and as striking as +the previous din, proclaimed the fact. + +The change seemed to encourage the stranger to advance. As he wheeled +again and paced nearer, the men who sat on the farther side of the +fire from him, and for that reason could not see him, rose and stood +gaping at him through the smoke. He moved nearer to the outer ring. + +"Who lives here, my good people?" he asked in a voice peculiarly sweet +and clear; his tone smacked even a little womanish. + +One of the men stifled a drunken laugh. Another turned, and after +winking at his neighbours--who passed the joke round--advanced a pace +or two, uncovered elaborately and bowed with ceremony to match. "M. le +Vicomte de Villeneuve, if it please you, my lord--I should say your +excellency!" with another low bow. + +"Curse on it!" the stranger exclaimed. + +The men's spokesman stared an instant, taken aback by the unexpected +rejoinder. Then, aware that his reputation among his fellows was +at stake, he recovered himself. "Did your excellency, my lord +duke"--another delighted chuckle among the men--"please to speak?" + +"Go and tell him I am here," the masked man answered, disregarding +their horse-play; and he released his feet from the stirrups. The +window of the dining-hall was open, and the three at it could mark him +well, and hear every word of the dialogue. + +"If your excellency--would enter?" the man rejoined with the same +travesty of politeness. "The Vicomte would not wish you, I am sure, to +await his coming." + +"Very good. And do you, fellow, tell him that I crave the favour of a +night's lodging. That I am alone, and my--but the rest I will tell him +myself!" + +The troopers nudged one another. "Go, Jasper," said the spokesman +aloud, "and carry his excellency's commands to M. le Vicomte. Your +horse, my lord duke, shall be taken care of! This way, if it please +you my lord duke! And do some of you," turning, and making, unseen by +the stranger, the motion of turning a key--"bring lights! Lights to +the west tower, do you hear?" + +The faces of the three within the window were pressed against the +panes. "Who can he be?" Bonne muttered. "They call him----" + +"They are fooling him!" Roger replied In wrath. "They know no more who +he is than we do! He is not des Voeux. He has not his height, and not +half his width. But what," angrily, "are they doing now? Where are +they taking the man? Why are they taking him to the old tower?" + +Why indeed? + +Instead of conducting the guest over the bridge which led to the +inhabited part of the house, the trooper, attended by four or five of +his half-drunken comrades, was ushering him with ceremony to the +lesser bridge which led to the western tower; the ground floor of +which, a cold damp dungeon-like place, was used as a wood store. It +had been opened a few hours before, that fagots might be taken from +it, and this circumstance had perhaps suggested the joke to the prime +conspirator. + +"Lights are coming, my lord duke!" he said, taking a flaring brand +from one of his comrades and holding it aloft. He was chuckling +inwardly at the folly of the stranger in swallowing his egregious +titles without demur. "The Vicomte shall be told. Beware of the step, +my lord!" lowering his light that the other might see it. They were on +the threshold now, and he pushed open the door that already stood +ajar. "The step is somewhat awkward, your excellency! We have to go +through the--it is somewhat old-fashioned, but craving your +excellency's pardon for bringing you this way--Yah!" + +With the word a sudden push thrust the unsuspecting stranger forward. +Involuntarily he stumbled, tripped and with a cry of rage found +himself on his hands and knees among the fagots. Before he could rise +the door clanged horridly on him, the key grated in the lock, he was +in darkness, a prisoner! + +The men, reckless and half-drunk, roared with delight at the jest. +"Welcome, my lord duke!" the ringleader cried, holding aloft his +light, and bowing to the ground before the thick oaken door. "Welcome +to Villeneuve!" + +"Welcome!" cried the others, waving their lights, and clutching one +another in fits of laughter. "Welcome to Villeneuve! A good night to +you! An appetite to your supper, my lord duke!" + +So they gibed awhile. Then, beginning to weary of it, they turned and, +still shaking with laughter, discovered an addition to their party: +Roger stood before them, his eyes glittering with excitement. The lad +had not been able to look on and see the trick played on a guest; the +more as that guest represented his one solitary, feeble hope of help. +The men might still be sober enough to listen; at any rate he would +try. Much against their wills he had broken away from the girls. He +was here. + +"Open that door!" he said. + +The man to whom he spoke, the ringleader, looked almost as much +astonished as he was. The others ceased to laugh, and waited to see +what would happen. + +"That door?" the man concerned answered slowly as soon as he could +bring his thoughts to bear on the emergency. + +"Yes, that door!" Roger cried imperiously, all the Villeneuve in him +rising to the surface. "And instantly, fellow!" + +"So be it, if you will have it so," the man replied, shrugging his +shoulders. "But it was only a jest, and----" + +"There is enough of the jest, and too much!" Roger retorted. He spoke +so bravely that not a man remembered his crooked shoulders. "Open, I +say!" + +The man shook his head. "Best not," he said. + +"It shall be done!" + +"Well, you can open, if you please," the man replied. "But I am M. de +Vlaye's man and take orders nowhere else!" And with an insolent +gesture he flung the key on the ground. + +To punish him for his insolence, when they were a score to one, was +impossible. Roger took up the key, set it in the lock, turned, opened, +and, tricked in his turn, plunged head first into the darkness, +impelled by a treacherous thrust from behind. Crash! The door was shut +on him. + +But he knew naught of that. As he fell forward a savage blow from the +front, from the darkness, hurled him breathless against a pile of +fagots. At the same moment a voice cried in his ear, "There is one is +spent, Deo Laus!" A hand groped for him, a foot was set hard against +him, and something wrenched at his clothes. + +"Why," quoth the same voice a second later--the darkness was almost +perfect--"did I not run the rascal through?" + +"No!" Roger said, and as the stranger's sword, which had only passed +through his clothes, was dragged clear, he nimbly shifted his place. +"And I beg you will not," he continued hurriedly. "I was coming to +your aid, and those treacherous dogs played the same trick on me!" +"Then who are you?" + +"I am Roger de Villeneuve, my father's son." + +"Then it _is_ Villeneuve, this place? They did not lie in that?" + +"No, it is Villeneuve, but these scoundrels are Vlaye's people," Roger +answered. He was in the depths of despair, for the girls were alone +now and unprotected. "They are in possession here," he continued, +almost weeping. "M. de Vlaye----" + +"The Captain of Vlaye, do you mean?" + +"Yes. He tried to seize the Countess of Rochechouart as she passed +this way yesterday. She took refuge here and he did not dare to drag +her away. So he left these men to guard her, as he said; but really to +carry her off as soon as they should be drunk enough to venture on +it." Poor Roger's voice shook. He was lamenting his folly, his +dreadful folly, in leaving the women. + +The stranger took the news, as was natural, after a different fashion, +and one strange enough. First he swore with a deliberate fluency that +shocked the country lad; and then he laughed with a light-hearted +joyousness that was still more alien from the circumstances. "Well, it +is an adventure!" he cried. "It is an adventure! And for what did I +come? To the fool his folly! And one fool makes many! But do you +think, my friend," he continued, speaking in a different strain, "that +they will carry off the Countess while we lie here?" + +Roger, raging in the dark, had no other thought. "Why not?" he cried. +"Why not? And there are other women in the house." He groaned. + +"Young?" + +"Yes, yes." + +"And one of them--lovely?" There was amusement in the stranger's tone. + +"One of them is my sister," Roger retorted fiercely. And for an +instant the other was silent. + +Then, "With what attendance?" he asked. "Whom have they with them that +you can trust?" + +"The Countess's steward and one old man. And my father, but he is old +also." + +"Pheugh!" the stranger whistled. "An adventure indeed!" From the sound +of the fagots it seemed that he was moving. "We must out of this," he +said, "and to the rescue! But how? There is no other door than the one +by which we entered?" + +"There is one, but the key is lost, and it has not been opened for +years." + +"Then we must go out as we came in," the stranger answered gaily. "But +how? But how? Let me think! Let me think, lad!" + +The smell of damp earth mingled with rotting wood pervaded the +darkness in which they stood. They could not see one another, but at a +certain height from the ground a shaft of reddish light pierced the +gloom and disclosed about a foot of the cobweb vault above them. This +light entered through an arrow-slit which looked toward the bonfire, +and apparently it suggested a plan, for presently the stranger could +be heard stumbling and groping towards it. + +"You cannot go out that way!" Roger said. + +"No, but I can get them in!" the other answered drily, and from +certain noises which came to his ear Roger judged that the man was +piling wood under the opening that he might climb to it. He succeeded +by-and-by; his head and shoulders became darkly visible at the +window--if window that could be called which was but a span wide. + +"There is some one in command?" he asked. "Who is it? His name, my +friend?" And when Roger, who fortunately remembered Ampoule's name, +had told him: "Do you pile," he said, "some wood behind the door, so +that it cannot be opened to the full or too quickly. It is only to +give us time to transact the punctilios." + +Roger complied. He hoped--but with doubt--that the man was not mad. He +supposed that out in the world men were of these odd and surprising +kinds. The Lieutenant had impressed him. This strange man, who after +coming within an ace of killing him jested, who laughed and blasphemed +in a breath, and who was no sooner down than he was up, impressed him +more vividly, though differently. And was to impress him still +more. For when he had set the wood behind the door, the unknown, +raised on his pile of fagots, thrust his face into the opening of the +arrow-slit, and in a shrill voice of surprising timbre began to pour +on the ill-starred Ampoule a stream of the grossest and most injurious +abuse. Amid stinging gibes and scalding epithets, and words that +blistered, the name rang out at intervals only to sink again under the +torrent of vile charges and outrageous insinuations. The lad's ears +burned as he listened; burned still more hotly as he reflected that +the girls might be within hearing. As for the men at the fire, twenty +seconds saw them silent with amazement. Their very laughter died out +under that steady stream of epithets, for any one of which a man of +honour must have cut his fellow's throat. A moment or two passed in +this stark surprise; still the voice, ever attaining lower depths of +abuse, went on. + +At length, whether some one told him or he heard it himself, the +lieutenant came out, and, flushed with drink, listened for a while +incredulous. But when he caught his name, undoubtedly his name, +"Ampoule! Ampoule!" again and again, and the tale was told him, and he +began to comprehend that in the tower was a man who dared to say of +him, Vlaye's right hand in many a dark adventure, of him who had cut +many a young cock's comb--to say of him the things he heard--he stood +an instant in the blaze of the fire and bellowed like a bull. + +"His own sister, fifteen years old," the pitiless voice repeated. +"Sold her to a Spanish Jew and divided the money with his mother!" + +Ampoule's mouth opened wide, but this time breath failed him. He +gasped. + +"And being charged with it at Fontarabie," continued the voice, "as he +returned, showed the white feather before four men at the inn, who +took him and dipped him in a dye vat." + +"Son of a dog!" Ampoule shrieked, getting his voice at last. "This is +too much! This is----" + +"Why, he never bullies when he is unsupported!" his tormentor went on. +"But a craven he has always been when put to it! If he be not, let him +say it now, and face me in a ring!" + +The exasperated man ground his teeth and flung out his arms. "Face +you!" he roared. "You! You! Face me, and I will cut out your heart!" + +"Fine talk! Fine talk!" came the answer. "So you have said many a time +and run! Meet me in a ring, foot to foot and fairly, in your shirt!" + +"I'll meet you!" the lieutenant answered passionately. "I'll meet you, +fool of the world. Little you know whom you have bearded. You must be +mad; but mad or not, say your prayer, for 'twill be the last time!" + +There was a momentary pause. Then "Promise me a ring and fair-play!" +cried the high, delicate voice, "and a clear way of escape if I kill +you!" + +"Ay, ay! That will I! All that! And much good may it do you!" + +"Nay, but swear it," the stranger persisted, "by--by our Lady of +Rocamadour!" + +"I swear it! I swear it!" + +"Then," the stranger replied with a sneer, "it is for you to open. +I've no key!" And he leapt lightly from his pile of fagots to the +floor. + + + + + CHAPTER VIII. + + FATHER ANGEL. + + +As he groped his way towards the door, he came into contact with +Roger, who was also making for it. Roger gripped him and tried to hold +him. "Is there no other way?" the lad muttered. The situation appalled +him. "No other way? You are no match for him!" + +"That we shall see!" the stranger retorted curtly. + +"Then I shall help you!" the lad declared. + +"Would you take on another of them?" the stranger answered eagerly. +"But no, you are over young for it! You are over young by your voice." +Then, as the key grated in the lock, "Stand at my back if you will," +he continued, "and if they--would play me foul, it may serve. But I +shall give him brief occasion! You will see a pretty thing, my lad." + +Crash! The door was forced open, letting a flood of smoky light into +the dark place. He who had opened the door, Ampoule himself, strode +back, when he had done it, across the wooden bridge, and flinging a +hoarse taunt, a "Come if you dare!" over his shoulder, swaggered to +the farther end of the hollow space which the men had formed by +ranging themselves in three lines; the bridge and moat forming the +fourth. One in every three or four held up a blazing firebrand, +plucked from the flames; the light of which, falling on the +intervening space, rendered it as clear as in the day. + +The stranger, a little to Roger's surprise, but less to the surprise +of Ampoule's comrades, did not obey the summons with much alacrity. He +waited in the doorway, accustoming his eyes to the light, and the lad, +whose heart overflowed with pity and apprehension--for he could not +think his ally a match for Ampoule's skill and strength--had time to +mark the weird mingling of glare and shadow, and to wonder if this +lurid space encircled by unreal buildings were indeed the peaceful +courtyard which he had known from childhood. Meanwhile Ampoule waited +disdainfully at the other end of the lists, and as one who scarcely +expected his adversary to appear made his blade whistle in the air. +Or, in turn, to show how lightly he held the situation, he aimed +playful thrusts at the legs of the man who stood nearest, and who +skipped to escape them. + +"Must we fetch you out, dirty rogue?" he cried, after a minute of +this. "Or----" + +"Oh, _tace_! _tace!_" the stranger answered in a peevish tone. He +showed himself on the drawbridge, and with an air of great caution +began to cross it. He still wore his mask. "You are more anxious than +most to reach the end of your life," he continued in the same +querulous tone. "You are ready?" + +"Ready, when you please!" Ampoule retorted fuming. "It is not I----" + +"Who hang back?" the stranger answered. As he spoke he stepped from +the end of the bridge like a man stepping into cold water. He even +seemed to hold himself ready to flee if attacked too suddenly. "But +you are sure you are ready now?" he queried. "Quite ready? Do not let +me"--with a backward glance--"take you by surprise!" + +Ampoule began to think that it would not be without trouble he would +draw his adversary within reach. The duels of those days, be it +remembered, were not formal. Often men fought without seconds; +sometimes in full armour, sometimes in their shirts. Advantages that +would now be deemed dishonourable were taken by the most punctilious. +So, to lure on his man and show his own contempt for the affair, +Ampoule tossed up his sword, and caught it again by the hilt. "I'm +ready!" he said. He came forward three paces, and again tossing up his +sword, recovered it. + +But the masked man seemed to be unwilling to quit the shelter of the +drawbridge; so unwilling that Roger, who had taken up his position on +the bridge behind him, felt his cheek grow hot. His ally had proved +himself such a master of tongue fence as he had never imagined. Was +he, ready as he had been to provoke the quarrel, of those who blench +when the time comes to make good the taunt? + +It seemed so. For the stranger still hung undecided, a foot as it were +either way. "You are sure that I should not now take you by surprise?" +he babbled, venturing at length a couple of paces in the direction of +the foe--but glancing behind between his steps. + +"I am quite sure," Ampoule answered scornfully, "that I see before me +a poltroon and a coward!" + +The word was still on his lips, when like a tiger-cat, like that which +in all the world is most swift to move, like, if you will, the wild +boar that will charge an army, the mask darted rather than ran upon +his opponent. But at the same time with an incredible lightness. +Before Ampoule could place himself in the best posture, before he +could bring his sword-point to the level, or deal one of those famous +"_estramacons_" which he had been wasting on the empty air, the other +was within his guard, they were at close quarters, the advantage of +the bigger man's length of arm was gone. How it went after that, who +struck, who parried, not the most experienced eye could see. So quick +on one another, so furious, so passionate were the half-dozen blows +the masked man dealt, that the clearest vision failed to follow them. +It was as if a wild cat, having itself nine lives, had launched itself +at Ampoule's throat, and gripped, and stabbed, and struck, and in ten +seconds borne him to the ground, falling itself with him. But whereas +in one second the masked man was up again and on his guard, Ampoule +rose not. A few twitches of the limbs, a stifled groan, an arm flung +wide, a gasp, and as he had seen many another pass, through the gate +by which he had sent not a few, Ampoule passed himself. Of so thin a +texture is the web of life, and so slight the thing that suffices to +tear it. Had the masked stranger ridden another road that night, had +he been a little later, had he been a little sooner; had the trooper +refrained from his jest or the men from the wine-pot, had Roger kept +his distance, or the arrow-slit looked another way--had any one of +these chance occasions fallen other than it fell, Ampoule had lived, +and others perchance had died by his hand! + +All passed, it has been said, with incredible swiftness; the attack so +furious, the end a lightning-stroke. Roger on the bridge awoke from a +doubt of his ally's courage to see a whirl, a blow, a fall; and then +on the ground ill-lighted and indistinct--for half the men had dropped +their lights in their excitement--he saw a grim picture, a man dying, +and another crouching a pace from him, watching with shortened point +and bent knees for a possible uprising. + +But none came; Ampoule had lived. And presently, still watching +cautiously, the mask raised himself and dropped his point. A shiver, a +groan passed round the square. A single man swore aloud. Finally three +or four, shaking off the stupor of amazement, moved forwards, and with +their eyes assured themselves that their officer was dead. + +At that Roger, still looking on as one fascinated, shook himself +awake, in fear for his principal. He expected that an attack would be +made on the masked man. None was made, however, no one raised hand or +voice. But as he moved towards him, to support him were it needful, +the unexpected happened. The unknown tottered a pace or two, leant a +moment on his sword-point, swayed, and slowly sank down on the ground. + +With a cry of despair Roger sprang to him, and by the gloomy light of +the three brands which still remained ablaze, he saw that blood was +welling fast from a wound in the masked man's shoulder. Ampoule had +passed, but not without his toll. + +Roger forgot the danger. Kneeling, following his instinct, he took the +fainting man's head on his shoulder. But he was helpless in his +ignorance; he knew not how to aid him. And it was one of the troopers, +late his enemies, who, kneeling beside him, quickly and deftly cut +away the breast of the injured man's shirt, and with a piece of linen, +doubled and redoubled, staunched the flow of blood. The others stood +round the while, one or two lending a light, their fellows looking on +in silence. Roger, even in his distress, wondered at their attitude. +It would not have surprised him if the men had fallen on the stranger +and killed him out of hand. Instead they bent over the wounded man +with looks of curiosity; with looks gloomy indeed, but in which awe +and admiration had their part. Presently at his back a man muttered. + +"The devil, or a Joyeuse!" he said. "No other, I'll be sworn!" + +No one answered, but the man who was dressing the wound lifted the +unknown's hand and silently showed a ring set with stones that even by +that flickering and doubtful light dazzled the eye. They were stones +such as Roger had never seen, and he fancied that they must be of +inestimable value. + +"Ay, ay!" the man who had spoken muttered. "I thought it was so when I +saw him join! I mind his brother, the day he died, taking two of his +own men so, and--pouf! I saw him drown an hour after, and he took the +water just so, cursing and swearing; but the Tarn was too strong for +him." + +"That was Duke Antony?" a second whispered. + +"Antony Scipio." + +"I never saw him," the second speaker answered softly. "Duke Anne at +Coutras--I saw him die; and des Ageaux, that is now Governor of +Perigord, got just such a wound as that in trying to save him." + +"Pouf! All the world knew _him!_" he who had first spoken rejoined +with the scorn of superior knowledge. "But"--to the man who was +binding up the hurt, and who had all but finished his task--"you had +better look and make sure that we shall not have our trouble for +nothing." + +The trooper nodded and began to feel for the fastening of the mask, +which was of strong silk on a stiff frame. Roger raised his hand to +prevent him, but as quickly repressed the impulse. The men were saving +the man's life, and had a right to learn who he was. Besides, sooner +or later, the thing must come off. + +Its removal was not easy. But at length the man found the catch, it +gave way, and the morsel of black fell and disclosed the pale, +handsome face of an effeminate, fair-haired man of about thirty. "Ay, +it is he! It is he, sure enough!" went around the circle, with here +and there an oath of astonishment. + +"Has any one a mouthful of Armagnac?" the impromptu surgeon asked. +"No, not wine. There now, gently between his lips. When he has +swallowed a little we must lift him into the house. He will do well, I +think." + +"But," Roger asked, after in vain interrogating their faces with his +eyes, "who is it? Who it is, if you please? You know him?" + +"Ay, we know him," the trooper answered sententiously. And, rising to +his feet, he looked about him. "Best close that gate," he said, +raising his voice. "If his people be on his track, as is likely, and +come on us before we can make it clear, it may be awkward! See to it, +some of you. And do you, Jasper, take horse and tell the Captain, and +get his orders." + +Two or three of the men, whom the event had most sobered, strode +across the court to do his bidding. Roger looked from one to another +of those who remained. "But who is he?" he asked. His curiosity was +piqued, the more sharply as it was evident that the presence of this +man who lay before him, wounded and unconscious, altered, in some +fashion, the whole position. + +"Who is he?" the former spokesman answered roughly. "Father Angel, to +be sure! You have heard of him, I suppose, young sir?" + +"Father Angel?" Roger repeated incredulously. "A priest? Impossible!" + +"Well, a monk." + +"A monk?" + +"Ay, and a marshal for the matter of that!" the trooper rejoined +impatiently. "Here, lift him, you! Gently, gently! Man, it is the Duke +of Joyeuse," he continued, addressing Roger. "You have heard of him, I +take it? Now, step together, men, and you won't shake him! We must lay +him in the dining-hall. He will do well there." And again to Roger, +who walked with him behind the bearers, "If you don't believe me, see +here," he said. "Tis plain enough still!" And taking a burning +splinter of wood from one of the others he held it so that the light +fell on the crown of the wounded man's head. There discernible amid +the long fair hair was the pale shadow of a tonsure. + +"Father Angel?" Roger repeated in wonder, as the men bearing their +burden stepped slowly and warily on to the bridge. + +"Ay, no other! And riding on what mad errand God knows! It was an +unlucky one for Ampoule. But they are all mad in that house! Coutras +saw the end of one brother, Villemar of another; there are but this +one and the Cardinal left! Look your fill," he continued, as the men +under his direction carried their burden up the three or four steps +that led from the outer hall--where the fire Ampoule had knocked +together still burned on the dogs--to the dining-hall. "Monk and +Marshal, Duke and Capuchin, angel and devil, you'll never see the like +again!" + +Probably his words were not far from the mark. Anne, the eldest of the +four brothers, by whom and by whose interest with King Henry the Third +the house had risen from mediocrity to greatness, from respectability +to fame, had fallen at Coutras encircled by the old nobility whom he +had led to defeat. His brother, Antony Scipio, young as he was, had +taken charge for the League in Languedoc, had pitted himself against +the experience of Montmorency, and for a time had carried it. But his +minor successes had ended in a crushing defeat at Villemar on the +Tarn, and he had drowned his chagrin in its icy waters, cursing and +swearing, says the old chronicler, to the last. The event had drawn +from his monastery the singular man on whom Roger now looked, Henry, +third of the brothers, third Duke of the name, the fame of whose piety +within the cloister was only surpassed by that of his excesses in the +world; who added to an emotional temperament and its sister gift of +eloquence the feverish energy and headlong courage of his race. +Snatching the sword fallen from his brother's hands, in five and +twenty months he had used it with such effect as to win from the King +the baton of a marshal as the price of his obedience. + +"M. de Joyeuse!" Roger muttered, as he watched them lay the +unconscious man on an improvised couch in the corner. "M. de Joyeuse? +It seems incredible!" + +"There is nothing credible about them," the man answered darkly. "The +old fool who keeps the gate here would try the belief of most with his +fables. But he'll never put the handle to their hatchet," with a nod +of meaning. "Yet to listen to him, Charlemagne and the twelve were not +on a level with his master--once! But where are you going, young sir?" +in an altered tone. + +"To tell the Vicomte what has occurred," Roger answered, his hand on +the latch of the inner door--the door that led to the stairs and the +upper rooms. + +"By your leave!" + +"I don't understand." + +"By your leave, I say!" the trooper answered more sharply, and in a +twinkling he had intervened, turned the key in the lock and withdrawn +it. "I am sorry, young sir," he continued, coolly facing about again, +"but until we know what is to do, and what the Captain's orders +are--he has a trump card in his hand now, or I am mistaken--I must +keep you here, by your leave." + +"Against my leave!" + +"As you please for that." + +"I should have though that you had had enough of keeping people!" +Roger retorted angrily. + +"May-be Ampoule has," the man answered with a faint sneer. "I'll see +if I have not better luck. Come, young sir," he continued with +good-humour, "you cannot say that I have been aught but gentle so far. +You've fared better with me, ay, a _mort_ better, than you'd have +fared if the Captain had been here. But I don't want to have to hurt +you if it comes to blows upstairs. You are safer here looking after +the Duke. And trust me, you'll thank me, some day." + +Roger glared at him in resentment. He felt that he who lay helpless in +the corner would have known how to deal with the man and the +situation; but, for himself, he did not. To attempt force was out of +the question, and the trooper had withdrawn and closed the door, +leaving Roger alone with the patient, before the idea of bribery +occurred to the lad. It was as well perhaps; for what was there at +Villeneuve, what had they in that poverty-stricken home of such a +value as to outweigh the wrath of Vlaye? Or to corrupt men who had +seen, without daring to touch, a ring worth a King's ransom? + +Nothing, for certain, which it was in Roger's power to give. Moreover, +the situation, though full of peril, seemed less desperate. The Duke's +act, if it had wrought no more, had sobered the men, and his presence, +wounded as he was, was a factor Roger could not estimate. The respect +with which the men treated him when he lay at their mercy, and their +care to do the best for him, to say nothing of the feelings of awe and +admiration in which they held him--these things promised well. The +question was, how would his presence affect M. de Vlaye? And his +pursuit of the Countess? + +Roger had no notion. The possession of the person of a prince who +ruled a great part of Languedoc might touch the Captain of Vlaye--a +minnow by comparison, but in his own water--in a number of ways. It +might strengthen him in his present design, or it might turn him from +it by opening some new prospect to his ambition. Again, M. de Vlaye +might treat the Duke in one of several modes; as an enemy, as a +friend, as a hostage. He might use the occasion well or ill. He might +work on fears or gratitude. All to Roger was dark and uncertain; as +dark as the courtyard, where the flames of the huge fire had sunk low, +and men by the dull glow of the red embers were removing in a cloak +the body of the unfortunate Ampoule. Ay, and as uncertain as the +breathing of the wounded man in the corner, which now seemed to stop, +and now hurried weakly on. + +Roger paced the room. He did not know for certain what had become of +the Countess, or of his sister, or of his father. He took it for +granted that they had sought the greater safety of the upper rooms. He +had himself, earlier in the evening, suggested that if the worst +threatened they might retreat to the tower chamber, and there defend +themselves; but the Vicomte had pooh-poohed the suggestion, and though +Bonne, who persisted in expecting help from outside, had supported it, +the plan had been given up. Still they were gone, and they could have +retired no other way. He listened at the locked door, hoping to hear +feet on the stairs; for they must be anxious about him. But all was +still. His sister, the Countess, the Vicomte, might have melted into +the air--as far as he was concerned. + +And this, anxious as he was for them, vexed him. He had failed! The +long silence that had brooded over the decaying house, the dull life +against which he and his brother had fretted, were come to an end with +a vengeance. But what use had he made of the opportunity? When he +should have been playing the hero upstairs, when he should have been +the head and front of the defence, directing all, inspiring all, he +lay here in a locked room like a naughty child who must be shielded +from harm. + +A movement on the part of the sick man cut short his thoughts. The +Duke was making futile attempts to raise himself on his elbow. +"Ageaux! Des Ageaux!" he muttered. "You are satisfied now! I struck +him fairly." + +Roger hurried to him and leant over him. "Lie still and do not speak," +he said, hoping to soothe him. + +"We are quits now," the Duke whispered. "We are quits now. Say so, +man!" he continued querulously. "I tell you Vlaye will trouble you no +more. I struck him fairly in the throat." + +"Yes, yes," Roger replied. It was evident that the Duke was rambling +in his mind, and took him for some one else. "We are quits now." + +"Quits," the wounded man muttered, as if he found some magic in the +words. And he drowsed off again into the half-sleep, half-swoon of +exhaustion. + +Roger could make nothing of it, except that the Duke had Vlaye in his +mind, and fancied that it was he whom he had killed. But des Ageaux, +whom he fancied he was addressing? Roger knew him by name and that he +was Governor of Perigord, a man of name and position beyond his rank. +But how came he in this galley? Oh, yes. He remembered now. His name +had been mentioned in connection with the death of the eldest Joyeuse +at Coutras. + +Roger snuffed the candles, and mixing a little wine with water, put it +by the Duke's side. Then he wandered to the locked door, and again +listened fruitlessly. Thence, for he could not rest, he went to the +window, where he pressed his forehead against the cool glass. The fire +had sunk lower; it was now no more than an angry eye glowing in the +darkness. He could discern little by its light. No one moved, the +courtyard seemed as vacant and deserted as the house. Or no. In the +direction of the gate he caught the glint of a lanthorn and the +movement of several figures, revealed for an instant and as suddenly +obscured. He continued to watch the place where the light had +vanished, and presently out of the obscurity grew a black mass that +slowly took the form of a number of men crossing the court in a silent +body, five or six abreast. The tramp of their feet, inaudible on the +soil, rumbled hollowly as they mounted the bridge, which creaked +beneath them. He caught the gleam of weapons, heard a low order given, +fell back from the window. He had little doubt what they were about to +do. + +He was right. The heavy, noisy entry into the outer hall had scarcely +prepared him before the door was thrown open and they filed into the +room in which he stood. + +What could he do? Resistance was out of the question. "What is it?" he +asked, making a show of confronting them. + +"No matter, young sir," the man who had before taken charge answered +gruffly. "Stand you on one side and no harm will happen to you." + +"But----" + +"Stand back! Stand back!" the man answered sternly. "We are on no +boy's errand!" Then to his party, "Bring the lights," he continued, +and advancing to the inner door he unlocked it. "Who has the hammer? +Good, do you come first with me. And let the last two stand here and +keep the door." + +He went through without more words, and disappeared up the staircase, +followed by his men in single file. The two last remained on guard at +the door, and they and Roger waited in the semi-darkness listening to +the lumbering tread of the troopers as they stumbled on the wooden +stairs, or their weapons clanged against the wall. Roger clenched his +hands hard, vowing vengeance; but what could he do? And he had one +consolation. Ampoule's death had sobered the men. They would execute +their orders, but the fear of outrage and excess which had dwelt on +his mind earlier in the evening no longer seemed serious. + +The sound of the men's feet on the stairs had ceased; he guessed that +they were searching the rooms overhead. A moment later their movements +made this clear. He heard their returning footsteps and their raised +voices in the upper passage. They seemed to confer, and to halt for a +minute undecided. Then a door, doubtless the one which led to the +roof, was tried, and tried again. But in vain, for the next moment a +voice cried harshly, "Open! Open!" and after an interval a crash, +twice repeated, proclaimed that the hammer was being brought into use. +A scrambling of hasty feet followed, and then silence--doubtless they +were crossing the roof--and then a pistol shot! One pistol shot! + +Roger glared at the men who had been left with him. They opened the +door more widely, and stepping through seemed to listen. For a moment +the wild notion of locking the door on them, of locking the door on +all, occurred to Roger. But he discarded it. + + + + + CHAPTER IX. + + SPEEDY JUSTICE. + + +The elder of the Villeneuve brothers was less happy than Roger, in +that the Vicomte had passed to him a portion of his crabbed nature. +Something of the bitterness, something of the hardness of the father +lurked in the son; who in the like unfortunate circumstances might +have grown to be such another as his sire, but with more happy +surroundings and a better fate still had it in him to become a +generous and kindly gentleman. + +It was this latent crabbedness that had kept the injustice of his lot +ever before his gaze. Roger bore lightly with his heavier burden, and +only the patient sweetness of his eyes told tales. Bonne was almost +content; if she fretted it was for others, and if she dreamed of the +ancient glories of the house, it was not for the stiff brocades and +jewelled stomacher of her grandame that she pined. + +But with Charles it was otherwise. The honour of the family was more +to him, for he was the heir. Its dignity and welfare were his in a +particular sense; and had he been of the most easy disposition, he +must still have found it hard to see all passing; to see the end, and +to stand by with folded arms. But when to the misery of inaction and +the hopelessness of the outlook were added the Vicomte's daily and +hourly taunts, and all fell on a nature that had in it the seeds of +unhappiness, what wonder if the young man broke away and sought in +action, however desperate, a remedy for his pains? + +A step which he would now have given the world to undo. As he rode a +prisoner along the familiar track, which he had trodden a thousand +times in freedom and safety, the iron entered into his soul. The sun +shone, the glades were green, in a hundred brakes the birds sang, in +shady dells and under oaks the dew sparkled; but he rode, his feet +fastened under his horse's belly, his face set towards Vlaye. In an +hour the dungeon door would close on him. He would have given the +world, had it been his, to undo the step. + +Not that he feared the dungeon so much, or even death; though the +thought of death, amid the woodland beauty of this June day, carried a +chill all its own, and death comes cold to him who awaits it with tied +hands. But he could have faced death cheerfully--or he thought so--had +he fallen into a stranger's power; had the victory not been so +immediately, so easily, so completely with Vlaye--whom he hated. To be +dragged thus before his foe, to read in that sneering face the +contempt which events had justified, to lie at his mercy who had +treated him as a silly clownish lad, to be subjected, may-be, to some +contemptuous degrading punishment--this was a prospect worse than +death, a prospect maddening, insupportable! Therefore he looked on the +woodland with eyes of despair, and now and again, in fits of revolt, +had much ado not to fight with his bonds, or hurl unmanly insults at +his captors. + +They, for their part, took little heed of him. They had not bound his +hands, but had tied the reins of his horse to one of their saddles, +and, satisfied with this precaution, they left him to his reflections. +By-and-by those reflections turned, as the thoughts of all captives +turn, to the chance of escape; and he marked that the men--they +numbered five--seemed to be occupied with something which interested +them more than their prisoner. What it was, of what nature or kind, he +had no notion; but he observed that as surely as they recalled their +duty and drew round him, so surely did the lapse of two or three +minutes find them dispersed again in pairs--it might be behind, it +might be before him. + +When this happened they talked low, but with an absorption so entire +that once he saw a man jam his knee against a sapling which he failed +to see, though it stood in his path; and once a man's hat was struck +from his head by a bough which he might have avoided by stooping. + +Naturally the trooper to whose saddle he was attached had no part in +these conferences. And by-and-by this man, a grizzled, thick-set +fellow with small eyes, grew impatient, and even, it seemed, +suspicious. For a time he vented his dissatisfaction in grunts and +looks, but at last, when the four others had got together and were +colloguing with heads so close that a saddle-cloth would have covered +them, he could bear it no longer. + +"Come, enough of that!" he cried surlily. "One of you take him, and +let me hear what you have settled. I'd like my say as well as +another." + +"Ay, ay, Baptist," one of the four answered. "In a minute, my lad." + +Baptist swore under his breath. Still he waited, and by-and-by one of +the men came grudgingly back, took over the prisoner, and suffered +Baptist to join the council. But Villeneuve, whose attention was now +roused, noted that this man also, after an interval, became restless. +He watched his comrades with jealous eyes, and from time to time he +pressed nearer, as if he would fain surprise their talk. Things were +in this position when the party arrived at a brook, bordered on either +side by willow beds and rushes, and passable at a tiny ford. Beyond +the brook the hill rose suddenly and steeply. Charles knew the place +as he knew his hand, and that from the brook the track wound up +through the brushwood to a nick in the summit of the hill, whence +Vlaye could be seen a league below. + +The four troopers paused at the ford, and letting their horses drink, +permitted the prisoner and his guard to come up. The man they called +Baptist approached the latter. "If you will wait here," he said, with +a look of meaning, "we'll look to the--you know what." + +"I? No, cursed if I do!" the man answered plumply, his swarthy face +growing dark. "I'm not a fool!" + +"Then how in the devil's name are we to do it?" Baptist retorted with +irritation. + +"Stay yourself and take care of him!" + +"And let you find the stuff!" with an ugly look. "A nice reckoning I +should get afterwards." + +"Well, I won't stay, that's flat!" + +The men looked at one another, and their lowering glances disclosed +their embarrassment. The prisoner could make no guess at the subject +of discussion, but he saw that they were verging on a quarrel, and his +heart beat fast. Given the slightest chance he was resolved to take +it. But, that his thoughts might not be read, he kept his eyes on the +ground, and feigned a sullenness which he no longer felt. + +Suddenly, "Tie him to a tree!" muttered one of the men with a sidelong +look at him. + +"And leave him?" + +"Ay, why not?" + +"Why not?" Baptist, the eldest of the men, rejoined with an oath. +"Because if harm happen to him, it will be I will pay for it, and not +you! That is why not!" + +"Tie him well and what can happen?" the other retorted. And then, +"Must risk something, Baptist," he added with a grin, which showed +that he saw his advantage, "since you are in charge." + +The secret was simple. The men had got wind that morning of a saddle +and saddle-bags--and a dead horse, but that counted for nothing--that +in the search after the attack on the Countess's party had been +overlooked in the scrub. Detached to guard the prisoner to Vlaye they +had grinned at the chance of forestalling their comrades and gaining +what there was to gain; which fancy, ever sanguine, painted in the +richest colours. But the five could neither trust one another nor +their prisoner; for Charles might inform Vlaye, and in that case they +would not only lose the spoil but taste the strapado--the Captain of +Vlaye permitting but one robber in his band. Hence they stood in the +position of the ass between two bundles of hay, and dared not leave +their prisoner, nor would leave the spoil. + +At length, after some debate, made up in the main of oaths, "Draw lots +who stays!" one suggested. + +"We have no cards." + +"There are other ways." + +"Well," said he who had charge of the prisoner, "whose horse stops +drinking first--let him stay!" + +"Oh, yes!" retorted Baptist. "And we have watered our horses and you +have not!" + +The man grinned feebly; the others laughed. "Well," he said, "do you +hit on something then! You think yourself clever." + +Villeneuve bethought him of the prince who set, his guards to race, +and, when their horses were spent, galloped away laughing. But he +dared not suggest that, though he tingled with anxiety. "Who sees a +heron first," said one. + +But "Pooh!" with a grin, "we are all liars!" put an end to that. + +"Well," said Baptist sulkily, "if we stay here a while longer we shall +all lie for nothing, for we shall have the Captain upon us." + +Thus spurred a man had an idea that seemed fair. "We've no two +horses alike," he said. "Let us pluck a hair from the tail of each. +He"--pointing to Charles--"shall draw one with his eyes shut, and +whoever is drawn shall stay on guard." + +They agreed to this, and Charles, being applied to, consented with a +sulky air to play his part. The hairs were plucked, a grey, a +chestnut, a bay, a black, and a sorrel; and the prisoner, foreseeing +that he would be left with a single trooper, and determined in that +case to essay escape, shut his eyes and felt for the five hairs, and +selected one. The man drawn was the man who had last had him in +charge, and to whose saddle his reins were still attached. + +The man cursed his ill-fortune; the others laughed. "All the same," he +cried, "if you play me false you'll laugh on the other side of your +faces!" + +"Tut, tut, Martin!" they jeered in answer. "Have no fear!" And they +scarce made a secret of their intention to cheat him. + +The four turned, laughing, and plunged into the undergrowth which +clothed the hill. Still their course could be traced by the snapping +of dry sticks, the scramble of a horse on a steep place, or the scared +notes of blackbirds, fleeing low among the bushes. Slowly Martin's +eyes followed their progress along the hill, and as his eyes moved, he +moved also, foot by foot, through the brook, glaring, listening, and +now and then muttering threats in his beard. + +Had he glanced round once, however impatiently, and seen the pale face +and feverish eyes at his elbow, he had taken the alarm. Charles knew +that the thing must be done now or not at all; and that there must be +one critical moment. If nerve failed him then, or the man turned, or +aught happened to thwart his purpose midway, he had far better have +left the thing untried. + +Now or not at all! He glanced over his shoulder and saw the sun +shining on the flat rushy plat beyond the ford, which the horses' feet +had fouled while their riders debated. He saw no sign of Vlaye coming +up, nor anything to alarm him. The road was clear were he once free. +Martin's horse had stepped from the water, his own was in act to +follow, his guard sat, therefore, a little higher than himself; in a +flash he stooped, seized the other's boot, and with a desperate heave +flung him over on the off side. + +He clutched, as the man fell, at his reins; they were life or death to +him. But though the fellow let them slip, the frightened horse sprang +aside, and swung them out of reach. There remained but one thing he +could do; he struck his own horse in the hope it would run away and +drag the other with it. + +But the other, rearing and plunging, backed from him, and the two, +pulling in different directions, held their ground until the trooper +had risen, run to his horse's head and caught the reins. "Body of +Satan!" he panted with a pale scowl; the fall had shaken him. "I'll +have your blood for this! Quiet, beast! Quiet!" + +In his passion he struck the horse on the head; an act which carried +its punishment. The beast backed from him and dragged him, still +clinging to the reins, into the brook. In a moment the two horses were +plunging about in the water, and he following them was knee deep. +Unfortunately Villeneuve was helpless. All he could do was to strike +his horse and excite it further. But the man would not let go, and the +horses, fastened together, circled round one another until the +trooper, notwithstanding their movements, managed to shorten the +reins, and at last got his horse by the bit. + +"Curse you!" he said again. "Now I've got you! And in a minute, my +lad, I'll make you pay for this!" + +But Villeneuve, seeing defeat stare him in the face, had made use of +the last few seconds. He had loosened the stirrup-leather from the +trooper's saddle, and as the fellow, thinking the struggle over, +grinned at him, he swung the heavy iron in the air, and brought it +down on the beast's withers. It leapt forward, maddened by pain, +dashed the man to the ground, and dragging Villeneuve's horse with it, +whether it would or no, in a moment both were clear of the brook and +plunging along the bank. + +Villeneuve struck the horses again to urge them forward; but only to +learn that which he should have recognised before; that to escape on a +horse, fastened to a second, over difficult ground and through a wood, +was not possible. Half-maddened, half-bewildered, they bore him into a +mass of thorns and bushes. It was all he could do to guard his eyes +and head, more than they could do to keep their feet. A moment and a +tough sapling intervened, the rein which joined them snapped, and his +horse, giving to the tug at its mouth, fell on its near shoulder. + +Bound to his saddle, he could not save himself, but fortunately the +soil was soft, the leg that was under the horse was not broken, and +for a moment the animal made no effort to rise. Villeneuve, despair in +his heart, and the sweat running down his face, had no power to rise. +Nor would the power have availed him, for before he could have gone a +dozen paces through the tangle of thorns, the troopers, some on +horseback, and some on foot, were on him. + +The man from whom he had escaped was a couple of paces in front of the +others. He had snatched up a stick, and black with rage, raised it to +strike the prostrate horse. Had the blow fallen and the horse +struggled to his feet, Villeneuve must have been trampled. Fortunately +Baptist was in time to catch the man's arm and stay the blow. "Fool!" +he said. "Do you want to kill the man?" + +"Ay, by Heaven!" the fellow shrieked. "He nearly killed me!" + +"Well, you'll not do it!" Baptist retorted, and he pushed him back. +"Do you hear? I have no mind to account for his loss to the Captain, +if you have." + +"Do you think that I am going to be pitched on my head by a +Jack-a-dandy like that," the fellow snarled, "and do naught? And where +is my share?" + +The grizzled man stooped, and, while one of his comrades held down the +horse's head, untied Villeneuve's feet, and drew him from under the +beast. "Share?" he answered with a sneer as he rose. "What time had we +to find the thing?" + +"You have not found it?" + +"No--thanks to you! What kind of a guard do you call yourself?" +Baptist continued ferociously. "By this time, had you done your part, +we had done ours! If there is to be any accounting, you'll account to +us!" + +"Ay," the others cried, "Baptist is right, my lad!" + +The man, seeing himself outnumbered, cast a devilish look at them. He +turned on his heel. When he was gone a couple of paces, "Very good," +he said over his shoulder, "but when I get you alone----" + +"You!" Baptist roared, and took three strides towards him. "You, when +you get me alone! Stand to me now, then, and let them see what you +will do!" + +But the malcontent, with the same look of hate, continued to retreat. +Baptist jeered. "That is better!" he said. "But we knew what you were +before! Now, lads, to horse, we've lost time enough!" + +Flinging a mocking laugh after the craven the troopers turned. But to +meet with a surprise. By their horses' heads stood a strange man +smiling at them. "I arrest all here!" he said quietly. He had nothing +but a riding switch in his hand, and Villeneuve's eyes opened wide as +he recognised in him the guest of the Tower Chamber. "In the King's +name, lay down your arms!" + +They stared at him as if he had fallen from the skies. Even Baptist +lost the golden moment, and, in place of flinging himself upon the +stranger, repeated, "Lay down our arms? Who, in the name of thunder, +are you?" + +"No matter!" the other answered. "You are surrounded, my man. See! And +see!" He pointed in two directions with his switch. + +Baptist glared through the bushes, and saw eight or ten horsemen +posted along the hill-side above him. He looked across the brook, and +there also were two or three stalwart figures, seated motionless in +their saddles. + +The others looked helplessly to Baptist. "Understand," he said, with +uneasy defiance. "You will answer for this. We are the Captain of +Vlaye's men!" + +"I know naught of the Captain of Vlaye," was the stern reply. +"Surrender, and your lives shall be spared. Resist, and your blood be +on your own heads!" + +Baptist counted heads rapidly, and saw that he was outnumbered. He +gave the word, and after one fashion or another, some recklessly, some +stolidly, the men threw down their arms. "Only--you will answer for +this!" Baptist repeated. + +"I shall answer for it," des Ageaux replied gravely. "In the meantime +I desire a word with your prisoner. M. de Villeneuve, this way if you +please." + +He was proceeding to lead Charles a little apart. But his back had not +been turned three seconds when a thing happened. The man who had slunk +away before Baptist's challenge had got to horse unnoticed. At a +little distance from the others, he had not surrendered his arms. +Whether he could not from where he was see the horsemen who guarded +the further side of the brook, and so thought escape in that direction +open, or he could not resist the temptation to wreak his spite on +Baptist at all risks, he chose this moment to ride up behind him, draw +a pistol from the holster, and fire it into the unfortunate man's +back. Then with a yell that echoed his victim's death-cry he crashed +through the undergrowth in the direction of the brook. + +But already, "Seize him! Seize him!" rose above the wood in a dozen +voices. "On your life, seize him!" + +The order was executed almost as soon as uttered. As the horse leaping +the water alighted on the lower bank, it swerved to avoid a trooper +who barred the way. The turn surprised the rider; he lost his balance. +Before he could get back into his seat, a trooper knocked him from the +saddle with the flat of his sword. In a trice he was seized, disarmed, +and dragged across the brook. + +But by that time Baptist, with three slugs under his shoulder-blade, +lay still among the moss and briars, the hand that had beaten time to +a thousand camp-ditties in a thousand quarters from Fontarabie to +Flanders flung nerveless beside a wood-wren's nest. As they gathered +round him Charles, who had never seen a violent death, gazed on the +limp form with a pale face, questioning, with that wonder which the +thoughtful of all times have felt, whither the mind that a minute +before looked from those sightless eyes had taken its flight. + +He was roused by the Lieutenant's voice, speaking in tones measured +and stern as fate. "Let him have five minutes," he said, "and +then--that tree will be best!" + +They began to drag the wretch, now pale as ashes, in the direction +indicated. Half way to the tree the man began to struggle, breaking +into piercing shrieks that he was Vlaye's man, that they had no +right---- + +"Stay, right he shall have!" des Ageaux cried solemnly. "He is judged +and doomed by me, Governor of Perigord, for murder in Curia. In the +King's name! Now take him!" + +The wretch was dragged off, his judge to all appearance deaf to his +cries. But Charles could close neither his ears nor his heart. The man +had earned his doom richly. But to stand by while a fellow-creature, +vainly shrieking for mercy, mercy, was strangled within his hearing, +turned him sick and faint. + +Des Ageaux read his thoughts. "To spare here were to kill there," he +said coldly. "Learn, my friend, that to rule men is no work for a soft +heart or a gentle hand. But you are shaken. Come this way," he +continued in a different tone; "you will be the better for some wine." +He took out a flask and gave it to Charles, who, excessively thirsty +now he thought of it, drank greedily. "That is better," des Ageaux +went on, seeing the colour return to his cheeks. "Now I wish for +information. Where are the nearest Crocans?" + +The young man's face fell. "The nearest Crocans?" he muttered +mechanically. + +"Yes." + +"I----" + +"Are there any within three hours' ride of us?" + +But Charles had by this time pulled himself together. He held out his +wrists. "I am your prisoner," he said. "Call up your men and bind me. +You can do with me as you please. But I am a Villeneuve, and I do not +betray." + +"Not even----" + +"You saw me turn pale?" the young man continued. "Believe me, I can +bear to go to the tree better than to see another dragged there!" + +Des Ageaux smiled. "Nay, but you mistake me, M. de Villenueve," he +said. "I ask you to betray no one. It is I who wish to enlist with +you." + +"With us?" Charles exclaimed. And he stared in bewilderment. + +"With you. In fact you see before you," des Ageaux continued, his eyes +twinkling, his hand stroking his short beard, "a Crocan. Frankly, and +to be quite plain, I want their help; a little later my help may save +them. They fear an attack by the Captain of Vlaye? I am prepared to +aid them against him. Afterwards----" + +"Ay, afterwards." + +"If they will hear reason, what can be done in their behalf I will do! +But there must be no Jacquerie, no burning, and no plundering. In a +word," with a flitting smile, "it is now for the Crocans to say +whether the Captain of Vlaye shall earn the King's pardon by quelling +them--or they by quelling him." + +"But you are the Governor of Perigord?" Charles exclaimed. + +"I am the King's Lieutenant in Perigord, which is the same thing." + +"And in this business?" + +"I am in the position of the finger which is set between the door +and the jamb! But no matter for that, you will not understand. Only +do you tell me where these Crocans lie, and we will visit them if it +can be done before night. To-night I must be back"--with a peculiar +look--"for I have other business." + +Charles told him, and with joy. Ay, with joy. As a sail to the +raft-borne seaman awash in the Biscayan Gulf, or a fountain to the +parched wanderer in La Mancha, this and more to him was the prospect +suddenly opened before his eyes. To be snatched at a word from the +false position in which he had placed himself, and from which naught +short of a miracle could save him! To find for ally, instead of the +broken farmers and ruined clowns, the governor of a great province! To +be free to carve his fortune with his right hand where he would! +These, indeed, were blessings that a minute before had seemed as far +from him as home from the seaman who feels his craft settling down in +a shoreless water. + + + + + CHAPTER X. + + MIDNIGHT ALARMS. + + +Bonne's first thought when her brother darted to the stranger's rescue +was to seek aid from Ampoule, who, it will be remembered, sat drinking +beside the fire in the outer hall. But the man's coarse address, and +the nature of his employment at the moment, checked the impulse; and +the girl returned to the window, and, flattening her face against the +panes, sought to learn what fortune her brother had. The fire, still +burning high, cast its light as far as the gateway. But the tower to +which Roger had hastened, being in a line with the window, was not +visible, and though Bonne pressed her face as closely as possible +against the panes, she could discover nothing. Yet her brother did not +come back. The murmur of jeers and laughter persisted, but he did not +appear. + +She turned at last, impelled to seek aid from some one. But at sight +of the room, womanish panic took her by the throat, and the hysterical +fit almost overcame her. For what help, what hope of help, lay in any +of those whom she saw round her? The Countess indeed had crept to her +side, and cast her arm about her, but she was a child, and ashake +already. For the others, the Vicomte sat sunk in lethargy, heeding no +one, ignorant apparently that his son had left the room; and Fulbert, +whose wits had exhausted themselves in the effort that had saved his +mistress, stood faithful indeed, but brainless, dull, dumb. Only +Solomon, who leant against the wall beside the door, his old face +gloomy, his eyebrows knit, only to him could she look for a spark of +comfort or suggestion. He, it was clear, appreciated the crisis, for +he was listening intently, his head inclined, his hand on a weapon. +But he was old, and there was not a man of Vlaye's troopers who was +not more than a match for him foot to foot. + +Still, he was her only hope, if her brother did not return. And she +turned again to the casement, and, scarcely breathing, listened with a +keenness of anxiety almost indescribable. If only Roger would return! +Roger, who had seemed so weak a prop a few minutes before, and who, +now that she had lost him, seemed everything! But the voices of +Ampoule and his companion disputing in the outer hall rose louder, +drowning more distant sounds; and the minutes were passing. And still +Roger did not return. + +Then a thought came to her; or rather two thoughts. The first was that +all now hung on her--and that steadied her. The second, that he whose +grasp had brought the blood to her cheeks that morning had bidden her +hold out to the last, fight to the last, play the man to the last; and +this moved her to action. Better do anything than succumb like her +father. She flew to Solomon, dragging the Countess with her. + +"We are not safe here," she said. "These men are drinking. They have +kept Roger, and that bodes us no good. Were it not better to go +upstairs to the Tower Room?" + +"It were the best course," the old man answered slowly, with his eyes +on the Vicomte. "Out and away the best course, mademoiselle. Fulbert +and I could guard the stairs awhile at any rate." + +"Then let us go!" + +But he looked at the Vicomte. "If my lord says so," he answered. All +his life the Vicomte's word had been his law. + +In a moment she was at her father's side. "The Countess will be safer +upstairs, sir," she said, speaking with a boldness that surprised +herself--but who could long remain in fear of the failing old man +whose leaden eyes met hers with scarce a gleam of meaning? "The +Countess is frightened here, sir," she continued. "If you would guard +us upstairs----" + +"Have done!" he struck at her with feeble passion, and waved her off. +"Let me alone." + +"But----" + +"Peace, girl, I say!" he repeated irascibly. "Who are you to fix +comings and goings? Get to your stool and your needle. God knows," in +a burst of childish petulance, "what the world is coming to--when +children order their elders! But since--there, begone! Begone!" + +She wrung her hands in despair. Outside, fuel was beginning to fail, +the fire was burning low, the court growing dark. Within, the two +guttering candles showed only the Vicomte's figure sunk low in his +chair, and here and there a pale face projected from the shadow. But +the noise of riot and disorder did not slacken, rather it grew more +menacing; and what was she to do? Desperate, she returned to the +attack. + +"Sir," she said, "there is no one to escort the Countess of +Rochechouart to her room. She wishes to retire, and it is late." + +He got abruptly to his feet, and looked about him with something of +his ordinary air. "Where is the Countess?" he asked peevishly. And +then addressing Solomon, "Take candles! Take candles!" he continued. +"And you, sirrah, light the way! Don't you know your duty? The +Countess to her room! Mordieu, girl, we are fallen low indeed if we +don't know how to behave to our guests. Madame--or, to be sure, +Mademoiselle la Comtesse," with a puzzled look at the shrinking child, +"let me have the honour. Things are out of gear to-night, and we must +do the best we can. But to-morrow--to-morrow all shall be in order." + +He marshalled Solomon out and followed, bowing the young Countess +before him. Bonne overjoyed went next; Fulbert, like a patient dog, +brought up the rear. All was not done yet, however, as Bonne knew; and +she nerved herself for the effort. On the landing her father would +have stopped, but she passed him lightly and opened the door that led +by way of the roof, to the Tower Chamber. "This way!" she muttered to +Solomon, as he hesitated. "The Countess is timid to-night, sir," she +continued aloud, "and craves leave to lie in the Tower as the room is +empty." + +He frowned. "Still this silliness!" he exclaimed, and then passing his +hand over his brow, "There was something said about it, I remember. +But I thought I----" + +"Gave permission, sir? Yes!" Bonne murmured, pushing the girl steadily +forward. "Solomon, do you hear? Light along the leads!" + +Great as was his fear of the Vicomte, the old porter succumbed to her +will, and all were on the point of following, when a door on the +landing opened, and the Abbess appeared on the threshold of her room. +She held a light above her head, and with a sneer on her handsome +face, contemplated the group. + +"What is this?" she asked. And then, gathering their intention from +their looks--possibly she had had some inkling of it, "You do not mean +to tell me," she continued, partly in temper, and partly in feigned +surprise, "that a half-dozen of roystering troopers, sir, are driving +the Vicomte de Villeneuve from his own chamber? To take refuge among +the owls and bats? For shame, sir, for shame!" + +Bonne tried to stay her by a gesture. + +In vain. "A fine tale they will have to tell to-morrow!" the elder +sister continued in tones of savage raillery. "M. de Villeneuve afraid +of a handful of rascals, whom their master keeps within bounds with a +stick! The Lord of Villeneuve bearded in his own house by a scum of +riders!" + +"Peace, daughter!" the Vicomte cried; he even raised his hand in +anger. "You lie! It is not I"--his head trembling--"I indeed, but the +Countess! You don't see her. The Countess of Rochechouart----" + +"Oh!" said the Abbess. And, the light she held shining on her arrogant +beauty, she swept a great curtsy, as if she had not seen her intended +guest before; as if her scornful eyes had not from the first descried +the girl; as if the small beginnings of hate, hate that scarcely knew +itself, were not already in her breast. "Oh," she said again, "it is +the Countess of Rochechouart, is it, who is afraid?" + +"And with reason," Bonne answered, intervening hurriedly, but in a low +voice. "The men are drinking and growing violent. Roger went to them +some time ago, and has not come back." + +"Roger!" the Abbess ejaculated, shrugging her shoulders. "Did you +think that he could do anything?" + +But she who of all those present seemed least likely to interfere +spoke up at that. Whether the young Countess resented--Heaven knows +why she should--the sneer at Roger's expense, or only the contempt of +herself which the Abbess's manner expressed, she plucked up a spirit. +After all she was not only a Rochechouart, but she was a woman; and +there is in all women, even the meekest, a spark of temper that, being +fanned by one of their own sex, blazes up. "It is true," she replied +coldly, her face faintly pink. "It is I who am afraid, mademoiselle. +But it is not of the men downstairs. It is their master whom I fear." + +"You fear M. de Vlaye?" the Abbess repeated. And she laughed aloud, a +little over merrily, at the absurdity of the notion. "You--fear M. de +Vlaye? Why? If I may venture to ask?" + +"Why?" the Countess replied. She had learned somewhat during the day, +and was too young to hide her knowledge, being provoked. "Do you ask +why, mademoiselle? Because, to be plain, I fear that which it may be +you do not fear." + +The Abbess flushed crimson to her very throat. "And what, to be plain, +do you mean by that?" she retorted in a tone that shook with passion. +"If you think that this story is true that they tell----" + +"That M. de Vlaye waylaid and would have seized me?" the little +Countess retorted undismayed. "It is quite true." + +"You say that!" The young Abbess was pale and red by turns. "How do +you know? What do you know?" + +"I know the Captain of Vlaye," the girl answered firmly. "I have seen +him more than once at Angouleme, His mask fell yesterday, and I could +not be mistaken. It was he!" + +The Abbess bit her lip until the blood came in the vain attempt to +mask feelings which her temper rendered her impotent to control. She +no longer doubted the story. She saw that it was true; and jealousy, +rage, and amazement--amazement at Vlaye's treachery, amazement +at the discovery of a rival in one so insignificant in all save +rank--deprived her of the power of speech. Fortunately at this moment +the clash of steel reached Solomon's ears, and, startled, the porter +gave the alarm. + +"My lord, they are fighting!" he cried. And then emboldened by the +emergency, "Were it not well," he continued, "to put the ladies in a +place of safety?" + +The Vicomte, urged up the steps by the women, leant over the parapet, +and learned the truth for himself. Bonne, the Countess, the Abbess and +her women, all followed, and in a twinkling were standing on the roof +in the dark night, the round tower rising beside them, and the +croaking of the frogs coming up to them from below. + +But the brief clash of weapons was over, and they could make out no +more than a group of figures gathered about two prostrate men. The +movement of the lights, now here now there, augmented the difficulty +of seeing, and for a while Bonne's heart stood still. She made no +lamentations, for she came of the old blood, but she thought Roger +dead. And then a man raised a light, and she distinguished his figure +leaning over one of the injured men. + +"Thank God!" she murmured. "There is Roger. He is not hurt!" + +"Who are they? Who are they?" the Vicomte babbled, clinging to the +parapet. "Eh? Who are they? Cannot any one see?" + +But no one could see, and the Abbess's women began to cry. She paid no +heed to them. She leant with the others over the parapet, and she +listened with them to the shuffling feet of the men below, as slowly +in a double line they bore the cloaked form towards the house. But +whether their thoughts were her thoughts, their anxiety her anxiety, +whether she was wrapt, as they were, in the scene that passed below, +or chewed instead the cud of other and more bitter reflections, was +known only to herself. Her proud spirit, whose worst failings hitherto +had not gone beyond selfishness and vanity, hung, it may be, during +those moments between good and evil, the better and the worse; took, +perhaps, the turn that must decide its life; flung from it, perhaps, +in passionate abandonment the last heart-strings that bound it to the +purer and more generous affections. + +Perhaps; but none of those who stood beside her had an inkling of her +mood. For the troopers had passed with their mysterious burden into +the house, and no sooner were they gone than one of the Abbess's women +cried in a panic that they would be murdered, and in a trice all, +succumbing to the impulse, made for the Tower Chamber, and herded into +it pell-mell, some shrugging their shoulders and showing that they +gave way to the more timid, and the men not knowing from whom to take +orders. In the chamber were already two or three of the house-women, +who had sought that refuge earlier in the evening, and these, seeing +the Vicomte, looked for nothing but slaughter, and by their shrill +lamentations added to the confusion. + +The security of all depended entirely on their holding the way across +the leads, and here the men should have remained; but the women would +not part with them and all entered together. Some one locked the outer +door, and there they were, in all eleven or twelve persons, in the +great, dreary chamber, where a few feeble candles that served to make +darkness visible disclosed their blanched faces. At the slightest +sound the women shrieked or clung to one another, and with every +second the boldest expected to hear the tramp of feet without, and the +clatter of weapons on the oak. + +There was something ridiculous in this noisy panic; yet something +terrifying also to those who, like Bonne, kept their heads. She strove +in vain to make herself heard; her voice was drowned; the disorder +overwhelmed her as a flood overwhelms a strong swimmer. She seized a +girl by the arm to silence her: the wench took it for a fresh alarm +and squalled the louder. She flew to her father and begged him to +interpose; flurried, he fell into a rage with her, and stormed at her +as if it were she who caused the confusion. For the others the young +Countess, though quiet, was scared; and Odette, seated at a distance, +noticed her companions only at intervals in the dark current of her +thoughts--and then with a look of disdain. + +At length Bonne betook herself to Solomon. "Some one should hold the +roof!" she said. + +He shrugged his shoulders. "Ay, ay, mademoiselle," he said, "but we +have no orders and the door is locked, and he has the key." + +"You could do something there?" + +"Ay, if we had orders." + +She flew to the Vicomte at that. "Some one should be holding the roof, +sir," she said. "Solomon and Fulbert could maintain it awhile. Could +you not give them orders?" + +He swore at her. "We are mad to be here," he exclaimed, veering about +on an instant. "This comes of letting women have a voice! Silence, you +hell-babes!" he continued, turning with his staff raised upon two of +the women, who had chosen that moment to raise a new outcry. "We are +all mad! Mad, I say!" + +"I will silence them, sir," she answered. And stepping on a bed, +"Listen! Listen to me!" she cried stoutly. "We are in little danger +here if we are quiet. Therefore let us make no noise. They will not +then know where to find us. And let the men go to the door, and the +maids to the other end of the room. And----" + +Shrieks stopped her. The two whom the Vicomte had upbraided flung +themselves screaming on Solomon. "The window! The window!" they cried, +glaring over their shoulders. And before the astonished old man could +free himself, or the Vicomte give vent to his passion, "The window! +They are coming in!" they shrieked. + +The words were the signal for a wild rush towards the door. Two or +three of the candles were knocked down, the Vicomte was well-nigh +carried off his legs, the Abbess, who tried to rise, was pinned where +she was by her women; who flung themselves on their knees before her +and hid their faces in her robe. Only Bonne, interrupted in the midst +of her appeal, retained both her presence of mind and her freedom of +action. After obeying the generous instinct which bade her thrust the +young Countess behind her, she remained motionless, staring intently +at the window--staring in a mixture of hope and fear. + +The hope was justified. They were the faces of friends that showed in +the dark opening of the window. They were friends who entered--Charles +first, that the alarm might be the sooner quelled, des Ageaux second; +if first and second they could be called, when the feet of the two +touched the floor almost at the same instant. But Charles wore a new +and radiant face, and des Ageaux a look of command, that to Bonne +after what she had gone through was as wine to a fainting man. There +were some whom that look did not reach, but even these--women with +their faces hidden--stilled their cries, and raised their heads +when he spoke. For a trumpet could not have rung more firm in that +panic-laden air. + +"We are friends!" he said. "And we are in time! M. le Vicomte, we must +act and ask your leave afterwards." Turning again to the window he +spoke to the night. + +Not in vain. At the word troopers came tumbling in man after man; the +foremost, a lean, lank-visaged veteran, who looked neither to right +nor left, but in three strides, and with one salute in the Vicomte's +direction, put himself at the door and on guard. He had a long, +odd-looking sword with a steel basket hilt, with which he signed to +the men to stand here or there. + +For they continued to come in, until the Vicomte, stunned by the sight +of his son, awoke to fresh wonder; and, speechless, counted a round +dozen and three to boot, besides his guest and Charles. Moreover they +were men of a certain stamp, quiet but grim, who, being bidden, did +and asked no questions. + +When they had all filed through the group of staring women now fallen +silent, and had ranged themselves beside the Bat--for he it was--at +the door, des Ageaux spoke. + +"Do you hear them?" + +"No, my lord." + +"Unlock softly, then, but do not open! And wait the word! M. le +Vicomte"--he turned courteously to the old man--"the occasion presses, +or I would ask your pardon. Mademoiselle"--but as he turned to Bonne +he lowered his voice, and what he said escaped other ears. Not her +ears, for from brow to neck, though he had but praised her courage and +firmness, she blushed vividly. + +"I did only what I could," she replied, lifting her eyes once to his +and as quickly dropping them. "Roger----" + +"Ha! What of Roger?" + +She told him as concisely as she could. + +He knit his brows. "That was not of my contrivance," he said. And +then with a gleam of humour in his eyes, "Masked was he? Another +knight-errant, it seems, and less fortunate than the first! You do not +lack supporters in your misfortunes, mademoiselle. But--what is it?" + +"They come, my lord," the Bat answered, raising his hand to gain +attention. + +All, at the word, listened with quickened pulses, and in the silence +the harsh rending of wood came to the ear, a little dulled by +distance. Then a murmur of voices, then another crash! The men about +the door poised themselves, each with a foot advanced, and his weapon +ready; their strained muscles and gleaming eyes told of their +excitement. A moment and they would be let loose! A moment--and then, +too late, Bonne saw Charles beside the Bat. + +Too late; but it mattered nothing. She might have spoken, but he, +panting for the fight, exulting in the occasion, would not have heeded +if an angel had spoken. And before she could find words, the thing was +done. The Bat flung the door open, and with a roar of defiance the mob +of men charged out and across the roof, Charles among the foremost. + +A shot, a scream, a tumult of cries, the jarring of steel on steel, +and the fight rolled down through the house in a whirl of strident +voices. The candles, long-wicked and guttering, flamed wildly in the +wind; the room was half in shadow, half in light. The Vicomte, who had +seen all in a maze of stupefaction, stiffened himself--as the old +war-horse that scents the battle. Bonne hid her face and prayed. + +Not so the Abbess. She sat unmoved, a sneer on her face, a dark +look in her eyes. And so Bonne, glancing up, saw her; and a strange +pang shot through the younger girl's breast. If he had praised her +courage--and that with a look and in a tone that had brought the blood +to her cheeks--what would he think of her handsome sister? How could +he fail to admire her, not for her beauty only, but for her stately +pride, for the composure that not even this could alter, for the +challenge that shone in her haughty eyes? + +The next moment Bonne reproached herself for entertaining such a +thought, while Charles's life and perhaps Roger's hung in the balance, +and the cries of men in direst straits still rung in her ears. What a +worm she was, what a crawling thing! God pardon her! God protect them! + +The Abbess's voice--she had risen at last and moved--cut short her +supplications. "Who is he?" Odette de Villeneuve muttered in a fierce +whisper. "Who is he, girl?" She pointed to des Ageaux, who kept his +station on the threshold, his ear following the course of the fight. +"Who is that man? They call him my lord! Who is he?" + +"I do not know," Bonne said. + +"You do not know?" + +"No." + +The candles flared higher. The Lieutenant turned and saw the two +sisters standing together looking at him. + +He crossed the room to them, halting midway to listen, his attention +divided between them and the conflict below. His eyes dwelt awhile on +the Abbess, but settled, as he drew nearer, on Bonne. He desired to +reassure her. "Have no fear, mademoiselle," he said quietly. "Your +brother runs little risk. They were taken by surprise. By this time it +is over." + +The Vicomte heard and his lips trembled, but no words came. It was the +Abbess who spoke for him. "And what next?" she asked harshly. + +Des Ageaux, still lending an ear to the sounds below, looked at her +with attention, but did not answer. + +"What next?" she repeated. "You have entered forcibly. By what right?" + +"The right, mademoiselle," he replied, "that every man has to resist a +wrong. The right that every man has to protect women, and to save his +friends. If you desire more than this," he continued, with a change of +tone that answered the challenge of her eyes, "in the King's name, +mademoiselle, and my own!" + +"And you are?" + +"His Majesty's Lieutenant in Perigord," he answered, bowing. His +attention was fixed on her, yet he was vividly conscious of the colour +that mounted suddenly to Bonne's cheeks, dyed her brows, shone in her +eyes. + +"Of Perigord?" the Abbess repeated in astonishment. + +"Of Perigord," he replied, bowing again. "It is true," he continued, +shrugging his shoulders, "that I am a league or two beyond my border, +but great wrongs beget little ones, mademoiselle." + +She hated him. As he stood there successful, she hated him. But she +had not found an answer, nor had Bonne stilled the fluttering, half +painful, half pleasant, of her heart, when the tread of returning feet +heralded news. The Bat and two others entered, bearing a lanthorn that +lit up their damp swarthy faces. The first was Roger. + +He was wildly excited. "Great news!" he cried, waving his hand. "Great +news! I have downstairs----" + +One look from des Ageaux's eyes silenced him. Des Ageaux looked from +him to the Bat. "What have you done?" he asked curtly. + +"Taken two unwounded, three wounded," the tall man answered as +briefly. "The others escaped." + +"Their horses?" + +"We have their horses." + +Des Ageaux paused an instant. Then, "You have closed the gates?" + +"And set a guard, my lord!" the Bat answered. "We have no wounded, +but----" + +"The Duke of Joyeuse lies below, and is wounded!" Roger cried in a +breath. He could restrain himself no longer. + +If his object was to shatter des Ageaux's indifference, he succeeded +to a marvel. "The Duke of Joyeuse?" the Lieutenant exclaimed in +stupefaction. "Impossible!" + +"But no!" Roger retorted. "He is lying below--wounded. It is not +impossible!" + +"But he was not--of those?" des Ageaux returned, indicating by a +gesture the men whom they had just expelled. For an instant the notion +that he had attacked and routed friends instead of foes darkened his +face. + +"No!" Roger explained fluently--excitement had rid him of his +diffidence. "No! He was the man who rode into the courtyard--but you +have not heard? They were going to maltreat him, and he killed their +leader, Ampoule--that was before you came!" Roger's eyes shone; it was +evident that he had transferred his allegiance. + +Des Ageaux's look sought the Bat and asked a question. "There is a +dead man below," the Bat answered. "He had it through the throat." + +"And the Duke of Joyeuse?" + +"He is there--alone apparently." + +"Alone?" + +The Bat's eyes sought the wall and gazed on it stonily. "There are +more fools than one in the world," he said gruffly. + +Des Ageaux pondered an instant. Then, "I will see him," he said. "But +first," he turned courteously to the Vicomte, "I have to provide for +your safety, M. le Vicomte, and that of your family. I can only ensure +it, I fear, by removing you from here. I have not sufficient force to +hold the chateau, and short of that I see no way of protecting you +from the Captain of Vlaye's resentment." + +The Vicomte, who had aged years in the last few days, as the old +sometimes do, sat down weakly on a bed. "Go--from here?" he muttered, +his hands moving nervously on his knees. "From my house?" + +"It is necessary." + +"Why?" A younger and stronger voice flung the question at des Ageaux. +The Abbess stood forward beside her father. "Why?" she repeated +imperiously. "Why should we go from here--from our own house? Or why +should we fear M. de Vlaye?" + +"To the latter question--because he does not lightly forgive, +mademoiselle," des Ageaux replied drily. "To the former because I have +neither men nor means to defend this house. To both, because you have +with you"--he pointed to the Countess--"this lady, whom it is not +consonant with the Vicomte's honour either to abandon or to surrender. +To be plain, M. de Vlaye's plans have been thwarted and his men +routed, and to-morrow's sun will not be an hour high before he takes +the road. To remain here were to abide the utmost of his power; +which," he added drily, "is at present of importance, however it may +stand in a week's time." + +She looked at him darkly beautiful, temper and high disdain in her +face. And as she looked there began to take shape in her mind the wish +to destroy him; a wish that even as she looked, in a space of time too +short to be measured by our clumsy methods, became a fixed thought. +Why had he intervened? Who had invited him to intervene? With a +woman's inconsistency she left out of sight the wrong M. de Vlaye +would have done her, she forgot the child-Countess, she overlooked all +except that this man was the enemy of the man she loved. She felt that +but for him all would have been well! But for him--for even that she +laid at his door--and his hostility the Captain of Vlaye had never +been driven to think of that other way of securing his fortunes. + +These thoughts passed through her mind in a pause so short that the +listeners scarcely marked it for a pause. Then, "And if we will not +go?" she cried. + +"All in the house will go," he replied. + +"Whither?" + +"I shall decide that," he answered coldly. And he turned from her. +Before she could retort he was giving orders, and men were coming and +going and calling to one another, and lights were flitting in all +directions through the house, and all about her was hubbub and stir +and confusion. She saw that resistance was vain. Her father was +passive, her brothers were des Ageaux's most eager ministrants. The +servants were awed into silence, or, like old Solomon, who for once +was mute on the glories of the race, were anxious to escape for their +own sakes. + +Then into her hatred of him entered a little of that leaven of fear +which makes hatred active. For amid the confusion he was cool. His +voice was firm, his eye commanded on this side, his hand beckoned on +that, men ran for him. She knew the dread in which M. de Vlaye was +held. But this she saw was not the awe in which men hold him whose +caprice it may be to punish, but the awe in which men stand of him who +is just; whose nature it is out of chaos to create order, and who to +that end will spend himself and all. A man cold of face and something +passionless; even hard, we have seen, when a rope, a bough, and a +villain forced themselves on his attention. + +She would not have known him had she seen him leaning over Joyeuse a +few minutes later, while his lean subaltern held a shaded taper on the +other side of the makeshift pallet. The door was locked on them, they +had the room to themselves, and between them the Duke lay in the dead +sleep of exhaustion. "I do not think that we can move him," des Ageaux +muttered, his brow clouded by care. + +The Bat, with the light touch of one who had handled many a dying man, +felt the Duke's pulse, without rousing him. "He will bear it," he +said, "in a litter." + +"Over that road? Think what a road it is!" + +"Needs must!" + +"He brought the money, found me gone, and followed," des Ageaux +murmured in a voice softening by feeling. "You think we dare take +him?" + +"To leave him to the Captain of Vlaye were worse." + +"Worse for us," des Ageaux muttered doubtfully. "That is true." + +"Worse for all," the Bat grunted. He took liberties in private that +for all the world he would not have had suspected. + +Still his master, who had been so firm above-stairs, hung undecided +over the sick man's couch. "M. de Vlaye would not be so foolish as to +harm him," he said. + +"He would only pluck him!" the Bat retorted. "And wing us with the +first feather, the Lady Countess with the second, the Crocans with the +third, and the King with the fourth." He stopped. It was a long speech +for him. + +Des Ageaux assented. "Yes, he is the master-card," he said slowly. "I +suppose we must take him. But Heavens knows how we shall get him +there." + +"Leave that to me!" said the Bat, undertaking more than he knew. Nor +did he guess with whose assistance he was to perform the task. + + + + + CHAPTER XI. + + THE CHAPEL BY THE FORD. + + +It was after midnight, and the young moon had set when they came, a +long procession of riders, to the ford in which des Ageaux had laved +his horse's legs on the evening of his arrival. But the night was +starlight, and behind them the bonfire, which the men had rekindled +that its blaze might aid their preparations, was reflected in a faint +glow above the trees. As they splashed through the shallows the frogs +fell silent, scared by the invasion, but an owl that was mousing on +the slope of the downs between them and the dim lifted horizon +continued its melancholy hooting. The women shivered as the cool air +embraced them, and one here and there, as her horse, deceived by the +waving weeds, set a foot wrong, shrieked low. + +But no one hesitated, for the Bat had put fear into them. + +He had told them in the fewest possible words that in ninety minutes +M. de Vlaye would be knocking at the gate they left! And how long the +pursuit would tarry after that he left to their imaginations. The +result justified his course; the ford, that in daylight was a terror +to the timid, was passed without demur. One by one their horses +stepped from its dark smooth-sliding water, turned right-handed, and +falling into line set their heads up-stream towards the broken hills +and obscure winding valleys whence the river flowed. + +Hampered by the wounded man's litter and the night, they could not +hope to make more than a league in the hour, and with the first +morning light might expect to be overtaken. But des Ageaux considered +that the Captain of Vlaye, ignorant of his force, would not dare to +follow at speed. And in the beginning all went well. + +Over smooth turf, they made for half a league good progress, the long +bulk of the chalk hill accompanying them on the left, while on the +right the vague gloom of the wooded valley, teeming with mysterious +rustlings and shrill night cries, drew many a woman's eyes over her +shoulder. But, as the bearers of the litter could only proceed at a +walking pace, the long line of shadowy riders had not progressed far +before a gap appeared in its ranks and insensibly grew wider. +Presently the two bodies were moving a hundred yards apart, and +henceforward the rugged surface of the road, which was such as to +hamper the litter without delaying the riders, quickly augmented the +interval. + +The Vicomte was mounted on his own grizzled pony, and with his two +daughters and Roger rode at the head of the first party. They had not +proceeded far before Bonne remarked that her sister was missing. She +was sure that the Abbess had been at her side when she crossed the +ford, and for a short time afterwards. Why had she left them? And +where was she? + +Not in front, for only the Bat and Charles, who had attached himself +to the veteran, and was drinking in gruff tales of leaguer at his +lips, were in front. Behind, then? + +Bonne turned her head and strove to learn. But the light of the stars +and the night--June nights are at no hour quite dark--allowed her to +see only the persons who rode immediately behind her. They were Roger +and the Countess. On their heels came two more--men for certain. The +rest were shadows, bobbing vaguely along, dim one moment, lost the +next. + +Presently Charles, also, missed the Abbess, and asked where she was. + +Roger could only answer: "To the rear somewhere." + +"Learn where she is," Charles returned. "Pass the word back, lad. Ask +who is with her." + +Presently, "She is not with us," Roger passed back word. "She is with +the litter, they say. And it has fallen behind. But the Lieutenant is +with it, so that she is safe there." + +"She were better here," Charles answered shortly. "She is not wanted +there, I'll be sworn!" + +Wanted or not, the Abbess had not put herself where she was without +design. Her passage of arms with des Ageaux had not tended to soften +her feelings. She was now bent on his punishment. The end she knew; +the means were to seek. But with the confidence of a woman who knew +herself beautiful, she doubted not that she would find or create them. +Bitterly, bitterly should he rue the day when he had forced her to +take part against the man she loved. And if she could involve in his +fall this child, this puling girl on whom the Captain of Vlaye had +stooped an eye, not in love or adoration, but solely to escape the +toils in which they were seeking to destroy him--so much the better! +The two were linked inseparably in her mind. The guilt was theirs, the +cunning was theirs, the bait was theirs; and M. de Vlaye's the +misfortune only. So women reason when they love. + +If she could effect the ruin of these two, and at the same time save +the man she adored, her triumph would be complete. If--but, alas, in +that word lay the difficulty; nor as she rode with a dark face of +offence had she a notion how to set about her task. But women's wits +are better than their logic. Men spoke in her hearing of the litter +and of the delay it caused, and in a flash the Abbess saw the means +she lacked, and the man she must win. In the litter lay the one and +the other. + +For the motives that led des Ageaux to bear it with him at the cost of +trouble, of delay, of danger, were no secret to a quick mind. The man +who lay in it was the key to the situation. She came near to divining +the very phrase--a master-card--which des Ageaux had used to the Bat +in the security of the locked room. A master-card he was; a card that +at all costs must be kept in the Lieutenant's hands, and out of +Vlaye's power. + +Therefore, even in this midnight flight they must burden themselves +with his litter. A Duke, a Marshal of France, in favour at Court, and +lord of a fourth of Languedoc, he had but to say the word, and Vlaye +was saved--for this time at any rate. The Duke need but give some +orders, speak to some in power, call on some of those to whom his will +was law, and his _protege_ would not fall for lack of means. Up to +this point indeed, after a fashion which the Abbess did not +understand--for the man had fallen from the clouds--he was ranged +against her friend. But if he could be put into Vlaye's hands, or +fairly or foully led to take Vlaye's side, then the Captain of Vlaye +would be saved. And if she could effect this, would be saved by her. +By her! + +The sweetness of such a revenge only a woman can understand. Her lover +had fancied the Rochechouart's influence necessary to his safety, +and to gain that influence he had been ready to repudiate his love. +What a sweet savour of triumph if she--she whom he was ready to +abandon--could save him by this greater influence, and in the act show +him that a mightier than he was at her feet! + +She had heard stories of the Duke's character, which promised well for +her schemes. At the time of her short sojourn at Court, he had but +lately left his cloister, drawn forth by the tragical death of his +brother. He was then entering upon that career of extravagance, +eccentricity, and vice which, along with his reputation for eloquence +and for strange fits of repentance, astonished even the dissolute +circles of the Court. His name and his fame were in all mouths; a man +quick to love, quick to hate, report had it; a man in whom remorse +followed sharp on sin, and sin on remorse. A man easy to win, she +supposed, if a woman were beautiful and knew how to go about it. + +Ay, if she knew; but there was the difficulty. For he was no common +man, no man of narrow experience, and the ordinary bait of beauty +might not by itself avail. The Abbess, high as her opinion of her +charm stood, perceived this. She recognised that in the circle; in +which he had moved of late beauty was plentiful, and she bent her wits +to the point. After that she might have been riding in daylight, for +all she saw of her surroundings. She passed through the ford and in +her deep thinking saw it not. The long, dark hill on her left, and the +low woods on her right with their strange night noises, and their +teeming evidences of that tragedy of death which fills the world, did +not exist for her. The gleam of the star-lit river caught her eye, but +failed to reach her brain. And if she fell back slowly and gradually +until she found herself but a few paces before the litter and its +convoy, it was not by design only, but in obedience to a subtle +attraction at work within her. + +When her women presently roused her by their complaints that she was +being left behind with the litter, she took it for an omen, and smiled +in the darkness. They, on the contrary, were frightened, nor without +reason. The road they pursued followed the bank of the river; but the +wide vale had been left behind. They had passed into a valley more +strait and gloomy; a winding trough, close pressed by long, hog-shaped +hills, between which the travellers became every moment more deeply +engaged. The stars were fading from the sky, the darkness which comes +before the dawn was on them, and with the darkness a chill. + +This change alarmed the women. But it did not terrify them one half as +much as the marked anxiety of the litter-party. More than once des +Ageaux' voice could be heard adjuring the bearers to move faster. More +than once a rider passed between them and the main body, and on each +of these occasions men fell back and took the places of the old +carriers. But still the cry was "Faster! Faster!" + +In truth the day was on the point of breaking, and the fugitives were +still little more than two leagues from Villeneuve. At any moment they +might be overtaken, when the danger of an attack would be great, since +the light must reveal the paucity of their numbers. In this pinch even +the Lieutenant's stoicism failed him, and moment by moment he trembled +lest the sound of galloping horses reach his ear. Less than an hour's +riding at speed would place his charges in safety; yet for the sake of +a wounded man he must risk all. No wonder that he cried again, +"Faster, men, faster!" and pressed the porters to their utmost speed. + +Soon out of the darkness ahead loomed the Bat. "This will never do, my +lord," he said, reining in his horse beside his leader. He spoke in a +low voice, but the Abbess, a dozen paces ahead, could hear his words, +and even the heavy breathing of the carriers. "To go on at this pace +is to hazard all." + +"You must go forward with the main body!" des Ageaux replied shortly. +"Let the women who are with us ride on and join the others, and do +you--but, no, that will not do." + +"For certain it will not do!" the Bat answered. "It is I must stay, +for the fault is mine. But for me you would have left him, my lord." + +"Do you think we could support him on a horse?" + +"It would kill him!" the Bat rejoined. "But it is not two hundred +paces to the chapel by the ford that you remarked this morning. If we +leave him there, and M. de Vlaye finds him, he will be as anxious to +keep life in him as we are. If, on the other hand, M. de Vlaye +overlooks him, we can bring him in to-morrow." + +"If it must be," des Ageaux answered reluctantly, "we must leave him. +But we cannot leave him without some assistance. Who will stay with +him?" + +"_Diable!_" the Bat muttered. + +"I will not leave him without some one," des Ageaux repeated firmly. +"Some one must stay." + +Out of the darkness came the answer. "I," the Abbess said, "will stay +with him!" + +"You, mademoiselle?" in a tone of astonishment. + +"I," she repeated, "and my women. I," she continued haughtily, "have +nothing to fear from the Captain of Vlaye or his men." + +"And mademoiselle's robe," the Bat muttered with the faintest +suspicion of irony in his tone, "protects her." + +Charles, who had joined them with the Bat, thoughtlessly assented. "To +be sure!" he cried. "Let my sister stay! She can stay without danger." + +Alone of the three des Ageaux remained silent--pondering. He had seen +enough of the Abbess to suspect that it was not humanity alone which +dictated her offer. Probably she desired to rejoin her admirer. In +that case, did she know enough of the fugitives' plans and strength to +render her defection formidable? + +He thought not. At any rate it seemed well to take the chance. He was +taking, he was beginning to see that he was taking a good many +chances. "It seems a good plan, if mademoiselle be indeed willing," he +said. He wished that he could see her face. + +"I have said," she replied coldly, "that I am willing." + +But her women showed forthwith that they were not. What? Remain in +this wilderness in the dark with a dying man? They would be eaten by +wolves, they would be strangled by witches, they would be ravished by +thieves! Never! And in a trice one was in hysterics, deaf to her +mistress's threats and to the Bat's grim hints. The other, after a +conflict, allowed herself to be browbeaten, and sullenly, and with +tears, yielded. But not until the water of the ford rippled about +their horses' hoofs, and the tiny spark of light that through the open +door beaconed the shallows shone in their eyes. + +Had it been day they would have had before them a scene at once wild +and peaceful. On their right, below the ford--which was formed by +the passage of the stream from one side of the narrow valley to the +other--a lofty bluff overhung a black pool. Above the ford, on the +level meadow, and a stone's-throw from the track--if track that could +be called which was not used by a hundred persons in a year--stood a +tiny chapel and cell, which some hermit in past ages had built with +his own hands. The approach of the Crocans had driven his latest +successor from his post; but des Ageaux, passing that way in the day, +had noted the chapel, and with the forethought of the soldier who +expected to return in the dark he had seen the earthen lamp relit. Its +light, he knew, would, in case of need, direct him to the ford. + +At present that lamp, a tiny spark in the blackness, was all they saw. +They made for it through the shallows and over a bed of shingle across +which the horses clattered noisily. In haste they reached the door of +the chapel, and there in a trice--for if the thing was to be done it +must be done quickly--they aided the Abbess and the lay sister to +alight, bore in the litter with the wounded man, and closed the door +on all; this last, that the light might no longer be visible from the +ford. Then they, the men, got themselves to horse again, and away at a +round trot. + +Not without repugnance on the part of several; not without regret and +misgiving. Des Ageaux's heart smote him as his horse's feet carried +him farther and farther away; it seemed so cowardly a thing to leave +women to bear in that wild and lonely place the brunt of whatever +might befall. And Charles, ready as he had been to acclaim the notion, +wondered if he had erred in leaving his sister thus lightly. But in +truth they were embarked in an enterprise whose full perils it lay +with time to disclose. And other and more pressing anxieties soon had +possession of their minds. + +They had been less troubled had they been able to witness the Abbess's +demeanour in her solitude. While her companion, overcome by her fears, +sank down in a fit of hysterical weeping, Odette de Villeneuve +remained standing within the low doorway, and with head erect listened +frowning until the last sound of the horses' hoofs died to the ear. +Then she drew a deep breath, and, turning slowly, she allowed her eyes +to take stock of the place in which she so strangely found herself. + +It was a tiny building of rough-hewn stones, with an altar and +crucifix, also of stone, erected at the end remote from the door. +Along either wall ran a stone bench, on one or other of which the good +fathers must have spent many a summer day watching the ford; for at a +certain point the stone was polished and worn by friction. The litter +and the wounded man filled half the open space, leaving visible only a +floor of trodden earth foul with the droppings of birds and sheep, and +betraying in other respects the results of neglect. Here and there on +some stone larger than its fellows, and particularly on the lintel, a +prentice hand had carved symbols; but, this notwithstanding, the whole +wore by the light of the smoky lamp an aspect far from sacred. + +Yet the prospect of spending several hours in so poor a place did not +appear to depress the Abbess. Her inspection finished, she nodded an +answer to her thoughts, and sitting down on the bench beside the +litter, rested her elbow on her knee and her chin on her hand, and +fixing her large dark eyes on the wounded man, gave herself up, as +completely as if she had been in her own chamber, to her thoughts. + +Her woman, whose complaining, half fractious, half fearful, had sunk +to an occasional sob, presently looked at her, and fascinated by that +gloomy absorption--which might have dealt with the mysteries of the +faith, but turned in fact on the faithlessness of man--she could not +look away. And moments passed; the first pale glimmer of dawn +appeared, and still the two women faced one another across the +insensible man whose heavy breathing, broken from time to time by some +obstruction, was the one sound that vied with the low murmur of the +stream. + +Suddenly the Abbess lifted her head. Mingled with the water's chatter +was a harsher sound--a sound of rattling stones, of jingling steel +and, a second later, of men's voices. She rose slowly to her feet, and +as the other woman, alarmed by the expression of her features, would +have screamed, she silenced her by a fierce gesture. Then she stood, +her hand resting against the wall beside her, and listened. + +She had no doubt that it was he. Her parted lips her eyes, half +fierce, half tender, told as much. It was he, and she had but to open +the door, she had but to show herself in the lighted doorway, and he +would come to her! As the voices of the riders grew, and the rattle of +hoofs among the pebbles ceased, she pictured him abreast of the +hermitage; she fancied, but it must have been fancy, that she could +distinguish his voice. Or no, he would not be speaking. He would be +riding, silent, alone, his hand on his hip, the grey light of morning +falling on his stern face. And at that, at that picture of him, his +deeds and his career, his greatness who had made himself, his firmness +whom no obstacle stayed, rose before her embodied in the solitary +figure riding foremost through the dawn. Her breast rose and fell +tumultuously. The hand that rested on the wall shook. She had only to +open the door, she had only to cry his name aloud, only to show +herself, and he would be at her side! And she would be no longer +against him but with him, no longer would be ranked with his foes--who +were so many--but for him against the world! + +The temptation was so strong that her form seemed to droop and sway as +if a physical charm drew her in the direction of the man she loved, +the man to whom, in spite of his faults, or by reason of them, she +clung in the face of defection. But powerful as was the spell laid +upon her, pride--pride and her will proved stronger. She stiffened +herself; for an instant she did not seem to breathe. Nor was it until +the last faint clink of iron died away that she turned feverish eyes +in search of some crevice, some loophole, some fissure, through which +she might yet see him; yet see, if it were but the waving of his +plume. + +She found none. The only windows, two tiny arrow-slits that had never +known glass, were in the wall remote from the track. On that she set +her teeth to control the moan of disappointment that rose from her +heart; and slowly she sank into her old seat. + +But not into her old reverie. The eyes which she bent on the sick man +were no longer dreamy. On the contrary, they were fixed in a gaze of +eager scrutiny that sought to drag from the Duke's pallid features the +secret of his weakness and waywardness, of his strange nature and +bizarre fame. And unconsciously as she gazed, she bent nearer and +nearer to him; her look grew sharper and more imperious. All hung on +him now--all! Her mind was made up. Fortune had not cast him so timely +in her path, fate had not afforded her the opportunity of which she +had dreamed, without intending her to profit by it, without proposing +to crown the scheme with success. The spell of her lover's presence, +the spell that had obsessed her so short a time before that the +interval could be reckoned by seconds, was broken! Never should it be +hers to play that creeping part, to regain him that way, to return to +him tamely, empty-handed, a suppliant for his love! No, not while it +might be hers to return a conqueror, an equal, with a greater than the +Captain of Vlaye in her toils! + +She rose to her feet, and tasting triumph in advance, she smiled. With +a firm hand, disregarding her woman's remonstrance, she extinguished +the lamp. The pale light of early morning stole in through the narrow +slits, and then for a brief instant the Abbess held her breath; for +the light falling on the Duke's face so sharpened his thin temples and +nervous features, showed him so livid and wan and death-like, that she +thought him gone. He was not gone, but she acted upon the hint. If he +died, where were her schemes and the clever combinations she had been +forming? Quickly she drew from the litter a flagon of broth that had +been mixed with a cunning cordial; and first moistening his lips with +the liquor, by-and-by she contrived to make him swallow some. In the +act he opened his eyes, and they were clear and sensible; but it was +only to close them again with a sigh, half of satisfaction, half of +weakness. Nevertheless, from this time his state was rather one of +sleep, the sleep craved by exhausted nature, than of insensibility or +fever, and with every hour the forces of his youth and constitution +wrought at the task of restoration. + +Odette, brooding over him, watched with satisfaction the return of a +more healthy colour to his cheeks. Time passed, and presently, while +the light was still cold and young, there came an interruption. A +murmur of voices, and the jingle of spur and bit, warned her that M. +de Vlaye, baffled in his attempt to cut off the fugitives before they +found refuge, was returning through the valley. This time, how +different were her sensations. She started to her feet and listened, +and her face grew hard, but under pressure of suspense, not of desire. +Suspense--for if they turned aside, if they entered the deserted +chapel and discovered her, her plan--and her very soul was now set on +its success--perished still-born. + +It was a trying moment, but it passed. Probably Vlaye knew the chapel +of old, and knew that the good father had fled from it. At any rate he +passed by it, and rode on his way. She heard the trampling of the +horses break the singing of the ford; and then she heard only the +murmur of the water and the morning hymn of a lark that, startled by +the passage of the riders, soared above the glen, and with the +sunshine on its throbbing breast, hailed the warm rising of another +day. + +Whether the lark's song appealed to the softer strain in her, or +she began to hate the sordid interior with its grey half-light, the +moment she was sure that the riders had gone on their way she opened +the door and went out. The sun was peeping into the valley and all +nature was astir. The laughing waters of the ford, the steep bluff, +darksome by night, now clad in waving tree-tops, the floor of meadow +emerald-green, all reflected the brightness of a sky in which not one +but half a dozen songsters trilled forth the joy of life. After the +gloom, the vigil, the danger of the night, the scene appealed to her +strongly; and for a brief time, while she stood gazing on the vale +unmarred by human works or human presence, she felt a compunction; +such a feeling as in a similar scene invades the breast of the veteran +hunter, and whispers to him that to carry death into the haunts of +nature is but a sorry task. + +A feeling as quickly suppressed in the one case as in the other. A few +minutes later the Abbess appeared in the doorway, and beckoned to the +woman to join her outside. + +"Give me your hood and veil," she said in a tone that forestalled +demur. "And I need your outer robe! Don't stare, woman!" she continued +fiercely. "Is there any one to see you? Can the hills hurt you? Obey. +It is my pleasure to wear the dress of the order, and I have it not +with me!" + +"But, madam----" + +"Obey, woman, and take my cloak!" the Abbess retorted. "Wrap yourself +in that!" And when the change was made, and she had assumed over her +dress the loose black and white robe of the order, "Now wait for me +here," she said. "And if he call, as is possible, do not go to him, +but fetch me!" + +She departed towards the pool below the ford, and, disappearing behind +a clump of low willows, made, using the still water for a mirror, some +further changes in her toilet. + +Not fruitlessly, for when she returned to the door of the chapel, the +woman who awaited her stared, thinking that she had never seen her +mistress show fairer in her silks than in this black and white, which +she so seldom favoured. And soon there was another who thought--if not +that thought, a similar one. The Duke, opening on the glory of +sunshine and summer warmth, the eyes that had so nearly closed for +good, saw at the foot of his litter a wondrous figure kneeling before +the altar. + +The face of the figure was turned from him, and for a time, between +sleeping and waking, he considered her idly, supposing her now an +angel interceding for him in the other life on which he had entered, +now a nun praying beside his bier; for he took it for certain he was +dead. By-and-by he passed over to the theory of the angel, for the +figure moved, and the sunlight passing in through a tiny window-slit +formed a nimbus about her head. And then again, moving afresh, as in +an ecstacy of devotion, she lifted her eyes to the crucifix, and the +hood falling back with the movement revealed a profile of a beauty and +purity almost unearthly. + +The Duke sighed. He had sighed before, but apparently, for the sigh +had not changed her rapt expression, she had not heard. Now she did +hear. She rose, and with a deep genuflection turned from the altar, +and glided with downcast eyes to his side. Eyes softened to the +meekness of a dove's looked into his, and found that he was awake. +Then, angel or saint, or whatever she was, she made a sign to him not +to speak; and producing, by magic as it seemed, ambrosial food, she +fed him, and with a finger on his lip bade him in gentle accents, +"Sleep!" + +Sleep? To think he could sleep when an angel--and while he laughed in +ridicule of the notion he slept, that heavenly face framed in its +nun's hood, that drooping form with the hands crossed upon the breast +moving before him into the land of visions. He was back again in those +earliest days of his cloistered existence, when to live in an +atmosphere, pure and apart, innocent of the passions and desires of +the world, had been his dream. He had learned--only too soon--that +that atmosphere and that innocence were not to be maintained, though +the walls of a monastery be ten feet through. For the nature which the +thought of such a life had charmed was of all natures the one most +open to worldly fascinations. He had fallen; and he had presently +replaced the vision of being good by the enthusiasm of doing good. He +had lifted his voice, and the preaching of Pere Ange had moved half +Paris to a twenty-four hours' repentance. His own had lasted a little +longer. + +Now, weak and unnerved, he reverted at sight of this beautiful nun's +face to his old visions of a saintly life; and in innocent adoration +he dreamt of naught but her countenance. When he awoke again and found +her still at her devotions, though the sun was high, still at his +service when she found him waking, still moving dovelike and silent +about her ministrations--he watched her everywhere. Several times he +wished to speak, but she laid a finger on her lips, and covering her +hands with her sleeves, sat on the bench beside him, reading her book +of hours. And so during the hazy period of his return to consciousness +he saw her. Awake or drowsing, stung to life by the smart of his hurt +or lulled to sleep by the music of the stream, he had her face always +before him. + +At length there came a time, a little before high noon, when he awoke +with a clearer eye and a mind capable of feeling surprise at his +position. He saw her sitting beside him, but he saw also the rough +grey walls, the altar, the crucifix; and to wonder succeeded +curiosity. What had happened, and how came he there? His eyes sought +her face and remained riveted to it. + +"Where am I?" he whispered. + +She marked that his eyes were clear and his strength greater, and, +"You are in the chapel in the upper valley of the Dronne," she +answered. + +"But I----" He stopped and closed his eyes, brought up by some +confusion in his thoughts. At last, "I fancied I fought with some +one," he whispered. "It was in a courtyard--at night? And there were +lights? It was one of Vlaye's men, and the place was----" He broke off +in the painful effort to remember. His lips moved without sound. + +"Villeneuve," she said. + +"Villeneuve," he whispered gratefully. "But this is not Villeneuve?" + +"We are two leagues from Villeneuve." + +"How come I here?" + +She told him, preserving the gentle placidity which, not without +thought, she had adopted for her _role_. The repulse of Vlaye's men +and the Lieutenant's decision to quit the chateau, that and the night +retreat up to the arrival of the party at the ford--all were told. +Then she broke off. + +"But des Ageaux?" he murmured. "Where is he?" And again, that he might +look round him, he tried to rise. "Where are they all?" he continued +in wonder. "They have not left me?" with a querulous note in his +voice. + +"They are not here," she answered. And gently she induced him to lie +back again. "Be still, I pray," she said. "Be still. You do yourself +no good by moving." + +He sighed. "Where are they?" he persisted. + +"We were hard pressed at the ford," she answered with feigned +reluctance. "And your litter delayed them. It was necessary to leave +you or all had been lost." + +He lay in silence awhile with closed eyes, considering what she had +told him. At last, "And you stayed?" he murmured in so low a voice +that the words were barely audible. "You stayed!" + +"It was necessary," she answered. + +"And you have been beside me all night?" + +She bowed her head. + +His eyes filled with tears, and his lips trembled, for he was very +weak. He groped for her hand, and would have carried it to his lips, +but as men kiss relics or the hands of saints--if she had not withheld +it from him. Settling the thin coverings more comfortably round him, +she gave him to drink again, softly chiding him and bidding him be +silent--be silent and sleep. + +But, "You have been beside me all night!" he repeated. "All night, +alone here, and a woman! A woman!" + +She did not tell him that she was not alone; that her woman was even +then sitting outside, under strict orders not to show herself. For now +she was assured that she was in the right path. She had had +opportunities of studying his countenance while he slept, and she had +traced in it those qualities of enthusiasm and weakness, of the +libertine and the ascetic, which his career so remarkably displayed. +The beauty which in ordinary circumstances his jaded eye, versed in +woman's wiles, might neglect, would appeal with irresistible force in +a garb of saintliness. Nay, more; as he recovered his strength and +returned to his common feelings, it would prove, she felt sure, more +provocative than the most worldly lures. Her resolve to carry the +matter through was now fixed and immutable: and with her eye on the +goal, she neglected no precaution that occurred to her mind. + + + + + CHAPTER XII. + + THE PEASANTS' CAMP. + + +Something after high noon des Ageaux appeared and, whatever the +Abbess's feelings, he was overjoyed to find the three undisturbed. He +despatched a flying party down the valley that he might have notice if +the enemy approached, and then he bent himself to remove the Duke in +safety to his camp. In this the Abbess had her own line to take, and +took it with decision. She represented the patient as worse than he +was, described the fever as still lingering upon him, and using the +authority which her devotion of the night gave her, she insisted that +the Duke should see no one. A kind of shelter from the sun was woven +of boughs, and placed over the litter. He was then lifted and borne +out with care, the Abbess walking on one side, and her woman on the +other. In the open air des Ageaux would have approached and spoken to +him, for between gratitude and remorse the Lieutenant was much +touched. But the authority of the sick-nurse was great then as it is +now. The Abbess repelled him firmly, and, refusing the horse which had +been brought for her, she persisted in walking the whole distance to +the camp--a full league--by the side of the litter. In this way she +fenced others off, and the Duke had her always before him. Always the +opening at the side of the litter framed her face. + +She gave her mind so completely to him that she took no note of their +route, save that they kept the valley, which preserving its flat +bottom now ran between hills of a wilder aspect. It was only when the +troopers, at a word from the Lieutenant, closed in about the litter, +that she observed--though it had been some time in sight--the object +which caused the movement. This was a small hill-town, girt by a +ruinous wall, and buckled with crazy towers, which topped an acclivity +on the right of the valley, and commanded the road. The suspicion with +which her escort regarded the place did not surprise her when she +remarked the filthy forms and wild and savage faces which swarmed upon +the wall. There were women and children as well as men in the place, +and all, ragged and half naked, mopped and mowed at the passers, or, +leaping to their feet, defied them with unspeakable words and +gestures. + +The Abbess looked at them with daunted eyes. There was something +inhuman in their squalor and wildness. "Who are they?" she asked. + +"Crocans," the nearest rider answered. + +"But we are not going to them?" she returned in astonishment. She had +heard that they were bound for the peasants' camp, and her lip had +curled at the information. But if these were Crocans--horror! + +The man spat on the ground. "That is one band, and ours is another," +he replied. "All canaille, but--not all like that, or we had some +strange bed-fellows indeed!" + +He would have said more, but he caught the Lieutenant's eye, and was +silent and five minutes later the Abbess saw a strange sight. The +riders before her wheeled to the left, and, bending low in their +saddles, vanished bodily in the rock that walled the road on that +side. + +A moment later she probed the mystery. In the rock wall which fenced +the track on the left, as the river fenced it on the right, was an +arched opening, resembling the mouth of a cave--of one of those caves +so common in the Limousin. Within was no cave, however, but a spacious +circus of smooth green turf open to the heaven, though walled on every +side by grassy slopes which ran steeply to a height of a hundred feet. +There was no entrance to the basin, but neither its defensible +strength, nor the wisdom of the Crocans in choosing it, was apparent +until the green rampart cast about it by nature was examined and found +to be so scarped on the outer side as to form here a sheer precipice, +there a descent trying to the most active foot. + +A spring near the inner margin of this natural amphitheatre fed a +rivulet which, after passing across it, and dividing it into two +unequal parts, escaped to the river through the rocky gateway. + +The smaller portion of the sward thus divided, a portion raised very +slightly above the rest, had something of the aspect of a stage on a +great scale. About its middle a flat-topped rock rising to a man's +height from the ground had the air of an altar, and this was shaded by +the only tree in the enclosure, a single plane-tree of vast size, +which darkened with its ancient smooth-barked limbs a half-acre of +ground. Probably this rock and this tree had witnessed the meetings of +some primitive people, had borne part in their human sacrifices, and +echoed the cries with which they acclaimed the moment of the summer +solstice. + +To-day this basin, long abandoned to the solitude of the hills, +presented once more a scene of turmoil, such as for strangeness might +rival the gatherings of that remote age. Nor, save for a circumstance +presently to be named, could even the Abbess's sullen curiosity have +withheld a meed of admiration as the panorama unfolded itself before +her. + +Round the edge of the larger half of the amphitheatre ran a long +line--in parts double and treble, of booths open at the front, and +formed, some of branches of trees, some of plaited rushes or osier. +Under these, swarms of men, women, and children lounged in every +posture, while others strolled about the ground before the sheds, +which, crowded with sheep, oxen and horses, wore the aspect of a +rustic fair. The turf that had been so fair a fortnight before was +trodden bare in places, and in others poached and stained by the +crowds that moved on it. Only the immediate bank of the rivulet had +been kept clear. + +The smaller portion of the sward had been given up to des Ageaux and +his band of troopers and refugees. A dozen horses tethered in an +orderly row at the rear of the plane-tree, with a pile of gear at the +head of each, spoke of military order, as did the three or four booths +which had been erected for the accommodation of the Vicomte's party. +But as in such a place and under such circumstances it was impossible +to enforce strict discipline, the curious among the peasants, and not +men only, but women and children, roved in small parties on this side +also, staring and questioning; some with furtive eyes as expecting a +trap and treachery, others watching in clownish amazement the +evolutions of a picked band of three score peasants whom the Bat was +beginning to instruct in the use of their weapons and in the simplest +movements of the field. Here and there on the steep slopes about the +saucer were groups of peasants; and on the top of the ridge, which was +forbidden to the crowd, were five sentinels, stationed beside as many +cairns of stones piled for the purpose at fixed distances from one +another. These were of the Lieutenant's institution, for though the +safety of the camp hung wholly on the command of its natural +battlement, which captured would convert the basin into a death-trap, +the Crocans had kept no regular guard on it. He on his arrival had +entrusted its oversight to the two young Villeneuves, and one or the +other was ever patrolling the length of the vallum, or from the +highest point searching the chaos of uninhabited hills and glens that +stretched on every side. + +This hasty sketch of the scene leaves to be fancied those worst traits +of the camp, of its wildness and savagery, that could not fail to +disquiet the mind even of a bold woman. Many of the peasants were half +naked, others were clad in cow-skins, in motley armour, in sordid, +blood-stained finery. All went unshaven, and many had long, filthy +elf-locks hanging about their faces, and ragged beards reaching to +their girdles. Some had squalid bandages on head or limb, and all were +armed grotesquely with bill-hooks or scythes, or with stakes pointed +and hardened in the fire, or with knotty clubs. M. de Vlaye and his +kind would have seen in them only a horde to be exterminated without +pity or remorse. Nor could their looks have failed to startle the +Abbess, high as was her natural courage--if a thing had not at the +very entrance engaged her attention. + +For there, under the archway, a group of six men sat on their hams, +their backs against the rock. And these were so foul in garb, and +repulsive in aspect, that the common peasants of the camp seemed by +comparison civilised. The Abbess shuddered at the mere look of them, +and would have averted her eyes if they had not, as des Ageaux +entered, risen and barred the way. The foremost, a tall, meagre figure +with a long white beard, and the gleam of madness in his eyes, seized +the Lieutenant's bridle and raising his other hand seemed to forbid +his entrance. "Give us," he cried in a strange patois, "our man! Our +man!" + +The Abbess expected des Ageaux to strike him from his path, or bid his +men ride him down. But the Lieutenant considered with patience the +strange figure clad much as John the Baptist is portrayed in pictures, +and when he answered he spoke calmly. "You are from the town on the +hill?" he said. + +"Ay, and we claim our man!" + +"The man, you mean, whom we took from your hands last night?" + +"Ay, that man!" + +"For what?" + +"That we may burn him," the savage answered, his face lit up by a +gleam of frightful cruelty. "That we may do to him as he has done to +us and our little ones. That we may burn him as he and his have burned +us, from father to son, father to son, by the light of our own thatch. +They have smoked us in our holes," he continued with ferocity, "as +they smoke foxes; and we will smoke him. He has done to us that! And +that!" He turned, and at a sign two of his five fellows stepped +forward and held aloft the maimed and ghastly stumps of their arms. +"And that! And that!" Again two stepped forward and pointed to their +eyeless sockets. "And what he has done to us we will do to him!" + +The Abbess turned sick at the sight. But des Ageaux answered with +quietness. "Yet what has he done to you, old man," he asked, "that you +stand foremost?" + +"He has blinded me there!" the madman answered, and with a strangely +dramatic gesture pointed to his brow. "I am dark at times, and boys +mock me! But to-day I am whole and well!" + +"I will not give him up to you!" the Lieutenant replied with calm +decision. "But if he has done the things of which you tell me, I will +judge him myself and punish him. Nay"--staying them sternly as they +began to cry out upon him, "listen to me now! I have listened to you. +For all who come in to me, and cease from pillage, and burning, and +murder. I give my warrant that the past shall be overlooked. They +shall be free to go back to their villages, or if they dare not go +back they shall be settled elsewhere, with pardon for life and limb. +But for those who do not come in, the burden of all will fall upon +them! The law will pass upon them without mercy, and their gibbets +will be on every road!" + +"Not so!" the other cried, raising himself to his full height and +flinging his lean arms to heaven. "Not so, lord, for the time is full! +Hear me, too, man of blood. We know you. You speak softly because the +time is full, and you would fain cast in your lot with us and escape. +But you are of those who ride in blood, and who trust in the strength +of your armour, and who eat of the fat and drink of the strong, while +the poor man perishes under the feet of your horses, while the earth +groans under the load of your wickedness, and God is mocked. But the +time is full, and there comes an end of your gyves and your gibbets, +your wheels and your molten lead! The fire is kindled that shall burn +you. Is there one of you for ten of us? Can your horses bear you +through the sea when the fire fills all the land? Nay, three months +have we burned all ways, and no man has been able to withstand our +fire! For it grows! It grows!" + +The fierce murmurings of the madman's fellows almost drowned des +Ageaux' voice when he went to answer. "Your blood be on your own +heads!" he said solemnly. "I have spoken you fairly, I have given you +the choice of good and of evil." + +"Nought but evil," the other cried, "can proceed out of your mouth! +Now give us our man!" + +"Never!" + +"Then will we burn you for him," the madman shrieked, in sudden +frenzy, "when you fall into our hands. You and these--women with +breasts of flint and hearts of the rock-core, who bathe in the blood +of our infants, and make a holiday of our torments! Beware, for when +next we meet, you die!" + +"Be it so!" des Ageaux replied, sternly restraining his men, who would +have fallen on the hideous group. "But begone!" + +They turned away, mopping and mowing--one was a leper--and lifting +hands of imprecation. And the Abbess, while the litter was being +lifted, was left for a moment with des Ageaux. She hated him, but she +did not understand him; and it was the desire to understand him that +led her to speak. + +"Why did you not seize the wretches," she asked, "and punish them?" + +"Their turn will come," he replied coldly. "I would have saved them if +I could." + +"Saved them?" she exclaimed. "Why?" + +"Who knows what they have suffered to bring them to this?" + +She laughed in scorn of his weakness--who fancied himself a match for +the Captain of Vlaye! His cold words, his even manner, had somewhat +deceived her. But now she saw that he was a fool, a fool. She saw that +if she detached Joyeuse there was nothing in this man M. de Vlaye need +fear. + +She left him then. She had had no sleep the previous night, and loth +as she was to lose sight of the Duke or to give another the chance of +supplanting her, she knew that she must rest. So weary was she after +she had eaten that the rough couch in the hut set apart for her--her +women after the mode of the day slept across the door or where they +could--might have been a chamber in the heart of some guarded palace +instead of a nook sheltered from curious eyes only by a wall of +boughs. She had that healthiness which makes nerves and even +conscience superfluous, and could not anywhere have slept better or +been less aware of the wild life about her. The slow tramp of armed +men, the voices of the watch upon the earth-wall, that to waking ears +told of danger and suspicion--these were no more to her in her fatigue +than the silent march of the summer stars across the sky. + +When she awoke on the following morning, refreshed and full of energy, +the sun was an hour high, and the peasants' camp was astir. In one +place the Bat was drilling his three score men as if he had never +ceased; in another food was being apportioned, and forage assigned. +Neither des Ageaux nor her brothers were visible, but hard by her door +the Vicomte, attended by Bonne and Solomon, sat with a hand on either +knee, and gazed piteously on the abnormal scene. + +The uppermost feeling in the old man's mind was a querulous wonder; +first that he had allowed himself to be dragged from his house, +secondly that, even since Coutras, things were suffered to come to +this pass. How things had come to this, why his life and home had been +broken up, why he had had no voice in the matter, and why his sons, +even crooked-back Roger, went, and came, and ordered, without so much +as a _by your leave_ or an _if you please_--these were points that by +turns puzzled and enraged him, and in the consideration of which he +found no comfort so great as that which Solomon assiduously +administered. + +"Ah!" the old servant remarked more than once, as he surveyed with a +jaundiced eye the crowded camp beyond the rivulet, "they are full of +themselves! But I mind the day--it was when you entertained the +Governors, my lord--when they'd have looked a few beside the servants +we had to supper in the courtyard! A few they'd look. I'd sixty-two +men, all men of their hands, and not naked gipsies like these, to my +own table!" + +Which was true; but Solomon forgot to add that it was the only table. + +"Ay!" the Vicomte said, pleased, though he knew that Solomon was +lying. "Times are changed." + +"Since Coutras--devil take them!" Solomon rejoined, wagging his beard. +"There were men then. 'Twas a word and a blow, and if we didn't run +fast enough it was to the bilboes with us, and we smarted. Your +lordship remembers. But now, Heaven help us," he continued with +growing despondency as his eye alighted on des Ageaux, who had just +appeared in the distance, "the men might be women! Might be women, and +mealy-mouthed at that!" + +The Vicomte laughed an elderly cackling laugh. "You didn't think, man, +that the Villeneuves would come to this?" he said. + +"Never! And would no wise ha' believed it!" + +"Who were once masters of all from Barbesieux to Vlaye!" + +"And many a mile further!" Solomon cried, leaping on the proffered +hobby. "There were the twenty manors of Passirac"--he began to count +on his hands. "And the farms of Perneuil, more than I have fingers and +toes. And the twenty manors of Corde, and the great mill there--the +five wind-mills of Passirac I don't think worth mentioning, though +they would make many a younger son a portion. Then the Abbey lands of +Vlaye, and the great mill there that took in toll as much as would +keep a vicomte of these times, saving your lordship's presence. And +then at Brenan----" + +Bonne, listening idly, heard so much. Then the Abbess, who, unnoticed, +had joined the group, touched her elbow, and muttered in her ear: "Do +you see?" + +"What?" Bonne asked innocently. + +The Abbess raised her hand. "Why he has dragged us all here," she +said. + +Bonne followed the direction of her sister's hand, and slowly the +colour mounted to her cheeks. But, "Why?" she asked, "I don't +understand." + +"You don't understand," Odette answered, "don't you? It is plain +enough--for the blind." And she pointed again to the Lieutenant, who +was standing at same distance from the group in close talk with the +Countess. "The Lieutenant of Perigord is a great man while the King +pleases, and when the King no longer pleases is an adventurer like +another! A broken officer living at ordinaries," with a sneer, "at +other men's charges. Such another as the creature they call the Bat! +No better and no worse! But the Lieutenant of Perigord with the lands +and lordships of Rochechouart were another and a different person. And +none sees that more clearly than the Lieutenant of Perigord. He has +made his opportunity, and he is not going to waste it. He has brought +her here, and not for nothing." + +Bonne had an easy retort. "At least he is not the first to see his +interest there!" lay ready to her tongue. But she did not utter it. +She was silent. Her colour fluttered, as the tender, weakling hope +that she had been harbouring, for a few hours, died within her. Of +course she should have known it! The prize that had attracted the +Captain of Vlaye, the charm that had ousted her handsome sister from +his heart--was it likely that M. des Ageaux would be proof against +these--proof against them when she herself had no prior claim nor such +counter-claims as beauty and brilliance? When she was but plain, +homely, and country-bred, as her father often told her? She had been +foolish; foolish in harbouring the unmaidenly hope, the forward +thought; foolish now in feeling so sharp and numbing a pain. + +But perhaps most foolish in her inability to await his coming. For he +and the little Countess were approaching the group, at a slow pace; +the girl talking with an animation that showed she had quite forgotten +her shyness. Bonne marked the manner, the smile, the confiding upward +look, the lifted hand; and she muttered something, and escaped before +the two came within earshot. + +She wanted to be alone, quite alone, to have this out with herself; +and she made for a tiny cup in the hillside, hidden from the camp by +the thick branches of the plane-tree. She had discovered it the day +before, but when she gained it now, there in the hollow sat Roger, +looking down on the scene below. + +He nodded as if he were not in the best of tempers; which was strange, +for he had been in high spirits an hour before. She sat down beside +him, having no choice, but some minutes elapsed before he opened his +mouth. Then, "Lord," he exclaimed, with something between a groan and +a laugh, "what a fool a man can be!" + +She did not answer; perhaps for the word "man" she was substituting +the word "woman." He moved irritably in his seat. "Hang it!" he +exclaimed. "Say something, Bonne! Of course it seems funny to you that +because she thanked me prettily the day I tried to cover her retreat +to the house and--and because she talked to me the night before last +as we rode--as if she liked it, I mean--I should forget who she is!" + +"Who she is," Bonne repeated quietly, thinking of some one else who +had forgotten. + +"And who I am!" he answered. "As if the Vicomte had not ground it into +me enough! If I were Charles, she would still be--who she is, and meat +for my master. But as I am what I am," he laughed ruefully, "would you +have thought I could be such a fool, Bonne?" + +"Poor Roger," she said gently. + +"She clung to me that day, when I ran with her. But, dash it"--rubbing +his head--"I must not think of it. I suppose she would have clung to +old Solomon just the same!" + +"I am afraid so!" Bonne said, smiling faintly. It was certain that she +had not clung to any one. Yet there were analogies. + +"I suppose you--you saw them just now?" + +"Yes, I saw them." + +"She never talked to me like that! Why should she--a thing like me." +Poor Roger! "I knew the moment I cast eyes on them. You did, too, I +suppose?" + +"Yes," she answered. + +Perhaps Roger had hoped in his heart for a different reply, for he +stared gloomily at the swarming huts visible above the tree. And +finally, "There is Charles," he said, "walking the ridge--against the +sky-line there! Why cannot I be like him, as happy as a king, with my +head full of battles and sieges, and the Bat more to me than any woman +in the world! Why cannot I? With such a pair of shoulders as I have--" + +"Dear lad!" + +"I should be in his shoes and he in mine! Lord, what a fool!" with +gloomy unction. "What a fool! I must needs think of _her_ when a +peasant girl would not look at me. I must needs think of the Countess +of Rochechouart! Oh, Lord, as if I had anything to give her! Or aught +I could do for her!" + +Bonne did not reply on the instant, But presently, "There is something +you can do for her," she ventured. "It is not much, but----" + +"What?" he said. "I know nothing." + +"You can help him." + +"I?" + +"The mouse helped the lion. You can help him and be at his side, and +guard him in danger--for her sake. Just as," Bonne continued, her +voice sinking a little, "if you were a girl, and--and felt for him as +you feel for her, you could watch over her and protect her and keep +her safe--for his sake. Though it would be harder for a woman, because +women are jealous," Bonne added thoughtfully. + +"And men too!" Roger rejoined from the depths of his small experience. +"All the same I will do it. And I am glad it is he. He won't beat her, +or shut her up and leave her in some lonely house as Court people do. +I believe," he continued gloomily, "I'd as soon it was he as any one." + +Bonne nodded. "That is agreed then," she said softly, though a moment +before she had sighed. + +"Agreed?" rather grumpily. "Well, if one person can agree, it is!" And +then, thinking he had spoken thanklessly to the sister who had been +his friend and consoler in many a dark hour when the shadow of his +deformity had hidden the sun, he laid his hand on hers and pressed it. +"Well, agreed it is!" he said more brightly. "They came from their +outside world to our poor little life, and we must help them back +again, I suppose. I would not wish them ill, if--if it would make me +straight again." + +"That is a big bribe," she said, smiling. "But neither would I--if it +would make me as handsome as Odette!" + +"No!" + +They sat silent then. Far away on their left, where lay the entrance +to the camp from the river gorge, men were piling stones under the +archway, so as to leave but a narrow passage. Below them on the right +the Bat was drilling his pikemen, and alternately launching his lank +form this way and that in a fever of impatience. On the sky-line men +were pacing to and fro, searching with keen eyes the misty distance of +glen and hill; and ever and anon the squeal of a war-horse rang above +the multitudinous sounds of the camp. On every side, wherever the eye +rested, it discovered signs of strife and turmoil, harbingers of pain +and death. + +But though the two who looked down on the scene neither knew it nor +thought of it, with them in their little hollow was a power mightier +than any, the power that in its highest form does indeed make the +world go round; the one power in the world that is above fortune, +above death, above the creeds--or, shall we say, behind them. For with +them was love in its highest form, the love that gives and does not +ask, and being denied--loves. In their clear moments men know that +this love is the only real thing in the world; and a thousand times +more substantial, more existent, than the objects we grasp and see. + + + + + CHAPTER XIII. + + HOSTAGES. + + +There is born of the enthusiasm of self-denial a happiness that while +the fervour lasts seems all-sufficing. The skirmish that has routed +the van of jealousy stands for the battle; nor does the victor foresee +that with the fall of night the enemy will flock again to the attack, +and by many an insidious onset strive to change the fortune of the +day. + +Still once to have felt the generous impulse, once to have trodden +self underfoot and risen god-like above the baser thoughts, is +something. And if Bonne and her brother were destined to find the +victory less complete than they thought, if they were to know moments +when the worst in them raised its head, they were but as the best of +us. And again--a reflection somewhat more humorous--had these two been +able to read the mind of the man of whom each was thinking, they had +met with so curious an enlightenment that they had hardly been able to +look at one another. To say that des Ageaux entertained no tender +feeling for any one were to say more than the truth; for during the +last few days a weakness had crept unwelcome and unbidden into his +heart. But he kept it sternly in the background--he who had naught to +do with such things--and it did not tend in the direction of the +Countess. In point of fact the Lieutenant had other and more serious +food for thought; other and more pressing anxieties than love. +Forty-eight hours had disclosed the weakness of the position in which +he had chosen to place himself. He foresaw, if not the certainty, the +probability of defeat. And defeat in the situation he had taken up +might be attended by hideous consequences. + +These were not slow to cast their shadows. The two on the hill had not +sat long in silent companionship before the sounds which rose from the +camp began to take a sterner note. Roger was the first to mark the +change. Rousing himself and shaking off his lugubrious mood, "What is +that?" the lad asked. "Do you hear, Bonne? It sounds like trouble +somewhere." + +"Trouble?" she repeated, still half in dreams. + +"Yes, by Jove, but--listen! And what has become"--he was on his feet +by this time--"of the Bat's ragged regiment? They have vanished." + +"They must be behind the tree," Bonne answered. And moved by the same +impulse they walked a little aside along the slope until they could +see the section of the camp immediately below them, which had been +hidden hitherto by the branches of the great plane-tree. + +The little group which Bonne had left when her feelings compelled her +to flight remained in the same place. But all who formed it, the +Vicomte and his eldest daughter as well as des Ageaux and the +Countess, were now on their feet. The Vicomte and the ladies stood +together in the background, while des Ageaux, who had placed himself +before them, confronted an excited body of men, some hundred in +number, and composed in part at least of those whom the Bat had been +lately drilling. Whether these had broken from his control and +gathered their fellows as they moved, or the impulse had come from +outside and they were but recruits, their presence rendered the +movement more formidable. They were not indeed of so low and savage a +type as the creatures who had met des Ageaux in the gate the previous +day, but viewed in this serried mass, their lowering brutish faces and +clenched hands called up a vivid sense of danger. They must have made +some outcry as they approached, or Roger had not noticed their +assemblage. But now they were fallen silent. A grim mass of scowling, +hard-breathing men, then small suspicious eyes glaring through tangled +locks irresistibly reminded the observer of that quarry the most +dangerous of all the beasts of chase, the wild boar. + +Bonne's colour faded as her eyes took in the meaning of the scene. She +grew still paler as her brain pictured for the first time the things +that might happen in this camp of clowns of whose real sentiments the +intruders had so little knowledge, at whose possible treachery it was +so easy to guess. Time has not wiped, time never will wipe from the +French memory the fear of a Jacquerie. The horrors of that hideous +revolt, of its rise and its suppression are stamped on the minds of +the unborn. "What is it?" she repeated more than once, her heart +fluttering. How very, very near he stood--on whom all depended--to the +line of scowling men! + +"A mutiny, I fear!" Roger answered hastily. "Come!" And, with face +slightly flushed, he hurried, running and sliding down the slope. + +She was not three paces behind him when he reached the foot. Here they +lost sight of the scene, but quickly passed between two huts and +reached the Vicomte's side. Des Ageaux was speaking. + +"I cannot give you the man," he was saying, "but I can give you +justice." + +"Justice?" the spokesman of the peasants retorted bitterly--he wore +the dress of a smith, and belonged to that craft. "Who ever heard but +of one sort of justice for the poor man? Justice, Sir Governor, is the +poor man's right to be hung! The poor man's right to be scourged! The +poor man's right to be broken on the wheel! To see his hut burned and +his wife borne off! That is the justice"--rudely--"the poor man gets-- +be it high or low, king's or lord's!" + +"Ay, ay!" the stern chorus rose from a hundred throats behind him, +"that is the poor man's justice!" + +"It is to put an end to such things I am here!" des Ageaux replied, +marking with a watchful eye the faces before him. He was far from +easy, but he had handled men of their kind before, and thought that he +knew them. + +"There was never a beginning of such things, and there will never be +an end!" the smith returned, the hopelessness of a thousand years of +wrong in his words. "Never! But give us this man--he has done all +these things, he and his master, and we will believe you." + +"I cannot give him to you," des Ageaux answered. The same prisoner, +one of Vlaye's followers, was in question whom the Old Crocans had +yesterday required to be given up to them. "But I have told you and I +tell you again," the Lieutenant continued, reading mischief in the +men's faces, "that you shall have justice. If this man has wronged you +and you can prove it----" + +"If!" the peasant cried, and baring his right arm he raised his +clenched fist to heaven. + +But the Lieutenant went on as if the man had not spoken. "If you can +prove these things upon him by witnesses here present----" + +"You will give him to us?" + +"No, I will not do that!" + +"You will give him to us!" the smith repeated, refusing to hear the +denial. And all along the line of scowling faces--the line that +wavered ominously at moments of emotion as if it would break about the +little group--ran a swift gleam of white teeth. + +But des Ageaux did not blench. He raised his hand for silence, and his +voice was steady as a rock as he made answer. "No," he said, "I will +not give him to you. He belongs neither to me nor to you, but to God +and the King, whose is justice." + +"To God!" the other snarled, "whose is justice! Rather, whose servants +hold the lamb that the devils may flay it! And for the King, Sir +Governor, a fig for him! Our own hands are worth a dozen kings!" + +"Stay!" The line was swaying; in the nick of time des Ageaux' voice, +and perhaps something in his eye, stayed it. "Listen to me one +moment," he continued. "To-morrow morning--for I have not +time to-day--the man you accuse shall be tried. If he be guilty, +before noon he shall die. If he be not guilty, he shall go!" + +A murmur of protest. + +But des Ageaux raised his head higher and spoke more sternly. "He +shall go!" he repeated--and for the moment he mastered them. "If he be +innocent he shall go! What more do you claim? To what beyond have you +a right? And now," he continued, as he saw them pause angry but +undecided, "for yourselves! I have told you, I tell you again that +this is your last chance. That I and the offer I make you are your +last hope! There is a man there"--with his forefinger he singled out a +tall youth with a long, narrow face and light blue eyes--"who promises +that when you are attacked he will wave his arm, and Vlaye and his +riders will fall on their faces as fell the walls of Jericho! Do you +believe him? Will you trust your wives and children to him? And +another"--again he singled out a man, a beetle-browed dwarf, hideous +of aspect, survivor of some ancient race--"who promises victory if you +will sacrifice your captives on yonder stone! Do you believe him? And +if you do not trust these, in what do you trust? Can naked men stand +before mailed horses? Can you take castles with your bare hands? You +have left your villages, you have slain your oxen, you have burned +your tools, you have slain your lords' men, you have taken the field. +Have peasants ever done these things--and not perished sooner or later +on gibbets and in dungeons? And such will be your fate, and the fate +of your women and your children, if you will go your way and will not +listen!" + +"What do you promise us?" The question in various forms broke from a +dozen throats. + +"First, justice on the chief of your oppressors." + +"The Captain of Vlaye?" + +"The same." + +"Ay, ay!" Their harsh cries marked approval. Some with dark looks spat +on their hands and worked their right arms to and fro. + +"Next," des Ageaux continued, "that which never peasant who took the +field had yet--pardon for the past. To those who fear not to go back, +leave to return to their homes. To those who have broken their lords' +laws a settlement elsewhere with their wives and children. To every +man of his hands, when he leaves, ten deniers out of the spoils of +Vlaye to carry him to his home." + +Nine out of ten marked their approval by a shout; and des Ageaux +heaved a sigh of relief, thinking all well. But the smith turned and +exchanged some words with the men nearest him, chiding them and +reminding them of something. Then he turned again. + +"Fine words! But for all this what pledge, Sir Governor?" he asked +with a sneer. "What warranty that when we have done our part we shall +not to gibbet or gallows like our fellows?" + +"The King's word!" + +"Ay? And hostages? What hostages?" + +"Hostages?" The Lieutenant's voice rang sharp with anger. + +"Ay, hostages!" the man answered sturdily, informed by the murmurs of +his fellows that he had got them back into the road from which des +Ageaux' arguments had led them. "We must have hostages." + +Clearly they had made up their minds to this, they had determined on +it beforehand. For with one voice, "We must have hostages!" they +thundered. + +Des Ageaux paused before he answered--paused in dismay. It looked as +if--already he feared it--he had put out his hand too far. As if he +had trusted too implicitly to his management of men, and risked not +himself only, but women; women of the class to which these human +beasts set down their wrongs, women on whom the least accident or +provocation might lead them to wreak their vengeance! If it were so! +But he dared not follow up the thought, lest the coolness on which all +depended should leave him. Instead, "We are all your hostages," he +said. + +"And what of those? And those?" the smith answered. With a cunning +look he pointed to the two knots of troopers whom des Ageaux had +brought with him. "And by-and-by there will be more. Madame"--he +pointed to the little Countess who had shrunk to Bonne's side, and +stood with the elder girl's arm about her--"Madame has sent for +fifty riders from her lands in the north--on, we know! And the Duke +who is ill, for another hundred and fifty from Bergerac! When they +come"--with a leer--"where will be our hostages? No, it is now we must +talk, Sir Governor, or not at all." + +Des Ageaux, his cheek flushed, reflected amid an uneasy silence. He +knew that two of his riders were away bearing letters, and that four +more were patrolling the valley; that two with Charles de Villeneuve +were isolated on the ridge, unable to help; in a word, that no more +than twelve or thirteen were within call, who, separated from their +horses, were no match for a mob of men outnumbering them by five or +six to one, and whom the first blow would recruit from every quarter +of the seething camp. He had miscalculated, and saw it. He had +miscalculated, and the consequences he dare not weigh. The men in +whose power he had placed himself--and so much more than himself--were +not the dull clods he had deemed them, but alike ferocious and +suspicious, ready on the first hint of treachery to exact a fearful +vengeance. No man had ever kept faith with them; why should they +believe that he would keep faith? He shut his teeth hard. "I will +consider the matter," he said, "and let you know my answer to-morrow +at noon." He spoke as ending the conference, and he made as if he +would turn on his heel. + +"Ay, when madame's fifty spears are come?" the smith cried. "That will +not do! If you mean us well give us hostages. If you mean us ill," +taking one step forward with an insolent gesture---- + +"Fool, I mean you no ill!" the Lieutenant answered sternly. "If I +meant you ill, why should I be here?" + +But "Hostages! Hostages!" the crowd answered, raising weapons and +fists. + +Their cries drowned his words. A score of hands threatened him. +Without looking, he felt that the Bat and his troopers, a little clump +apart, were preparing to intervene, and he knew that on his next +movement all depended. The pale faces behind him he could not see, for +he was aware that if his eye left his opponents, they would fall upon +him. At any second a hurried gesture, or the least sign of fear might +unloose the torrent, and well was it for all that in many a like scene +his nerve had been tempered to hardness. He shrugged his shoulders. + +"Well," he said, "you shall have your hostages." + +"Ay, ay!" A sudden relaxation, a falling back into quietude of the +seething mass approved the consent. + +"You shall have my lieutenant," he continued, "and----" + +"And I will be the other," cried Roger manfully. He stepped forward. +"I am the son of M. le Vicomte there! I will be your hostage," he +repeated. + +But the smith, turning to his followers, grinned. "We'd be little the +better for them," he said. "Eh? No, Sir Governor! We must have our +choice!" + +"Your choice, rogues?" + +"Ay, we'll have the pick!" the crowd shouted. "The best of the +basket!" Amid ferocious laughter. + +Des Ageaux had suspected for some hours past that he had done a +foolish, a fatally foolish thing in trusting these men, whom no man +had ever trusted. He saw now that only two courses stood open to him. +He might strike the smith down at his feet, and risk all on the effect +which the act might have on his followers; or he might yield what they +asked, allow them to choose their hostages, and trust to time and +skill for the rest. His instincts were all for the bolder course, but +he had women behind him, and their chance in a conflict so unequal +must be desperate. With a quietness and firmness characteristic of the +man he accepted his defeat. + +"Very well," he said. "It matters nothing. Whom will you have?" + +"We'll have you," the smith replied grinning, "and her!" With a grimy +hand he pointed to the little Countess who with Bonne's arm about her +and Fulbert at her elbow was staring fascinated at the line of savage +faces. + +"You cannot have a lady!" the Lieutenant answered with a chill at his +heart. + +"Ay, but it is she who has the riders who are coming!" the smith +retorted shrewdly. "It is her we want and it is her we'll have! We'll +do her no harm, and she may have her own hut on our side, and her +woman with her, and a man if she pleases. And you may have a hut +beside hers, if one," with a wink, "won't do for the two." + +"But, man," des Ageaux cried, his brow dark, "how can I take Vlaye and +his castle while I lie a hostage?" + +"Oh, you shall go to and fro, to and fro, Sir Governor!" the smith +answered lightly. "We'll not be too strict if you are there of nights. +And we will know ourselves safe. And as we live by bread," he +continued stoutly, "we'll do her no harm if faith be kept with us!" + +Des Ageaux endeavoured to hide his emotion, but the sweat stood on his +brow. Defeat is bitter to all. To the man who has long been successful +most bitter. + +Suddenly, "I will go!" said the Countess bravely. And she stepped +forward by the Lieutenant's side, a little figure, shrinking, yet +resolute. "I will go," she repeated, trembling with excitement, yet +facing the men. + +"No!" Roger cried--and then was silent. It was not for him to speak. +What could he do? + +"We will all go!" Bonne said. + +"Nay, but that will not do," the smith replied, with a sly grimace. +"For then they"--he pointed to the little knot of troopers who waited +with sullen faces a short arrow-shot away--"would be coming as well. +The lady may bring a woman if she pleases, and her man there, as I +said." He nodded towards Fulbert. "But no more, or we are no gainers!" + +To the Lieutenant that moment was one of the bitterest of his life. +He, the King's Governor, who had acted as master, who had forced the +Vicomte and his party to come into his plans, whether they would or +no, stood out-generalled by a mob of peasants, whom he had thought to +use as tools! And not only that, but the young Countess, whose safety +he had made the pretext for the abandonment of the chateau, must +surrender herself to a risk more serious--ay, far more serious, than +that from which he had made this ado to save her! + +Humiliation could scarcely go farther. It was to his credit, it was +perhaps some proof of his capacity for government that, seeing the +thing inevitable, he refrained from useless words or protest, and +sternly agreed. He and the Countess would remove to the farther side +of the camp in the course of the day. + +"With a man and a maid only?" the smith persisted, knitting his brows. +Having got what he had asked he doubted. + +"The Countess of Rochechouart will be so attended," the Lieutenant +answered sternly. "And you, Sir Governor?" + +"I am a soldier," he retorted, so curtly that they were abashed. With +some muttering they began to melt away. Awhile they stood in groups, +discussing the matter. Then gradually they retired across the rivulet +to their quarters. + +The Lieutenant had been almost happy had that ended it. But he had to +face those whom he had led into this trap, those whom he had forced to +trust him, those whom he had carried from their home. He was not long +in learning their views. + +"A soldier!" the Vicomte repeated, taking up his last word in a voice +shaking with passion. "You call yourself a soldier and you bring us to +this! To this!" With loathing he described the outline of the camp +with his staff. "You a soldier, and cast women to these devils! Pah! +Since Coutras there may be such soldiers! But in my time, no!" + +He did not reply: and the Abbess took up the tale. "Excellent!" she +said, with bitterest irony. "We are all now assured of your prudence +and sagacity, sir! The safety and freedom which we enjoy here, the +ease of mind which the Countess will doubtless enjoy tonight----" + +"Do not frighten her, mademoiselle!" he said, repressing himself. +Then, as if an impulse moved him, he turned slowly to Bonne. "Have you +nothing to add, mademoiselle?" he asked, in a peculiar tone. + +"Nothing!" she answered bravely. And then--it needed some courage to +speak before her father and sister, "Were I in the Countess's place I +should not fear. I am sure she will be safe with you." + +"Safe!" Odette cried, her eyes flashing. In the excitement of the +moment the plans she had so recently made were forgotten. "Ay, as safe +as a lamb among wolves! As safe as a nun among robbers! So safe that I +for one am for leaving this moment. Ay, for leaving, and now!" she +continued, stamping her foot on the sward "What is it to us if this +gentleman, who calls himself the Governor of Perigord--and may be +such, I care not whether he is or not--has a quarrel with M. de Vlaye +and would fain use us in it as he uses these brute beasts? What, I +say, is it to us? Or why do we take part? M. le Vicomte"--she turned +to her father--"if you are still master of Villeneuve, you will order +our horses and take us thither. We have naught to fear, I say it +again, we have naught to fear at M. de Vlaye's hands; and if we fall +into them between this and Villeneuve, so much the better! But if we +stay here we have all to fear." In truth she was honestly frightened. +She thought the case desperate. + +"Mademoiselle----" + +"No, sir!" she retorted, turning from him. "I did not speak to you; +but to you, M. le Vicomte! Sir, you hear me? Is it not your will that +we order the horses and go from here?" + +"If we can go safely----" + +"You cannot go safely!" des Ageaux said, with returning decision. +"If you have nothing to fear from the Captain of Vlaye, the Countess +has. Nor is that all. These men"--he pointed in the direction +of the peasants, who were buzzing about their huts like a swarm of +bees--"have forced my hand, but through fear and distrust, not in +malice. They mean us no harm if we mean them none. But the Old +Crocans, as they call themselves, in the town on the hill--if you fall +into their hands, M. le Vicomte--and beyond the lines of this camp no +one is safe from their prowling bands--then indeed God help you!" + +"God help us whether or no!" the Vicomte answered in senile anger. "I +wash my hands of it all, of it all! I am nothing here, and have been +nothing! Let who will do! The world is mad!" + +"Certainly we were mad when we trusted you!" the Abbess cried, +addressing des Ageaux. "Never so mad! But if I mistake not, here is +another with good news! Oh!" to the Bat, who, with a shamefaced air, +was hovering on the skirts of the group, as if he were not sure of his +reception, "speak, sir, without reserve! We all know"--in a tone of +mockery--"how fair and safely we stand!" + +Des Ageaux turned to his follower. "What is it?" he asked. + +"The prisoner is missing, my lord." The Abbess laughed bitterly. The +others looked at the Bat with faces of dismay. "Missing? The man we +have promised to hold for them. How?" des Ageaux exclaimed sternly. +This was a fresh blow and a serious one. + +"When I saw, my lord, that we were like to be in trouble here, I drew +off the two men who were guarding him. He was bound, and--we had too +few as it was." + +"But he cannot have passed the ramparts." + +"Anyway we cannot find him," the Bat answered, looking ashamed and +uncomfortable. "I've searched the huts, and----" + +"Is it known?" + +"No, my lord." + +"Then set the guards as before over the hut in which you had him, and +see that the matter does not leak out to-night." + +"But if," the Bat objected, "they discover that he is gone while you +are with them to-night, my lord, they are in an ugly mood, and----" + +"They must not discover it!" des Ageaux answered firmly. "Go, see to +it yourself. And let two men whom you can trust continue the search, +but as if they had lost something of their own." + +The Bat went on his errand; and the Abbess, with this fresh weapon in +her quiver, prepared to resume the debate. But the Lieutenant would +not have it. "Mademoiselle," he said, with a look which silenced her, +"if you say more to alarm the Countess, whose courage"--he bowed in +the direction of the pale frightened girl--"is an example to us all, +she will not dare to go this evening. And if she does not go, the +lives of all will be in danger. An end of this, if you please!" + +And he turned on his heel, and left them. + + + + + CHAPTER XIV. + + SAINT AND SINNER. + + +An hour later the Lieutenant was with the Duke in his quarters, and +had imparted to him what he knew of the position. The Duke listened, +not much affected; nay, with something approaching indifference. + +"It is a question of four days then?" he rejoined, as he painfully +moved himself on his litter. They had made him as comfortable as they +could, screening the head of his couch, which was towards the hut +door, with a screen of wattle. Against one wall, if wall that could be +called which was of like make with the screen, ran a low bench of +green turves, and on this des Ageaux was seated. + +"Of four days--and nights," the Lieutenant made answer, masking a +slight shiver. He was not thinking of his own position, but of the +young Countess; neither her fears nor the courage with which she +controlled them were a secret from him. "To-day is Saturday. The +Countess's men should be here by Monday, your men, M. de Joyeuse, by +Wednesday. All will be well then; and I doubt not with such support we +can handle the Captain of Vlaye. But until then we run a double risk." + +"Of Vlaye, of course." + +"And of our own people if anything occur to exasperate them." + +Joyeuse laughed recklessly. "_Vogue la galere!_" he cried. "The plot +grows thicker. I came for adventure, and I have it. Ah, man, if you +had lived within the four walls of a convent!" + +Des Ageaux shook his head. He knew the wanton courage of the man, who, +sick and helpless, found joy in the peril that surrounded them. But he +was very far from sharing the feeling. The dangers that threatened the +party lay heavy on the man who was responsible for all. The tremors of +the young girl who must share his risk that evening, the bitter +reproaches of the Abbess and her father, even the confidence that +Bonne's eyes rather than her lips avowed, all tormented him; so that +to see this man revelling in that which troubled him so sorely, +insulted his reason. + +"I fancy, my lord," he said, a faint note of resentment in his tone, +"if you had had to face these rogues this morning you had been less +confident this evening." + +"Were they so spiteful?" The Duke raised himself on his elbow. "Well, +I say again, you made a mistake. You should have run the spokesman +through the throat! Ca! Sa!" He made a pass through the air. "And +trust me, the rest of the knaves----" + +"Might have left none of us alive to tell the tale!" the Lieutenant +retorted. + +"I don't know that!" + +"But I suspect it!" des Ageaux replied warmly. "And I do beg you, my +lord, to be guided in this. I am more than grateful for the impulse +which led you to come to my assistance. But honestly I had been more +glad if you had brought a couple of hundred spears with you. As it is, +the least imprudence may cost us more than our own lives! And it +behoves us all to remember that!" + +"The least imprudence!" + +"Certainly." + +The Duke laughed softly--at nothing that appeared. "So!" he said. "The +least imprudence may destroy us, may it? The least imprudence!" And +then, suddenly sobered, he fixed his eyes on the Lieutenant. "But what +of letting your prisoner go, eh? What of that? Was not that an +imprudence, most wise Solomon?" + +"A very great one!" des Ageaux replied with a sigh. + +"What shall you do when, to-morrow morning, they claim his trial?" + +"What I can," the Lieutenant answered, frowning and sitting more +erect. "See that the Countess returns early to this side; where the +Bat must make the best dispositions he can for your safety. Meanwhile, +I shall tell them and make them see reason if I can!" + +"Lord!" the Duke said with genuine gusto, "I wish I were in your +place!" + +"I wish you were," des Ageaux replied. "And still more that I had the +rogue by the leg again." + +"Do you?" + +"Do I?" the Lieutenant repeated in astonishment. "I do indeed. The +odds are they will maintain that we released him on purpose, and +dearly we may pay for it!" + +For a moment the Duke, flat on his back, looked thoughtful. Then, +"Umph!" he said, "you think so? But you were always a croaker, des +Ageaux, and you are making the worst of it! Still--you would like to +lay your hand on him, would you?" + +"I would indeed!" + +The Duke rose on his elbow. "Would you mind giving me--I am a little +cold--that cloak?" he said. "No," as des Ageaux moved to do it, "not +that one under your hand--the small one! Thank you. I----" + +He could not finish. He was shaking with laughter--which he vainly +tried to repress. Des Ageaux stared. And then, "What have I done to +amuse you so much, my lord?" he asked coldly, as he rose. + +"Much and little," the Duke answered, still shaking. + +"Much or little," des Ageaux retorted, "you will do yourself no good +by laughing so violently. If your wound, my lord, sets to bleeding +again----" + +"Pray for the soul of Henry, Duke of Joyeuse, Count of Bouchage!" the +Duke replied lightly. Yet on the instant, and by a transition so +abrupt as to sound incredible to men of these days, he composed his +face, groped for his rosary, and began to say his offices. The +suddenness of the change, the fervour of his manner, the earnestness +of his voice astonished the Lieutenant, intimately as he knew this +strange man. Awhile he waited, then he rose and made for the door. + +But Joyeuse--not the Duke of three minutes before, but Frere Ange of +the Capuchin convent--stopped him with a movement of his eyes. "And +why not," said he, "to-day as well as to-morrow? No man need be afraid +to die who prepares himself. The soldier above all, Lieutenant, for +the true secret of courage is to repent. Ay, to repent," he continued +in a voice, sweet and thrilling, and with a look in his eyes strangely +gentle and compelling. "Friend, are you prepared? Have you confessed +lately? If not, kneel down! Kneel, man, and let us say a dozen aves, +and a couple of Paternosters! It will be no time wasted," he continued +anxiously. "No man has sinned more than I have. No man, no man! Yet I +face death like one in a thousand! And why? Why, man? Because it is +not I, but----" + +But there are things too high for the level of such narrations as +this, and too grave for such treatment as is here essayed. The +character of this man was so abnormal, he played with so much +enthusiasm his alternate _roles_, that without this passing glimpse of +his rarer side--that side which in the intervals of wild revelry led +him to dying beds and sick men's couches--but one-half of him could be +understood. Not that he was quite alone in the possession of this +trait. It was a characteristic of the age to combine the most flagrant +sins with the strictest observances; and a few like M. de Joyeuse +added to both a real, if intermittent and hysterical, repentance. + +On this occasion it was not long before he showed his other face. The +Abbess, after waiting without and fretting much--for she had returned +to the purpose momentarily abandoned, and the length of the interview +alarmed her--won entrance at last. She exchanged a cold greeting with +the departing Lieutenant, then took his place, book in hand, on the +green bench. For a while there was silence. She had so far played her +part with success. The Duke knew not whether to call her saint or +woman; and that he might remain in that doubt she now left it to him +to speak. At the same time she left him at liberty to look: for she +knew that bending thus at her devotions she must appear more striking +to his jaded senses. And he, for a time, was mute also, and +thoughtful; so much he gave to the scene just ended. + +It is possible that the silence was prolonged by the chance of +considering her at leisure which she was careful to afford him. He was +still weak, the better side of him was still uppermost; and handsome +as she was, he saw her through a medium of his own, in a halo of +meekness and goodness and purity. Thus viewed she fell in with his +higher mood, she was a part of it, she prolonged it. A time would +come, would most certainly come, when one of the wildest libertines of +his day would see her otherwise, and in the woman forget the saint. +But it had not yet come. And the Abbess, with her pure, cold profile, +bent over her book, and, with her thoughts apparently in heaven, knew +also that her time had not yet come. + +Though her face betrayed nothing, she was in an angry mood. She had +gained little by the altercation with des Ageaux; and though the +simplicity which he had betrayed in his dealings with the peasants +excited her boundless contempt--he, to pit himself against M. de +Vlaye!--the peril which it brought upon all heightened that contempt +to anger. If the peril had been his only, or included the Countess +only, if it had threatened those only whom she could so well spare, +and towards whose undoing her brain was busily working, she could have +borne it bravely and gaily. + +But the case was far other; and something she regretted that she had +not bowed to her first impulse in the chapel and called to M. de +Vlaye, and gone to him--ay, gone to him empty-handed as she was, +without the triumph of which she had dreamed. For the jeopardy in +which she and all her family now stood put her in a dilemma. If the +Lieutenant kept faith with the peasants and all went well, it would go +ill with her lover. If, on the contrary, M. des Ageaux failed to +restrain the peasants, it might go ill with herself. + +It came always to this: she must win over the Duke. Of the allies +against Vlaye, he, with his hundred and fifty horse, due to arrive on +the Wednesday, with the larger support which he could summon if it +were necessary, and with his favour at Court, was by far the most +formidable. Detach him, and the Lieutenant with his handful of riders, +backed though he might be by the Countess's men, and the peasant rout +would be very likely to fail. It came back then always to this: she +must win the Duke. As she pondered, with her eyes on her book, as she +considered again and anew this resolution, the noises of the camp, the +Bat's sharp word of command--for he had fallen imperturbably to +drilling as if that were the one thing necessary--the Vicomte's +querulous voice, and the more distant babel of the peasants' quarter, +all added weight to her thoughts. And then on a sudden an alien sound +broke the current. The man lying beside her laughed. + +She glanced at him, startled for the moment out of her _role_. The +Duke was shaking with merriment. Confused, not understanding, she +rose. "My lord," she said, half offended, "what is it? What moves +you?" + +"A rare joke," he answered. "I was loth to interrupt your thoughts, +fair sister, but 'twas too much for me." He fell to laughing again. + +"You will injure yourself, my lord," she said, chiding him gently, "if +you laugh so violently." + +"Oh, but----" The litter shook under him. + +"At least," she said, with a look more tender and less saintly than +she had yet permitted herself, "you will tell me what it is! What----" + +"Raise that--the cloak!" he said. He pointed with his hand. "Remove +it, I mean, and you will see what--what you will see!" + +She obeyed and immediately recoiled with a low cry, the cloak in her +hand. "_Mon Dieu!_" she whispered, with the colour gone from her +cheeks. "Who--who is he? Who is he?" She shuddered. + +The man her act had revealed rose from his hiding-place, his face +whiter than hers, his haggard, shifty eyes betraying his terror. + +"My lord!" he cried, "you will not betray me? My lord, you passed your +word!" + +"Pah, coward, be silent!" the Duke answered. He turned to the Abbess, +his eyes dancing. "Do you know him?" he asked. + +"He is M. de Vlaye's man," she said. "The prisoner!" She was pale and +she frowned, her hands pressed to her breast. + +"Whom they are so anxious to hang!" the Duke replied, chuckling. "And +whom des Ageaux is so anxious to have under his hand! Ha! ha! Those +were his words! Under his hand! When he touched the cloak I thought I +should have died. And you, rascal, what did you think? You thought you +were going to die, I'll be sworn!" + +"My lord--my lord!" the man faltered the words, holding out imploring +hands. + +"Ay, I'll wager you did!" Joyeuse replied. "Wished you had let me +confess you then, I'll be sworn! He'd not have it, good sister, when I +offered it, because it was too like the end--the rope and the tree!" + +"My lord! My lord!" Fear had driven all but those two words from the +man's mouth. + +And certainly if man had ever ground for fear, he had. In that hut of +wattle, open to the sky, open in a dozen places to the curious eye, he +had heard the voices, the cries, the threats of his pursuers. The +first that entered must see him, even if this mad lord who played with +his life as lightly as he had in the beginning shielded it did not +summon them to take him. + +Verily, as he stood, the cloak plucked from him, with every opening in +the hut's walls an eye, he tasted the bitterness of death. And in the +amused face of his protector, in the girl's cold frowning gaze, what +of sympathy, of feeling, of pity? Not a jot. Not a sign. To the one a +jest, to the other a peril, he was to neither akin. + +As it seemed. But a few seconds saw a change. The Abbess, in the first +flush of amazement, had come near to forgetting her part. Under other +circumstances the trembling wretch before her might have claimed and +gained her sympathy, for he was one of Vlaye's men. At any rate, his +punishment by des Ageaux would have added one more to the list of the +Lieutenant's offences. But as it was she saw in him only a root, so +long as he lay hidden, of utmost peril to all her party; a thing to be +cast to the wolves, if she and those who rode in the chariot with her +were to escape. Her first feeling, therefore--and her face must have +betrayed it had the Duke looked at her at the first--had been one of +fierce repulsion. Her natural impulse had been the impulse to call for +help and give the man up! + +But in time, with a kind of shock of the mind that turned her hot, she +remembered. The Duke was not one to see his will or his whim thwarted +lightly. And she, the saint, whose book of offices still lay where it +had fallen at her feet, she to lend herself to harshness! She to show +herself void of pity! Hurriedly she forced words to her lips, and did +what she could to match her face to their meaning. + +"My lord, blessed are the merciful," she murmured with a slight but +irrepressible shudder. "You who"--her words stuck a little--"have been +spared so lately should be mercy itself." + +"My sister," the Duke said slowly, "you are more than mercy!" And +he looked at her, his lips still smiling, but his eyes grave. He +knew--was ever Frenchman who did not know--the value of his own +courage. He knew that to act as a mere whim led him to act was not in +many, where life was in question; and to see a woman rise thus to his +level, ay, and rise in a moment and unasked, touched him with a new +and ardent admiration. His eyes, as he looked, grew tender. + +"You, too, will protect him?" he said. + +"Who am I that I should do otherwise?" she answered. She spoke the +words so well she seemed to him an angel. And to the man---- + +The man fell at her feet, seized the hem of her robe, kissed it, clung +to it, sobbed broken words of thanks over it, gave way to transports +of gratitude. To him, too, she was an angel. And while she reflected, +"I can still give him up if I think better of it," the Duke watched +her with moist eyes, finding that holy in her case which in his own +had been but a jest, the freak of a man in love with danger, and proud +of seeking it by every road. + +Presently "Now, man, to your cloak!" he said. "And you, sister," he +continued, willing to hear the words again, "you are sure that you are +not afraid?" + +"I am no more afraid," she replied, with downcast eyes and hands +crossed upon her breast, "than I was when I stayed alone with you by +the river, my lord. There was no other who could stay." + +"Say instead, who dared to stay." + +"There is no other now who can shelter him!" + +"_Mon Dieu!_" he whispered. + +He followed her with his eyes after that, all his impressions +confirmed; and as it was rare in those days to find the good also the +beautiful, the imprint made on him was deep. She thrilled him as no +woman had thrilled him since the days of his boyhood and his first +gallantries. His feeling for her elevated him, purified him. As he +watched her moving to and fro in his service, a great content stole +over him. Once, when she bent to his couch to do him some office, he +contrived to touch her hand with his. So might an anchorite have +touched the wood of the true Cross--so reverent, so humble, so full of +adoration and worship was the touch. + +But it was the first step--that touch--and she knew it. She went back +to her bench, and veiling her eyes with her long lashes that he might +not read the triumph which shone in them, she fell again to her +devotions--but with content in her breast. A little more, a little +while, and she would have him at her beck, she would have him on his +knees; and then it should not be long before his alliance with des +Ageaux was broken, and his lances sent home. Not long! But meanwhile +time pressed. There was the trouble; time pressed, yet she dared not +be hasty. He was no simple boy, and one false move might open his +eyes. He might see that she was no angel, but of the same clay as +those of whom he had made toys all his life! + +As she pondered, the near prospect of success set the possibility of +failure, through some accident, through some mischance, in a more +terrible aspect. She hated the trembling fugitive cowering in his +hiding-place behind the Duke's bed; she wished to heaven he were in +des Ageaux' hands again. The danger of a mutiny on his account, a +danger that despite her courage chilled her, would then be at an end. +True, such a mutiny menaced the Lieutenant in the first place and the +Countess in the second; and she could spare them. But she could not be +sure that it would go no farther. She could not be sure that its +burning breath would not lap all in the camp. Had she been sure--that +had been another matter. And behold, as she thought of it, from some +cell of the brain leapt full-grown a plan; a plan wicked enough, cruel +enough, terrible enough, to shock even her, but a clever plan if it +could be executed! + +She had little doubt that the Lieutenant would overcome the difficulty +of the morning and succeed in persuading the peasants that he was +guiltless of the escape of the prisoner. Suppose he succeeded, what +would happen if it leaked out later that the prisoner had been hidden +all the time in the Lieutenant's huts? Particularly if it leaked out +at a time when the Lieutenant and the Countess lay in the peasants' +power in the peasants' camp? And for choice after the arrival of the +first batch of spears had secured the rest of the party from danger? +What would happen to des Ageaux and the Countess in that event? + +It was a black thought. The beautiful face bent over the book of +offices grew perceptibly harder. But what better fate did they deserve +who took on themselves to mar and meddle? They who incited her very +brothers, clownish hobbledehoys, and her mawkish sister to rise up +against her and against _him?_ If fault there was, the fault lay with +those who threw down the glove. The Lieutenant was come for naught +else but her lover's destruction: and if he fell into the pit that he +digged for another he could blame himself only. As for the girl, the +white-faced puling child whose help M. de Vlaye's enemies were driving +him to seek, if she, with her castles and her wealth, her lands and +horse and foot, could not protect herself, the issue was her affair! +Of a surety it was not her rival's! + +Odette de Villeneuve's breath came a little quickly, a fine dew stood +on her white forehead. Meantime the Duke watched her and wondered in +an enthusiasm of piety what prayer it was that so stirred that angelic +breast, what aspirations for the good of her sinning and suffering +sisters swelled that saintly bosom! A vision of an ascetic life spent +by her side, of Fathers read page by page in her company, of the good +and the noble pursued with her under cloistered yews, of an Order such +as the modern Church had never seen--such a vision wrapt him for a few +blissful minutes from the cold, lower world of sense. + + + + + CHAPTER XV. + + FEARS. + + +The Abbess was not present that evening when the hostages transferred +themselves to the peasants' side of the camp. Had she witnessed the +scene she had found, it is possible, matter for reflection. Hard as he +had struggled against the surrender, the Lieutenant struggled almost +as hard, now it was inevitable, to put a good face on it. But his easy +word and laugh fell flat in face of a crowd so watchful and so +ominously silent that it was useless to pretend that the step was no +more than a change from a hut in this part to a hut in that. He who +knew that he must, in the morning, face the men and deny them their +prisoner--knew this too well. But, in truth, the downcast faces of his +troopers and the furtive glances of the Vicomte's party were evidence +that the matter meant much, and that these, also, recognised it; nor +did the peasants, who fell in beside the two when they started, and +accompanied them in an ever growing mob, seem unaware of the fact. The +movement was their triumph; a sign of victory to the dullest as he ran +and stared, and ran again. A section indeed there were who stood aloof +and eyed the thing askance: but two of the Vicomte's party, who +recognised among these the men whom the Lieutenant had denounced in +the morning--the tall, light-eyed fanatic and the dwarf--held it the +worst sign of all; and had it lain in their power they would even at +that late hour have called back their friends. + +Those two were Roger and his younger sister. With what feelings they +saw des Ageaux and the Countess ride away to share a solitude full +alike of danger and of alarm may be more easily imagined than +described. But this is certain; whatever pangs of jealousy gnawed at +Bonne's heart or reddened her brother's cheek, neither forgot the +bargain they had made on the hill-side, or wished their rival aught +but a safe deliverance. + +As it was, could the one or the other, by the lifting of a finger, +have injured the person who stood in the way, they had not lifted it +or desired to lift it. But--to be in her place! To be in his place! +To share that solitude and that peril! To know that round them lay +half a thousand savages, ready at the first sign of treachery to take +their lives, and yet to know that to the other it was bliss to be +there--this, to the two who remained in the Vicomte's huts and gave +their fancy rein, seemed happiness. Yet were they sorely anxious; +anxious in view of the abiding risk of such a situation, more anxious +in view of the crisis that must come when the peasants learned that +the prisoner had escaped. Nevertheless, they did not talk of this, +even to one another. + +If Roger kept vigil that night his sister did not know it. And if +Bonne, whose secret was her own, started and trembled at every +sound--and such a camp as that bred many a sound and some alarming +ones--she told no one. But when the first grey light fell thin on the +basin in the hills, disclosing here the shapeless mass of a hut, and +there only the dark background of the encircling ridge, her pale face, +as she peered from her lodging, confronted Roger's as he paced the +turf outside. The same thought, the same fear was in the mind of +brother and sister, and had been since earliest cock-crow; and for +Roger's part he was not slow to confess it. Presently they found that +there was another whom care kept waking. A moment and the Bat's lank +form loomed through the mist. He found the two standing side by side; +and the old soldier's heart warmed to them. He nodded his +comprehension. + +"The trouble will not be yet awhile," he said. "He will send the lady +back before he tells them. I doubt"--he shrugged his shoulders with a +glance at Bonne--"if she has had a bed of roses this night." + +Bonne sighed involuntarily. "At what hour do you think she will be +back?" Roger asked. + +"My orders are to send six riders for her half an hour after sunrise." + +"A little earlier were no worse," Roger returned, his face flushing +slightly as he made the suggestion. + +"Nor better," the Bat replied drily. "Orders are given to be obeyed, +young sir." + +"And the rest of your men?" Bonne asked timidly. "They will go to +support M. des Ageaux as soon as she arrives, I suppose?" + +The Bat read amiss the motive that underlay her words. "Have no fear, +mademoiselle," he said, "we shall see to your safety. You know the +Lieutenant little if you think he will look to his own before he has +ensured that of others. My lady the Countess once back with us, not a +man is to stir from here. And, with warning, and the bank behind us, +it will be hard if with a score of pikes we cannot push back the +attack of such a crew as this!" + +"But you do not mean," Bonne cried, her eyes alight, "that you are +going to leave M. des Ageaux alone--to face those savages?" + +"Those are my orders," the Bat replied gently; for the girl's face, +scarlet with protest, negatived the idea of fear. "And orders where +the Lieutenant commands, mademoiselle, are made to be obeyed; and are +obeyed. Moreover," he continued seriously, "in this case they are +common sense, since with a score of pikes something may be done, but +with half a score here, and half a score there"--shrugging his +shoulders--"nothing! Which no one knows better than my lord!" + +"But----" + +"The Lieutenant allows no 'buts,'" the old soldier answered, smiling +at her eagerness. "Were you with him, mademoiselle--were you under his +orders, I mean--it would not be long before you learned that!" + +Poor Bonne was silenced. With a quivering lip she averted her face: +and for a few moments no one spoke. Then, "I wish M. de Joyeuse were +on his feet," the Bat said thoughtfully. "He is worth a dozen men in +such a pinch as this!" + +"The sun is up!" This from Roger. + +"Ah!" + +"How will you know when half an hour is past?" + +The Bat raised his eyebrows. "I can guess it within two or three +minutes," he said. "There is no hurry for a minute or two!" + +"No hurry?" Roger retorted. "But the Countess--won't she be in peril?" + +The Bat looked curiously at him. "For the matter of that," he +said, "we are all in peril. And may-be we shall be in greater before +the day is out. We must take the rough with the smooth, young sir. +However--perhaps you would like to make one to fetch her?" + +Roger blushed. "I will go," he said. + +"Very good," the old soldier answered. "I don't know that it is +against orders. For you, mademoiselle, I fear that I cannot satisfy +you so easily. Were I to send you," he continued with a sly smile, "to +escort my lord back----" + +"Could you not go yourself?" Bonne interrupted, her face reflecting +the brightest colours of Roger's blush. + +"I, indeed? No, mademoiselle. Orders! Orders!" + +They did not reply. By this time the dense grey mist, forerunner of +heat, had risen and discovered the camp, which here and there stirred +and awoke. The open ground about the rivulet, which formed a neutral +space between the peasants' hovels and the quarters assigned to the +Vicomte, still showed untenanted, though marred and poached by the +trampling of a thousand feet. But about the fringe of the huts that, +low and mean as the shops of some Oriental bazaar, clustered along the +foot of the bank, figures yawned and stretched, gazed up at the +morning, or passed bending under infants, to fetch water. Everywhere a +rising hum told of renewed life. And behind the Vicomte's quarters the +brisk jingle of bits and stirrups announced that the troopers were +saddling. + +In those days of filthy streets, and founderous sloughy roads, the +great went ever on horseback, if it were but to a house two doors +distant. To ride was a sign of rank, no matter how short the journey. +Across the street, across the camp it was the same; and Bonne, as she +watched Roger and the five troopers proceeding with three led horses +across the open, saw nothing strange in the arrangement. + +But when some minutes had passed, and the little troop did not emerge +again from the ruck of hovels which had swallowed them, Bonne began to +quake. Before her fears had time to take shape, however, the riders +appeared; and the anxiety she still felt--for she knew that des Ageaux +was not with them--gave way for a moment to a natural if jealous +curiosity. How would she look, how would she carry herself, who had +but this moment parted from him, who had shared through the night his +solitude and his risk, his thoughts, perhaps, and his ambitions? Would +happiness or anxiety or triumph be uppermost in her face? + +She looked; she saw. Her gaze left no shade of colour, no tremor of +eye or lip unnoticed. And certainly for happiness or triumph she +failed to find a trace of either in the Countess's face. The young +girl, pale and depressed, drooped in her saddle, drooped still more +when she stood on her feet. No blush, no smile betrayed remembered +words or looks, caresses or promises; and if it was anxiety that +clouded her, she showed it strangely. For when she had alighted from +her horse she did not wait. Although, as her feet touched the ground, +a murmur rose from the distant huts, she did not heed it; but looking +neither to right nor left, she hastened to hide herself in her +quarters. + +She seemed to be in trouble, and Bonne, melted, would have gone to +her. But a sound stayed the elder girl at the door. The murmur in the +peasants' quarter had risen to a louder note; and borne on this--as +treble on base--came to the ear the shrill screech that tells of +fanaticism. Such a sound has terrors for the boldest; for, irrational +itself, it deprives others of reason. It gathers up all that is weak, +all that is nighty, all that is cruel, even all that is cowardly, and +hurls the whole, imbued with its own qualities, against whatever +excites its rage. Bonne, who had never heard that note before, but +knew by intuition its danger, stood transfixed, staring with terrified +eyes at the distant huts. She was picturing what one instant of time, +one savage blow, one shot at hazard, might work under that bright +morning sky! She saw des Ageaux alone, hemmed in, surrounded by the +ignorant crowd which the enthusiast was stirring to madness! She saw +their lowering brows, their cruel countenances, their small, fierce +eyes under matted locks; and she looked trembling to the Bat, who, +stationed a few paces from her, was also listening to the shrill +voice. + +Had he sworn she had borne it better. But his compressed lips told of +a more tense emotion; of fidelity strained to the utmost. Even this +iron man shook, then! Even he to whom his master's orders were +heaven's first law felt anxiety! She could bear no more in silence. + +"Go!" she murmured. "Oh, go! Surely twenty men might ride through +them!" + +He did not look at her. "Orders!" he muttered hoarsely. "Orders!" But +the perspiration stood on his brow. + +She saw that, and that his sinewy hands gripped nail to palm; and as +the distant roar gathered volume, and the note of peril in it grew +more acute, "Oh, go!" she cried, holding out her hands to him. "Go, +Roger! Some one!" wildly. "Will you let them tear him limb from limb!" + +Still "Orders! Orders!" the Bat muttered. And though his eyes +flickered an instant in the direction of the waiting troopers, he set +his teeth. And then in a flash, in a second, the roar died down and +was followed by silence. + +Silence; no one moved, no one spoke. As if fascinated every eye +remained glued to the low, irregular line of huts that hid from sight +the inner part of the peasants' camp. What had happened, what was +passing there? On the earthen ramparts high overhead were men, Charles +among them, who could see, and must know; but so taken up were the +group below, from Bonne to the troopers, in looking for what was to +come, that no one diverted eye or thought to these men who knew. And +though either the abrupt cessation of sound, or the subtle excitement +in the air, drew the Abbess at this moment from the Duke's hut, no one +noted her appearance, or the Duke's pale eager face peering over her +shoulder. What had happened? What had happened behind the line of +hovels, under the morning sunshine that filled the camp and rendered +only more grim the fear, the suspense, the tragedy that darkened all? + +Something more than a minute they spent in that absorbed gazing. Then +a deep blush dyed Bonne's cheeks. The Bat, who had not sworn, swore. +The Duke laughed softly. The troopers, if their officer had not raised +his hand to check them, would have cheered. Des Ageaux had shown +himself in one of the openings that pierced the peasants' town. He was +on horseback, giving directions, with gestures on this side and that. +A score of naked urchins ran before him, gazing up at him; and a +couple of men at his bridle were taking orders from him. + +He was safe, he had conquered. And Bonne, uncertain what she had said +in her anxiety, but certain that she had said too much, cast a shamed +look at the Bat. Fortunately his eye was on the troopers; and it was +not his look but her sister's smile which drove the girl from the +scene. She remembered the Countess: she bethought her that, in the +solitude of her hut, the child might be suffering. Bonne hastened to +her, with the less scruple as the two shared a hut. + +The impulse that moved her was wholly generous. Yet when her hasty +entrance surprised the young girl in the act of rising from her knees, +there entered into the embarrassment which checked her one gleam of +triumph. While the other had prayed for her lover, she had acted. She +had acted! + +The next moment she quelled the mean thought. The girl before her +looked so wan, so miserable, so forlorn, that it was impossible to +think of her hardly, or judge her strictly. "I am afraid that I scared +you," Bonne said, and stooped and kissed her. "But all is well, I +bring you good news. He is safe! You can see him if you look from the +door of the hut." + +She thought that the child would spring to the door and feast her eyes +on the happy assurance of his safety. But the young Countess did not +move. She stared at Bonne as if she had a difficulty in taking in the +meaning of her words. "Safe?" she stammered. "Who is safe?" + +"Who?" Bonne ejaculated. + +The young girl passed her hand over her brow. "I am very sorry," she +replied humbly. "I did not understand. You said that some one was +safe?" + +"M. des Ageaux, of course!" + +"Of course! I am very glad." + +"Glad?" Bonne repeated, with indignation she could not control. "Glad? +Only that?" + +The girl, her lip trembling, her face working, cast a frightened look +at her, and then with a piteous gesture, as if she could no longer +control herself, she turned from her and burst into tears. + +Bonne stared. What did this mean? Relief? Joy? The relaxation of +nerves too tightly strained? No. She should have thought of it before. +It was not likely, it was not possible that this child had already +conceived for des Ageaux such an affection as casts out fear. It was +not she, but he, who had to gain by the marriage; and prepared as the +Countess might be to look favourably on his suit, ready as she might +be to give her heart, she had not yet given it. + +"You are overwrought!" Bonne said, to soothe her. "You have been +frightened." + +"Frightened!" the girl replied through her sobs. "I shall die--if I +have to go through it again! And I have to go through it, I must go +through it. And I shall die! Oh, the night I have spent listening and +waiting and"--she cowered away, with a stifled scream. "What was +that?" She stared at the door, her eyes wild with terror. "What was +that?" she repeated, seizing Bonne, and clinging to her. + +"Nothing! Nothing!" Bonne answered gently, seeing that the girl was +thoroughly shaken and unnerved. "It was only a horse neighing." + +The Countess controlled her sobs, but her scared eyes and white face +revealed the impression which the suspense of the night had made on +one not bold by nature, and only supported by the pride of rank. "A +horse neighing?" she repeated. "Was it only that? I thought--oh! +if you knew what it was to hear them creeping and crawling, and +rustling and whispering every hour of the night! To fancy them +coming, and to sit up gasping! And then to lie down again and wait +and wait, expecting to feel their hands on your throat! Ah, I tell +you"--she hid her face on Bonne's shoulder and clasped her to her +passionately--"every minute was an hour, and every hour a day!" + +Bonne held her to her full of pity. And presently, "But he was near +you?" she ventured. "Did not his--his neighbourhood----" + +"The Lieutenant's?" + +"Yes. Did not that"--Bonne spoke with averted eyes: she would know for +certain now if the child loved him!--"did not that make you feel +safer?" + +"One man!" the Countess's voice rang querulous. "What could one man +do? What could he have done if they had come? Besides they would have +killed him first. I did not think of him. I thought of myself. Of my +throat!" She clasped it with a sudden movement of her two hands--it +was white and very slender. "I thought of that, and the knife, and how +it would feel--all night! All night, do you understand? And I could +have screamed! I could have screamed every minute. I wonder I did +not." + +Bonne saw that the child had gone to the ordeal, and passed through +it, in the face of a terror that would have turned brave men. And she +felt no contempt for her. She saw indeed that the child did not love; +for love, as Bonne's maiden fancy painted it, was an all-powerful +impervious armour. She was sure that in the other's place she would +have known fear, but it would have been fear on _his_ account, not on +her own. She might have shuddered as she thought of the steel, but it +would have been of the steel at his breast. Whereas the Countess--no, +the Countess did not love. + +"And I must go again! I must go again!" the child wailed, in the same +abandonment of terror. "Oh, how shall I do it? How shall I do it?" + +The cry went to Bonne's heart. "You shall not do it," she said. "If +you feel about it like this, you shall not do it. It is not right nor +fit." + +"But I cannot refuse!" the Countess shook violently as she said it. "I +dare not refuse. Afraid and a Rochechouart! A Rochechouart and a +coward! No, I must go. I must die of fear there; or of shame here." + +"Perhaps it may not be necessary," Bonne murmured. + +"No? Why, even if my men come I must go! If they come to-day I must +still go to-night. And lie trembling, and starting, and dying a death +at every sound!" + +"But perhaps----" + +"Don't--don't!" the Countess cried, moving feverishly in her arms. +"And, ah, God, I was cold a moment ago, and now I am hot! Oh, I am so +hot! So hot! Let me go." Her parched lips and bright eyes told of the +fever of fear that ran through her veins. + +But Bonne still held her. + +"It may not be necessary," she murmured. "Tell me, did you see M. des +Ageaux--after you went from here last night?" + +"See him?" querulously. "No! He has his hut and I mine. I see no one! +No one!" + +"And he does not come and talk to you?" + +"Talk? No. Talk? You do not know what it is like. I am alone, I tell +you, alone!" + +"Then if I were to take your place he would not find it out?" + +The Countess started violently--and then was still. "Take my place?" +she echoed in a different tone. "In their camp, do you mean?" + +"Yes." + +"But you would not," the other retorted. "You would not." Then before +Bonne could answer, "What do you mean? Do you mean anything?" she +cried. "Do you mean you would go?" + +"Yes." + +"In my place?" + +"If you will let me," Bonne replied. She flushed a little, conscience +telling her that it was not entirely, not quite entirely for the +other's sake that she was willing to do this. "If you will let me I +will go," she continued. "I am bigger than you, but I can stoop, and +in a riding-cloak and hood I think I can pass for you. And it will be +dusk too. I am sure I can pass for you." + +The Countess shivered. The boon was so great, the gift so tremendous, +if she could accept it! But she was Rochechouart. What would men say +if they discovered that she had not gone, that she had let another +take her place and run her risk? She pondered with parted lips. If it +might be! + +"You are not fit to go," Bonne continued. "You will faint or fall. You +are ill now." + +"But they will find out!" the Countess wailed, hiding her face on +Bonne's shoulder. "They will find out!" + +"They will not find out," Bonne replied firmly. "And I--why should I +not go? You have done one night. I will do one." + +"Oh, if you would! But will you--not be afraid?" The Countess's eyes +were full of longing. If only she could accept with honour! + +"I shall not be afraid," Bonne answered confidently. "And no one need +know, no one shall know. M. des Ageaux does not talk to you?" + +"No. But if it be found out, everybody--ah, I shall die of shame! Your +brother, Roger, too--and everybody!" + +"No one shall know," Bonne answered stoutly. "No one. Besides, you +have been once. It is not as if you had not been!" + +And the child, with the memory of the night pressing upon her, jumped +at that. "Then I shall go to-morrow night," she said. "I shall go +to-morrow night." + +Bonne was clear that she was not fit to go again. But she let that be +for the moment. "That shall be as you wish," she answered comfortably. +"We will talk about that to-morrow. For to-night it is settled. And +now you must try if you cannot go to sleep. If you do not sleep you +will be ill." + + + + + CHAPTER XVI. + + TO DO OR NOT TO DO? + + +To do or not to do? How many a one has turned the question in his +mind; this one in the solitude of his locked room, seated with +frowning face and eyes fixed on nothingness; that one amid the babble +of voices and laughter, masking anxious thought under set smiles. How +many a one has viewed the act she meditated this way and that, askance +and across, in the hope of making the worse appear the better, and so +of doing her pleasure with a light heart. Others again, trampling the +scruple under foot, have none the less hesitated, counting the cost +and striving to view dispassionately--with eyes that, the thing done, +will never see it in that light again--how it will be with them +afterwards, how much better outwardly, how much worse inwardly, and so +to strike a balance for or against--to do or not to do. And some with +burning eyes, and minds unswervingly bent on the thing they desire +have yet felt hands pluck at them, and something--be it God or the +last instinct of good--whispering them to pause--to pause, and not to +do! + +The Abbess pondered, while the Duke, reclining in the opening of his +hut, from which the screen had been drawn back that he might enjoy the +air, had no more accurate notion of her thoughts than had the +Lieutenant's dog sleeping a few paces away. The missal had fallen from +her hands and lay in her lap. Her eyes fixed on the green slope before +her betrayed naught that was not dove-like; while the profound +stillness of her form which permitted the Duke to gaze at will +breathed only the peace of the cloister and the altar, the peace that +no change of outward things can long disturb. Or so the Duke fancied; +and eyeing her with secret rapture, felt himself uplifted in her +presence. He felt that here was a being congenial with his better +self, and a beauty as far above the beauty to which he had been a +slave all his life as his higher moods rose above his worst excesses. + +He had gained strength in the three days which had elapsed since his +arrival in the camp. He could now sit up for a short time and even +stand, though giddily and with precaution. Nor were these the only +changes which the short interval had produced. The Countess's spears, +to the number of thirty, were here, and their presence augmented the +safety of the Vicomte's party. But indirectly, in so far as it fed the +peasants' suspicions, it had a contrary effect. The Crocans submitted +indeed to be drilled, sometimes by the Bat, sometimes by his master; +and reasonable orders were not openly disobeyed. But the fear of +treachery which a life-time of ill-usage had instilled was deepened by +the presence of the Countess's men. The slightest movements on des +Ageaux' part were scanned with jealousy. If he conferred too long with +the Villeneuves or the Countess men exchanged black looks, or muttered +in their beards. If he strayed a hundred paces down the valley a score +were at his heels. Nor were there wanting those who, moving secretly +between the camp and the savage horde upon the hill--the Old Crocans, +as they were called--kept these apprised of their doubts and fears. + +To eyes that could see, the position was critical, even dangerous. Nor +was it rendered more easy by a feat of M. de Vlaye's men, who, +reconnoitring up to the gates one evening, cut off a dozen peasants. +The morning light discovered the bodies of six of these hanged on a +tree below the Old Crocans' station, and well within view from the +ridge about the camp. That the disaster might not have occurred had +des Ageaux been in his quarters, instead of being a virtual prisoner, +went for nothing. He bore the blame, some even thought him privy to +the matter. From that hour the gloom grew deeper. Everywhere, and at +all times, the more fanatical or the more suspicious drew together in +corners, and while simpler clowns cursed low or muttered of treachery, +darker spirits whispered devilish plans. Those who had their eyes open +noted the more frequent presence of the Old Crocans, who wandered by +twos and threes through the camp; and though these, when des Ageaux' +eye fell on them, fawned and cringed, or hastened to withdraw +themselves, they spat when his back was turned, and with stealthy +gestures they gave him to hideous deaths. + +In a word, fear like a dark presence lay upon the camp; and to add to +the prevailing irritation, the heat was great. The giant earth-wall +which permitted the Lieutenant to mature his plans and await his +reinforcements shut out the evening breezes. Noon grilled his men as +in a frying-pan; all night the air was hot and heavy. The peasants +sighed for the cool streams of Brantome and the voices of the frogs. +The troopers, accustomed to lord it and impatient of discomfort, were +quick with word and hand, and prone to strike, when a blow was as +dangerous as a light behind a powder screen. Without was Vlaye, within +was fear; while, like ravens waiting for the carnage, the horde of Old +Crocans on the hill looked down from their filthy eyrie. + +No one knew better than the Abbess that the least thing might serve +for a spark. And she pondered. Not for an hour since its birth had the +plan she had imagined been out of her mind; and still--there was so +much good in her, so much truth--she recoiled. The two whom she +doomed, if she acted, were her enemies; and yet she hesitated. Her own +safety, her father's, her sister's, the safety of all, those two +excepted, was secured by the Rochechouart reinforcement. Only her +enemies would perish, and perhaps the poor fool whose presence she +must disclose. And yet she could not make up her mind. To do or not to +do? + +It might suffice to detach Joyeuse. But the time was short, and the +Duke's opinion of her high; and she shrank from risking it by a +premature move. He had placed her on a pinnacle and worshipped her: if +she descended from the pinnacle he might worship no longer. Meantime, +if she waited until his troopers rode in, and on their heels a second +levy from Rochechouart, it might be too late to act, too late to +detach him, too late to save Vlaye. To do or not to do? + +A dozen paces from her, old Solomon was pouring garrulous inventions +into the ear of the Countess's steward; who, dull, faithful man, took +all for granted, and gaped more widely at every lie. Insensibly her +mind began to follow and take in the sense of their words. + +"Six on one tree!" Solomon was saying, in the contemptuous tone of one +to whom Montfaucon was an every-day affair. "'Tis nothing. You never +saw the like at Rochechouart, say you? Perhaps not. Your lady is +merciful." + +"Three I have!" + +"And who were they?" Solomon asked, with a sniff of contempt. + +"Cattle-stealers. At least so it was said. But the wife of one came +down next day and put it on another, and it was complained that they +had suffered wrongfully. But three they were." + +"Three?" Solomon's nose rose in scorn. "If you had seen the elm at +Villeneuve in my lord's father's time! They were as acorns on an oak. +Ay, they were! Fifteen in one forenoon." + +"God ha' mercy on us!" + +"And ten more when he had dined!" + +"God ha' mercy on us!" Fulbert replied, staring in stricken surprise. +"And what had they done?" + +"Done?" Solomon answered, shrugging his shoulders after a careless +fashion. "Just displeased him. And why should he not?" he continued, +bristling up. "What worse could they do? Was he not lord of +Villeneuve?" + +And she was making a scruple of two lives. Of two lives that stood in +her path! Still--life was life. But what was that they were saying +now? Hang Vlaye? Hang--the Captain of Vlaye? + +It was Solomon had the word; and this time the astonishment was on his +side. "What is that you say?" he repeated. "Hang M. de Vlaye?" + +"And why for not?" the steward replied doggedly, his face red with +passion, his dull intelligence sharpened by his lady's wrongs. "And +why for not?" + +Solomon was scandalised by the mere mention of it. Hang like any clod +or clown a man who had been a constant visitor at his master's house! +"Oh, but he--you don't hang such as he!" he retorted. "The Captain of +Vlaye? Tut, tut! You are a fool!" + +"A fool? Not I! They will hang him!" + +"Tut, tut!" + +"Wait until _he_ speaks!" Fulbert replied, nodding mysteriously in the +direction of the Lieutenant, who, at no great distance from the group, +was watching a band of peasants at their drill. "When he speaks 'tis +the King speaks. And when the King speaks, it is hang a man must, +whoever he be!" + +"Tut, tut!" + +"Whoever he be!" Fulbert repeated with stolid obstinacy. And then, "It +is not for nothing," he added with a menacing gesture, "that a man +stops the Countess of Rochechouart on the King's road! No, no!" + +Not for nothing? No, and it is not for nothing, the Abbess cried in +her heart, that you threaten the man I love with the death of a dog! +Dogs yourselves! Dogs! + +It was well that the Duke was not looking at her at that moment, for +her heaving bosom, her glowing eyes, the rush of colour to her face +all betrayed the force of her passion. Hang him? Hang her lover? So +that was what they were saying, thinking, planning behind her back, +was it! That was the camp talk! That! + +She could have borne it better had the Lieutenant proclaimed his aim +aloud. It was the sedateness of his preparations, the slow stealth of +his sap, the unswerving calmness of his approaches at which her soul +revolted. The ceaseless drilling, the arming, the watch by day and +night, all the life about her, every act, every thought had her +lover's ruin for their aim, his death for their end! A loathing, a +horror seized her. She felt a net closing about her, a net that +enmeshed her and fettered her, and threatened to hold her motionless +and powerless, while they worked their will on him before her eyes! + +But she could still break the net. She could still act. Two lives? +What were two lives, lives of his enemies, in comparison of his life? +At the thought a spring of savage passion welled up in her heart, and +clouded her eyes. The die was cast. It remained only to do. To do! + +But softly--softly. As she rose, having as yet no formed plan, a last +doubt stayed her. It was not a doubt of his enemies' intentions, but +of their power. He whose words had opened her eyes to their grim +purpose was a dullard, almost an imbecile. He could be no judge of the +means they possessed, or of their chances of success. The swarm of +unkempt, ill-armed peasants, who disgusted her eyes, the troop of +spears, who even now barely sufficed to secure the safety of her +party, what chance had they against M. de Vlaye and the four or five +hundred men-at-arms who for years had lorded it over the marches of +the province, and made themselves the terror of a country-side? Surely +a small chance if it deserved the name. Surely she was permitting a +shadow to frighten her. + +"Something," the Duke murmured near her ear, "has interrupted the even +current of your thoughts, mademoiselle. What is it, I pray?" + +"I feel the heat," she answered, holding her hand to her brow, that +behind its shelter she might recover her composure. "Do not you?" + +"It is like an oven," he answered, "within these earth-walls." + +"How I hate them!" she cried, unable to repress the spirit of +irritation. + +"Do you? Well, so do I," he replied. "But within them--it is nowhere +cooler than here." + +"I will put that to the proof, my lord," she returned with a smile. +And, gliding from him, in spite of the effort he made to detain her, +she crossed the grass to her father. Sinking on the sward beside his +stool, she began to fan herself. + +The Vicomte was in an ill-humour of some days' standing; nor without +reason. Dragged, will he nill he, from the house in which his whim had +been law, he found himself not only without his comforts, but a cipher +in the camp. Not once, but three or four times he had let his judgment +be known, and he had looked to see it followed. He might have spoken +to the winds. No one, not even his sons, though they listened +respectfully, took heed of it. It followed that he saw himself exposed +to dangers against which he was not allowed to guard himself, and to a +catastrophe which he must await in inaction; while all he possessed +stood risked on a venture that for him had neither interest nor +motive. + +In such a position a man of easier temper and less vanity might be +pardoned if he complained. For the Vicomte, fits of senile rage shook +him two or three times a day. He learned what it was to be thwarted: +and if he hated any one or anything more than the filthy peasants on +whom his breeding taught him to look with loathing, it was the man +with whose success his safety was bound up, the man who had forced him +into this ignominious position. + +Of him he could believe no good. When the Abbess, after fanning +herself in silence, mentioned the arrival of the Countess's troopers, +and asked him if he thought that the Lieutenant was now strong enough +to attack, he derided the notion. + +"M. de Vlaye will blow this rabble to the winds," he said, with a +contemptuous gesture. "We may grill here as long as we please, but the +moment we show ourselves outside, pouf! It will be over! What can a +handful of riders do against five hundred men as good as themselves?" + +"But the peasants?" she suggested, willing to know the worst. "There +are some hundreds of them." + +"Food for steel!" he answered, with the same contemptuous pantomime. + +"Then you think--we were wrong to come here?" + +"I think, girl, that we were mad to come here. But not so mad," he +continued spitefully, "as those who brought us!" + +"Yet Charles thinks that the Governor of Perigord will prevail." + +"Charles had his own neck in the noose," the Vicomte growled, "and was +glad of company. Since Coutras it is the young lead the old, and the +issue you will see. Lieutenant of Perigord? What has the Lieutenant of +Perigord or any other governor to do with canaille such as this?" + +Odette heaved a sigh of relief and her face lightened. "It will be +better so," she said softly. "M. de Vlaye knows, sir, that we had no +desire to hurt him, and he will not reckon it against us." + +The Vicomte fidgeted in his stool. "I wish I could think so," he +answered with a groan. "Curse him! Who is more to blame? If he had +left the Countess alone, this would not have happened. They are no +better one than the other! But what is this? Faugh!" And he spat on +the ground. + +There was excuse for his disgust. Across the open ground a group of +men were making their way in the direction of the Lieutenant's +quarters. They were the same men who had met him at the entrance on +his return with the Abbess and Joyeuse: nor had the lapse of four or +five days lessened the foulness of their aspect, or robbed them of the +slinking yet savage bearing--as of beasts of prey half tamed--which +bade beware of them. They shambled forward until they neared des +Ageaux, who was writing at an improvised table not far from the +Vicomte; then cringing they saluted him. Their eyes squinting this way +and that from under matted locks--as if at a gesture they were ready +to leap back--added to their beast-like appearance. + +The Lieutenant's voice, as he asked the men with asperity what they +needed, came clearly to the ears of the group about the Vicomte. But +the Old Crocans' answer, expressed at length in a patois of the +country, was not audible. + +"Foul carrion!" the Vicomte muttered. "What do they here?" while the +Abbess and Bonne, who had joined her, contemplated them with eyes of +shuddering dislike. + +"What, indeed?" Bonne muttered, her cheek pale. She seemed to be +unable to take her eyes from them. "They frighten me! Oh, I hope they +will not be suffered to remain in the camp!" + +"Is it that they wish?" the Vicomte asked. + +"Yes, my lord," Solomon answered: he had gone forward, listened awhile +and returned. "They say that eleven more of their people were +surprised by Vlaye's men three hours ago, and cut to pieces. This is +the second time it has happened. They think that they are no longer +safe on the hill, and wish to join us." + +"God forbid!" Bonne cried, with a strange insistence. + +The Abbess looked at her. "Why so frightened?" she said +contemptuously. "One might suppose you were in greater danger than +others, girl!" + +Bonne did not answer, but her distended eyes betrayed the impression +which the wretches' appearance made on her. Nor when Charles--who was +seldom off the ridge which was his special charge--remarked that after +all a man was a man, and they had not too many, could she refrain from +a word. "But not those!" she murmured. "Not those!" + +Charles, who in these days saw more of the Bat than of any one else, +shrugged his shoulders. "I shall be surprised if he does not receive +them," he answered. "They are vermin and may give us trouble. But we +must run the risk. If we are to succeed we must run some risks." + +Not that risk, however, it appeared. For he had scarcely uttered the +words when des Ageaux was seen to raise his hand, and point with stern +meaning to the entrance. "No," he said, his voice high and clear. +"Begone to your own and look to yourselves! You chose to go your own +way and a bloody one! Now your blood be on your own heads! Here is no +place for you, nor will I cover you!" + +"My lord!" one cried in protest. "My lord, hear us!" + +"No!" the Lieutenant replied harshly. "You had your warning and did +not heed it! M. de Villeneuve, when he came to you, warned you, and I +warned you. It was your own will to withdraw yourselves. You would +have naught but blood. You would burn and kill! Now, on your own +heads," he concluded with severity, "be your blood!" + +They would have protested anew, but he dismissed them with a gesture +which permitted no denial. And sullenly, with stealthy gestures of +menace, they retreated towards the entrance; and gabbling more loudly +as they approached it, seemed to be imprecating vengeance on those who +cast them out. In the gate they lingered awhile, turning about and +scolding the man on guard. Then they passed out of sight, and were +gone. + +As the last of them disappeared des Ageaux, who had kept a vigilant +eye on their retreat, approached the group about the Vicomte. The old +man, though he approved the action, could not refrain from giving his +temper vent. + +"You are sure that you can do without them," he said, with a sneer. +His shaking hand betrayed his dislike of the man to whom he spoke. + +"I believe I can," the Lieutenant answered. He spoke with unusual +gravity, but the next moment a smile--smiles had been rare with him of +late--curved the corners of his mouth. His eyes travelled from one to +another, and in a low voice, but one that betrayed his relief, "I will +tell you why, if you wish to know, M. le Vicomte." + +"Why?" + +Des Ageaux' smile grew broader, but his tone remained low. "Because I +have news," he returned. "And it is good news. I have had word +within the last hour that I may expect M. de Joyeuse's levies about +nightfall to-morrow, and a day or two later a reinforcement beyond my +hope--fifty men-at-arms whom the Governor of Agen has lent me, and +fifty from my garrison of Perigueux. With those we should have +enough--though not too many." + +They received the news with words of congratulation or with grunts of +disdain, according as each felt about it. And all began to discuss the +tidings, though still in the tone of caution which the Lieutenant's +look enjoined. One only was silent, and with averted face saw the cup +of respite dashed from her lips. A hundred men beyond those looked +for! Such an accession must change hope to certainty, hazard to +surety. A few days would enable the Lieutenant to match rider for +rider with Vlaye, and still boast a reserve of four or five hundred +undisciplined allies. While jubilant voices hummed in her ears, and +those whom she was ready to kill because they hated him rejoiced, the +Abbess rose slowly and, detaching herself from the group, walked away. + +No one followed her even with the eye; for the Duke, fatigued, and a +little hurt that she did not return, had retired into his quarters. +Nor would the most watchful have learned much from her movements, or, +unless jealous beyond the ordinary, have found aught to suspect in +what she did. + +She strolled very slowly along the foot of the slope, as if in pure +idleness or to stretch limbs cramped by over-long sitting. Presently +she came to some tethered horses, and stood and patted them, and +looked them over; nor could any but the horses tell--and they could +not speak--that while her hand was on them her eyes were roving the +camp. Perhaps she found what she sought; perhaps it was chance only +that guided her steps in the direction of the tall young man with pale +eyes, whose violence had raised him to a certain leadership among the +peasants. + +It must have been chance, for when she reached his neighbourhood she +did not address him. She stooped and--what could be more womanly or +more natural?--she spoke to a naked child that rolled on the trampled +turf within arm's length of him. What she said--in French or patois, +or that infant language of which no woman's tongue is ignorant--the +baby could not say, for, like the horses, it could not speak. Yet it +must have found something unusual in her face, for it cowered from +her, as in terror. And what she said could have no interest for the +man who lounged near, though he seemed disturbed by it. + +She toyed with the shrinking child a moment, then turned and walked +slowly back to the Vicomte's quarters. Her manner was careless, but +her face was pale. No wonder. For she had taken a step--and she knew +it--which she could never retrace. She had done that which she could +not undo. Between her and Bonne and Roger and Charles was a gulf +henceforth, though they might not know it. And the Duke? She winced a +little, recognising more plainly than before how far she stood below +the notion he had of her. + +Yet she felt no remorse. On the contrary, the uppermost feeling in her +mind--and it ran riot there--was a stormy exultation. They who had +dragged her at their chariot wheels would learn that in forcing her to +take part against her lover they had made the most fatal of mistakes. +They triumphed now. They counted on sure success now. They thought to +hang him, as they would hang any low-bred thief! Very good! Let them +wait until morning, and talk then of hanging! + +Once or twice, indeed, in the afternoon she was visited by misgivings. +The man she had seen was a mere savage; he might not have understood. +Or he might betray her, though that could hurt her little since no one +would believe him. Or the peasants, though wrought to fury, might +recoil at the last like the cowards they were! + +But these and the like doubts arose not from compunction, but from +mistrust. Compunction was to come later, when evening fell and from +the door of the Duke's quarters she viewed the scene, now familiar, of +the hostages' departure in the dusk--saw the horses drawn up and the +two whom she was dooming in act to mount. It was then that a sudden +horror of what she was about seized her--she was young, a mere +girl--and she rose with a stifled cry from her stool. It was not yet +too late. A cry, a word would save them. Would save them still! +Impulsively she moved a pace towards them, intending--ay, for a +moment, intending to say that word. + +But she stopped. A word would save them, but--she was forgetting--it +would doom her lover! And on that thought, and to reinforce it, +there rose before her mind's eye the pale puling features of the +Countess--her rival! Was she to be put aside for a thing like that? +Was it to such a half-formed child as that she must surrender her +lover? She pressed her hands together, and, returning to her seat, she +turned it about that her eyes might not see them as they went through +the dusk. + + + + + CHAPTER XVII. + + THE HEART OF CAIN. + + +Seven hours had passed. + +The moon had just dropped below the narrow horizon of the camp, but to +eyes which looked up from the blackness of the hollow the form of the +nearest sentinel, erect on the edge of the cup, showed plain against +the paler background of sky. The hour was the deadest of the night; +but, as the stillest night has its noises, the camp was not without +noises. The dull sound of horses browsing, the breath of a thousand +sleepers, the low whinny of a mare, or the muttered word of one who +dreamed heavily and spoke in his dream, these and the like sounds fed +a murmurous silence that was one with the brooding heaviness of a June +night. + +Odette de Villeneuve--the ears that drank in the voices of the +slumbering host were hers--stood half-hidden in the doorway of her +quarters and listened. The inner darkness had become intolerable to +her. The wattled walls, though they were ventilated by a hundred +crevices, stifled her. Pent behind them she fancied a hundred things; +she saw on the curtain of blackness drawn faces and staring eyes; she +made of the faintest murmur that entered now a roar of voices, and now +the hoarse beginnings of a scream. Outside, with the cooler air +fanning her burning face, she could at least lay hold on reality. She +was no longer the sport and plaything of her own strained senses. She +could at least be sure that nothing was happening, that nothing had +happened--yet. And though she still breathed quickly and crouched like +a fearful thing in the doorway, here she could call hate to her +support, she could reckon her wrongs and think of her lover, and +persuade herself that this was but a nightmare from which she would +awake to find all well with herself and with him. + +If only the thing were over and done! Ah, if only it were done! That +was her feeling. If only the thing were done! She bent her ear to +listen; but nothing stirred, no alarm clove the night; and it could +want little of morning. She fancied that the air struck colder, laden +with that chill which comes before the dawn: and eastwards she thought +that she discerned the first faint lightening of the sky. The day was +at hand and nothing had happened. + +She could not say on the instant whether she was sorry or glad. But +she was sure that she would be sorry when the sun rose high and shone +on her enemy's triumph, and Charles and Roger and Bonne, whom she had +taught herself to despise, saw their choice justified, and the side +they had supported victorious. The triumph of those beneath us is hard +to bear; and at that picture the Abbess's face grew hard, though there +was no one to see it. The blood throbbed in her head as she thought of +it; throbbed so loudly that she questioned the reality of a sound that +a moment later forced itself upon her senses. It was a sound not +unlike the pulsing of the blood; not terrible nor loud, but +rhythmical, such as the tide makes when it rises slowly but +irresistibly to fill some channel left bare at the ebb. + +What was it? She stood arrested. Was it only the blood surging in her +ears? Or was it the silent uprising of a multitude of men, each from +the place where he lay? Or was it, could it be the stealthy march of +countless feet across the camp? + +It might be that. She listened more intently, staying with one hand +the beating of her heart. She decided that it was that. + +Thereon it was all she could do to resist the impulse to give the +alarm. She had no means of knowing in which direction the unseen band +was moving. She could guess, but she might be wrong; and in that case, +at any moment the night might hurl upon her a hundred brutes whose +first victim as they charged through the encampment she must be. She +fancied that the darkness wavered; and here and there bred shifting +forms. She fancied that the dull sound was drawing nearer and growing +louder. And--a scream rose in her throat. + +She choked it down. An instant later she had her reward, if that was a +reward which left her white and shuddering--a coward clinging for +support to the frail wall beside her. + +It was a shrill scream rending the night; such an one as had distended +her own throat an instant before--but stifled in mid-utterance in a +fashion horrible and suggestive. Upon it followed a fierce outcry in +several voices, cut short two seconds later with the same abruptness, +and followed by--silence. Then, while she clung cold, shivering, half +fainting to the wattle, the darkness gave forth again that dull +shuffling, moving sound, a little quickened perhaps, and a little more +apparent. + +This time it caused an alarm. Sharp and clear came a voice from the +ridge, "What goes there? Answer!" + +No answer was given, and "Who goes there?" cried a voice from a +different point, and then "To arms!" cried a third. "To arms! To +arms!" And on a rising wave of hoarse cries the camp awoke. + +The tall form of the Bat seemed to start up within a yard of the +Abbess. He seized a stick that hung beside a drum on a post, and in a +twinkling the hurried notes of the Alert pulsed through the camp. On +the instant men rose from the earth about him; while frightened faces, +seen by the rays of a passing light, looked from hut-doors, and the +cries of a waiting-maid struggling in hysterics mingled with the words +of command that brought the troopers into line and manned the ground +in front of the Vicomte's quarters. A trooper flew up the sloping +rampart to learn from the sentry what he had seen, and was back as +quickly with the news that the guards knew no more than was known +below. They had only heard a suspicious outcry, and following on it +sounds which suggested the movement of a body of men. + +The Bat, bringing order out of confusion--and in that well aided by +Roger, though the lad's heart was bursting with fears for his +mistress--could do naught at the first blush but secure his position. +But when he had got his men placed, and lanthorns so disposed as to +advantage them and hamper an attack, he turned sharply on the man. +"Did they hear my lord's voice?" he asked. + +"It was their fancy. Certainly the outcry came from that part of the +camp." + +"Then out on them!" Roger exclaimed, unable to control himself. "Out +on them. To saddle and let us charge, and woe betide them if they +stand!" + +"Softly, softly," the Bat said. "Orders, young sir! Mine are to stand +firm, whatever betides, and guard the women! And that I shall do until +daylight." + +"Daylight?" Roger cried. + +"Which is not half an hour off!" + +"Half an hour!" The lad's tone rang with indignation. "Are you a man +and will you leave a woman at their mercy?" He was white with rage and +shaking. "Then I will go alone. I will go to their quarters--I, +alone!" As he thought of the girl he loved and her terrors his heart +was too big for his breast. + +"And throw away another life?" the Bat replied sternly. "For shame!" + +"For shame, I?" + +"Ay, you! To call yourself a soldier and cry fie on orders!" + +He would have added more, but he was forestalled by the Vicomte. In +his high petulant tone he bade his son stand for a fool. "There are +women here," he continued, sensibly enough, "and we are none too many +to guard them, as we are." + +"Ay, but she" Roger retorted, trembling, "is alone there." + +"A truce to this!" the Bat struck in, with heat. "To your post, sir, +and do your duty, or we are all lost together. Steady, men, steady!" +as a slight movement of the troopers at the breastwork made itself +felt rather than seen. "Pikes low! Pikes low! What is it?" + +He saw then. The commotion was caused by the approach of a group of +men, three or four in number, whose neighbourhood one of the lights +had just betrayed. "Who comes there?" cried the leader of the +Countess's troopers, who was in charge of that end of the line. "Are +you friends?" + +"Ay, ay! Friends!" + +If so, they were timorous friends. For when they were bidden to +advance to the spot where the Bat with the Vicomte and Roger awaited +them, their alarm was plain. The foremost was the man who had spoken +for the peasants at the debate some days before. But the smith's +boldness and independence were gone; he was ashake with fear. "I have +bad news," he stammered. "Bad news, my lords!" + +"The worse for some one!" the Bat answered with a grim undernote that +should have satisfied even Roger. As he spoke he raised one of the +lights from the ground, and held it so that its rays fell on the +peasants' faces. "Has harm happened to the hostages?" + +"God avert it! But they have been carried off," the man faltered +through his ragged beard. It was evident that he was thoroughly +frightened. + +"Carried off?" + +"Ay, carried off!" + +"By whom? By whom, rascal?" The Bat's eyes glared dangerously. "By +Heaven, if you have had hand or finger in it----" he added. + +"Should I be here if I had?" the man answered, piteously extending his +open hands. + +"I know not. But now you are here, you will stay here! Surround them!" +And when the order had been carried out, "Now speak, or your skin will +pay for it," the Bat continued. "What has happened, spawn of the +dung-heap?" + +"Some of our folk--God knows without our knowledge"--the smith +whined--"brought in a party of the men on the hill----" + +"The Old Crocans from the town?" + +"Ay! And they seized the--my lord and the lady--and got off with them! +As God sees me, they were gone before we were awake!" he protested, +seeing the threatening blade with which Roger was advancing upon him. + +The Lieutenant held the lad back. "Very good," he said. "We shall +follow with the first light. If a hair of their heads be injured, I +shall hang you first, and the rest of you by batches as the trees will +bear!" And with a black and terrible look the Bat swore an oath to +chill the blood. The leader of the Countess's men repeated it after +him, word for word; and Roger, silent but with rage in his eyes, stood +shaking between them, his blade in his hand. + +The Vicomte, his fears for the safety of his own party allayed, turned +to see who were present. He discovered his eldest daughter, leaning as +if not far from fainting, against the doorway of the Duke's quarters. +"Courage, girl," he said, in a tone of rebuke. "We are in no peril +ourselves, and should set an example. Where is your sister?" + +"I do not know," the Abbess replied shakily. It was being borne in on +her that not two lives, but the lives of many, of scores and of +hundreds, might pay for what she had done. And she was new to the +work. "I have not seen her," she repeated with greater firmness, as +she summoned hate to her support, and called up before her fancy the +Countess's childish attractions. "She must be sleeping." + +"Sleeping?" the Vicomte echoed in astonishment. He was going to add +more when another took the words out of his mouth. + +"What is that?" It was Roger's voice fiercely raised. "By Heaven! It +is Fulbert." + +It was Fulbert. As the men, of whom some were saddling--for the light +was beginning to appear--pressed forward to look, the steward crawled +out of the gloom about the brook, and, raising himself on one hand, +made painful efforts to speak. He looked like a dead man risen; nor +did the uncertain light of the lanthorns take from the horror of his +appearance. Probably he had been left for dead, for the smashing blow +of some blunt weapon had beaten in one temple and flooded his face and +beard with blood. The Abbess, faint and sick, appalled by this first +sign of her handiwork, hid her eyes. + +"Follow! Follow!" the poor creature muttered, swaying as he strove to +rise to his feet. "A rescue!" + +"With the first light," the Bat answered him. "With the first light! +How many are they?" + +But he only muttered, "Follow! A rescue! A rescue!" and repeated those +words in such a tone that it was plain that he no longer understood +them, but said them mechanically. Perhaps they had been the last he +had uttered before he was struck down. + +The Bat saw how it was with him; he had seen men in that state before. +"With the first light!" he said, to soothe him. "With the first light +we follow!" Then turning to his men he bade them carry the poor fellow +in and see to his hurts. + +Roger sprang forward, eager to help. And they were bearing the man to +the rear, and the Abbess had taken heart to uncover her eyes, while +still averting them, when a strange sound broke from her lips--lips +blanched in an instant to the colour of paper. It caught the ear of +the Bat, who stood nearest to her. He turned. The Abbess, with arm +outstretched, was pointing to the door of the Countess's hut. There, +visible, though she seemed to shrink from sight, and even raised her +hand in deprecation, stood the Countess herself. + +"By Heaven!" the Bat cried. And he stood. While Roger, in place of +advancing, gazed on her as on a ghost. + +She tried to speak, but no sound came. And for the Abbess she had as +easily spoken as the dead. Her senses tottered, the slim figure danced +before her eyes, the voices of those who spoke came from a great way +off. + +It was the Vicomte who, being the least concerned, was first to find +his voice. "Is it you, Countess?" he quavered. + +The Countess nodded. She could not speak. + +"But how--how have you escaped?" + +"Ay, how?" the Bat chimed in more soberly. He saw that it was no +phantom, though the mystery seemed none the less for that. "How come +you here, Countess? How--am I mad, or did you not go to their quarters +at sundown?" + +"No," she whispered. "I did not go." She framed the words with +difficulty. Between shame and excitement she seemed ready to sink into +the earth. + +"No? You did not? Then who--who did go? Some one went." + +She made a vain attempt to speak. Then commanding herself-- + +"Bonne went--in my place," she cried. And clapping her hands to her +face in a paroxysm of grief, she leant, weeping, against the post of +the door. + +They looked at one another and began to understand, and to see. And +one had opened his mouth to speak, when a strangled cry drew all eyes +to the Abbess. She seemed to be striving to put something from her. +Her staring eyes, her round mouth of horror, her waving fingers made +up a picture of terror comparable only to one of those masks which the +Greeks used in their tragedies of fate. A moment she showed thus, and +none of those who turned eye on her doubted that they were looking on +a stress of passion beside which the Countess's grief was but a puny +thing. The next moment she fell her length in a swoon. + + + * * * * * + + +When she came to herself an hour later she lay for a time with eyes +open but vacant, eyes which saw but conveyed no image to the ailing +brain. The sun was still low. Its shafts darting through the +interstices in the wall of the hut were laden with a million dancing +motes, which formed a shifting veil of light between her eyes and the +roof. She seemed to have been gazing at this a whole aeon when the +first conscious thought pierced her mind, and she asked herself where +she was. + +Where? Not in her own lodging, nor alone. This was borne in on her. +For on one side of her couch crouched one of her women; on the other +knelt the Countess, her face hidden. In the doorway behind the head of +the bed, and so beyond the range of her vision, were others; the low +drone of voices, her father's, the Duke's, penetrated one by one to +her senses still dulled by the shock she had suffered. Something had +happened then; something serious to her, or she would not lie thus +surrounded with watchers on all sides of her bed. Had she been ill? + +She considered this silently, and little by little began to remember: +the flight to the camp, the camp life, the Duke's hut in which she had +passed most of her time in the camp. Yes, she was in the Duke's hut, +and that was his voice. She was lying on his couch. They had been +besieged, she remembered. Had she been wounded? From under half-closed +lids she scrutinised the two women beside her. The one she knew. The +other must be her sister. Yes, her sister would be the first to come, +the first to aid her. But it was not her sister. It was---- + +She knew. + +She called on God and lay white and mute, shaking violently, but with +closed eyes. The women rose and looked at her, and suggested remedies, +and implored her to speak. But she lay cold and dumb, and only from +time to time by violent fits of trembling showed that she was alive. +What had she done? What had she done? + +The women could make nothing of her. Nor when they had tried their +utmost could her father, though he came and chid her querulously; his +tone the sharper for the remorse he was feeling. He had had an hour to +think; and during that hour the obedience which his less cherished +daughter had ever paid him, her cheerful care of him, her patience +with him, had risen before him; and, alas, with these thoughts, the +memory of many an unkind word and act, many a taunt flung at her as +lightly as at the dog that cumbered the hearth. To balance the +account, and a little perhaps because the way in which Odette took it +was an added reproach to him, he spoke harshly to the Abbess--such is +human nature! But, for all the effect his words had on her, he might +have addressed a stone. That which she had done thundered too loudly +in her ears for another's voice to enter. + +She had not loved her sister over dearly, and into such love as she +had given contempt had entered largely. But she was her sister. She +was her sister! Memories of childish days in the garden at Villeneuve, +when Bonne had clung to her hand and run beside her, and prattled, +and played, and quarrelled, and yielded to her--being always the +gentler--rose in her mind; and memories of little words and acts, and +of Bonne's face on this occasion and on that! And dry-eyed she shook +with horror of the thing she had done. Her sister! She had done her +sister to death more cruelly, more foully, more barbarously, than if +she had struck her lifeless at her feet. + +An age, it seemed to her, she lay in this state, cold, paralysed, +without hope. Then a word caught her ear and fixed her attention. + +"They have been away two hours," Joyeuse muttered, speaking low to the +Vicomte. "They should be back." + +"What could they do?" the Vicomte answered in a tone of despair. + +"Forty swords can do much," Joyeuse answered hardily. "Were I sound I +should know what to do. And that right well!" + +"They started too late." + +"The greater reason they should be back! Were all over they would be +back." + +"I have no hope." + +"I have. Had they desired to kill them only," the Duke continued with +reason, "the brutes had done it here, in a moment! If they did not +hope to use them why carry them off?" + +But the Vicomte with a quivering lip shook his head. He was still +thinking--with marvellous unselfishness for him--of the daughter who +had borne with him so long and so patiently. For des Ageaux there +might be hope and a chance. But a woman in the hands of savages such +as those he had seen in the town on the hill! He shuddered as he +thought of it. Better death, better death a hundred times than that. +He did not wish to see her again. + +But in one heart the mention of hope had awakened hope. The Abbess +raised herself on her elbow. "Who have gone?" she asked in a voice so +hollow and changed they started as at the voice of a stranger. "Who +are gone?" she repeated. + +"All but eight spears!" the Duke answered. + +"Why not all?" she cried feverishly. "Why not all?" + +"Some it was necessary to keep," Joyeuse replied gently. "Not one has +been kept that could go. If your sister can be saved, she will be +saved." + +"Too late!" the Vicomte muttered. And he shook his head. + +The Abbess sank back with a groan. But a moment later she broke into a +passion of weeping. The cord that had bound her heart had snapped. The +first horror of the thing which she had done was passing. The first +excuse, the first suggestion that for that which she had not intended +she was not answerable, was whispering at the threshold of her ear. As +she wept in passionate, in unrestrained abandonment, regarding none of +those about her, wonder, an almost resentful wonder, grew in the +Vicomte's heart. He had not given her credit for a tithe, for a +hundredth part of the affection she felt for her sister! For the Duke, +he, who had seen her consistently placid, garbed in gentle dignity, +and as unemotional as she was beautiful, marvelled for a different +reason. He hailed the human in her with delight; he could have blessed +the weeping girl for every tear that proclaimed her woman. By the +depth of her love for her sister he plumbed her capacity for a more +earthly passion. He rejoiced, therefore, as much as he marvelled. + +There was one other upon whom Odette's sudden breakdown wrought even +more powerfully; and that was the Countess. While the sister remained +stunned by the dreadful news and deaf to consolation, the poor child, +who took all to herself and mingled shame with her grief, had not +dared to speak; she had not found the heart or the courage to speak. +Awed by the immensity of the catastrophe, and the Abbess's stricken +face, she had cowered on her knees beside the bed with her face +hidden; and weeping silently and piteously, had not presumed to +trouble the other with her remorse or her useless regret. But the +tears of a woman appeal to another woman after a fashion all their +own. They soften, they invite. No sooner, then, had Odette proclaimed +herself human by the abandonment of her grief than the Countess felt +the impulse to throw herself into her arms and implore her +forgiveness. She knew, none better, that Bonne had suffered in her +place; that in her place and because of her fears--proved only too +real--she had gone to death or worse than death; that the fault lay +with herself. And that she took it to herself, that her heart was full +of remorse and love and contrition--all this she longed to say to the +sister. Before Odette knew what to expect or to fear, the younger +woman was in her arms. + +One moment. The next Odette struck her--struck her with furious, +frantic rage, and flung her from her. "It is you! You have done this! +You!" she cried, panting, and with blazing eyes. "You have killed her! +You!" + +The young girl staggered back with the mark of the Abbess's fingers +crimson on her cheek. She stood an instant breathing hard, the +combative instinct awakened by the blow showing in her eyes and her +small bared teeth. Then she flung her hands to her face. "It is true! +It is true!" she sobbed. "But I did not know!" + +"Know?" the Abbess cried back relentlessly; and she was going to add +other and madder and more insulting words, when her father's face of +amazement checked her. She fell back sullenly, and with a gesture of +despair turned her face to the wall. + +The Vicomte was on his feet, shocked by what had passed. He began to +babble words of apology, of excuse; while Joyeuse, ravished, strange +to say, by the spirit of the woman he had deemed above anger and above +passion, smiled exultant, wondering what new, what marvellous, what +incomparable side of herself this wonderful woman would next exhibit. +He who had exhausted all common types, all common moods, saw that he +had here the quintessence both of heaven and earth. Her beauty, her +meekness, her indignation, her sorrow--what an amalgam was here! And +how all qualities became her! + +Had Roger been there he had taken, it is possible, another view. But +he was not; and presently into the halting flow of the Vicomte's words +crept a murmur, a tramp of feet, a sound indescribable, but +proclaiming news. He broke off. "What is it?" he said. "What is it?" + +"News! Ay, news, for a hundred crowns!" the Duke answered. He moved to +the door. + +The Countess, her face bedabbled with tears, tears of outraged pride +as well as grief, stayed her sobs and looked in the same direction. +Even the Abbess caught the infection, and raising her head from the +pillow listened with parted lips and staring eyes. News! There was +news. But what was it? Good or bad? The Abbess, her heart standing +still, bit her lip till the blood came. + +The murmur of voices drew nearer. + + + + + CHAPTER XVIII. + + TWO IN THE MILL. + + +It is possible that Bonne did not herself know in what proportions +pity and a warmer sentiment entered into her motives when she +undertook to pass for the Countess and assume the girl's risks. +Certainly her first thought was for the Countess; and, for the rest, +she felt herself cleared from the reproach of unmaidenliness by the +danger of the step which she was taking. Even so, as she rode across +the camp in the dusk of the first evening, into the half pain, half +pleasure that burned her cheeks under the disguising hood entered some +heat of shame. + +Not that it formed a part of her plan that des Ageaux should discover +her. To be near him unknown, to share his peril whom she loved, while +he remained unwitting, to give and take nothing--this was the essence +of the mystery that charmed her fancy, this was the heart of the +adventure on which her affection had settled. He, by whose side she +rode, and near whom she must pass the dark hours in a solitude which +only love could rob of its terrors, must never know what she had done +for love of him; or know it only from her lips in a delicious future +on which reason forbade her to count. + +In supporting her disguise she was perfectly successful. No suspicion +that the girl riding beside him in depressed silence was other than +the Countess, the unwilling sharer of his exile, crossed his mind. +Bonne, hooded to the eyes and muffled in her cloak, sat low-hunched on +her horse. Fulbert, who was in the secret, and to whom nothing which +any one could do for his adored mistress seemed odd or extraordinary, +helped her to mount and dismount, and nightly lay grim and stark +across the door of her hut repelling inquiry. Add the fact that the +Lieutenant on his side had his delicacy. Fortune compelled the +Countess into his company, forced her on his protection. It behoved +him to take no advantage, and, short of an indifference that might +appear brutal, to leave her as much as possible to herself. + +Bonne therefore had her wish. He had no slightest suspicion who was +with him. She had, too, if she needed it, proof of his honour; proof +certain that if he loved the great lady, he respected her to the same +extent. Love her he might, see in her a grand alliance he might; but +had he been the adventurer the Abbess styled him, he had surely made +more of this opportunity, more of her helplessness and her dependence. +The Countess's fortune, the wide lands that had tempted Vlaye, what a +chance of making them sure was his! No great lady was here, but a +young girl helpless, terrified, hedged in by perils. Such an one would +be ready at the first word, at a sign, to fling herself into the arms +of her only friend, her only protector, and promise him all and +everything if he would but save her scatheless. + +Bonne had imagination enough, and perhaps jealousy enough, to picture +the temptation. And finding him superior to it--so that in the +sweetness of her secret nearness to him was mingled no gall--she +whispered to herself that if he loved he did not love overmuch. Was it +possible that he did not love--in that direction? Was it possible that +he had no more feeling for the Countess than she had for him? + +Perhaps for an hour Bonne was happy--happy in these thoughts. Happy +while the tones of his even and courteous voice, telling her that she +need fear nothing, dwelt in her ears. For that period the pleasures of +fancy overcame the tremors of the real. Then--for sleep was in no +haste to visit her--a chance rustle, caused by something moving in her +neighbourhood, the passage it might be of a prowling dog, made her +prick her ears, forced her against her will to listen, sent a creepy +chill down her back. After that she was lost. She did not wish to +think of such things, it was foolish to think of such things; but how +flimsy were the walls of her hut! How defenceless she lay, in the +midst of the savage, grisly horde, whose looks even in the daylight +had paled her cheeks. How useless must two swords prove against a +multitude! + +She must divert her thoughts. Alas, when she tried to do so, she found +it impossible. It was in vain that she chid herself, in vain that she +asked herself what she was doing there, if des Ageaux' presence were +no charm against fear, if with him at hand she was a coward! Always +some sound, something that seemed the shuffle of feet or the whisper +of murder, brought her to earth with quivering nerves; and as by the +Lieutenant's desire she burned no light, she could not interpret the +most innocent alarm or learn its origin. She was no coward. But to lie +in the dark, expecting and trembling, and thrice in the hour to sit up +bathed in perspiration--a short experience of this left her no right +to despise the younger girl whose place she had taken. When at last +the longed-for light pierced the thin walls, and she knew that the +night was past, she knew also that she looked forward to a second with +dread. And she hated herself for it. + +Not that to escape a hundred such nights would she withdraw. If she +suffered, what must the child have suffered? She was clear that the +Countess must not go again. But during the day she was more grave than +usual; more tender with her father, more affectionate to her sister. +And when she rode across the camp in the evening, exciting as little +suspicion as before, she carried with her, hidden in her dress, a +thing that she touched now and again to assure herself of its safety. +She took it with her to the rough pallet on which she lay in her +clothes; and her hand clasped it under the pillow. Something of a link +it seemed between her and des Ageaux, so near yet so unwitting; for as +she held it her mind ran on him. It kept at bay, albeit it was a +strange amulet for a woman's hand, the thought that had troubled her +the previous night; and though more than once she raised herself on +her elbow, fancying that she heard some one moving outside, the +panic-terror that had bedewed her brow was absent. She lay down again +on these occasions with her fingers on her treasure. And towards +morning she slept--slept so soundly that when the light touched her +eyelids and woke her, she sprang up in pleased confusion. They were +calling her, the horses were waiting at the door. And in haste she +wrapped herself in her travesty. + +"I give you joy of your courage, Countess!" the Lieutenant said, as he +came forward to assist her to mount. Fortunately Fulbert, with +apparent clumsiness, interposed and did her the office. "You have +slept?" des Ageaux continued, as he swung himself into his saddle and +took his place by her side. "That's good," accepting her inarticulate +murmur for assent. "Well, one more night will end it, I fancy. I +greatly, very greatly regret," he continued, speaking with more warmth +than usual, "that it has been necessary to expose you to this strain, +Countess." + +Again she muttered something through her closely drawn hood. +Fortunately a chill, grey mist, through which the huts loomed +gigantic, swathed the camp, and he thought that it was to guard +herself from this that she kept her mouth covered. He suspected +nothing, though, at dismounting, Fulbert interposed again. In two +minutes from starting she was safe within the shelter of the +Countess's hut, with the Countess's arms about her, and the child's +grateful kisses warm on her cheek. + +He had praised her courage! That was something; nay, it was much if he +learned the truth. But he should never learn it from her, she was +resolved. She had the loyalty which, if it gives, gives nobly; nor by +telling robs the gift of half its virtue. She had saved the younger +woman some hours of fear and misery, but at a price too high were she +ever to speak and betray her confidence. No one saw that more clearly +than Bonne, or was more firmly resolved to hide her share in the +matter. + +The third night she set out, not with indifference, since she rode by +his side whose presence could never be indifferent to her, but with a +heart comparatively light. If she took with her the charm which had +served her so well, if it attended her to her couch and lay beneath +her pillow, it was no longer the same thing to her; she smiled as she +placed it there. And if her fingers closed on it in silence and +darkness and she derived some comfort from it, she fell asleep with +scarce a thought of the things its presence imported. For two nights +she had slept little; now, worn-out, she was proof against all +ordinary sounds, the rustle of a dog prowling in search of food, or +the restless movements of a horse tethered near. Ay, and against other +sounds as stealthy as these and more dangerous, that by-and-by crept +rustling and whispering through the camp; sounds caused by a cloud of +low stooping figures that moved and halted, lurked behind huts, and +anon swept forward across an open space, and again lurking showed like +some dark shadow of the night. + +A shadow fraught, when it bared its face, with horror! For what was +that cry, sharp, wild, stopped in mid-utterance? + +Even as Bonne sprang up palpitating, and glared at the open doorway, +the cry rose again--close by her; and the doorway melted into a press +of dark forms that hurled themselves on her as soon as they were seen. +She was borne back, choked, stifled; and desperately writhing, vainly +striving to shriek, or to free mouth or hands from the folds of the +coverlets that blinded her, she felt herself lifted up in a grasp +against which it was vain to struggle. A moment, and with a shock that +took away what breath was left in her, she was flung head and heels +across something--across a horse; for the moment the thing felt her +weight it moved under her. + +Whoever rode it held her pitilessly, cruelly heedless of the pain her +position caused her. She could hardly breathe, she could not see, the +movement was torture; for her arms, pinned above her head, were caught +in the folds of the thing that swathed her, and she could not use them +to support herself. Her one thought, her only thought was to keep her +senses; her one instinct to maintain her grip on the long sharp knife +which had lain under her pillow; and which had become more valuable to +her than the wealth of the world. The hand that had rested on it in +her sleep had tightened on it in the moment of surprise. She had it, +she felt it, her fingers, even while she groaned in pain, stiffened +about its haft. + +It was useless to struggle, but by a movement she managed at last to +relieve the pressure on her side. The blood ceased to run so +tumultuously to her head. And by-and-by, under the mufflings, she +freed her hands, and by holding apart the edges of the stuff was able +to breathe more easily, and even to learn something of what was +happening about her. Abreast of her horse moved another horse, and on +either side of the two ran and trotted a score of pattering naked +feet, feet of the unkempt filthy Crocans from the hill-town, or of the +more desperate spirits in the camp--feet of men from whom no ruth or +mercy was to be expected. + +Were they clear of the camp? Yes, for to one side the water of the +stream glimmered between the pattering feet. As she made the discovery +the other horse sidled against the one that bore her, and all but +crushed her head and shoulders between their bodies. She only saved +herself by lifting herself convulsively; on which the man who held her +thrust her down brutally with an oath as savage as the action. She +uttered a moan of pain, but it was wrung from her against her will. +She would have suffered twice as much and gladly to learn what she +knew now. + +The horse beside her also carried double; and the after rider was a +prisoner, a man with his hands bound behind him, and his feet roped +under the horse's body. A prisoner? If so it could be no other than +des Ageaux. As she swung, painfully, to the movement of the horse +across whose withers she lay, her pendant hands lacked little of +touching, under cover of the stuff, his bound wrists. + +Little? Nay, nothing. For suddenly the footmen, for a reason which she +did not immediately divine, fell away leftwards, and the horse that +bore the other prisoner strove to turn with them. Being spurred it +sidled once more against hers, and though she raised herself, her head +rubbed the rider's leg. The man noticed it, patted her head, and made +a jest upon it. "She wants to come to me," he said. "My burden for +yours, Matthias!" + +"Wait until we are through the ford and I'll talk," her captor +answered. "What will you offer for her? But it is so cursed dark +here"--with an oath--"I can see nothing! We had better have crossed +with them at the stepping-stones and led over." As he spoke he turned +his horse to the ford. + +She knew then that the footmen had crossed by the stepping-stones, a +hundred yards short of the ford. And she felt that Heaven itself had +given her, weak as she was, this one opportunity. As the men urged +their horses warily into the stream she stretched herself out stiffly, +and gripping the bound hands that hung within her reach, she cut +recklessly, heeding little whether she cut to the bone if she could +only cut the cords. The man who held her felt her body writhing under +his hand; for she knew that any instant the other horse might move out +of reach. But he was thinking most of his steed's footing, he had no +fear that she could wrest herself from him, and he contented himself +for the moment with a curse and a threat. + +"Burn the wench," he cried, "she won't be still!" + +"Don't let her go!" the other answered. + +"No fear! And when we have her on the hill she shall pay for this! +When----" + +It was his last word. The keen long knife had passed from her hands to +des Ageaux', from her weak fingers to his practised grip. As the man +who held her paused to peer before him--for the ford, shadowed by +spreading trees, was dark as pitch--des Ageaux drove the point +straight and sure into the throat above the collar-bone. The action +was so sudden, so unexpected, that the man he struck had no time to +cry out, but with a low gurgling moan fell forward on his burden. + +His comrade who rode before the Lieutenant knew little more. Before he +could turn, almost before he could give the alarm, the weapon was +driven in between his shoulders, and the Lieutenant, availing himself +of the purchase which his bound feet gave him, hurled him over the +horse's head. Unfortunately the man had time to utter one shriek, and +the cry with the splash, and the plunging of the terrified horse, bore +the alarm to his comrades on the bank. + +"What is it? What is the matter?" a voice asked. And a score of feet +could be heard pounding hurriedly along the bank. + +The Lieutenant had one moment only in which to make his choice. If he +remained on the horse, which he could not restrain, for the reins had +fallen, he might escape, but the girl must perish. He did not +hesitate. As the frightened horse reared he cut his feet loose, and +slid from it. He made one clutch at the floating reins but missed +them. Before he could make a second the terrified animal was on the +bank. + +There remained the girl's horse. But Bonne, drenched by the dying +man's blood, had flung herself off--somehow, anyhow, in irrepressible +horror. As des Ageaux turned she rose, dripping and panting beside +him, her nerve quite gone. "Oh, oh!" she cried. "Save me! Save me!" +and she clung to him. + +Alas, while she clung to him her horse floundered out of the stream, +and trotted after its fellow. + +The pursuers were no more than thirty yards away, and but for the deep +shadow which lay on the ford must have seen them. The Lieutenant had +no time to think. He caught the girl up, and as quickly as he could he +waded with her to the bank from which they had entered the water. Once +on dry land he set her on her feet, seized her wrist and gripped it +firmly. + +"Courage!" he said. "We must run! Run for your life, and if we can +reach the wind-mill we may escape!" + +He spoke harshly, but his words had the effect he intended. She +straightened herself, caught up her wet skirt and set off with him +across the road and up the bare hill-side. He knew that not far above +them stood a wind-mill with a narrow doorway in which one man might +make some defence against numbers. The chance was slight, the hope +desperate; but he could see no other. Already the pursuers were +splashing through the ford and scattering on the trail, some running +up the stream, some down, some stooping cunningly to listen. To remain +beside the water was to be hunted as otters are hunted. + +His plan answered well at first. For a few precious instants their +line of retreat escaped detection. They even increased their start, +and had put fifty or sixty yards of slippery hill-side between +themselves and danger before a man of sharper ears than his fellows +caught the sound of a stone rolling down the slope, and drew the hue +and cry in the right direction. By that time the dark form of the +wind-mill was faintly visible sixty or eighty yards above the +fugitives. And the race was not ill set. + +But Bonne's skirt hung heavy, her knees shook; and nearer and nearer +she heard the pursuers' feet. She could do no more! She must fall, her +lungs were bursting! But des Ageaux dragged her on ruthlessly, and on; +and now the wind-mill was not ten paces before them. + +"In!" he cried. "In!" And loosing her hand, he turned, quick as a +hare, the knife gleaming in his hand. + +But the nearest man--the Lieutenant's ear had told him that only one +was quite near--saw the action and the knife, and as quickly sheered +off, to wait for his companions. The Lieutenant turned again, and in +half a dozen bounds was through the low narrow doorway and in the mill +tower. + +He had no sword, he had only the knife, still reeking. But he made no +complaint. Instead, "There were sheep penned here yesterday," he +panted. "There are some bars somewhere. Grope for them and find them." + +"Yes!" she said. And she groped bravely in the darkness, though her +breath came in sobs. She found the bars. Before the half-dozen men who +led the chase had squeezed their courage to the attacking point, the +bars that meant so much to the fugitives were in their places. Then +des Ageaux bade her keep on one side, while he crouched with his knife +beside the opening. + +The men outside were chattering and scolding furiously. At length they +scattered, and instead of charging the doorway, fired a couple of +shots into it and held off, waiting for reinforcements. "Courage, we +have a fair chance now," the Lieutenant muttered. And then in a +different tone, "Thanks to you! Thanks to you!" with deep emotion. +"Never woman did braver thing!" + +"Then do you one thing for me!" she answered, her voice shaking. +"Promise that I shall not fall into their hands! Promise, sir, +promise," she continued hysterically, "that you will kill me yourself! +I have given you my knife. I have given you all I had. If you will not +promise you must give it back to me." + +"God forbid!" he said. And then, "Dear Lord, am I mad? Who was it I +picked up at the ford? Am I mad or dreaming? You are not the +Countess?" + +"I took her place," she panted. "I am Bonne de Villeneuve." The place +was so dark that neither could see the other's face, nor so much as +the outline of the figure. + +"I might have known it," he cried impulsively. And even in that moment +of danger, of discomfort, of uncertainty, the girl's heart swelled at +the inference she drew from his words. "I might have known it!" he +repeated with emotion. "No other woman would have done it, sweet, +would have done it' But how--I am as far from understanding as +ever--how come you to be here? And not the Countess?" + +"I took her place," Bonne repeated--the truth must out now. "She is +very young and it was hurting her. She was ill." + +"You took her place? To-night?" + +"This is--the third night." + +"And I"--in a tone of wonder that a second time brought the blood to +her cheeks--"I never discovered you! You rode beside me all those +nights--all those nights and I never knew you! Is it possible?" + +She did not answer. + +He was silent a moment. Then, "By Heaven, it was well for me that you +did!" he murmured. "Very well! Very well! Without you where should I +be now?" His eyes strove to pierce the darkness in which she crouched +on the farther side of the opening, scarce out of reach of his hand. +"Where should I be now? A handsome situation," he continued bitterly, +"for the Governor of Perigord to be seized and hurried to a dog's +death by a band of brigands! And to be rescued by a woman!" + +"Is it so dreadful to you," she murmured, "to owe your life to a +woman?" + +"Is it so dreadful to me," he repeated in an altered tone, "to owe my +life to you, do you mean? I am willing to owe all to you. You are the +only woman----" + +But there, even as her heart began to flutter, he stopped. He stopped +and she fell to earth. "They are coming!" he muttered. "Keep yourself +close! For God's sake, keep yourself close!" + +"And you too!" she cried impulsively. "Your life is mine." + +He did not answer: perhaps he did not hear. The Crocans who had spent +some minutes in consultation had brought a beam up the hill. They were +about to drive it against the stout wooden bars, of which they must +have guessed the presence, since they could not see them. The plan was +not unwise; and as they fell into a ragged line on either side of the +ram, while three skirmished forward, with a view to leaping into the +opening before the defenders could recover from the shock, the +Lieutenant's heart sank. The form of attack was less simple than he +had hoped. He had exulted too soon. + +Whether Bonne knew this or not, she acted as if she knew it. As the +leader of the assault shouted to his men to be ready, and the men +lifted the beam hip high, she flitted across the opening, and des +Ageaux felt her fingers close upon his arm. + +He did not misunderstand her: he knew that she meant only to remind +him of his promise. But at the touch a wave of feeling, as unexpected +as it was irresistible, filled the breast of the case-hardened +soldier; who, something cold by nature, had hitherto found in his +career all that he craved. At that touch the admiration and interest +which had been working within him since his talk with Bonne in the old +garden at Villeneuve blossomed into a feeling infinitely more tender, +infinitely stronger--into a love that craved return. The girl who had +saved him, who had proved herself so brave, so true, so gentle, what a +wife would she be! What a mother of brave and loyal and gentle +children, meet sons and daughters of a loyal sire! And even as he +thought that thought and was conscious of the love that pervaded his +being, he felt her shiver against him, and before he knew it his arm +was round her, he was clasping her to him, giving her assurance that +until the end--until the end he would not let her go! He would never +let her go. + +And the end was not yet. For his lips in that moment which he thought +might be their last found hers in the darkness, and she knew seconds +of a great joy that seemed to her long as hours as she crouched +against him unresisting; while the last orders of the men who sought +their lives found strange echo in his words of love. + +Crash! The splinters flew to right and left, the two upper bars were +gone, dully the beam struck the back of the mill. But he had drawn her +behind him, and was waiting with the tight-grasped knife for the man +bold enough to leap through the opening. Woe betide the first, though +he must keep his second blow for her. After that--if he had to strike +her--there would be one moment of joy, while he fought them. + +But the stormers, poor-hearted, deemed the breach insufficient. They +drew back the beam, intending to break the lowest bar, which still +held place. Once more they cried, "One! Two!" But not "Three!" In +place of the word a yell of pain rang loud, down crashed the +battering-ram, and high rose--as all fled headlong--a clamour of +shrieks and curses. A moment and the thunder of hoofs followed, and +mail-clad men, riding recklessly along the steep hill-side, fell on +the poor naked creatures, and driving them pell-mell before them amid +stern cries of vengeance, cut and hacked them without mercy. + +Trembling violently, Bonne clung to her lover. "Oh, what is it? What +is it?" she cried. "What is it?" Her spirits could endure no more. + +"Safety!" he replied, the harder nature of the man asserting itself. +"Safety, sweetheart! Hold up your head, brave! What, swooning now when +all is well!" + +Ay, swooning now. The word safety sufficed. She fell against him, her +head dropped back. + +As soon as he was assured of it, he lifted her in his arms with a new +feeling of ownership. And climbing, not without difficulty, over the +bar that remained, he emerged into something that, in comparison of +the darkness within the mill, was light--for the day was coming. +Before the door two horsemen, still in their saddles, awaited him. One +was tall, the other stout and much shorter. + +"Is that you, Roger?" he asked. It was not light enough to discern +faces. + +The shorter figure to which he addressed himself did not answer. The +other, advancing a pace and reining up, spoke. + +"No," he said, in a tone that at once veiled and exposed his triumph, +"I am the Captain of Vlaye. And you are my prisoner." + + + + + CHAPTER XIX. + + THE CAPTAIN OF VLAYE's CONDITION. + + +The four who looked to the door of the Duke's hut, and waited for the +news, were not relieved as quickly as they expected. When men return +with no news they are apt to forget that others are less wise than +themselves; and where, with something to impart, they had flown to +relieve the anxious, they are prone to forget that the negative has +its value for those who are in suspense. + +Hence some minutes elapsed before Roger presented himself. And when he +came and they cried breathlessly, "Well, what news?" his answer was a +look of reproach. + +"Should I not have come at once if there had been any?" he said. +"Alas, there is none." + +"But you must have some!" they cried. + +"Nothing," he answered, almost sullenly. "All we know is that they +quarrelled over their prisoners. The hill above the ford is a +shambles." + +The Vicomte repressed the first movement of horror. "Above the ford?" +he said. "How came they there?" + +Roger shrugged his shoulders. "We don't know," he said. And then +reading a dreadful question in his sister's eyes, "No, there is no +sign of them," he continued. "We crossed to the old town on the hill, +but found it locked and barred. The brutes mopped and mowed at us from +the wall, but we could get no word of Christian speech from them. They +seemed to be in terror of us--which looks ill. But we had no ladders +and no force sufficient to storm it, and the Bat sent me back with ten +spears to make you safe here while he rode on with Charles towards +Villeneuve." + +"Villeneuve?" the Vicomte asked, raising his eyebrows. "Why?" + +"There were tracks of a large body of horsemen moving in that +direction. The Bat hopes that some of the wretches quarrelled with the +others, and carried off the prisoners, and are holding them safe--with +an eye to their own necks." + +"God grant it!" Odette muttered in a low tone, and with so much +feeling that all looked at her in wonder. Nor had the prayer passed +her lips many seconds before it was answered. The sound of voices drew +their looks to the door, a shadow fell across the threshold, the +substance followed. As the little Countess sprang forward with a +shriek of joy and the Abbess dropped back in speechless emotion, Bonne +stood before them. + +"He has granted her prayer," the Duke muttered in astonishment. "_Laus +Deo!_" While Roger, scarcely less surprised than if a ghost had +appeared before them, stared at his sister with all his eyes. + +She barely looked at them. "I am tired," she said. "Bear with me a +moment. Let me sit down." Then, as if she were not content with the +surprise which her words caused, "Don't touch me!" she continued, +recoiling before the Countess's approach. "Wait until you have heard +all. You have little cause for joy. Wait!" + +The Vicomte thought his worst fears justified. "But, my child," he +faltered, "is that all you have to say to us?" And to the others, in a +lower voice, "She is distraught! She is beside herself. Can those +wretches----" + +"I escaped them," she replied, in the same dull tones. "They have done +me no harm. Let me rest a minute before I tell you." + +Roger stayed the inquiry after the Lieutenant which was on his lips. +It was evident to him and to all that something serious had happened: +that the girl before them was not the girl who had ridden away +yesterday with so brave a heart. But, freed from that fear of the +worst which the Vicomte had entertained, they knew not what to think. +Some signs of shock, some evidences of such an experience as she had +passed through, were natural; but the reaction should have cast her +into their arms, not withheld her--should have flung her weeping on +her sister's shoulder, not frozen her in this strange apathy. + +The Abbess, indeed, who had recovered from the paroxysm of gratitude +into which Bonne's return had cast her, eyed her sister with the +shadow of a terror. Conscience, which makes cowards of us all, +suggested to her an explanation of her sister's condition, adequate +and more than adequate. A secret alarm kept her silent therefore: +while the young Countess, painfully aware that she had escaped all +that Bonne had suffered, sank under new remorse. For the others, they +did not know what to think: and stealthily reading one another's eyes, +felt doubts that they dared not acknowledge. Was it possible, +notwithstanding her denial, that she had suffered ill-treatment? + +"Perhaps it were better," the Duke muttered, "if we left mademoiselle +in the care of her sister?" + +But low as he spoke, Bonne heard. She raised her head wearily. "This +does not lie with her," she said. + +The Abbess breathed more freely. The colour came back to her cheeks. +She sat upright, relieved from the secret fear that had oppressed her. +"With whom, then, child?" she asked in her natural voice. "And why +this mystery? But we--have forgotten"--her voice faltered, "we have +forgotten," she repeated hardily, "M. des Ageaux. Is he safe?" + +"It is of him I am going to speak," Bonne replied heavily. + +"He has not--he has not fallen." + +"He is alive." + +"Thank Heaven for that!" Roger cried with heartiness, his eyes +sparkling. "Has he gone on with Charles and the Bat?" + +"No." + +"Then where is he?" She did not answer, and, startled, Roger looked at +her, the others looked at her. All waited for the reply. + +"He is in the Captain of Vlaye's hands," she said slowly. And a gentle +spasm, the beginning of weeping which did not follow, convulsed her +features. "He saved me," she continued in trembling tones, "from the +peasants, only to fall into M. de Vlaye's hands." + +"Well, that was better!" Roger answered. + +Her lips quivered, but she did not reply. Perhaps she was afraid of +losing that control over herself which it had cost her much to +compass. + +But the Vicomte's patience, never great, was at an end. He saw that +this was going to prove a troublesome matter. Hence his sudden +querulousness. "Come, come, girl," he said petulantly. "Tell us what +has happened, and no nonsense! Come, an end, I say! Tell us what has +happened from the beginning, and let us have no mysteries!" + +She began. In a low voice, and with the same tokens of repressed +feeling, she detailed what had happened from the moment of the +invasion of her hut by the peasants to the release of des Ageaux and +the struggle in the river-bed. + +"He owes us a life there," the Vicomte exclaimed, while Roger's eyes +beamed with pride. + +She paid no heed to her father's interjection, but continued the story +of the succeeding events--the assault on the mill, and the arrival of +Vlaye and his men. + +"Who in truth and fact saved your lives then," Roger said. "I forgive +him much for that! It is the best thing I have heard of him." + +"He saved my life," Bonne replied, with a faint but perceptible +shudder. She kept her eyes down as if she dared not meet their looks. + +"But the Lieutenant's too," the Vicomte objected. "You told us that he +was alive." + +"He is alive," she murmured. And the trembling began to overpower her. +"Still alive." + +"Then----" + +"But to-morrow at sunrise--" her voice shook with the pent-up +misery, the long-repressed pain of her three hours' ride from +Vlaye--"to-morrow at sunrise, he--he must die!" + +"What?" + +The word came from one who so far had been silent. And the Duke rising +from his place by the door stood upright, supporting his weakened form +against the wall of the hut. "What?" he repeated in a voice that in +spite of his weakness rang clear and loud with anger. "He will not +dare!" + +"M. de Vlaye?" the Vicomte muttered in a discomfited tone, "I am +sure--I am sure he will not--dream of such a thing. Certainly not!" + +"M. de Vlaye says that if--if----" Bonne paused as if she could not +force her pallid lips to utter the words--"he says that at sunrise +to-morrow he will hang him as the Lieutenant last week hung one of his +men." + +"For murder! Clear proved murder!" Roger cried in an agitated voice. +"Before witnesses!" + +"Then by my salvation I will hang him!" Joyeuse retorted in a voice +which shook with rage; and one of those frantic, blasphemous passions +to which all of his race were subject overcame him. "I will hang him +high as Haman, and like a dog as he is!" He snatched a glove from a +peg on the wall beside him, and flung it down with violence. "Give him +that, the miserable upstart!" he shrieked, "and tell him that as +surely as he keeps his word, I, Henry of Joyeuse, who for every spear +he boasts can set down ten to that, will hang him though God and all +His saints stand between! Give it him! Give it him! On foot or on +horse, in mail or in shirt, alone or by fours, I am his and will drag +his filthy life from him! Go!" he continued, turning, his eyes +suffused with rage, on Roger. "Or bid them bring me my horse and arms! +I will to him now, now, and pluck his beard! I----" + +"My lord, my lord," Roger remonstrated. "You are not fit." + +Joyeuse sank back exhausted on his stool. "For him and such as he more +than fit," he muttered. "More than fit--coward as he is!" But his tone +and evident weakness gave him the lie. He looked feebly at his hand, +opening and closing it under his eyes. "Well, let him wait," he said. +"Let him wait awhile. But if he does this, I will kill him as surely +as I sit here!" + +"Ay, to be sure!" the Vicomte chimed in. "But unless I mistake, my +lord, we are on a false scent. There was something of a condition +unless I am in error. This silly girl, who is more moved than is +needful, said--_if_, _if_--that M. de Vlaye would hang him, +_unless_---- What was it, child, you meant?" + +She did not answer. + +It was Roger whose wits saved her the necessity. His eyes were +sharpened by affection; he knew what had gone before. He guessed that +which held her tongue. + +"We must give up the Countess!" he cried in generous scorn. "That is +his condition. I guess it!" + +Bonne bowed her head. She had felt that to state the condition to the +helpless, terrified girl at whose expense it must be performed was a +shame to her; that to state it as if she craved its performance, +expected its performance, looked for its performance, was a thing +still baser, a thing dishonouring to her family, not worthy a +Villeneuve--a thing that must smirch them all and rob them of the only +thing left to them, their good name. + +Yet if she did not speak, if she did not make it known? If she did not +do this for him who loved her and whom she loved? If he perished +because she was too proud to crave his life, because she feared lest +her cloak be stained ever so little? That, too, was--she could not +face that. + +She was between the hammer and the anvil. The question, what she +should do, had bowed her to the ground. She had seen as she rode that +she must choose between honour and life; her lover's life, her own +honour! + +Meanwhile, "Give up the Countess?" the Vicomte muttered, staring at +his son in dull perplexity. "Give up the Countess? Why?" + +"Unless she is surrendered," Roger explained in a low voice, "he will +carry out his threat. He goes back, sir, to his old plan of +strengthening himself. It is very clear. He thinks that with the +Countess in his power he can make use of her resources, and by their +means defy us." + +"He is a villain!" the Vicomte cried, touched in his tenderest point. + +"Villain or no villain, I will cut his throat!" Joyeuse exclaimed, his +rage flaming up anew. "If he touch but a hair of des Ageaux' head--who +was wounded striving to save my brother's life at Coutras, as all the +world knows--I will never leave him nor forsake him till I have his +life!" + +"I fear that will not avail the Lieutenant," Roger muttered +despondently. + +"No. No, it may not," the Vicomte agreed, "but we cannot help that." +He, in truth, was able to contemplate the Lieutenant's fate without +too much vexation, or any overweening temptation to abandon the +Countess. "We cannot help it, and that is all that remains to be said. +If he will do this he must do it. And when his own time comes his +blood be upon his own head!" + +But the girl who shared with Bonne the tragedy of the moment had +something to say. Slowly the Countess stood up. Timid she was, but she +had the full pride of her race, and shame had been her portion since +the discovery of the thing Bonne had done to save her. The smart of +the Abbess's fingers still burned her cheek and seared her pride. +Here, Heaven-sent, as it seemed, was the opportunity of redressing the +wrong which she had done to Bonne and of setting herself right with +the woman who had outraged her. + +The price which she must pay, the costliness of the sacrifice did not +weigh with her at this moment, as it would weigh with her when her +blood was cool. To save Bonne's lover stood for something; to assert +herself in the eyes of those who had seen her insulted and scorned +stood for much. + +"No," she said with simple dignity. "There is something more to be +said, M. le Vicomte. If it be a question of M. des Ageaux' life, I +will go to the Captain of Vlaye." + +"You will go?" the Vicomte cried, astounded. "You, mademoiselle?" + +"Yes," she replied slowly, and with a little hardening of her childish +features. "I will go. Not willingly, God knows! But rather than M. des +Ageaux should die, I will go." + +They cried out upon her, those most loudly who were least +interested in her decision. But the one for whose protest she +listened--Roger--was silent. She marked that; for she was a woman, and +Roger's timid attentions had not passed unnoticed, nor, it may be, +unappreciated. And the Abbess was silent. She, whose heart this latest +proof of her lover's infidelity served but to harden, she whose soul +revolted from the possibility that the deed which she had done to +separate Vlaye from the Countess might cast the girl into his arms, +was silent in sheer rage. Into far different arms had she thought to +cast the Countess! Now, if this were to be the end of her scheme, the +devil had indeed mocked her! + +Nor did Bonne speak, though her heart was full. For her feelings +dragged her two ways, and she would not, nay, she could not speak. +That much she owed to her lover. Yet the idea of sacrificing a woman +to save a man shocked her deeply, shocked alike her womanliness and +her courage; and not by a word, not by so much as the raising of a +finger would she press the girl, whose very rank and power left her +friendless among them, and made her for the time their sport. But +neither--though her heart was racked with pity and shame--would she +dissuade her. In any other circumstances which she could conceive, she +had cast her arms about the child and withheld her by force. But her +lover--her lover was at stake. How could she sacrifice him? How prefer +another to him? And after all--she, too, acknowledged, she, too, felt +the force of the argument--after all, the Countess would be only where +she would have been but for her. But for her the young girl would be +already in Vlaye's power; or worse, in the peasants' hands. If she +went now she did but assume her own perils, take her own part, stand +on her own feet. + +"I shall go the rather," the Countess continued coldly, using that +very argument, "since I should be already in his power had I gone +myself to the peasants' camp!" + +"You shall not go! You cannot go!" the Vicomte repeated with stupid +iteration. + +"M. le Vicomte," she answered, "I am the Countess of Rochechouart." +And the little figure, the infantine face, assumed a sudden dignity. + +"It is unbecoming!" + +"It becomes me less to let a gallant gentleman die." + +"But you will be in Vlaye's power." + +"God willing," she replied, her spirit still sustaining her. Was not +the Abbess, whom she was beginning to hate, looking at her? + +Ay, looking at her with such eyes, with such thought, as would have +overwhelmed her could she have read them. Bitter indeed, were Odette's +reflections at this moment--bitter! She had stained her hands and the +end was this. She had stooped to a vile plot, to an act that might +have cost her sister her life, and with this for reward. The triumph +was her rival's. Before her eyes and by her act this silly chit, with +heroics on her lips, was being forced into his arms! And she, Odette, +stood powerless to check the issue of her deed, impotent to interfere, +unable even to vent the words of hatred that trembled on her lips. + +For the Duke was listening, and she had still enough prudence, enough +self-control, to remember that she must not expose her feelings in his +presence. On him depended what remained: the possibility of vengeance, +the chances of ambition. She knew that she could not speak without +destroying the image of herself which she had wrought so patiently to +form. And even when he added his remonstrances to her father's, and +hot words imputing immodesty rose to the Abbess's lips--words that +must have brought the blood to the Countess's cheeks and might have +stung her to the renunciation of her project, she dared not utter +them. She swallowed her passion, and showed only a cold mask of +surprise. + +Not that the Duke said much. For after a while, "Well, perhaps it is +best," he said. "What if she pass into his power! It is better a woman +marry than a man die. We can make the one a widow; whereas to bring +the other to life would puzzle the best swordsman in France!" + +The Vicomte persisted. "But there is no burden laid on the Countess to +do this," he said. "And I for one will be no party to it! What? Have +it said that I surrendered the Countess of Rochechouart who sought my +protection?" + +"Sir," the girl replied, trembling slightly, "no one surrenders the +Countess save the Countess. But that the less may be said to your +injury, my own people shall attend me thither, and----" + +"They will avail you nothing!" the Vicomte replied with a frankness +that verged on brutality. "You do not understand, mademoiselle. You +are scarcely more than a child, and do not know to what you are going. +You have been wont to be safe in your own resources, and now, were a +fortnight given you to gather your power, you could perhaps make M. de +Vlaye tremble. But you go from here, in three hours you will be there, +and then you will be as much in his power, despite your thirty or +forty spears, as my daughter was this morning!" + +"I count on nothing else," she said. But her face burned. And Bonne, +who suffered with her, Bonne who was dragged this way and that, and +would and would not, in whom love struggled with pity and shame with +joy, into her face, too, crept a faint colour. How cowardly, oh, how +cowardly seemed her conduct! How base in her to buy her happiness at +the price of this child's misery! To ransom her lover at a woman's +cost! It was a bargain that in another's case she had repudiated with +scorn, with pride, almost with loathing. But she loved, she loved. And +who that loved could hesitate? One here and there perhaps, some woman +of a rare and noble nature, cast in a higher mould than herself. But +not Bonne de Villeneuve. + +Yet the word she would not utter trembled on her tongue. And once, +twice the thought of Roger shook her. He, too, loved, yet he bore in +silence to see his mistress delivered, tied and bound, to his rival! + +How, she asked herself, how could he do it, how could he suffer it? +How could he stand by and see this innocent depart to such a fate, to +such a lot! + +That puzzled her. She could understand the acquiescence of the others; +of her sister, whom M. de Vlaye's inconstancy must have alienated, of +Joyeuse, who was under an obligation to des Ageaux, of the Vicomte, +who, affecting to take the Countess's part, thought in truth only of +himself. But Roger? In his place she felt that she must have spoken +whatever came of it, that she must have acted whatever the issue. + +Yet Roger, noble, generous Roger--for even while she blamed him with +one half of her mind, she blessed him with the other--stood silent. + +Silent, even when the Countess with a quivering lip and a fleeting +glance in his direction--perhaps she, too, had looked for something +else at his hands--went out, her surrender a settled thing; and it +became necessary to give orders to her servants, to communicate with +the Bat, and to make such preparations as the withdrawal of her men +made necessary. The Duke's spears were expected that day or the next, +but it needed no sharp eye to discern that Vlaye's capture of the +Lieutenant had taken much of the spirit out of the attack. The +Countess's men must now be counted on the Captain of Vlaye's side; +while the peasants, weakened by the slaughter which Vlaye had +inflicted on them at the mill, and by the distrust which their +treachery must cause, no longer stood for much in the reckoning. It +was possible that the Lieutenant's release might reanimate the forces +of the law, that a second attempt to use the peasants might fare +better than the first, that Joyeuse's aid might in time place des +Ageaux in a position to cope with his opponent. But these were +possibilities only, and the Vicomte for one put no faith in them. + +He was utterly disgusted, indeed, with the turn which things were +taking. Nor was his disgust at any time greater than when he stood an +hour later and viewed the Countess and her escort marching out of the +camp. If his life since Coutras had been obscure and ignoble, at least +it had been safe. While his neighbours had suffered at the Captain of +Vlaye's hands, he had been favoured. He had sunk something of his +pride, and counted in return on an alliance for his daughter, solid if +not splendid. Now, by the act of this meddling Lieutenant--for he +ignored Vlaye's treatment both of his daughter and the Countess--all +was changed. He had naught to expect now but Vlaye's enmity; +Villeneuve would no longer be safe for him. He must go or he must +humble himself to the ground. He had taken, he had been forced by his +children to take, the wrong side in the struggle. And the time was +fast approaching when he must pay for it, and smartly. + + + + + CHAPTER XX. + + THE ABBESS MOVES. + + +That Bonne failed to read the dark scroll of her sister's thoughts +need not surprise us; since apart from the tie of blood the two women +had nothing in common. But that she failed also to interpret Roger's +inaction; that, blaming herself for an acquiescence which love made +inevitable, she did not spare him, whom love should have moved in the +opposite direction--this was more remarkable. For a closer bond never +united brother and sister. But misery is a grand engrosser. She had +her lover in her thoughts, the poor girl whom she sacrificed on her +mind; and she left the Duke's quarters without that last look at her +brother which might have enlightened her. + +Had she questioned him he had discovered his mind. She did not, and +she had barely passed from sight before he was outside and had got a +fresh horse saddled. One thing only it was prevented his leaving the +camp in advance of the Countess, whose people were not ready. His foot +was raised to the stirrup when he bethought him of this thing. He left +the horse in charge of a trooper and hurried back to the Duke's +quarters, found him alone and put his question. + +"You made a man fight the other night against his will," he said, his +head high. "Tell me, my lord, how I can do the same thing." + +The Duke stared, then laughed. "Is it that you want?" he answered. +"Tell me first whom it is you would fight, my lad?" + +"The Captain of Vlaye." + +"Ah?" + +"You said a while ago," Roger continued, his eyes sparkling, "that you +would presently make her a widow. Better a widow before she is wed, I +say!" + +The Duke smiled whimsically. "Sits the wind in that quarter?" he +answered. "You have no mind to see her wed at all, my lad? That is it, +is it? I had some notion of it." + +"Tell me how I can make him fight," Roger replied, sticking to his +question and refusing even to blush. + +"Tell me how I can get the moon!" Joyeuse answered, but not unkindly. +"Why should he risk his life to rid himself of you, who are no +drawback to him? Tell me that! Or why should he surrender the +advantage of his strong place and his four hundred spears to enter the +lists with a man who is naught to him?" + +"Because if he does not I will kill him where I find him!" Roger +replied with passion. And the mode of the day, which was not nice in +the punctilios of the duel, and forgave the most irregular assault if +it were successful, which cast small blame on Guise for the murder of +St. Pol, or on Montsoreau for the murder of Bussy, justified the +threat. "I will kill him!" he repeated. "Fair or foul, light or +dark----" + +"He shall not wed her!" the Duke cried in a mocking tone and with an +extravagant gesture. But in truth the raillery was on the surface +only. The lad's spirit touched the corresponding note in his own +nature. None the less he shook his head. "Brave words, brave words, +young man," he continued; "but you are not Vitaux, who counted his +life for nothing, and whose sword was a terror to all." + +"But if I count my life for nothing?" + +"Ay, if! If!" + +"And why should I not?" Roger retorted, his soul rising to his lips. +"Tell me, my lord, why should I count it for more? What am I, the son +of a poor gentleman, misshapen, rough, untutored, that I should hold +my life dear? That I should spare it, and save it, as a thing so +valuable? What have I in prospect of all the things other men look to? +Glory? See me! Fine I should be," with a bitter laugh covering tears, +"in a triumph, or marching up the aisle to a Te Deum! Court favour? +Ay, I might be the dwarf in a masque or the fool in motley! Naught +besides! Naught besides, my lord! And for love?" He laughed still more +bitterly. "I tell you my own father winces when he sees me! My own +sister and my own brother--well, they are blind perhaps. They, they +only, and old Solomon, and the woman who nursed me and dropped me--see +in me a man like other men. Leave them out, and, as I live, until this +man came----" + +"Des Ageaux?" + +"Des Ageaux--until he came and spoke gently to me and said, 'do this, +and do that, and you shall be as Gourdon or as Guesclin!'--even he +could not promise me love--as I live, till then no man pitied me or +gave me hope! And shall I let him die to save my stunted life?" + +"But it is not the saving him that is in question," the Duke replied +gently, and with respect in his tone. He was honestly moved by this +unveiling of poor Roger's thoughts. "She saved him." + +"And I'll save her," Roger replied with fervour. "I will save her +though I die a hundred deaths. For she, too----" + +He paused. The Duke looked at him, a spice of humour mingling with his +sympathy. "She, too, sees in you a man like other men," he said, "I +suppose?" + +"She pitied me," Roger answered. "No more; she pitied me, my lord! +What more could she do, being what she is? And I being what I am?" His +chin sank on his breast. + +The Duke nodded kindly. "May-be," he said. "Less likely things have +happened." And then, "But what will you do?" he asked. + +"Go with her and see him, take him aside, and if he will fight me, +well! And if he will not, I will strike him down where he stands!" + +"But that will not save des Ageaux." + +"No?" + +"No! On the contrary, it will be he," Joyeuse retorted somewhat +grimly, "who will pay for it. Do you not see that?" + +"Then I will wait," Roger replied, "until he is released." + +"And then," the Duke asked, still opposing, though the man and the +plan were alike after his own heart, "what of the Countess? M. de +Vlaye dead, who will protect her? His men----" + +"They would not dare!" Roger cried, trembling. "They would not dare!" + +"Well, perhaps not," the Duke answered, after a moment's thought. +"Perhaps not. Probably his lieutenant would protect her, for his own +sake. And des Ageaux free would be worth two hundred men to us. Not +that, if I were well, he would be in question. But I am but half a +man, and we need him!" + +"You shall have him," Roger answered, his eyes glittering. "Have no +doubt of it! But advise me, my lord. Were it better I escorted her to +the gate and sought entrance later, after he had released des Ageaux? +Or that I kept myself close until the time came?" + +"The time? For what?" + +The speaker was the Abbess. Unseen by the two men, she had that moment +glided across the threshold. The pallor of her features and the +brightness of her eyes were such as to strike both; but differently. +To the Duke these results of a night passed in vivid emotions, and of +a morning that had crowned her schemes with mockery, only brought her +into nearer keeping with the dress she wore--only enhanced her charms. +To her brother, on the other hand, who now hated Vlaye with a tenfold +hatred, they were grounds for suspicion--he knew not why. But not even +he came nearer to guessing the truth. Not even he dreamt that behind +that mask were passions at work which, had they discovered them, would +have cast the Duke into a stupor deeper than any into which his own +mad freaks had ever flung a wondering world. As it was, the Duke's +eyes saw only the perfection of womankind; the lily of the garden, +drooping, pale, under the woes of her frailer sisters. Of the jealousy +with which she contemplated the surrender of her rival to her lover's +power, much less of the step which that surrender was pressing upon +her, he caught no glimpse. + +"The time for what?" the Duke repeated, with looks courteous to the +point of reverence. "Ah--pardon, my sister, but we cannot take you +into our counsel. Men must sometimes do things it is not for saints to +know or women to witness." + +"Saints!" The involuntary irony of her tone must have penetrated ears +less dulled by prejudgment. "Saints!" and then, "I am no saint, my +lord," she said modestly. + +"Still," he answered, "it were better you did not know, mademoiselle. +It is but a plan by which we think it possible that we may yet get the +better of M. de Vlaye and save the child before--before, in fact----" + +"Ay?" the Abbess said, a flicker of pain in her eyes. "Before--I +understand." + +"Before it be too late." + +"Yes. And how?" + +The Duke shook his head with a smile meant to propitiate. "How?" he +repeated. "That--pardon me--that is the point upon which--we would +fain be silent." + +"Yet you must not be silent," she replied. "You must tell me." And +pale, almost stern, she looked from one to the other, dominating them. +"You must tell me," she repeated. "Or perhaps," fixing Roger with a +glance keen as steel, "I know already. You would save her by killing +him. It is of that you are thinking. It is for that your horse is +waiting saddled by the gate. You would ride after her, and gain access +to him--and----" + +"She has not started?" Roger exclaimed. + +"She started ten minutes ago," the Abbess answered coldly. "Nay, +stay!" For Roger was making for the door. "Stay, boy! Do you hear?" + +"I cannot stay!" + +"If you do not stay you will repent it all your life!" the Abbess made +answer in a voice that shook even his resolution. "And she all hers! +Ha! that stays you?" with a gleam of passion she could not restrain. +"I thought it would. Now, if you will listen, I have something to say +that will put another complexion on this." + +They gazed expectant, but she did not at once continue. She stood +reflecting deeply; while each of her listeners regarded her after his +knowledge of her; Roger sullenly and with suspicion, doubting what she +would be at, the Duke in admiration, expecting that with which gentle +wisdom might inspire her. + +Secretly she was heart-sick, and the sigh which she could not restrain +declared it. But at last, "There is no need of violence," she said +wearily. "No," addressing Roger, who had raised his hand in +remonstrance, "hear me out before you interrupt me. How will the loss +of a minute harm you? Or of five or ten? I repeat, there is no need of +violence. Heaven knows there has been enough! We must go another way +to work to release her. It is my turn now." + +"I would rather trust myself," Roger muttered; but so low that the +words, frank to rudeness, did not reach Joyeuse's ears. + +"Yet you must trust me," she answered. "Do so, trust me, and follow my +directions, and I will take on myself to say that before nightfall she +shall be free." + +"What are we to do?" the Duke asked. + +"You? Nothing. I, all. I must take her place, as she has taken M. des +Ageaux'." + +For an instant they were silent in sheer astonishment. Then, "But M. +de Vlaye may have something to say to that!" Roger ejaculated before +the Duke could find words. The lad spoke on impulse. He knew a little +and suspected more of the lengths to which Vlaye's courtship of his +sister had gone. + +If she had not put force on herself, she had flung him a retort that +must have opened the Duke's eyes. Instead, "I shall not consult M. de +Vlaye," she replied coldly. "I have visited him on various occasions, +and we are on terms. My appearance in Vlaye, seeing that the Abbey of +Vlaye is but a half-league from the town, will cause no surprise. Once +in the town, if I can enter the castle and gain speech of the +Countess, she may escape in my habit." + +"I hate this shifting and changing!" Roger grumbled. + +"But if it will save her?" + +"Ay, but will it?" Roger returned, shrugging his shoulders. He +suspected that her aim was to save M. de Vlaye rather than the +Countess. "Will it? Can you, in the first place, get speech of her?" + +"I think I can," the Abbess answered quietly. "Many of the men know +me. And I will take with me Father Benet, who is at the Captain of +Vlaye's beck and call. He will serve me within limits, if a friend be +needed. I shall wear my robes, and though she is shorter and smaller I +see no reason why she should not pass out in them in the twilight or +after dark." + +"But what of you?" the Duke asked, staring much. + +"I shall remain in her place." + +"Remain in her place?" Joyeuse said slowly, in the voice he would have +used had Our Lady appeared before him. "You will dare that for her?" + +A faint colour stole into the Abbess's cheeks. "It is my expiation," +she murmured modestly. "I struck her--God forgive me!" + +"But----" + +"And I run no risk. M. de Vlaye knows me, and this"--with a gesture +which drew attention to her conventual garb--"will protect me." + +The Duke gazed at the object of his adoration in a kind of rapture, +seeing already the wings on her shoulders, the aureole about her head. +"Mademoiselle, you will do that?" he cried. "Then you are no woman! +You are an angel!" In his enthusiasm he knelt--not without difficulty, +for he was still weak--and kissed her hand. To him the thing seemed an +act of pure heroism, pure self-denial, pure good-doing. + +But Roger, who knew more of his sister's nature and past history, and +whose knowledge left less room for fancy's gilding, stood lost in +gloomy thought. What did she mean? Was she going as friend or enemy? +Influence with Vlaye she had, or lately had; but, the Countess +released, in what a position would she, his sister, stand? Could he, +could her father, could her friends let her do this thing? + +Yet the chance--to a lover--was too good to reject; the position, +moreover, was too desperate for niceties. The thought that she was +going, not for the sake of the Countess, but of the Captain of Vlaye, +the suspicion that she was not unwilling to take the Countess's place +and the Countess's risks, occurred to him. But he thrust, he strove to +thrust the suspicion and the thought from him. Her motive and her +meaning, even though that motive and meaning were to save the Captain +of Vlaye, were small things beside the Countess's safety. + +"At any rate I shall go with you," he said at length, and with more of +suspicion than of gratitude in his tone. "When will you be ready?" + +"I think it likely that he will have bidden Father Benet to be with +him at sunset," she answered. "If we are at the priest's, therefore, +an hour earlier, it should do." + +"And for safe-conduct?" + +"I will answer for that," she replied with boldness, "so far as M. de +Vlaye's men are concerned." + +The answer chafed Roger anew. Her reliance on her influence with Vlaye +and Vlaye's people--he hated it; and for an instant he hesitated. But +in the end he swallowed his vexation: had he not made up his mind to +shut his eyes? And the three separated after a few more words relating +to the arrangements to be made. The Duke, standing with a full heart +in the doorway, watched her to her quarters, marked the grace of her +movements, and in his mind doomed the Captain of Vlaye to unspeakable +deaths if he harmed her; while she, as she passed away, thought--but +we need not enter into her thoughts. She was doing this, lest a worse +thing happen; doing it in a passion of jealousy, in a frenzy of +disgust. But she had one consolation. She would see the Captain of +Vlaye! She would see the man she loved. Through the dark stuff of her +thoughts that prospect ran like a golden thread. + +Roger, on the other hand, should have been content. He should have +been more than satisfied, as an hour later he rode beside her down the +river valley to the chapel beside the ford, and thence to the open +country about Villeneuve. For if things were still dark, there was a +prospect of light. A few hours earlier he had despaired; he had seen +no means of saving the woman he adored, save at the expense of his own +life. Now he had hope and a chance, now he had prospects, now he might +look, if fortune favoured him, to be her escort into safety before the +sun rose again. + +Surely, then, he should have been content; yet he was not. Not even +when after a journey of four hours the two, having passed Villeneuve, +gained without misadventure the summit of that hill on the scarped +side of which the Countess had met with her first misfortune. From +that point, they and the two armed servants who followed them could +look down upon the wide green valley that framed the town of Vlaye, +and that, somewhat lower, opened into the wide plain of the Dronne. +They could discern the bridge over the river; they could almost count +the red roofs of the small town that crept up from the water to the +coronet of grey walls and towers that crowned all. Those walls and +towers basking in the sunshine were the eyrie that lorded it over +leagues of country seen and unseen--the hawk's nest, the _plebis +flagellum_, as the old chronicler has it. They might, in sight of +those towers, count the preliminaries over and all but the supreme +risk run. + +For quite easily they might have fallen in with Vlaye's people on the +road and been taken; or with M. de Vlaye himself, and with that there +had been an end of the plan. But they had escaped these dangers. And +yet Roger was not content; still he rode with a gloomy brow and +pinched lips. The longer he thought of his sister's plan, the more he +suspected and the less he liked it. There was in it a little which he +did not understand, and more which he understood too well. His sister +and M. de Vlaye! He hated the collocation; he hated to think that she +must be left, willingly and by her own act, in the adventurer's power; +and this at a moment when disappointment would aggravate a temper +tried by the attack on him and by the part which the Vicomte had +played in it. On what did she depend for her safety, for her honour, +for all that she put wantonly at stake? On his respect? His +friendship? Or his love? + +"I will take her place," she had said. Could it be that she was +willing, that she desired, to take it altogether? Was she, after the +rebuffs, after the scornful and contumelious slight which M. de Vlaye +had put upon her, willing still to seek him, willing still to be in +his power? + +It seemed so. Certainly it could not be denied that she was seeking +him, and that he, her brother, was escorting her. In that light people +would look upon his action. + +The thought stung him, and he halted midway on the woodland track that +descended the farther side of the hill. His face wore a mixture of +shame and appeal--with ill-humour underlying both. "See here, Odette," +he said abruptly, "I do not see the end of this." + +Though she raised her eyebrows contemptuously, a faint tinge of colour +crept into her face. + +"I thought," she replied, "that the end was to save this little fool +who is too weak to save herself!" + +"But you?" + +"Oh, for me?" contemptuously. "Take no heed of me. I am of other +stuff, and can manage my own affairs." + +"You think so," he retorted. "But the Captain of Vlaye, he, too, is of +other stuff." + +"Do you fancy I am afraid of M. de Vlaye?" she answered. And her eyes +flashed scorn on him. "You may be! You should be!" with a glance which +marked his deformity and stabbed the sense of it deep into his heart. +"How should you be otherwise, seeing that in no circumstances could +you be a match for him! But I? I say again that I am of other stuff." + +"All the same," he muttered darkly, "I would not go on----" + +"Would not go on?" she retorted in mockery. "Not with your sweet +Countess in danger? Not with the dear light of your eyes in Vlaye's +arms? Not go on? Oh, brave lover! Oh, brave man! Not go on, and your +Countess, your pretty Countess----" + +"Be silent!" he cried. She stung him to rage. + +"Ah! We go back then?" + +But he could not face that, he could not say yes to that; and, +defeated, he turned in dumb sullen anger and resumed the road. + +Necessarily the danger of arrest increased as they approached the +town. The last mile, which brought them to the bridge over the river, +was traversed under the eyes of the castle; it would not have +surprised Roger had they been met and stopped long before they came to +the town gate. But the Captain of Vlaye, it seemed, held the danger +still remote, and troubled his followers with few precautions. The +place lay drowsing in the late heat of the summer afternoon. It was +still as the dead, and though their approach was doubtless seen and +noted, no one issued forth or challenged them. Even the men who +lounged in the shade of the low-browed archway--that still bore the +scutcheon of its ancient lords--contented themselves with a long stare +and a sulky salute. The bridge passed, a narrow street paved and +steep, and overhung by ancient houses of brick and timber, opened +before them. It led upwards in the direction of the castle, but after +pursuing it in single file some fifty paces, the Abbess turned from it +into a narrow lane that brought them in a bow-shot--for the town was +very small--to the wall again. This was their present destination. For +crowded into an angle of the wall under the shadow of one of the old +brick watch-towers stood the chapel and cell that owned the lax rule +of M. de Vlaye's chaplain, Father Benet. + + + + + CHAPTER XXI. + + THE CASTLE OF VLAYE. + + +Roger had little faith in the priest's power, and less in his +willingness to aid them. But at worst he was not to be kept in +suspense. By good luck, Father Benet was walking at the moment of +their arrival in his potherb garden. As they dismounted, they espied +the Father peeping at them between the tall sunflowers and budding +hollyhocks; his ruddy face something dismayed and fallen, and his mien +that of a portly man caught in the act of wrong-doing. Finding himself +detected, he came forward with an awkward show of joviality. + +"Welcome, sister," he said. "There is naught the matter at the Abbey, +I trust, that I see you thus late in the day?" + +"No, the matter is here," the Abbess replied, with a look in her eyes +that told him she knew all. "And we are here to see about it. Let us +in, Father. The time is short, for at any moment your master"--she +indicated the castle by a gesture--"may hear of our arrival and send +for us." + +"I am sure," the priest answered glibly, "that anything that I can do +for you, sister----" + +She cut him short. "No words, no words, but let us in!" she said +sharply. And when with pursed lips and a shrug of resignation he had +complied, and they stood in the cool stone-floored room--communicating +by an open door with the chapel--in which he received his visitors, +she came with the same abruptness to the point. + +"At what hour are you going up to the castle?" she asked. + +He tried to avoid her eyes. "To the castle?" he repeated. + +"Ay," she said, watching him keenly. "To the castle. Are there more +castles than one? Or first, when were you there last, Father?" + +His look wandered, full of calculation. "Last?" he said. "When was I +at the castle last?" + +"The truth! The truth!" she cried impatiently. + +He chid her, but with a propitiatory smile akin to those which the +augurs exchanged. "Sister! Sister!" he said. "_Nil nisi verum +clericus!_ I was there no more than an hour back." + +"And got your orders? And got your orders, I suppose?" she repeated +with rude insistence. "Out with it, Father. I see that you are no more +easy than I am!" + +He flung out his hands in sudden abandonment. "God knows I am not!" he +said. "God knows I am not! And that is the truth, and I am not hiding +it. God knows I am not! But what am I to do? He is a violent man--you +know him!--and I am a man of peace. I must do his will or go. And I am +better than nothing! I may"--there was a whine in his voice--"I may do +some good still. You know that, sister. I may do some good. I baptise. +I bury. But if I go, there is no one." + +"And if you go, you are no one," she answered keenly. "For your +suffragan has you in no good favour, I am told. So that if you go you +happen on but a sackcloth welcome. So it is said, Father. I know not +if it be said truly." + +"Untruly! Untruly!" he protested earnestly. "He has never found fault +with me, sister, on good occasion. But I have enemies, all men have +enemies----" + +"You are like to make more," Roger struck in, with a dark look. + +The priest wrung his hands. "I know! I know!" he said. "He carries it +too highly. Too highly! They say that he has caught the King's +governor now, and has him in keeping there." + +"It is true." + +"Well, I have warned him; he cannot say I have not!" + +"And what said he to your warning?" the Abbess asked with a sneer. + +"He threatened me with the stirrup leathers." + +"And you are now to marry him?" + +He turned a shade paler. "You know it?" he gasped. + +"I know it, but not the time," she answered. And as he hesitated, +silent and appalled, "Come," she continued, "the truth, Father. And +then I will tell you what I am going to do." + +"At sunset," he muttered, "I am to be there." + +"Good," she said. "Now we know. Then you will go up an hour earlier. +And I shall go with you." + +He protested feebly. He knew something of that which had gone before, +something of her history, something of her passion for the Captain of +Vlaye; and he was sure that she was not bent on good. "I dare not!" he +said, "I dare not, sister! You ask too much." + +"Dare not what?" the Abbess retorted, bending her handsome brows in +wrath. "Dare not go one hour earlier?" + +"But you--you want to go?" + +"If I go with you, what is that to you?" + +"But----" + +"But what, Father, but what?" + +"You want something of me?" he faltered. He was not to be deceived. +"Something dangerous, I know it!" + +"I want your company to the door of the room where she lies," the +Abbess replied. "That is all. You have leave to visit her? Do +not"--overwhelming him with swift fierce words--"deny it. Do not tell +me that you have not! Think you I do not know you, Father? Think you +I do not know how well you are with him, how late you sit with him, +how deep you drink with him, when he lacks better company? And that +this--though you are frightened now, and would fain be clear of it, +knowing who she is--is the thing which you have vowed to do for him a +hundred times and a hundred times to that, if it would help him!" + +"Never! Never!" he protested, paler than before. + +"Father," she retorted, stooping forward and speaking low, "be warned. +Be warned! Get you a foot in the other camp while you may! You are +over-well fed for the dry crust and the sack bed of the bishop's +prison! You drink too much red wine to take kindly to the moat puddle! +And that not for months, but for years and years! Have you not heard +of men who lay forgotten, ay, forgotten even by their gaoler at last, +until they starved in the bishop's prison? The bishop's prison, +Father!" she continued cruelly. "Who comes out thence, but the rats, +and they fat? Who comes out thence----" + +"Don't! Don't!" the priest cried, his complexion mottled, his flabby +cheeks trembling with fear of the thing which her words called up, +with fear of the thing that had often kept him quaking in the night +hours. "You will not do it?" + +"I?" she answered drily. "No, not I perhaps. But is a Countess of +Rochechouart to be abducted so lightly, or so easily? Has she so few +friends? So poor a kindred? A cousin there is, I think--my lord Bishop +of Comminges--who has one of those very prisons. And, if I mistake +not, she has another cousin, who is in Flanders now, but will know +well how to avenge her when he returns." + +"What is it you want me to do?" he faltered. + +"Go with me to her door--that I may gain admission. Then, whether you +go to him or not, your silence, for one half-hour." + +"You will not do her any harm?" he muttered. + +"Fool, it is to do her good I am here." + +"And that is all? You swear it?" + +"That is all." + +He heaved a deep sigh. "I will do it," he said. He wiped his brow with +the sleeve of his cassock. "I will do it." + +"You are wise," she replied, "and wise in time, Father, for it is time +we went. The sun is within an hour of setting." Then, turning to +Roger, who had never ceased to watch the priest as a cat watches a +mouse, "The horses may wait in the lane or where you please," she +said. "They are hidden from the castle where they stand, and perhaps +they are best there. In any case"--with a meaning glance--"I return to +this spot. Expect me in half an hour. After that, the rest is for you +to contrive. I wash my hands of it." + +The words in which he would have assented stuck in the lad's throat. +He could not speak. She turned again to the priest. "One moment and I +am ready," she said. "Have you a mirror?" + +"A mirror?" he exclaimed in astonishment. + +"But of course you have not," she replied. She looked about her an +instant, then with a quick step she passed through the doorway into +the chapel. There her eye had caught a polished sheet of brass, +recording in monkish Latin the virtues of that member of the old +family who had founded this "Capella extra muros," as ancient deeds +style it. She placed herself before the tablet, and paying as little +heed to her brother or the priest--though they were within sight--as +to the sacred emblems about her, or the scene in which she stood, she +cast back her hood, and drew from her robes a small ivory case. From +this she took a morsel of sponge, and a tiny comb, also of ivory; and +with water taken from the stoup beside the door, she refreshed her +face, and carefully recurled the short ringlets upon her forehead. +With a pencil drawn from the same case, she retouched her eyelashes +and the corners of her eyes, and with deft fingers she straightened +and smoothed the small ruff about her neck. Finally, with no less +care, she drew the hood of her habit close round her face, and after +turning herself about a time or two before the mirror went back to the +others. They had not taken their eyes off her. + +"Come," she said. And she led the way out without a second word, +passed by the waiting horses and the servants, and, attended by the +reluctant Father, walked at a gentle pace along the lane towards the +main street. + +The priest went in fear, his stout legs trembling under him. But until +the two reached a triangular open space, graced by an Italian +fountain, and used, though it sloped steeply, for a market site, the +street they pursued was not exposed to view from the castle. Above the +marketplace, however, the road turned abruptly to the left, and, +emerging from the houses, ascended between twin mounds, of which the +nearer bore the castle, and the other, used on occasion as a +tilt-yard, was bare. The road ascended the gorge between the two, then +wound about, this time to the right, and gained the summit of the +unoccupied breast; whence, leaping its own course by a drawbridge, it +entered the grey stronghold that on every other side looked down from +the brow of a precipice--here on the clustering roofs of the town, and +there, and there again, on the wide green vale and silvery meanders of +the Dronne. + +Looking to the south, where the valley opened into a plain, the eye +might almost discern Coutras--that famous battlefield that lies on the +Dronne bank. Northward it encountered the wooded hills beyond which +lay Villeneuve, and the town of Barbesieux on the great north road, +and the plain towards Angouleme. Fairer eyrie, or stronger, is scarce +to be found in the width of three provinces. + +Until they came to the market-place the Abbess and her unwilling +companion had little to fear unless they met M. de Vlaye himself. As +far as others were concerned, Father Benet's coarse, plump face, +albeit less ruddy than ordinary, was warrant enough to avert both +suspicion and inquiry. But thence onwards they walked in full view not +only of the lounge upon the ramparts which the Captain of Vlaye most +affected at the cool hour, but of a dozen lofty casements from any one +of which an officious sentry or a servant might mark their approach +and pass word of it. Father Benet pursued this path as one under fire. +The sun was low, but at its midday height it had not burned the stout +priest more than the fancied fury of those eyes. The sweat poured down +his face as he climbed and panted and crossed himself in a breath. + +"Believe me, you are better here than in the bishop's prison," his +companion said, to cheer him. + +"But he will see us from the ramparts," he groaned, not daring to look +up and disprove the fact. "He will see us! He will meet us at the +gate." + +"Then it will be my affair," the Abbess answered. + +"We are mad--stark, staring mad!" he protested. + +"You were madder to go back," she said. + +He looked at her viciously, as if he wished her dead. Fortunately they +had reached the narrow defile under the bridge, and a feverish longing +to come to an end of the venture took place of all other feelings in +the priest's breast. Doggedly he panted up the Tilt Mound, as it was +called, and passed three or four groups of troopers, who were taking +the air on their backs or playing at games of chance. Thence they +crossed the drawbridge. The iron-studded doors, with their clumsy +grilles, above which the arms of the old family still showed their +quarterings, stood open; but in the depths of the low-browed archway, +where the shadows were beginning to gather, lounged a dozen rogues +whose insolent eyes the Abbess must confront. + +But she judged, and rightly, that the priest's company would make that +easy which she could not have compassed so well alone, though she +might have won entrance. The men, indeed, were surprised to see her, +and stared; some recognised her with respect, others with grins +half-knowing, half-insolent. But no one stepped forward or volunteered +to challenge her entrance. And although a wit, as soon as her back was +turned, hummed + + + "Je suis amoureuse, + Malheureuse, + J'ai perdu mon galant!" + + +and another muttered, "Oh, la, la, the bridesmaid!" with a wink at his +fellows, they were soon clear of the gate and the starers, and +crossing the wide paved court, that, bathed in quiet light, was +pervaded none the less by an air of subdued expectation. Here a man +cleaned a horse or his harness, there a group chatted on the curb of +the well; here a white-capped cook showed himself, and there, beside +the entrance, a couple teased the brown bear that inhabited the stone +kennel, and on high days made sport for the Captain of Vlaye's dogs. + +Vlaye's quarters and those of his household and officers lay in the +wing on the left, which overlooked the town; his men were barracked +and the horses stabled in the opposite wing. The fourth side, facing +the entrance, was open, but was occupied by a garden raised two steps +above the court and separated from it, first by a tall railing of +curiously wrought iron, and secondly by a row of clipped limes, whose +level wall of foliage hid the pleasaunce from the come-and-go of the +vulgar. + +The Abbess knew the place intimately, and she felt no surprise when +the Father, in place of making for the common doorway on the left, +which led into M. de Vlaye's wing, bore across the open to the +floriated iron gates of the garden. He passed through these and turned +to the left along the cool green lime walk, which was still musical +with the hum of belated bees. + +"She is in the demoiselles' wing then?" the Abbess murmured. She had +occupied those rooms herself on more than one occasion. They opened by +a door on the garden and enjoyed a fair and airy outlook over the +Dronne. As she recalled them and the memories they summoned up her +features worked. + +"Where else should she be--short of this evening?" Father Benet +answered, with full knowledge of the sting he inflicted. Her secret +was no secret from him. "But I need come no farther," he added, +pausing awkwardly. + +"To the door," she answered firmly. "To the door! That is the +bargain." + +"Well, we are there," he said, halting when he had taken another dozen +paces, which brought them to the door in the garden end of the left +wing. "Now, I will retire by your leave, sister." + +"Knock!" + +He complied with a faltering hand, and the moment he had done so he +turned to flee, as if the sound terrified him. But with an unexpected +movement she seized his wrist in her strong grasp, and though he +stammered a remonstrance, and even resisted her weakly, she held him +until the opening door surprised them. + +A grim-faced woman looked out at them. "To see the Countess," the +Abbess muttered. Then to the priest, as she released him, "I shall not +be more than ten minutes, Father," she continued. "You will wait for +me, perhaps. Until then!" + +She nodded to him after a careless, easy fashion, and the door closed +on her. In the half-light of the passage within, which faded tapestry +and a stand of arms relieved from utter bareness, the woman who had +admitted her faced her sourly. "You have my lord's leave?" she asked +suspiciously. + +"Should I be here without it?" the Abbess retorted in her proudest +manner. "Be speedy, and let me to her. My lord will not be best +pleased if the priest be kept waiting." + +"No great matter that," the woman muttered rebelliously. But having +said it she led the visitor up the stairs and ushered her into the +well-remembered room. It was a spacious, pleasant chamber, with a view +of the garden, and beyond the garden of the widening valley spread far +beneath. Nothing of the prison-house hung about it, nor was it bare or +coldly furnished. + +The woman did not enter with her, but the gain was not much. For the +Abbess had no sooner crossed the threshold than she discovered a +second gaoler. This was a young waiting-woman, who, perched on a stool +within the door, sat eyeing her prisoner with something of pity and +more of ill-humour. The little Countess, indeed, was a pitiful sight. +She lay, half-crouching, half-huddled together, in the recess of the +farther window, on the seat of which she hid her face in the +abandonment of despair. Her loosened hair flowed dishevelled upon her +neck and shoulders; and from minute to minute a dry, painful sob--for +she was not weeping--shook the poor child from head to foot. + +The Abbess, after one keen glance, which took in every particular, +from the waiting-woman's expression to the attitude of the captive, +nodded to the attendant. Then for a moment she did not speak. At last, +"She takes it ill?" she muttered under her breath. + +The other slightly shrugged her shoulders. "She has been like that +since he left her," she whispered. Whether the words and the movement +expressed more pity, or more contempt, or more envy, it was hard to +determine; for all seemed to meet in them. "She could not take it +worse." + +"I am here to mend that," the Abbess rejoined. And she moved a short +way into the room. But there she came to a stand. Her eyes had fallen +on a pile of laces and dainty fabrics arranged upon one of the seats +of the nearer window. Her face underwent a sudden change; she seemed +about to speak, but the words stuck in her throat. At last "Those are +for her?" she said. + +"Ay, but God knows how I am to get them on," the girl answered in a +low tone. "She is such a baby! But there it is! Whatever she is now, +she'll be mistress to-morrow, and I--I am loath to use force." + +"I will contrive it," the Abbess replied, a light in her averted eyes. +"Do you leave us. Come back in a quarter of an hour, and if I have +succeeded take no notice. Take no heed, do you hear," she continued, +turning to the girl, "if you find her dressed. Say nothing to her, but +let her be until she is sent for." + +"I am only too glad to let her be." + +"That is enough," the Abbess rejoined sternly. "You can go now. +Already the time is short for what I have to do." + +"You will find it too short, my lady, unless I am mistaken," the +waiting-woman answered under her breath. But she went. She was glad to +escape; glad to get rid of the difficulty. And she went without +suspicion. How the other came to be there, or how her interest lay in +arraying this child for a marriage with her lover--these were +questions which the girl proposed to put to her gossips at a proper +opportunity; for they were puzzling questions. But that the Abbess was +there without leave--the Abbess who not a month before had been +frequently in Vlaye's company, hawking and hunting, and even +supping--to the scandal of the convent, albeit no strait-laced one nor +unwont to make allowance for its noble mistresses--that the Abbess was +there without the knowledge of her master she never suspected. It +never for an instant entered the woman's mind. + +Meanwhile Odette, the moment the door closed on the other, took +action. Before the latch ceased to rattle her hand was on the +Countess's shoulder, her voice was in her ear. "Up, girl, if you wish +to be saved!" she hissed. "Up, and not a word!" + +The Countess sprang up--startled simultaneously by hand and voice. But +once on her feet she recoiled. She stood breathing hard, her hands +raised to ward the other off. "You?" she cried. "You here?" And +shaking her head as if she thought she dreamed, she retreated another +step. Her distrust of the Abbess was apparent in every line of her +figure. + +"Yes, it is I," Odette answered roughly. "It is I." + +"But why? Why are you here? Why you?" + +"To save you, girl," the Abbess answered. "To save you--do you hear? +But every moment is of value. Hold your tongue, ask no questions, do +as I tell you, and all may be well. Hesitate, and it will be too late. +See, the sun still shines on the head of that tall tree! Before it +leaves that tree you must be away from here. Is it true that he weds +you to-night?" + +The other uttered a cry of despair. "And for naught!" she said. "Do +you understand, for naught! He has not let him go! He lied to us! He +has not released him! He holds me, but he will not release him." + +"And he will not!" the Abbess replied, with something like a jeer. +"So, if you would not give all for naught, listen to me! Put some +wrapping about your shoulders, and a kerchief on your head to heighten +you, and over these my robes and hood. And be speedy! On your feet +these"--with a rapid movement she drew from some hiding-place in her +garments a pair of thick-soled shoes. "Hold yourself up, be bold, and +you may pass out in my place." + +"In your place?" the girl stammered, staring in astonishment. + +The Abbess had scant patience with her rival's obtuseness. "That is +what I said," she replied, with a look that was not pleasant in her +eyes. + +The Countess saw the look, and, fearful and doubting, hung back. She +could not yet grasp the position. "But you!" she murmured. "What of +you?" + +"What is that to you?" + +"But----" + +"Fear nothing for me!" the Abbess cried vehemently. "Think only of +yourself! Think only of your own safety. I"--with scorn--"am no weak +thing to suffer and make no cry. I can take care of myself. But, +there"--impatiently--"we have lost five minutes! Are you going to do +this or not? Are you going to stay here, or are you going to escape?" + +"Oh, escape! Escape, if it be possible!" the Countess answered, +shuddering. "Anywhere, from him!" + +"You are certain?" + +"Oh, yes, yes! But it is not possible! He is too clever." + +"We will see if that be so," the Abbess answered, smiling grimly. And +taking the matter into her own hands, she began to strip off her robe +and hood. + +That decided the girl. Gladly would she have learned how the other +came to be there, and why and to what she trusted. Gladly would she +have asked other things. But the prospect of escape--of escape from a +fate which she dreaded the more the nearer she saw it--took reality in +view of the Abbess's actions. And she, too, began. Escape? Was it +possible? Was it possible to escape? With shaking fingers she snatched +up a short cloak, and wrapped it about her shoulders and figure, tying +it this way and that. She made in the same way a turban of a kerchief, +and stood ready to clothe herself. By this time the Abbess's outer +garments lay on the floor, and in three or four minutes the travesty, +as far as the younger woman was concerned, was effected. + +Meantime, while they both wrought, and especially while the Countess, +stooping, stuffed the large shoes and fitted them and buckled them on, +the Abbess never ceased explaining the remainder of the plan. + +"Go down the stairs," she said, "and if you have to speak mutter but a +word. Outside the door, turn to the right until you come to the gate +in the iron railing. Pass through it, cross the court, and go out +through the great gate, speaking to no one. Then follow the road, +which makes a loop to the left and passes under itself. Descend by it +to the market-place, and then to the right until you see the town gate +fifty paces before you. At that point take the lane on the left, and a +score of yards will show you the horses waiting for you, and with them +a friend. You understand? Then I will repeat it." + +And she did so from point to point in such a way and so clearly that +the other, distracted as she was, could not but learn the lesson. + +"And now," the Abbess said, when all was told, "give me something +to put on." Her beautiful arms and shoulders were bare. +"Something--anything," she continued, looking about her impatiently. +"Only be quick! Be quick, girl!" + +"There is only this," the Countess answered, producing her heavy +riding-cloak. "Unless"--doubtfully--"you will put on those." She +indicated the little pile of wedding-clothes, of dainty silk and lace +and lawn, that lay upon the window-seat. + +"Those!" the Abbess exclaimed. And she looked at the pile as at a +snake. "No, not those! Not those! Why do you want me to put on those? +Why should I?" with a suspicious look at the other's face. + +"If you will not----" + +"Will not?"--violently. "No, I will not. And why do you ask me? But I +prate as badly as you, and we lose time. Are you ready now? Let me +look at you." And feverishly, while she kicked off her own shoes +and donned the riding-cloak and drew its hood over her head, she +turned the Countess about to assure herself that the disguise was +tolerable--in a bad light. + +Then, "You will do," she said roughly, and she pushed the girl from +her. "Go now. You know what you have to do." + +"But you?" the little Countess ventured. Words of gratitude were +trembling on her lips; there were tears in her eyes. "You--what will +you do?" + +"You need not trouble about me," the Abbess retorted. "Play your part +well; that is all I ask." + +"At least," the Countess faltered, "let me thank you." She would have +flung her arms round the other's neck. + +But the Abbess backed from her. "Go, silly fool!" she cried savagely, +"unless, after all, you repent and want to keep him." + +The insult gave the needed fillip to the other's courage. She turned +on her heel, opened the door with a firm hand, and, closing it behind +her, descended the stairs. The waiting-maid and the grim-faced woman +were talking in the passage, but they ceased their gossip on her +appearance, and turned their eyes on her. Fortunately the place was +ill-lit and full of shadows, and the Countess had the presence of mind +to go steadily down to them without word or sign. + +"I hope mademoiselle has succeeded," the waiting-woman murmured +respectfully. "It is not a business I favour, I am sure." + +The Countess shrugged her shoulders--despair giving her courage--and +the grim-faced woman moved to the door, unlocked it, and held it wide. +The escaping one acknowledged the act by a slight nod, and, passing +out, she turned to the right. She walked, giddily and uncertainly, to +the open gate in the railing, and then, with some difficulty--for the +shoes were too large for her--she descended the two steps to the +court. She began to cross the open, and a man here and there, raising +his head from his occupation, turned to watch her. + + + + + CHAPTER XXII. + + A NIGHT BY THE RIVER. + + +The Countess knew that her knees were shaking under her. The gaze, +too, of the men who watched was dreadful to her. She felt her feet +slipping from the shoes; she felt the kerchief, that, twined in her +hair, gave her height, shift with the movement; she felt her limbs +yielding. And she despaired. She was certain that she could not pass; +she must faint, she must fall. Then the scornful words of the woman +she had left recurred to her, stung her, whipped her courage once +more; and, before she was aware of it, she had reached the gateway. +She was conscious of a crowd of men about her, of all eyes fixed on +her, of a jeering voice that hummed: + + + "Amoureuse, + Malheureuse, + J'ai perdu mon gallant!" + + +and--and then she was beyond the gate! The cool air blowing in the +gorge between the two breasts fanned her burning cheeks--never breeze +more blessed!--and with hope, courage, confidence all in a moment +revived and active, she began to descend the winding road that led to +the town. + +There were men lounging on the road, singly or in groups, who stared +at her as she passed; some with thinly-veiled insolence, others in +pure curiosity. But they did not dare to address her; though they +thought, looking after her, that she bore herself oddly. And she came +unmolested to the spot where the road passed under the drawbridge. +Here for an instant sick fear shook her anew. Some of the men in the +gateway had come out to watch her pass below; she thought that they +came to call her back. But save for a muttered jeer and the voice of +the jester repeating slyly: + + + "Malheureuse, + Amoureuse, + A perdu son gallant!" + + +no one spoke; and as pace by pace her feet carried her from them, +carried her farther and farther, her courage returned, she breathed +again. She came at the foot of the descent, to the carved stone +fountain and the sloping market-place. She took, as ordered, the road +that fell away to the right, and in a twinkling she was hidden by the +turn from the purview of the castle. + +She ventured then--the town seemed to stifle her--to move more +quickly; as quickly as her clumsy shoes would let her move on stones +sloping and greasy. Here and there a person, struck by something in +her walk, turned to take a second glance at her; or a woman in a low +doorway bent curious eyes on her as she came and went. She could not +tell whether she bred suspicion in them or not, or whether she seemed +the same woman--but a trifle downcast--who had passed that way before. +For she dared not look back nor return their gaze. Her heart beat +quickly, and more quickly as the end drew near. Success that seemed +within her grasp impelled her at last almost to a run. And then--she +was round the corner in the side lane that had been indicated to her, +and she saw before her the horses and the men gathered before the +chapel gate. And Roger--yes, Roger himself, with a face that worked +strangely and words that joy stifled in his throat, was leading her to +a horse and lending his knee to mount her. And they were turning, and +moving back again into the street. + +"There is only the gate now," he muttered, "only the gate! Courage, +mademoiselle! Be steady!" + +And the gate proved no hindrance. Though not one moment of all she had +passed was more poignant, more full of choking fear, than that which +saw them move slowly through, under the gaze of the men on guard, who +seemed for just one second to be rising to question them. Then--the +open country! The open country with its air, its cool breezes, its +spacious evening light and its promise of safety. And quick on this +followed the delicious moment when they began to trot, slowly at first +and carelessly, that suspicion might not be awakened; and then more +swiftly, and more swiftly, urging the horses with sly kicks and +disguised spurrings until the first wood that hid them saw them +pounding forward at a gallop, with the Countess's robe flapping in the +wind, her kerchief fallen, her hair loosened. Two miles, three miles +flew by them; they topped the wooded hill that looked down on +Villeneuve. Then, midway in the descent on the farther side, they left +the path at a word from Roger, plunged into the scrub and rode at +risk--for it was dark--along a deer-trail with which he was familiar. +This brought them presently, by many windings and through thick brush, +to a spot where the brook was fordable. Thence, in silence, they +plodded and waded and jogged along damp woodland ways and through +watery lanes that attended the brook to its junction with the river. + +Here, at length, in the lowest bottom of the Villeneuve valley, they +halted. For the time they deemed themselves safe; since night had +fallen and hidden their tracks, and Vlaye, if he followed, would take +the ordinary road. It had grown so dark indeed, that until the moon +rose farther retreat was impossible; and though the river beside which +they stood was fordable at the cost of a wetting, Roger thought it +better to put off the attempt. One of the servants, the man at the +Countess's bridle, would have had him try now, and rest in the +increased security of the farther bank. But Roger demurred, for a +reason which he did not explain; and the party dismounted where they +were, in a darkness which scarcely permitted the hand to be seen +before the face. + +"The moon will be up in three hours," Roger said. "If we cannot flee +they cannot pursue. Mademoiselle," he continued, in a voice into which +he strove to throw a certain aloofness, "if you will give me your +hand," he felt for it, "there is a dry spot here. I will break down +these saplings and put a cloak over them, and you may get some sleep. +You will need it, for the moment the moon is up we must ride on." + +The snapping of alder boughs announced that he was preparing her +resting-place. She felt for the spot, but timidly, and he had to take +her hand again and place her in it. + +"I fear it is rough," he said, "but it is the best we can do. For +food, alas, we have none." + +"I want none," she answered. And then hurriedly, "You are not going?" + +"Only a few yards." + +"Stay, if you please. I am frightened." + +"Be sure I will," he answered. "But we are in little danger here." + +He made a seat for himself not far from her, and he sat down. And if +she was frightened he was happy, though he could not see her. He was +in that stage of love when no familiarity has brought the idol too +near, no mark of favour has declared her human, no sign of preference +has fostered hope. He had done her, he was doing her a service; and +all his life it would be his to recall her as he had seen her during +their flight--battered, blown about, with streaming hair and draggled +clothes, the branches whipping colour into her cheeks, her small brown +hand struggling with her tangled locks. In such a stage of love to be +near is enough, and Roger asked no more. He forgot his sister's +position, he forgot des Ageaux' danger. Listening in the warm summer +night to the croaking of the frogs, he gazed unrebuked into the +darkness that held her, and he was content. + +Not that he had hope of her, or even in fancy thought of her as his. +But this moment was his, and while he lived he would possess the +recollection of it. All his life he would think of her, as the monk in +the cloister bears with him the image of her he loved in the world; or +as the maid remembers blamelessly the lover who died between betrothal +and wedding, and before one wry word or one divided thought had risen +to dim the fair mirror of her future. + +Alas, of all the dainty things in the world, too delicate in their +nature to be twice tasted, none is more evanescent than this first +worship; this reverence of the lover for her who seems rather angel +than woman, framed of a clay too heavenly for the coarse touch of +passion. + +Once before, in the hay-field, he had tried to save her, and he had +failed. This time--oh, he was happy when he thought of it--he would +save her. And he fell into a dream of a life--impossible in those +days, however it might have been in the times of Amadis of Gaul, or +Palmerin of England--devoted secretly to her service and her +happiness; a beautiful, melancholy dream of unrequited devotion, +attuned to the solemnity of the woodland night with its vast spaces, +its mysterious rustlings and gurgling waters. Those who knew Roger +best, and best appreciated his loyal nature, would have deemed him +sleepless for the Lieutenant's sake--whose life hung in the balance; +or tormented by thoughts of the Abbess's position. But love is of all +things the most selfish; and though Roger ground his teeth once and +again as Vlaye's breach of faith occurred to him, his thoughts were +quickly plunged anew in a sweet reverie, in which she had part. The +wind blew from her to him, and he fancied that some faint scent from +her loosened hair, some perfume of her clothing came to him. + +It was her voice that at last and abruptly dragged him from his dream. +"Are you not ashamed of me?" she whispered. + +"Ashamed?" he cried, leaping in his seat. + +"Once--twice, I have failed," she went on, her voice trembling a +little. "Always some one must take my place. Bonne first, and now your +other sister! I am a coward, Monsieur Roger. A coward!" + +"No!" he said firmly. "No!" + +"Yes, a coward. But you do not know," she continued in the tone of one +who pleaded, "how lonely I have been, and what I have suffered. I have +been tossed from hand to hand all my life, and mocked with great names +and great titles, and been with them all a puppet, a thing my family +valued because they could barter it away when the price was good--just +as they could a farm or a manor! I give orders, and sometimes they are +carried out, and sometimes not--as it suits," bitterly. "I am shown on +high days as Madonnas are shown, carried shoulder high through the +streets. And I am as far from everybody, as lonely, as friendless," +her voice broke a little, "as they! What wonder if I am a coward?" + +"You are tired," Roger answered, striving to control his voice, +striving also to control a mad desire to throw himself at her feet and +comfort her. "You will feel differently to-morrow. You have had no +food, mademoiselle." + +"You too?" in a voice of reproach. + +He did not understand her, and though he trembled he was silent. + +"You too treat me as a child," she continued. "You talk as if food +made up for friends and no one was lonely save when alone! Think what +it must be to be always alone, in a crowd! Bargained for by one, +snatched at by another, fawned on by a third, a prize for the boldest! +And not one--not one thinking of me!" pathetically. And then, as he +rose, "What is it?" + +"I think I hear some one moving," Roger faltered. "I will tell the +men!" And without waiting for her answer, he stumbled away. For, in +truth, he could listen no longer. If he listened longer, if he stayed, +he must speak! And she was a child, she did not know. She did not know +that she was tempting him, trying him, putting him to a test beyond +his strength. He stumbled away into the darkness, and steering for the +place where the horses were tethered he called the men by name. + +One answered sleepily that all was well. The other, who was resting, +snored. Roger, his face on fire, hesitated, not knowing what to do. To +bid the man who watched come nearer and keep the lady company would be +absurd, would be out of reason; and so it would be to bid him stand +guard over them while they talked. The man would think him mad. The +only alternative, if he would remove himself from temptation, was to +remain at a distance from her. And this he must do. + +He found, therefore, a seat a score of paces away, and he sat down, +his head between his hands. But his heart cried--cried pitifully that +he was losing moments that would never recur--moments on which he +would look back all his life with regret. And besides his heart, +other things spoke to him; the warm stillness of the summer night, +the low murmur of the water at his feet, the whispering breeze, the +wood-nymphs--ay, and the old song that recurred to his memory and +mocked him-- + + + "Je ris de moi, je ris de toi, + Je ris de ta sottise!" + + +Here, indeed, was his opportunity, here was such a chance as few men +had, and no man would let slip. But he was not as other men--there it +was. He was crook-backed, poor, unknown! And so thinking, so telling +himself, he fixed himself in his resolve, he strove to harden his +heart, he covered his ears with his hands. For she was a child, a +child! She did not understand! + +He would have played the hero perfectly but for one fatal thought that +presently came to him--a thought fatal to his rectitude. She would +take fright! Left alone, ignorant of the feeling that drove him from +her--what if she moved from the place where he had left her, and lost +herself in the wood, or fell into the river, or--and just then she +called him. + +"Monsieur Roger! Where are you?" + +He went back to her slowly, almost sullenly; partly in surrender to +his own impulse, partly in response to her call. But he did not again +sit down beside her. "Yes," he said. "You are quite safe, +mademoiselle. I shall not be out of earshot. You are quite safe." + +"Why did you go away?" + +"Away?" he faltered. + +"Are you afraid of me?" gently. + +"Afraid of you?" He tried to speak gaily. + +"Pray," she said in a queer, stiff tone, "do not repeat all my words. +I asked if you were afraid of me, Monsieur Roger?" + +"No," he faltered, "but--but I thought that you would rather be +alone." + +"I?" in a tone that went to poor Roger's heart. "I, who have told you +that I am always alone? Who have told you that I have not"--her voice +shook--"a friend--one real friend in the world!" + +"You are tired now," Roger faltered, finding no other words than those +he had used before. + +"Not one real friend!" she repeated piteously. "Not one!" + +He was not proof against that. He bent towards her in the +darkness--almost in spite of himself. "Yes, one," he said, in a voice +as unsteady as hers. "One you have, mademoiselle, who would die for +you and ask not a look in return! Who would set, and will ever set, +your honour and your happiness above the prizes of the world! Who asks +only to serve you at a distance, by day and dark, now and always! If +it be a comfort for you to know that you have a friend, know it! +Know----" + +"I do not know," she struck in, in a voice both incredulous and +ironical, "where I am to find such an one save in books! In the Seven +Champions or in Amadis of Gaul--perhaps. But in the world--where?" + +He was silent. He had said too much already. Too much, too much! + +"Where?" she repeated. + +Still he did not answer. + +Then, "Do you mean yourself, Monsieur Roger?" + +She spoke with a certain keenness of tone that was near to, ay, that +threatened offence. + +He stood, his hands hanging by his side. "Yes," he faltered. "But no +one knows better than myself that I cannot help you, mademoiselle. +That I can be no honour to you. For the Countess of Rochechouart to +have a crook-backed knight at the tail of her train--it may make some +laugh. It may make women laugh. Yet----" he paused on the word. + +"Yet what, sir?" + +"While he rides there," poor Roger whispered, "no man shall laugh." + +She was silent quite a long time, as if she had not heard him. Then, + +"Do you not know," she said, "that the Countess of Rochechouart can +have but one friend--her husband?" + +He winced. She was right; but if that was her feeling, why had she +complained of the lack of friends? + +"Only one friend, her husband," the Countess continued softly. "If you +would be that friend--but perhaps you would not, Roger? Still, if you +would, I say, you must be kind to her ever and gentle to her. You must +not leave her alone in woods on dark nights. You must not slight her. +You must not,"--she was half laughing, half crying, and hanging +towards him in the darkness, her childish hands held out in a gesture +of appeal, irresistible had he seen it--but it was dark, or she had +not dared--"you must not make anything too hard for her!" + +He stepped one pace from her, shaking. + +"I dare not! I dare not!" he said. + +"Not if I dare?" she retorted gently. "Not if I dare, who am a coward? +Are you a coward, too, that when you have said so much and I have said +so much you will still leave me alone and unprotected, and--and +friendless? Or is it that you do not love me?" + +"Not love you?" Roger cried, in a tone that betrayed more than a +volume of words had told. And beaten out of his last defence by that +shrewd dilemma, he threw his pride to the winds; he sank down beside +her, and seized her hands and carried them to his lips--lips that were +hot with the fever of sudden passion. "Not love you, mademoiselle? Not +love you?" + +"So eloquent!" she murmured, with a last flicker of irony. "He does +not even now say that he loves me. It is still his friendship, I +suppose, that he offers me." + +"Mademoiselle!" + +"Or is it that you think me a nun because I wear this dress?" + +He convinced her by means more eloquent than all the words lovers' +lips have framed that he did not so think her; that she was the heart +of his heart, the desire of his desire. Not that she needed to be +convinced. For when the delirium of his joy began to subside he +ventured to put a certain question to her--that question which happy +lovers never fail to put. + +"Do you think women are blind?" she answered. "Did you think I did not +see your big eyes following me in and out and up and down? That I did +not see your blush when I spoke to you and your black brow when I +walked with M. des Ageaux? Dear Roger, women are not so blind! I was +not so blind that I did not know as much before you spoke as I know +now." + +And in the dark of the wood they talked, while the water glinted +slowly by them and the frogs croaked among the waving weeds, and in +the stillness under the trees the warmth of the summer night and of +love wrapped them round. It was an hour between danger and danger, +made more precious by uncertainty. For the moment the world held for +each of them but one other person. The Lieutenant's peril, Bonne's +suspense, the Abbess--all were forgotten until the moon rose above the +trees and flung a chequered light on the dark moss and hart's-tongue +and harebells about the lovers' feet. And with a shock of +self-reproach the two rose to their feet. + +They gave to inaction not a moment after that. With difficulty and +some danger the river was forded by the pale light, and they resumed +their journey by devious ways until, mounting from the lower ground +that fringed the water, they gained the flank of the hills. Thence, +crossing one shoulder after another by paths known to Roger, they +reached the hill at the rear of the Old Crocans' town. In passing by +this and traversing the immediate neighbourhood of the peasants' camp +lay their greatest danger. But the dawn was now at hand, the moon was +fading; and in the cold, grey interval between dawn and daylight they +slipped by within sight of the squalid walls, and with the fear of +surprise on them approached the gate of the camp. Nor, though all went +well with them, did they breathe freely until the challenge of the +guard at the gate rang in their ears. + +After that there came with safety the sense of their selfishness. They +thought of poor Bonne, who, somewhere in the mist-wrapped basin before +them, lay waiting and listening and praying. How were they to face +her? with what heart tell her that her lover, that des Ageaux, still +lay in his enemy's power. True, Vlaye had gone back on his word, and, +in face of the Countess's surrender, had refused to release him; so +that they were not to blame. But would Bonne believe this? Would she +not rather set down the failure to the Countess's faint heart, to the +Countess's withdrawal? + +"I should not have come!" the girl cried, turning to Roger in great +distress. "I should not have come!" Her new happiness fell from her +like a garment, and, shivering, she hung back in the entrance and +wrung her hands. "I dare not face her!" she said. "I dare not, +indeed!" And, "Wait!" to the men who wished to hurry off and proclaim +their return. "Wait!" she said imperatively. + +The grey fog of the early morning, which had sheltered their approach +and still veiled the lower parts of the camp, seemed to add to the +hopelessness of the news they bore. Roger himself was silent, looking +at the waiting men, and wondering what must be done. Poor Bonne! He +had scarcely thought of her--yet what must she be feeling? What had he +himself felt a few hours before? + +"Some one must tell her," he said presently. "If you will not----" + +"I will! I will!" she answered, her lip beginning to tremble. + +Roger hesitated. "Perhaps she is sleeping," he said; "and then it were +a pity to rouse her." + +But the Countess shook her head in scorn of his ignorance. Bonne would +not be sleeping. Sleeping, when her lover had not returned! Sleeping, +at this hour of all hours, the hour M. de Vlaye had fixed for--for the +end! Sleeping, when at any moment news, the best or the worst, might +come! + +And Bonne was not sleeping. The words had scarcely passed Roger's lips +when she appeared, gliding out of the mist towards them, the Bat's +lank form at her elbow. Their appearance in company was, in truth, no +work of chance. Six or seven times already, braving the dark camp and +its possible dangers, she had gone to the entrance to inquire; and on +each occasion--so strong is a common affection--the Bat had appeared +as it were from the ground, and gone silently with her, learned in +silence that there was no news, and seen her in silence to her +quarters again. The previous afternoon she had got some rest. She had +lain some hours in the deep sleep of exhaustion; and longer in a heavy +doze, conscious of the dead weight of anxiety, yet resting in body. + +Save for this she had not had strength both to bear and watch. As it +was, deep shadows under her eyes told of the strain she was enduring; +and her face, though it had not lost its girlish contours, was white +and woeful. When she saw them standing together in the entrance a +glance told her that they bore ill news. Yet, to Roger's great +astonishment, she was quite calm. + +"He has not released him?" she said, a flicker of pain distorting her +face. + +The Countess clasped her hand in both her own, and with tears running +down her face shook her head. + +"He is not dead?" + +"No, no!" + +"Tell me." + +And they told her. "When I said 'You will release him?'" the Countess +explained, speaking with difficulty, "he--he--laughed. 'I did not +promise to release him,' he answered. 'I said if you did not accept my +hospitality, I should hang him!' That was all." + +"And now?" Bonne murmured. A pang once more flickered in her eyes. +"What of him now?" + +"I think," Roger said, "there is a hope. I do indeed." + +Bonne stood a moment silent. Then, in a voice so steady that it +surprised even the Bat, who had experience of her courage, "There is a +hope," she said, "if it be not too late. M. de Joyeuse, whose father's +life he would have saved--I will go to him! I will kneel to him! He +must save him. There must still be ways of saving him, and the Duke's +power is great." She turned to the Bat. "Take me to him," she said. + +He stooped his rugged beard to her hand, and kissed it with reverence. +Then, while the others stood astonished at her firmness, he passed +with her into the mist in the direction of the Duke's hut. + + + + + CHAPTER XXIII + + THE BRIDE'S DOT. + + +The Abbess left alone in the garden-chamber listened intently; looking +now on the door which had closed on her rival, now on the windows, +whence it was just possible that she might catch the flutter of the +girl's flying skirts. But she did not move to the windows, nor make +any attempt to look down. She knew that her ears were her best +sentinels; and motionless, scarcely breathing, in the middle of the +floor, she strained them to the utmost to catch the first sounds of +discovery and alarm. + +None reached her, and after the lapse of a minute she breathed more +freely. On the other hand, the waiting-maid--glad to prolong her +freedom--did not return. The Abbess, still listening, still intent, +fell to considering, without moving from the spot, other things. The +light was beginning to wane in the room--the room she remembered so +well--the corners were growing shadowy. All things promised to favour +and prolong her disguise. Between the inset windows lay a block of +deep gloom; she had only to fling herself down in that place and hide +her face on her arms, as the Countess, in her abandonment, had hidden +hers, and the woman would discover nothing when she entered--nothing +until she took courage to disturb the bride--and would dress her. + +The bride? Even in the last minute the room had grown darker--dark and +vague as her sombre thoughts. But it happened that amid its shadows +one object still gleamed white--a tiny oasis of brightness in a desert +of gloom. The pile of dainty bride-clothes, lawn and lace, that lay on +the window-seat caught and gave back what light there was. It seemed +to concentrate on itself all that remained of the day. Presently she +could not take her eyes from the things. They had at first repelled +her. Now, and more powerfully, they fascinated her. She dreamed, with +her gaze fixed on them; and slowly the colour mounted to her brow, +her face softened, her breast heaved. She took a step towards the +bride-clothes and the window, paused, hesitated; and, flushed and +frowning, looked at the door. + +But no one moved outside, no footstep threatened entrance; and +her eyes returned to the lace and lawn, emblems of a thing that +from Eve's day to ours has stirred women's hearts. She was not +over-superstitious. But it could not be for nothing, a voice whispered +her it could not be for nothing that the things lay there and, while +night swallowed all besides, still shone resplendent in the gloaming. +Were they not only an emblem, but a token? A sign to her, a finger +pointing through the vagueness of her future to the clear path of +safety? + +The Abbess had thought of that path, that way out of her difficulties, +not once only, nor twice. It had lain too open, too plain to be +missed. But she had marked it only to shrink from it as too dangerous, +too bold even for her. Were she to take it she must come into fatal +collision, into irremediable relations with the man whom she loved; +but whom others feared, and of whom his little world stood in an awe +so dire and so significant. + +Yet still the things beckoned her; and omens in those days went for +more than in these. Things still done in sport or out of a sentimental +affection for the past--on All-hallows' E'en or at the new moon--were +then done seriously, their lessons taken to heart, their dictates +followed. The Abbess felt her heart beat high. She trembled and shook +on the verge of a great resolve. + +Had she time? The cloak slipped a little lower, discovering her bare +shoulders. She looked at the door and listened, looked again at the +pale bride-clothes. The stillness encouraged her, urged her. And, for +the rest, had she not boasted a few minutes before that, whoever +feared him, she did not; that, whoever drifted helpless on the tide of +fate, she could direct her life, she could be strong? + +She had the chance now if she dared to take it! If she dared? Already +she had thwarted him in a thing dear to him. She had released his +prisoner, conveyed away his bride, wrecked his plans. Dared she thwart +him in this last, this greatest thing? Dared she engage herself and +him in a bond from which no power could free them, a bond that, +the deed done, must subject her to his will and pleasure--and his +wrath--till death? + +She did fear him, she owned it. And she had not dared the venture had +she not loved him more. But love kicked the beam. Love won--as love +ever wins in such contests. Swiftly her mind reviewed the position: so +much loss, so much gain. If he would stand worse here he would stand +better there. And then she did not come empty-handed. Fain would she +have come to him openly and proudly, with her dower in her hands, as +she had dreamed that she would come. But that was not possible. Or, if +it were possible, the prospect was distant, the time remote; while, +this way, love, warm, palpitating, present love, held out arms to her. + +The end was certain. For all things, the time, the gathering darkness, +her gaoler's absence, seconded the temptation. Had she resisted longer +she had been more than woman. As it was, she had time for all she must +do. When the waiting-maid returned, and glanced around the darkened +room, she was not surprised to find her crouching on the floor in the +posture in which she had left her, with head bowed on the window-seat. +But she was surprised to see that she had donned the bride-clothes set +for her. True, the shimmer of white that veiled the head and shoulders +agreed ill with the despondency of the figure; but that was to be +expected. And at least--the woman recognised with relief--there would +be no need of force, no scene of violence, no cries to Heaven. She +uttered a word of thanksgiving for that; and then, thinking that light +would complete the improvement and put a more cheerful face on the +matter, she asked if she should fetch candles. + +"For I think the priest is below, my lady," she continued doubtfully; +she had no mind to quarrel with her future mistress if it could be +avoided. "And my lord may be looked for at any moment." + +The crouching figure stirred a foot fretfully, but did not answer. + +"If I might fetch them----" + +"No!" sharply. + +"But, if it please you, it is nearly dark. And----" + +"Am I not shamed enough already?" The bride as she spoke--in a tone +half ruffled, half hysterical--raised her arms with a passionate +gesture. "If I must be married against my will, I will be married +thus! Thus! And without more light to shame me!" + +"Still it grows--so dark, my lady!" the maid ventured again, though +timidly. + +"I tell you I will have it dark! And"--with another movement as of a +trapped animal--"if they must come, bid them come!" Then, in a choking +voice, "God help me!" she murmured, as she let her head fall again on +her arms. + +The woman wondered, but felt no suspicion; there was something of +reason in the demand. She went and told the elder woman who waited +below. She left the room door ajar, and the Abbess, raising her pale, +frowning face from the window-seat, could hear the priest's voice +mingling in the whispered talk. Light steps passed hurriedly away +through the garden, and after an interval came again; and by-and-by +she heard more steps, and voices under the window--and a smothered +laugh, and then a heavier, firmer tread, and--his voice--his! She +pictured them making way for the master to pass through and enter. + +She had need of courage now, need of the half-breathed prayer; +for there is no cause so bad men will not pray in it. Need of +self-control, too, lest she give way and fall in terror at his feet. +Yet less need of this last; for fear was in her part, and natural to +the right playing of it. So that it was not weakness or modest tremors +or prostration would betray her. + +She clutched this thought to her, and had it for comfort. And when the +door opened to its full width, and they appeared on the threshold and +entered, the priest first, the lord of Vlaye's tall presence next, and +after these three or four witnesses, with the two women behind all, +those less concerned found nothing to marvel at in the sight; nor in +the dim crouching figure, lonely in the dark room, that rose +unsteadily and stood cowering against the wall, shrinking as if in +fear of a blow. It was what they had looked to see, what they had +expected; and they eyed it, one coveting, another in pity, seeing by +the half-light which was reflected from the pale evening sky little +more than is here set down. For the priest, appearances might have +been trebly suspicious, and he had suspected nothing; for he was +terribly afraid himself. And M. de Vlaye, ignorant of the Abbess's +visit and exulting in the success of his plan, a success won in the +teeth of his enemy, had no grounds for suspicion. Even the marriage in +the gloaming seemed only natural; for modesty in a woman seems natural +to a man. He was more than content if the little fool would raise no +disturbance, voice no cries, but let herself be married without the +need of open force. + +With something of kindness in his tone, "The Countess prefers it thus, +does she?" he said, raising his head, as he took in the scene. "Then +thus let it be! Her will is mine, and shall be mine. Still it is dark! +You do, in fact, Countess," he continued smoothly, "prefer it so? I +gathered your meaning rightly--from those you sent?" + +With averted face she made a shamed gesture with her hand. + +"You do not----" + +"If it must be--let it be so!" she whispered. "And now!" And suddenly +she covered her face--they could picture it working pitifully--with +her hands. + +M. de Vlaye turned to his witnesses. "You hear all present," he said, +"that it is with the Countess of Rochechouart's consent that I wed +her. For me it is my part now and will be my part always to do her +pleasure." Then turning his face again to the shrinking figure, that +uttered no protest or word of complaint, "Father, you hear?" he +continued, a note of triumph in his voice. "Do your office on us I +pray, and quickly." And he advanced a step towards his bride. + +The Romish sacrament of marriage is short, and reduced to its +essentials is of the simplest. Father Benet had his orders, and +thankful to be so cheaply quit of his task--for she might have +appealed to him, might have shrieked and struggled, might have made of +his work a public crime--he hastened to bind the two together. For one +second, at the most critical part of the rite--if that could be said +to have parts which was done within the minute--the bride hung, +wavered, hesitated--seemed about to protest or faint. The next, as by +a supreme effort, she tottered a step nearer to the bridegroom, and +placed her hand, burning with fever, in his. In a few seconds the +words that made them man and wife, the irrevocable "_Conjungo vos_," +were spoken. + +Then followed a single moment of awkwardness. The Captain of Vlaye's +heart was high and uplifted. All had gone well, all had gone better +than his hopes. Yet he was prudent as he was bold. He would fain have +raised her veil before them all and kissed her, and proved beyond +cavil her willingness. But he doubted the wisdom of the act. He +reflected that women were strange beings and capricious. She might be +foolish enough to shriek--more, to faint, to resist, to speak; she +might realise, now that it was too late, the thing which she had done. +And a dozen curious eyes were on them, were watching them, were +judging them. He contented himself with bowing over her hand. + +"Would you be alone, madame?" he said gently. "If so, say so, sweet. +And you shall be alone, while you please." + +The answer, low and half-stifled as it was, astonished him. "With +you," she murmured, with face half-averted. And as the others, smiling +and with raised eyebrows, looked at one another, and then at a glance +from him turned to withdraw, "And a light," she added, in the same +subdued tone, "if you please." + +"Bring a light," he said to the waiting-woman. "And, mark you, see +that when your lady wants supper it be ready for her." + +She had still, before they withdrew, a surprise for him. "I would have +a draught of wine--now," she murmured. + +He passed the order to them with a gay air, thinking the while of the +queer nature of women. And he stood waiting by the door until the +order was carried out. The footsteps of the witnesses and their +laughter rose from the garden below as the maid brought in lights and +wine and set them on the table beside him. "You can go," he said; and +after a fleeting glance, half of envy, half of wonder at her new +mistress--who had sunk into a sitting posture on the window-seat--the +woman went out. + +"May I serve you?" he murmured gallantly. And he poured for her. + +With her face turned from him she lifted the gauzy veil with one hand +and with the other--it trembled violently--she raised the wine to her +lips. Still with her shoulder to him--but he set this down to +modesty--she gave him back the empty cup, and he went and set it down +on the table beside the door. When he turned again to her she had +raised her veil and risen to her feet, and stood facing him with +shining eyes. + +"By Heaven!" he cried. And he recoiled a pace, his swarthy face gone +sallow. Was he mad? Was he dreaming? The priest had been silent on the +Abbess's visit. He believed her leagues distant. He had no reason to +think otherwise. And he had not been more astonished if the one woman +had turned into the other before his eyes. "By Heaven!" he repeated. +For the moment sheer astonishment, the stupor of bewilderment, held +him dumb. + +She did not speak, but neither did she quail. She stood confronting +him, erect and stately, her beauty never more remarkable than now, her +breast heaving slightly under the lace. + +"Am I mad?" he muttered again. And he closed his eyes and opened them. +"Or dreaming?" + +"Neither!" she replied. + +"Then who in God's name are you?" he retorted, in something +approaching his natural voice; though the awe of the unnatural still +held his mind. + +"Your wife," she answered. + +"My wife!" With the words the full shock of that which had happened +struck him. + +"Your wife," she rejoined unblenching, though her heart beat wildly, +furiously, in her bosom, and she feared, ah, how she feared! "Your +wife! And which of us two"--she continued proudly--"has a better right +to be your wife? I,"--and with the word she flung the lace superbly +from her head and shoulders, and stood before him in the full +splendour of her beauty--"or that child? That puny weakling? That +doll? I," with increasing firmness--he had not struck her yet!--"who +have your vows, sir, your promises, your sacred oath--and all my due, +as God knows and you know--or that puppet? I, who dare, and for your +sake have dared--you know it only too well!--or that craven, puling +and weeping and waiting for the first chance to flee you or betray +you? What I have done for you"--and proudly she held out her hands to +him--"you know, sir. What she would have done you know not." + +"I know that you have ruined me," he said, looking darkly at her. + +"And in return for--what?" she answered, with a look as dark. + +His nostrils quivered, a pulse beat hard in his cheek. Only the sheer +boldness of that which she had done, only the appeal of the lioness in +her to the lion in him--and her beauty--held his hand; held his hand +from striking her down, woman though she was, at his feet. Had she +faltered, had she turned pale or trembled, had she uttered but one +word of supplication, or done aught but defy him, he had flung her +brutally to the floor and trampled upon her. + +For the Captain of Vlaye was no knight of romance. And no scruple on +his part, no helplessness on hers would have restrained his hand. But +he loved her after his fashion. He loved her beauty, which had never +been more brilliant or alluring; he loved the spirit that proved her +fit helpmeet for such as he. And thwarted, tricked, baffled, hanging +still on the verge of violence over which the least recoil on her part +would push him, he still owned reason in her claim. She was the more +worthy--of the two; such beauty, such spirit, such courage would go +far. And not many weeks back he had looked no higher, aimed no +farther, but had deemed her birth fit dower. But love sits lightly on +the ambitious, and driven by a new danger to a new shift, forced to +look abroad for aid, he had put her aside at the first temptation--not +without a secret thought that she might be still what she had been to +him. + +Her eyes, her words told a different story, and in his secret heart he +gave her credit for her act; and he held his hand. But his looks were +dark and bitter and passionate, as he told her again that she had +ruined him, and flung it coarsely in her face that she brought +herself, and naught besides to the bargain. + +"It is but a little since you thought that enough!" she replied, with +flashing eyes. + +"You are bold to speak to me thus!" he said between his teeth. "What? +You that call yourself my wife, to beard me!" + +"That am your wife!" she answered, though sick fear rapped at her +heart. + +"Then for that the greater need to heed what you say!" he replied. +"Wives that come empty-handed to husbands that ask them not had best +be silent and be patient! Or in a very little time they creep as low +as before they went high! You beautiful fool!" he continued, in a tone +of mingled rage and admiration, "to do this in haste and forget I +could punish at leisure! To do me ill, ay, to ruin me, and forget that +henceforth my pleasure must be yours, my will your rule! My wife, say +you?" with increasing bitterness. "Ay! And therefore my creature, +helpless as the scullion I send to the scourge, or the trooper I hang +up by the heels for sleeping! You--you----" and with a movement as +fierce as it was sudden he grasped her wrist and twisted her round +forcibly so that her eyes at close quarters looked into his. "Do you +not yet repent? Do you not begin to see that in tricking the Captain +of Vlaye you have made your master?" + +She could have screamed with pain, for the bones of her slender wrist +seemed to be cracking in his cruel grip--but she knew that in her +courage, and in that only, lay her one hope. "I know this," she +replied hardily, forcing herself to meet his eyes without flinching, +"that you mistake! I do not come empty--or I had not come," with +pride. "I bring you that will save you--if you treat me well. But if +you hold me so----" + +"What will you do?" savagely. + +"Release me and I will tell you," she answered. "I shall not fly. And +if I say nothing to the purpose, I shall still be in your power." + +He yielded, moved in secret by her spirit. "Well," he said, "speak! +But let it be to the purpose, madam, that is all." + +"Said I not it should be to the purpose?" she answered, her eyes +bright. "And I keep my word, if you do not. Tell me, sir, frankly, +what had that child, that doll"--bitterly--"to put in the scales +against me? Beauty?" + +"Nay!" + +"A skin as white as mine or arms as round?" She held them out to him. +"Or brighter eyes? You have looked in mine often enough and sworn you +loved me, sworn that you would do me no wrong! You should know them-- +and hers!" + +"It was none of these." + +"Her birth? Nay, but she is no better born than I am! A Rochechouart +is what a Villeneuve was. Her rank? No. Then what was it?" + +"No one thing," he answered drily. "But five hundred things." + +"Spears?" + +"You are quick-witted. Spears." + +"And her manors also, I suppose?" with contempt. "Her lordships here +and there! Her farms and castles in Poitou and the Limousin and Beauce +and the Dordogne! Her mills in the Bourbonnais and her fishings in +Sologne!" + +"Not one of these!" + +"No?" + +"The spears only, as God sees me!" he answered firmly. "For without +these I could enjoy not the smallest of those. Without these, of which +you, beautiful fool, have robbed me--robbing me therewith of my last +chance--I take no farm nor smallest mill, nor hold one groat of that I +have won! Do you think, my girl," he continued grimly, "that I was not +pressed when I gave up your lips and your kisses for that child's +company? Do you think it was for a whim, a fancy, a light thing that I +turned my back on you and your smiles, and at risk sought a puling +girl, when I could have had you without risk? Bah! I tell you it was +not to gain, but to hold--because he had no other choice and no other +way--it was not for love but for life, that the King went to his Mass! +And I to mine!" + +"All this I thought," she said quietly. She was no longer afraid of +him. + +"You thought it?" + +"I knew it." + +"You knew it? You knew, madam," he repeated, his face darkening, "on +what a narrow edge I stood, and you dashed away my one holdfast?" + +"To replace it by another," she replied, her figure welling with +confidence. "I tell you, sir, I come not to you empty-handed, if I +come unasked. I bring my dowry." + +He eyed her gloomily. "It should be a large one," he muttered, "if it +is to take the place of that I have lost." + +"It is a large one," she answered. "But," with a change to gentleness, +"do me credit. I have not puled nor wept. I have uttered no cry, I +have made no complaint. But I have righted myself, doing what not one +woman in a hundred would have dared to do! I have wit that has tricked +you, and courage that has not quailed before you. And henceforward I +claim to be no puppet for your play, no doll for your dull hours! But +your equal, my lord, and your mate; deepest in your counsels, the +heart of your plans, your other brain, your other soul! Make me this, +hold me thus--close to you, and---- + +"Is that the thing you bring me?" he said, with sarcasm. Yet she had +moved him. + +"No!" She fell a little from her height, she looked appeal. "My dowry +is different. But say first, sir, I shall be this!" + +"Bring me the spears," he answered, his eyes gleaming, "and you shall +be that and more. Bring me the spears, and----" He made as if he would +take her forcibly in his arms. + +She recoiled, but her eyes shone. "I am yours," she said, "when you +will! Do you not know it? But, for the present, listen. I have a +husband, but I have also a lover. A lover of whom"--she continued more +slowly, marking with joy how he started at the word--"my lord and +master has no need to be jealous. He has not touched of me more than +the tips of my fingers; yet if I raise but those fingers he has spears +and to spare--five hundred and five hundred to that!--and I have but +to play the laggard a little, and dangle a hope, and they dance to my +piping." + +He understood. A deep flush tinged the brown of his lean face. "You +have brought," he said, "the Duke to parley." + +"To parley!" She pointed superbly to the floor. "Nay, but to my feet! +What will you of him? Spears, his good word, his intercession with the +King, a post? Name what you will, and it shall be yours." + +He looked at her shrewdly, with a new admiration, a new and stronger +esteem. Already she filled the place which she had claimed, already +she was to him what she had prayed to be. "You are sure?" he said. + +"In a week, had I not loved you, I had had him and his Duchy, and all +those spears! And mills and manors and lordships and governments, all +had been mine, sir! Mine, had I wished this man; mine, had I been +willing to take him! But I"--letting her arms fall by her sides and +standing submissive before him--"am more faithful than my master!" + +He stood staring at her. "But if this be so," he said at last, his +brows coming together, "what of it? How does it help us? You are now +my wife?" + +"He need not know that yet." + +"No?" + +"He need not know it," she continued firmly, "until he has played his +part, and wrung your pardon from the King! Or at the least--for that +may take time--until he has drawn off his power and left you to face +those whom you can easily match!" + +"He would have wedded you?" he asked, eyeing her in wonder. + +"For certain." + +"But, sweet----" + +"I am sweet now!" she said, with tender raillery. + +"To do this you must go to him?" + +"He shall touch of me no more than the tips of my fingers," she +answered smiling. "Nor"--and at the word a blush stole upward from her +neck to her brow, "need I go on the instant, if your men can be +trusted not to talk, my lord." + +"He is soon without a tongue," he replied grimly, "who talks too fast +here! You should know that of old." + +She lowered her eyes, the colour mounting anew to her brow. "Yes," +she murmured. "I know that your people can be silent. But the +Lieutenant of Perigord is here. You have not"--with a quick, +frightened look--"injured him?" + +"Have no fear." + +"For that were fatal," she continued anxiously. "Fatal! If things go +wrong, he may prove our safety." + +"Pooh, I know it well," Vlaye replied, with a nod of intelligence. +"None better, my girl. But have no fear, he will hear naught of our +doings. Not, I suppose"--with a searching look, half humorous, half +suspicious--"that he is also a captive of your bow and spear." + +"I hate him," she answered. + +Her tone, vehement, yet low, struck the corresponding chord in his +nature. He took her into his arms with a reckless laugh. "You were +right and I was wrong!" he cried, as he fondled her. "You will bring +me more than a clump of spears, my beauty! More than that foolish +child! God! In a month I had strangled her! But you and I--you and I, +sweet, will go far together! And now, to supper! To supper! And the +devil take to-morrow and our cares!" + + + + + CHAPTER XXIV. + + FORS L'AMOUR. + + +Though it was not des Ageaux' fate to lie in one of those underground +dungeons, noisome and dark, which the lords of an earlier century had +provided in the foundations of the castle, he was not greatly the +better for the immunity. The humiliations of the mind are sometimes +sharper than the pains of the body; and the Lieutenant of Perigord, +defeated and a prisoner, was little the happier though a dry +strong-room looking on a tiny inner court held him, and though he +suffered nothing from cold or the slimy companionship of the newt and +frog. On the ambitious man defeat sits more heavily than chains; into +the nature that would fain be at work inaction gnaws deeper than a +shackle-bolt. Never while he lived would des Ageaux forget the long +hours which he spent, gazing drearily on the blank wall that faced his +window, while his mind measured a hundred times over the depth and the +completeness of his fall. + +He feared little for his life if he deigned to fear at all. He knew +that he was a prize too valuable to be wasted. In the last resort, +indeed, when all hopes had failed the Captain of Vlaye, and ruin +stared him in the face, he might wreak his vengeance on the King's +governor. But short of that moment--and it depended upon many +things--the Lieutenant accounted himself safe. Safe as to life, but a +beaten man, a prisoner, a failure; a blot, every moment he lay there, +on the King's dignity, whose deputy he was; an unfortunate, whose ill +hap would never be forgiven by the powers he had represented so ill. + +The misfortune was great, and, to a proud man, well-nigh intolerable. +Moreover, this man was so formed that he loved the order which it was +his mission to extend, and the good government which it was his to +impose. To make straight the crooked--gently, if it might be, but by +the strong hand if it must be--was his part in life, and one which he +pursued with the utmost zest. Every breach of order, therefore, every +trespass in his province, every outrage wounded him. But the breach +and the trespass which abased in his person the King's name--he +writhed, he groaned as he thought of this! Even the blow to his +career, fatal as it promised to be, scarce hurt him worse or cut him +so deeply. + +The more as that career which had been all in all to him yesterday was +not quite all in all to him to-day. Bonne's voice, the touch of her +hands as she appealed to him, the contact of her figure with his as he +carried her, these haunted him, and moved him, in his solitude and his +humiliation. Her courage, her constancy, her appeal to him, when all +seemed lost, he could not think of them--he who had thought of naught +but himself for years--without a softening of his features, without a +flood of colour invading the darkness of his face. Strong, he had +estranged himself from the tender emotions, only to own their sway +now. With half his mind he dwelt upon his mishap; the other half, the +better half, found consolation in the prospect of her sympathy, of her +fidelity, of her gentle eyes and quivering lips--who loved him. He +found it strange to remember that he filled all a woman's thoughts; +that, as he sat there brooding in his prison, she was thinking of him +and dreaming of him, and perhaps praying for him! + +It is not gladly, it is never without a pang that the man of affairs +sees the world pass from him. And if there be nothing left, it is bad +for him. Des Ageaux acknowledged that he had something left. A hand he +could trust would lie in his, and one brave heart, when all others +forsook him would accompany him whither he went. He might no longer +aspire to government and the rule of men, the work of his life was +over; but Bonne would hold to him none the less, would love him none +the less, would believe in him truly. The cares of power would no +longer trouble his head, or keep it sleepless; but her gentle breast +would pillow it, her smiles would comfort him, her company replace the +knot of followers to whom he had become accustomed. He told himself +that he was content. He more than half believed it. + +In the present, however, he had not her company; and the present was +very miserable. He did not fear for his life, but he lay in ignorance +of all that had happened since his capture, of all that went forward; +and the tedium of imprisonment tried him. He knew that he might lie +there weeks and months and come forth at last--for the world moved +quickly in this period of transition--to find himself forgotten. +Seventy years earlier, a king, misnamed the Great, standing where he +stood, had said that all was lost but honour--and had hastened to +throw that also away. For him all was lost but love. All! + +He had passed four days--they seemed to him a fortnight--in this weary +inaction, and on the last evening of the four he was expecting his +supper with impatience, when it occurred to him that the place was +more noisy than ordinary. For some time sounds had reached him without +making any definite impression on his mind; now they resolved +themselves into echoes of distant merry-making. Little spirts of +laughter, the catch of a drinking-song, the shrill squeal of a maid +pinched or kissed, the lilt of a hautboy--he began with quickened ears +to make these out. And straightway that notion which is never out of a +prisoner's mind and which the least departure from routine fosters +raised its head. Escape! Ah, if he could escape! Freedom would set him +where he had been, freedom would undo the worst of his mishap. It +might even give him the victory he had counted lost. + +But the grated window or the barred door, the paved floor or the oaken +roof--one of these must be pierced; or the gaoler, who never visited +him without precautions and company, must be overcome and robbed of +his keys. And even then, with that done which was well-nigh +impossible, he would be little nearer to freedom than before. He would +be still in the heart of his enemy's fortress, with no knowledge of +the passages or the turnings, no clue to the stone labyrinth about +him, no accomplice. + +Yet, beyond doubt, there was merry-making afoot--such merry-making as +accounted for the tarrying of his supper. Probably the man had +forgotten him. By-and-by the notes of the hautboy rose louder and +fuller, and on the wave of sound bursts of applause and laughter came +to him. He made up his mind that some were dancing and others were +looking on and encouraging them. Could it be that the Captain of Vlaye +had surprised the peasants' camp? and that this was his way of +celebrating his success? Or was it merely some common-place orgie, +held, it might be, in the Captain's absence? Or---- But while he +turned this and that in his thoughts the footsteps he had been +expecting sounded at the end of the stone passage and approached. A +light shone under the door, a key turned in the lock, and the man who +brought him his meals appeared on the threshold. He entered, his hands +full, while his comrade, who had opened for him, remained in the +passage. + +"You are gay this evening?" the Lieutenant said as the man set down +his light. + +The fellow grinned. "Ay, my lord," he replied good-humouredly, "you +may say it. Wedding-bells and the rest of it!" He was not drunk, but +he was flushed with wine. "That is the way the world goes--and comes." + +"A wedding?" des Ageaux exclaimed. The news was strange. + +"To be sure, my lord. + + + 'En revenant des noces, + Barabim!'" + + +he hummed. + +"And whose, my man?" + +The fellow, in the act of putting a bowl of soup on the table, held +his hand. He looked at the Lieutenant with a grin. "Ay, whose?" he +said. "But that would be talking. And we have orders not to talk, see +you, my lord. Still, it is not many you'll have the chance of telling. +And, if I tell you it is the Captain himself, what matter? Should we +be footing it and drinking it and the rest for another?" + +"M. de Vlaye married?" des Ageaux exclaimed in astonishment. "To-day?" + +"Married for sure, and as tight as Father Benet could marry him! But +to-day"--with his head on one side--"that is another matter." + +"And the bride?" + +"Ay, that is another matter, tool" with a wink. "Not that you can let +it out to many either! So, if you must know----" + +"Best not," intervened his comrade in the passage, speaking for the +first time. + +"Perhaps you do not know yourself?" the Lieutenant said shrewdly. He +saw that the man was sufficiently in drink to be imprudent. With a +little provocation he would tell. + +"Not know?"--with indignation. "Didn't I----" + +"Know or not, don't tell!" growled the other. + +"Of course," said des Ageaux, "if you don't know you cannot tell." + +"Oh!" the fool rejoined. "Cannot I? Well, I can tell you it is +Mademoiselle de Villeneuve. So there's for knowing!" + +Des Ageaux sprang to his feet, his face transformed. "What!" he cried. +"Say that again!" + +But his excitement overreached itself. His movement warned the other +that he had spoken too freely. With an uneasy look--what had he +done?--he refused to say more, and backed to the door. "I have said +too much already," he muttered sullenly. + +"But----" + +"Don't answer him!" commanded the man in the passage. "And hurry! You +have stayed too long as it is! I would not be in your shoes for +something if the Captain comes to know." + +Des Ageaux stepped forward, pressing him again to speak. But the man, +sobered and frightened, was obdurate. "I've said too much already," he +answered with a resentful scowl. "What is it to you, my lord?" And he +slipped out hurriedly, and secured the door behind him. + +Des Ageaux remained glaring at the closed door. Bonne de Villeneuve +had been taken with him. Bonne de Villeneuve also was a prisoner. Was +it possible that she had become by force or willingly Vlaye's bride? +Possible? Ah, God, it must be so! And, if so, by force surely! Surely, +by force; his faith in her told him that! But if by force, what +consolation could he draw from that? For that, if he loved her, were +worst of all, most cruel of all! That were a thing intolerable by God +or man! + +So it seemed to this man, who only a few days before had not known +what love was. But who now, stung with sudden passion, flung himself +from wall to wall of his narrow prison. Now, when he saw it snatched +from him, now, when he saw himself denuded of that solace at which he +had grasped, but for which he had not been sufficiently thankful, now +he learned what love was, its pains as well as its promise, its +burning fevers, its heart-stabbing pity! He lost himself in rage. He +who for years had practised himself in calmness, who had made it his +aim to hide his heart, forgot his lesson, flung to the night his +habit. He seized the iron bars of his window and shook them in a +paroxysm of fury, as if only by violence he could retain his sanity. +When the bars, which would have resisted the strength of ten, declined +to leave the stone, he flung himself on the door, and beat on it and +shouted, maddened by the thought that she was under the same roof, +that she was within call, yet he could not help her! He called Vlaye +by dreadful names, challenging him, and defying him, and promising him +terrible deaths. And only when echo and silence answered all and the +iron sense of his helplessness settled down slowly upon him and numbed +his faculties did he, too, fall silent and, covering his face with his +hands, stagger to a seat and sit in a stupor of despair. + +He had put love aside, he had despised it through years--for this! He +had held it cheap when it promised to be his--for this! He had +accepted it grudgingly, and when all else was like to fail him--for +this! He was punished, and sorely. She was near him. He pictured her +in the man's power, in the man's hands, in the man's arms! And he +could not help her. + +Had his impotent cries and threats been heard they had only +covered him with humiliation. Fortunately they were not heard: the +merry-making was at its height, and no one came near him. The Captain +of Vlaye, aware that his marriage could not be hidden from his own +men--for he had made no secret of it beforehand--had not ventured to +forbid some indulgence. He could make it known that the man who named +his bride outside the gate would lose his tongue; but, that arranged, +he must wink--for every despotism is tempered by something--at a few +hours of riot, and affect not to see things that at another time had +called for swift retribution. + +The men had used his permission to the full. They had brought in some +gipsies to make sport for them, a treble allowance of wine was on +draught, and the hour that saw des Ageaux beating in impotent fury on +his door saw the license and uproar of which he had marked the +beginning grown to a head. In the great hall the higher officers, +their banquet finished, were deep in their cups. In the cavernous +kitchens drunken cooks probed cauldrons for the stray capon that still +floated amid the spume; or half-naked scullions thrust a forgotten +duck or widgeon on the spit at the request of a hungry friend. About +the fires in the courtyard were dancing and singing and some romping; +for there were women within the walls, and others had come in with the +gipsies. Here a crowd surrounded the bear, and laid furious bets for +or against; while yelps and growls and fierce barkings deafened all +within hearing. There a girl, the centre of a leering ring, danced to +the music of her tambour; and there again a lad tumbled, and climbed a +pole at risk of his limbs. Everywhere, save in the dark garden under +the "demoiselle's" windows, where a sentry walked, and at the great +gates, where were some sober men picked for the purpose, wantonness +and jollity held reign, and the noise of brawling and riot cast fear +on the town that listened and quaked below. + +A stranger entering the castle would have judged the reins quite +fallen, all discipline fled, all control lost. But he had been wrong. +Not only did a sentry walk the garden path--and soberly and shrewdly +too--but no man in his wildest and tipsiest moment ventured a foot +within the railing that fenced the lime avenue, or even approached the +gates that led to it without lowering his voice and returning to +something like his normal state. For in the rooms looking over the +garden M. de Vlaye entertained his bride of two days--and he had +relaxed, not loosed, the reins. + +They sat supping in the room in which they had been wedded, and, +unmoved by the sounds of uproar that came fitfully to their ears, +discussed their plans; she, glowing and handsome, animated by present +love and future hope; he, content, if not enraptured, conquered by her +wit, and almost persuaded that all was for the best--that her charms +and beauty would secure him more than the dowry of her rival. Their +brief honeymoon over, they were to part on the morrow; she to pursue +her plans for the Duke's detachment, he to take the field and strike +such a blow as should scatter the peasants and dissipate what strength +remained in them. They were to part; and some shadow of the coming +separation had been natural. But her nerves as well as his were +strong, and the gloom of parting had not yet fallen on them. The +lights that filled the room were not brighter than her eyes; the snowy +linen that covered the round table at which they sat was not whiter +than her uncovered shoulders. He had given her jewels, the spoils of +many an enterprise; and they glittered on her queenly neck and in her +ears, gleamed through the thin lace of her dress, and on her round and +beautiful arms. He called her his Abbess and his nun in fond derision; +and she, in answering badinage, rallied him on his passion for the +Countess and his skill in abduction. So cleverly had she wrought on +him, so well managed him, that she dared even that. + +The room had been hung for her with tapestries brought from another +part of the house; the windows more richly curtained; and a door, long +closed, had been opened, through which and an ante-room the chambers +connected with M. de Vlaye's apartments. Where the wedding robes had +lain on the window-seat a ribboned lute and a gay music-book lay on +rich draperies, and elbowed a gilded head-piece of Milanese work +surmounted by M. de Vlaye's crest, which had been brought in for his +lady's approval. A mighty jar of Provence roses scented the apartment; +and intoxicated by their perfume or their meaning, she presently +seized the lute, and gaily, between jest and earnest, broke into the +old Angoumois song:-- + + + "Si je suis renfermee. + Ah, c'est bien sans raison; + Ma plus belle journee, + Se pass'ra-z-en prison. + Mais mon amant sans peine + Pourra m'y venir voir, + Son c[oe]ur sait bien qu'il m'aime, + Il viendra'-z-au parloir!" + + +And he answered her-- + + + "Oh, Madame l'Abbesse, + Qu'on tire les verrous, + Qu'on sorte ma maitresse + Le plus beau des bijoux; + Car je suis capitaine, + Je suis son cher amant, + J'enfoncerai sans peine + Les portes du couvent!" + + +As he finished, disturbed by some noise, he turned his head. "I told +your wench to go," he said, rising. "I suppose she took herself off?" +With a frown, he strode to the screen that masked the door, and made +sure by looking behind it that they had no listeners. + +She smiled as she laid aside the lute. "I thought that your people +obeyed at a word?" she said. + +"They do, or they suffer," he answered. + +"And is that to apply to me?" with a mocking grimace. + +"When we come to have two wills, sweet, yes!" he retorted. "It will +not be yet awhile. In the meantime I would this enterprise of yours +were over. I doubt your success, though all looks well." + +"If I had been half as sure of you two days ago as I am of him +to-morrow!" she retorted. + +"Yet you must not go too far with him." + +She waved her finger-tips across the table. "So far, and no farther," +she said lightly. "Have I not promised you? For the rest--what I have +done I can do. Am I not armed?" And she rose from her seat, and stood +before him in all the seduction of her charms. "Count it done, my +master. Set Joyeuse aside. He is captive of _my_ bow and spear. The +question is, can you deal with the rest?" + +"The peasants?" + +"And what remains of des Ageaux' power? And the Countess's levies?" + +"For certain, if the Duke be out of the reckoning," he answered. +"He is a man. Remove him and des Ageaux--and the latter I have +already--and there is no one. Your brothers----" + +"Bah!" She dismissed them with a contemptuous gesture. + +"Just so. And the Countess's people have no leader. The Vicomte is +old. There is no one. Detach the Duke, and there will be a speedy end +of them. And before a new governor can set to work to make head +against me, many things may happen, my girl!" + +"Many things will happen," she answered with confidence. "If I can win +one man, why not another? If a Duke, why not"--she made an +extraordinary face at him, half-sportive, half-serious--"why not a +greater? Eh, my lord?" + +He stared. "No!" he answered, striking the table with sudden violence. +"No!" He knew well what she meant and whom she meant. "Not that! Even +to make all good, not that!" Yet his eyes glittered as he looked at +her; and it was plain that his thoughts travelled far and fast on the +wings of her words. While she, in the pride of her mastery, returned +his look fondly. + +"No, not that--never that!" she replied in a voice that more than +reassured him. "It is for you and only for you that I do this. I am +yours, all and always--always! But, short of that, something may be +done. And, with friends at Court, from Captain of Vlaye to Governor of +Perigord is but a step!" + +He nodded. "And a step that might save his Majesty much trouble," he +said with a smile. "Do that---- But I doubt your power, my girl." + +"I have done that already should persuade you." + +"You have tricked me," he said, smiling. "That is true. And it is no +mean thing, I grant." + +"More than that!" she retorted. The wine she had drunk had flushed her +cheek and perhaps loosed her tongue. "More than that I have done! Who +took the first step for you? Who put the Lieutenant in your hands--and +my sister? And so, in place of my sister, the Countess?" + +He looked at her in astonishment. "Who?" he rejoined. "Why, who but I +myself? Did I not take them with my own hands--at the old windmill on +the hill? What had you to do with that?" + +"And who sent them to the windmill?" + +"Why, the rabble to be sure, who seized them, took them as far as the +ford." + +"And who set the rabble on them?" As she asked the question she rose +from her seat. In the excitement of her triumph, in the intoxication +of her desire to please him she forgot the despair into which the act +which she boasted had cast her but a week before. She forgot all +except that she had done it for him whom she loved, for him who now +was hers, and whose she was! "Who," she repeated, "set the rabble upon +them?" + +"You?" he murmured. "Not you?" + +"I!" she said, "I!"--and held out her hands to him. "It was I who told +the brute beasts that he--des Ageaux--had your man in hiding! It was I +who wrought them to the attempt and listened while they did it! I +thought, indeed, that it was your Countess who was with him. And I +hated her! I was jealous of her! But, Countess or no Countess, 'twas +done by me!--by me! And now do you think that there is anything I will +not do for you? That there is anything I cannot do for you?" + +He was not shocked; it took much to shock the Captain of Vlaye. But he +was so much astonished, he marvelled so much that he was silent. And +she, reading the astonishment in his face, and seeing it grow, felt a +qualm--now she had spoken--and lost colour, and faltered. Had she been +foolish to tell it? Perhaps. Had she passed some boundary, sacred to +him, unknown to her? It must be so. For as she gazed, no word spoken, +there came into his face a change, a strange hardening. He rose. + +"My lord!" she cried, clapping her hands to her head, "what have I +done?" She recoiled a pace, affrighted. "I did it for you!" + +"Some one has heard you," he answered between his teeth. And then she +saw that he was looking not at her, but beyond her--beyond her. "There +is some one behind that screen." + +She faced about, affrighted, and instinctively seized his arm and hung +on it, her eyes on the screen. Her attitude as she listened, and her +pallor, were in strange contrast with the gay glitter of the table, +the lights, the luxury, the fairness of her dress. + +"Yes, listening," he said grimly. "Some one has been listening. The +worse for them! For they will never tell what they have heard!" + +And bounding forward without warning, he dashed the screen down and +aside--and recoiled. Face to face with him, cowering against the +doorpost, and pale as ashes, was the very man she had mentioned a +minute before--that very man of his whose hidden presence in the camp +she had betrayed to the malcontents. Vlaye glared at him. "You!" he +cried. "You!" + +"My lord!" + +"And listening!" + +"But----" + +"But! But die, fool!" the Captain retorted savagely. "Die!" And, swift +as speech, the dagger he had stealthily drawn gleamed above his +shoulder and sank in the poor wretch's throat. + +The man's hands groped in the air, his eyes opened wide; but he +attempted no return-stroke. Choked by the life-stream that gushed from +his mouth, he sank back inert like a bundle of clothes, while the +Abbess's low shriek of terror mingled with his stifled cry. + +And, with a sterner sound, another sound. For as the man collapsed, +and fell in on himself, a figure hitherto hidden in the doorway sprang +over his falling body, a long blade flashed in the candle-light, and +the Captain of Vlaye staggered back, one hand pressed to his breast. +He made a futile attempt to ward with his poniard, but it fell from +his grasp. And the pitiless steel found his heart again. Silent, grim, +with unquenchable hate in his eyes, he reeled against the table. And +then from the table, dragging with him all--silver and glass and +fruit--in one common crash, he rolled to the floor--dying. + +Ay, in five seconds, dead! And she saw it with her eyes! Saw it! And +frozen, stiff, clinging to the bare edge of the table, she stood +looking at him, her brain numbed by the horror, by the suddenness, the +hopelessness of the catastrophe. In a twinkling, in a time measured by +seconds, it was done. The olives that fell from the dish had not +ceased to roll, the wine still crept upon the floor, the man who had +struck the blow still panted, his point delivered--but he was dead +whom she had loved. Dead! + + + + + CHAPTER XXV. + + HIS LAST RIDE. + + +The man who had struck the blow, and whose eyes still sparkled with +fury, turned them upon her. He took note of her stupor, frowned, and +with a swift, cruel glance searched the room. The lights were in +sconces on the walls, and had not suffered. The rest was wreck--a +splendid wreck, mingled terror and luxury, with the woman's +Medusa-like face gazing on it. The Duke--for he it was--still +breathing quickly, still with malevolence in his eyes, listened and +looked; but the alarm had not been taken. The lilt of a song and faint +distant laughter, borne on the night air, alone broke the night +silence. He passed to a window, and putting aside a curtain, peered +into the darkness of the garden. Then he went to the door, and +listened. Still all was quiet without and within. But to the scene in +the room his gliding figure, his bent, listening head gave the last +touch of tragedy. + +Presently--before, it would appear, he had made up his mind how to +act--he saw a change come over the woman. Her breathing, which had +been no more apparent for a time than the breath of the dead at her +feet, became evident, her figure relaxed. Her attitude lost its +stoniness; yet she did not stir to the eye. Only her eyes moved; and +then at last her foot. Stealthily her foot--the man listening at the +door marked it--slid from her robe, and unshod in its thin silken +stocking--so thin of web that the skin showed through it--covered the +poniard, still wet with blood, that had fallen from her husband's +hand. Slowly she drew it nearer and nearer to her. + +He at the door made as if he did not heed. But when she had drawn the +weapon within reach, and furtive and silent as a cat, stooped to grasp +it, he was before her--so far before her, at least, that, though she +gained it, he clutched her wrist as she rose. "No, madam!" he cried +fiercely. "No! Enough!" And he tried to force it from her hand. + +No words came from her lips, but an animal cry of unutterable fury. +She seized on his wrist with her left hand--she tried to seize it with +her teeth; she fought to free herself, clinging to the knife and +wrestling with him in the midst of the trampled fruit, the shivered +glass, the mingled wine and blood that made the floor slippery. + +"Let it fall!" he repeated, hard put to it and panting. "Enough, I +say, enough!" If he had loved her once he showed scant tenderness now. + +And she--her lips writhed, her hair uncoiled and fell about her. He +began to wish that he had not dropped his sword when he sprang upon +her. For he was still weak; and if she persevered she was more than a +match for him. In her normal condition she had been more than a match +for him; but the shock had left its secret sap. Suddenly, without cry +or warning, her grasp relaxed, her head fell back, and she sank--all +her length, but sideways--amid the ruin. + +He nursed his wrist a moment, looking askance at her, and thinking +deeply and darkly. Assured at length that the swoon was no feint to +take him unawares, he went to the door by which he had entered, passed +through the empty ante-room, and thence into the Captain of Vlaye's +apartments. In the passage outside the farther door of these a sleepy +valet was on guard. He was not surprised by the Duke's appearance, for +half an hour before--only half an hour!--he had allowed him and his +guide to enter. + +"M. de Vlaye wishes to see the Captain of the gate," the Duke said +curtly. "Bid him come, and quickly." And to show that he looked for no +answer he turned his back on the man, and, without looking behind him, +passed through the rooms again to the one he had left. + +Here he did a strange thing. On a side table which had escaped the +general disaster stood some dishes removed from the chief table, a +plate or two, a bread trencher, and a silver decanter of wine. After a +moment's thought he drew a chair to this table, laid his sword on it +beside the dishes, and, helping himself to food, began to eat and +drink, with his eyes on the door. After the lapse of two or three +minutes, during which he more than once scanned the room with a +strange and inexplicable satisfaction, a knock was heard at the door. + +"Enter!" said the Duke, his mouth half-full. + +The door opened, and a grizzled man with a square-cut beard stepped +in. He wore a breastpiece over a leather coat, and held his steel cap +in his hand. + +"Shut the door!" the Duke said sharply. + +The man did so mechanically, and turned again, and--his mouth opened. +After a few seconds of silence "Mon Dieu!" he whispered. "Mon Dieu!" + +"He is quite dead," the Duke said, raising his glass to his lips. "But +you had better satisfy yourself. When you have done so, listen to me." + +Had the Duke been in any other attitude it is probable that the man +had turned in a panic, flung the door wide, and yelled for help. But, +seeing a stranger calmly eating and drinking and addressing him with a +morsel on the point of his knife, the man stared helplessly, and then +did mechanically as he was told--stooped, listened, felt for the life +that had for ever departed. When he rose again "Now, listen to me," +said the other. "I am the Duke of Joyeuse--you know my name? You know +me? Yes, I did it. That is not your affair--but I did it. Your affair +is with the thing we have next to do. No--she is not dead." + +"Mon Dieu!" the man whispered. Old war-dog as he was, his cheeks were +sallow, his hand trembled. A hundred dead, in the open, on the +rampart, under God's sky, had not scared him as this lighted room with +its medley of horror and wealth, its curtained windows and its +suffocating tapestry, scared him. + +"Your affair," the Duke repeated, "is with what is to follow." He +raised his glass, and held it between his eye and the light. "Do you +take my side or his? He is dead--you see him. I am alive--you know me. +Now hear my terms. But first, my man, what do you number?" + +The man made an effort, vain for the most part, to collect himself. +But he managed to whisper, after a moment's hesitation, that they +mustered four hundred and thirty, all told. + +"Fighting-men?" + +The man moved his lips without sound, but the other understood that he +assented. + +"Very well," the Duke said. "All that is here I give you. Understand, +all. Divide, sack, spoil; make your bundles. He is dead," with a +glance at Vlaye's body, "he'll not say you nay. And a free pardon for +all; and for as many as please--my service. All that I give, on +condition that you open your gates to me and render the place three +hours after sunrise to-morrow." + +The man gaped. The position was new, but he began to see his way. "I +can do nothing by myself," he muttered. + +"You can have first search," Joyeuse retorted brutally. "There he +lies, and his buttons are jewelled. And ten gold crowns I will give +you for yourself when the place is mine. You know me, and I keep my +word. I told your friend there, who got me entrance"--he pointed to +the man Vlaye had stabbed--"that if his master laid a finger on him I +would kill his master with these hands. I did it. And there's an end." + +The grizzled man's face was changed. It had grown cunning. His eyes +shone with cupidity. His cheekbones were flushed. "And if they will +not come into your terms, my lord?" he asked, his head on one side, +his fingers in his beard, "what must I say you will do?" + +"Hang while rope lasts," the Duke answered. "But, name of God, +man!"--staring--"beyond the spoils of the place what do you want? He +is dead, you have no leader. What matter is it of yours or of theirs +who leads?" + +The old soldier nodded. "That is true," he said: "we follow our +wages." + +"One thing more--nay, three things," Joyeuse continued, pushing his +cup and plate aside and rising to his feet. "The lady there--I trust +her to you. Lock her up where she will be safe, and at daybreak +see that she is sent to the convent. M. des Ageaux, whom you have +below--not a hair of his head must be injured. Lastly, you must do no +harm in the town." + +"I will remember, my lord, and tell them." + +"And now see me through the gates." + +The man grinned cunningly; but as one who wished to prove his +astuteness, not as one who intended to refuse. "That is number four, +my lord," he said, "and the chiefest of all." + +"Not so," the Duke answered. "It was on that condition I spared your +life, fool, when you came in." + +"Then you knew----" + +"I knew that his buttons were jewelled." + +"My lord," the man said with admiration, "I vow you'd face the devil." + +"You will do that whether you will or no," the Duke replied drily, +"some day. But that reminds me." He turned from his companion. He +looked on the bloodshed about him, and gradually his face showed the +first signs of compunction that had escaped him. Something of disgust, +almost of distress, appeared in his manner. He glanced from one +prostrate form to another as if he scarce knew what to do and +presently he crossed himself. "Lift her to the couch there," he said. +And when it was done, "My friend," he continued, in a lower tone, +"wait without the door one minute. But do not go beyond call." + +The old soldier raised his eyebrows, but he, thoroughly won over, +obeyed. Once outside, however, he pondered cunningly. Why had he been +sent out? And thoughts of his jewelled buttons overcame him. After a +moment's hesitation--for Joyeuse had put fear into him--he dropped +softly to his knee and set his eye to a crack in the door. + +M. de Joyeuse was kneeling between the dead, his palms joined before +his breast, his rosary between them. The lights of the feast, that +shone ghastly on the grim faces and on the blood-pool about them, +shone also on his uplifted face, from which the last trace of the +tremendous rages to which he was prone had fled, leaving it pale +indeed and worn--for the marks of his illness were still upon it--but +calm and sublime. His eyes were upward bent. Those eyes that a few +minutes earlier had burned with a hatred almost sub-human now shone +with a light soft and ecstatic, such as shines in the eyes of those +who see visions and hear voices. His lips moved without sound. The +beads dropped one by one through his fingers. + + + * * * * * + + +The hewers of wood and feeders of oxen who herded together in the town +under the castle walls were timidly aware of the festivities above +their heads. The sounds of brawling and dancing, of the tambour and +glee, descended to them and kept them waiting far into the night. On +occasions, rare, it is true, the war-lords above had broken loose from +their bonds, and, mad with drink and frenzied with excitement, had +harried their own town. Once, to teach a lesson, the thing had been +done--but more completely and cruelly--by Vlaye's express order. +The memory of these occasions remained, burned shamefully into the +towns-folk's mind; and many a cotter looked up this night in trembling +from his humble window, many a woman with her hood about her head +stood in the alley whispering to her neighbour and quaked as she +listened. Something beyond the ordinary was passing above, in the +stronghold that at once protected and plundered them; something that a +sad experience told them boded no good. Two or three young women of +the better class went so far as to seek a sanctuary in Father Benet's +chapel; while their fathers hid their little hoards, and their mothers +took heed to quench the fires, and some threw water on the thatch--sad +precautions which necessity had made second nature in many a hamlet +and many a market-town of France. + +Had they known, these poor folk who paid for all, that their lord lay +dead in the lighted room above, had they guessed that the hand which +had held those turbulent troopers in order was nerveless at last, +never again to instil fear or strike a blow, not even these +precautions had contented them. They would have risen and fled, and in +the marshes by the river or in remote meadows would have hidden +themselves from the first violence of the troopers' outbreak. But they +did not know, and they remained. And though those who were most +fearful or least sleepy, women or men, noted that the lights above +burned all night and that the tumult, albeit its note changed, held +till dawn, they slept or kept vigil in security. The Duke's command +availed. And no man, until the day was broad, left the castle. + +Then the gates were opened, and a procession numbering four score +troopers--those who had the most to fear from justice or the least +bent towards honest service--issued from them, and rode two abreast +down the hill and through the town, They were in strange guise. Every +man had a great bundle on his crupper, and some a woman; and every man +rode gorgeous in silk or Genoa, or rich furs, with feathers and such +like gewgaws. One had a headpiece damascened beyond price swinging at +his shoulders, another flaunted trappings of silver, a third had a +jewelled hilt, a fourth a bunch of clinking cups or a swollen belt. +Behind them came a dozen spare horses, roped head and tail and high +laden with casks and skins of wine; while hunting-dogs ran at the +stirrups, and two or three monkeys and thrice as many chained hawks +balanced themselves on the swaying casks. The men rode jauntily, with +high looks and defiant voices, jesting and singing as they passed; and +now and again a one aimed a blow at a clown, or, with rude laughter, +flung a handful of coppers to the townsfolk, who shrank into their +doorways to see them pass. But no man vouchsafed a word of +explanation; only the last rider as he passed under the arch of the +town gate turned, and, with his hands joined, flung behind him a +derisive gesture of farewell. + +The townsfolk wondered, for the men were rich laden. Many a one +carried a year's pay on his shoulders; and what they hid in their +bundles might amount to many times as much. Moreover, they swaggered +as men who mind no master. What then had happened? Nay, what was still +happening? For it was plain that something was amiss above. From the +castle proceeded a strange and continuous hum; a dull noise, as of +bees swarming; a murmur compound of many sounds, and full of menace. + +But no man who was not in the secret guessed the truth or even came +near it. And the sun had travelled far and the lads had driven the +cows to pasture before the green valley of the Dronne, that had lain +so long under the spell of fear, awoke to find its burden gone and to +learn that a better time, bringing law, order, and justice, was at +hand. About seven a body of horsemen were seen crossing the narrow +plain which divided the place from the northern heights; and as these +approached the bridge a lad, one of those who had first espied them, +was sent to carry the alarm to the castle. The townsfolk looked to see +a rush of armed men to the outer gate; or, if not that, something +akin. But nothing of the kind followed, and while they stood gaping, +uncertain whether to stand their ground or flee to hiding, the +advancing horsemen, who numbered about two hundred, marched across the +bridge with every sign of confidence. + +The Duke was not among them. Fatigue and the weakness caused by his +wound had stood in the way of his return, and at this hour he lay in +utter collapse in his quarters in the peasants' camp. His place was +occupied by the Bat, who rode in the van with Charles de Villeneuve on +his right and Roger on his left. The young men's minds were clouded by +thoughts of their sister and her plight; but, in spite of this, it was +a day of pride to them, a day of triumph and revenge--and they rode in +that spirit. The Bat, to whom Hecuba was naught--it was long since a +woman had troubled his peace--wore none the less a grave face. For +time had pressed, the Duke's explanation had been brief though fervid, +and the men had saddled and started within an hour of his return. +Consequently all might be well, or it might be ill. The Captain of +Vlaye's troops might surrender the place without a blow, or they might +not. For his part, the Bat would not have risked his purse on their +promise. + +But to risk his life and his men was in the way of war. And he moved +steadily up the street, and gave no sign of doubt. Nevertheless it was +his ear that, as they debouched into the market-place, caught the +tread of a galloping horse on the flat beyond the river; and it was +his hand that halted the men--apparently that the stragglers might +move up and take their places. + +A minute or two later the galloping horse pounded under the gateway +and clattered recklessly up the paved street. The sound of those +hurrying hoofs told of news; and the men turned in their saddles and +looked to learn who followed. The rider appeared in the open. It was +Bonne de Villeneuve. + +Charles wheeled his horse, and rode down the column to meet his +sister. "You have not come alone?" he said in astonishment, mingled +with anger. + +She nodded, breathing quickly; and, supporting herself by one hand on +the sweating horse, she pulled up. She was unable to speak for a +moment. Then "I must go first!" she gasped. "I must go first." + +"But----" + +"I must! I must!" she replied. Her distress was painful. + +Her brother frowned. The Bat eyed her, in doubt and perplexity. But +Roger spoke. "Let her go," he said in a low voice. "I understand. She +is right." + +And though no one else understood, the Bat let her pass the head of +the file of horsemen and ride alone up the way that led to the castle. +The men, with wondering faces, watched her figure and her horse until +the turn in the road hid her, and watched again until she was seen +crossing the bridge which spanned the road. Immediately she vanished +without let or hindrance. + +"The gates are open," some one muttered in a tone of relief. And the +men's faces lost their gravity. They fell into postures of ease, and +began to talk and exchange jests. Some gazed up at the castle windows +or at that rampart walk, high above the town, which had been the +Captain of Vlaye's favourite lounge of evenings. Only the foremost +ranks, who could see the road before them and the bridge that crossed +it, continued to look to the front with curiosity. + +It was one of these whose exclamation presently stilled all tongues +and recalled all thoughts to the work in hand. An instant later the +Bat's face turned a dull red colour. Roger laughed nervously. Some of +the men swayed, and seemed inclined to cheer; others raised their +hands, but thought better of it. The rear ranks rose in their +stirrups. A moment and all could see des Ageaux coming down the road +on foot. The Bat and the two Villeneuves went forward to meet him. + +He nodded to them without speaking. Then, "Why are you waiting?" he +asked in a low voice. "Is it not all arranged?" + +"But mademoiselle," the Bat answered, staring. "Have you not seen +her?" + +"No." + +"But I thought--she asked us to wait." + +The Lieutenant of Perigord looked along the line of horsemen, whose +bronzed faces and smiling eyes--all striving at once to catch +his--gave him welcome. "I don't understand," he said. "I know nothing +of this." + +"I do," Roger muttered. "I think Charles and I should go forward, +and----" + +He did not continue. The Bat, by a movement which silenced him, called +his attention to the bridge. On it a number of persons had that moment +appeared, issuing from the castle gates, and directing their course to +the tilt-yard crest. Their progress was slow, yet the gazers below +could not, from the place where they stood, discern why; or precisely +who they were. But presently, after an interval of suspense and +waiting, the little company reappeared in the road below and began to +descend the slope towards them. Then here and there a man caught his +breath, and, as by one consent, all edged their horses to the side. M. +des Ageaux bared his head, and the troopers, from front to rear, +followed his example. + +It was a brief and mournful procession. In the van, riding where he +had ridden so often, to foray and skirmish, the Captain of Vlaye rode +his last ride, with a man at either rein and either stirrup, his +war-cloak about him, and his steel headpiece nodding above his +clay-cold face. His lance, with its drooping pennon, rose upright from +his stirrup, and the faithful four who brought him forth had so fixed +it that he seemed to grasp its shaft rather than to be supported by +it. The sun twinkled on his steel, the light breeze caught and lifted +the ends of his sash. As the old war-horse paced slowly and quietly +along, conscious of its burden and of death, it was hard to say at a +glance that the Lord of all the Valley was not passing forth as of old +to battle; that, instead, he was moving to his last rest in the +cloister which rose among the trees a half-league from the walls. + +A few paces behind him, in a mule-litter, was borne a woman swathed in +black cloth from head to foot, so that not so much as her eyes +appeared. On one side of the litter walked Bonne, her chin on her +breast, and her hand resting on the litter's edge. On the other side +walked a frightened waiting-woman. + +M. de Vlaye passed, the litter passed, all passed. But until the +procession disappeared in the narrow street that led to the town gate +no man covered himself or moved. Then, at a low word of command, the +line of troopers rode on with a sudden merry jingle of bits and spurs, +and, winding up the little gorge between the crests, marched over the +bridge and through the open gates. + +The Lieutenant's first act was to go to a low rampart on the west side +of the courtyard, whence it was possible to trace with the eye the +road to the Abbey. Bonne had not looked at him as she passed, nor so +much as raised her eyes. But he knew by some subtle sense that she had +been aware of his presence and that he had her promise that she would +return. + +Doubtless he looked forward to the moment of meeting; doubtless he +looked forward to other things. But it was characteristic of the man +that as soon as he had assured himself of her safe passage he turned +without more ado to the work of restoring order, of raising the King's +standard, and enforcing the King's peace. + + + + THE END. + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Abbess Of Vlaye, by Stanley J. 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