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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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The path of honor</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em;'>A tale of the war in the Bocage</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Burton Egbert Stevenson</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Illustrators: Olive Rush</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em;'>Ethel Pennewill Brown</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: November 17, 2022 [eBook #69105]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: D A Alexander, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PATH OF HONOR ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter hide"><img src="images/cover.jpg" width="450" alt="" /></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<h1>THE PATH <i>of</i> HONOR</h1> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="bbox"> -<p class="ph1">PREVIOUS NOVELS IN “<i>THE BASTILE<br /> -SERIES</i>” OF FASCINATING<br /> -FRENCH ROMANCE....</p> - -<p class="center">BY BURTON E. STEVENSON</p> - -<hr class="full" /> -<p class="ph3">AT ODDS WITH<br /> -THE REGENT</p> - -<p class="center">A Story of the Cellamare Conspiracy</p> - -<hr class="tiny" /> - -<p>“Full of action from start to finish, and<br /> -the dialogue is bright all the way through.”</p> - -<p class="right">—<i>Cincinnati Times-Star.</i></p> - -<hr class="tiny" /> - -<p class="center"> -<i>Illustrated.</i>     <i>12mo.</i>     <i>Cloth, $1.50</i></p> -<hr class="full" /> - -<p class="ph3">CADETS <i>of</i> GASCONY</p> - -<p class="center">TWO STORIES <i>of</i> OLD FRANCE</p> - -<hr class="tiny" /> - -<p>“‘Romance pure and simple’ ... and the<br /> -romance is served up in a delightfully<br /> -thrilling manner.”</p> - -<p class="right">—<i>Los Angeles Herald.</i></p> - -<hr class="tiny" /> - -<p class="center"><i>Illustrated by Anna Whelan Betts.</i><br /> -<i>12mo.</i>     <i>Cloth, $1.50</i></p> -<hr class="full" /> - -<p class="ph1">J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY</p> -<p class="center">PUBLISHERS         PHILADELPHIA</p> -</div></div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_0"></span> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_frontispiece.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">I WAS ASTONISHED TO SEE THAT HER FACE WAS SCARLET,<br /> -AND THAT SHE WAS STARING AT ME WITH STARTLED EYES</p> - -<p class="illoright"><i>Page <a href="#Page_42">42</a></i></p> -</div> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_title.jpg" alt="" /></div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<p class="ph2">THE PATH <i>of</i> HONOR</p> - -<p class="ph3">A Tale <i>of</i> the War in the Bocage</p> - -<p>BY<br /> -<span class="xlarge">BURTON E. STEVENSON</span><br /> -<br /> -AUTHOR OF<br /> -“AT ODDS WITH THE REGENT,” “CADETS OF GASCONY,”<br /> -“A SOLDIER OF VIRGINIA,” ETC.</p> - -<p><i>WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY</i><br /> - -OLIVE RUSH<br /> -AND<br /> -ETHEL PENNEWILL BROWN</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_titlelogo.jpg" alt="" /></div> - -<p><span class="large">PHILADELPHIA & LONDON<br /> -J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY<br /> -1910</span></p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center"> -<span class="smcap">Copyright, 1909, by Burton E. Stevenson</span><br /> -Under the title of “Tavernay”<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -<span class="smcap">Copyright, 1910, by J. B. Lippincott Company</span><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -Published September, 1910<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -<i>Printed by J. B. Lippincott Company<br /> -The Washington Square Press, Philadelphia, U.S.A.</i></p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="first">“For honour travels in a strait so narrow,</div> -<div class="verse">Where one but goes abreast: keep then the path.”</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verseright"><i>Troilus and Cressida</i></div> -</div></div></div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak">CONTENTS</h2> -</div> - -<table> - -<tr><td class="tdr"><span class="small">CHAP.</span></td><td class="tdr" colspan="2"><span class="small">PAGE</span></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">I.</td><td> <span class="smcap">The Trap of Sergeant Dubosq</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_11"> 11</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">II.</td><td> <span class="smcap">In an Enemy I Find a Friend</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_23"> 23</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">III.</td><td> <span class="smcap">I Fall into a Pleasant Bondage</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_40"> 40</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">IV.</td><td> <span class="smcap">A Scent of Danger</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_53"> 53</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">V.</td><td> <span class="smcap">I Make My Confession</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_69"> 69</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">VI.</td><td> <span class="smcap">Eve in the Garden</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_80"> 80</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">VII.</td><td> <span class="smcap">I Dare and Am Forgiven</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_91"> 91</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">VIII.</td><td> <span class="smcap">A Serpent in the Garden</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_99"> 99</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">IX.</td><td> <span class="smcap">Pasdeloup</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_109"> 109</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">X.</td><td> <span class="smcap">Bread upon the Waters</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_119"> 119</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XI.</td><td> <span class="smcap">At the Belle Image</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_130"> 130</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XII.</td><td> <span class="smcap">Madness Becomes Frenzy</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_141"> 141</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XIII.</td><td> <span class="smcap">The Unfolding of the Drama</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_151"> 151</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XIV.</td><td> <span class="smcap">A Better Man than I</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_163"> 163</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XV.</td><td> <span class="smcap">The End of Gabrielle’s Tower</span>    </td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_168"> 168</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XVI.</td><td> <span class="smcap">The Tragedy</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_174"> 174</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XVII.</td><td> <span class="smcap">I Take a Vow</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_184"> 184</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XVIII.</td><td> <span class="smcap">Circe’s Toilet</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_194"> 194</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XIX.</td><td> <span class="smcap">The First Venture</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_205"> 205</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XX.</td><td> <span class="smcap">A Dagger of Another Sort</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_218"> 218</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XXI.</td><td> <span class="smcap">False Pretenses</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_230"> 230</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XXII.</td><td> <span class="smcap">The Poniard Again</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_242"> 242</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XXIII.</td><td> <span class="smcap">Fortune Frowns</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_254"> 254</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XXIV.</td><td> <span class="smcap">The Dragon’s Den</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_267"> 267</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XXV.</td><td> <span class="smcap">In the Shadow</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_275"> 275</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XXVI.</td><td> “<span class="smcap">Courage</span>”</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_287"> 287</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XXVII.</td><td> <span class="smcap">The Path of Honor</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_296"> 296</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XXVIII.</td><td> <span class="smcap">The Guerdon</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_307"> 307</a></td></tr> - -</table> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak">ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> -</div> - -<table> -<tr><td class="tdr" colspan="2"><span class="small">PAGE</span></td></tr> - -<tr><td>I was astonished to see that her face was scarlet, -and that she was staring at me with startled eyes      </td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_0"> <i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>A sheet of livid flame leaped upward toward us, and -the tower swayed</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_162"> 162</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>As I looked back I saw a mob of men clambering -savagely over the rocks below</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_180"> 180</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>I strode to the door and flung it wide</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_266"> 266</a></td></tr> -</table> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span> - -<p class="ph2">THE PATH <i>of</i> HONOR</p> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER I.<br /> - -<span class="small">THE TRAP OF SERGEANT DUBOSQ.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dawn</span> was just breaking as I bade my fat little -host at the Beau Visage good-by and, leaving the -white streets of Tours behind me, crossed the -shallow river and turned my face southward on -the pleasant road to Poitiers.</p> - -<p>The morning was a perfect one, soft and warm, -with the shimmer of sunshine and the stirring of -green things over the earth; for spring had come -again to our fair land of Touraine, and I sat erect -in the saddle, drinking long draughts of the good -air, riotously, gloriously happy. For I was young, -heart-whole, care-free, and setting forth upon a -pilgrimage which would have given my father joy -had he been alive to know. Yes, and it was the -last morning of my life that I could apply to -myself those three adjectives—though I did not -suspect it then.</p> - -<p>The way was thronged with market-women -hastening toward the town, pushing their little -carts before them, their sabots clacking merrily -upon the hard, clean road, and their tongues clacking -more merrily still. They looked up, with -smiling countenances under their white caps, to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span> -wish me good-morning and God-speed, and more -than once I caught a flash of dark eyes in a fresh -and rosy face which sent through me a pang of -regret that I could not linger.</p> - -<p>The broad valley of the river seemed one continued -village, so closely were cottages and farmsteads -set; but as I pushed forward into the flat -country beyond, houses became less frequent, the -road grew more and more deserted, and the fields -stretched fallow and neglected to left and right -as far as the eye could reach. Here and -there, indeed, I caught a glimpse of a château -veiled by a screen of trees, but the land itself -seemed empty of humankind. There were no -flocks in the pastures, no peasants in the fields, -not a single plow driving a furrow through the -waiting soil.</p> - -<p>All of which, I told myself, was the bitter fruit -of the Revolution. No one would sow when there -was small likelihood of reaping; besides, the -<i>canaille</i> found it more amusing to jostle about -the streets of Paris, to shout for the Nation, and -to watch the guillotine at work. Ever since that -dusty battalion from Marseilles, with its red bonnets -and furious faces, had marched up to Paris, -singing its terrifying hymn, others, large and small, -had followed, until it seemed that all France was -crowding to the capital. When hunger gnawed -there was always Citizen Santerre, offering refreshment -to every one under certain easy conditions; -there was work on the fortifications, or -enlistment in the National Guard; and finally of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span> -course, food might be stolen, if too difficult to -earn. Or as a last resort information against -one’s neighbor might be laid before the Committee -of Public Safety, and a reward secured.</p> - -<p>I thanked God that we of Touraine had not -yet been caught in the eddies of that maelstrom. -Danton had been too busy at home to cast his -eyes in our direction, and if our peasants ran -away it was at least without leaving behind them -blackened walls and outraged bodies. So we had -lived our lives in peace, undisturbed by massacres, -by the worship of Reason, or by that grim machine -which toiled so ceaselessly upon the Place de la -Révolution.</p> - -<p>But as I topped a rise in the road, I saw -that the instruments of war at least had at last -invaded even this peaceful country. Under a tree -by the roadside a group of soldiers were sitting, -and it needed no second glance to tell me they -were Republicans. They were lolling about, talking -idly among themselves; only their officer was -on his feet, but he was watching the road intently -and the instant his eyes met mine he uttered a -sharp command. In a breath his men had sprung -to arms and deployed across the road.</p> - -<p>I was a peaceful traveller, intent on my own -business; so telling myself that I had nothing to -fear from even the most rabid of Revolutionists, -I continued on without hesitating. It could not -be for such a small and inoffensive fish as I that -a net so elaborate had been spread.</p> - -<p>“Halt, citizen!” called the officer, as I came<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span> -up. “I must ask you to dismount,” he added, -looking at me with eyes of extraordinary brilliancy.</p> - -<p>“Willingly,” I replied, “if one of your men -will hold my horse;” but two of them had him -by the bridle before the words were fully uttered.</p> - -<p>“Now, citizen,” continued the officer, urbanely, -as I sprang from the saddle and faced him, “there -are a few questions which I shall have to ask you. -But the sun is warm, and to stand is fatiguing, -so let us sit down together in the shade of that -tree yonder.”</p> - -<p>“Very well,” I assented, and followed him to -a spot where we were defended not only from the -rays of sun but also from the curious ears of the -soldiers of the detachment, which still held its -position across the road.</p> - -<p>My companion paused a moment to look at me -before he began his questioning, and gave me in -turn the opportunity to examine him. He was a -tall, raw-boned man, evidently of enormous -strength. His face was roughened by wind and -rain and burned to a deep red by the sun. A -ferocious mustache shaded mouth and chin, and -his eyes gleamed behind their bushy brows like -those of a beast in ambush. His hair was streaked -with gray, but I judged not so much from age,—for -his whole being was instinct with fire and -vigor,—as from the appalling scenes in which he -had played a part. He embodied for me at that -moment the very spirit of the Revolution, irate, -implacable, but with a certain rude sense of honor -and of justice and a confused belief that its cause<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span> -was in some way bound up with human rights and -human progress.</p> - -<p>“Come, citizen,” he began at last, “your -name?”</p> - -<p>“Jean Tavernay,” I answered, deeming it wise -to omit the preposition.</p> - -<p>“Your home?”</p> - -<p>“Near Beaufort.”</p> - -<p>“Your destination?”</p> - -<p>“Poitiers.”</p> - -<p>“Your business?”</p> - -<p>I hesitated.</p> - -<p>“A private matter,” I said finally.</p> - -<p>He frowned fiercely.</p> - -<p>“The Republic has the right to know!” he said, -in a formidable voice.</p> - -<p>“This is not a thing which in any way concerns -the Republic. It concerns only myself.”</p> - -<p>“That is for me to judge. Besides, the business -of the Republic is that of each of its citizens. -Will you answer?”</p> - -<p>I have,—I may as well confess at once what -the reader must soon discover,—concealed under -an exterior the most ordinary, a vein of obstinacy -which has often impelled me to deeds the most -foolish. It was so now. A hesitancy which had -its origin in boyish shyness crystallized suddenly -into sullen determination.</p> - -<p>“Come,” repeated my questioner even more -fiercely, “will you answer?”</p> - -<p>“No!” I said bluntly, and nerved myself for -what might follow.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span>Then I began to suspect that this dragon, like -that of Rouen, was ferocious only in appearance, -for he contented himself with gnawing at his -mustache and looking at me darkly.</p> - -<p>“How am I to know you are not a <i>ci-devant</i>?” -he rasped out at last. “A traitor, a conspirator -against the Nation, a scoundrel upon whose head -a price has been set?”</p> - -<p>“Merely by looking at me, my friend,” I retorted, -and smiled at the thought that I, whose -whole life had passed peacefully at Beaufort, could -be any of those things.</p> - -<p>I cannot say that he actually smiled in answer, -but his face certainly relaxed.</p> - -<p>“When did you leave Beaufort?” he questioned, -in a milder tone.</p> - -<p>“Yesterday morning.”</p> - -<p>“And last night?”</p> - -<p>“I spent at Tours.”</p> - -<p>“What inn?”</p> - -<p>“The Beau Visage.”</p> - -<p>“The landlord’s name?”</p> - -<p>“Triboulet.”</p> - -<p>“His appearance?”</p> - -<p>“Short and fat, a red face, eyes like gimlets, -and a head as bald as an egg.”</p> - -<p>My captor nodded.</p> - -<p>“That’s Triboulet,” he said. “A fine fellow.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” I agreed; “and his wife——”</p> - -<p>My captor smacked his lips.</p> - -<p>“She made you an omelet?”</p> - -<p>“The best I ever ate.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span>“She is famous for that,” he said, and looked -at me again, pulling pensively at his mustache.</p> - -<p>“Come, citizen,” he added, and this time he -really smiled, “it is evident that you are not the -game I am after.”</p> - -<p>“I should hope so,” I agreed.</p> - -<p>“I am looking for a wolf, not for a mouse.”</p> - -<p>“At least I am not a wolf,” I conceded.</p> - -<p>“Old Dubosq has seen too much of the world -to be mistaken in a matter so clear as this,” he -continued, throwing out his chest. “A conspirator? -Bah! You don’t know its meaning. You’re -too pink and white—too much of the nursery—its -odor clings to you! Why, infant, you’ve never -before been away from your mother!”</p> - -<p>I flushed, and he burst into a roar of laughter -as he saw my face.</p> - -<p>“A hit!” he cried. “Ah, citizen, would I -could blush like that! But for Dubosq that day -is past and far away. Come, my friend, all you -need is a little knowledge of the world to be a -perfect devil with the ladies. Join my troop and -let Dubosq finish you, polish you, give you the -true air. Come; it shall be my revenge.”</p> - -<p>“Your revenge?”</p> - -<p>“Against the women. They have made me -suffer and have laughed. A month ago I won my -promotion, but a petticoat intervened, and the -reward which should have been mine passed to -another. Some day I will tell you——”</p> - -<p>A shout from his men interrupted him.</p> - -<p>We sprang to our feet and saw, just topping<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span> -the rise in the road, another rider. He drew short -up at the shout and at sight of the guard barring -his passage. Then he wheeled sharp around as -though to retreat, but again stopped.</p> - -<p>Dubosq chuckled.</p> - -<p>“Caught!” he cried.</p> - -<p>“But why doesn’t he go back?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“Because, my child, there’s another detachment -across the road down yonder, as you would have -seen had you looked around.” He drew a pistol -from his belt and fired it in the air. “That will -bring them on,” he added. “Now, citizen, you -will see the trap close—the trap of Sergeant -Dubosq. Advance, men! Bring him down if he -attempts to escape.”</p> - -<p>The Blues began to advance slowly, their guns -presented.</p> - -<p>“Hold your horse, citizen,” said Dubosq, “and -wait here for me. I have something more to say to -you;” and he set off after his men.</p> - -<p>The fugitive looked about him again. He was -fairly caught between two fires. In a moment he -must surrender, covered by twenty muskets. But -he did not wait for that moment. Instead he put -his horse at the ditch, leaped it, and made off -across the fields.</p> - -<p>“Fire!” yelled Dubosq. “Fire!”</p> - -<p>A volley of shots rang out, echoed by another -from up the road, and my heart rejoiced as -I saw the fugitive keep on unharmed. But only -for an instant. His horse bounded twice, then -staggered and fell headlong.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span>The Blues gave a yell of triumph, leaped the -ditch and started after their quarry, spreading -fan-wise so that he could not escape. But he -sprang from the saddle even as his horse fell, and -ran with surprising speed toward a cluster of trees -just ahead. In a moment he had disappeared -among them.</p> - -<p>I watched until his pursuers reached the grove -and plunged into it; then I tied my horse to the -tree and resumed my seat beneath its branches, -for I was curious to see the end of this encounter. -My sympathies were wholly with the fugitive. -Whatever his offense, so gallant a dash for liberty -deserved to be successful. And yet he could -scarcely hope to escape with twenty men at his -heels.</p> - -<p>Once a chorus of frantic yells came to me from -the grove, and I thought for a time that the chase -was ended. But the moments passed, and I saw no -sign of either the fugitive or his pursuers. Perhaps -he had eluded them after all; or perhaps they -were pushing across the country after him. In -either event it was useless for me to tarry longer; -it was time for me to be getting forward if I -wished to reach Châtellerault, as I had planned, -by nightfall. Only I should have liked to say -good-by to Sergeant Dubosq. There was about -the man a fascination, an air of deviltry, that -pleased me. Perhaps at another time I might even -have found myself listening to his words, but -now——</p> - -<p>“Sit still, monsieur,” said a low voice just<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span> -behind me; and I started round to find myself -looking down the long barrel of a pistol above -which gleamed two eyes, blue and cold as steel. -“I was moved to shoot you,” he went on evenly, -“as the shortest way out; but after all I am not a -murderer. I will give you one chance. I must -have your horse. Give me your word of honor -to sit there quietly, and you are safe; refuse,”—and -he made a menacing little motion with his -pistol.</p> - -<p>There could be no doubting his earnestness. -One glance at that resolute countenance convinced -me that its owner would not hesitate to carry out -his threat. But to lose my horse——</p> - -<p>“Come,” he said; “decide quickly. Faith, the -choice ought not to be difficult;” and he laughed -grimly.</p> - -<p>“Take the horse, monsieur,” I said, in a voice -trembling with rage and chagrin. “But my hour -will come!”</p> - -<p>He laughed again, put up his pistol, and came -out upon the road.</p> - -<p>As I watched him untie my horse, I realized -suddenly all that this loss would mean to me, and a -blind impulse seized me to rush upon him and -run him through. I think I must have yielded to -it, in spite of my passed word, had he not seemed -to trust it so implicitly. For he even turned his -back to me as he bent to adjust the stirrups.</p> - -<p>He seemed in no haste—indeed, I was apparently -far more excited than he—and I had time to -admire the erect figure, the easy carriage, the grace<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span> -of movement. Dubosq had spoken truly when he -had pointed out that no one could mistake me for -this finished cavalier. He sprang to the saddle -with superb unconcern and paused for a look about -him. He was even humming a song.</p> - -<p>“Ah, there they come,” he said, and following -his eye, I saw Dubosq and his men burst from the -grove and come charging across the field. “At -last they have discovered how I eluded them! -Blockheads! Adieu, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“Till we meet again,” I corrected.</p> - -<p>He laughed blithely.</p> - -<p>“As you will,” he said, and gathered up the -reins. “Whither are you bound?” he added, turning -back to me.</p> - -<p>“To Poitiers,” I answered.</p> - -<p>“Then we may indeed meet again;” and waving -his hand to his enemies, who by this time were -very near, he set spur to flank and galloped away -down the road.</p> - -<p>A shower of bullets followed him, but he kept -on apparently unhurt, and in a moment more was -out of gunshot.</p> - -<p>Dubosq came panting up, his men at his heels. -He was fairly livid. He stopped for an instant -to shake his fist at the cloud of dust far down the -road. Then he turned to me.</p> - -<p>“Traitor!” he cried, hoarsely. “Aristocrat!” -And I saw how the great veins stood out across -his forehead. “So you had the effrontery to wait -for me!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span>“Assuredly,” I replied, as calmly as I could, -“since you requested it.”</p> - -<p>He glared at me for a moment with bloodshot -eyes. Then he turned to his men.</p> - -<p>“Secure him!” he said. “We will let him -espouse Madame Guillotine.”</p> - -<p>And before I could open my lips to protest, my -hands were lashed behind me.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER II.<br /> - -<span class="small">IN AN ENEMY I FIND A FRIEND.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">For</span> an instant I was too astonished to resist; -then the indignity of it—the indignity of the -strong and cruel hands which seized and held me—swept -over me like flame, and I shook off my assailants -and faced Dubosq.</p> - -<p>“Loose me!” I cried, struggling furiously -with my bonds. “Loose me! I demand that you -loose me!”</p> - -<p>Dubosq laughed sardonically.</p> - -<p>“At your service,” he sneered. “Any other -orders?”</p> - -<p>I realized how impotent I was, and the knowledge -struck chill to my heart. Dubosq could stand -me up at the side of the road and order me shot, -and no one would question or protest. He had -only to give the word. I felt as the wild beast -feels caught in a sudden trap.</p> - -<p>“But this is an outrage!” I protested thickly, -striving to still the trembling of my lips; for I was -young—remember always, my reader, that I was -young and new to the world.</p> - -<p>Dubosq stood regarding me, gnawing his mustache -savagely. I dare say the trembling lip did -not escape him.</p> - -<p>“Outrage or not,” he growled, “you are under -arrest, citizen.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span>“And for what?” I demanded.</p> - -<p>“As an accomplice of the <i>ci-devant</i> Favras.”</p> - -<p>My astonishment was so overwhelming that even -he discerned it.</p> - -<p>“Of course you are innocent,” he sneered.</p> - -<p>“Citizen Dubosq,” I said slowly, “I give you -my word of honor that I have never before even -heard of the person you mention. As for being -his accomplice, that is too absurd to discuss.”</p> - -<p>“It is strange, then,” commented Dubosq, -grimly, “that you should have been so complaisant -as to permit him to ride away upon your -horse. But no doubt you have an explanation. -There is always an explanation.”</p> - -<p>“Oh!” I cried, understanding suddenly and -looking down the empty road. “So that was the -<i>ci-devant</i> Favras! I am glad to know his name, -for I have an account to settle with him. So far -from permitting him to take the horse, I had an -impulse to murder him.”</p> - -<p>“And why did you not?” Dubosq demanded. -“That would at least have saved your own neck.”</p> - -<p>“I had given him my word,” I explained, and -related the dilemma in which I had found myself. -“But even then,” I concluded, “I would have -killed him had he not turned his back.”</p> - -<p>Dubosq listened, looking at me keenly. At the -last words he nodded, almost imperceptibly, as -though he understood. Then he glanced moodily -away across the field.</p> - -<p>I followed his eyes and saw approaching us<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span> -from the grove two men bearing the body of a -third.</p> - -<p>“Is that his work?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Dubosq; and fell silent until the -bearers reached the road and placed the body on -the grass beneath the tree. I saw with a shudder -that the man had been stabbed in the back.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” repeated Dubosq fiercely, “that is his -work. He crept upon him from behind and struck -him down. He did not hesitate because his victim’s -back was turned. Oh, these traitors, these -aristocrats, with their talk of honor!” and he -shook his clenched fists above his head.</p> - -<p>“But how did he escape?” I queried, for even -yet I did not understand.</p> - -<p>“How did he escape?” yelled Dubosq, his face -purple. “He escaped because his wits are better -than ours. There is that to be said for the aristocrats—their -wits are better than ours, clods that -we are! He murdered this man——”</p> - -<p>“Not murder, citizen,” I interrupted. “Not -that—self-defense.”</p> - -<p>“Self-defense!” roared Dubosq. “In the back? -Murder, I say! Then shielding himself in that -ditch yonder, he worked his way back to the road, -mounted your horse and was off, while we were -blundering around in that little grove. I should -have thought of the ditch;” and he stood glowering -at it. “I did—too late! I disgust myself!”</p> - -<p>“And I suffer in consequence,” I added. -“Come, my friend, confess that you believe my -story. Look at me. I am no conspirator—in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span> -your heart you know it. If I had been the friend -of that fellow, I would have ridden away behind -him; certainly I should not have remained here -waiting for your return. To revenge yourself on -me because your trap has failed—that is unworthy -of you. Besides I have suffered enough already—and -for no fault.”</p> - -<p>He looked at me for a moment, and his face -softened. I saw that the storm was over.</p> - -<p>“I believe you, citizen,” he said; “you are free,” -and he whipped out his knife and cut my bonds.</p> - -<p>For thanks I held out my hand and he gripped it -warmly.</p> - -<p>“Come,” he urged, “join my troop, pin on the -tri-color, and I will make a man of you.”</p> - -<p>But I shook my head.</p> - -<p>“No, my friend,” I said, “an errand of honor -calls me to Poitiers.”</p> - -<p>He looked at me with renewed suspicion.</p> - -<p>“Which reminds me,” he added, “that you have -not yet told me the nature of that errand.”</p> - -<p>“I will tell you,” I said, “as a friend;” and I -whispered a swift sentence in his ear.</p> - -<p>He burst out laughing, his good humor restored -in an instant.</p> - -<p>“Well, go your way,” he said, slapping me on -the shoulder, “and good luck go with you. At -the fête, citizen, drink a health to old Dubosq. As -for me, I have the pleasant duty of burying my -dead, and reporting to my superiors that I am a -fool and that the trap is empty;” and he glowered<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span> -angrily down the road, his mustache drooping -dismally.</p> - -<p>“Your turn will come,” I urged. “Or if not -yours, mine—of that I am certain.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he agreed, with a growl, “I will yet -get my hands on him, and when I do, he will have -reason to remember it. Adieu, citizen,” he added. -“My compliments to the lady. Come, my children, -march!” And he and his soldiers set off toward -Tours, bearing their dead with them.</p> - -<p>I watched them for a few moments with something -like regret. After all, Dubosq had spoken -truly. I had seen little of the world, and he had -offered me a chance to see more in gallant company. -I could not but admit that he would have -made an admirable guide and companion. If his -cockade were only white! But even then I could -not have followed him. For I was not free—another -duty lay before me. Would I ever be -free, I wondered—free to march away whither I -listed, to live a man’s life and grow to man’s -stature? Or would I always be tied to some -woman’s petticoat, imprisoned in a trivial round -of daily duties, as were so many men? Was I on -this journey simply exchanging one petticoat for -another?</p> - -<p>With such thoughts for companions,—surely less -pleasant than Dubosq!—I turned my face again to -the south, and strode along with such speed as my -legs could compass. I am not fond of foot-exercise, -and it was not at all in this ridiculous fashion -that I had thought to make the journey to Poitiers.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span> -Besides there was need that my entry into that city -should be made with a certain dignity, and I knew -well that the whole contents of my purse would -not purchase a new horse, to say nothing of a -new equipment.</p> - -<p>For the horse was not all that I had lost. In -the holsters of the saddle was a pair of handsome -pistols which had belonged to my father, and in -the portmanteau strapped behind it an array of -gallant clothing such as I had never possessed -before, and would in all likelihood never again -possess. As to replenishing my purse, I remembered -only too acutely how my mother had pinched -herself for months to provide me with this outfit. -No, decidedly, to repair this misfortune I had only -my own prowess to depend upon, and I am free to -say that it was not of a quality greatly to enhearten -me. Certainly my first adventure in the -world had ended most disastrously.</p> - -<p>So I trudged on, looking neither to the right nor -to the left, turning my misfortune over in my -mind, and recalling the good points of my horse,—a -friend and companion almost since my boyhood,—the -comfort of my saddle, and the beauties -of my wardrobe, as a starving man will picture -to himself the savory details of some banquet he -has enjoyed in happier days. And I almost found -it in my heart to regret that I had not struck the -robber down in that moment when he had dared to -turn his back upon me.</p> - -<p>There were few people on the road, but such as -I met stared at me curiously, evidently unable to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span> -understand how it was that a young fellow so -gallantly arrayed should be footing it through the -dust with sour countenance. This of course served -only to increase my spleen, and ended in my pulling -my hat over my eyes and trudging on without -glancing up, even at the rustle of a petticoat. I -know not how great a distance I covered in this -fashion, but at last the sun, rising high in the -heavens, beat down upon me with such ardor that -my head began to swim dizzily. I looked about -for shelter, and seeing just ahead of me a little -cluster of mean houses, hastened my steps in the -hope that there might be an inn among them.</p> - -<p>So indeed there proved to be. But when I -came to the threshold of the low, ill-smelling room, -dark almost as a dungeon even in full day, I hesitated, -for I was armed only with sword and dagger -and it was impossible to see what lay within. -Decidedly I had no wish to risk my purse, and -perhaps my life as well, for the sake of a bottle -of bad wine.</p> - -<p>But a gay voice encouraged me.</p> - -<p>“Enter, monsieur,” it called. “I was awaiting -you.”</p> - -<p>And as my eyes grew somewhat accustomed to -the darkness, I descried, seated at a table in one -corner, my enemy, my despoiler, smiling at me as -though he were my dearest friend.</p> - -<p>“Come,” he added, “join me;” and such was -the wizardry of his voice and the gesture which -accompanied it, that whatever my reluctance, I -could not but obey.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span>“What is your name, monsieur?” he asked, as -I took the seat opposite his; and he smiled again as -he caught my glance.</p> - -<p>“Jean de Tavernay,” I answered; “and, monsieur, -I have to say to you——”</p> - -<p>“One moment,” he broke in, holding up his -hand. “My name perhaps you have already -heard?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, if you are who the Republicans said you -were.”</p> - -<p>“And that was?”</p> - -<p>“One M. de Favras.”</p> - -<p>“They are not at your heels?”</p> - -<p>“No, they returned to Tours.”</p> - -<p>“Disappointed?”</p> - -<p>“Extremely so.”</p> - -<p>He laughed, then grew suddenly sober and -knitted his brows in thought, which I somehow -dared not interrupt. After all, there was no cause -for haste. He could not escape me.</p> - -<p>“It looked like a trap,” he said, at last.</p> - -<p>“It was a trap,” I assured him.</p> - -<p>“And set for me?”</p> - -<p>“I believe so.”</p> - -<p>He pondered this a moment longer, then put it -from him.</p> - -<p>“No matter,” he said. “Why waste thought on -a trap from which one has escaped? And now, -M. de Tavernay, to your affair. I see the words -which are trembling on your lips; I read the -thought which is passing in your mind. You -would say that I have not used you as one gentleman<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span> -uses another. I admit it. You are thinking -that now you will revenge yourself. I do not -blame you. I owe you an apology for treating -you in the fashion that I did. But it was with -me a question of life or death. I had no alternative. -And I assure you,” he added, smiling grimly, -“I should not have hesitated to kill you had you -chosen to resist. I gave you a chance for your -life merely because I saw that you were not a -Republican, but a traveller like myself. Had you -worn the tri-color, nothing would have saved you.”</p> - -<p>“All of which I saw in your eyes, monsieur,” I -said. “It was for that reason I did not resist.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” he asked, looking at me, “which is it, -monsieur—an apology and this bottle of wine, or -our swords back of the cabaret? For myself, I -hope it is the former. But it is for you to choose.”</p> - -<p>There was a kindness in his tone not to be resisted, -an authority in his glance and in the expression -of his face which bore in upon me anew my -own youth and inexperience.</p> - -<p>“The wine, monsieur,” I said. “The other -would be folly.”</p> - -<p>He nodded and filled our glasses, then raised his -to his lips.</p> - -<p>“To our better acquaintance,” he said, and we -drank the toast. I was beginning to wonder how -I had ever been so blind as to think this man an -enemy.</p> - -<p>“There was one moment,” I confessed, “when -you were in some danger.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span>“I saw it,” he said quietly. “It was for that -reason I turned my back to you.”</p> - -<p>I stared at him in amazement.</p> - -<p>“To help you overcome temptation,” he explained. -“One gentleman does not break his -word by stabbing another in the back.”</p> - -<p>A warm flush of pleasure sprang to my cheeks. -Then a sudden vision rose before me of a limp -body in Republican uniform——</p> - -<p>“But you——” I stopped, confused, conscious -that I was uttering my thought aloud, and that the -thought was not a pleasant one.</p> - -<p>“Ah,” he went on, smiling sadly, “you would -say that I stabbed that poor fellow in the back. -Believe me, monsieur, I should have preferred a -thousand times to meet him face to face. But I -had no choice. A moment’s delay, and I should -have been taken. So I hardened my heart and -struck.”</p> - -<p>“Pardon me, monsieur,” I murmured.</p> - -<p>He nodded, the shadow still on his face.</p> - -<p>“Fortune of war,” he said, with affected lightness. -“We must make the best of it. And now, -M. de Tavernay,” he added, rising, “you will find -your horse awaiting you outside yonder door, as -fresh as when you started with him from Tours. -I have secured another in a less peremptory way -than I found necessary to adopt with you. It is -foolhardy for me to linger here. I must push on -at once. But you may be weary, you may wish to -avoid the heat of the day; you may, in a word, -prefer to continue your journey alone and at your<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span> -leisure. If so, farewell; but if you are ready to -go on, I assure you that I shall be very glad of -your company.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, monsieur,” I said, my decision -taken on the instant. “I am quite ready to go.”</p> - -<p>“Good! come then,” and throwing a gold-piece -on the table he started toward the door.</p> - -<p>Not until that instant did I remember that the -inn must have a keeper, and that the keeper would -have ears, which he had no doubt kept wide open -during all this talk. I looked around for him, and -as though guessing my thought, he shambled -slowly forward from a dark corner—as ill-favored -a villain as I ever saw.</p> - -<p>“Is there anything else monsieur wishes?” he -asked, looking at me with a glance so venomous -that I recoiled as though a snake had struck at me.</p> - -<p>“No,” I stammered, “except to tell you that -there is your money.”</p> - -<p>He picked up the coin without a word and spun -it in his hand, while I hastened after my companion, -anxious to escape from that sinister place -into the clear day. I found him awaiting me just -outside the door.</p> - -<p>“Our horses will be here in a moment,” he said. -“I have sent for them.”</p> - -<p>“I shall breathe more freely when I am in the -saddle and well away from here,” I answered. -“There is a fellow back yonder who is longing -to assassinate both of us.”</p> - -<p>“Our host?” and he laughed lightly. “I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span> -noticed him. He is like all the others—they would -all jump to assassinate us, if they dared.”</p> - -<p>“This one looked particularly wolfish.”</p> - -<p>“They are all wolfish, and like the wolf arrant -cowards, save when they hunt in pack.”</p> - -<p>“But if he overheard?”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps we were a little indiscreet,” he agreed, -sober for an instant. “But one peril more or less—what -does it matter?” he added, with a shrug. -“Here are the horses. Permit me to return you -yours, with apologies and thanks.”</p> - -<p>“I am rejoiced to get him back,” I said, patting -his nose.</p> - -<p>“The pleasure seems to be mutual,” observed -my companion; and indeed there was no mistaking -the joy in the eyes of my old friend. “You would -better look over your belongings,” he added. -“There are thieves about.”</p> - -<p>But I found that nothing had been disturbed. -My pistols were in their holsters, and my portmanteau -was still strapped behind the saddle.</p> - -<p>“Then let us be off,” said M. de Favras.</p> - -<p>Not until we were well out of the village and -cantering briskly toward the south with a clear -road behind us, did I feel at ease. Then I took -my chin from my shoulder and directed an admiring -gaze at my companion—would I ever acquire -such an air? He caught my glance and smiled.</p> - -<p>“Where had you intended spending the night, -M. de Tavernay?” he inquired.</p> - -<p>“At Châtellerault,” I said.</p> - -<p>“But you cannot hope to reach Châtellerault<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span> -to-day,” he protested, “after the delay which I -have caused you. You must be my guest to-night. -My château is just beyond Dange. I will see you -on your way at daybreak to-morrow, and you can -reach Poitiers with ease by sunset. I hope you will -accept, my friend,” he went on, seeing that I hesitated, -“if only that I may feel you have wholly -forgiven me. Besides,” he added, with an air of -finality, “it is folly to travel unattended in this -country after nightfall. It is overrun with brigands -who shout for liberty, equality, fraternity, only -to conceal their crimes.”</p> - -<p>Truth to tell, I needed no urging. I tried to -stammer something of the pleasure the invitation -gave me, but he stopped me with a kind little wave -of the hand.</p> - -<p>“For the past month I have been in the Bocage,” -he went on, when that was settled. “Ah, if you -would see true heroism, my friend, you must go -there. A devoted people, fighting for their homes -and for their faith, under leaders the most heroic -that army ever had. It is against those peasants -of La Vendée that this cursed carnival of slaughter -will wreck itself.”</p> - -<p>His face was alight with enthusiasm, his eyes -shining with deep emotion.</p> - -<p>“They are carrying all before them,” he went -on, more calmly. “To-day, they are mere scattered -peasants, working in their fields. To-morrow, -they are an army of fifty thousand, springing from -the very ground to smite the enemy. They shoot -him down from behind their hedges, they put him<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span> -to the sword, they send him staggering back to his -barracks, all but annihilated. Then the next day, -if there is no more fighting, they are back again -with their flocks and herds. It recalls that golden -age of Greece when every man was eager to give -his life for his country.”</p> - -<p>“But surely,” I objected, “trained troops should -be able easily to stand against them.”</p> - -<p>“They have not yet done so,” he retorted. -“We have taken Les Herbiers, Montaigu, Chantonnay, -Cholet and Vihiers, one after the other, -like shaking ripe plums from a tree. After all, -victory depends not so much upon organization or -generalship, or even numbers, as upon the spirit of -the men themselves. The army which goes into a -battle with each individual unit of it bent on -victory wins the victory. The army which fights -half-heartedly loses. That is the history of every -battle. The people of the Bocage are fighting for -their homes and their religion—their souls are in -the conflict, and they will never admit themselves -defeated until the last man has been slain. Within -a month the Blues will have been driven completely -from Vendée, and the King will reign there;” and -at the words he crossed himself. “‘God and the -King’ is our watchword.”</p> - -<p>He saw the question in the glance I turned upon -him.</p> - -<p>“You are wondering,” he said, “why at such a -time I should have left the army. Two nights -since I received a message that my wife was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span> -dangerously ill—dying even. The army will be -victorious without me—but my wife——”</p> - -<p>He stopped. I understood and nodded gently.</p> - -<p>“Only that could have brought me away,” he -added—“the certainty that she needed me. I -started at once but found the Blues in force at -Coulonges. I attempted to turn aside and at once -lost my way amid the innumerable and abominable -roads with which that country is cursed. I was -forced finally to ride on to Chinon and then along -the Loire, for it seemed as though every road was -blocked by the enemy. I should have reached the -château last night, and behold me only this far;” -and he pricked his horse savagely and galloped -forward.</p> - -<p>I followed, and for a time we held the pace -without exchanging a word, he busy with his own -thoughts, and I wrapped in contemplation of the -marvellous turn of fortune which had not only -restored me all that I had lost, but which had also -given me the friendship of a man like this. I -looked at him from time to time, admiring more -than ever the fine face and graceful figure. He -was, I judged, not over thirty; but there was -something in the glance of his eye, in the set of -his lips, which told me that he had played his -part in the world for many years. Perhaps the -time was at hand when I should play my part, too.</p> - -<p>At last we drew rein to give our horses breath, -and my companion pointed out to me some of the -features of the country. To our right was the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span> -gentle valley of the Vienne, and finally we dipped -into it and crossed the river at a ford.</p> - -<p>“Now I am at home,” he said, looking about -with a smile of pleasure. “But in this case home -is not without its dangers, for I may be recognized -at any turn, and the adventure of this morning -warns me to be careful. At the village, there may -even be another detachment of Republicans. So -I think it would be wise to turn aside and take -that path yonder, by which we shall not only avoid -the town but come directly to my estate.”</p> - -<p>“Very well, monsieur,” I agreed; and in another -moment we had plunged among the trees.</p> - -<p>The soft earth of the wood, with its carpet of -leaves, deadened the sound of our horses’ hoofs -and we went on silently among the shadows for -some time. Then we turned abruptly to the left, -the wood opened, and again I saw the river gleaming -before us.</p> - -<p>“There is the château,” he said suddenly, and -following his gesture I saw a lofty tower rising -above the trees. “That tower,” he added, smiling, -“is my heritage from an amorous ancestor, who -built it some hundreds of years ago to shelter a -fair lady, whom a rival coveted. The tower was -designed to withstand attack—and did withstand -it—so the lady remained in our family and helped -perpetuate it. That brave Marquis de Favras, -who died so gallantly on the Place de Grève two -years ago, belonged to that branch; so you see we -have no reason to be ashamed of it, however -irregular its origin. There is the modern wing,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span> -he added, as we came out suddenly upon the road, -“built by my father.”</p> - -<p>It was a handsome building of white stone, -and as we approached it I saw two ladies strolling -upon the terrace which ran across its front. At the -gate, a man, swart and heavy-set, stood for a -moment eyeing us.</p> - -<p>“Ah, Pasdeloup!” cried my companion; and -at the word the man sprang to the gate and threw -it back with a clang, his face beaming. “Alert -as ever!” added his master, waved his hand to -him and galloped past, while the other gazed -after him with something very like adoration transfiguring -his rough countenance.</p> - -<p>At the sound of our horses’ hoofs upon the -gravelled road, the ladies turned and looked toward -us. Then one of them flew down the steps, her -hands outstretched, her face alight.</p> - -<p>“Madame!” cried my companion. “Madame!” -and he threw himself from his horse and -caught her to his heart.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER III.<br /> - -<span class="small">I FALL INTO A PLEASANT BONDAGE.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Then</span> you are not ill?” my friend was saying, -as I dismounted and drew near. “You are not -dying? Thank God for that!”</p> - -<p>“Ill?” echoed the lady. “Dying? Nonsense! -Look at me!”</p> - -<p>“You are adorable!” he cried, and kissed the -hands he held in his.</p> - -<p>“Sad I have been,” she went on, blushing but -still gazing fondly up at him. “That was because -you were away from me, in danger yonder. Yet -I tried to be brave, for I knew that you were -serving your country and that you would not forget -me.”</p> - -<p>“Forget you!” he repeated; and my own heart -warmed in sympathy as he gazed down at her, his -eyes alight. Ah, here was no match prearranged -no marriage of convenience, but a true mating. -So true that there could be about it no false pride, -no dissimulation or pretense of indifference; so -true that it was still the lover talking to his -mistress, as well as the husband talking to his -wife.</p> - -<p>I know it is the custom in certain circles in the -great cities to sneer at all this—to seek love anywhere -but in the family circle; but we of the provinces -are not like that. Do not think it. We live<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span> -closer to the heart of things—closer to nature, -closer to each other, closer to the good God—and -I think we are sounder at core.</p> - -<p>“But I had a message saying you were ill,” he -continued. “You did not send it, then?”</p> - -<p>“No; but I bless the sender since it has brought -you back to me.”</p> - -<p>“And not alone,” he added, remembering my -presence. “Permit me to present to you, madame, -M. de Tavernay. I began by stealing his horse -and ended by gaining his friendship. Be kind to -him. Monsieur, this is my wife, Madame la -Comtesse de Favras.”</p> - -<p>She held out her hand to me with a charming -smile, but her eyes and thoughts were only for her -husband, nor could I find it in my heart to blame -her, for, beside him, I was so crude, so ordinary, -worth scarcely a passing glance. Indeed, I was -myself somewhat confused at the revelation of my -friend’s distinguished title and bowed over her -hand awkwardly enough.</p> - -<p>“You are welcome, monsieur,” she said. “At -dinner we must hear the story of these adventures. -You have no doubt been all day in the saddle—you -need rest, refreshment. Come—but first you -must meet my guest;” and she led the way toward -the terrace where her companion awaited us.</p> - -<p>“What fortune!” cried M. le Comte, as he -sprang up the steps, and in another moment he -was kissing the cheek of a lady, young, divinely -fair, as I saw in the single glance I dared take at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span> -her, who blushed most becomingly as she received -his salute.</p> - -<p>“My dear,” he added, “this is M. de Tavernay. -I have already asked Madame la Comtesse to be -kind to him. With you, I can only beg that you -will not be cruel. M. de Tavernay, this is Mlle. de -Chambray, who permits you to kiss her hand.”</p> - -<p>As I bowed before her and touched her fingers -with lips not wholly steady, I was suddenly conscious -of the dust and travel-stains which covered -me, head to foot. She would think me ridiculous, -no doubt; but when I summoned courage to glance -up at her, I was astonished to see that her face was -scarlet, and that she was staring at me with -startled eyes. Then she withdrew her hand and -turned hastily away, her shoulders shaking convulsively, -and I felt my own cheeks grow red.</p> - -<p>Luckily our friends were too engrossed in each -other to perceive this bit of comedy—or perhaps -tragedy would, from my standpoint, be the better -word. A moment later, my ears still burning, I -stalked stiffly away after the man to whom I had -been entrusted, through a vestibule, up a wide -flight of stairs, and into a spacious room overlooking -the gardens at the back of the house.</p> - -<p>“Dinner is at eight,” said the man. “If there -is anything monsieur requires he will ring the -bell yonder;” and after unstrapping my portmanteau -and glancing around to assure himself -that everything was right, he left the room and -closed the door behind him.</p> - -<p>The instant I was alone, dignity and self-control<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span> -fell from me like a mantle, and flinging myself -into a chair, I stared blindly out through the open -window. The garden was a formal one in the -Italian style, not large, but elegantly planned, and -sloping gently to the margin of the river, which -seemed here both broad and deep. Beyond it was -a tangle of trees and shrubbery, and farther away, -upon the side of a little hill, were the white houses -of a village, their windows bright with the rays -of the setting sun.</p> - -<p>But it was at none of these things I looked—though -I see them now as plainly as if they were -here before me—for my eyes were turned inward -at the tumult in my own bosom, and my brain was -wondering numbly why it was that my life, heretofore -so bright, had turned suddenly so gray; that -the green valleys of the future had changed to -sandy, barren wastes; that the very savor of living -was as dust in my throat. I had glanced for an -instant into a pair of startled eyes, and that -instant had struck the boyish carelessness from -my heart as with a blow.</p> - -<p>But at last I shook the feeling off—or perhaps -it was only the warm blood of youth asserting -itself—and when the man came with the candles -I could proceed with my toilet with almost, if not -quite, my old calmness. When it was finished I -turned to the glass and contemplated the reflection -there. Fresh the face undoubtedly was, and if -not handsome, at least not grotesque; but with the -memory of my host before me I thought it absurdly -boyish. The figure, while erect enough, had not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span> -that easy poise I had marked in him, nor did the -garments in which I had arrayed myself fall into -those natural and graceful lines which somehow -stamp the finished gentleman. As I stared -gloomily at myself I recalled the careless words of -Sergeant Dubosq. Yes, he was right; he had hit -the mark—I was too young, too pink and white, -too much of the country.</p> - -<p>Comforting myself as well as I could with the -thought that time would remedy these defects, I -turned away, opened the door and went down the -stair. Beyond the vestibule was the saloon, a -circular marble room, extremely elegant and well-furnished, -and still beyond this the drawing-room, -with four large paintings of the French victories -of 1744 upon the walls. There was no one in -either room, and I was examining the paintings, -which no doubt pictured events in which the father -of my host had taken part, and which appeared to -me of splendid execution, when I heard the rustling -of skirts behind me. I turned to perceive Mlle. -de Chambray upon the threshold, and the fear of -her ridicule was swept away in the burst of happiness -at seeing her again.</p> - -<p>“Oh, is it you, M. de Tavernay?” she said, -hesitating and coloring divinely.</p> - -<p>“Yes, it is I, mademoiselle,” I answered, trembling -at this first time that she had ever addressed -me.</p> - -<p>“And alone?” she added, with a quick glance -about the room. “It is strange that madame is -not down.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span>“She and M. le Comte doubtless have much to -say to each other,” I hastened to explain, for I -too thought it strange—though the rack itself -could not have wrung the admission from me.</p> - -<p>“Yes—no doubt,” she agreed, but she was -plainly not convinced, and still hesitated on the -threshold.</p> - -<p>“It would be cruel to interrupt them,” I added. -“Besides, I assure you that I am quite harmless.”</p> - -<p>This time she permitted her glance to dwell -upon me for an instant, and I caught the perfect -contour of her face.</p> - -<p>“I am not so sure of that,” she retorted, “unless -your appearance is most deceptive. I think I -would better join madame;” and she made a -motion toward the door.</p> - -<p>“If there is any oath I can swear, mademoiselle,” -I protested, “prescribe it—I will take it -gladly. I will agree to sit here in this corner, if -you wish it.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you will?” she said; and looked at me -doubtfully, but with a glimmer of mischief in her -eye.</p> - -<p>“Yes, mademoiselle; I am capable even of that -heroism.”</p> - -<p>“I hear that you surrendered rather easily this -morning,” she taunted.</p> - -<p>“There was a pistol at my ear,” I explained, -“and the face of M. le Comte behind it. I saw no -reason to throw away my life for nothing more -important than a horse. I am doubly glad now that -I was so sensible.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span>She looked at me, her brows uplifted.</p> - -<p>“Life means more to me now than it did this -morning,” I hastened to explain. “Oh, vastly -more! So I rejoice that I am not lying back there -on the road with a bullet through me. Even had -M. le Comte missed me, I should not be here.”</p> - -<p>“He would not have missed. A pistol in the -hands of M. le Comte is a dangerous thing.”</p> - -<p>“I have never encountered but one thing more -dangerous, mademoiselle.”</p> - -<p>“And that?”</p> - -<p>“A pair of brown eyes, levelled at me by a -person who knows their power,” I answered, and -trembled at my temerity.</p> - -<p>But instead of being offended she burst into a -peal of laughter and advanced into the room.</p> - -<p>“Really, M. de Tavernay,” she said, her eyes -dancing, “I fear that you are not so harmless as -you pretend.”</p> - -<p>“But nevertheless you will remain, mademoiselle; -you owe me that reparation.”</p> - -<p>“Reparation?” she repeated, with raised brows.</p> - -<p>“For laughing at me. True you turned away -your face, but you could not conceal the quivering -of your shoulders.”</p> - -<p>She colored deeply and this time retreated in -earnest toward the door.</p> - -<p>“Oh, do not go,” I pleaded. “I pardon you—it -was nothing. Laugh at me again if you wish, -only do not go.”</p> - -<p>She hesitated, stopped, came back.</p> - -<p>“I <i>do</i> beg your pardon, monsieur,” she said.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span> -“Believe me, it was not in the least at you I was -laughing, but at a sudden thought—at the strange -chance——”</p> - -<p>She stopped, evidently confused.</p> - -<p>“Very well,” I hastened to assure her. “I -forgive and forget. Or rather, I shall not forget, -because you laugh adorably.”</p> - -<p>“In truth,” she said, with just a touch of malice, -“one would imagine you were straight from -Versailles instead of——”</p> - -<p>“Beaufort,” I said, flushing a little.</p> - -<p>“And how does it happen you are so far from -home?” she queried, bending upon me a look of -raillery.</p> - -<p>Then I remembered; my heart turned to lead in -my bosom, and despite myself a groan burst from -me in the first sharp agony of recollection.</p> - -<p>“What is it, monsieur?” she questioned, instantly -serious, and coming toward me quickly. -“You are not ill?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” I said hoarsely, dropping upon a seat. -“I am very ill, mademoiselle—so ill that I fear -I shall never make a recovery.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, horrible!” she cried; and sat down beside -me, and passed her handkerchief across my forehead—her -handkerchief, fragrant with I know not -what intoxicating scent. “But a moment ago you -were quite well, or seemed so. Is it the heart?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, mademoiselle,” I answered, rallying -sufficiently to perceive that the situation was not -without its advantages, and determining to maintain -it as long as possible. “It is the heart.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span>“And you are subject to such seizures?” she -continued, still gazing at me anxiously, so near -that I could see the dew upon her lips, could catch -the child-like fragrance of her breath. Here was -a woman different from any that I had ever known -or dreamed of—genuine, unaffected, of a sincerity -almost boyish.</p> - -<p>“This is the first, mademoiselle,” I said, gripping -my hands tight in the effort to maintain my -self-control, to resist the temptation to seize her -and crush her to me.</p> - -<p>“Oh, how you suffer!” she cried, seeing the -gesture and misinterpreting it. Yet now that I -have written the word, I am wondering if she did -misinterpret it. Looking back upon the scene, I -am inclined to think that she saw much more -than I suspected, and that I was really merely a -mouse she played with. Mouse—that was Sergeant -Dubosq’s word. But certainly no eyes could -have been more guileless than those she turned -upon me. “Here,” she added, “perhaps this will -help you;” and she held a little inlaid bottle -beneath my nostrils.</p> - -<p>I was not expecting it and just at that instant -drew a full breath, with the consequence that for -some moments after I could draw no other. Tears -poured from my eyes and I must have been altogether -an absurd object; but strange to say my -companion did not laugh—or if she did I was -too disordered to perceive it.</p> - -<p>“Heavens!” cried a voice from the door. -“What are you doing to M. de Tavernay, -Charlotte?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span>“Charlotte!” echoed my heart. “Charlotte! -Charlotte!” Then I caught my breath again for -fear that I had cried the name aloud.</p> - -<p>“M. de Tavernay has just had a very severe -seizure of the heart, madame,” answered my companion. -“I was letting him smell of my salts and -he took a full breath.”</p> - -<p>“I am better,” I said, struggling to my feet -and bowing to madame. “A thousand thanks, -mademoiselle. But for your thoughtfulness I -might not have rallied. I needed heroic treatment.”</p> - -<p>Madame glanced from one to the other of us, -her face alight with amusement and her eyes with -a meaning I did not wholly understand.</p> - -<p>“I shall have to command Charlotte to remain -near you then this evening, monsieur,” she said. -“In seizures of that kind it is always well to have -prompt aid at hand.”</p> - -<p>I bowed my thanks. I was not yet quite sure of -my voice.</p> - -<p>“And when one is subject to them,” went on -madame, “one cannot be too careful.”</p> - -<p>“I have already assured mademoiselle,” I said, -“that this is absolutely the first.”</p> - -<p>“Then she is very fortunate,” murmured -madame, pensively.</p> - -<p>“She?” I repeated, staring at her. “I do not -understand.”</p> - -<p>“Pardon me—then you are very fortunate, -monsieur;” and she smiled broadly.</p> - -<p>I confess I did not yet quite catch her meaning. -I was therefore the more surprised to see my<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span> -companion redden deeply, then rise abruptly and -walk to the other side of the room, where she -paused with her back to us to contemplate the fall -of Fribourg.</p> - -<p>Madame smiled again and cast me a glance full -of meaning.</p> - -<p>“Yes, you have offended her,” she said.</p> - -<p>“Offended her?” I repeated in dismay. “I?”</p> - -<p>“It is always an error,” she explained, “to -compel a lady to correct herself.”</p> - -<p>“I beg your pardon, madame,” I said humbly.</p> - -<p>“No; beg hers,” she corrected.</p> - -<p>“I do,” I said; “though I am utterly in the -dark as to the nature of my offense.”</p> - -<p>“Come, Charlotte,” called madame. “Forgive -him.”</p> - -<p>“What!” cried M. le Comte, appearing upon -the threshold. “Do you already stand in need -of forgiveness, Tavernay?”</p> - -<p>“It seems so,” I answered, somewhat miserably. -“Certainly for my thick head and dull wits.”</p> - -<p>At the words, Mlle. de Chambray ventured a -glance at me, and I saw a smile scatter the clouds. -She struggled to hold it back, to suppress it, but -quite in vain.</p> - -<p>“Come, you are forgiven,” cried our host; and -it seemed to me that in his glance also there was -a hidden meaning. “I knew she was not hard of -heart. And now for dinner.”</p> - -<p>“M. de Tavernay,” said madame, “to you I -shall confide Charlotte—or should I put it the -other way?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span>“Either way pleases me immensely, madame,” -I said, bowing.</p> - -<p>“You must know,” madame continued, “M. -de Tavernay is subject to sudden seizures of the -heart, and that Charlotte is the only one present -who can work a cure.”</p> - -<p>“Our friend is not the first to be so afflicted,” -laughed M. le Comte, crossing to his wife’s side. -“Luckily I also found the one person who could -work a cure.”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense!” protested Mlle. de Chambray, -very red. “M. de Tavernay was really suffering -acutely.”</p> - -<p>“Well, so have I suffered acutely,” retorted her -tormentor. “Did I not, madame?”</p> - -<p>“Or pretended to,” rejoined madame. “With -that disease it is often impossible to tell where -reality leaves off and pretense begins; you men -have made so close a study of the symptoms. But -come, monsieur; the dinner waits.”</p> - -<p>I confess that the arm I gave my partner was -not so steady as I could have wished it; for my -heart was torn between delight and despair—delight -that she should be there beside me, despair -at my own stupidity in understanding so little of -all this; but I managed by some miracle to enter -the dining-room without accident, to get her safely -seated and to seat myself beside her.</p> - -<p>I drew a deep breath of relief when I found -myself in port.</p> - -<p>“You have never been to Paris, M. de Tavernay?”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span> -asked a low voice at my elbow, and I -looked up to find her eyes on mine.</p> - -<p>“No, mademoiselle,” I stammered.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps not even to Orléans?” and I saw -again in their depths that glimmer of mischief.</p> - -<p>“No,” I answered, not heeding it as a wise man -would. “I have passed all my life upon our -estate at Beaufort.”</p> - -<p>“Something told me so!” she murmured, and -turned to her plate as innocently as though she -were quite unconscious of having planted a -poniard in my bosom.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IV.<br /> - -<span class="small">A SCENT OF DANGER.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">I bore</span> the blow with such stoicism as I possessed, -and even made some show of listening and -laughing at M. le Comte’s account of our meeting -and subsequent reconciliation. Both women were -unaffectedly delighted with the story, which, -indeed, was told with a wit and spirit quite beyond -my reproduction. As I write these lines I am -again impressed with the wide difference between -the awkward country boy who sat scowling in that -pleasant company and the accomplished and finished -gentleman who did so much to entertain it. -For I know now that my assumption of ease and -interest could have deceived no one. All of us, -I think, looking back over the mistakes and gaucheries -of our youth must feel our cheeks crimson -more than once; certainly mine grow red when -I think upon the sorry figure I made that evening. -But when I started to set this history upon paper -I determined not to spare myself, nor will I.</p> - -<p>“But who could have sent the message?” asked -madame when M. le Comte had finished the story.</p> - -<p>“I cannot even guess,” he answered.</p> - -<p>“How was it delivered to you? How came -you to believe it?”</p> - -<p>“I believed it,” he explained, “because it was -brought to me by one of our old servants—Laroche—whom -I left in charge of the stables.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span>“Ah, true,” murmured madame. “Laroche -disappeared a week ago. I fancied he had run -away to join the Revolutionists.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps he did,” said her husband quietly.</p> - -<p>Madame looked at him with a start of alarm.</p> - -<p>“The Revolutionists?” she repeated. “It was -they who sent the message? But why? What was -their object? Ah, I know,” she added with sudden -conviction. “It was to deprive the Vendéans of -your sword, in order that they might be defeated.”</p> - -<p>M. le Comte smiled as he looked down into her -fond, admiring eyes.</p> - -<p>“Ah, my dear,” he said, “my sword is not so -powerful as that. The Vendéans will win their -battles just the same without me. I think the -message was merely the bait for a trap——”</p> - -<p>“From which you have escaped!” she cried -triumphantly, and clapped her hands.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he agreed; but there was still in his -face a certain anxiety which she perceived.</p> - -<p>“What is it, Henri?” she demanded. “You -are not now in danger?”</p> - -<p>He threw off his preoccupation with a laugh of -genuine amusement.</p> - -<p>“In danger?” he repeated. “No—or at least -the only danger to which I am exposed at this -moment, madame, is that of falling in love with -you more violently than ever.”</p> - -<p>“For shame, sir!” she cried, blushing like a -girl. “You forget that we are not alone.”</p> - -<p>“On the contrary,” he retorted, “I think our -example a most excellent one for our young<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span> -friends yonder;” and he looked across at us with -beaming face, and with a meaning in his eyes -which I tried in vain to fathom. “I hope they -will profit by it.”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur! Monsieur!” protested madame, -restraining him, yet unable to preserve a stern -countenance.</p> - -<p>“Besides,” he added, laughing more and more, -“it delights me to confuse that pert young lady -sitting opposite us yonder—to make her blush, -as she is doing at this moment,—and I swear, so -is Tavernay! What a pair of children! If their -parents had only had the good judgment to betroth -them——”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur!” interrupted madame, more -sharply. “You will not break your promise. -There was to be no word——”</p> - -<p>“And I will say none; pardon me,” broke in -M. le Comte. “The temptation was very great; -and I hate to see a fellow-man barred out from -Paradise;” and he looked at me, still laughing.</p> - -<p>But I bent above my plate, all pleasure in the -meal struck from me, for suddenly I found myself -groaning beneath my burden. Barred out from -Paradise—how apt the words were!—and with -bars that could never be removed. Ah, yes, if our -parents——</p> - -<p>“What is it, monsieur?” asked a low voice at -my side, and I raised my eyes to find myself -gazing into the depths of those I loved. “You -sighed,” she added, seeing that I did not understand.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span>“Did I?” I said, wondering somewhat that she -remained so unruffled by the fire of raillery which -had been turned upon her. “One is apt to sigh -when there is something one desires very much -and yet may not possess.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps I can help you,” she suggested, and I -saw again in her eyes that light which should have -set me on my guard. “If it is my smelling-bottle——”</p> - -<p>“No, thank you,” I answered, with dignity. -“I do not need it.”</p> - -<p>“So you refuse to confide in me, even when I -offer you my aid?”</p> - -<p>“I fear you cannot aid me, mademoiselle; and -if any one in the world could, it would be you.”</p> - -<p>“I am not fond of riddles, M. de Tavernay; and -it seems to me that you have just propounded one.”</p> - -<p>“I spoke very seriously,” I said, “and as plainly -as I could.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you mean it is my wits which are deficient! -I must say, monsieur——”</p> - -<p>“I meant nothing of the sort,” I protested. “I -meant——”</p> - -<p>“No matter,” she broke in. “Nothing is so -wearisome as to have to explain one’s meaning—unless -it be to listen to the explanation. I am sure -it argues dulness somewhere.”</p> - -<p>“I am sorry that I bore you,” I retorted, stung -to a sort of desperation. “I had hoped that I -might at least continue to furnish you amusement.”</p> - -<p>“Really,” she cried, casting me a brilliant -glance, “not a bad <i>riposte</i>. Come, we are quits, -then?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span>“With all my heart,” I agreed; “especially -since you have removed your button.”</p> - -<p>“Well, finish it,” she cried, her eyes dancing. -“Finish it.”</p> - -<p>“While I am too gallant to follow your -example,” I added, relentlessly.</p> - -<p>“Good!” she applauded. “<i>Touché!</i> I assure -you, monsieur, you are not boring me in the least. -All you need is a little practise, a little more assurance—you -hesitate, as all beginners do, to drive -the point home——”</p> - -<p>“I am not bloodthirsty,” I interrupted. “On -the contrary, I am of a disposition the most -amiable.”</p> - -<p>“And there is still about you a slight clumsiness,” -she went on, not heeding me, “a lack of -style and finish.”</p> - -<p>“Remember, I have never been to Paris,” I -reminded her, “nor even to Orléans.”</p> - -<p>“I shall not remember it long, for there will -soon be nothing about you to suggest it.”</p> - -<p>I bowed my thanks.</p> - -<p>“Especially if I may remain near you,” I said.</p> - -<p>“Oh that—of course!” she agreed. “Well, -you have my permission, and you will find M. le -Comte most hospitable; so remain, unless this -mysterious business of yours is imperative.”</p> - -<p>“It is,” I said, my face clouding again. “I -must set out at daybreak.”</p> - -<p>“Ungallant man!” she retorted, looking at me -with sparkling eyes. “Do you ask a favor only -to refuse it? Do you understand what you are -saying?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span>“Only too well, mademoiselle,” I murmured -desolately; “and I would rather have cut off my -right hand than utter those words.”</p> - -<p>“Still the riddle!” she cried, with a gesture of -despair. “Really, monsieur, you weary me. -Whatever it is you desire, I advise you to ask for -it. One gets nothing in this world without asking—and -if it is refused, taking it just the same.”</p> - -<p>“But when one may neither ask nor take, -mademoiselle?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, then,” she retorted, with a shrug of the -shoulders, “one is certainly in a bad way. One -would better stop desiring;” and she turned her -shoulder to me in the most impudent manner possible -and gave her attention to M. le Comte.</p> - -<p>“It is La Vendée which will re-establish -monarchy in France,” he was saying, his face -alight. “Those peasants are unconquerable. -There are two hundred thousand of them, peaceful -men, tilling the soil, tending their herds, as they -had always done, with no thought of resisting the -Republic until the Republic attempted to take from -them their priests and to draft them forth to -fight on the frontiers. Then they rose as one -man, fell upon their oppressors, routed them, cut -them to pieces among the hedges. Now they are -back in their homes again to make their Easter; -that over, they will march against Thouars and -Saumur.”</p> - -<p>“But, M. le Comte,” I protested, forgetting -for a moment my own troubles in the interest of -the narrative, “fighting of that sort can be successful<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span> -only near home and in a most favorable -country. For a campaign troops must have -organization.”</p> - -<p>“That is true, my friend,” he agreed. “Well, -these troops are being organized. Once the -Bocage is free of the Blues, which will be within -the month, our army will be ready to cross the -Loire, take Nantes, advance through Brittany, -Normandy, and Maine, where we shall be well -received, and at last march at the head of a united -north-west against Paris itself! I tell you, Tavernay, -the Republic is doomed!”</p> - -<p>His eyes were sparkling, his face flushed with -excitement. An electric shock seemed to run -around the board, and madame sprang to her feet, -glass in hand.</p> - -<p>“The King!” she cried, and as we rose to drink -the toast I had a vision of a boy of twelve issuing -triumphantly from the gate of the Temple to -avenge his murdered father.</p> - -<p>“And may God protect him!” added M. le -Comte, as we set our glasses down.</p> - -<p>There was gloom for a moment in our hearts, -and I at least felt the stark horror of the Revolution -as I had never done. I saw more clearly its -blood-guiltiness, its red madness. For in our quiet -home at Beaufort the delirium of Paris had seemed -far away, almost of another age and country.</p> - -<p>We had shuddered at the stories of the September -massacres, but only as one shudders at any -tale of horror; even yet we scarcely believed that -the King was really dead. It seemed impossible<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span> -that such things could happen. Just as the body -pushed beyond a certain limit of pain grows numb -and suffers no more, so the mind after a certain -time refuses to be impressed. It was thus with -the reports which came from Paris, as one followed -another, each more terrible than the last. -Not even the actors in that hideous drama comprehended -what was passing there; they were but -chips in a maelstrom, hurled hither and thither, -utterly powerless to stay or to direct the flood -which hurried them on and finally sucked them -down.</p> - -<p>We of Beaufort were far off the beaten track, -and of too little consequence to cause the tide of -revolution to sweep in our direction; so it had -passed us by at such a distance that we had caught -only the faint, confused murmur of it. True, our -peasants had for the most part deserted us; our -fields were untilled, our flocks untended. There -was no money in the till and little meat in the -larder. But personally we had experienced no -danger, and expected none. We had been content -to sit quietly by while France wrought out her -destiny, pitying those less fortunate than ourselves, -and happy in the safety which our obscurity won -for us.</p> - -<p>Now I was suddenly brought face to face with -the question, What was my duty? Was it to stay -at home and permit these scoundrels to have their -way unquestioned? Was it not rather to join the -army of La Vendée and add my atom to its -strength, to do what in me lay to render that campaign<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span> -against the cannibals at Paris not a dream -but a reality? For at last I understood. Those -hideous tales were true. The fair land of France -lay at the mercy of the vilest of her people——</p> - -<p>“Still pondering the riddle?” asked my companion; -and I turned to find her again regarding -me with a provoking scrutiny.</p> - -<p>“No, mademoiselle,” I said. “I was thinking -that when M. le Comte rides back to the Bocage -I will accompany him.”</p> - -<p>Her eyes flashed a swift approval.</p> - -<p>“That is a man’s place!” she said. “That is -where I would be, were I a man!”</p> - -<p>“You will wish me God-speed, then?” I -questioned.</p> - -<p>“Yes—provided, of course,” she added, looking -at me searchingly, “that you are free to go.”</p> - -<p>“Free to go!” I repeated, and my chin fell on -my breast. What instinct was it gave her this -power to stab home whenever she chose?</p> - -<p>“Then you are not free to go?” she queried, -eyeing me still more closely.</p> - -<p>“I confess,” I stammered, “that it was not to -don a white cockade I left Beaufort.”</p> - -<p>“But surely any mere personal matter of business -may be put aside when one’s country calls!”</p> - -<p>“Alas!” I murmured, “this is not an affair of -that nature.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” she said coolly, “you must of course -decide for yourself, monsieur; more especially -since you seem to wish to shroud yourself in a -veil of mystery.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span>“Mademoiselle,” I said desperately, “I should -like your advice.”</p> - -<p>“But I understand nothing of the matter.”</p> - -<p>“You shall understand, if you will do me the -honor to hear me.”</p> - -<p>“Would not M. le Comte’s advice be of more -service?” she asked with a sudden trepidation -which surprised me.</p> - -<p>“No,” I said, decidedly, “not in this instance. -I hope you will not refuse me.”</p> - -<p>She glanced at my anxious face and smiled -curiously.</p> - -<p>“Very well,” she assented. “Proceed, then.”</p> - -<p>“O, not here!” I protested, with a glance at the -others. “Perhaps after dinner, mademoiselle, you -will walk with me in the garden.”</p> - -<p>“In the garden?” she repeated, in an astonished -tone, and looked at me with lifted brows.</p> - -<p>“I know that it is a great favor I am asking,” -I continued hastily.</p> - -<p>“Yes, it is more than that,” she broke in sharply. -“It is not convenable. What strange customs you -must have at Beaufort, monsieur! Are the young -ladies there accustomed to grant such requests?”</p> - -<p>“I do not know,” I answered miserably. “I -have never before preferred such a one. I am not -familiar with etiquette—with the nice rules of conduct. -If I have done wrong, forgive me.”</p> - -<p>I saw her glance at me quickly from the corner -of her eye, and my heart grew bolder.</p> - -<p>“It is a beautiful garden,” I went on. “I saw<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span> -it this evening from my window. There are -paths, seats——”</p> - -<p>“I am familiar with the garden, monsieur,” she -interposed dryly.</p> - -<p>“And the moon will be full to-night,” I concluded.</p> - -<p>“The more reason I should refuse you,” she -retorted. “It will be a dangerous place. Though -I am amply able to take care of myself,” she -added.</p> - -<p>“I do not doubt it, mademoiselle,” I agreed -humbly, “especially with me. That has already -been proved, has it not?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she said, with a queer little smile; “yes, -I think it has.”</p> - -<p>“Believe me, it is not a ruse,” I added earnestly, -“even were I capable of a ruse, which I am not. -God knows I should like to walk with you there, -but not to tell you what I shall to-night have to -tell you.”</p> - -<p>She looked at me again with a strange mixture -of timidity and daring.</p> - -<p>“Very well, M. de Tavernay,” she said at last. -“In the garden then—provided, of course, that -madame consents.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” I said, my heart warm with gratitude. -“Shall I ask her?”</p> - -<p>“No; I will attend to that;” and she smiled a -little as she glanced across the board. “But I -know that it is not discreet; I am falling a victim -to my curiosity. You have piqued it most successfully. -Although I can never solve a riddle for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span> -myself, I cannot rest until I know the solution. I -hope your riddle will be worth the risk.”</p> - -<p>“It will,” I assured her; and fell silent, nerving -myself for the task which lay before me.</p> - -<p>“But will you hear what this tyrant is saying?” -cried madame—“that I must leave the château to -dwell amid the fogs of England——”</p> - -<p>“Or beneath the blue skies of Italy,” said M. -le Comte. “Really, madame, I fear the château -is no longer safe for you. The Revolution is -looking this way—and not with friendly eyes.”</p> - -<p>“Does the Revolution, then, make war on -women?”</p> - -<p>“Have you forgotten Mlle. de Lamballe?”</p> - -<p>Madame went white at the retort, almost brutal -in its brevity.</p> - -<p>“But that was the <i>canaille</i> of Paris,” she protested. -“There are no such monsters here in -Poitou.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, my dear,” said her husband, sadly, “I -fear there are monsters of the same sort wherever -there are suffering and degraded men and women. -And since it is us they blame for their suffering -and degradation, it is upon us they try to avenge -themselves. Besides, since the Republicans are -trying to entrap me, they will doubtless end by -coming here; and not finding me, they may throw -you into prison as the surest way of causing me -to suffer.”</p> - -<p>“We have the tower!” cried madame. “We -will defend ourselves!”</p> - -<p>“The tower was not built to withstand artillery,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span> -her husband pointed out; “and even if the -Republicans have no cannon they need only camp -about it and bide their time to starve you into -surrender, since you could expect no aid from any -quarter.”</p> - -<p>“But to leave the château—to abandon it to -pillage—oh, I could never endure it!”</p> - -<p>“Better that than to lose it and our lives -together. Yes, decidedly, you must set out to-morrow——”</p> - -<p>“To-morrow!” echoed madame, in despairing -tones.</p> - -<p>“M. de Tavernay will accompany you as far as -Poitiers. At Poitiers, Mlle. de Chambray——”</p> - -<p>“Charlotte goes with me to Italy, do you not, -my dear? It was arranged, you know, that you -should remain with me.”</p> - -<p>“I do not know, madame,” Charlotte stammered, -turning very red. “I—I think perhaps I -would better stop at Chambray.”</p> - -<p>For some reason which I could not fathom both -monsieur and madame burst into a peal of laughter, -while my companion turned an even deeper -crimson.</p> - -<p>“As you will,” said her hostess when she had -taken breath. “I myself think that you might do -worse, happy as I would be to have you with me.”</p> - -<p>“Why cannot you stop at Chambray also, -madame?” questioned Charlotte, her face slowly -regaining its normal hue. “At least until you -find some friend also bound for Italy? You will -be quite safe at Chambray.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span>M. le Comte nodded.</p> - -<p>“She is right, my dear,” he said. “Accept, -and thank her. No one will look for you there—besides, -it is not for you they are searching, but -for me.”</p> - -<p>“And where will you be, monsieur?”</p> - -<p>“I shall be in the Bocage,” he answered simply, -“fighting the enemies of France.”</p> - -<p>Madame bit her lips to restrain their trembling, -as she cast upon him a glance full of love and pride.</p> - -<p>“That is where I would be also,” she said, “if -the choice were mine. Madame de la Rochejaquelein -accompanies her husband.”</p> - -<p>“That is true,” he assented, “and she is sometimes -frightfully in the way. If you knew that -country, my love, you would see how impossible it -is for women. Besides, I am not Rochejaquelein—I -am not a leader, but a follower. I must go -where I am ordered, and at once, without question. -I shall fight better—I shall be worth more—knowing -that you are in safety.”</p> - -<p>“Very well, monsieur,” she said, her eyes shining. -“As you will. You know best.”</p> - -<p>He seized her hand and kissed it.</p> - -<p>“We shall have many happy days together,” -he said, “when the fight is won.”</p> - -<p>And as I looked at them I fancied that happy -future already realized.</p> - -<p>“You perceive, M. de Tavernay,” he smiled, -catching my eyes, “that though I have the honor -to be this lady’s husband, I have never ceased to -be her lover.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span>“Indeed, that is not wonderful, M. le Comte,” -I said, with a glance at the adoring face beside -him. “Anything else is inconceivable.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, monsieur!” cried madame. -“You have the tongue of a courtier.”</p> - -<p>“I assure you, madame,” I protested, “that -came from the heart.”</p> - -<p>She laughed as she rose to her feet, and held -out her hand to me with a quick little pressure of -the fingers.</p> - -<p>“Do not be long,” she said. “We women will -be lonely.”</p> - -<p>I held back the drapery at the door for her -and watched her as she passed—the beautiful, -fair head, set imperiously upon the slender neck; -the little ear, pink-tinted; the rounded, perfect -arm——</p> - -<p>Then another vision passed and eclipsed the -first one, though all I caught of it was a glance -from a pair of eyes dancing with mischief.</p> - -<p>“M. de Tavernay,” said my host, coming up -behind me and placing his hand affectionately -upon my shoulder, “I confess to you that I do -not wish to sit nodding here over the wine. I -had not seen my wife for near a month, until a -few hours ago; after to-morrow it may be that -I shall never see her again. I know you will -pardon me when I say that I cannot bear the -thought of spending one moment of this night -away from her.”</p> - -<p>“I beg of you to say no more,” I protested. -“I too wish to join the ladies.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span>“I knew it!” he laughed; then his face sobered -as he looked at me. “Come, my friend, I am -going to speak to you frankly. It is a wonderful -chance which brought you here to meet Charlotte; -I cannot tell you how wonderful—you will learn -for yourself some day. Make the most of it. She -is a woman worth winning—but you have seen -that. What perhaps you have not seen—since -there are no eyes so blind as a lover’s—is that -she may be won.”</p> - -<p>I caught a deep breath—a breath as much of -agony as of joy.</p> - -<p>“You think so?” I murmured. “You think -so?”</p> - -<p>“I am sure of it!” he said, and wrung my -hand. “Good luck to you! Remember,” he -added laughing, “a fortress of that sort is never -to be taken by siege—it must be carried by -assault!” and he led the way into the drawing-room.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER V.<br /> - -<span class="small">I MAKE MY CONFESSION.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">I looked</span> blindly about the room, with M. le -Comte’s words ringing in my brain, and for a -moment I did not see her. Then my eyes found -her where she stood in the embrasure of a window, -half concealed by the draperies. She was gazing -out across the garden at the rising moon and she -did not hear my approach until I had come quite -near; then she looked up at me with a glance so -soft, so caressing, that my heart leaped with a -sudden suffocating rapture.</p> - -<p>“Oh, it is you,” she said, and passed her hand -hastily before her eyes. “I was not expecting -you so soon.”</p> - -<p>“The wine had no attractions for either M. le -Comte or myself,” I answered, a little hoarsely. -“I have come to claim your promise.”</p> - -<p>Without replying, she drew aside the curtain -and stepped through the window upon a gravelled -walk. I followed her with pulse throbbing -strangely. Madame had consented then—I had -scarcely dared hope it. But the whole adventure -had about it something so strange, so unusual, -that I had long since ceased to wonder at it, or -to try to understand it. That madame should -consent, almost as if we were betrothed, as if all -this were a family arrangement—and then my<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span> -heart grew chill at thought of the task that lay -before me. For I knew that this was the last -time that I should ever walk in this garden, or in -any garden, with this sweet woman at my side.</p> - -<p>The yellow moon was just peeping over the -tree-tops to the east, and a soft breeze stirred -the leaves upon the branches. Somewhere in the -distance a thrush was calling to its mate. The -night seemed made for love.</p> - -<p>Still without speaking she led the way along the -path, past the old tower, to a seat of marble -gleaming white amid a setting of evergreens.</p> - -<p>“Now I am ready to hear you, monsieur,” she -said, and sank into one corner of the seat.</p> - -<p>I took a turn up and down the path to compose -myself somewhat, to quiet the painful throbbing -of my heart. How I longed to sit there beside -her—to whisper in her ear, to tell her——</p> - -<p>“Mademoiselle,” I began finally, pausing before -her, “believe me, it is not an easy task which I -have set myself, nor one which I would choose to -face could it be shirked with honor. But since -I must face it—since there is no other way—I -shall try to do so with such courage as I possess.”</p> - -<p>“A most disconcerting preamble,” she commented. -“I tremble at what will follow. If it -is so formidable perhaps, after all, you would -better take M. le Comte for your confidant.”</p> - -<p>“M. le Comte has no concern in it.”</p> - -<p>“And I have?” she asked, looking at me -quickly with a little shrinking of alarm.</p> - -<p>“Indirectly—yes.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span>“Oh,” she said with a breath of relief. “Extremely -indirectly, I should say!”</p> - -<p>“Besides,” I added, “I wish you to advise me—and -your advice will be worth much more to me -than M. le Comte’s, or any other’s.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you; although that sounds somewhat -as if it were a continuation of the riddle. Pray -continue.”</p> - -<p>“It is necessary that I should go back a little,” -I explained. “Thirty years ago my father made -a pilgrimage to Mont Saint-Michel to discharge -a vow. As he approached the rock across the -sands he was suddenly conscious that his horse -was having difficulty in proceeding. In a moment -more the horse had sunk to his belly and my father -perceived that he had blundered into a quicksand. -He flung himself from the saddle, and -abandoning the beast to its fate,—which indeed -nothing could have averted,—endeavored to make -his way back to solid ground. He sank to his -ankles, to his knees, to his waist. His struggles -to escape served only to entangle him more deeply, -until at last, seeing them in vain, he set himself -to await the end courageously. He glanced -around over the sands to make sure that there was -no help in sight, then he turned his face toward -the cross above the rock and commended his soul -to God.</p> - -<p>“But the moment he ceased to struggle he -robbed the quicksand of its violence. He still -sank indeed, but so slowly that at the end of an -hour the sand had scarcely reached his breast.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span> -He reckoned that it would be three hours at least -before the sand covered nose and mouth, but he -knew that the tide would end it before that. -Nevertheless, hope began to revive a little and -again he looked around for aid, but he had evidently -wandered some distance from the road, -and the only persons passing were so far away -that they did not perceive him nor hear his shouts. -So again he resigned himself, and the thought -even came to him to renew his struggles in order -to bring the end more quickly. But he decided -that this would be cowardly, if not sinful, and so -waited quietly. He was relieved to see that his -horse, struggling to the last, had sunk from sight, -so that its sufferings were ended.</p> - -<p>“He closed his eyes and even dozed a little, -for he had been exhausted by his previous efforts, -but he was startled wide awake by a voice shouting. -The sand had reached his armpits. His -arms, extended in front of him, were covered. -He turned his head with difficulty and saw a man -standing at the edge of the quicksand. He was -tearing off his doublet in desperate haste.</p> - -<p>“‘Do not venture into it!’ my father cried, -comprehending his purpose. ‘I am past saving. -Do not endanger yourself. Take a message for -me—that is all I ask.’</p> - -<p>“The other did not answer, but spread out his -cloak before him and advanced across it. He -sank somewhat, it is true, but his feet were not -entangled in the sand. At the edge of his cloak -he spread his doublet, stepped upon it and drew his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span> -cloak after him. But that moment almost proved -his ruin, for he had sunk nearly to his knees -before he got his cloak spread out again. My -father watched him with bated breath as he freed -himself and crept forward to the edge of it.</p> - -<p>“‘Your hand,’ said the stranger; and he -stretched out his own.</p> - -<p>“My father disentangled one of his arms and -grasped the hand extended to him.</p> - -<p>“‘Now,’ continued the other rapidly, ‘you -must free yourself by one supreme effort. If we -fail the first time it will be useless to try again. -So we must not fail. Are you ready?’</p> - -<p>“‘Yes,’ said my father, and with a mighty -effort heaved himself up out of the sand. Yet he -must have failed, must have sunk deeper than -ever, but for that strong arm which helped him, -drawing him up and forward to the edge of the -cloak, which formed for a moment a little isle of -safety.</p> - -<p>“But only for a moment. Already the sand -was pouring over its edges and it was being -rapidly engulfed.</p> - -<p>“‘We must get back without it,’ said the unknown. -‘Come.’</p> - -<p>“Of the desperate struggle which followed my -father never told me much—indeed I doubt if he -remembered its details very clearly. They aided -each other, encouraged each other, drew each -other forward—each determined that the other -should be saved—and at the end dropped exhausted, -side by side, on the firm sand beyond.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span>“My father’s rescuer was a young man of -Poitiers—the younger son of a good family—and -his name was Louis Marie de Benseval.”</p> - -<p>I paused. I was indeed somewhat overcome -by my own story, and more especially by the -memories which it evoked. As for Mlle. de -Chambray, she sat with her face so in the shadow -that I could scarcely discern her features. She -made no comment, only stirred slightly, and I -saw her eyes shining up at me.</p> - -<p>“I fear I have been prolix,” I said. “I have -wearied you. I will try to hasten——”</p> - -<p>“Please do not,” she broke in. “You have not -wearied me. I wish to hear the whole story. But -will you not sit down?” and she made a little -inviting gesture.</p> - -<p>“No,” I said, resisting it. “I have not yet -come to the difficult part. If I should sit there -beside you I fear that my courage would fail me.”</p> - -<p>“As you will,” she murmured, and leaned still -farther into the shadow.</p> - -<p>“The two became fast friends,” I continued. -“Indeed, friend is scarcely the word with which -to describe their affection—it is not strong enough. -They were more than friends. Their attachment -had a rare, abiding quality—whether they were -apart or together, it was just the same. They -determined to perpetuate it by knitting their two -families into one. They agreed that should one -of them have a son and the other a daughter, -these two should be considered betrothed from the -cradle. And it would seem that Nature, Providence,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span> -God, approved of this design, for it so -fell out.</p> - -<p>“When I was ten years old my father was -seized with a fever from which it was soon evident -he could not recover. M. de Benseval -hastened to him, bringing with him his daughter, -a child of eight. We were betrothed beside my -father’s bed. It was agreed that on the day that -I was twenty-one I should set out from Beaufort -to claim my bride. My father died blessing us, -and very happy.”</p> - -<p>Again I paused, for my voice was no longer -wholly steady. Nor did I relish the story I had -yet to tell. But I nerved myself to do it.</p> - -<p>“After that I lived with my mother upon our -estate at Beaufort—a small estate, but one which -under my father’s management had sufficed for -our support. At first everything went well; but -a woman, however capable, is not a man, and my -mother was more engrossed in her son than in -her fields. So our fortunes dwindled from year -to year, and the Revolution, which robbed us of -our peasants, struck them the final blow. We -were at the end of our resources, and a month -ago my mother wrote to M. de Benseval, at Poitiers, -stating our circumstances frankly and releasing -him from his engagement. In reply came a -terse note saying that his engagement was with -the dead, not with the living, and so was doubly -sacred; that on the day that I was twenty-one he -would expect me to set out for Poitiers, where his -daughter would be awaiting me.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span>“And then?” asked my companion in a voice -which seemed a little tremulous.</p> - -<p>“Well, mademoiselle, yesterday I was twenty-one.”</p> - -<p>“And you set out as M. de Benseval commanded?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, at daybreak.”</p> - -<p>“Joyfully, no doubt?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, joyfully—why attempt to conceal it? I -told myself that I was going to execute my -father’s last command, that he was looking down -upon me with approving eyes. So I was very -happy.”</p> - -<p>“You have forgotten another reason for that -happiness, have you not, monsieur?”</p> - -<p>“Another reason?”</p> - -<p>“You have said nothing of the lady.”</p> - -<p>“Really, mademoiselle,” I said in some confusion, -“I fear I scarcely thought of her. I was -only a boy. I had never been out into the world. -All women were the same to me.”</p> - -<p>“You mean they are no longer so?” she asked, -and again I saw her eyes gleaming up at me from -the shadow.</p> - -<p>“So little so, mademoiselle,” I answered -hoarsely, “that I am longing to throw myself -into the war in La Vendée in the hope that a -kindly bullet will deliver me from the fate prepared -for me. Death, it seems to me, is preferable -to that a thousand times.”</p> - -<p>“Come, monsieur,” she protested lightly, “you -exaggerate. Indeed, I can assure you that a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span> -month from now you will again find life very -tolerable.”</p> - -<p>“Why a month from now?”</p> - -<p>“Because in that time you will be married, you -will have become accustomed to your wife, your -heart will have opened to her, and you will have -forgotten the mood of this evening—or if you -recall it, it will be with a smile of amusement, -as at a boyish folly.”</p> - -<p>“You may think so perhaps,” I said, bitter that -I should be so misunderstood.</p> - -<p>“You ask for my advice,” she retorted, “and -yet you grow angry when I give it. Shall I not -say what I believe?”</p> - -<p>“Pardon me,” I begged, “but you do not yet -understand. I have told you that I have passed -my whole life with my mother—for me she was -the only woman in the world.”</p> - -<p>“And now?” she asked. I could have sworn -that she was luring me on but for the gross absurdity -of such a thought.</p> - -<p>“Now there is still only one woman, mademoiselle, -but it is not the same one,” I answered -simply.</p> - -<p>To this for a moment she found no reply, but -sat gazing out at the river with pensive eyes. The -moon had risen above the tree-tops, seeking her; -and finding her at last, caressed and threw a halo -round her. I turned a little giddy at her pure, -transcendent beauty, and my heart hungered for -her.</p> - -<p>At last she roused herself.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span>“Well, monsieur,” she said, “now that perhaps -I understand a little better, do you still desire -my advice?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, mademoiselle; more than I can say.”</p> - -<p>“Not, I hope, as to whether you should prove -false to this betrothal?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no!—there can be no question of that. -That is a matter which concerns not my honor -alone, but that of my father also.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she assented; “M. de Benseval was -right—the engagement is with the dead, and so is -doubly sacred. So far we are agreed. What is -it, then, that you propose?”</p> - -<p>“I propose to turn aside from my journey to -Poitiers, and follow M. le Comte back to the -Bocage. Can I do this with honor, mademoiselle?”</p> - -<p>“What will you do in the Bocage?”</p> - -<p>“I will seek death,” I answered; and I know -that I spoke sincerely. “And it may be that my -death will be of some service to France.”</p> - -<p>She sat a moment looking up at me, a strange -light in her eyes.</p> - -<p>“I do not like to advise,” she began at last, and -I fancied that her lips were trembling. “It is so -serious a matter.”</p> - -<p>“I beg you to,” I urged. “It is the greatest -favor you can do me.”</p> - -<p>“A man is the best judge of his own duty.”</p> - -<p>“He should be,” I admitted; “but in this case -I fear that I cannot see clearly.”</p> - -<p>“But neither may I,” she objected.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span>“Ah, I am sure you will; in fact, mademoiselle, -I suspect that you see so clearly that you fear to -wound me. But to refuse to help me would be -to wound me far more deeply.”</p> - -<p>“Well, then,” she said, a little hoarsely, “since -you will have it so, I must tell you that to my -mind your betrothed has the first claim upon you. -Not until you have fulfilled your engagement with -her,—the engagement for which your father has -your word,—is your life your own to cherish or -throw away; not even then, for surely she will -have some claim upon it.”</p> - -<p>“Not so great a claim as my country,” I -protested.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps not,” she assented; “but at present -her claim is greater than your country’s. To -desert her would be to dishonor her; a betrothal -is a sacred thing, almost as sacred as marriage -itself. To break it, to cast it aside, to disregard -it even for a time, would be cowardly and ignoble. -You must go on to Poitiers. That way lies the -path of honor.”</p> - -<p>She spoke with a simple, fearless, deep sincerity -which moved me strangely. Ah, here was -a woman! Here was a woman!</p> - -<p>“You are right, mademoiselle,” I said, and bent -and kissed her hand. “A thousand times right. -I thank you.”</p> - -<p>Then with such agony at my heart that I knew -not whither I went, I turned and left her.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VI.<br /> - -<span class="small">EVE IN THE GARDEN.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">But</span> that clear voice recalled me ere I had taken -a dozen steps.</p> - -<p>“What is it? Whither do you go?” she asked. -“Not forward to Poitiers at this hour!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no!” I answered. “I was merely going -to—to think—to fight it out. But I was rude. -Pardon me. I—I did not realize what I was -doing.”</p> - -<p>“You are pardoned,” she said; and her voice -was siren-sweet. “Perhaps I can help you to -fight it out, my friend—at least I should like to -help you. Besides I have not yet done talking -to you. I have some further advice at your disposal, -if you care for it.”</p> - -<p>“I <i>do</i> care for it,” I said; and turned instantly -back to her. “You are very kind.”</p> - -<p>“I wish to be kind,” she murmured; and looked -up at me with a smile that set my head to whirling. -“But before I proceed,” she added, “you must -sit here beside me. I can’t talk to you when you -are prowling up and down like that. I feel as -though I were <i>tête-à-tête</i> with a wild animal, and -it disconcerts me.”</p> - -<p>She patted the seat with an inviting hand, and -smiled again that alluring smile. I sat down obediently -and looked at her, noting how the moonlight<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span> -touched her hair with silver and gave a -strange glory to her face.</p> - -<p>“Since you are betrothed to another, M. de -Tavernay,” she began, turning in the seat so -that she faced me, “doubly betrothed, with a tie -there is no breaking, and since I have satisfied -myself that you are a man of honor, I feel that -I can be quite frank with you—almost as I should -be with my own brother, did I have one. What is -it?” she asked, noticing the cloud which swept -across my countenance.</p> - -<p>“Nothing, nothing,” I hastened to say. “Only -there was a sting in the words, as well as kindness.”</p> - -<p>“A sting?” she repeated. “I fear you are -very thin-skinned, M. de Tavernay.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps I am,” I admitted humbly. “I shall -try to remedy the fault.”</p> - -<p>“Do,” she urged. “But I was about to say -that you have not yet wholly explained yourself.”</p> - -<p>“I think I have told the whole story,” I said, -casting my mind back over its details. “I can -think of nothing that I have omitted.”</p> - -<p>She sat for a moment looking at me, her lips -parted, the color coming and going in her cheeks.</p> - -<p>“You said some time ago,” she went on at -last, “that I was concerned with this story—that -it was for that reason you desired my advice.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, that is true, mademoiselle.”</p> - -<p>“Well, you have not yet explained to me what -you meant by that, my friend.”</p> - -<p>A sudden trembling seized me as I met her eyes.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span>“I thought you knew,” I began hoarsely. “I -thought you guessed.”</p> - -<p>“I am not good at guessing,” she said, looking -up at me, her eyes radiant, her hands against her -heart.</p> - -<p>“I meant,” I stammered, “I meant——”</p> - -<p>But my lips refused to form the words; my -heart turned faint——</p> - -<p>“Oh,” she said, in a low voice. “I understand;” -and she played for a moment with the -rose at her bosom. “You mean, then, that it is -I who have wrought this change in you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” I assented; and caught my breath to -choke back the sob which rose in my throat.</p> - -<p>She looked at me with a little frown, which -changed in an instant to an arch smile.</p> - -<p>“Come,” she said, “confess that you are easily -impressed, and that you will forget as easily.”</p> - -<p>“I shall never forget!”</p> - -<p>“Remember the proverb—‘That which flames -at a touch dies at a breath.’”</p> - -<p>“I care nothing for proverbs. I know my own -heart.”</p> - -<p>“But consider, my friend;” and she leaned -forward in her earnestness until she almost -touched me, until the sweet glow of her body -penetrated to me. “You have known me only a -few hours. I am the first woman you have met -on riding forth into the world. You mistake a -goose for a swan. I assure you that there are -many women beside whom you would not give me -a second glance. Indeed, it is very possible that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span> -your betrothed may be one of them. So you -will soon recover from this madness; in a day or -two it will have quite passed away. The path of -honor leads you to Poitiers and there you will find -happiness as well. In time you will come to -wonder at this night’s emotion, and to laugh at it. -You will look back and you will say to yourself, -‘What a fool I was!’”</p> - -<p>“It is true,” I said slowly, “that I may be a -fool in desiring what I can never hope to possess; -but at least, mademoiselle, do me the justice to -believe that I shall never cease to desire it. I do -not know how to tell you, for I have no skill in -the phrases of love. I only know that you have -touched in me a chord which will never cease to -beat until the heart itself is still. It is not your -beauty, though you are very beautiful; it is not the -tone of your voice, though that is very sweet; it -is not your smile, though that drives me to madness. -It is something beyond and behind all that; -it is something which for want of a better name -I call your soul—that which looks out of your eyes -so clear and pure that I tremble before it, knowing -my own unworthiness. It is your soul that I -love, mademoiselle, and no lapse of time, no chance -of fortune—nothing in earth or heaven—can -alter that love one atom.”</p> - -<p>I have heard that love gives eyes to the blind, -ears to the deaf, a tongue to the dumb. I know -that at that moment, as my heart burned within -me and the words rushed unbidden to my lips, the -world appeared a small and trivial thing, with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span> -nothing worthy in it save me and this woman -and the love I had for her. I have no words to -describe the emotion which shook me, the passion -which flowed in my veins and took possession of -my being. It was as if a sudden miracle had been -wrought in me, a sublimation of everything unworthy; -it was as though I had climbed a mountain -peak and come out under the clear stars, in -the thin pure air, with nothing between myself -and God. I have never again reached a height -quite so sublime, or experienced a bliss quite so -poignant.</p> - -<p>I was too blinded for the moment by my own -emotion to see my companion clearly; only her -starry eyes I saw, and her parted lips, and her -clasped hands. Then she drew away from me and -seemed to shake herself as though awaking from -a dream; and a cold breath blew upon me, and I, -too, awoke. The spell was broken, the vision -ended, the glorious moment gone.</p> - -<p>“Indeed,” she said, her voice not wholly steady, -but her eyes instinct with mischief, “it seems to -me that you are fairly eloquent, M. de Tavernay, -despite your lack of practise. I tremble to think -what you will be in a year’s time.”</p> - -<p>“I shall be just what I am now,” I said doggedly, -wounded at her tone. “You have sounded -the height and depth of my eloquence.”</p> - -<p>“And am I to believe all this?”</p> - -<p>“If you do not, mademoiselle, it is not because -it is not true.”</p> - -<p>“But your betrothed,” she persisted, “has she -no attractions?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span>“I have not seen her since she was a child of -eight,” I answered coldly. “I remember only -that she had white hair and a red nose.”</p> - -<p>She burst into a peal of laughter which shook -her from head to foot, and which I thought exceedingly -ill-timed.</p> - -<p>“Many children have,” she said, when she could -speak articulately. “I should not allow such little -things as those to prejudice me against her. No -doubt her hair is darker now, and that redness of -the nose may have been only temporary. Perhaps -her memory of you is no more complimentary.”</p> - -<p>“That is very likely,” I admitted.</p> - -<p>“Think, then,” she cried, “how agreeably she -will be surprised when she sees you! Unless -indeed she has already lost her heart to some handsome -fellow of Poitiers.”</p> - -<p>“I trust not,” I said. “I trust not.”</p> - -<p>“And why?” she queried sharply.</p> - -<p>“I would not wish her to be unhappy also.”</p> - -<p>She sat a moment silent at that.</p> - -<p>“You mean that even if she has,” she asked at -last, “you will hold her to the betrothal?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no!” I answered, instantly; “she would -be free—that is, if she chose to be free.”</p> - -<p>“If she chose to be?”</p> - -<p>“Her father would hold her to her oath,” -said I.</p> - -<p>“And you believe he would have a right to do -that?” she demanded, wheeling upon me fiercely. -“You believe that he would have a right to compel -her obedience, to force her into this marriage, to -make her miserable?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span>“Yes,” I answered, after a moment’s thought, -“I am sure he would. The law is very clear.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, the law!” she cried, impatiently. “I was -not thinking of the law—I care nothing for the -law—a poor, stumbling device of stupid men, -whose meaning even they do not understand! -Would he have the <i>right</i>?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” I repeated, “I believe he would. He -had passed his word.”</p> - -<p>“And his word is of more importance than his -daughter’s happiness?” she demanded, her eyes -blazing.</p> - -<p>“Undoubtedly,” I answered, feeling myself on -firm ground at last. “His honor is of more -importance to him than anything else on earth.”</p> - -<p>“Honor!” she echoed, contemptuously. “An -empty word men frighten women with!”</p> - -<p>“No!” I cried. “A rock to cling to in time -of storm, even as I am clinging to it now.”</p> - -<p>She sat for a moment looking at me darkly.</p> - -<p>“You men are all alike,” she said at last. -“Lords of creation, before whom we women must -bow in all humility.”</p> - -<p>“Even as you are doing at this moment,” I -retorted.</p> - -<p>She laughed at that, and the cloud vanished -from her face.</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” she said. “After all, I was -tilting at windmills. There is small danger that -your betrothed has given her heart into another’s -keeping. More probably she is guarding it -sacredly for you. A girl has not a man’s opportunities<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span> -for falling in love—nor a man’s temptations. -Besides—oh, I can be frank with you, for -I feel almost like your sister!—permit me to tell -you, monsieur, that I think you a very handsome -fellow, quite capable of consoling her for the loss -of any girlish flame!”</p> - -<p>I did not like the words, nor the tone in which -they were uttered. They lacked that sympathy, -that consideration, which I felt I had the right -to expect from her. Perhaps, too, my vanity -was wounded by my very evident failure to touch -her heart.</p> - -<p>“You are not treating me fairly, mademoiselle,” -I said, “nor kindly.”</p> - -<p>“You will pardon me,” she retorted, her face -fairly beaming, “if I fail to see the situation in -such tragic light as you. It has for me an element -of humor.”</p> - -<p>“It is fortunate that I at least continue to amuse -you,” I said grimly.</p> - -<p>“Yes; there are not many people who amuse -me. Besides, I am quite certain that a year hence, -when you look back at this night, you also will -be amused. I am flattered by your passion, since -it proves that under certain favorable circumstances -I am not devoid of attraction. But I -should be extremely foolish to take it seriously—more -especially since you are already betrothed.”</p> - -<p>“You are right,” I assented bitterly. “I am a -coward to try to entangle you.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you will not entangle me,” she answered -easily. “I shall take good care to keep a tight<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span> -grip on my heart. But all that does not prevent -me liking you immensely, M. de Tavernay. I -have often wished,” she went on, gazing at me -from under half-closed lashes in a most provoking -fashion, “that it were possible for me to have as a -friend a man in whom I could wholly trust—a -man young enough to understand the illusions of -youth—young enough not to adopt toward me -that paternal attitude which I detest—one whose -kindness and sympathy I could always count upon -and in whom I could confide. But I told myself -that such a wish could never be fulfilled; that such -friendships were too dangerous, that such a man -did not exist. And yet, behold, here I have found -him and he is bound in such a manner that there -is no danger for either of us.”</p> - -<p>“I would not be too sure of that, mademoiselle,” -I interrupted. “The bonds have not yet -been forged which could not somehow be broken.”</p> - -<p>“But bonds of honor!” she protested. “It -is your word!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, even those! There is a limit to endurance;” -and I gripped my hands together to keep -them away from her.</p> - -<p>“Well, that limit shall not be passed, M. de -Tavernay,” she assured me, her lips breaking into -a smile, and, quite regardless of her danger, she -leaned nearer to me. “Besides I have a deep confidence -in you. The sentiments you have to-night -expressed completely reassure me—I see now how -foolish I was to think there could be any risk in -coming here with you.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span>It was a two-edged compliment and I did not -relish it, but she was gazing up at me with eyes so -guileless and trusting that I choked back the words -which rose in my throat. Perhaps, had I been -older and more experienced with women, I might -have seen the flicker of mischief which I suspect -dwelt in their depths. Guilelessness is a favorite -snare of Circe’s.</p> - -<p>“Let me whisper you a secret,” she added, -leaning toward me, a little quirk at the corner of -her lips, “your betrothed is a charming girl!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you know her!” I said, and stared at her -gloomily, for she seemed to delight in torturing -me.</p> - -<p>“No—I have never met her—have never even -seen her,” and she laughed to herself as she uttered -the words; “but I have heard her spoken of. -With her, you will soon forget this poor Charlotte -de Chambray—you will fall in love with her even -more desperately than you have with me, and she -will make you happy.”</p> - -<p>“And will you regret that, mademoiselle?” I -asked, realizing the folly of the question, but -unable to suppress it.</p> - -<p>“Not in the least!” she retorted, and burst into -a peal of laughter at sight of my crestfallen countenance—though -it seemed to me that her face -showed traces of crimson, too.</p> - -<p>But there is, as I had said, a limit to endurance. -Her mockery raised in me suddenly a fierce madness—a -carelessness of what might follow. I -groped for her blindly, my arms were about her,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span> -crushing her to me with a sort of savage fury. -The mockery was gone from her eyes now; she -tried to beat me off, then, with a little sob, hid -her face upon my shoulder. But pity was not in -me, only a fierce exulting, and I raised her face, I -lifted her lips to mine and kissed them desperately, -passionately, again and again.</p> - -<p>Then I released her and stood erect, my blood -on fire, a great joy at my heart.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VII.<br /> - -<span class="small">I DARE AND AM FORGIVEN.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">For</span> a moment she did not stir, only sat there -crushed and dazed, staring straight before her, as -though not understanding what had happened. -And looking down at her my mood of exultation -in my triumph changed suddenly to one of pity -for her weakness. I had felt precisely the same -emotion many times before, when, having brought -down a bird or a rabbit by some daring or difficult -shot, I came to the spot where my victim lay -bleeding its life out. Pity for my victim always -outweighed the satisfaction which the successful -shot had given me, and I would tramp sadly home, -resolved to hunt no more.</p> - -<p>So, gazing down at that bowed head, I felt -pity for her rise warm within my heart. She was -right. Men were brutes—crushing women by -their strength, pulling them down, taking their -will of them, then faring gaily on without a -thought for the shame and suffering they left -behind. So it had always been.</p> - -<p>At last she looked up at me, and her eyes were -very cold.</p> - -<p>“Was that the act of a gentleman?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“It was not,” I said, and at my tone I saw her -start and look up at me more keenly. No doubt<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span> -she had expected to hear in my voice a note of -triumph.</p> - -<p>“You are ready, then, to apologize?” she continued, -after a moment.</p> - -<p>“I sincerely beg your pardon, mademoiselle.”</p> - -<p>“You see I was wrong to trust you—to come -here into the garden with you. But I thought -you a man of honor!”</p> - -<p>“I thought myself so,” I said.</p> - -<p>“And your excuse?”</p> - -<p>“I was tempted and I fell.”</p> - -<p>“That has been man’s retort since the days of -Adam!” she said with scorn. “A retort which -I consider ungenerous and ungentlemanly.”</p> - -<p>“Well, it has not been without some justification,” -I said, my spirits rising, as I saw that here, -at least, was a victim capable of self-defense. -“But I apologize.”</p> - -<p>“You promise that the act shall never be repeated?” -she asked with great severity.</p> - -<p>“I promise that freely.”</p> - -<p>“But will you keep the promise? You see I -have a reason to distrust you, M. de Tavernay.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I will keep it,” I said. “I have the -memory of this night to live on;” and my heart -warmed at the thought. “Always I shall have -the memory of this night to live on!”</p> - -<p>She flushed slightly and her eyes softened and -wavered, but only for an instant.</p> - -<p>“And what of your loyalty to your betrothed?” -she queried with biting irony.</p> - -<p>But even that failed to wound me, to pierce the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span> -garment of joy in which I was once again -enveloped.</p> - -<p>“It shall never again be broken,” I said. “But -nothing she can do will change the past.”</p> - -<p>“You mean you would not have it changed?”</p> - -<p>“No!” I cried. “No! It is the dearest thing -I have. I am proud of it! I glory in it! I shall -keep it always warm against my heart.”</p> - -<p>“Do you know, I suspect you are something of -a poet, M. de Tavernay?” she said, after a -moment’s inspection of my face from under half-closed -lids.</p> - -<p>“Oh, no!” I protested. “It is love makes me -appear so.”</p> - -<p>Again she contemplated me for a moment, a -puzzling smile playing about her lips.</p> - -<p>“Come, monsieur,” she said suddenly, “I am -going to be generous. Sit down again. You see, -I have faith in you. Besides, I wish to keep my -friend, if I can. After all, perhaps you <i>may</i> care -for me—although, I repeat, it is only for the -moment.”</p> - -<p>“You do not really think so,” I interrupted; -“but let it pass.”</p> - -<p>“Besides, you are very young.”</p> - -<p>“Not so young as you, mademoiselle.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I am immensely older. I am an elder -sister who must take you in hand and form you.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, everybody wishes to form me,” I cried, -impatiently. “I have no desire to be formed—I -will form myself.”</p> - -<p>“Who wished to form you?” she demanded<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span> -quickly with a peremptoriness that astonished me.</p> - -<p>“Why, old Dubosq,” I answered. “The fellow -who halted me just out of Tours.”</p> - -<p>She breathed a sigh of relief which astonished -me even more than had her question.</p> - -<p>“He was a man, that fellow,” I added. “I -should like to meet him again—a dashing rascal.”</p> - -<p>“Of course—he flattered you,” she said, looking -at me coolly. “I know what he said to you -as well as though I had heard him say it.”</p> - -<p>“What did he say?”</p> - -<p>“He said, ‘All you need, my friend, is a little -more polish, and you will be a perfect devil with -the ladies.’”</p> - -<p>I stared at her, my mouth open, for she had -caught Dubosq’s intonation to a shade.</p> - -<p>“And then he leered,” she added, “and twisted -his mustaches. But the most disgusting thing is -that you believed him, and you smirked and would -have twisted your mustaches too, but that you -are too young to have any. Oh, men are all -alike—foul, despicable creatures! And then you -come here, riding very erect, those words repeating -themselves over and over in your bosom—and -you pretend——” She broke off suddenly, -and turned upon me furiously. “Are you in -the habit of attacking young women in that -fashion?” she demanded.</p> - -<p>“No, mademoiselle,” I stammered, shrinking -from this terrific assault which touched every joint -in my armor. “I have never before kissed a -young woman.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span>She looked at me again, caught her breath, her -hand against her heart; and then she blushed and -smiled and her eyes grew very tender. By some -miracle I had found the answer that turned away -wrath.</p> - -<p>“There, M. de Tavernay,” she said, holding -out her hand impulsively, “I forgive you from my -heart. We shall be friends. And forget that -nonsense I was talking.”</p> - -<p>I bent and kissed the fingers, so warm, so soft, -so fragrant.</p> - -<p>“If I might have a pledge of it,” I said, -with sudden boldness. “That flower at your -breast——”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense!” she cried. “You need no pledge -of it. And now,” she added, “I must be going -in. Madame will be terribly scandalized.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, do not go,” I protested, and retained her -hand in mine. “Think—we may never again be -alone together—certainly never like this, in an -enchanted garden, with the moon looking down -upon us, full of counsel and encouragement.”</p> - -<p>“The moon has never been noted for the wisdom -of its counsel,” she retorted; “and as for -encouragement, you certainly need none.”</p> - -<p>“But give me a little longer,” I pleaded, -trembling at the thought of parting from her. -“Sit here beside me and let me look at you. Ah, -I already know every feature, every curl of the -hair. It is not at that I wish to look, but at the -soul in your eyes. I know you do not love me, -and yet it seems to me that your soul and mine<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span> -were destined for each other. I cannot really -believe that we are to be kept apart. I hear within -myself a voice which says that there can be no -happiness for me apart from you. I ask for nothing -more than to sit on here forever with you -beside me, your hand in mine.”</p> - -<p>She leaned away from me into the corner of -the seat, and I fancied she shivered slightly.</p> - -<p>“You are cold,” I said remorsefully. “I -have been thoughtless. The air is chilly and a -mist is rising from the river. May I get my -cloak for you?”</p> - -<p>“No, M. de Tavernay,” she answered, rising to -her feet somewhat unsteadily. “I must really -leave you. Remember, we are to start for Poitiers -in the morning, and I have many things to do.”</p> - -<p>It would have been selfish to protest, heartless -to expose her longer to the dampness of the night.</p> - -<p>“At least,” I said, “I shall ride by the window -of the coach to-morrow, where I can still see you.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she laughed, “and I think I can promise -that madame will even permit you to speak to me, -if you are very good. Come.”</p> - -<p>I walked beside her along the gravelled path, -drinking in her beauty, exulting in my passion, -pressing to my heart the cross which tore me. -Past the tower we went, past the hedge which -framed the garden. I paused for a last look back -at it—ah, I had spent a happy hour there!</p> - -<p>“There will never be another night like this!” -I said. “Never, never can there be another night -like this!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span>“Dear garden!” my companion murmured, -and threw a kiss to it.</p> - -<p>“Then you will remember it, too?” I asked, -scarce breathing.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes,” she answered, very softly. “It is -the place where I have gained a—friend!”</p> - -<p>It was not the word I had hoped for, but the -most, no doubt, I could expect. I went on beside -her, my head bowed. A friend! A friend! Ah, -it was something more than that my heart desired.</p> - -<p>At last we came to the broad flight of steps -which led upward to the terrace.</p> - -<p>“I must leave you here, monsieur,” she said, -and mounted a step or two, then turned and looked -down at me with eyes that glowed and glowed -with a strange inward light.</p> - -<p>A mad impulse seized me to fling honor to the -winds, to throw myself upon my knees, to implore -her to flee with me somewhere—anywhere—to a -wilderness, a desert island, where there would be -only we and our love.</p> - -<p>Perhaps she guessed my thought, for she smiled -tremulously and held out her hand to me very -tenderly.</p> - -<p>“Take courage, my friend,” she said. “There -is a voice speaking to me also. It tells me that -fate will not be so cruel as you think; it promises -that your future shall, after all, be happy.”</p> - -<p>I bent and kissed her hand with lips that -trembled so I could scarce control them. For an -instant she laid her other hand lightly upon my -head, as though in benediction, then turned and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span> -went on up the steps. But at the top she paused, -looked down at me, leaned toward me.</p> - -<p>“My love! My love!” I murmured, a mist -before my eyes.</p> - -<p>She gazed down at me a moment longer—into -my eyes, into my soul. Then, with a sudden -movement, she took the rose from her bosom, -kissed it and flung it down to me with a gesture -divine, adorable. When I raised my head from the -flower she was gone.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VIII.<br /> - -<span class="small">A SERPENT IN THE GARDEN.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> thought of entering the house revolted -me. I needed the high heavens to give room for -my happiness, the moon and the stars for confidants, -the breeze of the night to cool the fever -in my veins. To enter the house would be to -break the spell, to bring me back again to that -earth which my feet seemed scarcely to touch. So -I retraced my steps to the white seat at the end -of the garden, sat down where she had sat, and -abandoned myself to a delicious reverie. I put -all thought of the morrow from me—of the morrow -when we must separate; all thought of that -gray future which would never be brightened by -sight of her, by the light of her eyes and the smile -of her lips—all this I put away.</p> - -<p>I had only to close my eyes to bring her again to -my side. What a miracle she was—what a wonder -of God’s handiwork! The clear and delicate skin, -the hair with its glint of gold, the eyes with their -arched brows and upturned lashes, the lips trembling -with sympathy or curving with scorn, the -oval chin showing just a suspicion of a dimple, the -rounded figure promising I know not what allurements -and perfections—all these I contemplated -one by one, and seemed to catch again that exquisite -<i>odeur de femme</i> which had ravished and -intoxicated me as I held her in my arms.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span>And behind and above all this, the soul—a -woman’s soul in its delicacy and sweetness, yet -with a certain manliness about it, too, in its high -ideals, its conception of honor and duty, its -courage and devotion, its reverence for the -pledged word—something of the oak as well as -of the ivy, almost as if she had been raised among -men rather than among women, and had come to -look at the world somewhat with a man’s eye. -Yes, and there was something manlike, too, in -her independence, her impatience of convention, -her self-reliance. Not that all this destroyed or -even clouded the woman in her—that quality of -siren and coquette which is in every woman’s -blood. Rather it enhanced it, gave it a sauce and -piquancy not to be withstood.</p> - -<p>For a moment she had been mine—I had dared -and been forgiven. She had been kind to me; -she had been moved by my love; she had thrown -me a flower at parting. And at thought of it, I -took it from my bosom and pressed it to my lips. -I inhaled its fragrance, which somehow seemed a -part of her; I contemplated its beauty, in which -I saw hers reflected. She had been kind to me. -I even dared to think she had been kinder yet, did -fate permit, and the thought gave me a throbbing -joy—a selfish joy, I told myself, since I had no -right to make her suffer, too.</p> - -<p>Yet human nature is but an imperfect thing, and -love is selfish in its unselfishness. In my heart -of hearts I was glad—glad that she would remember -me, that she would think tenderly of our<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span> -evening in the garden, and of my kisses on her -lips. The memory thrilled through me. I thanked -God that I had been brave enough to snatch that -moment’s joy, that there was that between us! -That there would always be; no stretch of time -nor stress of circumstance could alter it—it was -woven indelibly into the texture of our lives. -Whenever she thought of me, whenever she visited -this garden, yea, whenever any other dared -speak to her of love, she must recall that moment -when I had held her close against my heart and -raised her lips to mine!</p> - -<p>And I—could I kiss another woman?</p> - -<p>I sat erect with a quick intaking of the breath, -for I saw in my path a new pitfall, and one of -my own digging.</p> - -<p>Must I confess to my betrothed that my heart -was in another’s keeping, or did honor bid me to -keep silent, to simulate affection, to lead her to -the altar in the belief that it was she I loved? -Oh, I should not shrink from confession; and -she had the right to know—yet—yet would I not -confess in the hope that she would set me free?</p> - -<p>But if she should feel as I did about this marriage, -that honor demanded its consummation, that -duty compelled her to sacrifice herself, whatever -my offenses, would not such confession merely -embitter her cup to no purpose? Yet even if I -did not confess, would I be strong enough, self-controlled -enough to cheat her woman’s eyes?</p> - -<p>Here was a question not easily answered; a -dilemma the most awkward; a problem which I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span> -felt I could not solve alone. I could only hope that -during our ride next day to Poitiers I might have -opportunity to lay it before Mlle. de Chambray. -She, I felt sure, would with her clear vision see -instantly where my duty lay.</p> - -<p>So I put the problem from me and lay back in -the seat and closed my eyes and lived over again, -minute by minute, that brief, delicious evening. I -recalled every look, every word, every gesture from -the instant I had first perceived her on the -threshold of the drawing-room until that other -instant when at parting she had tossed the flower -down to me. I held it to my lips and murmured -low to it the words I had not dared to utter in -her hearing.</p> - -<p>Ah, <i>mesdames et messieurs</i>, you smile, perhaps, -and shrug your shoulders! But in your own -lives has there not been some such moment? At -least I trust so! Recall it!—and remember that -I was young and ardent; remember that love had -come to me not timidly by slow steps, but with one -glorious burst of happiness, flinging wide the -gates of my heart at a single touch, as, to my -mind, love always should. But if you have had -no such moment, if you have stopped your ears -and hurried on when love called you to tarry—if -life is for you so poor, and gray, and savorless—then, -I pray you, put this tale aside, for of that -which follows you will understand not a word. -Nor indeed would I care to tell it to such an -audience.</p> - -<p>How long I sat there, wrapped in this garment<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span> -of purest joy, I know not—an hour perhaps, or -even two. I was aroused by the rattle of oar in -rowlock coming from the river at my feet. I -glanced out absently across the water just as a -boat shot from the shadow of the farther shore, -crossed the strip of moonlight in mid-stream, and -disappeared again into the shadow cast by the -trees which edged the garden.</p> - -<p>I saw it clearly but an instant; yet that instant -had sufficed to wake me from my abstraction, -for it showed me that the boat was weighted deep -in the water with a crowd of men who wore -about their necks the tri-colored scarf of the -Republic.</p> - -<p>As I stared down at the river, trying to comprehend -the meaning of this vision, a second boat -similarly loaded followed the first.</p> - -<p>I sat intent, listening to the rattle of the oars. -Then I heard the boats grate upon the gravel of -the bank and the sound of men leaving them, talking -together in voices so subdued that only a -faint murmur reached me.</p> - -<p>What could it mean? What was the object of -this midnight expedition?</p> - -<p>Then my heart stood still. The soldiers had -entered the garden and were advancing cautiously -in the shadow of the hedge. The grass muffled -their footsteps, but now and then gun clanked -against bayonet, or scabbard against boot. I -sat where I was, quite secure in my clump of -evergreens, straining my ears, my eyes, trying to -understand. I could just discern the squad as it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span> -approached, halted, moved on again; and each -time it left behind it a dim figure, stationary in -the shadow. As I stared, the leader came suddenly -into a patch of moonlight. His face was -turned toward the château, and instantly I recognized -the rough countenance, the fierce mustachios -of Dubosq.</p> - -<p>In a flash I understood. They were after M. le -Comte. They were posting sentries about the -house. Dubosq was making sure that this time -his quarry would not break through the trap.</p> - -<p>I started to my feet, then instantly sank back -again, for the squad was almost upon me. I must -get to the house; I must warn M. le Comte; yet -to attempt it at this moment was to invite disaster, -not only for myself, but for him. I must -wait; I must watch my chance; I must get to the -house unseen. Dubosq must not suspect our -knowledge of his movements. I could picture the -fierce joy which filled him at the thought that his -hour of vengeance was at hand.</p> - -<p>Still the squad came forward. At last it halted -so close behind me that I might almost have -stretched out my hand and touched the nearest -man. I crouched low in the seat and sat with -bated breath.</p> - -<p>“You understand,” Dubosq’s voice said, “you -are to remain here until you hear the cry of an -owl thrice repeated. You will then advance -toward the château as quietly as possible and keeping -in touch with the other sentries. If any man -attempts to leave the house or to enter it, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span> -refuses to halt at your challenge, do not hesitate, -but shoot him instantly.”</p> - -<p>“And the women?”</p> - -<p>“The women are not to be harmed—that is -imperative. They must not escape, but the man -who injures them shall answer for it.”</p> - -<p>“They are aristocrats, like the others,” growled -the sentry.</p> - -<p>“That is true,” agreed Dubosq; “but Citizen -Goujon hopes to convert them.”</p> - -<p>“Pah!” said the fellow contemptuously. “Has -one of them ever been converted? Answer me -that, citizen!”</p> - -<p>“Come,” said Dubosq, sharply, “I have given -you the orders. See that you obey them. Forward!”</p> - -<p>The squad moved on past me toward the -château, and I cautiously raised my head above -the back of the seat and peered around. The -sentry had been posted so close to me that I could -hear him still growling to himself.</p> - -<p>“A Septembrist!” I told myself. “A monster! -An assassin!”</p> - -<p>But as I looked at him I could scarcely believe -that this was the bloodthirsty ruffian whose voice -I had listened to. He stood leaning on his musket, -staring toward the château, and a beam of light -falling full upon his face revealed a mere youth, -with features finely chiselled and the dreamy eyes -of a poet. His hair clustered about his face in -little curls, his lips were curved and sensitive as -any woman’s. I stared at him amazed; then suddenly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span> -I understood. This was one of those who -fought for an ideal, who fancied that the era of -universal brotherhood was at hand, and that the -Revolution was to make it possible—one to whom -“Liberty, equality, fraternity” was not a mere -phrase, but a vision to be realized. I had heard -of such, but never until that moment had I believed -in their existence. Could it be that after -all the Revolution had in it a germ of good, a -possibility of light?</p> - -<p>I shook the thought away—it was absurd to -suppose that good could spring from murder and -outrage, that light could come from a darkness so -revolting. This was not a moment for theories, -but for deeds. I must go; I must make a dash -for it. I should fall, of course. He could scarcely -miss me in that clear light. But the shot would -alarm the house, would give its occupants at least -a moment to prepare for their defense. That, at -any rate, I could accomplish.</p> - -<p>I gathered myself for the spring. Just ahead of -me lay a strip of moonlit lawn—it was there that -the peril lay—it was there he would bring me -down. And the shot would precipitate the attack.</p> - -<p>I paused. If there was no alarm at least twenty -minutes would be required to post the sentries and -to make sure there was no break in the chain. -Perhaps there was another and a better way. -Perhaps I could leap upon the sentry and bear him -down before he could give the alarm.</p> - -<p>I raised my head cautiously and looked at him -again, measuring the distance. He was humming<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span> -the “Marseillaise,” his thoughts evidently far -away, for his eyes were lifted and he was staring -absently up at the clear heavens. Had I a dagger -I could have struck him down. But I had no -weapon; and even had there been a dagger in -my hand I doubt if I could have nerved my arm -to the blow, so pure, so youthful did he appear -at that moment—younger than I. And somehow -I understood that there in the sky he saw a face -smiling down at him.</p> - -<p>I shook myself savagely and called myself a -fool. Since he had espoused the cause of murderers -he must suffer like any other—this was no -time to hesitate. Again I measured the distance -and noted his abstraction. I would be upon him -at a single bound, and, my fingers once at his -throat, I knew that he would not cry out.</p> - -<p>Suddenly, in the shadow back of him I fancied -I saw a deeper shadow move. I strained my eyes. -Yes!—there it was—another sentinel perhaps, and -my heart fell. And yet, why did he advance so -slowly, why did he crouch so near the earth? Was -it man or beast?</p> - -<p>Breathlessly I watched it, vague, inchoate, -scarce discernible; but the menace of its attitude, -the meaning of that slow advance, was unmistakable. -A man, undoubtedly, since in Poitou no -such bloodthirsty beast of prey existed. But who—who? -I glanced again at the sentry’s unconscious -face, so pure, so innocent. Should I warn -him? Should I——</p> - -<p>The shadow stood suddenly erect, a knife flashed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span> -in the air, and the sentry fell forward upon the -grass, coughing softly. The shadow bent over -the prostrate figure, the knife flashed again and -the coughing ceased.</p> - -<p>Chilled with horror as I was, I nevertheless -realized that the moment for escape had arrived. -I slid from the seat and crept forward toward -the house, across that staring disk of moonlit lawn -where it seemed that the light of all the suns in -heaven was beating down upon me; then, with a -deep breath of thankfulness, into the shadow of -the shrubbery again. There I stood erect, and -softly but rapidly pressed forward. I gained the -walk. Before me was the open window—a -moment more——</p> - -<p>Then I heard swift, soft steps behind me, and a -chill of terror ran up my spine and seemed to -stiffen the hair upon my head; for I knew that -the slayer of the sentry was pursuing me, knife -in hand—red, dripping knife in hand! Numb -with fear, I nerved myself for the struggle; but -even as I turned a powerful and cruel hand was -laid roughly on my shoulder.</p> - -<p>“Proceed, monsieur,” whispered a hoarse voice -in my ear. “Proceed. I will go with you.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IX.<br /> - -<span class="small">PASDELOUP.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">I struck</span> the hand from my shoulder and -wheeled sharp around, ready for any violence.</p> - -<p>“Go! monsieur,” he repeated. “Go! Do not -tarry here.”</p> - -<p>“Who are you?” I demanded, trying in vain to -see his face, which was only a dim blur in the -darkness.</p> - -<p>“No matter. You do not know me. Hasten!”</p> - -<p>“Then you shall not enter!” I said, and braced -myself for the attack I thought must follow.</p> - -<p>“You are wasting time,” he growled, and -stamped with impatience. “On your head be it!”</p> - -<p>“Why do you seek to enter?”</p> - -<p>“I tell you I am a friend. I tell you I come to -warn M. le Comte——”</p> - -<p>“You told me nothing of the sort,” I broke in. -“Again, who are you?”</p> - -<p>“My name is Pasdeloup, and I swear that if -you do not stand aside I will give you a taste of -this knife.”</p> - -<p>I breathed a sigh of relief.</p> - -<p>“The gatekeeper?” I asked; and I remembered -the glow of adoration which had lighted his countenance -as he gazed after his master.</p> - -<p>“The same,” he said impatiently. “Will you -stand aside?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span>“No; I will precede you,” I retorted; and in a -moment more we were both inside the house.</p> - -<p>As I turned to look at my companion I saw it -was indeed the stocky gatekeeper. Then my eyes -were drawn to his right hand, which clasped a -knife—a knife red with blood.</p> - -<p>“So it was you struck down the sentry?” I -murmured, and shivered a little at the recollection.</p> - -<p>“With this knife,” he answered, and returned -it to his belt. “If only the blow had killed them -all!”</p> - -<p>I pulled myself together with an effort and -glanced about the room. It was empty. The -candles were guttering in their holders.</p> - -<p>“Blow out the lights,” I said, “and bar the -windows. They may think we are retiring and -will wait till we have had time to get to bed. I -will warn M. le Comte.”</p> - -<p>He nodded without replying, and as I sprang -across the vestibule and mounted the stair I saw -him going from candle to candle with incredible -rapidity. I had intended sending a servant to -assist him, but there was no sign of any in either -vestibule or corridor.</p> - -<p>I sprang up the stair and found that the hall -above was also strangely empty. There was no -time for hesitation. Beneath the third door to -the left I perceived a ray of light. I strode to it -and knocked sharply.</p> - -<p>“Who is there?” called a voice which thrilled -me.</p> - -<p>“It is I, Tavernay, mademoiselle,” I answered,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span> -trying to speak calmly. “Dress yourself at -once——”</p> - -<p>“I have not yet undressed,” she said, and threw -open the door. “What is wrong, monsieur?”</p> - -<p>“The house is being surrounded by the Blues,” -I said rapidly. “But mademoiselle you must put -on a heavier gown than that and stouter shoes. -We may have to flee—to hide in the woods—and -the night is cold.”</p> - -<p>“Very well, monsieur,” she answered; and my -heart thrilled again at the calmness of her tone. -“I shall be ready in a moment.”</p> - -<p>“When you have finished,” I said, “blow out -your light as though you were retiring. Then wait -for me here at your door with your maid——”</p> - -<p>“My maid has disappeared,” she interrupted.</p> - -<p>“Disappeared?”</p> - -<p>“At least I cannot find her. No one answers -the bell.”</p> - -<p>“So much the better,” I assured her, though -my heart was heavy with foreboding. “The -smaller the party the greater our chance of escape. -Which is M. le Comte’s apartment?”</p> - -<p>“At the end of the corridor.”</p> - -<p>“I shall return at once,” I said, seized her hand, -kissed it and passed on.</p> - -<p>M. le Comte opened his door instantly in answer -to my knock, and at the first glimpse of my face -stepped out into the corridor and closed the door -behind him.</p> - -<p>“What is it, Tavernay?” he asked. “What -has happened?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span>“The Blues have arrived,” I answered rapidly; -“they are posting sentries about the house. I -recognized Dubosq, their leader—the same fellow -who tried to trap you this morning. This time -he is making certain that you shall not escape.”</p> - -<p>“Nor is that all,” said a low voice behind me.</p> - -<p>I turned quickly. It was Pasdeloup.</p> - -<p>“Pasdeloup!” cried his master. “What do -you here?”</p> - -<p>“I come to warn M. le Comte.”</p> - -<p>“Of what?”</p> - -<p>“The <i>canaille</i> of Dange are on their way to -sack the château.”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense!”</p> - -<p>“It is to be turned over to them as soon as -M. le Comte and the women are taken prisoner,” -continued Pasdeloup without noticing the interruption. -“Nor is that all. They are to be permitted -to seize M. le Comte and to use him as the -mob of Paris has already used so many.”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense, Pasdeloup!” repeated his master; -but his face had paled a little. “Where did you -hear such absurdities?”</p> - -<p>For answer, Pasdeloup pointed along the empty -corridor.</p> - -<p>“Where are your people, M. le Comte?” he -asked. “None here—none below—search the -whole house and you will find not one. An hour -ago they stole away along the road to Dange. I -alone could not be bribed or frightened into joining -them.”</p> - -<p>His master stared at him for a moment, then<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span> -down the empty corridor, his face of a sudden -gray and haggard, as the truth was borne in upon -him.</p> - -<p>“All?” he repeated hoarsely. “All? Even -Joseph? Even Marcelle?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur,” said Pasdeloup, laughing -grimly. “Even Joseph. Even Marcelle. I do -not say that they wished to go. I only know that -they were afraid to stay. Where it is a question -of one’s life or another’s, one saves oneself. That -is human nature.”</p> - -<p>M. le Comte stood yet a moment with bent -head, as though struck by a heavy blow.</p> - -<p>“And you?” he asked at last, looking at -Pasdeloup.</p> - -<p>Again Pasdeloup laughed grimly.</p> - -<p>“It is my nature, too,” he said. “Only I am -not so easily frightened. Permit me to remind -you, M. le Comte,” he added, “that there is no -time to lose.”</p> - -<p>His master controlled his emotion by a mighty -effort.</p> - -<p>“You are right,” he said. “We must get -away.”</p> - -<p>“There is a break in the line of sentries,” I -suggested. “Perhaps we can get through;” but -my heart fell as I thought how nearly impossible -it was.</p> - -<p>“At least we can try. Do you get Charlotte, -monsieur. I will bring madame.”</p> - -<p>I sped along the corridor, pausing only an -instant at my room to snatch up sword and pistols<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span> -and ammunition-pouch. Mlle. de Chambray was -awaiting me, wrapped to the chin in a dark cloak, -more beautiful than ever.</p> - -<p>“I am ready, monsieur,” she murmured, her -eyes shining like twin stars.</p> - -<p>“There is yet a chance,” I said. “Come;” -and I took her hand. “I love you!” I whispered -as we sped down the corridor together. “Whatever -happens to me to-night, remember—I love -you!”</p> - -<p>She replied with a pressure of the fingers and a -little tremulous smile.</p> - -<p>“I shall remember,” she said softly. “Is our -case, then, so very desperate?”</p> - -<p>“It could not well be more so.”</p> - -<p>“My friend,” she whispered, still more softly, -“tell me that you forgive me——”</p> - -<p>From the garden came the shrill cry of an owl, -thrice repeated.</p> - -<p>“Too late!” I groaned. “Too late!”</p> - -<p>We were at M. le Comte’s door. Pasdeloup -was leaning against the wall, his arms folded, his -face very grim. My companion shrank back with -a little gasp of dismay at sight of him.</p> - -<p>“He is a friend,” I said. “Where is M. le -Comte?”</p> - -<p>As though in answer to the question, the door -opened and M. le Comte appeared on the threshold, -his wife at his side.</p> - -<p>“We are too late!” I cried. “The signal has -been given—the sentries are closing in. A moment -more——”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span>A great crash echoed through the house, a sound -of breaking glass, a clamor of muskets beating -against door and shutter.</p> - -<p>“To the tower!” cried M. le Comte. “This -way!”</p> - -<p>We followed him around a turn in the corridor, -down a short flight of steps and along another -corridor so dark that, trembling at my temerity, -I passed my arm about my companion and pressed -her to me in order that she might not fall.</p> - -<p>“We shall escape!” I whispered. “We shall -escape! God will not permit us to be killed like -this!”</p> - -<p>I fancied that she drew closer to me, but I could -not see her face.</p> - -<p>“Here we are,” said M. le Comte. Then there -came the click of a latch, the creaking of rusty -hinges, and a gust of cold air rushed out upon us. -We pressed forward into the black pit beyond. -The door clanged shut behind us, and at the same -instant a shot rang out and I heard the pang of a -bullet as it struck the iron.</p> - -<p>“Just a breath too late!” said M. le Comte with -a grim laugh and dropped the great bars into place. -“They will not soon get past this door,” he added, -as we stopped to take breath. “It is as solid as -the wall itself. We are safe for a time at least.”</p> - -<p>“You are there, Charlotte?” asked madame’s -voice. “You are safe?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, madame,” answered my companion. -“M. de Tavernay has taken good care of me.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span>She gently drew away from me, but left her -hand in mine.</p> - -<p>“I hope you will leave her in my care, madame,” -I said. “It is a welcome trust.”</p> - -<p>“So your spirits survive even this misfortune, -monsieur?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, madame,” I answered, “they would survive -much greater ones if—if only——”</p> - -<p>“Well?” she prompted, “if?—continue, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“If only I might choose the persons with whom -to endure them,” I said boldly.</p> - -<p>“You are right, Tavernay!” cried M. le Comte. -“So long as a man has beside him the woman he -loves he can face the world with a cheerful heart. -But come, let us ascend to the platform.”</p> - -<p>We mounted after him, stumbling up the stairs, -one flight, two flights, three. To guide her steps -in the darkness I ventured again to slip my arm -about my companion’s waist.</p> - -<p>“You heard?” I whispered. “You are not -angry that I permitted them to guess?”</p> - -<p>“No,” she answered softly, and with a strange -little laugh. “Perhaps they had already guessed. -Besides, I do not think I shall ever be angry with -you again, M. de Tavernay.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, you love me!—you love me, then!” I -whispered, rapturously, and drew her still closer -to me.</p> - -<p>“Not now, my friend!” she protested, tremulously. -“I beg of you, not now! Do not forget -your promise.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span>“I shall not,” I assured her; and we mounted -in silence.</p> - -<p>Only when we came out into the moonlight at -the top did she draw away from me and fling -herself into the arms of madame, who embraced -her tenderly and kissed her again and again.</p> - -<p>The tower was battlemented, so that we could -look down upon the château and the grounds surrounding -it without danger of being seen by any -one below. As M. le Comte and I peered down -together I was suddenly conscious of some one -else beside me, and turned to see that it was -Pasdeloup. In the stress of flight I had quite -forgotten him. With a little feeling of remorse -I held out my hand and gripped his great rough -one silently, then turned again to a contemplation -of the scene below.</p> - -<p>But down there all was dark and silent. Not a -candle gleamed from the windows; not a sound -disturbed the silence of the night. It seemed -almost that there had been no attack—that it was -all a dream—a fancy—that we had fled from -shadows.</p> - -<p>“Can they have gone?” I asked. “Is it possible -that not finding us they have returned to -Dange?”</p> - -<p>“You forget,” said M. le Comte, grimly, “that -single musket shot which almost reached one of -us. Depend upon it, they know that we are here.”</p> - -<p>“For what are they waiting, then?”</p> - -<p>“They are preparing a plan of attack no doubt. -They are trying to devise a way to get past that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span> -iron door down yonder. They know they have no -cause to hurry.”</p> - -<p>Pasdeloup suddenly held up his hand.</p> - -<p>“Listen!” he said.</p> - -<p>For a moment I heard nothing—only the insect -noises of the night; then from afar off came a -sound as of bees swarming—a faint hum, vague, -threatening, incomprehensible. Louder it grew -and louder, swelling into a kind of roar, as though -a great flood were sweeping toward us down the -valley of the river. Then suddenly the roar burst -forth in overpowering volume; it grew strident, -articulate. Lights danced among the trees, and in -a moment more a shrieking, cursing mob poured -out upon the road, through the gates and over -the lawn.</p> - -<p>“They have come,” said Pasdeloup, “the -<i>canaille</i> of Dange.”</p> - -<p>And he folded his arms calmly as he stared -moodily down at them.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER X.<br /> - -<span class="small">BREAD UPON THE WATERS.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Across</span> the lawn the mob poured like a foul and -hideous flood, reeling in a kind of drunken frenzy, -their voices mounting to demoniac screams now -that their goal was in sight—waving their blazing -brands above their heads, or shaking furiously -such rude weapons as they possessed. And as I -looked down at them I realized how thin and -fragile is the veneer of civilization, product though -it be of long and painful centuries. Here it had -vanished at a breath. These creatures had reverted -to the state of savages, and burned with -the lust of blood and plunder. They were wolves -indeed—and they were hunting in pack!</p> - -<p>“Why, there are women among them!” I cried; -and indeed there were certain petticoated figures -shrieking as madly as the rest, though there was -nothing feminine in the frenzied countenances -revealed by the red light of the torches.</p> - -<p>“The women are the worst of all,” said M. le -Comte. “They devise tortures of a fiendishness -beyond man’s ingenuity. They sit day after day -watching the guillotine. They are never sated -with blood.”</p> - -<p>But the mob had reached the terrace, had swept -up over it like a tidal wave, and on into the house. -Instantly pandemonium broke loose—the crash<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span> -of breaking glass, of furniture riven asunder, of -doors burst from their hinges. It seemed that in -a breath the house itself must be destroyed, torn -stone from stone, under that fierce assault. I saw -madame shudder at thought of the havoc which -was being wrought among the objects that she -loved.</p> - -<p>“But where are the Blues?” I asked. “Will -they stand by and permit this outrage?”</p> - -<p>“How could they stay it?” asked M. le Comte -sadly. “They are powerless. They can do nothing. -As well hope to stay the tide of the ocean.”</p> - -<p>“They wish to do nothing, monsieur,” said -Pasdeloup. “They abandon the château and all -it contains to the mob. See!—there they go -yonder.”</p> - -<p>And following his gesture we saw two boats -loaded with armed men just slipping into the -shadows of the farther shore.</p> - -<p>M. le Comte stared at them for a moment, then -down at the frenzied crowd on the terrace, and -grew white to the lips. At last he turned to his -wife.</p> - -<p>“Come, madame,” he said, in a voice strangely -calm, “do you and Charlotte descend to the floor -below, where you can at least sit down. If I had -only thought to bring a candle!”</p> - -<p>“I have one,” said Pasdeloup; and produced -from his pocket a piece of candle some six inches -in length, together with flint and steel. In a -moment the candle was alight.</p> - -<p>“Good!” cried his master. “Now you can<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span> -feel almost at home, madame. Perhaps you may -even succeed in getting an hour’s sleep. Certainly -you will be far more comfortable than on -this exposed platform. Let me light the way.”</p> - -<p>He took the candle from Pasdeloup’s hand and -started down the stair. Madame followed him -without a word, but her companion paused and -glanced at me. I was at her side in an instant.</p> - -<p>“What is it?” she questioned, in a whisper. -“Why are we banished. There is no danger?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, mademoiselle,” I assured her. “There -is not the slightest danger at present. I hope that -you will really get some sleep.”</p> - -<p>“Sleep!” she echoed scornfully. “For what -do you take me?”</p> - -<p>“For the loveliest woman in the world!” I -said. “In that, at least, I am not mistaken.”</p> - -<p>“Wait until you have seen more of them!” she -retorted, with a flash of her old spirit, and started -down the stair. But at the second step she stopped -and turned back to me. “M. de Tavernay,” she -said, looking up at me with shining eyes, “you -must promise me one thing.”</p> - -<p>“What is that, mademoiselle?”</p> - -<p>“If there is any danger you will call me.”</p> - -<p>“Very well,” I said quietly, after a moment, -“I promise.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” she said; and waving her hand to -me, disappeared down the stair.</p> - -<p>M. le Comte was back a moment later, the -shadow still dark across his face. He came directly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span> -to the spot where Pasdeloup and I stood leaning -against the wall.</p> - -<p>“Now, Pasdeloup,” he said, “tell me what you -know of this affair. I confess that I do not in the -least understand it. And I want the worst—mind -you, the worst! I want to know the very uttermost -we shall have to face. Who was it set -these peasants on? Who set that trap for me -this morning? Whose hand is it aiming these -blows at me?”</p> - -<p>For a moment Pasdeloup hesitated, staring from -his master down at the château and back again.</p> - -<p>“You remember Goujon, monsieur?” he asked -at last; and it seemed to me that I had heard the -name, though I could not remember where.</p> - -<p>“Goujon?” repeated M. le Comte. “No; who -is he?”</p> - -<p>“One night three years ago, monsieur, as you -were about to retire, you fancied you heard a noise -in the room above your apartment—an empty -attic. You called a servant, and taking your -pistols, mounted to that attic. In one corner you -found a man crouching. You dragged him forth -and discovered him to be a creature who should -have been employed about the kennels. He excused -himself by saying that one of the maids -was his mistress; that, on leaving her, he had -lost his way and stumbled into that attic. The -maids did indeed sleep on that floor, and you -found that he was the lover of one of them. But -when she shrieked that it was not with her he -spent his nights, you did not heed her; you thought<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span> -it merely some excuse—some lie. So you contented -yourself with kicking the fellow down the -steps of the terrace and warning him never again -to set foot on your estate.”</p> - -<p>“Well?” said M. le Comte, somewhat impatiently.</p> - -<p>“Well, that fellow was Goujon, monsieur. Had -you passed your sword through him, all this would -never have occurred. Six months later you were -walking in your woods down yonder by the river -when you came suddenly upon a man setting a -snare. I chanced to pass at the moment, and we -brought him with us back to the château, though -he resisted desperately. Three hares were found -upon him——”</p> - -<p>“I remember,” broke in his master. “Did I -punish him?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur,” answered Pasdeloup quietly. -“You caused him to be stripped and beaten, then -branded on both shoulders with the fleur-de-lis.”</p> - -<p>“Ah,” said the other with a sigh of relief, “I -am glad I was so lenient. I might have decreed -the gallows or the wheel for the miserable -poacher.”</p> - -<p>“<i>Oui, dà</i>, monsieur,” agreed Pasdeloup, with -a grim smile; “but after all your leniency was a -mistake, for there are some men who prefer the -gallows to the white-hot iron. That miserable -poacher was one of them—although he has since -become Citizen Goujon, a deputy of the Republic.”</p> - -<p>“A deputy?”</p> - -<p>“He arrived at Dange a week ago.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span>“You mean it is he who aroused these -peasants?”</p> - -<p>“Undoubtedly. It was also he who sent -Laroche to you with the message that madame was -ill.”</p> - -<p>Then in a flash I remembered where I had heard -the name.</p> - -<p>“Pasdeloup is right!” I cried. “When Dubosq -was placing the sentries in the garden I heard -him say that it was from Citizen Goujon he had -his orders. But this Goujon cannot be such a -bad fellow, since he gave peremptory orders that -the women were not to be harmed.”</p> - -<p>“Did he so?” asked M. le Comte with a quick -breath of relief. “Then it is only me he hates—it -is only me he seeks. Well, I can face death. -But when I saw that we were abandoned to this -mob I fancied—I fancied——”</p> - -<p>“Do not fear, monsieur,” said Pasdeloup in a -strange voice. “This mob has leaders who will -also take care to deliver the women unharmed -into the hands of Citizen Goujon.”</p> - -<p>“Well, and what then?” demanded his master. -“Why do you speak in that tone?”</p> - -<p>“Because, monsieur,” answered Pasdeloup -grimly, “you do not know Goujon. Hatred of -monsieur was not the only reason which led to -this attack.”</p> - -<p>“What other reason was there?”</p> - -<p>Pasdeloup looked down at the mob, then away -to the east toward Dange, his lips compressed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span>“Come, tell me!” commanded his master. -“This is not the time for hesitancies.”</p> - -<p>Pasdeloup cleared his throat gruffly.</p> - -<p>“Citizen Goujon has the audacity to love -Madame la Comtesse,” he said finally.</p> - -<p>M. le Comte burst into a laugh.</p> - -<p>“Any fool may worship a star,” he said. “He -cannot drag it down to him.”</p> - -<p>“Goujon is trying to drag this one down, monsieur,” -added Pasdeloup quietly, “as he tried once -before. This time he believes that success is -certain.”</p> - -<p>M. le Comte grew suddenly sober.</p> - -<p>“‘As he tried once before?’” he repeated. -“Your meaning, Pasdeloup?”</p> - -<p>“Ah, monsieur,” answered Pasdeloup, with a -gesture indicating that the matter had been taken -out of his hands, “it was not by mistake that -Goujon entered that attic three years ago. That -girl to whom you would not listen—terror had -frightened her into the truth. For that attic extended -also above the apartment of madame. He -had fashioned a hole in the ceiling; he had even -planned to descend some night when you were -absent....”</p> - -<p>“Ah, if I had known!” cried his master -hoarsely. “If I had known! But how do you -know all this, Pasdeloup?” he demanded, turning -upon the other fiercely, a sudden red suspicion -in his eyes.</p> - -<p>“Goujon himself told me,” replied Pasdeloup -calmly, “two nights ago at Dange, when he had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span> -drunk too much wine. Shall I continue the story, -monsieur, or have you heard enough?”</p> - -<p>“Continue! Let us have it all;” and M. le -Comte bowed his head upon his breast.</p> - -<p>“Expelled from the house and from your service,” -went on Pasdeloup, “Goujon spent his days -and nights watching the château in the hope that -chance might yet give madame into his hands. -He lived by poaching, as you happened to discover. -After you had punished him he still lingered -for a time in your woods, defying death. -He was half-mad, I think: he was willing to suffer -any torment, face any torture, if he could die with -the consciousness of having possessed madame. -Not only his passion for her, but his hatred of -you urged him on. At last he thought of a better -way; he joined the assassins at Paris, and now -he has returned armed with a power which will -give him his revenge. All of this,” he added, with -a gesture toward the hall below, “is for the purpose -of enabling him to taste that revenge. You -can guess now why he ordered that madame should -be delivered into his hands unharmed.”</p> - -<p>M. le Comte’s face was livid.</p> - -<p>“Is he in this mob?” he asked hoarsely. -“Point him out to me, Pasdeloup!”</p> - -<p>“I do not think he is here,” answered Pasdeloup. -“Not yet—but he will come—and perhaps, -who knows, fate may give you a chance at -him.”</p> - -<p>M. le Comte grew suddenly silent, searching the -other’s face with eyes intent.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span>“How came you to be with Goujon two nights -ago?” he questioned. “Have you been consorting -with these scoundrels?”</p> - -<p>“If I have, M. le Comte,” answered Pasdeloup -simply, “it was that I might better serve my -master—that I might pay my debt.”</p> - -<p>“Your debt?”</p> - -<p>“Ah, that is another thing he does not remember,” -said Pasdeloup, turning to me with a sad -little smile. “But he was only a boy at the time -and it was to him a little thing not worth remembering. -We lived in a hut on the edge of the -wood yonder, my mother and I. Every morning -my mother cleaned the sties here at the château -and gave the pigs their food. For this she received -every day a loaf of black bread, and she -managed now and then to snatch a few morsels -from the trough when no one was near. For the -rest, we lived on the roots and nuts we gathered in -the forest, and we were permitted also to use such -wood as the storms swept from the trees. In this -manner we somehow managed to keep alive.</p> - -<p>“But one day my mother fell ill. She could -not go to her work; instead, she grew worse and -worse, and I had no food to give her. In the -course of three days I myself grew so hungry that -I could think of nothing better to do than to sit in -the sun at the door of our hut and weep. It was -while I was doing this that I heard a noise, and -looking up, saw approaching me a horse ridden by -a being who seemed to me a god. He stopped his -horse and asked me what the matter was. So<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span> -overwhelmed was I by this vision that I could only -point to the door of the hut and to my belly. He -dismounted, he entered the hut, he looked at my -mother; then he came out, patted me on the head -and rode away. I was so dazzled by the sight of -him that for a time I forgot my hunger; but at -last it pinched me again more sharply than before, -and I reflected that after all the visit of the god -had profited me nothing. And I was just about -to renew my wailing when again I heard a noise, -and again saw my visitor approaching through the -trees. This time he bore in one hand an iron -kettle which he thrust upon me and bade me carry -in to my mother. The kettle contained two fowls, -steaming hot in their own juices,—the first I had -ever tasted.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, now I remember,” said M. le Comte smiling. -“I snatched that kettle from the cook just -as he had taken it from the fire. I can even yet -see his astonished countenance. Well, did it save -your mother?”</p> - -<p>“No, M. le Comte, she was too far gone for -that; but at least she entered heaven with a full -belly. She filled herself, slept and never awakened. -But it saved me, monsieur, and it is that debt -which I hope to repay.”</p> - -<p>“And yet,” said his master, looking at him, “if -I remember rightly, that boy must have been at -least three years younger than myself; while you -are at least ten years older.”</p> - -<p>“I do not know how old I am, monsieur; I have -lost count of it; but I am that boy.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span>“Then you cannot be more than twenty-seven. -Twenty-seven!” and he gazed at the squat figure, -the gnarled hands, the seamed and rugged countenance.</p> - -<p>“No,” said Pasdeloup, “I do not think I am -more than twenty-seven; but for many of those -years, M. le Comte, I struggled day by day to -keep the soul in the body. That ages one, you -see.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” agreed his master, sadly, “I see.”</p> - -<p>“At first I was only in the way,” said Pasdeloup. -“No one wanted me, and I received -everybody’s kicks and blows. Then I grew big -enough to help with the pigs. Since I have been -keeper of the gate for M. le Comte,” he added -eagerly, “I have had an easy life.”</p> - -<p>“Yet I have found you there whenever I passed, -day or night.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, monsieur has remarked that?” cried -Pasdeloup, his face glowing with pleasure. -“There is a corner between the gate and the wall,” -he explained, “where one is sheltered from the -weather. And I have learned to sleep with one -eye open, watching for monsieur. It is a thing -soon learned. And I sleep none the less soundly.”</p> - -<p>“I am glad of that,” said his master, gently, -and stared for a moment gloomily down at the -crowd upon the lawn. “This Revolution is not -so surprising after all,” he added, half to himself.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XI.<br /> - -<span class="small">AT THE BELLE IMAGE.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">But</span> the scene below soon drew M. le Comte -from his abstraction; for even in the few minutes -we had spent in listening to Pasdeloup’s story, -told with a rude and simple eloquence which I -have tried in vain to reproduce, it had assumed -a new and more threatening aspect. The flood -which had swept into the château was pouring out -of it again, bearing upon its crest furniture, -draperies, railings, doors—everything, in a word, -which could be wrenched from the building. All -of this was thrown into a great pile in the middle -of the lawn and a torch applied to it. Then as -the flames leaped upward the marauders joined -hands around it and started a wild dance.</p> - -<p>They had appropriated all the clothing they had -found in the château, and it was not without a -certain pang that I recognized one of my own -coats in which I had taken especial pride making -the circuit of the fire upon the back of a sturdy -rascal, utterly incapable of appreciating its beauties, -and wholly careless of preserving them. The -effect under other circumstances would have been -ludicrous enough; and indeed I found myself -smiling after a moment, so trivial did the loss -of my wardrobe appear in comparison with the -dangers which threatened us. A few hours before<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span> -it had seemed a great disaster; now it scarcely -merited a second thought. For it was no longer -a question of whether I should enter Poitiers in -becoming state, but whether I should live to enter -it at all. Besides, for some hours I had ceased to -care as to the effect my appearance would have -on either M. de Benseval or his daughter.</p> - -<p>“Those roisterers seem harmless enough,” said -M. le Comte after a moment. “It was foolish -to run away. If I had stayed to broach a cask -of wine for them they would have drunk my health -and marched away shouting ‘God and the King!’ -with the best of us. They are Revolutionists -merely for the excitement of it, not because they -bear me ill-will.”</p> - -<p>“Those around the fire perhaps,” assented Pasdeloup, -“but not those others;” and he indicated -with his finger a small group which stood motionless -in the shadow of the tower almost directly -beneath us. We leaned over the parapet and -looked down at them. The rays of the fire -glinted on knives, muskets, pistols. They were -fully armed, though they wore no uniform.</p> - -<p>“Who are they?” asked M. le Comte.</p> - -<p>“Goujon brought them from Paris with him, -monsieur. Look again and you will see their red -caps. They are heroes of the September massacres.”</p> - -<p>I shivered at the words.</p> - -<p>“Goujon wished to have at hand some one upon -whom he could rely,” Pasdeloup added quietly. -“He promised them that he would have agreeable<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span> -work for them, and that they should be well -repaid, or they would never have consented to -leave Paris.”</p> - -<p>“What are they doing down yonder?”</p> - -<p>“They are watching the door to the tower.”</p> - -<p>“Well, let them watch it. We shall not open -it, and they can never break it down.”</p> - -<p>“I would not be too certain of that, monsieur,” -said Pasdeloup, gloomily. “They have learned -many things at Paris. Goujon boasted that even -unarmed the people had taken a great prison called -the Bastille—but most probably he was lying.”</p> - -<p>“No,” said his master in a low tone, “in that -particular, at least, he spoke the truth. But -miracles do not repeat themselves.”</p> - -<p>“They no doubt have other means at command,” -responded Pasdeloup grimly, “without -calling in the aid of the good God.”</p> - -<p>“No doubt they have,” agreed his master; “but -at least we can reduce the number of these assassins;” -and he drew his pistols.</p> - -<p>But Pasdeloup laid a warning hand upon his -arm.</p> - -<p>“Not yet, monsieur,” he said. “I may be -mistaken. Perhaps there is yet a chance. Perhaps -those others will refuse to join them. Perhaps -they will grow weary after a time and depart -for home, content with such plunder as they can -carry away. But if we begin the attack they -will be on fire in a moment.”</p> - -<p>“You are right,” agreed M. le Comte, and -slowly returned his pistols to his belt. “Let us<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span> -wait, then. Meanwhile Pasdeloup, do you tell -us how you came to know so well what Goujon -was planning—and more especially why, since -you did know it, you did not give me warning.”</p> - -<p>Pasdeloup hesitated a moment.</p> - -<p>“I will tell you, monsieur,” he said at last, -“and you will see that I am not to blame—that -I did what I could. You perhaps know the inn -of the Belle Image at Dange?”</p> - -<p>“I have heard of it.”</p> - -<p>“I was there one evening a week ago drinking -a glass of wine during an hour Laroche had taken -my place at the gate. It was the first time he -had ever proposed such a thing, but that night he -came to me and told me of the wonderful new -wine at the Belle Image, so good and so cheap, -since it no longer had to pay tithes, to the church -and to the aristocrats. He ended by saying that -as he was idle for an hour he would take my place -at the gate while I went to the Belle Image and -tasted the wine. I confess I was surprised; he -saw it and explained that he wanted me to test -for myself one of the benefits the Republic had -conferred upon the people. So I went. I saw -afterward that that was not his purpose at all.”</p> - -<p>“I can guess what his purpose was,” said M. le -Comte; “but continue your story.”</p> - -<p>“I was, as I have said, drinking my wine,” continued -Pasdeloup, “which was truly of a surprising -excellence, when a man came and sat down beside -me. For a moment I did not know him; then I -saw it was Goujon. He greeted me with a kindness<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span> -which surprised me when I remembered that -it was I who had helped to capture him; but he -seemed to have forgotten that. I saw that he was -well dressed and that his hands were white. He -ordered a bottle of wine even superior to that -which I was drinking, invited me to join him, -and began to tell me of the wonderful events which -were happening in Paris—events which would end -by making us all free, and rich, and happy. He -said that the aristocrats and the priests had been -starving and robbing and killing us for five hundred -years, and that now it was our turn.</p> - -<p>“‘You remember that your own mother was -starved to death, Pasdeloup,’ he said.</p> - -<p>“‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I remember that.’</p> - -<p>“‘Although enough to feed a hundred people -was wasted every day at the château.’</p> - -<p>“‘Yes,’ I agreed, ‘perhaps that is true.’</p> - -<p>“‘You know how she would have been beaten -had it been known that she stole even a morsel of -food from the pigs.’</p> - -<p>“‘Yes,’ I said again; ‘I know that.’</p> - -<p>“‘You may perhaps remember,’ he went on, -with a frightful contortion of the countenance, -‘the punishment I suffered for trapping a hare.’</p> - -<p>“‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I remember.’</p> - -<p>“‘And do you think it just, good God!’ he -cried, ‘that a man should suffer like that for a -fault so trivial? Yet that is what was happening -day by day all over this broad land of France! -What could we do? They took our grain for their -bread, our flocks for their meat, our daughters<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span> -for their pleasure. Did we so much as protest -we were hanged on the nearest gallows as a warning -to others not to lift their heads. We might -live or die, starve or rot—what did it matter! We -were less to them, as you have seen, than the swine -in their pens!’ I do not know,” added Pasdeloup, -in another tone, “whether all of this was true, -but it had a certain air of truth about it.”</p> - -<p>“Most of it was true, I fear,” said M. le Comte -in a low voice, “though I had never looked at it -in quite that way.”</p> - -<p>“There is a great difference, is there not, monsieur,” -asked Pasdeloup, “in whether one looks -at a thing from above or from below?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” agreed his master still more quietly, -“there is.”</p> - -<p>“At any rate,” continued Pasdeloup, “Goujon -grew more and more excited with each word he -uttered. ‘Why is it,’ he demanded, ‘that some -people wear lace and jewels and others only rags? -Why should a noble’s pigs be treated better than -his peasants? Why should the peasants toil from -year to year in order that the priests and the aristocrats -may live in idleness with their women, and -have fine wines to drink, and fine clothes to wear, -and great houses to shelter them, while we who -make the wine, and spin the cloth, and build the -houses, have only swill and rags and hovels? Why -should they be warm in winter and we cold? Why -should we permit their game to destroy our crops -without being permitted to raise a hand to prevent -it?’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span>“‘I do not know,’ I answered, ‘except that it -was always so.’</p> - -<p>“‘Well, it will be so no longer!’ he cried. -‘We are going to change all that. We are going -to reverse things. Monsieur Veto has already -sneezed in the sack; the Austrian woman and -her whelp will follow him.’</p> - -<p>“‘And what then?’ I asked.</p> - -<p>“‘Then we shall be free. Then we shall set -about the work of establishing liberty, equality, -fraternity. But first we will stuff the nobles’ -mouths with dust, just as those good fellows at -Paris stuffed old Foulon’s with hay. Come, you -must join us, Pasdeloup. You also have wrongs -to avenge.’</p> - -<p>“‘I will think of it,’ I said, and returned to -my post at the gate.</p> - -<p>“All that night I lay and thought of what -Goujon had said, and I confess, M. le Comte, -that it appeared to me reasonable. So long as I -had imagined that things were as they were -because the good God so willed it, I had not -questioned them. But now I began to suspect -that perhaps the good God had no hand in them at -all, and that the only thing left for us was to do -what we could to help ourselves. The next night -I inquired for Laroche, but no one had seen him; -so leaving the gate open—the first time that I -had ever done so—I hastened to the Belle Image. -Goujon was awaiting me; again he bought wine, -and again he laid before me the wrongs of the -peasantry. At last I told him that I would join<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span> -the society which he was organizing at Dange. -It was not until I had taken the oath that I discovered -what it was he intended to do. He -thought me wholly his, and indeed, from night to -night, he convinced me more and more that justice -was on our side.</p> - -<p>“Two nights ago he was for some reason very -jubilant and drank more than usual. It was at -that time that he confided to me his passion for -madame; that he told me what it was he had been -doing in that attic at the moment you discovered -him. Then he passed on to the plan he had in -mind.</p> - -<p>“‘We have all the servants now, Pasdeloup,’ he -said; ‘even the women. Those we could not persuade -we bribed; those we could not bribe we -frightened into joining us. The plans are made, -everything is ready. Your part will be to open the -gates for us.’</p> - -<p>“‘Which gates?’ I asked.</p> - -<p>“‘The gates of the château, of course.’</p> - -<p>“‘Of the château?’</p> - -<p>“‘Certainly, it is of the château I am speaking. -We are going to attack it.’</p> - -<p>“‘But M. le Comte is not there,’ I protested.</p> - -<p>“‘No,’ said Goujon with a triumphant smile, -‘nor will he ever again be there. I have attended -to that. Laroche has lured him into our hands. -First I will bring him here in order that he may -witness my revenge—my triumph; then I will -send him on to Paris to celebrate his nuptials with -Madame Guillotine.’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span>“Then I saw the trap into which I had thrust -my foot. As he sat there leering at me I was -tempted to bury my knife in his belly; but I -managed to control myself. It might be that -there were other things which I should know.</p> - -<p>“‘Well, then,’ I said, ‘since you already have -him why attack the château?’</p> - -<p>“The leer on his face grew broader.</p> - -<p>“‘You forget, Pasdeloup,’ he said, ‘that the -women are there.’</p> - -<p>“‘What then?’</p> - -<p>“‘What then? head of a pig! You are stupid -to-night! Do you suppose I have forgotten? -You do not know the sleepless nights I have -spent tossing on my bed, biting my pillow at -thought of what should one day be mine! Well, -my day has come—that woman is going to be -mine now—that is the triumph which Favras is to -witness. Will it not be a pretty revenge? Could -you think of anything prettier?’ and he leered at -me again and licked his lips with a tongue which -seemed strangely red and swollen. ‘You shall -have the other; she shall be your reward—and -<i>pardieu!</i> it is not to be laughed at. You do not -know, Pasdeloup, what soft, white skins these -<i>ci-devant</i> women have!’”</p> - -<p>I felt my blood grow suddenly hot with rage -and a glance at M. le Comte’s white face told -me the agony he was suffering at the thought that -his wife had been profaned by even the glances of -this scoundrel.</p> - -<p>“Go on,” he said hoarsely. “And then?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span>“Perhaps something in my face betrayed me,” -Pasdeloup continued. “At any rate, Goujon -suddenly looked at me, then straightened back in -his chair.</p> - -<p>“‘I have been talking nonsense, Pasdeloup,’ -he said. ‘I have taken too much wine. I am -always saying absurd things when I am drunk. -You must forget that foolishness.’</p> - -<p>“He said it so naturally that I believed him, -more especially since at the moment his head was -wobbling so that he could scarcely keep it off the -table. But when I reached the château again I -found that my zeal for the Revolution had vanished, -since, even drunk, one of its leaders could -propose such horrible things. Last night I remained -at my post at the gate; but to-night an -uneasiness seized me. I fancied that I detected -some sort of understanding among the other -servants. At the first moment I slipped away to -Dange to learn the truth. There I found that a -detachment of the Blues had just come in by -post and had been ordered forward at once to -surround the château. All of that rabble yonder -had gathered in the square and Goujon was -addressing them. The terrible things he was saying -made me tremble. But I listened only for a -moment. Then I hastened back to give you warning -and found that I was already too late. That -is all, M. le Comte.”</p> - -<p>His master laid a friendly hand upon his -shoulder.</p> - -<p>“I thank thee, Pasdeloup,” he said. “Whatever<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span> -the event, thou hast done thy best. Thou -hast paid thy debt a hundred fold.”</p> - -<p>A sudden frenzied outburst of yells interrupted -him. We looked down again and saw a procession -emerging from the house upon the terrace. -Before them they were rolling five or six casks -of wine and spirits.</p> - -<p>“We shall see now,” said Pasdeloup grimly, -“how many of them will shout, ‘God and the -King!’”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XII.<br /> - -<span class="small">MADNESS BECOMES FRENZY.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">In</span> a moment the casks were broached, and the -liquor, in whatever receptacles were at hand, was -passed around from mouth to eager mouth. No -one made the slightest attempt to husband it, and -it was soon pouring down over the steps in little -purple rivulets. The faces of the crowd, as the -flaring torches and dancing flames revealed them, -became more and more inhuman, their shouts -hoarser and more menacing, their actions more -and more bestial, until I felt my cheeks grow -hot at the thought that these creatures belonged -to humankind. Truly long centuries in the darkness -had rendered them unfit for the light! If -vermin such as this was to govern France, then -France would better far be sunk in the ocean!</p> - -<p>Drunken couples reeled hither and thither -shouting incoherently; women forgetting their -sex pursued such men as made a pretense of -escaping and dragged them down into the shadows; -a half-naked girl mounted astride a cask -shouted obscenities at six or eight scoundrels who -were going through the pretense of a mass.</p> - -<p>“The Goddess of Reason!” said M. le Comte, -his eyes dwelling upon this group; and indeed at -that moment, as the wretch who played the priest -made as though he were elevating the host, those -behind him burst forth in a hoarse shout:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span>“Long live Reason! Long live Reason!”</p> - -<p>Sick with disgust I glanced at the heavens, -wondering that God did not blast them with his -thunderbolts.</p> - -<p>“I never thought such vileness could exist,” -I murmured; and Pasdeloup, who heard the words, -smiled grimly.</p> - -<p>“Do not blame them too bitterly, monsieur,” -he said. “How does it happen that they are what -they are? What have they to thank God for? -Why should they be grateful to the church? All -their lives they have known only cruelty and -injustice. Now it is their turn.”</p> - -<p>“That is true,” I agreed; and suddenly I -realized that this rude and ignorant peasant had a -broader and truer outlook upon life than I. And -I think that that moment saw the birth in me of -a new tolerance and sympathy. At least I hope -it did!</p> - -<p>No thunderbolt came. Perhaps God, too, was -looking down more in pity than in anger.</p> - -<p>Attracted by the shout others of the crowd -joined the group before the steps, drank of the -wine which the girl passed down to them, and -began a crazed Bacchanal dance before her. Then -a red-faced rogue dashed up the steps to her and -screaming with laughter tore her few remaining -clothes from her back.</p> - -<p>“Long live Reason!” he shouted. “I baptise -thee!” and he dashed a cup of wine over her -glistening skin.</p> - -<p>Another snatched a twig from a flowering shrub<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span> -and bending it into the semblance of a wreath -placed it upon her head.</p> - -<p>“Long live Reason!” he shouted in his turn. -But a woman in the crowd, jealous perhaps of -the attentions shown the naked hussy, suddenly -caught up a clod of earth and dashed it into her -face; whereupon the goddess dismounted from -her throne, vomiting forth I know not what vileness, -was caught up by the crowd and passed -from sight.</p> - -<p>Then one of their number mounted the steps -and began to harangue them. I could catch only -a word here and there, yet it was easy enough to -guess, from the frantic shouts which interrupted -him, what his subject was. The mob was in a -mood for any atrocity. It needed only the application -of the spark.</p> - -<p>M. le Comte’s face grew grave as he gazed down -at them.</p> - -<p>“That is serious!” he said. “When they -begin to speechify it is time to think of escape. -Have you anything to suggest, Tavernay?”</p> - -<p>“If we could reach the ground on the side of -the tower away from the mob,” I said, “we -might escape into the wood, since there seems to -be no watch of any kind, nor any one to intercept -us.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, but to reach the ground—we need a -rope.”</p> - -<p>“Is there none in the tower? Surely we can -find something——”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span>“At least, we can look,” he said, and led the -way to the stair.</p> - -<p>I followed him, but Pasdeloup, his arms folded, -his head sunk in reverie, kept his place at the -battlement, staring moodily down at the drunken -revel.</p> - -<p>We descended to the floor below where Pasdeloup’s -candle was still burning. A glance at -it showed me that it had been half consumed. -An hour more and we should be in darkness—if -indeed we had not entered the eternal darkness -long ere that!</p> - -<p>In the first moment I thought the room was -empty; then I saw madame half-sitting, half-lying -on a couch in one corner, holding the younger -woman in her arms. As we approached she -raised a warning finger to her lips, and I saw -with a sudden burst of tenderness that Charlotte -had fallen asleep.</p> - -<p>“Do not disturb her,” warned madame in a -low voice; but at that instant the sleeper opened -her eyes.</p> - -<p>For a moment she stared up at us blankly; then -her eyes met mine and a wave of crimson swept -from brow to chin.</p> - -<p>“I have been asleep,” she said, sitting hastily -erect. “In spite of all my boasting,” she added, -smiling up at me.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said M. le Comte; “and you should be -proud of your steady nerves and clear conscience, -my dear. Not many of us are able to sleep so -peacefully in the face of danger.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span>“Danger?” she repeated, and looked about her. -“Has it come, then?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, not a pressing danger,” he assured her. -“Still, we must devise some means of escape -before it becomes so. We shall have to take the -light, I fear.”</p> - -<p>“Do so,” said madame promptly. “Charlotte -and I will ascend to the platform.”</p> - -<p>“It is not a pleasant sight that you will see,” -said M. le Comte, “nor pleasant words that you -will hear——”</p> - -<p>“We are not children,” broke in madame. -“Come, Charlotte.”</p> - -<p>M. le Comte lighted them up the stair and then -turned back to me.</p> - -<p>“It is evident there is no rope here,” he said, -holding the candle above his head and looking -about the apartment. “The old furnishings hang -together better than one would think,” he added.</p> - -<p>It was not until then—so occupied had my -mind been with other matters—that I perceived -with what sumptuousness the place was fitted up. -The tapestries were faded and dusty, the coverings -of the furniture moth-eaten and decayed, and the -room itself cobwebbed and moldy—but it was -impressive, nevertheless. It was of good size, -octagonal, conforming in shape to the tower, and -in four of the sides small, shuttered windows were -set. Tapestries and furniture alike had evidently -been of the most costly and elegant description.</p> - -<p>“This was the boudoir of the fair Gabrielle,” -observed M. le Comte, looking about him with a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span> -smile. “It has been years since I set foot here -and I had forgotten how it looked. You will see -that with my ancestor it was a real passion; he -did not spare himself. In fact I should hate to -confess how much, first and last, she cost his -family. Below is her bedchamber.”</p> - -<p>We went down the stair into another room even -more luxuriously furnished. The great bed stood -at one side with curtains drawn. One almost -expected to see a small hand pluck them aside -and to hear a shrill voice demand the meaning of -our intrusion, or to be suddenly confronted by that -old gallant Favras, oath on lip and sword in hand. -Here there were no windows, only narrow slits -sufficient to admit air and light but not wide -enough to permit of assault from without. We -made a careful circuit of the apartment, but found -nothing which could by any possibility serve as a -rope.</p> - -<p>“There is one more chance,” said M. le Comte, -and led the way to the bottom story.</p> - -<p>This had been divided into two rooms, one a -sort of vestibule into which the outer door opened -and from which the stair ascended, and the other -a store-room. The vestibule was quite empty, and -the store-room contained nothing but a pile of -rotting casks and broken bottles.</p> - -<p>My companion looked at them with a whimsical -countenance.</p> - -<p>“The fair lady evidently did not lack refreshment,” -he said. “I would she had had the forethought -to leave us a few bottles. I am afraid,” -he added, turning back to the vestibule, “that the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span> -only possible exit for us is through that door. -There are no windows in this story, nor in the one -above. To jump from the third story is to tempt -death—or at least a multitude of broken bones. -For myself, I prefer to face the enemy.”</p> - -<p>“We might make a rope from the tapestries,” -I suggested.</p> - -<p>“They are rotten with mildew,” he objected; -and indeed when we tested them we found them -ready to fall to pieces at a touch. “Our situation -is not so desperate,” he continued, as we -climbed slowly up the stair again. “They will -have to starve us out, since they have no cannon -with which to batter down the wall, and that will -take two or three days at the least. Many things -may happen in that time.”</p> - -<p>But though he spoke hopefully, I fancied his -voice did not ring quite true. When we reached -the platform he blew out the candle, placed it -carefully in a crevice of the wall, then went to his -wife where she stood leaning against the parapet, -put an arm about her and drew her to him.</p> - -<p>“Well?” she asked, smiling up at him.</p> - -<p>“We are not yet out of the woods,” he said; -“but, as I have just told Tavernay, there is no -pressing danger. They will have to besiege us -in form. Perhaps we may yet catch them -napping.”</p> - -<p>I had approached Mlle. de Chambray, drawn -by an irresistible attraction—which indeed I made -no effort to resist.</p> - -<p>“What is your opinion, M. de Tavernay?” she -asked, as I leaned against the wall beside her.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span>“I confess,” I answered gloomily, “that I see -little hope of escape, unless we can sprout wings -and fly away. For you, mademoiselle, that would -not be so great a miracle; but I fear I am too far -below the angels to hope for such deliverance.”</p> - -<p>“It is not the angels alone who have wings,” -she retorted, her face lighting with a smile. “I -have heard of other spirits similarly equipped.”</p> - -<p>“It may be that I do not resemble them either, -mademoiselle,” I ventured mildly.</p> - -<p>“Who can tell!” she retorted; and turned away -from me to gaze at the scene below.</p> - -<p>The wine had done its work—had converted -harmless peasants and cowering wretches into -bloodthirsty brutes animated by a kind of frenzy -which we for a moment did not understand. Men -and women were running about screaming madly, -no longer heeding the fire which they had kindled -on the lawn, and which was now dying away for -lack of fuel. They were pouring in and out of -the house with some other end in view—and suddenly -we saw what it was.</p> - -<p>For from one wing of the château came a puff -of smoke followed almost instantly by a quick -burst of flame.</p> - -<p>“They have fired the house,” said M. le Comte -grimly; and we stood there numbly watching the -progress of the flames, as powerless to check them -as though we had been a hundred leagues away.</p> - -<p>They ate their way through the building with a -rapidity which showed how artfully they were -being fed. Indeed it seemed to me that this whole -drama was moving forward to its climax with a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span> -regularity which proved its prearrangement. It -was not a spontaneous outburst of the people; it -was a thing theatric, carefully thought out, in -which the actors were really only puppets controlled -by wires centring in one powerful hand. -And as I recalled Pasdeloup’s story there could -be no question in my mind as to whom that hand -belonged. I shivered a little as I asked myself -what the crisis was toward which the drama was -mounting. And I felt strangely impotent, as -though it were the very hand of Fate raised against -us, and not merely that of a vengeful and lecherous -scoundrel!</p> - -<p>The flames burst out at last at roof and windows, -casting a red glow over lawn and garden, -where the mob stood staring in half-awed triumph -at its handiwork. Madame watched the destruction -with white face, but with an admirable -control.</p> - -<p>“Can they fire the tower?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“No, I think not,” answered her husband. -“Fire from without would have no effect upon -these solid walls, and they cannot get fire to the -inside. The breeze, you see, is carrying those -sparks away from us.”</p> - -<p>“That was my home,” she murmured, “and I -loved it.”</p> - -<p>“We will build another,” said M. le Comte, -pressing her to him. “When this cloud that covers -France has rolled away we will build another home, -which you will love even more, for we shall be -very happy there.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span>“Not happier than we have been here,” she -said, with a smile full at the same time of tears -and joy. “We have been very happy here, my -love. Whatever they do, they cannot take the past -away from us. The future belongs to God, but -the past is ours.”</p> - -<p>I looked away from them with tear-dimmed -eyes down at that mob of savages. She had -spoken truly—after all, their power for evil was -limited to that: they could destroy the future, but -they could not touch the past. And I remembered -that I also had a past which was very sweet—a -past not long as men count time, spanning indeed -but a few short hours—and yet to memory an -eternity!</p> - -<p>“What are those men about?” asked a voice at -my elbow, and Mlle. de Chambray pointed down -at a group which had drawn a little apart from -the rest.</p> - -<p>They stood near the foot of the tower and -seemed to be staring up at us, though in the darkness -I could not be certain. Suddenly one of them -whirled about his head some object which burst -into a ring of flame. Then he hurled it up toward -us.</p> - -<p>“The fools!” said M. le Comte, with a laugh, -“what can they hope to accomplish?”</p> - -<p>As though in answer to the words there came -from beneath our feet a rending crash, a sharp -report, and a stream of acrid smoke poured up -the stairway from the room below.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIII.<br /> - -<span class="small">THE UNFOLDING OF THE DRAMA.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Instinctively</span> I had caught my companion to -me to shield her from the shock, and we stood an -instant so with bated breath. Then a fierce chorus -of exulting yells startled us back to action.</p> - -<p>“A grenade!” cried M. le Comte, and started -for the stair.</p> - -<p>But Pasdeloup hurled himself before him down -the stair, through that choking cloud of smoke. -We were at his heels, and when we reached the -floor below I saw him tearing down the tinder-dry -tapestry, which was blazing fiercely. In a -moment we had stamped out the flames upon the -torn and splintered floor.</p> - -<p>“They must not do that a second time,” said -M. le Comte when the danger was past. “I -thought the windows were shuttered.”</p> - -<p>Pasdeloup went quickly to the window through -which the bomb had come.</p> - -<p>“This shutter is swinging loose,” he said, and -leaned coolly out to secure it.</p> - -<p>A chorus of hoarse yells greeted him and a -spatter of musket shots. I heard the bullets clipping -the stones about him; but he heeded them -not at all and pulled the heavy shutter into place -and secured it with careful deliberation.</p> - -<p>“We must look to the others,” he said calmly -when that was done, and himself made the circuit<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span> -of the other windows to assure himself that the -shutters were in place.</p> - -<p>“Bring down the candle, Tavernay,” said M. -le Comte. “We must see what damage has been -done here.”</p> - -<p>Not until it blazed up from the spark which -Pasdeloup struck into it did I suspect that he was -injured. Then, as the flame burned clearly, I -perceived a smear of blood across his face.</p> - -<p>“Not wounded, Pasdeloup?” cried M. le -Comte, whose eyes had been caught by the same -red stain.</p> - -<p>“Only a scratch, monsieur,” Pasdeloup replied; -but his master was not satisfied until he had wiped -away the blood and assured himself that the -wound was indeed a slight one. A bullet had -grazed Pasdeloup’s forehead, cutting in the skin -a clean furrow which was bleeding copiously. -Pasdeloup submitted to this inspection with evident -impatience.</p> - -<p>“It is nothing,” he repeated. “It is nothing. -You are wasting time, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“All right, my friend,” said his master, releasing -him at last, “but I wanted to be quite sure;” -and he turned to an inspection of the room.</p> - -<p>It was sadly wrecked, the furniture blown -asunder, the tapestries smoking on the splintered -floor; but the walls were intact, impregnable. M. -le Comte smiled as he looked at them.</p> - -<p>“As well assault a lion with pebbles as this -tower with hand-grenades,” he said. “We are -safe as ever.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span>“Except in one particular, monsieur,” broke in -Pasdeloup in a low voice. “They are now quite -certain that we have taken refuge here. Before, -perhaps, they only suspected it.”</p> - -<p>“That is true,” agreed his master thoughtfully. -“Well, let us see what the next move will be;” -and he blew out the candle and mounted to the -platform. “Everything is safe,” he added, in -answer to madame’s look, and joined her at the -parapet.</p> - -<p>As for me, I boldly took the place I coveted -beside the younger woman.</p> - -<p>“It reminds one of Rome burning,” I said, -gazing down at the flames and the frenzied multitude. -“I might almost fancy myself a second Nero—you -perceive that the populace is cursing us.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she retorted without raising her eyes, -“and no doubt, like Nero, you would fiddle in the -face of those curses.”</p> - -<p>“There are moments,” I said, “when joy of -heart enables one to smile at any misfortune.”</p> - -<p>“You are experiencing such a moment now? -You are fortunate!”</p> - -<p>“I am, indeed. Perhaps Nero also had the -woman he loved beside him.”</p> - -<p>“That would be an explanation, truly!”</p> - -<p>“But one thing I am quite certain he did -not have,” I added in a lower tone, bending above -her. “He did not have, warm against his heart, -a flower which his love had kissed and thrown -to him.”</p> - -<p>“We all of us have our foolish impulses,” she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span> -responded tartly; but I saw the glow which deepened -in her cheek.</p> - -<p>“If that was a foolish impulse, mademoiselle,” -I said, “I trust it will not be the last one. But it -was not mere impulse—it came from your heart. -One day you are going to love me.”</p> - -<p>“Well, and what then?” she questioned quietly.</p> - -<p>I confess I had no answer ready; what answer -was it possible to give?</p> - -<p>“I may add, M. de Tavernay,” she continued -more severely, “that I consider your jests exceedingly -ill-timed. Why talk of a future which will -never exist?”</p> - -<p>“But it will exist!” I protested.</p> - -<p>“Then no doubt you have already devised a -way of escape from this tower. It is only necessary -for us to depart whenever we are ready.”</p> - -<p>“No, mademoiselle,” I said; “I see no way -of escape at present; but I trust my star.”</p> - -<p>“Your star?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; it has never yet failed me. To-day—or -rather yesterday—after apparently plunging me -into the depths of an abyss it drew me forth and -led me straight to you.”</p> - -<p>“And to this trap.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, mademoiselle; beside the other, that does -not matter!”</p> - -<p>She turned from me with a gesture of impatience.</p> - -<p>“Your mind travels always in a circle.”</p> - -<p>“Of which you are the centre, mademoiselle. -What other figure could my mind describe, revolving -as it does about you?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span>“You have an answer always ready,” she retorted; -“nevertheless I think your star would have -done better by you had it permitted you to continue -your journey to Poitiers unmolested. You -would have arrived there with a free heart, ready -to fulfil your oath to your father; you would have -had no temptation to forget your honor; your life -would have been calm and happy.”</p> - -<p>“The life of an ox would answer that description,” -I answered. “Yet I am very far from -envying the ox.”</p> - -<p>“And there you are wrong. Besides, I have -still to add that as it stands you have no future -before you. You have come to the end of the -path.”</p> - -<p>“So much the better,” I said, drawing nearer -to her. “Since there is no future, let us love each -other. Let us approach the end heart against -heart.”</p> - -<p>She did not answer, only stared moodily down -over the parapet. The château was wholly given -over to the flames. They burst from every window; -they roared above the roof, and their scorching -breath caused us to shrink back a little.</p> - -<p>“It is heart-breaking!” she cried, shielding her -face with her hand; and I saw that there were -tears in her eyes. “That beautiful home! Ah, -those wretches will be punished!”</p> - -<p>“What would you do with them, mademoiselle?” -I asked.</p> - -<p>“I would hang them every one. Men and -women alike. Men and women—beasts!”</p> - -<p>And as I noted the sudden clenching of her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span> -hands and flashing of her eyes, I could not but -wonder at the complexities of woman’s nature.</p> - -<p>“Let us not look at them,” I said. “Let us -forget that they exist. Let us remember only -that we are here together and that there is no -future. Let us sit down here in the shadow of the -wall and imagine that we are again in the garden.”</p> - -<p>“My imagination cannot touch such heroic -heights, M. de Tavernay. In the garden, I was -happy, or nearly so——”</p> - -<p>“You confess it, then?” I broke in eagerly; -but she stopped me with a gesture.</p> - -<p>“I have always been happy—at least until the -past few days. And in the garden I fancied that -even the little cloud which seemed to shadow me -would disappear. Now, on the contrary, I am -far from happy.”</p> - -<p>“You are at least no coward,” I said. “You -are not afraid.”</p> - -<p>“No, I am not afraid. It is the sense of helplessness -which weighs upon me and angers me. -I have always ordered my life to suit myself; I -have always had control of the circumstances -which concerned me. Yet here I am now, caught -like a rat in a trap. I can break my teeth against -the bars, and all in vain. I must wait for some -miracle to deliver me, and not only myself but my -dearest friends. Meanwhile their home, their -beautiful home, is burned before my eyes, and I -must look on helpless while a mob of drunken -brutes rejoices in its destruction. I know that no<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span> -miracle can restore it. And yet, M. de Tavernay, -you ask me to fancy myself in some fool’s -paradise!”</p> - -<p>“It was a paradise,” I agreed; “whether a fool’s -or a wise man’s does not matter. Paradise is -always paradise.”</p> - -<p>“Not for the onlookers!” she retorted.</p> - -<p>“But what need those within care for those -without? Ah, I understand—you class yourself -as an onlooker. You have not love to work the -alchemy for you,” I added sadly.</p> - -<p>She looked up at me slowly with luminous eyes.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps you are right,” she said. “I have -never been really within the pale. I have always -stood outside, peering in, wondering why others -thought it so beautiful.”</p> - -<p>I know not what folly I was about to utter, -when a sudden tremendous crash sounded behind -me.</p> - -<p>“The roof has fallen in,” said M. le Comte -quietly, as we rushed to the parapet. “That is -the end of it.”</p> - -<p>The flames leaped high into the air with a roar -like the passing of a mighty wind over a great -forest. The mob seemed for the moment to have -forgotten us in the grandeur of that spectacle; but -always at the foot of the tower that little group -of armed men stood apart.</p> - -<p>The sudden burst of light threw their faces -into strong relief, and Pasdeloup, who had been -staring down at them, uttered a sharp cry.</p> - -<p>“He is there!” he said. “He is there!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span>“Who is there, Pasdeloup?” demanded his -master.</p> - -<p>“Goujon! See!—that one with the cloak about -him—there at the right!”</p> - -<p>Quick as a flash M. le Comte snatched out his -pistol, levelled it and fired. There was a cry of -pain from below and a man fell—but it was not -Goujon. M. le Comte put up his pistol with an -oath of anger and disappointment.</p> - -<p>But hell itself had broken loose and such a -fusillade of bullets rained against the tower that -we were forced to retire from the parapet. All -the fury of the ages seemed whirled upon us; all -the blind madness which centuries of oppression -and injustice had engendered. Those of the mob -who were unarmed danced shrieking about the -tower, shaking their fists at it, or assailed the -great stones with their nails. It seemed that the -very uproar was enough to shake it from its -foundation.</p> - -<p>“That was not wise,” said Pasdeloup gloomily. -“It was the one thing Goujon needed.”</p> - -<p>“I know it!” confessed his master, and wiped -his forehead with a shaking hand. “Yet I would -have risked it gladly had I only killed that scoundrel. -I must kill him—I must kill him. I could -not rest in my grave with him alive!”</p> - -<p>“Who is it?” asked madame. “Who is it that -you wish to kill?”</p> - -<p>“The scoundrel who set these peasants on.”</p> - -<p>“Who seeks your life?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, more than my life, madame!” he answered<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span> -hoarsely. “More than my life! I could forgive -him that!”</p> - -<p>For a moment she stared at him, not understanding. -Then her face went white with horror and -she put out a hand for support.</p> - -<p>“It cannot come to that!” she murmured. “At -least we will not let it come to that!”</p> - -<p>“No,” he said, and drew her to him. “Do not -fear, my love. It shall never come to that!”</p> - -<p>The firing had slackened and at last we ventured -to look down again. The mob had drawn -away from the tower and had gathered into little -groups, staring up at it.</p> - -<p>“It is to be a siege,” said M. le Comte, laughing -grimly. “If we were only provisioned we -might hold out indefinitely—and these rogues have -little patience.”</p> - -<p>But Pasdeloup shook his head.</p> - -<p>“You do not know them, monsieur,” he said. -“They have patience enough. But it is not a -siege they are planning—it is an assault—I am -sure of it.”</p> - -<p>“Well, let them plan,” retorted his master. -“Let them assault. Much good will it do them!”</p> - -<p>“No doubt,” said Pasdeloup quietly, “the -governor of the Bastille uttered the same words -when he looked down at the unarmed mob of -Paris from the battlement of his prison.”</p> - -<p>“You are right, my friend,” agreed M. le -Comte gently. “He did not understand the -power of the people. But I, who have been in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span> -La Vendée, should know better. You think we -are in danger, then?”</p> - -<p>“Beyond question,” answered Pasdeloup. -“And I am glad that it is so—that there will be -no siege. Since there is no succor for us anywhere, -we must in the end either starve or surrender. -For myself I prefer a short, sharp fight, -with death at the end of it.”</p> - -<p>“And I,” I said.</p> - -<p>“For myself I can say the same,” agreed M. -le Comte. “But for the women!” and he glanced -toward where they stood, sheltered by the parapet.</p> - -<p>“For the women,” said Pasdeloup grimly, “the -last bullets must be saved.”</p> - -<p>“There is nothing, then, but to remain here -and be murdered?” demanded his master. “You -believe that, Pasdeloup?”</p> - -<p>“Not in the least, monsieur,” answered the -other cheerfully. “We shall first make every -effort to escape.”</p> - -<p>“But how?”</p> - -<p>“I must consider it,” said Pasdeloup, with a -self-assurance which at another time would have -been amusing. “There is no time to be lost;” -and he disappeared down the stair leading to the -floor below.</p> - -<p>My companion looked after him musingly.</p> - -<p>“Ah, Tavernay,” he said, “I am beginning to -suspect that there are depths in these peasants of -which we never dreamed. I have seen them fight -like heroes, and I had always thought them -cowards. Here to-night I have seen one stand<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span> -erect, a man, and I had fancied that they could -only crawl. When France wins through this peril -and shakes off this madness which has her by the -throat, there will be such a searching of hearts as -the world has never seen!”</p> - -<p>A sudden stillness had fallen upon the mob -below; no sound rose to the platform save the -crackling of the flames. We looked down to see -what this strange silence meant, and found that the -little groups of people had drawn still farther away -from the tower and were watching it with a kind -of awed expectancy. Their silence was infinitely -more sinister than their shouting. There was -something about it—something horrible and -threatening—which sent a chill to the marrow. -Why should they stand there staring at the tower? -What frightful thing was about to happen?</p> - -<p>My companion evidently felt the same foreboding, -for he gazed down at them with drawn -brows.</p> - -<p>“What do they mean?” he muttered. “What -do they mean?”</p> - -<p>He stared a moment longer, then turned to his -wife.</p> - -<p>“Come hither, my love,” he said, and when -she came, drew her to him and held her close.</p> - -<p>My heart was full to bursting. In an instant -I was beside Charlotte.</p> - -<p>“My love!” I said softly, and held out my arms -to her.</p> - -<p>“What is it?” she whispered. “Oh, what is -it?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span>“I do not know. They are preparing something, -awaiting something. It is the end perhaps.”</p> - -<p>“The end!” she echoed hoarsely. “The end!” -and she stared up into my eyes, her lips trembling.</p> - -<p>“And if it were,” I questioned gently, “would -you not wish to meet it with my arms about you? -Oh, they are longing for you!”</p> - -<p>She did not answer, but I fancied she swayed -toward me.</p> - -<p>In an instant she was close against my heart—close -against my heart!</p> - -<p>“Since this is the end,” I said softly, “since -there is no future, you are going to love me, are -you not, Charlotte? And there is a future! In -a moment more nothing can ever part us—your -soul and mine! Look at me, my love!”</p> - -<p>The tears were streaming down her face as she -lifted it to mine.</p> - -<p>“Kiss me!” she whispered. “Kiss me!”</p> - -<p>I bent and kissed her and felt her warm lips -answer. Oh, now I could smile in the very face of -death!</p> - -<p>“I love you!” I murmured, my pulses bounding -wildly. “I love you!—love you!—love you! -Now and always, I love you!—for life or -death!——”</p> - -<p>A deep roar burst upon the night, a sheet of -livid flame leaped upward toward us, and the -tower swayed and trembled as though smitten by -some mighty hand.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_162.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">A SHEET OF LIVID FLAME LEAPED UPWARD TOWARD US,<br /> -AND THE TOWER SWAYED</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIV.<br /> - -<span class="small">A BETTER MAN THAN I.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">I opened</span> my eyes to find the tower still standing -and my love clinging to me, her face tear-stained -and white.</p> - -<p>“We are safe!” she cried. “We are safe! -It was not the end!”</p> - -<p>Then the bonds of bewilderment were struck -away, for the mob with a wild yell charged toward -the tower as one man.</p> - -<p>“A mine!” cried M. le Comte. “A mine!” -And putting his wife gently from him, he hurled -himself toward the stair.</p> - -<p>Blindly I bent and kissed the red lips still raised -to mine, put away the clinging hands—with what -aching of the heart may be imagined—and followed -M. le Comte without daring to look back. -Down we flew, half smothered by the fumes of -sulphur and clouds of dust—down into that black -pit which yawned to swallow us—one flight, two—then -M. le Comte held me back.</p> - -<p>“Wait,” he said—“wait;” and he descended -cautiously some few steps. He was back beside -me in a moment. “They have made a breach,” -he said. “I could see the glint of their torches -through it. But they must clear away the debris -before they can enter. We have perhaps five -minutes.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span>“We can hold the stair.” I said. “It is steep -and narrow. Two swords can keep an army back.”</p> - -<p>“But once they gain entrance below us they -can burn us out. No, we must escape, Tavernay—or -make a dash for it. Better death by the sword -than by fire.”</p> - -<p>“And the women?”</p> - -<p>“For them,” he said with set teeth, “the same -death as for us—it is the only way. For me, my -wife; for you, Charlotte. Are you brave enough -to thrust your sword into her heart, my friend?”</p> - -<p>A cold sweat broke out upon me, head to foot.</p> - -<p>“God in heaven, no!” I cried, hoarsely. “Not -that—anything but that!”</p> - -<p>“As for me,” said my companion, with a terrible -calmness, “I prefer to kill my wife rather -than abandon her to the mercies of Goujon. Come, -Tavernay, be a man! You love her and yet you -hesitate!”</p> - -<p>“Love her! Oh, God!” I groaned.</p> - -<p>“Come! We have but a moment. They are -almost through!” and indeed I could hear the -frantic blows with which the debris was being -swept aside, could see the reflection of the torches’ -glare. By a supreme effort I controlled the trembling -which shook me.</p> - -<p>“Very well, monsieur,” I said, as calmly as I -could, “I am ready. What is it you propose?”</p> - -<p>By the dim glare of the torches I could see his -white face poised like a phantom’s in the air -before me.</p> - -<p>“Spoken like a man!” he said, and gripped my<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span> -hand. “What I propose is this—we will hold -this stair until they find they cannot carry it by -assault; then, as they prepare their fire, we will -ascend to the platform, bid the women good-by—God -of Heaven!—what is that?”</p> - -<p>I, too, heard the blood-curdling sound which -came suddenly from one corner of the room. It -was a sort of snarling whine, which rose and fell -and rose again, mixed with a hideous panting -which never stopped. There was something -bestial about it—something appalling, inhuman—yet -what beast could produce a sound like that?</p> - -<p>Cautiously we approached the corner, sword in -hand. Whatever it was, however formidable, we -must have it out—we could run no risk of being -taken in the rear. The great, draped bed loomed -through the darkness, sinister and threatening. -The sounds came from within it. As I stared with -starting eyes I fancied I could see the curtains -quiver, as though the Thing behind them was -trembling with eagerness to spring upon us.</p> - -<p>“A light! We must have a light!” cried M. -le Comte, stamping his feet in an agony of impatience. -“God’s blood! What is it, Tavernay?”</p> - -<p>Gripping my teeth to restrain their chattering, I -advanced to the bed and jerked down the rotting -curtains. They fell in a suffocating shower of -dust; yet even then I could see nothing of what -lay behind. But the noise had ceased.</p> - -<p>Then suddenly beside me rose a phantom, which, -even as I drew back my arm to strike, seized my -wrist and held it in a grip of steel.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span>“Not so fast, monsieur,” said a hoarse voice.</p> - -<p>“Pasdeloup!” I cried. “Pasdeloup! Was it -you, then?”</p> - -<p>But Pasdeloup had already turned to his master.</p> - -<p>“I have a rope, M. le Comte,” he said simply.</p> - -<p>“A rope! A rope! But where did you get it, -Pasdeloup?”</p> - -<p>“From the bed. Oh, I had trouble enough -loosening those knots! They had been tightened -by I know not what weight! The people who lay -in that bed were giants! And at the end I thought -it would be too late. But it is not—it is not! -Come—there is yet a chance!”</p> - -<p>He started for the stair, and at the same instant -there came from below a crash of falling stone -and a chorus of exultant yells.</p> - -<p>“They have broken through!” said M. le -Comte. “They will be upon us in a moment! -Tavernay, to you I confide my wife, and to you, -Pasdeloup! Hasten! Hasten! I will keep them -back;” and he took his station at the stair-head.</p> - -<p>Without a word Pasdeloup threw the rope to -me, sprang to the corner where the bed stood, -and with a single jerk ripped off one of the heavy -posts, tipped with iron; then pushing his master -aside, roughly and yet tenderly, he seized for -himself the post of danger from which there -could be no retreat.</p> - -<p>“Go, messieurs!” he cried. “Go quickly! -There is yet time!”</p> - -<p>We stood uncertain. It seemed such a cowardly -thing to run away, leaving this man to face that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span> -frenzied mob—to abandon him, to permit him to -lay down his life for us—such a cowardly thing!</p> - -<p>He glanced around to see us still standing there.</p> - -<p>“Not gone!” he cried furiously. “Body of -God! Are we all to die, then—and the women, -too? Fools! Cowards!”</p> - -<p>“He is right,” said M. le Comte hoarsely. “He -is right, Tavernay—it is cowardice holds us here! -We must go if we would save the women. Pasdeloup,” -he said, “I thank thee. I honor thee. -Thou art a better man than I!”</p> - -<p>“Go, monsieur!—go!” urged Pasdeloup. “I -am paying my debt. My life has been yours any -time these twenty years. It is nothing. Go!”</p> - -<p>Without a word, M. le Comte turned and started -up the stair. I followed him, my eyes blurred -with tears. And as we went we heard a rush of -feet behind us, then a chorus of groans and yells -which told us that the attack had begun and that -Pasdeloup stood firm.</p> - -<p>And M. le Comte’s words were ringing in my -head.</p> - -<p>Pasdeloup, Pasdeloup! A better man than I! -A better man than I!</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XV.<br /> - -<span class="small">THE END OF GABRIELLE’S TOWER.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Not</span> until we had reached the platform and -come out into the clear moonlight and the radiance -of the glow cast by the flames was it possible for -us to examine the rope and ascertain if Pasdeloup -had really provided us with a means of escape. -It was a cord, light, but of unusual strength, which -had been passed from side to side of the bed to -support the bedding, and was not rotted as I had -feared. But it was too short—a glance told me -that—too short by many feet to reach from the -parapet to the ground.</p> - -<p>“We must use one of the windows,” I said; -and M. le Comte assented with a motion of the -head.</p> - -<p>I ran down to the floor below, and closing my -ears as well as I could to the shrieks and curses of -the mob which was struggling to force a passage -of the stair, flung back the shutter of the window -which looked out upon the wood opposite the -château. Then cautiously I scanned the ground -about the tower, but could see no evidence of any -guard, nor any stragglers from the mob which -was hurling itself on Pasdeloup. With a deep -breath of relief I withdrew my head, and securing -one end of the cord to the great hinge of the -shutter, made a loop in the other.</p> - -<p>At that instant M. le Comte came down the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span> -stair bringing the women with him. He noted -my arrangements at a glance and approved them -with a nod.</p> - -<p>“Now, my love,” he said; and madame came -forward at once, pale, but holding herself admirably -in hand.</p> - -<p>By the moonlight which flooded the apartment -through the open window I perceived, dark against -her bosom, the handle of a dagger, and instantly -I knew who had given it to her, and why.</p> - -<p>“I am ready,” she said, and lifted a radiant -face to his.</p> - -<p>I knew that she believed she was going to her -death and was not afraid. They may rant about -equality as they will, but after all blood will tell.</p> - -<p>“Good!” he cried. “You are setting us all an -example of courage. Sit here on the window-sill—so; -now swing your feet over—so; now place -them in this loop and grasp the rope tightly. Stay -close by the tower until we descend. It will be -but a moment. And now good-by, my love.”</p> - -<p>She bent and kissed him, then let herself slide -slowly from the window-ledge while we braced -ourselves for the shock. I could see the shudder -which shook her as she whirled for a moment in -mid-air. I saw her teeth sink into her lip to -restrain the cry of terror which rose in her throat. -Then she succeeded in steadying herself, and we -lowered her hand over hand.</p> - -<p>“God grant that she has not been seen!” murmured -M. le Comte; and from my heart I echoed -the prayer.</p> - -<p>In a moment the rope slackened and we knew<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span> -that she had reached the ground. M. le Comte -leaned out and looked down at her and waved his -hand.</p> - -<p>“She is safe,” he said. “She has not been -seen.”</p> - -<p>In a breath we had drawn the rope up again.</p> - -<p>“Now, Charlotte,” said M. le Comte; and I -helped her to mount the window.</p> - -<p>“Mademoiselle,” I said hoarsely, “take this -pistol. Conceal it somewhere in your gown; and -if you are surprised, if you see there is no escape, -use it.”</p> - -<p>For an instant she did not understand; then -with a quick breath she held out her hand.</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” she said quietly. “I shall not -forget;” and she thrust the weapon beneath her -cloak.</p> - -<p>“Good-by, my love!” I whispered; and with -melting eyes she pressed her lips to mine. “My -love! My love!”</p> - -<p>She smiled at me tenderly; then she passed -slowly downward, out of sight. A moment more -and she, too, had reached the ground.</p> - -<p>So concerned had we been in getting them -safely down that neither of us had thought or ear -for the tumult beneath our feet; but now, as we -paused an instant to take breath, it seemed to me -that it was mounting toward us.</p> - -<p>“You next, M. le Comte,” I said; “and do not -wait for me. Get under cover of the wood, and I -will join you—but do not wait too long.”</p> - -<p>He hesitated an instant, then sprang to the sill.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span>“That is best,” he assented. “We shall wait -for you at the edge of the wood directly west of -the tower. You cannot miss us. And we will wait -until you come.”</p> - -<p>He gripped my hand, caught the rope, and disappeared -from the window. At the same instant -I turned and darted down the stair.</p> - -<p>At every step the pandemonium below grew in -volume until it seemed that all the fiends of hell -were fighting there. The pungent smell of powder -assailed my nostrils, and through the darkness I -caught the flash of musket and pistol and the -flare of torches. But with a gasp of relief I saw -that the mob had not yet gained a foothold in -the room.</p> - -<p>I sprang to one side where an angle of the wall -shielded me from the bullets, and paused to look -about me. The air was thick with smoke; and not -until I drew quite near could I perceive Pasdeloup’s -squat figure. He was standing at the head of the -stair, a little to one side, his huge club raised in -his hands. At that instant a shaggy head appeared -and the club fell upon it, crushing it like a shell -of glass. The body pitched forward quivering, and -again Pasdeloup raised his club and waited, like -the very god of death.</p> - -<p>As I silently took my place beside him I perceived -that the sounds from below were not all -yells of rage and triumph; there were groans -among them, and oaths, and screams of agony; -and as the smoke lifted for an instant I saw that -the stair was cumbered with bodies.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span>A sort of panic seized upon the mob as it discovered -its own losses, and for a moment it drew -back in terror before this mysterious and fearful -weapon, which slew, and slew—silent, untiring. -A sudden stillness fell upon them as they contemplated -that bloody stair—a stillness broken only -by those groans and curses. Then some one -shouted a sharp command, and a cloud of black -smoke puffed into our faces, and the odor of burning -straw.</p> - -<p>As I touched him on the arm, Pasdeloup, whose -attention had been wholly concentrated on the -stair, wheeled upon me, his club ready to strike.</p> - -<p>“Come!” I shouted in his ear. “Come!” -And I motioned to the stair behind us.</p> - -<p>“M. le Comte,” he demanded, “where is he?”</p> - -<p>“He is safe,” I answered. “So are the women. -Save yourself!”</p> - -<p>He glanced at the thickening smoke and sniffed -the air with distended nostrils.</p> - -<p>“They are going to burn us out,” he said; and -even as he spoke a tongue of yellow flame licked -the bottom of the stair.</p> - -<p>Then the wounded wretches stretched upon it -understood the fate in store for them. Their -shrieks redoubled; but now there were prayers -mingled with the curses. My heart turned sick -within me as I looked at them.</p> - -<p>“Come!” I urged, and plucked at my companion’s -sleeve.</p> - -<p>This time he nodded, and I sprang up the stair. -He followed at my heels.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span>“Here we are,” I said, and paused at the open -window.</p> - -<p>He motioned me to precede him. I sprang to -the sill, seized the cord and slid to the ground so -rapidly that it burnt into my fingers; but I scarcely -felt the pain. In a moment Pasdeloup stood beside -me.</p> - -<p>“This way,” he said; and without an instant’s -hesitation led the way toward a thicket near the -tower. We plunged into it without stopping to -look back and pushed our way forward until we -came to a little eminence bare of trees. Here we -paused to take breath.</p> - -<p>The dawn was just tinging the eastern sky, but -across the cold, grey light there burst suddenly -a mighty finger of flame. It was the tower, blazing -like a monster torch; and I shuddered as I -thought of the fate of the wretches who had -perished there.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVI.<br /> - -<span class="small">THE TRAGEDY.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Pasdeloup</span> did not so much as glance at the -blazing tower. He was gazing at the woods about -us, scanning each thicket with eyes preternaturally -bright. It was still too dark for me to discern -anything in the smudge of shadow beneath the -trees, but my companion seemed to labor under -no such disability. I knew of course that he was -searching for some trace of his master.</p> - -<p>“He said that he would wait for us at the edge -of the wood,” I told him, “straight westward -from the tower.”</p> - -<p>“We came that way,” said Pasdeloup gruffly. -“It was there I thought to find him, but he was -not there. I will go back again. Wait here for -me.”</p> - -<p>In an instant he had disappeared beneath the -trees so quietly that I did not hear so much as -the rustle of a leaf. He melted into the forest; -became a part of it.</p> - -<p>I turned back to the tower and watched the -flames as they leaped high in the heavens, as -though striving to touch the stars, which faded -and paled before the growing light in the east. -Dawn was at hand, and I realized the folly of -lingering there. That rope hanging from the -window must be soon discovered—perhaps had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span> -been discovered long ere this—and pursuit of -course would follow instantly. And my heart -suddenly chilled at the thought that perhaps M. -le Comte and the women had walked straight into -a trap which had been set for them.</p> - -<p>The thought brought me to my feet, and I -looked to right and left with an overpowering -feeling of helplessness. At the first step I would -be lost. And yet I could not stand idle——</p> - -<p>A sudden vivid sense of companionship caused -me to start around. It was Pasdeloup who had -returned as noiselessly as he had gone.</p> - -<p>“You found them?” I asked.</p> - -<p>He shook his head and sank to a sitting posture, -his brows knitted, his eyes staring straight before -him. I burned to ask the direction of his search, -the details of it, but something in his attitude -warned me to hold my tongue. Then suddenly his -face cleared and he sprang to his feet.</p> - -<p>“Come,” he said, and set off down the hill at a -pace which I found it hard to equal.</p> - -<p>Once among the trees the going was still more -difficult, but Pasdeloup sped forward with astonishing -ease and swiftness and as silently as a -shadow. As for myself, I floundered through the -underbrush and over the uneven ground as best -I could. But the best was bad enough, and more -than once I fancied that Pasdeloup had abandoned -me to my own resources, as I certainly deserved. -But always I found him patiently awaiting me. -He seemed to have some well-defined objective -point in view, for he went straight forward without<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span> -looking to right or left. We came out at the -end of half an hour into a gentle valley nearly -free of trees, and up this he turned almost at a -run. At last I panted after him up a little hill -and found him calmly sitting at the top.</p> - -<p>I flung myself beside him, breathless, utterly -exhausted.</p> - -<p>“Do not wait for me,” I said, as soon as I -could speak. “You must find them—they need -you more than I. I will shift for myself.”</p> - -<p>“We stop here,” he answered, still gruffly. -“They must pass this way.”</p> - -<p>At last I was able to sit up and look about me. -The hill on which we were stood at the junction -of two little valleys.</p> - -<p>“They must come by one of those,” continued -Pasdeloup. “We will wait until they pass.”</p> - -<p>“But why did they not wait for us in the -wood?” I questioned. “Perhaps M. le Comte -gave me up when I did not follow him.”</p> - -<p>“No,” said Pasdeloup. “They waited, but -they were discovered and forced to flee.”</p> - -<p>“Discovered?” I repeated despairingly.</p> - -<p>“At least a body of peasants passed over the -spot where they had stopped. Perhaps they were -not seen.”</p> - -<p>I breathed again.</p> - -<p>“And they will come this way?”</p> - -<p>“They must, if they keep to the cover of the -woods.”</p> - -<p>“They will, of course, do that,” I said, and -strained my eyes down each of the valleys in turn.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span>Our position commanded a considerable view -of the surrounding country, but the château was -hidden by a low spur of hill which ran down into -the valley at our left. I fancied I could still see -in the sky the reflection of the light from the -burning tower, but a moment later I saw it was the -sun just peeping over the trees to the east.</p> - -<p>Then I began to chafe at the delay, for it seemed -to me that we were wasting time. I glanced at -my companion and found that apparently he had -totally forgotten me.</p> - -<p>“Pasdeloup,” I said at last, “are you quite sure -that M. le Comte must pass this hill?”</p> - -<p>He looked up with a start and a frown.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he answered harshly; and I saw that -he himself was disturbed by the delay. “To north -and south are only open fields where people are -working, and many houses. He could not hope to -pass that way unseen, especially with the women. -He will know this. He will know that he must -follow this valley to the west. In this way he can -keep to the shelter of the hills until he reaches -the valley of the Dive. Beyond that is the -Bocage.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” I agreed; “it is the Bocage he will seek -to reach. But perhaps he has already passed.”</p> - -<p>Pasdeloup shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Impossible. We came by a shorter way which -the women could not have followed. Besides, he -said he would wait for you. It is that which is -delaying him. He fancies you are lost somewhere -in the woods down yonder. I shall have to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span> -seek him;” and he rose to his feet with sudden -resolution.</p> - -<p>Then he stopped and stood for an instant staring -down the valley.</p> - -<p>“It is they!” he cried. “It is they!”</p> - -<p>I sprang to my feet and followed with my eyes -his pointing finger. For some moments I saw -nothing—only the tangle of trees and underbrush; -then I caught a movement among the trees and -three figures came out into the little glade below -us.</p> - -<p>The women advanced slowly and with difficulty, -as though already weary. M. le Comte paused to -look back.</p> - -<p>“You were right,” I said, touched to the heart. -“He is still seeking me.” But Pasdeloup had -placed his hand behind his ear and was listening -intently, his face of a sudden rigid as stone.</p> - -<p>“They have waited for you too long,” he said -roughly. “They are followed;” and he plunged -down the hillside, I after him.</p> - -<p>M. le Comte had given an arm to each of the -women and was hurrying them forward, encouraging -each in turn. Not until we were almost upon -them did he hear us; then he snatched out his -pistols and whirled toward us.</p> - -<p>“M. le Comte!” I cried. “Madame!” But -my eyes were only for that other face, gray and -dreary in the cold light of the morning. She had -been staring listlessly at the ground, but at sound -of my voice she started round upon me, her face -white as death.</p> - -<p>“Tavernay!” cried M. le Comte, a great light<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span> -in his eyes. “And Pasdeloup! Ah, I understand -now why you lingered!” and he held out a hand -to each of us. “We thought you dead! We -thought the flames had caught you!”</p> - -<p>“Come,” said Pasdeloup. “This is no time -for words.”</p> - -<p>“You are right,” agreed his master. “Tavernay, -I again entrust Charlotte to you.”</p> - -<p>I crossed to her, took her hands in mine and -drew her to me.</p> - -<p>“I thought you dead,” she murmured, raising -brimming eyes to mine. “I thought you had -stayed too long;” and I felt how she was trembling.</p> - -<p>“Come!” cried Pasdeloup again; “there is a -hiding-place, if we can only reach it;” and he -glanced anxiously over his shoulder.</p> - -<p>I drew my love forward, my arm still about her.</p> - -<p>“We are going to escape,” I murmured in her -ear. “We are going to be very happy. God -intends it.”</p> - -<p>She looked up into my eyes and smiled tremulously. -I could guess how near she was to absolute -exhaustion and did my best to shield her. -Our way for a time led over a smooth meadow, -then we plunged into the rocky bed of a brook -which mounted so steeply that our progress was -very slow. The way grew more and more rough, -great boulders blocked the path, and on either -side the banks of the torrent rose abruptly to a -height of many feet.</p> - -<p>Then, from far down the valley behind us, came -the bay of a hound.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span>M. le Comte stopped and listened.</p> - -<p>“I know that sound,” he said. “That is -Roland. What can he be hunting?”</p> - -<p>“He is hunting his master,” answered Pasdeloup -grimly. “Goujon devised that trick.”</p> - -<p>“Goujon!” murmured M. le Comte. “Always -Goujon.”</p> - -<p>“It was he trained the dog,” added Pasdeloup. -“Come; we are losing time.”</p> - -<p>“The women cannot go much farther along -such a road as this,” his master warned him.</p> - -<p>“We have not far to go—just around that turn -yonder, and we are safe.”</p> - -<p>Suddenly behind us rose a chorus of savage yells.</p> - -<p>“They have seen us!” said M. le Comte.</p> - -<p>I drew my companion to me and half carried -her up the steep slope over which in rainy weather -the torrent plunged. Pasdeloup had already -reached the top. As I looked back I saw a mob -of men clambering savagely over the rocks below. -At that instant M. le Comte panted up with -madame in his arms.</p> - -<p>“There!” he said with a smile of triumph, as -he placed her on her feet. “That is accomplished! -For the moment we are safe. They will never -dare——”</p> - -<p>A single musket shot rang out. I saw the smoke -drift slowly up, and at the same instant madame -staggered and fell into her husband’s outstretched -arms.</p> - -<p>“What is it?” he cried. “Oh, my love! My -love!”</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_180.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">AS I LOOKED BACK I SAW A MOB OF MEN CLAMBERING<br /> -SAVAGELY OVER THE ROCKS BELOW</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span>Her eyes were open and she was gazing fondly -up at him. She tried to speak, but could not. Her -lips were flecked with blood. Then her eyes closed, -her arm fell limp.</p> - -<p>It had happened so suddenly that I could not -realize it—could not believe it.</p> - -<p>“Come,” said Pasdeloup again, and touched -his master’s arm.</p> - -<p>M. le Comte lifted to us a face convulsed.</p> - -<p>“Go!” he said hoarsely. “Pasdeloup, I -charge you with those two. Save them! I can -hold this mob back.”</p> - -<p>Pasdeloup looked down at them. They were -very near and climbing steadily upward. With -a strength almost superhuman he caught up a huge -boulder and sent it bounding toward them down -the slope. They saw it coming and scattered; then, -when a second followed it, fled wildly. Their -advance had been checked for the moment.</p> - -<p>Pasdeloup turned back to his master.</p> - -<p>“Come,” he said again.</p> - -<p>M. le Comte laid his wife’s body gently down -and stood erect.</p> - -<p>“I tell you I die here,” he said, a great calmness -in his eyes. “Will you obey me, or will you -not? I command you to guide these two to the -hiding-place you spoke of.”</p> - -<p>For an instant Pasdeloup’s eyes blazed defiance; -then he glanced down at the enemy, and his lips -curved into a smile. He bent his head and set -off up the stream.</p> - -<p>“Follow him, Tavernay,” commanded M. le<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span> -Comte, seeing that I hesitated. “I would not -save my life if I could—it is loathsome to me. I -commend Charlotte to you. Go straight west to -the Bocage; there you will find friends. God bless -you!”</p> - -<p>“I cannot go,” I faltered. “I cannot leave you -here. That would be too cowardly!”</p> - -<p>“Cowardly?” he echoed, facing around upon -me. “It is I who have chosen the coward’s part! -To you I give a duty far more difficult. Ah, here -they come!” he added, and raised his pistols. -“Go—I beg of you. Be brave enough to go.”</p> - -<p>I could do nothing but obey—no other path lay -open. With sinking heart I passed my arm again -about the waist of my companion, who had seemingly -lapsed into a sort of stupor, and followed -Pasdeloup who was awaiting us impatiently at a -little distance.</p> - -<p>“This way,” he said; and turned from the bed -of the torrent up the steep hillside. I paused for -one backward glance at the friend I had abandoned. -He was standing erect, pistols in hand. -The tears blinded me, and I hastened on.</p> - -<p>In a moment Pasdeloup stopped.</p> - -<p>“Do you see that ledge of rock up yonder overgrown -with vines?” he asked. “Put the vines -aside and you will find behind them a very comfortable -cavern. Enter it and you are safe.”</p> - -<p>“And you?” I asked, seeing that he turned -away.</p> - -<p>“I? Oh, I return to my master;” and he was -off in an instant.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span>I gazed after him, touched anew by that dog-like -devotion, until he disappeared from sight -down the bed of the torrent. In the distance I -heard a rattle of muskets. They were attacking -him, then; and I pictured to myself that gallant -figure defying them, his eyes gleaming, a smile -upon his lips. Ah, if I were only there beside him!</p> - -<p>Then suddenly I became conscious of a dead -weight on my arm, and glanced down to see that -Charlotte was lying there unconscious.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVII.<br /> - -<span class="small">I TAKE A VOW.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">For</span> an instant I was so shaken by that dead -weight on my arm, by that white drawn face -turned blindly up to mine, that my heart stopped -in my bosom; for I recalled that other white face -and that other limp form I had seen but a moment -since. Then I shook the horror off.</p> - -<p>“She has only fainted,” I told myself. “She is -not dead; she cannot be dead; it is nothing; it -will pass in a moment;” and gripping my teeth -together in a very agony of effort I lifted her in -my arms and set off up the hillside toward the -ledge which Pasdeloup had pointed out. How -I reached it I know not, for ere I covered half the -distance the world was reeling red before me and -the blood pounding like a hammer in my brain. -But reach it I did, and pushing aside that curtain -of vines, I saw behind it the dark entrance to -the cavern, framed by the solid rock. I stooped -and entered, then laid my burden gently on the -hard, dry floor, and flung myself well-nigh senseless -beside her.</p> - -<p>But a moment or two sufficed to give me back -my breath, and struggling to my feet I first -assured myself that the leafy curtain had fallen -naturally into place. Then I made a quick circuit -of the cavern. I found it rudely circular, with a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span> -diameter of perhaps a rod and a height of half -as much. Pasdeloup had doubtless occupied it -more than once, for in one corner was a pile of dry -moss, which had evidently served for a bed. To -this I bore that still, limp body and fell to -chafing wrist and temple, with a harrowing fear -again gripping my heart. She was so pale, so -haggard, her hands were so cold and nerveless, -that I was almost ready to believe that the horrors -and hardships of the night had slain her. There -was no pulse, no respiration....</p> - -<p>Despairingly I let the limp hand fall. My path -lay clear before me—I would share the fate of -my companions—I would die beside them!</p> - -<p>I bent and kissed her lips, softly, reverently. -And in that instant a gentle sigh came from them, -her eyes opened and she lay looking up at me.</p> - -<p>“Then you are not dead!” I cried. “You are -not dead!” And I caught up her hands again -and chafed them madly, feeling with joy indescribable -the warmth of life returning to them.</p> - -<p>She lay still a moment longer, then gently drew -her hands away and raised herself to a sitting -posture.</p> - -<p>“Where are we?” she questioned, staring about -her in the green half-light which filtered through -the leafy curtain.</p> - -<p>“We are in a cavern which Pasdeloup knew of,” -I explained. “We are safe.”</p> - -<p>“I thought we were under the ocean,” she said, -still staring about her. “Far down in the depths -of the ocean—I have always fancied it must be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span> -like this. But where are the others?” she demanded -suddenly.</p> - -<p>“That I do not know,” I answered as cheerfully -as I could. “No doubt they have escaped in -another direction;” but in my heart I knew the -absurdity of such a hope.</p> - -<p>“You left them, then?” she questioned, looking -at me from under level brows.</p> - -<p>“M. le Comte commanded it,” I answered flushing. -“Do you not remember?”</p> - -<p>She pressed her hands to her temples.</p> - -<p>“I remember nothing,” she said at last, “except -that we climbed a great mountain, and that your -arm was about me, aiding me.”</p> - -<p>I breathed a sigh of relief that her memory -stopped there.</p> - -<p>“Shall I go back and look for them?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“No, no!” she protested, and caught my hand. -“Do not leave me here—at least not yet!”</p> - -<p>“I shall have to go before long. We must -have food.”</p> - -<p>“I want no food—I feel as though I never -shall.”</p> - -<p>“Nevertheless you must eat. You must be -strong and brave. We have a long journey before -us.”</p> - -<p>“A long journey?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; we shall not be really safe until we are -among M. le Comte’s friends in the Bocage.”</p> - -<p>“Is that far?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“Not so far but that we shall win through -safely,” I assured her.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span>She lay back again upon the moss with a long -sigh of utter weariness.</p> - -<p>“You must sleep,” I added, gently. “Do not -fight it off—yield to it. You will need your -strength—all of it—for to-night.”</p> - -<p>“For to-night?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; we dare not start until darkness comes, -and we must get forward as far as we can ere -daybreak. You can sleep in perfect security. No -one suspects that we are hidden here.”</p> - -<p>She did not answer, but turned on one side, laid -her head upon her arm and closed her eyes. Sleep, -I knew, would claim her in a moment.</p> - -<p>I crept forward to the mouth of the cavern and -sitting down behind the screen of vines pulled -them aside a little and peered down the valley, in -the hope that I might see Pasdeloup and M. le -Comte making their way toward us. But there -was no one in sight, nor could I hear any sound -of conflict in the direction whence we had come. -It might be, I told myself, that Pasdeloup by some -miracle had again succeeded in saving his master, -and that they had fled together in some other -direction; but I felt there were limits to the power -of even his supreme devotion. Certainly no situation -could have been more critical and hopeless -than that in which I had left my friend.</p> - -<p>Whatever the result of that struggle, there was -evidently nothing left for me to do save to stand -sentinel over my companion and see that no harm -came to her. I sat down with my back against -the wall of stone and composed myself as comfortably<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span> -as I could to watch the valley. Indeed my -posture was too comfortable. The knowledge -that we were safe, the lifting of the cloud of -horror, the slackening of the strain under which -I had labored, left me strangely weary. My eyelids -drooped, and before I realized the danger I -was sound asleep.</p> - -<p>I awoke with a guilty start, but a single glance -down into the valley reassured me—no danger -threatened us from that direction. How long I -had slept I could not guess, but it must have been -some hours, for I felt refreshed, invigorated, ready -for anything—ready especially to undertake an -energetic search for food to appease the gnawing -in my stomach.</p> - -<p>But first I turned back into the cave and bent -over my companion. She was still sleeping peacefully. -A ray of light which had fought its way -through the leafy curtain fell upon her face in -benediction. I saw how sleep had wiped away the -lines of weariness and care, and I knew she would -be ready for the task which nightfall would bring -with it.</p> - -<p>I drew her cloak more closely about her, then -went out softly, leaving her undisturbed. I -glanced up and down the valley to assure myself -that I was unobserved, drew carefully together the -veil of vines behind me, then paused a moment to -reflect. I had two things to do—I must secure -food, and I must discover if possible the fate of -our companions. I resolved to do the latter first, -and so proceeded cautiously down the valley, keeping<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span> -a sharp lookout on every side. I thought for -a time that I had got my directions strangely -reversed, for the sun appeared to be rising in the -west instead of in the east; but I soon perceived -that it was not rising at all, but setting, and that -instead of being mid-morning, it was mid-afternoon. -I had slept not three or four hours, as I had -fancied, but eight or nine.</p> - -<p>That discovery had the effect of hastening my -steps and lessening my caution. I had no time to -lose, and whatever the result of the fight at the -cliff, it was improbable that any of the enemy had -lingered so long in the neighborhood. So I went -forward boldly and as swiftly as I could, down -the hill, into the narrow bed of the torrent where -now murmured the clear waters of a little brook, -over the rough stones, around a jagged point of -rock—and the scene of the fight lay before me.</p> - -<p>For a moment I saw only the rocks, the red -earth. Then my eye was caught by a huddled -mass so trampled into the mud as to be almost -indistinguishable from it, yet unmistakably a -human body. I hastened to it; I bent above it and -stared down into the battered and blackened face. -Disfigured, repulsive as it was, I knew it instantly—it -was Pasdeloup.</p> - -<p>With a sudden feeling of suffocation I stood -erect and looked about me, trembling at the -thought of the dread objects my eyes sought and -yet shrank from. Then I drew a quick breath of -relief, of joy, of thankfulness. Pasdeloup had -sacrificed his life, indeed, but not in vain. His<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span> -master had escaped—by some miracle he had -escaped, bearing his wife with him. But which -way had he gone? Why had he not pressed forward -to the cave? Which way——</p> - -<p>I stopped, shivering, my eyes burning into my -brain; for there, in cruel exposure half way down -the slope, were two objects....</p> - -<p>How I got down to them, shaken as I was by -the agony of that discovery, I know not. I remember -only the tempest of wild rage which burst -within me as I looked down at those mutilated -figures. And I held my clenched hands -above my head and swore, as there was a God in -heaven, that I would have vengeance on the devil -who had done this thing. He should pay for it—he -should pay to the uttermost, drop by drop. I -vowed myself to the task. By my father’s memory, -by my mother’s honor, by my hope of heaven, I -swore that for me there should be no rest, no -happiness, no contentment, until I had pulled this -monster down and sent his soul to the torture -which awaited it.</p> - -<p>For an instant the mad thought seized me to -set off at once on the trail of the murderers, to -harry them, cleave them asunder, seize the fiend -who had set them on and wring his life out. A -superhuman strength possessed me, a divine ardor -of vengeance; and not for an instant did I doubt -that God would nerve my arm to accomplish all -this. But suddenly I remembered that another -duty had been laid upon me. I must discharge<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span> -that first; I must go on to the Bocage. Then I -could turn back to Dange.</p> - -<p>I grew calmer after a time; that divine rage -passed and left me weak and shaken. I sat limply -down upon a nearby stone and gazed at those -desecrated bodies, with hot tears starting from my -eyes at thought of the gallant man and fair woman -for whom this hideous fate had been reserved. -In that moment of anguish there was but one -comforting reflection—she had died with her husband’s -arms about her, his voice in her ears, his -kisses on her lips.</p> - -<p>Yet, deserted, insentient as they were, I could -not leave these bodies here to rot in the sun, food -for carrion birds and unclean beasts of the night. -Nor could I spare the time to bury them, for the -sun was already sinking toward the horizon. I -glanced despairingly about me—then I saw the -way.</p> - -<p>Twenty feet above the bed of the stream some -tremendous freshet had eaten into the bank and so -undermined it that it seemed to hang tottering in -the air. In a moment I had carried the bodies, -one by one, into the shadow of this bank and laid -them tenderly side by side. Then I hesitated—but -only for an instant. I went straight to the spot -where Pasdeloup lay, and half dragging, half -carrying, placed him at last beside his master, -where he surely had the right to lie—where I was -certain he would have wished to lie.</p> - -<p>As I was about to turn away a sudden thought -struck me. I had donned my gayest suit the night<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span> -before,—the suit indeed I had not thought to wear -until I approached the high altar at Poitiers,—and -though it was already sadly soiled and torn, -it must still attract attention to a man with no -better means of conveyance than his legs. Here -was a disguise ready to my hand; for under the -rude garments which Pasdeloup had worn—stained -as they were with blood and dirt—no one -would suspect the Royalist. In a moment I had -stripped off his stockings, blouse and breeches, -cleaned the caked mud from them as well as I -could, and throwing my own garments over him, -donned his,—not without a shiver of repugnance,—taking -care to transfer to my new attire -my purse, my ammunition, and the one pistol -which remained to me, and to secure the knife -which had already done such execution, and which -I found gripped in his right hand. I tied his -coarse handkerchief about my head, and stopping -only for a little prayer clambered to the top of -the bank and with my sword began to loosen the -overhanging earth. Great cracks showed here and -there, and it must soon have fallen of its own -weight. So very little remained for me to do, and -at the end of a moment’s work I saw the cracks -slowly widen.</p> - -<p>Then, with a dull crash which echoed along the -valley, the earth fell upon the bodies, burying them -to a depth of many feet, safe from desecration by -the fang of brute or the eye of man.</p> - -<p>The tears were streaming down my face as I -turned away; but I could not linger, for darkness<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span> -was at hand and I had already been too long absent -from my charge. I flung my sword far down the -cliff, for I would have no further need of it, then -with all the speed at my command I retraced my -steps along the bed of the stream and upward -toward the ledge of rock. As I approached it I -fancied I saw a figure slip quickly out of sight -behind the vines. Dreading I knew not what, I -hastened my steps, swept aside the curtain and -stooped to enter.</p> - -<p>But even as I did so there came a burst of flame -almost in my face, and I felt a sharp, vivid pain -tear across my cheek.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVIII.<br /> - -<span class="small">CIRCE’S TOILET.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">So</span> blinded was I by the flash and by the swirl -of acrid smoke which followed it that for an -instant I thought there had been some terrible -explosion—another mine perhaps, designed to -wreck our cavern and entomb us beneath the -rocks. Then, in an agony of fear, not for myself, -but for the girl confided to my keeping, I sprang -forward, determined to close with my assailant -before he could fire again. Once my fingers were -at his throat, I knew he would never fire....</p> - -<p>But at the third step I stumbled over some -obstruction and came headlong to the floor. I was -up again in an instant, my back to the wall, my -pistol in my hand, wondering at my escape. But -there was no second attack, not a sound, save my -own hurried breathing.</p> - -<p>Then, as my eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, -I saw with astonishment that the cavern was -empty. What was it that had happened? Who -was it had fired that shot at me? What was the -obstruction which had brought me down? I could -just discern it on the floor before me—a dim, -huddled mass. I went to it, bent over it, peered -down at it—and in a sudden panic terror saw that -it was Charlotte! The fiends had been watching -then; they had seen me leave the cavern; they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span> -had seen me desert her—fool that I was!—they -had waited till I was safely away; then they had -crept in upon her, surprised her as she slept, -secure in the thought that I was watching over -her!</p> - -<p>With a groan of agony I groped for her wrist -and found myself clutching a pistol whose barrel -was still warm. In a flash I understood, and my -heart bounded again with joy, the while I cursed -my carelessness. It was she who had fired at me! -How was she to know me in this garb? She had -been watching for me outside the cave, and had -seen a brigand approaching her. She had slipped -behind the curtain, and a moment later I had burst -in upon her without a word of warning. Fool -that I was! Fool! Fool! And yet my heart -was singing with joy and thankfulness—joy that -she had escaped; thankfulness that she had turned -the pistol against me and not against herself! -Had she done that!—but I shook the thought from -me lest I break down completely.</p> - -<p>I drew her to the entrance of the cavern that -the cool air of the evening might play upon her -face. At the end of a moment her lips parted in -a faint sigh, her bosom rose and fell convulsively -and she opened her eyes and stared up at me with -a gaze in which horror grew and deepened.</p> - -<p>“Do you not know me, my love?” I asked. -“It is Tavernay. See!” and I snatched off Pasdeloup’s -knotted headgear.</p> - -<p>The warm color flooded her face, and she sat -suddenly upright.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span>“Then it was you!” she gasped. “It was -you!”</p> - -<p>“Yes;” and I laughed with the sheer joy of -seeing her again so full of life. “It was I at -whom you discharged your pistol. An inch to the -right, and I should not be talking to you now;” -and I placed my finger on the still smarting scratch -across my cheek.</p> - -<p>She gave one glance at it, then fell forward, -sobbing, her face between her hands. What would -I not have given to take her in my arms—to hold -her close against my heart—to kiss away those -tears! But even in that moment there was about -her something which held me back; something -which recalled the promise I had made her; something -which bade me remember that she was in -my care, defenseless. So I stilled the hot pulsing -of my blood as far as in me lay, and even succeeded -in speaking with a certain coldness.</p> - -<p>“Mademoiselle,” I said, touching her delicate, -quivering shoulder, “it was nothing—or rather -it was just what you should have done. The fault -was wholly mine. I should not have burst in upon -you like that; but I was so worried, so anxious to -know that you were safe. You were right in -shooting. If you had killed me it would have -been no more than I deserved. I blame only -myself, and bitterly. I was a fool. I hope you -will find it in your heart to pardon me.”</p> - -<p>Her sobs had ceased, and as I finished she threw -back her hair and sat erect again. I saw with -astonishment and relief that she was smiling—and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span> -I found her smile more disturbing than her -tears.</p> - -<p>“Then we are quits, are we not,” she asked, -“since we each made a mistake?”</p> - -<p>“You did not make a mistake,” I protested, “so -we are not quits until you have forgiven me.”</p> - -<p>She held out her hand with a charming gesture.</p> - -<p>“You are forgiven,” she said, “so far as you -need forgiveness. And now,” she continued, -drawing away the hand which I had not the -courage to relinquish, and rising quickly to her -feet, “what are your plans?”</p> - -<p>“There is down yonder,” I answered, “a charming -little brook, which purls over the stones, and -stops to loiter, here and there, in the basins of the -rock. The water is very cool and clear.”</p> - -<p>“Then come!” she cried. “Ah, I am desperately -thirsty and frightfully dirty. I am -ashamed for you to see me!”</p> - -<p>“I was just marvelling,” I retorted, “that you -had kept yourself so immaculate. I cannot understand -it.”</p> - -<p>“Immaculate!” she echoed, and set off down -the slope.</p> - -<p>But suddenly she stopped.</p> - -<p>“Shall we return?” she asked. “Shall we see -the cave again?”</p> - -<p>“No, I think not,” I answered; “we must be -starting westward.”</p> - -<p>“Then I must say good-by to it;” and she ran -back to the entrance, drew aside the curtain and -fell upon her knees. I saw her throw a kiss into<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span> -the darkness and her head bent for a moment as -though in prayer. I, too, closed my eyes and -prayed God that He would give me strength to -guide this woman through to safety. At last she -arose and rejoined me.</p> - -<p>“It is a lovable cave,” she said, “and it kept us -safe. It would have been ungrateful to go away -without a word of thanks;” and somehow, for -me, as for her, the cavern in that instant assumed -a personality, benign and cheerful. I could fancy -it glowing with pleasure at thought of this last -good deed.</p> - -<p>“You were right,” I agreed. “But then you -are always right.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no,” she protested quickly. “Sometimes -I am very wrong. But you will discover that for -yourself.”</p> - -<p>“Shall I? When?”</p> - -<p>“All too soon, I fear;” and she looked at me -with a curious little smile.</p> - -<p>“I don’t believe it!” I retorted, with conviction.</p> - -<p>She only smiled again in a way I could not -understand, and blushed and went on without -speaking. Who can read a woman’s thoughts? -Certainly not I!</p> - -<p>But I was fiercely, madly happy. For the -moment no thought of the future, of its penalties -and duties, shadowed me. I was content to be -here with this brave and lovely girl, alone with -her—a comrade and friend. Since nothing more -was possible,—since to friend and comrade I could -not add lover,—I would yet be happy in what was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span> -granted me. And that I must be content with this, -I saw too well—not in any coldness or aversion, -but by a subtle change of manner, the merest -nuance of expression, which at the same time kept -me near to her, and yet held me away. On the -tower she had permitted my endearments, had -even raised her lips to mine; but that was looking -in the face of death at a moment when we need -take no thought for the future—at a moment when -she had wished to comfort me, and herself stood -in need of comfort. But we had emerged from -that shadow; there was the future again to be -reckoned with, and between us an impalpable but -invulnerable veil was stretched which I must never -hope to pass.</p> - -<p>We reached the brook, and I placed two broad -flat stones at the edge of a little pool where the -lucid water paused for an instant before pursuing -its course along the rocky way, and watched her -while she stooped and drank. She had cast aside -her cloak, and I noted with a clear delight the -soft curve of her arms, the slim grace of neck -and shoulders.</p> - -<p>“Now it is your turn, my friend,” she said, and -made room for me.</p> - -<p>I knelt and drank too. How good the water -tasted! How it cleansed and purified the parched -throat! How it heartened the whole body!</p> - -<p>“And now I shall use some of it externally,” -she said, as I stood aside; and I sat down on a -nearby rock to enjoy the spectacle.</p> - -<p>She rolled back her sleeves and bound her hair<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span> -in a tight coil upon her head. Then from some -hidden pocket she produced a dainty handkerchief, -and dipping it in the stream, applied it vigorously -to face and neck. I saw her skin glow and brighten -under touch of the cool water; she seemed like a -nymph——</p> - -<p>Suddenly she looked aside and caught my eyes.</p> - -<p>“Is this the first time you have seen a lady at -her toilet, M. de Tavernay?” she asked, witheringly.</p> - -<p>“The very first, mademoiselle.”</p> - -<p>“And you feel no compunctions of conscience -for keeping your seat there?”</p> - -<p>“None in the least,” I answered calmly. “I -must see that no enemy surprises you.”</p> - -<p>“From which direction would an enemy -come?”</p> - -<p>“Probably from down the valley.”</p> - -<p>“You have eyes, then, in the back of your -head? How fortunate!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I glance around from time to time,” I -explained coolly. “Surely you would not deny -me the pleasure I have in looking at you! That -would be heartless!”</p> - -<p>She glanced at me again, with a little pout.</p> - -<p>“But I should think that you yourself would -feel the need of a bath,” she retorted.</p> - -<p>“So that you might feel some pleasure in looking -at me?” I asked. “I know I must appear -a most hideous scoundrel. My skin is fairly -stiff with the dirt upon it; and yet I dare not so -much as touch it with water.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span>“Dare not?”</p> - -<p>“A clean skin would hardly be in keeping with -this clothing,” I pointed out.</p> - -<p>“That is true,” she admitted, with a swift glance -over it. “But why did you assume such a disguise? -Who will see you?”</p> - -<p>“Many people, I am afraid. In the first place -we must have food.”</p> - -<p>“It is useless to deny that I am very hungry,” -she agreed.</p> - -<p>“Instead of seeking food, I fell asleep,” I confessed -miserably. “I shall never forgive myself.”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense! We both of us needed rest first -of all. Indeed I find the pangs of hunger rather -exhilarating—and how I shall relish the food when -we get it! But continue: whom else shall you -meet?”</p> - -<p>“In the second place,” I went on, “I must ask -my way, since I am wholly unfamiliar with this -country.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, of course.”</p> - -<p>“And in the third place, in a country even -thinly settled, we must be prepared for chance -encounters. To all the people we meet I must -appear a peasant in order to protect you.”</p> - -<p>“To protect me?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; you are my prisoner—a spoil of war; -there is a price on your head which I am anxious -to secure. I may even have to be a little brutal -with you.”</p> - -<p>“I pardon you in advance,” she smiled. “Do -not hesitate to be as brutal as is needful.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span>“I had thought at first,” I explained, “of -endeavoring to get for you a disguise somewhat -like my own, but I saw the folly of the plan when -I came to consider it.”</p> - -<p>“Why, pray?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, mademoiselle,” I said, “you would be no -less beautiful in the dress of a peasant than in the -robe of a queen! Such a disguise would deceive -no one. On the contrary, it would serve only to -attract attention, since a diamond is never so -brilliant as in a tarnished setting.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, monsieur,” she said, bowing. -“That was very prettily turned. But since you -slumbered all the afternoon, where did you find -those garments? Had some one thrown them -away?”</p> - -<p>“No, mademoiselle,” I stammered, turning red -and white, for I had not expected the question. -“I—that is——”</p> - -<p>“What is it?” she demanded, looking at me -steadily. “Do not fear to tell me. Oh, I have -been selfish! I have been thinking only of myself! -Where are the others, M. de Tavernay? Where -are our friends? Did they, also, escape?”</p> - -<p>With her clear eyes upon me, it was impossible -to lie as I had intended doing.</p> - -<p>“No,” I answered in a low voice, “they did not -escape.”</p> - -<p>“They were captured?” she cried, her face -livid.</p> - -<p>“Oh, not so bad as that! Thank God, not so -bad as that! Madame was killed by that first shot<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span> -and died in the arms of the man she loved, smiling -up at him. M. le Comte and Pasdeloup met the -end as brave men should, facing the enemy. It -was only I who ran away,” I added, the tears -blinding me.</p> - -<p>She held out her hand with a quick gesture of -sympathy and understanding.</p> - -<p>“It was for my sake,” she said softly. “Never -forget that, my friend. In telling the story over to -yourself never forget that.”</p> - -<p>“You are kind,” I murmured with full heart. -“That thought alone consoles me—it was not for -myself I fled.”</p> - -<p>And then I told her of the grave which I had -improvised, of how I had placed Pasdeloup’s body -beside that of his master. She heard me to the end -with shining eyes; and when I had ended she sat -for a moment, her hand still in mine, her head -bowed; and I knew that she was praying.</p> - -<p>“They are at peace,” she said at last, looking -up at me with eyes tear-dimmed. “Nothing can -harm them now. And God will avenge them.”</p> - -<p>“I am sure of it,” I answered, “for I am the -instrument which He has chosen.”</p> - -<p>“The instrument?”</p> - -<p>“I have sworn to kill the scoundrel who set -them on,” I said simply. “I know that He heard -the oath and approved it.”</p> - -<p>She sat looking at me a moment longer, then -passed her hand before her eyes and rose to her -feet.</p> - -<p>“You will keep the vow, M. de Tavernay,” she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span> -said quietly; “I am sure of it. And the same -God who listened and approved will see you safe -through for your guerdon at the end.”</p> - -<p>“My guerdon!” I stammered, startled out of -my self-control. “Ah, mademoiselle, I crave no -guerdon; at least there is only one——”</p> - -<p>She was looking at me steadily, and the words -died upon my lips, for the veil had fallen again -between us.</p> - -<p>“Come, monsieur,” she said in another tone, -“we must be setting forward. See—it is growing -dark.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIX.<br /> - -<span class="small">THE FIRST VENTURE.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">We</span> turned our faces westward toward the sun, -whose last rays were gilding the clouds along the -horizon, following the little valley which had been -hollowed in the hills by the stream at which we -had drunk. As we went on, this valley opened -more and more, changing from a rough and precipitous -aspect to one smooth and rolling, giving -promise of human occupancy. Our most urgent -need was food, and I determined to apply for it -at the first house we came to, no matter what its -appearance,—first with silver, and if that failed, -with a loaded pistol as a persuasive.</p> - -<p>So I kept a sharp lookout, but for nearly an -hour we pressed forward without catching a -glimpse of any human habitation save a few shacks -long since deserted and falling to decay. Plainly -this country had not escaped the blight which had -fallen on the rest of France—which swept the -peasants into the armies, drove the nobles abroad, -and left the fields deserted. Darkness closed in -about us as we went; but I still kept my eyes to -left and right, in the hope that they might be -greeted by a ray of light from some welcome -window.</p> - -<p>At last my companion, who had kept close at my -heels, halted and sank down upon a hummock of -earth with a sigh of weariness.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span>“I fear I must ask a breathing-spell, my friend,” -she said.</p> - -<p>“Of course,” I answered instantly. “I have -been thoughtless;” and I dropped beside her. -Even in the darkness I could see by the white face -she bent upon me how utterly spent she was, and a -sharp twinge of remorse seized me. “I strode -along without considering you!”</p> - -<p>“You paid me the compliment of thinking me -not entirely a weakling,” she corrected, and smiled -wearily.</p> - -<p>“You turn it skilfully,” I said. “At least, I -hope you will discourage any more such compliments.”</p> - -<p>“Very well,” she agreed; “I promise. But we -must be getting on;” and she attempted to rise.</p> - -<p>I caught her arm and held her in her seat.</p> - -<p>“We must be doing no such thing!” I retorted. -“It is worse than foolish to plunge ahead as we -have been doing, half-starved. You are going to -remain here and rest. I will make you a bed of -grass and leaves in this little hollow, and you will -lie here quietly and gaze at the stars, thinking -of me as kindly as you can, while I go in search -of food. I shall not be long away, and you will -be quite safe.”</p> - -<p>She sat without answering, watching me while -I piled such dry grass as I could find into the little -hollow. At last it was ready.</p> - -<p>“Now,” I said, turning to her, “if you will rest -here——”</p> - -<p>“You are very good to me,” she breathed, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span> -took her place upon the couch I had provided, -which, I fear, was none too soft.</p> - -<p>“Oh, no,” I answered, controlling myself with -a mighty effort as I bent above her and assured -myself that her cloak was snug about her; “I am -not wholly unselfish. I must keep you fresh; I -must not permit you to exhaust yourself, or you -will be getting ill, and then what should I do?”</p> - -<p>“No, I shall not be ill,” she said quite positively. -“I am not such a weakling as that!”</p> - -<p>“Besides,” I added, “I am frightfully hungry; -I must have something to eat, if I commit murder -for it.”</p> - -<p>“You will not expose yourself?” she asked -quickly.</p> - -<p>“No; there is no danger,” I assured her.</p> - -<p>“I shall pray for you,” she added calmly. -“And I fear there is one thing I must ask of -you.”</p> - -<p>“Ask it,” I said.</p> - -<p>“Before I left my room at the château,” she continued, -“I chose the heaviest shoes I had——”</p> - -<p>There was no need that she should say more. -I bent and touched one of the little feet just peeping -from beneath the cloak. However heavy the -shoes had been, they were certainly far too light -for the rough service which had been exacted of -them. They were almost in tatters, and I could -guess how the sharp stones which had torn the -leather had bruised the tender flesh within. Yet -she had followed me without a sigh, without a -murmur! Impulsively I bent and kissed the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span> -instep of the little shoe, then rose unsteadily to -my feet.</p> - -<p>“I will get you another pair,” I said; “and if -I am to have any peace of mind, you must not -again permit me to forget your welfare, as I have -been doing. With the best intentions in the world, -I am only a selfish and obtuse fellow, with a brain -not bright enough to think of more than one thing -at a time.”</p> - -<p>“I saw how your thoughts were occupied,” she -protested. “I knew that our safety depended -upon you, and I did not wish to disturb you.”</p> - -<p>“To disturb me?” I echoed. “Ah, for once, -mademoiselle, you were not really kind; for by -keeping silent you have done more than that—you -have made me suffer. But there!—I am wasting -time, and I can guess your hunger by my own. -I will go. You are not afraid?”</p> - -<p>“No,” she murmured; “and yet I hope that -you will not be long.”</p> - -<p>“No,” I said; “no;” and not daring to trust -myself further, I turned and strode away through -the darkness.</p> - -<p>Only the biting need for prompt and well-directed -action enabled me to master the sweet -emotion which those words, so softly uttered, had -awakened. But I managed to crush it down, to -put it behind me, and to address myself wholly to -the task in hand. I must get food at once, and at -any price. But food in such a wilderness!</p> - -<p>Yet fortune favored me,—or perhaps the country -was not such a wilderness as I imagined,—for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span> -at the end of ten minutes’ brisk walking I collided -with a hedge, and too rejoiced at the discovery -to heed the scratches I had sustained, I felt my -way along it and came at last to a gate. It was -not even latched, so I pushed it open and passed -through. Once on the other side of it, I found -myself in what seemed an orchard.</p> - -<p>Arguing that where there was a hedge, a gate, -and an orchard, there must also be a house, I -pushed forward among the trees and came out at -last into the clear air beyond. At the first glance -I perceived a light just ahead of me, and made my -way toward it with a deep thankfulness readily -imagined. As I drew nearer I saw that the light -proceeded from the window of a small house -which I was evidently approaching from the rear. -I advanced cautiously and looked within. Three -men were sitting about a table on which was a -bottle of wine and the remains of a meal. They -were talking together with great earnestness.</p> - -<p>There was no time for hesitation or the weighing -of risks, so I waited to see no more, but -hastened around the house. It fronted upon a -road which seemed wide and well kept—undoubtedly -a high-road, and not a mere country lane. A -creaking sign proclaimed the place an inn. I -raised the latch and entered, and without pausing -to look about me sat down at the nearest table -and rapped loudly. One of the three men whom I -had observed through the window arose and came -to me.</p> - -<p>“You are the inn-keeper?” I asked.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span>“Yes,” he answered gruffly, his brows drawn -close with annoyance, not in the least in the -manner of a man welcoming a customer.</p> - -<p>“Well, citizen,” I continued, “I am in great -haste—I am on an errand of importance; I must -be off at once. Can I have some food to take with -me—a fowl, say, and whatever else is at hand; -together with two bottles of wine?”</p> - -<p>“All that may no doubt be had, citizen,” he -answered, relaxing nothing of his sinister expression. -“But there are certain difficulties in the -way.”</p> - -<p>“Money you mean?” and I laughed and threw -two silver crowns upon the table. “Well, there -it is, and you cannot quarrel with it. I don’t offer -you assignats, mind you—and one doesn’t often -hear the ring of honest coin nowadays.”</p> - -<p>“That is true,” he admitted; and his face relaxed -a little as he eyed the money. “But there -is yet another difficulty.”</p> - -<p>“And what is it?” I demanded.</p> - -<p>“The other difficulty,” he answered, watching -me keenly, “is that in giving you these provisions -I may be succoring an enemy of the Nation.”</p> - -<p>I threw myself back in my chair and burst into -a roar of laughter. Looking back upon it, there -is no moment of my life of which I am more -proud than I am of that one.</p> - -<p>“An enemy of the Nation!” I repeated, and -then fell suddenly silent and affected to study him. -“But how am I to know,” I asked at last, “that -that description may not really be deserved by<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span> -you? How am I to know that it is not some -villainy against the Nation which you are plotting -at that table yonder?”</p> - -<p>He started, turned red, shifted under my gaze, -and I saw that I had won.</p> - -<p>“I swear to you, citizen,” he began; but I cut -him short.</p> - -<p>“And I also swear to you,” I retorted, “that I -am on the Nation’s business, which brooks no -delay. If you are a friend of the Nation, give -me food; if you are its enemy, refuse it. The -Nation knows how to punish, and its hand is -heavy. Shall I write your name in my little book, -and after it the word ‘suspect’? Come, prove -yourself a good citizen, and at the same time get -these pieces of silver for your pocket.”</p> - -<p>He hesitated yet a moment, going from one foot -to the other in perplexity; but the silver, or my -arguments, or perhaps both together, carried the -day.</p> - -<p>“You shall have it,” he said, and went to the -farther end of the room, where he opened a cupboard -which was at the same time larder and -wine-cellar. From it he produced two bottles, a -fowl already roasted, and a loaf of bread. As -he passed his two companions I fancied that a -glance of understanding passed between them. A -moment later they pushed back their chairs, bade -him a noisy good-night, and left the room.</p> - -<p>“How will this do?” asked my host, placing -the bottles, the loaf and the fowl on the table -before me, his vexation quite vanished.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span>“Excellently,” I answered, noting with surprise -that the fowl had really some flesh upon its bones. -“One thing more: this road, I suppose, leads -to——”</p> - -<p>“Loudun,” he said.</p> - -<p>“And from there to Thouars?”</p> - -<p>“Undoubtedly.”</p> - -<p>“I am on the right track, then,” I said, simulating -a sigh of relief. “That is all,” I added; -for I saw it was useless, as well as dangerous, to -ask for shoes. “The silver is yours;” and while -he tested it with his teeth, I placed a bottle in either -pocket, and with the loaf under my arm, and the -fowl in my hand, opened the door and stepped out -into the night.</p> - -<p>I had my pistol ready, and looked sharply to -right and left, but saw no one. Then, taking care -to walk in the middle of the road, I pushed forward -at a good pace until I was well away from -the inn. I glanced around from time to time, but -saw no sign that I was followed nor heard any -sound of pursuing footsteps. So telling myself -at last that my fears were groundless, I leaped the -ditch at the side of the road and retraced my steps, -until I came again to the hedge back of the inn. -From this I had but to follow the course of the -brook, here the merest thread of water, and at the -end of ten minutes I was back again at my starting-point. -I stopped and bent over the hollow, -when a soft hand rose and touched my cheek.</p> - -<p>“Is it you, M. de Tavernay?” asked a voice.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span> -“Oh, but I am glad! I was beginning to fear for -you. What is that in your hand?”</p> - -<p>“It is food,” I answered, sitting down beside -her and laughing with sheer joy. I drew my knife -and severed loaf and fowl alike into two equal portions; -then with the point of it drew the corks and -placed the bottles carefully in a hollow of the -grass, propping them upright with some little -stones. “There!” I said, “the meal is served. -I think we may dispense with grace, as we must -with knives and forks.”</p> - -<p>She laughed delightedly as she took the portions -I placed in her hands.</p> - -<p>“You are a wizard, M. de Tavernay,” she said. -“I had expected at most a crust of bread, and you -provide a feast.”</p> - -<p>“A feast is of value,” I pointed out, “only -when it is in one’s stomach.”</p> - -<p>“Well, this shall soon be in mine,” she retorted. -“Never in my life have I had such an appetite;” -and she attacked the food with a vigor which it -did me good to see.</p> - -<p>Nor was I behind her. Never before or since -have I tasted a fowl so tender, bread so sweet, -wine so satisfying. It was almost worth the -privations we had undergone—it was nature’s -compensation for that suffering. And our first -hunger past, we took time to pause and chat a -little. She had regained all her old spirit, and -I am sure that for her, as for me, there was something -fascinating and even dangerous in that -moment. We forgot past sorrow and future peril;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span> -we forgot our present situation and the trials we -must still encounter. The moon was rising again -over the hills to the east, and revealed, just as it -had done the night before, all the subtle delicacy of -her beauty. What she was thinking of I know -not, but my own thoughts flew back irresistibly -to that hour in the garden—that sweet, swift-winged -hour!</p> - -<p>“But was it only last night?” I murmured, not -realizing that I spoke aloud until the words were -uttered.</p> - -<p>“Indeed, it seems an age away!” she assented -absently; and a sudden burst of joy glowed within -me.</p> - -<p>“So you were thinking of it, too!” I cried, and -tried to catch her hand.</p> - -<p>“Thinking of what?” she asked, drawing away -from me.</p> - -<p>“Of the garden—of the few precious moments -we passed together there,” I answered eagerly, my -eyes on hers.</p> - -<p>“On the contrary,” she answered coolly, though -I could have sworn she blushed, “I was thinking -only that last night I was safe with my friends at -the château——”</p> - -<p>“Oh!” I said, not waiting to hear more; and I -sank back into my seat with a gesture of -impatience.</p> - -<p>“Though if you had not interrupted my -thoughts,” she continued, smiling slyly, “I should -doubtless in time have come to the garden scene.”</p> - -<p>“In time!” I repeated bitterly. “Of all the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span> -hours of my life, that one is ever present with me. -It eclipses all the rest.”</p> - -<p>“It will fade!” she assured me lightly. “It -will fade! As for me, I do not dwell upon it, -because I must be careful.”</p> - -<p>“Careful?”</p> - -<p>“Certainly. Careful not to permit myself to -think too tenderly of a man already betrothed. -That would be the height of folly. Suppose I -should begin to love him!”</p> - -<p>“I see you are armed against me,” I said dismally, -“and that the poniard of your wit is as -sharp as ever.”</p> - -<p>“It is the instinctive weapon of our sex,” -she explained. “We draw it whenever we scent -danger. Once it fails us we are lost.”</p> - -<p>“It failed you for a time last night, thank -God!” I retorted. “I have that to remember;” -and I recalled the sweet face raised to mine, the -yielding form——</p> - -<p>“Ungenerous!” she cried. “I did not think -it of you, M. de Tavernay! Darkness and stress -of storm drive a bird to take refuge in your -bosom, and at daybreak you wring its neck!”</p> - -<p>“No,” I said, with a sudden revulsion of feeling, -“I release it; I toss it back into the air; it -flies away without a thought of me, glad only to -escape; but I—I remember it, and love it, and I -thank heaven for the chance which drove it to -me.”</p> - -<p>Impulsively she reached out her hand and -touched my own.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span>“That is more like yourself,” she said. “Now -I know you again. And perhaps, my friend, the -bird is not so ungrateful as you think.”</p> - -<p>“It may even return to the bosom which sheltered -it?” I asked softly, leaning forward. “You -think that, mademoiselle?”</p> - -<p>“I fancy it would fear to do so.”</p> - -<p>“Fear?” I repeated. “Surely—that least of -all!”</p> - -<p>“Fear that it might not find the bosom empty,” -she explained remorselessly; and I saw the old -light in her eyes. “Fear that it might blunder -upon another occupant with a better right——”</p> - -<p>I drew away from her, wounded, stung.</p> - -<p>“But whether it returns or not,” she added in -a gentler tone, “I am sure it will never forget.”</p> - -<p>And with that comfort, cold as it was, I was -forced to be content.</p> - -<p>“Come,” I said, a sudden impatience of the -place seizing me, “we must be getting forward. -The moon will light our way.” And then my heart -fell suddenly; for I remembered her torn and -ragged shoes. “I could not get you shoes,” I -said.</p> - -<p>“No one can accomplish the impossible. It was -foolish of me to ask for them.”</p> - -<p>“I <i>will</i> get them,” I said; “but until then I -shall have to carry you.”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense!” she protested. “You will do -nothing of the kind. With that light in the sky I -can choose my steps. Besides, my shoes are -stronger than you imagine.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span>“The road is not far off,” I said. “Once we -have gained that, you may perhaps be able to walk -alone. But I shall not permit you to torture yourself -by limping over this rough ground.”</p> - -<p>She was looking at me with defiance in her eyes, -and I saw that I should have to use <i>finesse</i>.</p> - -<p>“Please do not forget,” I reminded her, “the -selfishness of my disposition. One step upon a -sharp stone and you will be so lamed that I shall -have to carry you, not a matter of a few hundred -yards, but all the way to the Bocage. My back -aches at thought of it; and so I propose for myself -the lighter task, in order to escape the other.”</p> - -<p>Her look changed from defiance to amusement.</p> - -<p>“You have a wit truly ingenious, M. de Tavernay,” -she said. “I yield to it—for the moment.”</p> - -<p>“I knew that reason would convince you,” I -replied, trembling at the thought that I should have -her in my arms again. “Come, there is still a -little wine in the bottles. I propose a toast—the -toast we drank last night;” and I arose and -bared my head. “God and the King!”</p> - -<p>But that toast was never to be drunk; for even -as I raised the bottle, it was dashed from my lips, -and two men hurled themselves upon me out of the -darkness.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XX.<br /> - -<span class="small">A DAGGER OF ANOTHER SORT.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">For</span> an instant I did not resist, so sudden and -unlooked-for was the attack; then, as I felt a -merciless hand gripping my throat, I struck savagely -at a face I could dimly see just in front of -my own. A burst of blood flooded down over it, -changing it into a hideous mask; but again I felt -those fingers of steel about my neck—fingers -which tightened and tightened, tear at them as I -might. In a mad frenzy of rage and agony, I -struck again and again at the face before me, until -my tongue swelled in my mouth and the heavens -danced red before my eyes. This was the end, -then! I was to be murdered here by these tavern -vagabonds. That vengeance I had sworn was -never to be accomplished; and Charlotte—Charlotte——</p> - -<p>The pang which struck through me was not one -of physical suffering alone; indeed, for an instant -I ceased to feel those savage fingers. Ah, I could -die—that were nothing! But to leave her! Had -God abandoned us? Where was His justice? -Where was His mercy? Again I tore at those -fingers, desperately, madly. I felt the blood spurt -from my nostrils, the heavens reeled before me, -a black moon in a sky of living flame....</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span>What magic was it drew that breath of air into -my lungs?—life-giving air, which sent the heart -bounding and the pulse leaping in answer! A -second!—a third! I was dimly conscious of a -knife gleaming in the air. I struck again. The -face vanished from before me. But the fingers!—the -fingers!—they were buried in my flesh!—they -were crushing my life out! I raised a hand to my -throat. The fingers were not there! And again -the sky turned red, and a black moon hung low in -it—a moon which grew and grew, until it swallowed -the heavens and the earth....</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I was lying upon a vast bed of seaweed, which -rose and fell with the waves of the ocean. Oh, the -peace of it! the bliss of it,—save that from time -to time a single strand coiled about my throat like -a living thing, and would have choked me had I -not torn it off. The wish came to me that I might -lie there forever, rocked in that mammoth cradle, -lulled by the murmur of waters never ceasing. -Then, afar off across the undulating plain, I saw -a figure speeding toward me, and knew it was -my love. At last she reached me, bent above me, -looked into my face, flung herself upon me, calling -my name and pressing warm kisses on my lips—kisses -which I could not return, struggle as I -might, for my lips seemed frozen into stone.</p> - -<p>I tried to throw my arms about her, but some -mighty weight held them at my side. I tried to -call her name, but my voice died in my throat. -Then I knew that I was dead, and a great sadness<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span> -fell upon me. She would never know that I felt -her kisses, that I heard her voice. She would -never know how I loved her! The thought stung -me to fury. She must know! she should know! -For her I would burst the bonds of death itself! -I fought against them desperately, desperately, -every muscle strained to breaking....</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I opened my eyes to see a face bending over -me—the face of my dream. Very near she sat,—so -near that I could feel the sweet warmth of her -body,—and she was bathing my face and neck -with the cool water from the brook. How good -it felt—like the hand of God Himself! I saw that -she had filled a bottle with it, and guessing the -wish I had not strength to utter, she held it to my -lips, and gave me a long draught.</p> - -<p>It sent new life through me. The pain of -swallowing was as nothing to the delight it gave -me. I lay still a moment looking up at her; then -I sat erect unsteadily.</p> - -<p>“What is it?” I asked hoarsely. “What has -happened to me?”</p> - -<p>“Then you are not dead!” she cried. “Then -you are going to live! Oh, thank God!”</p> - -<p>“Dead!” I repeated in amazement. “No—nor -like to be!”</p> - -<p>Then my eyes fell upon an object at my feet, -and in a flash I remembered. I sat for a moment -looking down at that huddled shape, touched here -and there into hideous distinctness by the rays of -the moon.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span>“But even yet I do not understand,” I said at -last. “What killed him? A bolt from heaven? -God saves me for my vengeance then!”</p> - -<p>She did not answer, only huddled her head into -her arms and swayed forward, shaken by a convulsive -shuddering.</p> - -<p>I leaned down and looked at the body. Was it -blasted, shrivelled as in a furnace? Had I really -been saved by God’s intervention? And how else, -I asked myself; what less than a miracle could -have saved me?</p> - -<p>The body was lying on its face, and as I stared -down at it, I fancied I saw something protruding -from the back. I touched it—it was the handle of -a knife. I drew it forth, not without some effort, -and recognized the knife as mine—Pasdeloup’s—the -knife I had used to cut the bread—the knife -I had left lying in the hollow beside the bottles. -Then I understood.</p> - -<p>“You!” I cried, staring at the bowed figure. -“You!”</p> - -<p>She did not answer, only sat and shivered, her -head in her arms.</p> - -<p>“You!” I said again. “It was you who saved -me?”</p> - -<p>She raised her head and looked at me.</p> - -<p>“I saw—that—he—was choking—you,” she -gasped. “God—guided my hand—to the knife;” -and she held it up and looked at it with a kind of -horror.</p> - -<p>I caught the hand and drew it to my lips.</p> - -<p>“Mademoiselle,” I said hoarsely, “I loved you<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span> -before—I reverence you now. But where is the -other? I thought there were two of them.”</p> - -<p>“There were,” she answered. “The other -tried to stab you, but you struck him and he fled.”</p> - -<p>I started up in alarm.</p> - -<p>“Then must we flee too, and instantly,” I cried. -“He will return and bring others with him. -Come;” and I raised her to her feet.</p> - -<p>“But are you strong enough?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“Strong enough? I am strong as Hercules! -Why should I not be since joy gives strength? -Come.”</p> - -<p>Then I remembered her ragged shoes. What -hope of escape was there when our flight must be -at a snail’s pace?</p> - -<p>“Come,” I repeated; and held out my arms.</p> - -<p>“What do you mean?” she demanded, looking -at me darkly.</p> - -<p>“I am to carry you, you know, until we reach -the road. That is already settled, so we need not -waste time arguing it over again.”</p> - -<p>“Indeed!” she retorted. “But that was under -different circumstances. Besides, we are not going -toward the road, are we?”</p> - -<p>“No,” I admitted; “we are going straight up -this hill.”</p> - -<p>“Very well,” she said, “then our agreement -is at an end, and I refuse to reconsider. It is you -who are wasting time.”</p> - -<p>I saw she was immovable, and a mad impulse -seized me to snatch her up despite her protests; to -overpower her resistance....</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span>Then my glance fell upon the body. In an -instant I had dropped beside it and was pulling -the rude, strong shoes from its feet.</p> - -<p>“What are you doing?” she gasped, staring -down at me.</p> - -<p>“Sit here beside me,” I commanded, my heart -beating triumphantly; and as she obeyed, still -staring, I pulled off my own shoes and slipped -them over hers. Worn in that way, they fitted -as well as could be desired; they would at least -protect her from the roughness of the road until -better ones could be found. Then I stuffed the -dead man’s shoes with grass until they fitted my -own feet snugly.</p> - -<p>“Now,” I said, “we are ready to be off;” and -I sprang to my feet and drew her after me.</p> - -<p>“You are a most ingenious man, M. de Tavernay,” -she commented. “I am ready;” and she -followed me up the hill and through a thicket of -underbrush which crowned its summit.</p> - -<p>Not a moment too soon; for as we paused to look -back before starting downward, we saw a score -of torches advancing up the valley toward the -spot which we had left. Evidently there was to -be no chance of failure this time.</p> - -<p>“Come,” I said, and caught her hand.</p> - -<p>The slope was free from underbrush and fairly -smooth.</p> - -<p>“A race!” she cried, her eyes dancing; and a -moment later we arrived breathless at the bottom.</p> - -<p>Here there was a wall of stone. We rested a -moment on top of it, then I helped her down into<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span> -the narrow, rutted road beyond. It ran, as nearly -as I could judge, east and west, and turning our -faces westward, we hurried along it, anxious to -put all chance of capture far behind.</p> - -<p>The night was sweet and clear and my heart -sang with the very joy of living. I felt strong, -vigorous, ready to face any emergency. My -recent encounter had left no souvenir more serious -than a tender throat, and as I thought of it I -wondered again at the resolution which had nerved -that soft and delicate arm to drive the blade home -in the back of my assailant. She, too, had proved -herself able to meet a crisis bravely, and to rise to -whatever heroism it demanded.</p> - -<p>Ah, if she only loved me! I might yet find some -way to evade with honor the unwelcome match -my father had arranged for me. But she did not; -so there was an end of that. I must go on to -the end, even as I had promised. But it was a -bitter thing!</p> - -<p>“Why that profound sigh, M. de Tavernay?” -asked my comrade, looking up at me with dancing -eyes, quite in her old manner. “Surely we are -in no present danger?”</p> - -<p>“I was thinking not of the present but of the -future,” I answered.</p> - -<p>“You think, then, that danger lies before us?”</p> - -<p>“Undoubtedly!”</p> - -<p>“But why cross the bridge till we come to it?”</p> - -<p>“Because,” I answered, “since the bridge must -be crossed it is as well to do it now as any time.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span>“But perhaps it may be avoided—one can never -tell.”</p> - -<p>“No,” I said gloomily, “it is a destiny not to -be escaped.”</p> - -<p>“You frighten me!” she cried; but when I -glanced at her she looked anything but frightened. -“What is it that awaits us? Let me know the -worst!”</p> - -<p>“It was of myself I was speaking,” I explained.</p> - -<p>“Another instance of your selfishness! Are -you going to face the enemy and bid me run -away? Depend upon it, I shall think twice before -obeying.”</p> - -<p>“This is an enemy which you will never be -called upon to face, mademoiselle. I was thinking -of that moment,—a moment not far distant,—when -I have placed you in the hands of your -friends and must bid you adieu.”</p> - -<p>“To turn your face southward toward Poitiers? -Inconstant man! I did not think you so -eager!”</p> - -<p>“No, mademoiselle; I turn back to Dange, as -you know, on an errand of vengeance, and -then——”</p> - -<p>“To Poitiers on an errand of love. To the -hero his reward!”</p> - -<p>“Say rather on an errand of duty,” I corrected.</p> - -<p>“It will become an errand of love also, once -you have seen the lady—what is her name?”</p> - -<p>“No matter,” I said shortly, and strode on in -silence.</p> - -<p>“M. de Tavernay,” she said in a provoking<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span> -voice, keeping pace with me, “I should like to -make you a wager.”</p> - -<p>“What is it?” I asked, none too gently.</p> - -<p>“That my prediction will come true,” she -answered, laughing. “That you will fall madly -in love with this lady—oh, desperately in love with -her! and once you have safely married her will -remember this youthful passion only with a smile. -Come; the stake shall be anything you like.”</p> - -<p>This time I was thoroughly angry. Even if -she did not love me she had no right to wound me, -to stab me deliberately, maliciously, with a smile -on her lips. She had no right to draw amusement -from my sufferings, to torture me just for the -pleasure of watching my agony. So I quickened -my pace and strode on in silence, my hands -clinched, trying to stifle the pain at my heart.</p> - -<p>A touch on my arm aroused me.</p> - -<p>“<i>Ciel!</i>” gasped a voice; and I turned to see my -companion still at my side indeed, but spent and -breathless. “Did you fancy these shoes of yours -were seven-league boots?” she questioned when -she could speak. “Or did you desire to abandon -me out here in this wilderness?”</p> - -<p>“It would be no more than you deserve!” I -retorted; then, as I remembered how fast I had -been walking and pictured her uncomplaining -struggle to keep pace with me, I relented. “Pardon -me,” I said, humbly; “I am a brute. Come; -sit here in the shadow of this tree and rest. We -are beyond danger of pursuit—besides, no one -can see us here.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span>She permitted me to lead her to the shadow and -sat down. I leaned against the tree and stared -moodily along the road.</p> - -<p>“What is it, monsieur?” she asked at last. -“Still brooding on the future?”</p> - -<p>“No, mademoiselle,” I answered; “since it -must be endured I shall waste no more thought -upon it.”</p> - -<p>“That is wise,” she commended. “That is -what I have advised from the first. Besides, you -should remember it is when troubles are approaching -that they appear most terrible.”</p> - -<p>“A thousand thanks,” I said dryly. “You are -no doubt right.”</p> - -<p>“And then,” she added, “one grows morbid -when one thinks too much of oneself.”</p> - -<p>“It was not wholly with myself I was occupied -this time,” I said; “or at least with myself -only in relation to you. I was thinking how unfit -I am to take care of you; how little I merit the -trust which M. le Comte reposed in me when he -gave you into my keeping. I permit you to limp -along behind me with bruised and wounded feet -until you sink exhausted; I lead two scoundrels, -whose pursuit I had foreseen, straight to your -hiding-place and would have perished but for -your courage and address; I stride along at top -speed until you are ready to die of fatigue; I show -myself a fool, a boor, and yet expect you to feel -some kindness for me. Hereafter you will command -this expedition; I am merely your servant; -I am at your orders.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[228]</span>“Very well,” she responded instantly, “I -accept. My first order is that you sit here -beside me;” and she patted the spot with her -hand.</p> - -<p>“A soldier does not sit in the presence of his -commander,” I protested.</p> - -<p>“What! Rebellion already!” she cried. “A -fine beginning, truly!”</p> - -<p>I sat down, a little giddy at this unexpected -kindness.</p> - -<p>“And now,” she continued severely, “you -will repeat after me the following words: Mademoiselle -de Chambray——”</p> - -<p>“Mademoiselle de Chambray——”</p> - -<p>“I know you are only a silly girl——”</p> - -<p>“I know nothing of the sort,” I protested.</p> - -<p>“Will you obey my orders, M. de Tavernay, -or will you not?” she inquired sternly.</p> - -<p>“No one can be compelled to perjure himself,” -I answered doggedly.</p> - -<p>“Nor shall I compel you to do so. We will -continue then: I know you are only a silly girl, -yet even a silly girl should hesitate to do a friend -malicious injury. Nevertheless I will forgive you, -for I see how you yourself regret it and I am too -generous to strike back, even though you deserve -it.”</p> - -<p>I looked down at her and saw that there were -indeed tears in the eyes which she turned up to me.</p> - -<p>She held out her hand with a little tremulous -smile.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[229]</span>“Will you not forgive me, my friend?” she -asked.</p> - -<p>I seized the hand and covered it with kisses.</p> - -<p>“I adore you!” I cried. “Adore you!—adore -you!”</p> - -<p>And I would have asked nothing better, nothing -sweeter, than to die there at her feet, with her -warm hand in mine and her eyes enfolding me in -a lambent flame which raised me to a height that -kings might envy.</p> - -<p>For in that instant I knew that she loved me.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[230]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXI.<br /> - -<span class="small">FALSE PRETENSES.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">But</span> only for the merest breath did she permit -her soul to stand unveiled before me. Then she -drew her hand away and fenced herself again with -that invulnerable armor.</p> - -<p>“Come, my friend,” she said, and her voice -sounded a trifle unsteady in my ears, “we must -be going on—we have a long journey still before -us.”</p> - -<p>I arose like a drunken man. I dared not believe -what that glimpse of glory had revealed to me; -it seemed too wonderful, too stupendous to be -true. I had looked into her soul and seen love -there—but was it really there? Or was it merely -the reflection of what my own soul disclosed?</p> - -<p>I glanced down at her, but she was staring -straight before her as she walked steadily forward -with a face so cold and impassive that the doubt -grew, enwrapped me, darkened to conviction. It -was folly to suppose that her eyes had really -revealed their secret; it was absurd to believe that -such a secret lay behind them. Who was I that I -should hope to waken love in the breast of such -a woman as this? Pity, perhaps—sympathy, -friendship, kindness—anything but the deep, -splendid passion I hungered for. She had been -moved for the moment, but plainly she already<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span> -regretted her emotion. Well, I certainly would -never remind her of it.</p> - -<p>So we went on through the night, taking at -every forking of the road the way which led nearest -the west, for in the west lay safety. But I -knew we had ten leagues and more to cover ere -we should reach the Bocage, and the nearer we -approached our destination the more closely would -danger encompass us. From south and east -troops were being massed to crush out by sheer -weight of numbers the flame of insurrection which -had arisen so suddenly in the very heart of -France. From every town within fifty leagues -the National Guard had been summoned. From -Paris itself levies were hastening—levies of -Septembrists, cut-throats, assassins, asking nothing -better than permission to murder and pillage, and -commanded by a general determined not to fight -but to destroy, not to defeat but to exterminate—in -a word, not to rest until all Vendée had been -made a wilderness, a barren waste. This line of -enemies, marching forward in this temper, we -were forced to pierce in order to reach our friends.</p> - -<p>The moon rose high in the heavens, paused at -the zenith, then started on its course down the -western sky. I thanked the fortune which gave -us her friendly light to guide us, for the road grew -ever more wild and rough. In one place indeed -it was merely the bed of a torrent little different -from that over which we had already toiled so -painfully. So we left it, and breaking our way<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span> -through the hedge which bordered the road, followed -along beside it.</p> - -<p>Even I was beginning to feel fatigued and I -could guess at my companion’s weariness, yet she -refused to listen to my suggestion that we stop -and rest. But dawn was not far distant and we -must find some safe hiding-place for the day. -There were no houses in sight, nor had we seen -any for some time, but where there was a road, -however bad, there must also be people to travel -it; and to seek rest, to resign oneself to sleep, save -in a safe covert, would be the height of folly.</p> - -<p>The country had grown more open and level -with only an occasional tree here and there, and -was evidently used for pasturage, though I saw -no sheep nor cattle; but at last along a ridge at -our right I caught sight of a thicket, and toward -this we made our way. We found it a dense -growth of small saplings and underbrush and -broke our way into it with difficulty; but the event -repaid the labor, for at last we came to a little -glade not over a rod across and carpeted with -grass.</p> - -<p>“Here is our resting-place,” I said, “and our -home for another day.”</p> - -<p>My companion sank down with a sigh of utter -fatigue.</p> - -<p>“I am very tired,” she murmured, and drew off -the shoes which I had slipped over her own.</p> - -<p>“You are to sleep until you are quite rested,” -I added. “We will remain here until evening. -Then, after darkness falls and before the moon<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span> -is up, we shall try to pierce the lines of the Republicans, -which cannot be far away. For that you -must be fresh, for we may need to be fleet.”</p> - -<p>“But you?” she broke in quickly. “You are -going to sleep too?”</p> - -<p>“Undoubtedly,” I answered. “Only first I -wish to assure myself that there is no house too -near us. Good-night, mademoiselle.”</p> - -<p>“Good-night, my friend,” she said, looking up -at me with a little tremulous smile full of sorrow -and weariness.</p> - -<p>I stood a moment gazing down at her, longing -to gather her in my arms, as one would a child, -and caress and comfort her and hold her so until -she fell asleep. But I managed to crush the longing -back and turn away to the task which I had -set myself.</p> - -<p>The thicket crowned a low ridge which stretched -between two gentle valleys. That we had left -was, as I have said, innocent of human habitation. -In the one to the north I fancied I could discern -a group of houses, but they were so far away that -we need apprehend no danger from them. To the -westward, along the ridge, the thicket stretched -as far as I could see.</p> - -<p>Assured that our hiding-place was as safe as -could be hoped for, I made my way back to it and -walked softly to the dark figure on the grass. -She was lying on her side, her head pillowed on -her arm, and as I bent above her to make sure -that she was protected from the chill of the night, -I knew by her regular breathing that she slept.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[234]</span> -That sleep, so peaceful and trusting, consecrated -the little glade—hallowed it, transformed it into -such a temple that I dared lay me down only upon -its margin, as though it were a holy place.</p> - -<p>Long I lay staring up at the heavens, wondering -if I might indeed hope to win this superb creature; -weaving a golden future which we trod arm in arm. -To possess her, to have her always at my side, the -mistress of my home, the mother of my children—the -thought shook me with a delicious trembling. -But at last cold reason snatched me down from -this empyrean height. I told myself I was a fool, -and so turned on my side, closed my eyes resolutely, -and in the end sank to sleep.</p> - -<p>I awoke with the full sun staring me in the -face and sat up with a start to find my companion -smiling at me across the little amphitheatre.</p> - -<p>“Good-morning, monsieur,” she said.</p> - -<p>“Good-morning,” I responded, and rose and -went toward her.</p> - -<p>In some magical way she had removed the -stains of travel; to my eyes she seemed to have -stepped but this moment from her bath. A -sudden loathing of my own foul and hideous clothing -came over me. How, in that guise, could she -regard me with anything but disgust?</p> - -<p>“Mademoiselle,” I said, “I am ashamed to -stand here before you in this clear light, for you -are sweet and fresh as the morning, while I——”</p> - -<p>“Choose the harder part,” she interrupted, “in -order to serve me better.”</p> - -<p>“But to be hideous——”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[235]</span>“Oh, I do not look at the clothes,” she said; -“and as for the face——”</p> - -<p>“Well,” I prompted, “as for the face——”</p> - -<p>She stole a glance at me.</p> - -<p>“As for the face,” she continued, “you will -remember that I bathed it last night, monsieur, -while I was attempting to revive you, and so it is -nearly as attractive as nature made it.”</p> - -<p>“A poor consolation,” I retorted.</p> - -<p>“Well,” she said, looking at it critically, “I -confess I have seen handsomer ones.”</p> - -<p>“Yes?” I encouraged, as she hesitated.</p> - -<p>“But never one I liked better,” she added, a -heavenly shyness in her eyes.</p> - -<p>“Mademoiselle,” I said, suddenly taking my -courage in my hands, “last night while I was -unconscious I dreamed such a beautiful dream. -I wonder if it was true?”</p> - -<p>She glanced again at me hastily and her cheeks -were very red.</p> - -<p>“Dreams are never true,” she said decidedly. -“They go by contraries. You will have to -bedaub your face a little before you venture forth -again.”</p> - -<p>“But the dream,” I insisted, refusing to be -diverted. “Shall I tell you what it was?”</p> - -<p>“I have never been interested in dreams,” she -responded calmly, and brushed from her skirt an -imperceptible speck of dust.</p> - -<p>“But perhaps this one——”</p> - -<p>“Not even this one, I am sure. How long are -we to remain here, M. de Tavernay?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span>I surrendered in despair before the coldness of -her glance.</p> - -<p>“You are to remain till evening,” I replied. -“But I must go at once. My first task will be -to get some food. Hunger is an enemy which -always returns to the attack no matter how often -it is overcome.”</p> - -<p>“And so is a foe to be respected and appeased -rather than despised,” she added smiling; “I came -across some such observation in a book I was -reading not long ago. It had a most amusing old -man in it called The Partridge,<a id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> who was always -hungry.”</p> - -<p>“I can sympathize with him,” I said. “My -own stomach feels particularly empty at this -moment; I must find something to fill it—and -yours, too.”</p> - -<p>“But I fear for you,” she protested. “I wish -you would not go. I am sure we can get through -the day without starving. I should prefer to try, -rather than that you should again run such risks -as you did last night.”</p> - -<p>“Those risks were purely the result of my own -folly,” I pointed out. “I shall not be such a fool -a second time. There is a village down yonder -and I shall breakfast at the inn like any other -traveller. It was my haste last night which -aroused suspicion. Besides,” I added, “I doubt<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span> -if any one could follow even me by daylight without -my perceiving it. You may have to wait an -hour——”</p> - -<p>“It will not be hunger which distresses me,” -she interrupted earnestly, “but fear for your -safety. Let us do without the food.”</p> - -<p>“It is true we shouldn’t starve,” I admitted, -“but for to-night we must be strong, ready for -anything. A fast is bad preparation for the kind -of work we have before us. Besides, I must find -where we are, how the Republican forces are disposed, -and the nearest point at which we may find -friends. We must guard against the possibility -of blundering haphazard into some trap and so -failing at the last moment.”</p> - -<p>“You are right, of course,” she agreed instantly, -though her face was very pale. “I will wait for -you here, and pray for you.”</p> - -<p>She gave me her hand and I bent and kissed it -with trembling lips.</p> - -<p>“There will be no danger,” I assured her again, -waved my hand to her and plunged into the thicket.</p> - -<p>I made my way through it for some distance -before venturing into the open; then, under shelter -of a hedge, I hastened down the slope, gained the -road and turned my face toward the village. Ten -minutes brought me to it—a straggle of sordid -houses along each side the road teeming with dirty -children and with a slatternly woman leaning in -every doorway. There was an inn at either end -to catch the traveller going east or west and I -entered the first I came to and asked for breakfast.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[238]</span> -It was served by a pert and not uncomely maid,—bacon, -eggs and creamy biscuits,—and I fell to -it with an appetite tempered only by the thought -that I must eat alone. There was at the time no -other guest, and as the maid seemed very willing -to talk, I determined to turn her to account.</p> - -<p>“These are delicious biscuits,” I began. “I -have tasted none so good since I started on this -journey.”</p> - -<p>She dropped me a curtesy, flushing with -pleasure.</p> - -<p>“Have you come a long journey, monsieur?” -she asked.</p> - -<p>“What!” I cried. “You still say ‘monsieur’! -Is it a royalist then with whom I have to deal,—a -<i>ci-devant</i>,—an aristocrat?”</p> - -<p>“A royalist?” she repeated, visibly horrified. -“Oh, no; but the habit is an old one.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” I admitted, “old habits are hard to -break; even my tongue slips sometimes.”</p> - -<p>“Besides,” she added, looking at me steadily, -“there was about you something which made me -hesitate to call you citizen.”</p> - -<p>It was my time to flush. I found myself unable -to meet her clear eyes and covered my confusion -clumsily by a laugh which even I perceived did -not ring true. If my disguise was so easily penetrated -it was time I was getting back to my hiding-place.</p> - -<p>“Nonsense!” I retorted. “It is proper to say -citizen to any one. And, by the way, citizen, what -is the name of this village?”</p> - -<p>“What, you don’t know!” she cried.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[239]</span>“Is that wonderful? It hardly seemed to me a -second Paris.”</p> - -<p>“Yet you come to it!”</p> - -<p>“I pass through it because it happens to be in -my way; I stop for breakfast—I would wish to -stop longer,” I added with an expressive glance, -“but the Nation needs me.”</p> - -<p>“Needs you?”</p> - -<p>“As she needs every man she can get to stamp -out those cursed rebels in Vendée.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, so it is there you go?” she said, her face -clearing. “Yes—you are right. My father went -yesterday to join the Blues; our guard marched -last night. There is scarcely a man left in the -village.”</p> - -<p>“And now perhaps you will tell me its name,” -I suggested.</p> - -<p>“It is called Dairon.”</p> - -<p>“And where is the nearest Republican force?”</p> - -<p>“There is a small one at Airvault and another -at Moncontour; but if it is fighting you are looking -for, citizen, you will press on to Thouars.”</p> - -<p>“How far is Thouars?”</p> - -<p>“Four leagues, and this road will lead you -there.”</p> - -<p>“Then it is this road I will take. So there is to -be fighting at Thouars?”</p> - -<p>“Our officers dined here last night,” she explained, -“and I heard them talking. It seems -that the brigands are gathering at Coulonges and -expect to take Thouars. Bah! The Blues will -fall upon them, surround them, exterminate them! -For do you know what it is that they are planning,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span> -those scoundrels? They are planning to hold a -place where that ogre of a Pitt may land his -troops upon the sacred soil of France!”</p> - -<p>Her eyes were blazing. I sprang to my feet.</p> - -<p>“Then I must be off!” I cried. “I can’t afford -to miss that fun. But first, citizen, can you put -me up a lunch for the road—a big one, for I have -the devil of an appetite. Ransack your larder—I -can pay for it;” and I laid a golden louis on the -table. “In the vicinity of an army there is never -anything to eat. I shall no doubt meet plenty of -poor fellows with nothing in their bellies, and -two or three bottles of wine would not be amiss.”</p> - -<p>“Just so,” she nodded, and flew to the kitchen, -where I heard her and another woman talking -vigorously together to the accompaniment of a -clatter of knives and dishes.</p> - -<p>I walked to the door and looked down the village -street. It was still deserted, save for the -women and children. Evidently the men had all -been caught in the dragnet of the Blues, or had -hurried into hiding for fear they would be drafted -to the front. How these poor creatures, left here -to their own resources, managed to exist I could -not imagine.</p> - -<p>“Well, citizen,” asked a voice, “how is this?”</p> - -<p>I turned to find the maid smiling up at me and -in her hand a hamper filled to the brim and covered -with a cloth through which the necks of three -bottles protruded.</p> - -<p>“Excellent!” I cried as I took it. “That will -make me welcome, at any rate. A thousand -thanks, my dear.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span>“There is one more thing I can do for you,” -she said. “Your disguise is a poor one, citizen.”</p> - -<p>“Disguise!” I echoed, my heart in my throat.</p> - -<p>“Because the face does not match the clothes,” -she went on imperturbably. “Any fool could see -that these rags do not belong to you. Sit here a -moment.”</p> - -<p>I sat down obediently, not daring to disobey. -Whereupon she produced a greasy rag and rubbed -it over my face, retiring a step or two from time -to time to admire the effect, and then returning to -add another touch, much in the manner of an -artist engaged upon a masterpiece. At last she -was satisfied.</p> - -<p>“There,” she said, “I defy any one to detect -you now. And remember, as long as you wear -those rags you are not to wash face or hands. -Your business is none of mine, but you are too -pretty a fellow to be permitted to run your head -into a noose.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, my dear!” I said again, and rose -and took up my hamper.</p> - -<p>She came to me and stood on tiptoe.</p> - -<p>“A salute for the Nation, citizen,” she said, and -kissed me on either cheek. “If you return this -way you are to stop here and inquire for Ninette. -She will be glad to see you. Adieu—and may -the good God have you in His keeping.”</p> - -<p>I turned westward along the street, unheeding -the curious glances cast at me, with a conscience -not wholly at peace. I had secured these generous -provisions under false pretenses. I had not merited -those pure kisses.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXII.<br /> - -<span class="small">THE PONIARD AGAIN.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Not</span> until a turn of the road hid me from the -village and I was satisfied that I was unobserved -did I turn aside and, again sheltering myself -behind a friendly hedge, gain the thicket which -stretched along the ridge. Then plunging into -its cover I hastened back with what speed I could -toward the spot where I had left my comrade, -uneasily conscious that I had lingered at the inn -longer than I had thought to do, for the sun told -me that noon had come and gone.</p> - -<p>So it was with an anxiety which increased at -every step that I broke my way through the underbrush, -unheeding the briers which clutched at my -clothes and stung hands and face—an anxiety -which leaped to mortal anguish as I came out suddenly -into the little amphitheatre where I had -left her and saw at a glance that it was empty.</p> - -<p>I set down the hamper with a groan of agony -and wiped the cold sweat from my forehead. -Fool!—idiot that I was to leave her unguarded for -so long a time! Some one had blundered into our -retreat, had discovered her, had taken her prisoner. -This thicket doubtless harbored many scoundrels -seeking to evade the draft. Perhaps even at this -moment——</p> - -<p>“Good-day, M. de Tavernay,” called a gay<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span> -voice; and I turned my head mechanically, to see -her emerging from the thicket, her face alight. -“So you have returned!”</p> - -<p>“Thank God!” I cried. “Thank God! You -are safe, then!”</p> - -<p>“Safe?” she repeated, eyeing me a little curiously. -“But certainly! What did you imagine?”</p> - -<p>“I feared you had been captured,” I answered -hoarsely. “Carried away! No matter, since you -are safe.”</p> - -<p>“I heard some one approaching,” she explained, -still eyeing me, “and decided I would better conceal -myself until I was certain it was you. That -was wise, wasn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“Wise? Oh, yes! But I thought I had lost -you! I had stayed away so long.”</p> - -<p>“And in truth,” she went on, laughing again, -“I am not yet quite certain that it is really you. -What a villainous countenance!”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” I said, flushing. “The—the girl at the -inn fixed it for me.”</p> - -<p>“So!” she cried. “It was a girl that kept -you—and pretty, I’ll be bound! To think that I -have been worrying about you!”</p> - -<p>“You must be nearly starved,” I said, anxious -to change the subject.</p> - -<p>“I confess a lively pleasure at the sight of that -hamper. May I explore it?”</p> - -<p>“At once,” I urged, and sat down a little -weakly, for I was not yet wholly recovered from -the swift reaction from that agony of fear.</p> - -<p>She spread upon the grass the cloth with which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span> -the hamper was covered and uttered little cries of -delight as she drew forth its contents and arranged -them before her.</p> - -<p>“Why, you are a wizard, M. de Tavernay!” -she cried when the hamper was empty. “Here is -a feast fit for a king. That girl must have fallen -desperately in love with you! A real passion! -Poor creature!”</p> - -<p>“I posed as a Republican,” I explained. “She -is a good patriot and anxious to serve the Nation.”</p> - -<p>“Especially when it is personified by a handsome -and gallant fellow,” she amended. “No -matter; I am not jealous. Indeed I have no right -to be. But I wonder what the betrothed would -say? Rest easy; she shall never know, I promise -you that. And now, if you will draw the corks, -we are ready to begin.”</p> - -<p>“I am glad to see you in such spirits,” I remarked -with irony as I got out my knife.</p> - -<p>“It is so much pleasanter than being dull and -gloomy, is it not?” she agreed.</p> - -<p>“You remind me of a red Indian,” I continued -as I drew the corks, “dancing around his captive -and burying a barb in his flesh from time to time -just to see his anguish.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” she retorted, “I am going to treat you -as no red Indian ever treated a captive. Sit down -and share the feast.”</p> - -<p>“But I have already eaten,” I protested. Nevertheless -I sat down in the place she indicated. -“Besides, my fright when I found you gone killed -any return of appetite.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span>“Were you really frightened?”</p> - -<p>“Horribly!”</p> - -<p>“I know what you need—a draught of wine.”</p> - -<p>“If you will drink first,” I agreed.</p> - -<p>She raised a bottle to her lips, then handed it to -me.</p> - -<p>“You were right,” I said, as I put it down. -“That was really what I needed. My heart is -bounding again, though perhaps not wholly from -the wine.”</p> - -<p>She smiled as she looked at me.</p> - -<p>“Whatever the cause, I am glad to see you -more like yourself. And now you will eat—I -detest eating alone.”</p> - -<p>“I will try,” I said; but I confess I found eating -a difficult task with that vision across from -me.</p> - -<p>“Did you learn where we are?” she asked at -last.</p> - -<p>“The village is called Dairon. We are about -four leagues from Thouars, where the Blues are -in force. We must get past them somehow to -Coulonges, a league beyond, where we shall find -friends.”</p> - -<p>“And we must wait until to-night to go forward?”</p> - -<p>“Till twilight, at least.”</p> - -<p>“We should get to Coulonges to-night, then?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” I answered with a sinking heart at the -thought that my dream was to end so soon. “If -all goes well we should reach Coulonges by midnight.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span>“You actually say that in a tone of despondency!”</p> - -<p>“And do you see in it nothing to regret, -mademoiselle?”</p> - -<p>“To regret? Assuredly not! Shall you regret -being in safety?”</p> - -<p>“Danger is not the worst thing that can befall -a man,” I said, “more especially——”</p> - -<p>“Well?” she questioned tantalizingly as I -hesitated.</p> - -<p>I leaned across the cloth and caught her hands -and held them prisoner.</p> - -<p>“More especially when it is shared by the -woman he loves,” I continued, throwing discretion -to the winds. “Ah, then he forgets the danger, -mademoiselle! He remembers only that she is -beside him,—that he may look into her eyes as I -look into yours,—that he may kiss her hands as -I kiss these dear ones. And when he knows that -to restore her to her friends is to sever himself -from her, he may well despond as he sees the hour -approach.”</p> - -<p>She sat looking at me, the color coming and -going in her cheeks, her lips parted, her eyes a -little misty. And she made no effort to take her -hands away. Ah, what a woman she was! The -beauty of her!—the whiteness, the delicacy, the -slim grace!—and with it all, a woman’s passionate -heart, a woman’s power of loving and desire of -being loved! It was there, I knew, waiting to be -awakened, needing only the touch of a certain -hand, the sound of a certain voice.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span>“You really love me!” she murmured. “You -really love me!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, my dearest!” I cried. “Can you doubt -it? Looking into my eyes, can you doubt it? -And last night, looking into yours, I fancied that -you swept aside the veil for a moment, and that I -saw into your heart, your soul, and read a secret -there which made me madly happy! Did I read -aright?”</p> - -<p>“Not to value your devotion would be indeed -ungrateful, monsieur,” she answered in a -whisper——</p> - -<p>“It is not gratitude that I ask,” I broke in. -“It was not gratitude that I saw! Did I read -aright?”</p> - -<p>“Suppose I say yes,” she said; “what is it you -propose?”</p> - -<p>“I propose to take you and keep you,” I -answered madly, drawing her toward me, my -blood on fire. “You do love me!—come, confess -it! Look into my eyes and tell me! I defy the -whole world to take you from me now!”</p> - -<p>She swayed toward me for an instant, her lips -parted, her eyes swimming in a veil of tears. I -had won! I had won! Then she drew her hands -away and sat erect, a convulsive shiver running -through her.</p> - -<p>“And your honor,” she asked, her face suddenly -white—“what of it? The word you have given—what -of it? The vow you have taken—what of -it? And if I did love you—do you not see that -it is the man of honor that I love? Do you think<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[248]</span> -I could keep on loving a dishonored man—even -though that dishonor were incurred for me? Do -you think I could find any place in my heart for -a man unfaithful to such a vow as you have taken? -No, no!—you cannot believe that!—you cannot so -mistake me! I have built a temple for you in my -heart—do not tell me that you are unworthy to -dwell there!”</p> - -<p>I was struck dumb before her. I could find no -word of answer. She was right—a hundred times -right. And by the trembling which shook her I -saw that it was not I alone who suffered.</p> - -<p>“Forgive me!” I groaned. “Forgive me!” -and I flung myself forward at her feet.</p> - -<p>But her arms were about me, and she raised me -up and kissed me on the forehead, and her eyes -were shining, and her face was very pale.</p> - -<p>“Be brave!” she whispered brokenly. “Be -brave, my friend! The future will be brighter -than you think. Oh, you are worthy to occupy -that temple! Oh, I must——”</p> - -<p>A sudden rattle of arms and tramp of feet rose -to us from the valley.</p> - -<p>“What is that?” she asked with bated breath.</p> - -<p>I sprang to my feet, went cautiously to the edge -of the thicket and looked down. A regiment was -marching westward along the road by which we -had come—a regiment dusty and travel-stained, -with tri-colored cockades in their hats and tri-colored -scarfs about their necks. I watched them -until they disappeared around a turn of the road. -Then I rejoined my comrade.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span>“It was a regiment of Blues,” I said; “that is -bad. I had hoped to take that road. Now we -must take the other; but we must keep to the cover -of this thicket until we are past the village. We -would better be starting now while there is light; -then at dusk we can descend to the road and -hasten on to Coulonges.”</p> - -<p>She was replacing the food in the hamper before -I had finished.</p> - -<p>“We may need it,” she said; “you shall not -risk yourself again.”</p> - -<p>She was entirely self-controlled and turned to -me the old, clear, friendly gaze; the emotion which -had shaken her a moment before had been conquered -and swept aside. What was it she had -been about to say? Should I ever know? Should -I ever again get past the barrier of her reserve?</p> - -<p>I watched her as she slipped my shoes over her -own again and fastened them. Then I took up -the hamper and started. At the edge of the little -glade she paused and threw a kiss back to it.</p> - -<p>“Good-by,” she called. “Good-by. You also -have kept us safely. I shall always remember!”</p> - -<p>I dared not look back. I felt that I was forever -leaving a spot more dear and sacred than home -itself. So I strode blindly on, hurling myself -savagely at the underbrush, until the very fury of -my exertions served to exhaust the fire which -raged within.</p> - -<p>“Am I going too fast?” I asked, pausing and -turning to her, for her footsteps told me that she -was close at my heels.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span>“No,” she said, “but you must be tiring yourself -terribly, and to little useful purpose.”</p> - -<p>“It was the brute fighting itself out,” I explained; -“exhausting itself by bruising and -trampling down those poor little saplings.”</p> - -<p>“And is it quite exhausted?”</p> - -<p>“I trust so. Do you never have an impulse to -destroy things—to rend them apart and shatter -them to bits?”</p> - -<p>“Sometimes,” she admitted, laughing. “It’s -like a thunderstorm, isn’t it—all fire and fury -while it lasts, but leaving one cleansed and purified. -Oh, I am far from perfect,” she added, laughing -again as she caught my glance, “as you would -have seen for yourself long ere this had you been -of an observing turn. Is this as far as we go -through this thicket?”</p> - -<p>“No,” I answered, checking the words which -rose to my lips; and I set off again, nor paused -until the village had sunk from sight behind us. -“Now we can rest,” I said, and sat down at the -edge of the bushes.</p> - -<p>She sat beside me and leaned her chin upon her -hand as she gazed down into the valley. The sun -was sinking to the west and the road seemed the -merest yellow ribbon between its green hedges. -Far ahead I could see that the country again -became more broken, and a low range of purple -hills closed in the horizon.</p> - -<p>As we sat there silent, a cloud of dust appeared -far down the road, and we moved deeper into the -cover of the bushes, fearing that it was another<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span> -regiment approaching. But it was only a flock of -sheep, driven by three shepherds.</p> - -<p>“Food for the enemy,” I remarked. “That -explains why there are no longer any flocks in -these pastures. The Republic has swallowed them, -as it has swallowed so many other things.”</p> - -<p>We watched them until they passed from sight -on the horizon behind a cloud of dust which rose -and rose until it covered the sun’s face.</p> - -<p>“Yonder behind that cloud lies Thouars,” I -said.</p> - -<p>“And a league beyond is Coulonges—and our -friends,” she added.</p> - -<p>“Always thinking of that!” I rejoined bitterly.</p> - -<p>“Yes—of safety and home. How I shall -delight to be there again!”</p> - -<p>“Home! And I do not even know where that -is! Why is it, mademoiselle, that you have told -me nothing of yourself? Do you mistrust me?”</p> - -<p>“Mistrust you?” she repeated. “What an -absurd question! But there is so little to tell.”</p> - -<p>“And you refuse to tell me even that? I know -nothing of you except your name. How am I to -find you again, if fate is indeed kind to me? -Where am I to look for you?”</p> - -<p>“A perfect lover would have trusted his heart -to lead him,” she retorted. “But since you do not, -you may as well know that the Château de -Chambray is two leagues south of Poitiers.”</p> - -<p>“Then,” I said, “I shall not have far to go -if—if—pray heaven it may be my fortune to seek -you there.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span>I could see by her sparkling eyes that the spirit -of mischief had sprung to life again.</p> - -<p>“We shall be very glad to welcome you, my -father and I,” she said, without permitting me to -finish. “Perhaps we can even persuade you to -bring your betrothed with you. Why not spend -your honeymoon at Chambray, monsieur?”</p> - -<p>“I should like to spend it there,” I retorted, -“but with another woman.”</p> - -<p>It was her turn to redden, and she did so in -good earnest.</p> - -<p>“Do you think fortune will favor me that far?” -I persisted.</p> - -<p>Then she armed herself and struck me a savage -blow.</p> - -<p>“No,” she answered quickly; “I think fortune -will hold you to your promise and that you will -soon forget to rail at her. Your heart is exceedingly -inflammable and will burn none the less -ardently, whether it be I or your betrothed who -applies the spark.”</p> - -<p>“If that is your opinion,” I returned bitterly, -“there is nothing more to be said.”</p> - -<p>“And I am quite certain,” she added, smiling -strangely, “that you will one day accept that invitation. -My father will insist upon it.”</p> - -<p>“Let him!” I retorted. “Are you hungry?”</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>“Nor I. This hamper, then, we will leave here, -as we shall reach Coulanges to-night. It is time -we were setting off.”</p> - -<p>She arose without a word and followed me<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span> -down the slope. Only, when at last I glanced back, -did I perceive that she was bearing the hamper.</p> - -<p>“Why are you bringing that?” I demanded, -wheeling sharp around.</p> - -<p>“Food is not plentiful enough in France to be -wasted in that way,” she answered evenly.</p> - -<p>“What do you propose to do with it?”</p> - -<p>“I propose to leave it at the door of the first -hut we reach;” and she made a motion as though -to pass me.</p> - -<p>I seized the hamper roughly and strode on -through the dusk, marvelling at the inconsistencies -of a heart which could be at the same time so -cruel and so tender.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXIII.<br /> - -<span class="small">FORTUNE FROWNS.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">We</span> gained the road again and turned westward -along it, walking for some time in silence. I -confess I was in bad humor. I was not altruist -enough to burden myself willingly with that -hamper, and more than once I was tempted to -fling it into the ditch at the roadside, especially -as minute followed minute and no house appeared. -But at last at a turn of the road we came upon a -miserable hovel supported by a pile of stone, without -which it must inevitably have collapsed. I -thought for an instant that the hut was empty, -but as we drew near a child’s thin wail came to -us through the open door. I set the hamper down, -knocked and passed on, and I doubt not that in -that family there still survives the legend of a -heavenly visitation.</p> - -<p>My spirit cleared after that, perhaps as the -reward of a good action, perhaps because I was -rid of the hamper; at any rate, I could lift my -head and look about me and take joy in the beauty -of the night. There were only the stars to light -us, for the moon had not yet risen. They looked -down upon us from the high heavens, and it -seemed to me that there was kindness and sympathy -in their gaze—that they blessed us and -wished us well. The road was much smoother -than the one we had traversed the night before,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span> -and we got forward at a speed which warranted -our reaching Coulonges in good time if nothing -happened to delay us. We were both well rested -and I already had good reason to know and -wonder at my companion’s powers of endurance.</p> - -<p>I glanced down at her and saw that she was -staring straight ahead at the road unrolling before -us. How near we were to the moment of parting! -With every step we approached the place where I -must leave her. Even should I survive my pilgrimage -of vengeance, it seemed most unlikely -that I should see her again—certainly we should -never be thrown together in this sweet, intimate, -personal relation. And would I wish to see her -in any other way? To gaze at her from a distance, -to find her fenced about, to stand silent -while some other gallant whispered in her ear—would -not all that be as the rubbing of salt into an -open wound?</p> - -<p>Indeed she had already applied that torture with -that mocking invitation to Chambray. Why was -it that I had so failed to touch a responsive chord -in her? Or rather why, at the very moment I -fancied I had touched it, should she draw back -and deal me a cruel blow? Perhaps she fancied -there was kindness in this cruelty; perhaps she -was trying to save me from sinking too deeply -into the quicksand which entangled me. Alas! -I felt that I was already past all hope of rescue. -So a real kindness would have been to make my -last moments as happy as might be ere the sands -closed over me and divided us forever!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[256]</span>I shook the thought away. Nothing on earth -should so divide us. Honor compelled no man -to wreck his life beyond redemption. But as I -turned the problem over in my mind, I confess -my heart sank. So long as Mlle. de Benseval -lived, just so long was I bound to her. That was -the final statement to which the tangle reduced -itself, and I reflected bitterly upon the folly of -parents who disposed of their children without -asking their consent, or indeed before they were -old enough to know to what they were consenting. -A boy of ten will blithely promise to marry any -one, or will bind himself indifferently with a vow -of celibacy, for what does he know of either? -Only when he comes to look at the world and the -women in it with a man’s eyes does he understand.</p> - -<p>“What is it, Sir Sorrowful?” asked my companion -at last. “The old problem?”</p> - -<p>“The old problem.”</p> - -<p>“Why ponder it? You have already said that -no man can escape his destiny.”</p> - -<p>“I am going to escape mine if it be possible.”</p> - -<p>“Is escape worth so much worry?”</p> - -<p>“It is all the difference between hell and -heaven!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, fie! What would the betrothed think -could she hear you?”</p> - -<p>“I wish she could!” I retorted bitterly.</p> - -<p>“Ah, M. de Tavernay,” and her voice had a -note of sadness in it, “I thought you a gallant -man. I thought you brave enough to approach -your fate with a smile upon your lips. I thought<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span> -you generous enough to make this girl who is -waiting for you believe that you really loved her. -Consider how much more difficult is her task. -Perhaps she remembers you only as a thoughtless -and unattractive boy; perhaps she also has seen -some one whom she fancies she could love better; -perhaps it is some one who is really better worth -loving. Yet she is awaiting you, stifling her misgivings -in her bosom, ready to keep her oath, -although an oath is not the same thing to a woman -as to a man. Nor is marriage the same thing. To -a man it is an episode; to a woman it is her whole -life. She belongs to the man she has married. -Do you think the woman to whom you are betrothed -does not realize all this? Be sure she -does—and trembles at it. And you propose to -make her task more difficult still. You will come -to her with a sour and downcast face; you will -say to her as plainly as if you spoke the words, -‘I do not love you; I take you because I must. If -I were free I would not look at you a second time; -I am making a martyr of myself by marrying you.’ -Which do you think will be the greater martyr, -monsieur, you or she? You are right in your estimate -of yourself—you are wholly selfish.”</p> - -<p>I had listened with bowed head and quivering -nerves. Every word burnt into me as a white-hot -iron.</p> - -<p>“You are right,” I said hoarsely, when she had -finished. “I am a coward—a cur. I am not -really a man of honor.”</p> - -<p>“You are only a boy,” she said; and her tone<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span> -was more tender. “You have been too long in -your mother’s leading-strings. But you have in -you the making of a man, my friend, and I know -that I shall live to be proud of you.”</p> - -<p>I caught her hand and kissed it—a kiss not of -love but of gratitude. I swear that at that moment -passion was as dead in me as though it had never -been.</p> - -<p>We went on in silence after that. I had my -bitter draught to swallow, and swallow it I did -without flinching, for all pretty euphemism had -been stripped away.</p> - -<p>“Mademoiselle,” I said at last, “I hope that in -time you will pardon me. And I thank you from -the bottom of my heart that you had the courage -to speak as you did just now. It was the only way -to open my eyes to my real self. Believe me, I -shall be brave enough to look at it steadily.”</p> - -<p>She held out her hand with a quick gesture.</p> - -<p>“I am sure you will,” she said very softly. -“And let me tell you one thing more: I shall -always be a better woman for having known you.”</p> - -<p>Again I kissed her hand,—humbly as a slave -might,—and again we went on in silence. The -moon rose and threw our shadows far before us -along the road. We came at last to the rough -and uneven ground I had seen from the hillside -and here we found the way more difficult, for the -road grew narrow and uneven, with high untrimmed -hedges closing it in on either hand and -sometimes even meeting overhead, so that we -seemed to be stumbling forward in a tunnel into<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span> -which no ray of light could penetrate. I aided her -as well as I could, but even then it was disheartening -and exhausting work.</p> - -<p>“We must rest,” I said; “we must rest;” and -I led her to a seat in the shadow of the hedge.</p> - -<p>“I shall recover in a moment,” she protested. -“We must reach Coulonges to-night. I have set -my heart on it. Remember, we burnt our ships -behind us when we abandoned our provisions.”</p> - -<p>“We shall reach Coulonges,” I said confidently. -“At the next house I will inquire the way.”</p> - -<p>“Come,” she said, starting to her feet. “Let -us go. I am quite rested.”</p> - -<p>She was a few paces ahead of me, and I let -her keep the place for a moment that I might -admire her erect and graceful figure, when suddenly -she shrank back against me with a little cry -of fright.</p> - -<p>“What is it?” I asked. “You are not hurt?”</p> - -<p>“No, no,” she whispered; “but yonder—creep -forward and look.”</p> - -<p>There was a sharp turn in the road and as I -went forward cautiously and looked around it -my heart stood still. For there, not two hundred -yards distant, was encamped a regiment of infantry—the -same perhaps that we had seen pass that -afternoon. I contemplated the camp in silence for -a moment, noting how it lay in the little valley, -then I drew back and rejoined my comrade.</p> - -<p>“There is no danger,” I said. “We must make -a wide detour and avoid these fellows.”</p> - -<p>I searched along the hedge until I found a place<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span> -where I could break through, and in a moment we -were together in the field on the other side. Cautiously -we crept away up the hillside until the -lights of the camp gleamed faint behind us; then -we went forward past them. There was no danger -of our being seen, despite the brightness of the -moonlight, for the field was full of sheep—the -same we had seen pass, no doubt—and at a distance, -so low we crept, we could not be distinguished -from them. We came to another hedge -and broke a passage through it, and I was just -turning back toward the road when a low moan -behind me brought me sharp around.</p> - -<p>“What is it?” I asked again, and stretched out -my arms and caught her, or she would have fallen.</p> - -<p>“My ankle,” she gasped, her lips white to the -very edge. “I turned it back yonder. I thought -I could walk on it but—oh!” and she shivered -and hid her face against my shoulder.</p> - -<p>I placed her gently on the ground and with -trembling fingers undid the laces of her shoe. She -shivered again with agony at my touch and closed -her eyes. I felt that the ankle was already swelling, -and the sweat poured down my face as I -realized what anguish she was in.</p> - -<p>“I must get aid,” I said thickly. “I must get -you to some house.”</p> - -<p>She was clutching wildly at my sleeve, her face -convulsed, her eyes bright with suffering.</p> - -<p>“Leave me,” she said, pulling me down to her. -“Leave me. It is no more than I deserve. Save<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span> -yourself. Only,” she added softly, “kiss me -first.”</p> - -<p>For answer, I bent and lifted her tenderly in -my arms, pressed her close against my heart and -kissed her quivering lips, her shining eyes, and -fragrant hair.</p> - -<p>“I love you,” I whispered—“more than ever -I love you! Oh, I shall never be able to tell you -how I love you!”</p> - -<p>She clung to me desperately, and I held her -close—close—trembling with a great happiness.</p> - -<p>“Tell me,” I whispered; “I know it now—but -tell me!”</p> - -<p>She lifted her face to mine, no longer pinched -with suffering, but radiant with joy.</p> - -<p>“I love you!” she said. “Oh, why should I -deny it?”</p> - -<p>Again I kissed her; then I set off down the hill, -while she dropped her head upon my shoulder -and sobbed silently—but I knew that it was not -with pain. She was mine—mine! Nothing could -alter that! Not all the oaths of heaven and hell -could alter that! Not the scorn of the living nor -the memory of the dead could alter that! I had -happiness within my hand and I would hold it -fast; there should be no paltering with it, no looking -back, no question of this or that. How foolish -all such questions seemed, now that the die was -cast!</p> - -<p>At last I reached the road and for an instant -hesitated, looking up and down. To ask aid of -the Blues would be to court the guillotine, and yet<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[262]</span> -I might blunder along the road for hours without -coming to a house where help could be secured. -Had I the right to condemn her to that suffering? -Then I remembered Goujon. Better a sprained -ankle than that infamy—better any suffering than -that! And resolutely I set my face westward.</p> - -<p>“It will not be long,” I whispered. “We shall -find a house. Be brave! Remember only that I -love you!”</p> - -<p>She answered with a pressure of her arms about -my neck, and I went on with new strength, my -heart singing. At last, with a deep breath of -thankfulness, I discerned the roof of a cottage -rising above the hedge to the right. Was it occupied? -There was no light at the window nor -smoke rising from the chimney, but I hastened -forward to its door and knocked. There was no -response. I tried the door and found it barred, -so I knocked again, or rather hammered savagely -with my fist. This time a step approached.</p> - -<p>“Be off!” cried a harsh voice. “No entrance -here.”</p> - -<p>“Citizen,” I said as mildly as I could, “I ask -your aid—you will lose nothing by opening the -door.”</p> - -<p>“Be off!” he cried again. “I will not open.”</p> - -<p>“Well then I shall kick it in,” I said, letting -my wrath burst forth, “and shoot you down like -the dog you are. Choose—a gold louis if you aid -me, death if you refuse!” and I gave the door a -premonitory kick which made the flimsy building -tremble. “Come, is it war or peace?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[263]</span>“What is it you require, citizen?” asked the -voice after a moment in a milder tone.</p> - -<p>“Some water boiling hot and cloth for a -bandage.”</p> - -<p>“And for these you will give a gold louis?”</p> - -<p>“I promise it.”</p> - -<p>“Very well, I will open the door.”</p> - -<p>“You will make a light first,” I said; and placing -my burden carefully on the ground in the -shadow of the hedge I drew my pistol and assured -myself that it was ready. “Come, make haste,” -I added.</p> - -<p>In a moment a light sprang up within and the -door slowly opened. I crossed the threshold with -a bound, to find myself face to face with as villainous -a wretch as I had ever encountered. A -great shock of yellow hair hung over a face so -grimed and crusted with filth that the features -were almost indecipherable. The head hung forward, -and the great hands dangling below the -knees showed that the man was deformed.</p> - -<p>“Quick! stir up the fire,” I commanded, “and -heat the water.”</p> - -<p>“And the gold louis?” he asked, eyeing my -dress.</p> - -<p>I drew it forth and placed it on a rude table -which stood in one corner.</p> - -<p>“There it is,” I said; “but it is not yours yet.”</p> - -<p>His eyes gleamed as he looked at it and he -licked his lips as a dog might have done at sight -of a savory bone; then he turned to the hearth, -stirred the smoldering embers, threw some pieces<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[264]</span> -of wood upon them, filled an earthenware pot -from another vessel which stood on the hearth, -and placed it in the midst of the flames.</p> - -<p>“Your water will be ready in three winks, -citizen,” he said.</p> - -<p>“Good!” and I moved before the fire a bench -which served as a chair. “Now I will bring in -my companion.”</p> - -<p>“Your companion?” he repeated, looking about -with a snarl.</p> - -<p>“Yes—and if you touch the gold-piece I will -kill you. Sit down in yonder corner.”</p> - -<p>He backed into the corner indicated and sat -down, staring vacantly. In an instant I was outside, -and lifting my comrade tenderly in my arms, -bore her back into the cottage and closed and -barred the door.</p> - -<p>“Sit here, my love,” I said, and placed her on -the bench. “Now, let us see the ankle.”</p> - -<p>I knelt before her and with fingers which -trembled so that I could scarcely guide them removed -the shoe and cut away the stocking. The -ankle,—which should have been so slim, so graceful,—was -cruelly swollen.</p> - -<p>“It will be better in a moment,” I said, and -dipping the remnant of the stocking into the steaming water, -held it close against the hurt.</p> - -<p>“Oh, that is heavenly!” she murmured, and -breathed a deep sigh of relief.</p> - -<p>I bathed the ankle thoroughly, immersing it in -water almost scalding, and every instant I joyed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[265]</span> -to see the lines of pain in her face soften and -disappear.</p> - -<p>“And now,” I said at last, “we will bandage -it tightly and it will not pain you—only of course -you cannot use it for some days.”</p> - -<p>“For some days!” she echoed in dismay. “But -we cannot stay here so long a time.”</p> - -<p>“No,” I agreed, “certainly not—but first let -us bandage the ankle.”</p> - -<p>But my face fell as I glanced about the room.</p> - -<p>“What do you require for a bandage?” she -asked, following my eyes.</p> - -<p>“A strip of clean cloth—the longer the better. -But clean cloth in a hovel like this!”</p> - -<p>She colored slightly as she looked down at me.</p> - -<p>“If you will turn your back for a moment,” -she said, “I think I can supply the bandage.”</p> - -<p>I walked over to the corner where our involuntary -host still squatted, cursing softly to himself, -and stood before him. There was a sharp rip.</p> - -<p>“How is this, doctor?” asked a voice; and I -turned to see her holding out to me a strip of -linen.</p> - -<p>“Excellent!” I cried; and kneeling before her, -I drew it tightly around the ankle. I rejoiced to -see that the swelling had already decreased considerably, -and I bent and kissed the little foot.</p> - -<p>“Is that a portion of the treatment?” she asked, -laughing.</p> - -<p>“A very necessary portion—don’t you feel the -improvement?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[266]</span>“Yes,” she said, her eyes dancing, “I believe -I do.”</p> - -<p>“And now,” I added, standing up again, “we -must get out of this. We are still too near that -camp down yonder.”</p> - -<p>“But I am such a burden!” she protested.</p> - -<p>“A dear, delightful burden;” and I stooped to -raise her. But at that instant a violent blow -sounded on the door.</p> - -<p>“Open!” cried a voice. “Open!”</p> - -<p>There was no time to temporize; besides, I -knew that to hesitate would be to double any suspicion -we might awaken.</p> - -<p>“At once!” I answered. “Be brave, my -love!” I whispered, and kissed her lips. As I -turned away I saw the brute in the corner spring -upon the gold-piece and hide it among his rags.</p> - -<p>“Open!” cried the voice again; and the door -shook under a savage blow.</p> - -<p>I strode to it and flung it wide.</p> - -<p>A flash of arms greeted my eyes, a vision of -fierce faces. In an instant a dozen men came -crowding into the room, and I saw that they wore -the uniform of the Republic.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_266.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">I STRODE TO THE DOOR AND FLUNG IT WIDE</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[267]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXIV.<br /> - -<span class="small">THE DRAGON’S DEN.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> rush of the intruders, sudden and overwhelming, -drove me back from the door, but I -managed to hold my place, pistol in hand, before -my love, too dazed for the moment to do aught -but stare at them and curse the fortune which had -brought us to this desperate pass. But I had a -part to play,—a part I had rehearsed more than -once for an emergency just such as this,—and I -got my wits back by a supreme effort, while the -newcomers still stood gaping in a semicircle -about us.</p> - -<p>“Well, citizens,” I said, trying to achieve a -smile, “one would have thought you were taking -a fortress by assault.”</p> - -<p>“We were set to patrol this road,” explained -one of them. “We saw this light and determined -to find out what was going forward here.”</p> - -<p>I saw by their awkwardness and want of discipline -that they were not trained soldiery, but raw -levies with no clear idea of their duties; and my -spirits rose.</p> - -<p>“Quite right,” I commended, smiling this time -in earnest. “I suspected as much. That is why -I opened so promptly, since we have nothing to -conceal. There is no enemy of the Republic here—only -this honest old fellow, this woman and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[268]</span> -myself. So farewell, my friends. Oblige me by -using this to drink the health of the Nation;” -and I tossed their spokesman a silver crown.</p> - -<p>A murmur of satisfaction ran around the group, -and such is the power of self-assurance, that three -or four of them made a motion to withdraw. But -their spokesman, evidently the most intelligent -among them, lingered.</p> - -<p>“I fear we must require some account of you, -citizen,” he said, looking at me apologetically, -“and above all of your companion, who appears -to me to be an aristocrat.”</p> - -<p>“An aristocrat!” I laughed, realizing in a -flash that in these circumstances I must take some -other line than that I had originally resolved on. -“So it seems you cannot tell maid from mistress! -She is so little of an aristocrat that she hopes to -be <i>vivandière</i> to the regiment which I join.”</p> - -<p>“Then, <i>pardieu</i>, you must join ours!” cried -one of the rogues, and pressed toward her. “Hey, -my dear, look at us—we’re a likely set of fellows. -We’ll be kind to you—we’ll do our best to make -you happy;” at which his comrades laughed -approvingly and gazed at my companion with -meaning glances.</p> - -<p>“We are already pledged to a regiment at -Thouars, citizen,” I protested, pushing him back -good-naturedly, though there was red murder in -my heart.</p> - -<p>“Her clothing is not that of a servant,” said -another, staring at her.</p> - -<p>“Well, may not a maid don her mistress’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[269]</span> -gown?” I demanded. “Especially when she is -leaving her for the last time?”</p> - -<p>They laughed again at that, but I saw that suspicion -had been aroused—faint indeed, but enough -to imperil us. Any but these country louts would -have seen through the lie at once—that peerless -creature a servant, indeed!</p> - -<p>“What is your business here, citizen?” queried -the first speaker after a moment’s silence during -which I noted with uneasiness that none of them -made any movement to retire.</p> - -<p>“We stopped here to rest,” I explained. “My -comrade has injured her ankle. We will spend -the night here, since it is impossible for her to go -farther. Your regiment passes here?”</p> - -<p>“Undoubtedly, since it also goes to Thouars.”</p> - -<p>“Well, we will join it as it passes. Perhaps -you will give us breakfast and permit my comrade -to ride in one of the wagons.”</p> - -<p>“Undoubtedly, citizen,” chimed in another with -a laugh; “but we’ll not permit any such scarecrow -as you to ride with her. You’d prefer a handsome -soldier, wouldn’t you, my dear?”</p> - -<p>“As you will,” I agreed, laughing too, though -with no small effort; “but you see how pale she -is—she suffers greatly. A night’s rest will change -all that. So good-night, citizens; till to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>This time they appeared really satisfied and -started for the door in a body. But a sudden -uproar from without stopped them.</p> - -<p>“Name of a dog!” yelled a hoarse voice.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[270]</span> -“Where are those blockheads? Ah, they shall -hang for this! Deserters! Traitors!”</p> - -<p>There was an uneasy movement among the men. -I saw that they had reason to know and fear that -voice. In another instant a ferocious face appeared -in the doorway, its eyes gleaming with rage.</p> - -<p>“What!” it cried; and I saw a sword gleam in -the air and descend with no uncertain force on -heads and shoulders. “Dallying here with a light-o’-love! -Is it thus you do your duty? Is it thus -you serve the Nation? Hounds! Curs! I’ll -show you!” and he drove them forth pell-mell into -the road. “And who are you, citizen?” he demanded, -wheeling upon me when the last of them -had disappeared.</p> - -<p>“I am on my way to join the army at Thouars,” -I said.</p> - -<p>“And she?” and he jerked his thumb toward -my companion.</p> - -<p>“Spoil of war,” I explained with a wide smile, -seeing he was too wise to swallow the other story.</p> - -<p>He turned and stared at her for a moment.</p> - -<p>“My word, you have a pretty taste, citizen,” -he said; and his eye gleamed lasciviously. “I -think I will release you, my dear, from this dirty -brute,” he added to her with a leer he no doubt -thought engaging. “You’d rather have a brave -fellow like myself, wouldn’t you? Say, wouldn’t -you?” and he approached and tweaked her ear. -“Of course you would! So it is settled.”</p> - -<p>“Citizen,” I interposed, “I shall have a word -to say to that. She belongs to me.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[271]</span>He turned upon me a disdainful countenance.</p> - -<p>“Get out, you beast!” he said. “Don’t you -see we wish to be relieved of you? You say you -are going to Thouars. Well, the door is open. -Suppose you start now.”</p> - -<p>“When I start my prisoner goes with me,” I -said.</p> - -<p>He stared at me for a moment as though scarcely -able to believe his ears.</p> - -<p>“What!” he shouted. “You dispute with me! -You—you scum! You insect! You toad! I tell -you to get out! I advise you to get out while -you are able to use your legs.”</p> - -<p>“Pah!” I retorted, rage mastering me. “Save -your ass’s voice for those cowards out yonder. -I’m not afraid of noise!”</p> - -<p>“Dog!” he yelled, and sprang upon me.</p> - -<p>But I had my pistol out—it was his life or -mine—and fired straight into that savage countenance. -I saw the gaping hole the bullet left; I -saw the blood spurt from it as he pitched forward -at my feet. Then a score of savage hands seized -me, and I thought for an instant that I should be -torn asunder. But a mounted patrol, summoned -by the shot, cantered up, cut their way through the -crowd, and jerked me out of its clutches.</p> - -<p>“What is all this?” demanded their officer.</p> - -<p>In two words they told him the story, pointing -to the body on the floor and to the girl cowering -in one corner, her hands before her face. They -ended by demanding that I be hanged forthwith.</p> - -<p>“Oh, he shall hang!” my new captor assured<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[272]</span> -them. “Rest content. But he may be a spy; and -first we’ll see what he knows. Tie his hands.”</p> - -<p>They were secured behind my back in a -twinkling.</p> - -<p>“Bring the woman too,” he said; and one of -them brought her forth and threw her across a -horse. I saw with a sigh of relief that she had -fainted. “Give me your rope, Couthon,” he -added to one of his men.</p> - -<p>The rope was a strong yet slender line. Already -in one end of it there was a running noose, and I -shuddered as I guessed its meaning. He threw -the noose over my head, drew it tight about my -neck and made the other end fast to a ring in his -saddle.</p> - -<p>“Release him,” he commanded, with an evil -laugh. “He can’t get away. Forward!”</p> - -<p>For an instant the thought flashed through my -brain that I would end it here, that I would let -myself be dragged under the hoofs of the horses. -Then, as a trooper cantered by me bearing a limp -form before him, I realized my cowardice. So -long as a breath of life remained I must fight to -save her from the hideous fate which threatened -her.</p> - -<p>So I ran along in the dust beside my captor in -such an agony of rage and despair as I had never -known. If a wish of mine could have engulfed the -world in ruin I would instantly have uttered it. -I prayed for an earthquake to swallow us, for a -thunderbolt to blast us. I looked up at the clear<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[273]</span> -sky and cursed it. So this was the end—for me, -death by the rope—for her....</p> - -<p>The lights of the camp gleamed ahead. In a -moment we passed the outpost and approached a -tent before which a sentry was stationed.</p> - -<p>“Announce to Citizen Goujon,” said my captor, -reining in his horse, “that we have here two -traitors to be judged.”</p> - -<p>The sentry saluted and disappeared into the -tent. As for me, my heart had stopped at the -mention of that name. Goujon! Was he to -prove my murderer, too? And Charlotte——</p> - -<p>“Enter, citizen,” said the sentry, holding back -the flap of the tent.</p> - -<p>My captor threw himself from the saddle and -led me into the tent, the rope still about my neck. -Another followed carrying Charlotte.</p> - -<p>Within the tent was a table upon which two -candles gleamed. Before it sat a man examining -a pile of papers. He looked up as we entered, -and I shuddered as I met his eyes; for they seemed -a snake’s eyes, so veiled and cold and venomous -they were. The face was pock-marked, clammy-grey, -and the nose so fissured and swollen that it -had the appearance of a sponge.</p> - -<p>He glanced from me to the burden which the -trooper bore, and a slow flush crept into his cheeks.</p> - -<p>“Well?” he asked, sharply, turning back to -my captor.</p> - -<p>And again I had the pleasure of listening to -the highly-colored story of my recent exploit. I -was a murderer, a traitor—undoubtedly an aristocrat.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[274]</span> -I had shot down in cold blood the officer -who was interrogating me. I was plainly a desperate -character and should be hanged before I -had further opportunity for evil.</p> - -<p>“But before hanging him,” my captor concluded, -“I thought it best to bring him to you -for interrogation. He may be a spy.”</p> - -<p>Goujon nodded.</p> - -<p>“You were right,” he said. “Receive my compliments. -Tie him to that pole yonder. As for -the woman, place her on my cot,—we shall find -means to revive her;” and he laughed menacingly. -“You may retire,” he added, “but stay within -call.”</p> - -<p>They saluted and withdrew.</p> - -<p>Goujon waited until the flap fell behind them. -Then he approached me slowly, until he was quite -near, and contemplated me with those snake’s eyes -of his—my face, my clothes, my shoes. With a -little smile of enjoyment he turned away and bent -above the cot, his hands clasped behind him. At -last he turned to the table, took up a candle and -held the flame close to her lips. It flickered back -and forth, and he set it down again with a chuckle -of satisfaction.</p> - -<p>Then he came back to me and stood for a -moment gloating over me.</p> - -<p>“So, Citizen Tavernay,” he said at last with an -infernal smile, “you did not escape after all!”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[275]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXV.<br /> - -<span class="small">IN THE SHADOW.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">So</span>, Citizen Tavernay,” he repeated, dwelling -on the words with a malicious triumph, “you did -not escape after all—you and yonder pretty aristocrat. -God’s blood! but this is a pleasant -moment!”</p> - -<p>He stopped and looked into my eyes, then burst -into a roar of laughter.</p> - -<p>“For me, I mean!” he cried, holding his sides. -“For me—not for you. Come—look at it from -my standpoint. Be large-minded enough to look -at it from my standpoint. Could anything have -been more perfect, more complete, more admirable -in every way? It tempts me almost to believe in -Providence.”</p> - -<p>I could only stand and stare at him and wonder -numbly whether he were man or devil.</p> - -<p>“You wonder how I know you?” he continued. -“True, I have never before had the supreme pleasure -of meeting you thus, face to face, and of conversing -pleasantly with you as I am now doing; -but I know you perfectly nevertheless. The -Nation has a sharp eye for its enemies, and it -never sleeps. That eye has been upon you from -the moment of your flight.”</p> - -<p>But I had shaken off my stupor and got something -of my boldness back.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[276]</span>“Nonsense!” I said contemptuously. “I am -not fleeing. I am on my way to join the forces -at Thouars. You mistake me for some one else.”</p> - -<p>He looked at me and nodded, while his smile -grew and broadened.</p> - -<p>“Not bad,” he commended; “but it is useless -to lie. Even if you were not Tavernay, your fate -is none the less assured. I can well understand -your reluctance to part with life;” and he cast a -leering glance toward the still form on the cot. -“You must have found life very pleasant recently. -But do not despond. You are leaving your -mistress in tender hands. She will not want for -affection.”</p> - -<p>“What is the charge against me?” I demanded, -controlling as well as I could the wrath which -devoured me.</p> - -<p>“The charge?” he repeated negligently. “Oh, -I do not know—there are a dozen charges. I have -not yet determined which I shall use. But what -does it matter? Between ourselves, I will tell you, -citizen, that I have decided upon your death -because you are in the way;” and again his eyes -wandered to that still figure.</p> - -<p>“You would, then,” I said, realizing that I -must keep my calmness, “murder a patriot in -order to be more free to wrong a woman?”</p> - -<p>“A patriot?” he sneered. “Perhaps not—but -I would murder an aristocrat for far less cause -than that.”</p> - -<p>“I am not an aristocrat,” I protested desperately.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[277]</span>“So you persist in that farce?” he queried coldly. -“Really, you grow wearisome. Perhaps you will -explain then how you happen to be wearing the -clothing of that traitor, Pasdeloup?”</p> - -<p>My tongue refused to answer, and he laughed -again as he noted my confusion.</p> - -<p>“I recognize it, every stitch,” he went on evenly; -“every stitch except the shoes. And I even think -I can guess where you got those. More than that, -I can have you identified in a moment. Perhaps -you remember Sergeant Dubosq, whom you encountered -on the road from Tours. I am sure -that he will recall you readily, even in this guise, -for he has an excellent memory. Shall I summon -him?”</p> - -<p>I saw that it was useless to persist.</p> - -<p>“No,” I answered; “don’t disturb the -sergeant.”</p> - -<p>“You admit then that you are Tavernay?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” I answered boldly; “why not? I have -committed no crime——”</p> - -<p>“You have opposed the Nation.”</p> - -<p>“In what way? By trying to escape?”</p> - -<p>“You have abetted the Nation’s enemies.”</p> - -<p>“By accepting their hospitality? That is -childish!”</p> - -<p>“You have murdered two patriots,” he went on -inexorably.</p> - -<p>“Two?” I repeated with a start.</p> - -<p>“One you stabbed last night.”</p> - -<p>“It was his life or mine.”</p> - -<p>“The other you shot a few moments ago.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[278]</span>“To defend a woman’s honor.”</p> - -<p>A sudden light blazed in his eyes.</p> - -<p>“You pretend it still exists?” he sneered.</p> - -<p>I gave him a look, which, had looks that power, -would have scorched and shrivelled him where he -stood. But instead of shrinking he came very close -to me and stared into my eyes, a fiendish grin upon -his lips.</p> - -<p>“Really, Citizen Tavernay,” he said at last, “it -would appear from your countenance that this surprising -thing is true; and yet I can scarcely believe -it. Have you taken a vow? Are you—but no -matter. I thank you, my friend, for your forbearance. -I applaud your virtue, which is really -unique even in this age of virtue. Nevertheless -you must agree with me that your death is more -than ever necessary. Indeed I find you already -one too many!” and he glanced toward the cot -with a meaning unmistakable.</p> - -<p>“What a brute!” I murmured, contempt mastering -every other emotion. “What a brute! -This is your whole life, then! You think of -nothing but vileness. I might have guessed as -much by looking at you! But one victim has -already escaped you——”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he broke in, his face suddenly contorted -with rage; “and the wretch who fired that shot -is burning in hell for it!”</p> - -<p>“She died in her husband’s arms,” I continued, -seeing how the words stung him, “happy, his lips -on hers. Of you she had never so much as heard -the name. During her whole life not once did she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[279]</span> -so much as think of you. For her you have never -existed—never will exist! She has escaped you!”</p> - -<p>“Go on!” he said hoarsely, licking his lips with -a purple tongue. “Body of God! Go on!”</p> - -<p>His face was convulsed with anguish, great -drops of sweat stood out across his forehead; he -was quivering under the blows I dealt him, and yet -he seemed to get a kind of fearful pleasure from -them. And in that instant I saw how he had been -consumed by a hopeless passion; how he had -beaten himself against a lofty wall which he could -never hope to scale; how he was at this moment -eating his heart out—and I might have found it -in my soul to pity him, if I had not so loathed -and hated him for the evil it was still in his power -to do.</p> - -<p>“Go on!” he repeated savagely. “What -more?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing more,” I answered, “except that your -second victim will escape you even as the other. -God protects His angels!”</p> - -<p>“Pah!” he yelled, his wrath bursting forth like -a whirlwind. “I will show you how He protects -them;” and he sprang toward the cot like a wild -beast.</p> - -<p>A blind fury seized me—a fury maddening, -uncontrollable. I saw red—literally and actually -I saw red, as though the world had been suddenly -drenched with blood. I strained at the cord about -my wrists until it cut deep into the flesh; I hurled -myself toward him, only to be jerked back cruelly -by the noose about my neck. I cursed him till<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[280]</span> -I could curse no longer; I offered my soul’s hope -of eternity for a single moment’s freedom.</p> - -<p>Then suddenly I realized my impotence; a great -calm fell upon me. I stopped and looked at him. -He had left the cot and come back to me, bringing -a candle with him in order to see more clearly, and -he stood there regarding me with the air of a -connoisseur.</p> - -<p>“Well, citizen,” he asked with a diabolical smile, -“have you finished? If you care to begin again, -pray do so, for it is very amusing. If not, I fear -I shall have to bid you adieu. After all, one must -prosecute his loves in private.”</p> - -<p>A long sigh from the cot interrupted him; he -turned with a start, holding the candle above his -head. In an instant I saw my chance; I drew -up my leg and kicked him savagely with all my -strength, full in the belly.</p> - -<p>He went back and down with one terrible yell -and lay writhing upon the floor. Again I tore -wildly at my bonds, but the flap of the tent was -dashed aside, and the guard rushed in.</p> - -<p>Goujon sat upright with an effort, swaying -from side to side.</p> - -<p>“String him up!” he yelled, his lips white with -froth like a mad dog’s. “Hang him! Out with -him this instant! An aristocrat and a traitor!” -The words rose to a scream of agony. “Oh, he -has killed me!” he groaned, and fell forward upon -his face.</p> - -<p>“God grant it!” I murmured. “Oh, God grant -it!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[281]</span>Already their hands were upon me, dragging -me away.</p> - -<p>“Tavernay!” screamed a voice. “Tavernay! -Oh, my love!” and I turned my head to see -Charlotte starting from the cot, her hands -outstretched.</p> - -<p>For an instant I shook them off; then they closed -about me and hurled me from the tent. I fancied -that death was upon me then and there, so merciless -were the blows they dealt me. By some -miracle I managed to keep my feet, and suddenly -a gigantic figure drove itself through the crowd -like a catapult.</p> - -<p>“Murderers!” he shrieked. “Assassins!” and -I heard the blows which sent them to right and -left. “What!” he continued, taking his stand -before me. “You would kill a defenseless man—twenty -against one! What sort of cowards are -you?”</p> - -<p>“He is an aristocrat,” broke in the man who -held my halter. “Citizen Goujon has ordered -that he be hanged.”</p> - -<p>“Hang him and welcome,” rejoined the newcomer; -“but don’t let me catch you worrying him -like dogs. Now off with you!”</p> - -<p>The voice sounded strangely familiar in my -ears, and when I had shaken the blood from my -eyes, I saw that my rescuer was Dubosq.</p> - -<p>“Many thanks, my friend,” I said; and he -started round astonished. “It seems you do not -know me,” I added, as he stared his bewilderment,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[282]</span> -“and yet it was only three days ago that we met -on the road from Tours.”</p> - -<p>He seized a torch from the hand of a bystander -and flashed it into my face.</p> - -<p>“My word, citizen!” he cried. “Small wonder! -You looked like a bridegroom, then—and now— -What have you been doing with yourself?”</p> - -<p>“I have been trying to escape being murdered,” -I rejoined. “And it seems that I am not going -to escape after all.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, you will,” he corrected; “you shall -not be murdered, I will see to that—only prettily -executed.”</p> - -<p>“There is a difference, then?” I questioned, -with irony.</p> - -<p>“All the difference in the world,” he answered -with conviction. “The one is irregular and apt -to be bungled; it is done without authority and -without method, and is often needlessly prolonged. -The other is carefully planned and quickly carried -out; all unpleasantness is avoided——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, it is!” I broke in with a little laugh. “I -am glad to know that!”</p> - -<p>“Citizen, you surprise me!” protested Dubosq; -and I saw that he was in earnest. “I thought you -more of a philosopher. Since this is the end, why -worry about it?”</p> - -<p>“I will try not to,” I said; “but at twenty-one -the end comes rather early.”</p> - -<p>“True,” he agreed, and gazed at me contemplatively; -“I had forgot that you were so young.”</p> - -<p>“At any rate, I thank you for your interest,” -I said.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[283]</span>“Perhaps it is misplaced;” and he looked at me, -frowning heavily. “So you were an accomplice -of the <i>ci-devant</i> Favras, after all. You lied very -prettily that morning, citizen—and I would have -sworn that you were fresh from the nursery. -That’s one on old Dubosq.”</p> - -<p>“Not in the least,” I protested. “I did not -lie—I had never seen Favras before. He took -my horse by force, as I related to you; but I found -him awaiting me at the next town. He restored -my horse to me and insisted that I spend the night -at his château.”</p> - -<p>“Faith, citizen,” said Dubosq with a laugh, -“you’d better have lost your horse and spent the -night under a hedge. As it is, you lose your life -and enter the eternal night.”</p> - -<p>“Yes; there’s no help for that, I suppose?”</p> - -<p>“Not if Citizen Goujon has ordered it.”</p> - -<p>“He did order it,” broke in one of my persecutors, -who had listened to all this with ill-concealed -impatience, “and at once.”</p> - -<p>“Very well, comrade,” said Dubosq; “come -along, then. But he didn’t order you to torture -this fellow, and, <i>pardieu</i>, I’ll see that you don’t. -If you have any message, Citizen—I’ve forgotten -your name.”</p> - -<p>“Tavernay,” I prompted.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes; I remember. Well, if you have any -messages, Citizen Tavernay, I’ll be glad to take -charge of them. It’s the only kindness I can do -you, I’m afraid.”</p> - -<p>“Thanks, my friend,” I answered, tears in my -eyes at this unexpected favor. “If you could<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[284]</span> -convey news of my death to my mother at Beaufort——”</p> - -<p>“Consider it done,” he broke in. “Anything -else?”</p> - -<p>“Citizen,” I said, lowering my voice, “for -myself I do not greatly care. But I had a companion—a -pure and beautiful woman. If you can -save her from death, or worse, you will be doing -a noble action.”</p> - -<p>Dubosq pulled his great mustaches thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>“Is she an aristocrat?” he asked at last.</p> - -<p>“Not at all,” I hastened to assure him. “She -was merely a guest at the château like myself.”</p> - -<p>“I will see what can be done,” he promised; -“but it will be no easy task.”</p> - -<p>“I know it, my friend; therefore I ask it of -you.”</p> - -<p>“Come, Citizen Tavernay,” he said, raising his -head suddenly, “I can pledge you one thing.”</p> - -<p>“And that?”</p> - -<p>“That she has nothing worse to fear than -death.”</p> - -<p>“God bless you!” I said with trembling lips. -“God bless you! Now I can die in peace.”</p> - -<p>“Do you know, citizen,” said Dubosq in a -voice almost tender, “I regret more and more -that you did not accept my invitation to join us -that morning, for, by my soul, you are a gallant -fellow!”</p> - -<p>We had reached a small oak which grew upon -the hillside, and one end of the line was thrown -over a lower branch.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[285]</span>“One minute to shrive yourself, citizen,” called -a rude voice.</p> - -<p>I looked out over the hillside. The moon was -sailing high in the heavens, and I noticed that -the flock of sheep was moving down toward us. -Just above us was the line of sentinels, and the -fires of the camp gleamed along the road below. -I could see the soldiers crowded about them, for -the night was chill; could hear their jests and -laughter. The tragedy which was enacting here -on the hillside, and which meant so much to me, -concerned them not at all. They would go their -way, the world would wag along, only I would no -longer be a part of it. My mother—this would -be her death, too—the death of all her hopes, all -her ambitions. She would have nothing more to -live for. I wondered what she was doing at this -moment. Did some message of the spirit warn -her that her only son was in deadly peril? Another -woman would miss me—but aside from these my -disappearance would be scarce noted. It would -create not even a ripple on the great ocean of the -world. My life would count for nothing.</p> - -<p>I thought of all this, and more, which I cannot -set down here—and commended my soul to God. -So this was the end! How little I had foreseen it -when I had ridden so bravely out from Beaufort! -How deeply I had lived in those three days! They -seemed to count more than all the rest of my -life——</p> - -<p>“The time is up, citizen!” called the same rude -voice.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[286]</span>Dubosq was at my side.</p> - -<p>“Courage!” he whispered. “It is soon over!”</p> - -<p>“Adieu, my friend,” I said. “Remember your -promise.”</p> - -<p>“I do remember it. Trust me.”</p> - -<p>I raised my head. At least I would die worthily.</p> - -<p>“God and the King!” I shouted. “Death to -the Na——”</p> - -<p>There came a sharp pain at my throat——</p> - -<p>Then, as though I had uttered a signal, a hundred -muskets crashed from the hedge at our right. -The rope relaxed; I opened my eyes to see with -astonishment the sheep rising on two legs and -charging down upon us. The night was filled with -shrill cries, with hideous yells. In the camp a -drum was beating, and I could see the Blues -running to arm themselves, dashing hither and -thither in panic, their officers straining to bring -order to the frenzied mob. But the savage flood -was upon us....</p> - -<p>“At least, aristocrat, you shall not escape!” -hissed a voice in my ear; and the world reeled and -turned black before me as a great blow fell upon -my head.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[287]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXVI.<br /> - -<span class="small">“COURAGE!”</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">For</span> a time I thought I was again in that raftered -chamber at Beaufort which had been mine for so -many years; but finally I recognized uneasily that -this was not the bed to which I was accustomed, -nor were these dark and grimy walls the ones at -which I had been wont to stare while building my -castles in Spain.</p> - -<p>Then in a flash I remembered,—escape, flight, -capture, rescue,—and I started to spring from the -bed, but fell back again with a cry of pain. For -an instant my head seemed splitting open, and I -closed my eyes dizzily.</p> - -<p>“Gently, monsieur, gently,” said a voice; and -I opened my eyes to see a kindly woman’s face -bending over me. “You must lie still,” she added, -and placed a cool hand upon my forehead. “You -must go to sleep.”</p> - -<p>“But where am I?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“You are with friends.”</p> - -<p>“And Mademoiselle de Chambray?”</p> - -<p>“She also is safe.”</p> - -<p>I closed my eyes with a deep sigh of thankfulness. -Safe, safe, safe—I repeated the word to -myself again and again. Safe! Surely Providence -had guarded us! Safe....</p> - -<p>When I awoke the second time it was night, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[288]</span> -I lay for long staring up through the darkness -and piecing together the adventures which had -befallen me since that moment when Dubosq had -halted me on the highway from Tours. My heart -quickened as I recalled that evening in the garden, -as I rebuilt it, as I lived it over again, second by -second. Ah, that had been the one hour of my -life! And yet, even in the shadow of the perils -which followed, I had not been unhappy, for she -had been beside me, with her clear eyes and smiling -lips; and if she chose to smite me now and then, -why certainly I had invited the blows and even, -in a way, deserved them.</p> - -<p>Then at the end I had won. That final disaster -had driven her straight into my arms, as a storm -drives the boats to harbor. She had laid her -head upon my shoulder and whispered that she -loved me! My pulses quickened at thought of it. -She loved me—that superb, matchless woman loved -me! What did all the rest matter—the world’s -opinion, my plighted word? I would take her—I -would never give her up! She loved me! That -should be my justification. And gripping that -thought tight against my heart I dropped away to -sleep.</p> - -<p>The sun was shining brightly at the open window -when I awakened for the third time, and again I -saw that kindly face bending above me.</p> - -<p>“You are better, monsieur?” she asked; and -again her cool hand touched my forehead. “Yes—your -fever is nearly gone.”</p> - -<p>“I am quite well,” I assured her, “except for a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">[289]</span> -little soreness of the head. Where are my -clothes?”</p> - -<p>“You will not need them for some days yet,” -she said, smiling at my eagerness.</p> - -<p>“Nonsense!” I protested. “I must get up at -once;” and I made a movement to throw back -the covers, but she held my hands, and I found -with surprise that she was stronger than I.</p> - -<p>“You see,” she added, still smiling, “you are -weaker than you thought.”</p> - -<p>“But I cannot lie here,” I cried half angrily. -“I must get up. I have many things to do.”</p> - -<p>I shrank somehow from asking her outright -where my love was waiting, why she did not come -to me. Perhaps she was ill and could not come. -That injury to the ankle....</p> - -<p>“I must get up,” I repeated doggedly; but again -she held me back, her kindly eyes reading the -trouble in my face.</p> - -<p>“If you will lie still,” she said, “I will bring -you some one who will tell you all you wish to -know—and whom, besides, I think you will be -very glad to see.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” I answered, my heart beating -madly. “At once?”</p> - -<p>She nodded, went to the door and spoke a word -to some one in the room beyond.</p> - -<p>Then my heart chilled, for it was not the dear -face I had hoped to see which appeared in answer -to the summons, but an ugly, bearded countenance, -set on gigantic shoulders. And yet, at a second -glance, I saw that the countenance, though ugly,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">[290]</span> -was not repulsive, that the eyes were kindly, and -that the lips could smile winningly.</p> - -<p>“M. de Tavernay,” said my nurse, bringing -him to my bedside, “this is M. de Marigny.”</p> - -<p>He bent and pressed one of my hands in his -great palm, then sat down beside me, while I gazed -with interest at perhaps the most famous among -the leaders of the Bocage.</p> - -<p>“And very pleased I am to find you doing so -well, monsieur,” he said in a voice singularly rich. -“In faith, I thought for a time that we had rescued -you from the rope merely to condemn you to the -bludgeon.”</p> - -<p>“Even that would have been a service, monsieur,” -I answered, smiling in response to him. -“But it seems I am to get well again.”</p> - -<p>“Yes; you had youth and health to fight for -you. Alas, they are not always on one’s side!”</p> - -<p>“But the rescue, monsieur?” I asked. “How -came it so pat to the moment?”</p> - -<p>“I must confess that that was an accident,” he -laughed. “My spies brought me word that this -regiment was marching to Thouars. I determined -to strike one more blow before Easter, so I called -my men together and we waited behind our hedges. -When night fell we turned our sheepskins and, -mingling with the flock upon the hillside, gradually -descended upon our enemy’s pickets. It was then -that a sudden commotion in the camp below -attracted our attention. We saw a fracas, from -which emerged that little procession of which you -were the central figure. We saw them prepare for -the execution and supposing them to be about to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">[291]</span> -hang some cut-throat of their own waited until -they should accomplish it. Then suddenly you -gave our battle-cry, ‘God and the King!’ and -brought us headlong to your rescue. In fact I -had not even to give the word to fire.”</p> - -<p>“It was fortunate I chose to make a theatric -exit,” I commented, laughing.</p> - -<p>“Permit me to say that it was the act of a brave -man, monsieur. I trust that I shall meet my end -as bravely.”</p> - -<p>Poor, gallant gentleman! He met it more -bravely still—the victim of treacherous envy, he -faced the muskets erect, with eyes unbandaged, -and himself gave the word to fire.</p> - -<p>“Tell me more,” I urged. “You won?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes; we cut them to pieces and seized a -store of arms and ammunition which will stand us -in good stead. But we captured something else a -thousand times more welcome.”</p> - -<p>“What was that, monsieur?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“That was Citizen Goujon,” he answered; and -his eyes grew cold as steel. “We found him -writhing in his tent——”</p> - -<p>“Yes—I planted one good blow,” I said, and -told him the story. “What did you do with -him?”</p> - -<p>“We dragged him out, screaming with terror, -begging for mercy, offering to divulge I know not -what secrets, and hanged him with the rope which -had been prepared for you. It was a pretty vengeance—even -you could not desire a better.”</p> - -<p>“No,” I murmured. “No.”</p> - -<p>His face softened into a smile.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">[292]</span>“It has a resemblance to a certain Bible story, -hasn’t it?” he asked. “I did not then know the -full tale of Goujon’s iniquities, or I might have -chosen a different death for him. It was Mademoiselle -de Chambray who told me of the assault -upon the château and the death of my dear friend, -de Favras. Permit me to say that in that affair -also, M. de Tavernay, you proved yourself a -gallant man.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, monsieur,” I answered. “I but -did what any gentleman would do. You found -Mademoiselle de Chambray, then?”</p> - -<p>I tried to ask it carelessly, but I fear my burning -face betrayed me. At any rate, he smiled -again as he looked at me.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he said, “we found her lying senseless -on the floor of Goujon’s tent. At first we thought -her dead, but she soon opened her eyes. Can you -guess what her first word was? But perhaps I -ought not to tell you!”</p> - -<p>“Tell me,” I murmured, striving to restrain the -leaping of my heart.</p> - -<p>“Well, you deserve some reward. Her first -word was ‘Tavernay!’”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” I said, my eyes suddenly misty; “she -had just seen me dragged away to be hanged.”</p> - -<p>“And when we told her what had befallen you -she ran to where you lay——”</p> - -<p>“But her ankle,” I broke in. “Did you -know——”</p> - -<p>“Yes, but she had forgotten it. She ran to -where you lay; she washed and dressed your<span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">[293]</span> -wound; she had you borne hither on a litter; and -she remained beside you until yesterday—until, -in a word, it was certain that you would recover.”</p> - -<p>“Then she has gone?” I asked. “She has -gone?” and my heart seemed to stop in my bosom.</p> - -<p>“Yes, she has gone.”</p> - -<p>“But her ankle?” I protested. “Oh, how she -must have suffered!”</p> - -<p>“She did not suffer at all,” said Marigny. -“When she at last had time to remember her -injury she found that it no longer existed. She -attributed its cure to you.”</p> - -<p>I lay a moment silent, striving to appear composed. -She had gone—she had been brave enough -to go; she had sought to spare me the agony of -that farewell which must in any event be spoken. -She had been wise perhaps. She knew my weakness; -but I felt that I would give my whole life -to see her again, to hold her hand, to look into -her eyes, to hear her say once more, “I love you!”</p> - -<p>“She left no word for me?” I asked at last.</p> - -<p>“She left a note; but I am not to give it to you -until you are ready to set out for Poitiers.”</p> - -<p>“For Poitiers?” I repeated, trembling. “Did -she herself name Poitiers?”</p> - -<p>“Most assuredly. And why do you grow so -pale, my friend? Is it not near Poitiers that her -home is?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur,” I groaned; “but my journey -ends two leagues this side of Chambray. Those -two leagues I shall never cover.”</p> - -<p>“What nonsense! Take my advice, the advice<span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">[294]</span> -of a man who knows more than you of women. -Do not draw rein at Poitiers. Press on to the end -of the journey. You will find a fair prize awaiting -you.”</p> - -<p>I shook my head—he may have known other -women, but not this one.</p> - -<p>“Nevertheless I should like to have the note, -M. de Marigny,” I said. “It will comfort me -somewhat. And besides, I am to start to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>“To-morrow!” he cried. “A week hence perhaps, -if all goes well.”</p> - -<p>I smiled and continued to hold out my hand.</p> - -<p>“Let me have the note, monsieur,” I repeated.</p> - -<p>He hesitated a moment, still looking at me, then -went to the other room and brought the note back -with him and placed it in my hands.</p> - -<p>My fingers were trembling so I could scarcely -break the seal; a mad hope possessed me that she -had absolved me from my vow, that she summoned -me to her. As I opened the paper a little -heap of withered rose leaves fell upon my breast.</p> - -<p>“Ah, you see!” cried Marigny. “I was right, -then!”</p> - -<p>I could not answer, but I held out the note for -him to read. It contained but one word: -“Courage!”</p> - -<p>“Well,” he said, “that is good advice. That -is precisely what you need in this affair, M. de -Tavernay.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” I agreed bitterly; “courage to give her -up—courage never again to see her. You see -she has gone!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">[295]</span>“She could not very well remain,” he said dryly, -“after listening to you three days in your -delirium!”</p> - -<p>“My delirium?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I dare say she was not offended—what -woman would have been?—but she was certainly -red to the ears most of the time. Few maidens, -I fancy, have been treated to such a continuous -stretch of love-making.”</p> - -<p>I reddened, too, at thought of it.</p> - -<p>“What she has suffered on my account!” I -murmured.</p> - -<p>“I tell you she did not suffer in the least,” -repeated Marigny. “You permitted her to see to -the very bottom of your soul, and she saw no -image there except her own!”</p> - -<p>“She knew that from the first,” I said sadly; -“that does not alter matters. No; there is no -way out, M. de Marigny. I can never hope to -marry her—honor forbids it—an oath not to be -broken. She herself has pointed that out to me -in the clearest way. She has shown me what a -coward I was when, for a moment, I permitted -my love for her to blind me to my duty; and I -know how she hates a coward. That is the real -meaning of this message, monsieur; she is afraid -even yet that I may not be brave enough.”</p> - -<p>Marigny had risen and stood looking down at -me with a queer little smile upon his lips.</p> - -<p>“Ah, M. de Tavernay,” he said at last, “I -understand now why that blow on the head failed -to kill you.”</p> - -<p>With which cryptic utterance he left the room.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">[296]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXVII.<br /> - -<span class="small">THE PATH OF HONOR.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">At</span> dawn two days later I took horse for Poitiers -with clothes and equipage furnished me by M. de -Marigny, who had been exceedingly kind to me -from the first, though delighting to speak in -riddles, from which he seemingly drew vast amusement. -For myself, I was not in vein to be amused. -I had fought my battle, and I had won it; I had -set forward on the path of honor; but the victory -had left a wound still raw and bleeding.</p> - -<p>Yet such is the vanity of human nature that it -was not without a certain pride in my achievement -that I bade my host good-by and turned my horse’s -head toward the south. At least I need be ashamed -to look no man or woman in the face. As for -that scar in my heart, no eye except my own -should ever contemplate it.</p> - -<p>What a different creature this from that careless, -heart-free boy who had pricked forth from -Beaufort little more than a week before! Since -then I had lived my whole life; I had sprung from -youth to manhood; I had faced death, tasted of -the world, gazed into a woman’s eyes. I had -taken blows and given them; I had walked in the -black depths of despair, and stood transfigured on -the uttermost peaks of joy. Love had touched me -and left me changed. I had lived,—for a week I -had lived,—nothing could take that from me!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">[297]</span>After much thought I had formed my plan of -action. It was quite possible, as Mlle. de Chambray -had said, that Mlle. de Benseval desired me -as little as I desired her. In case this were true,—and -I flattered myself that it would require no -great penetration on my part to discern it,—I -would offer her her freedom. Should she refuse it, -should she feel bound by our oath, as I did, I -would marry her, then fling myself into the war -in La Vendée, trusting that some kindly bullet -would release us both from our unhappy fate. -But if, on the contrary, she looked on me with -favor, if I saw that I might win her heart, I would -play a man’s part and be as fond a lover as it is -possible to be by taking thought.</p> - -<p>So, having arrived at this conclusion, I put it -behind me for the moment and pricked forward -along the road more cheerfully than I had thought -possible. Such is the virtue of facing one’s duty -squarely, of making up one’s mind—even if it is -only to accept manfully the worst that fate may -offer.</p> - -<p>My road at first lay through the narrow valleys -and between the high hedges of the Bocage. -Everywhere the peasants were working in their -fields; their flocks were grazing peacefully in the -pastures, and one would never have suspected that -it was in this quiet country the first effective stand -had been made against the bloody torrent of the -Revolution. At last I passed Airvault and came -out into the more level country of the Plain. I -had planned to reach Neuville by noon, so pressed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">[298]</span> -on at a good pace, secure in the knowledge that -here to the south I should encounter no Republican -force and consequently no delay.</p> - -<p>I reached Neuville in good season without -adventure of any kind and asked to be directed -to the Bon Vivant, an inn to which I had been -recommended by M. de Marigny as the only -decent one in the village. I found it without -difficulty and sat down at a table on a little vine-clad -terrace overlooking a pleasant valley. Here -my lunch was presently brought to me, and here, -soon after, the landlord sought me out and leaned -deferentially above my chair.</p> - -<p>“Is there anything more monsieur requires?” -he asked.</p> - -<p>“Nothing; I am thoroughly content,” I -answered. “I have to thank a friend for advising -me to stop here.”</p> - -<p>“Have I the honor of addressing M. de Tavernay?” -he questioned, bending still lower.</p> - -<p>“That is indeed my name,” I said, glancing -up at him in surprise. “I did not know it had -penetrated to these parts.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, monsieur is too modest!” he returned -with a flattering smile. “There is a person here -who wishes to speak with monsieur when he is -at leisure.”</p> - -<p>“To speak with me?” I repeated, more and -more astonished. “Who is it?”</p> - -<p>“I do not know his name, but he is most -anxious not to miss monsieur. He has been awaiting -monsieur since yesterday.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">[299]</span>The thought flashed through my mind that it -was some emissary of the Republic sent to arrest -me, but a moment’s reflection showed me the -absurdity of such a suspicion. How should the -Republic know that I would pass this way, that -I would stop at this inn? Besides, I was too -small a bird to trouble the Republic—though, -small as I was, I added to myself with a smile, -the task of arresting me would scarcely have been -entrusted to a single man. No; since he approached -me alone in this manner he could not -be an enemy. A sudden trembling seized me. -Perhaps——</p> - -<p>“Bring him here at once,” I said; and my host, -who had been patiently awaiting the end of my -perplexity, bowed and hurried away.</p> - -<p>He reappeared in a moment followed by a man -dressed decently in black and showing all the -marks of the servant. A glance at his face told -me that I had never before seen him.</p> - -<p>“This is M. de Tavernay,” said my host to -him; and bowing again to me, withdrew. Evidently -I had become in his eyes a person of considerable -importance.</p> - -<p>“Well?” I asked, as calmly as I could, for my -heart was throbbing wildly as I turned to the newcomer. -“You wished to speak to me?”</p> - -<p>“I have a letter for monsieur,” he answered, -and produced it from an inner pocket.</p> - -<p>“A letter?” I repeated, and seized it with -trembling hand. Then a sudden chill fell upon -me as I saw the signature. The note ran:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">[300]</span></p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">My dear Tavernay</span>:—</p> - -<p>“My friend M. de Marigny, who seems to have fallen -in love with you, has written me something of the adventures -which have befallen you since you started on your -journey to Poitiers. I need hardly tell you that I have -awaited news from you with the greatest anxiety, and -that I am overjoyed to know that you have come through -so gallantly. I am sending a faithful man to meet you in -order that he may bring you direct to me, for I am longing -to clasp the son of my old friend in my arms. My daughter -joins me in wishes for your speedy arrival.</p> - -<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Louis Marie de Benseval.</span>”</p> -</div> - -<p>I read it through twice in order to give myself -time to recover from the blow, especially from -the poniard stroke of that final sentence.</p> - -<p>“Very well,” I said at last. “This was very -thoughtful of your master. Have the horses got -ready and I will join you in a moment.”</p> - -<p>He hastened away, and when, having finished -my wine, I descended into the courtyard of the -inn, I found him awaiting me with the horses -accoutred for the journey. I swung into the -saddle and cantered out from the inn, he following -a pace behind.</p> - -<p>But my serenity of the morning had vanished -utterly. Now that I was face to face with the -task which awaited me, now that there was no -longer chance of evasion or escape, the blood -turned to water in my veins. To make love to a -woman I did not love, to appear before her always -with a smile upon my lips and soft words upon -my tongue, to play the gallant when my heart was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">[301]</span> -far away, to lead her to the church, to be bound -to her irrevocably, and finally to pass the remainder -of my life in her company, always with deceit -in my face—in a word, to live a lie!—that was -the task I had set myself. Would I be able to -accomplish it? Was it not beyond my poor -strength? After all, did honor demand of me -such a sacrifice?</p> - -<p>But I put that thought from me for the last time -as I recalled certain scorching words which had -been uttered to me on the road from Dairon. I -must accomplish it, or prove myself unworthy of -that temple in which she had enshrined me! I -put my hand into my bosom and touched the note -I carried there, repeating its one word over and -over to myself:</p> - -<p>“Courage! Courage! Courage!”</p> - -<p>And in that moment my doubts fell away, never -to return. I was armed, <i>cap-a-pie</i>, against whatever -arrows fate might launch.</p> - -<p>At last I turned and motioned my attendant to -come forward.</p> - -<p>“What is your name?” I asked, noting his -intelligent face.</p> - -<p>“Bertin, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“You left your master in good health, I trust?”</p> - -<p>“In excellent health, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“And your mistress?”</p> - -<p>“She also, monsieur. I have never seen her -looking better.”</p> - -<p>“Let me see,” I went on, “Madame de Benseval -is dead, is she not?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">[302]</span>“Oh, these many years, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“There was only one child?”</p> - -<p>“Only one, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>“How old is she?”</p> - -<p>“Nineteen, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him if -she was beautiful, but I choked the question back. -It was indiscreet—and after all what did it matter?</p> - -<p>“They have been greatly worried at monsieur’s -failure to appear,” he added.</p> - -<p>I almost groaned aloud.</p> - -<p>“M. de Benseval said he had been expecting -me,” I murmured mechanically.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes; for a week almost. He had made -arrangements for the fête, but of course it was -postponed when monsieur did not arrive.”</p> - -<p>“Postponed until when, Bertin?” I questioned.</p> - -<p>“It is to take place to-morrow if monsieur -approves,” he answered, and glanced at me quickly.</p> - -<p>This time I could not wholly suppress the groan, -but managed to change it into a cough. The end -was nearer than I had thought.</p> - -<p>We rode on in silence after that, for I had no -more questions to ask, nor apparently had Bertin -any information to volunteer. And at last, just -as dusk was falling, we trotted around a turn in -the road and saw before us the walls and towers -of Poitiers rising tier upon tier to the cathedral -which crowns the summit of the hill upon which -the town is built. It looked warm and gay in the -rays of the setting sun, but darkness had fallen ere<span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">[303]</span> -we crossed the bridge which leads into the town; -and once engulfed in its narrow, steep, and tortuous -streets, I had soon lost all sense of direction, -and appreciated more than ever M. de Benseval’s -thoughtfulness in sending me a guide.</p> - -<p>For my companion seemed to know the road -perfectly, turned this way and that without hesitation, -and at last drew rein before a house at -whose door a torch was flaring.</p> - -<p>“Here we are,” he said, as he threw himself -from the saddle and helped me to dismount. -“This way, monsieur.”</p> - -<p>Scarcely had we set foot on the lowest step -when the door burst open and a man appeared on -the threshold—a man tall, of commanding presence, -with the noblest countenance I had ever seen.</p> - -<p>“Tavernay!” he cried, his arms extended. -“Tavernay!”</p> - -<p>And I, as though I had found a second father, -sprang up the steps and threw myself into them.</p> - -<p>I know not how it was, but at the end of a -moment I was telling myself that it was worth -some sacrifice to be near a man like this. He led -me in across the vestibule to the drawing-room -beyond and sat me down and looked at me.</p> - -<p>“You are your father over again, my boy,” he -said at last; and his face was very tender. “I -see already that I am going to love you!”</p> - -<p>I could find no word of answer, but I think -he read my heart in my face for he held out his -hand and gripped mine.</p> - -<p>“And now,” he continued, “before you meet<span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">[304]</span> -my daughter I desire to talk frankly with you for -a moment. I have sometimes wondered if your -father and I were wise to bind you when you -were only a child. After all, a man should choose -for himself, for marriage without love is not marriage, -and good or bad, there is no escape once -the vows are taken. I know the Paris fashion; -I know that there are many fathers who do not -believe as I do; they think me a fool—which is not -so harsh a name as I sometimes apply to them. -Your father was the dearest friend I ever had. I -certainly do not intend to make his son unhappy.”</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” I said, “I am already betrothed -to your daughter. If she does not love -another——”</p> - -<p>“No,” he said quickly, “I can answer for that.”</p> - -<p>“Then, monsieur, I am ready to espouse her, -and I will do my best to make her happy.”</p> - -<p>He gripped my hand again, his eyes very bright.</p> - -<p>“I am sure of it,” he said; “but it is not a -question of her happiness, but of yours. That -she will find you a good and tender husband I do -not doubt; but there are some things which you -should know. She has had no mother for many -years, and I have perhaps been too occupied in my -own affairs to give her the attention she required. -She has to a certain extent gone her own way, and -such training as I have given her has, I fear, -been a man’s training rather than a woman’s. So -she grew up somewhat wild and headstrong, with -strange ideas upon many subjects; though I did -not suspect this until a month ago when I bade her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_305">[305]</span> -prepare her trousseau. It was at that time she -gave evidence of a disposition wholly new to me. -In a word, she begged me that she might not be -compelled to marry, and when I reminded her -that my honor was engaged she retorted that her -happiness weighed more heavily with her than my -honor, and that at least she reserved the right -to see you before consenting.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, monsieur,” I broke in, “say no more. -I have no wish to force her to become my wife.”</p> - -<p>He held up his hand to stop me.</p> - -<p>“Understand,” he said, his eyes on mine, “that -I did not agree with her. With women it is not -the same as men. Any man who is affectionate -and faithful can win a woman’s love, and keep it. -She has not a man’s distractions, temptations, -opportunities. I am very sure that you will make -my daughter love you.”</p> - -<p>“God grant it,” I said, my lips quivering. “It -is my wish to make her happy. But I am not -a brilliant match—not so brilliant as she deserves. -You are aware that this Revolution has ruined us.”</p> - -<p>Again he held up his hand.</p> - -<p>“No more of that, M. de Tavernay. By the -way, you have not yet asked me what her dowry -is to be.”</p> - -<p>“No,” I answered; “I had not thought of it.”</p> - -<p>He smiled queerly.</p> - -<p>“Well, we can settle all that to-morrow,” he -said. “My chief concern is for your happiness. -Tell me frankly, my friend, do you desire this -marriage?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_306">[306]</span>“A man is bound by his oath, monsieur,” I -answered, trembling a little, but meeting without -flinching the searching gaze he bent upon me. -“Courage! Courage!” my heart repeated.</p> - -<p>“I press this point,” he added, “even perhaps -to indiscretion, because M. de Marigny dropped -what I fancied was a hint that you had formed -another attachment.”</p> - -<p>I put the past behind me and faced the future -squarely. The moment had come to lie, and I -met it as bravely as I could.</p> - -<p>“M. de Marigny was mistaken,” I said steadily. -“Be assured that if your daughter does me the -honor to accept my hand she will find that my -heart goes with it.”</p> - -<p>He sprang to his feet and gripped both my hands -in his.</p> - -<p>“Spoken like a man!” he cried, his eyes shining -strangely. “I feel that I have found a son—I -give you my daughter gladly. Come,” he added, -“she awaits you;” and he opened a door and -motioned me to precede him.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_307">[307]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXVIII.<br /> - -<span class="small">THE GUERDON.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">For</span> a moment I did not see her; then I caught -the shimmer of her gown from the embrasure of a -window, where she stood staring absently down -into the street below, and there floated to me a -faint perfume which shook me with the agony of -recollection. I turned blindly, expecting her father -to announce me, but found with astonishment -that he had closed the door and left me alone with -her. A terrible shyness and indecision seized me. -To advance to her boldly, to take her hand—that -was the lover’s part, and yet I felt myself utterly -unable to fulfil it. Ah, what a horrible chance -that she, too, should use that perfume! I had -not reckoned upon that!</p> - -<p>“Courage! Courage! Courage!” I repeated -to myself, and touched the note warm against my -heart; but in this supreme crisis, its power failed -me.</p> - -<p>So I stood where I was, the cold sweat upon -my brow, looking foolish enough, as I have since -been told, and waited for her to turn and discover -me. That she did not turn surprised me more -and more, for surely she must have heard the -opening and closing of the door. Then, as I saw -her more clearly, I perceived that she, too, was -agitated, for she carried her handkerchief to her -lips once or twice with a hand anything but steady.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_308">[308]</span>Whatever my cowardice, I could not permit -her to suffer because of it, so I gripped my courage -to me and advanced to her side.</p> - -<p>“Mademoiselle,” I began stammeringly.</p> - -<p>She turned suddenly and faced me—and I stood -struck to stone, staring, not able to believe my -eyes; for it was she—my love—Charlotte!</p> - -<p>“You!” I said hoarsely at last. “You!”</p> - -<p>The blood was coming and going in her cheeks; -her eyes were luminous with a strange fire. She -held out a trembling hand to me, and when I -kissed it I found it cold as ice.</p> - -<p>“Did you think it very heartless of me to -desert you, M. de Tavernay?” she questioned.</p> - -<p>“At first I could scarcely believe it,” I stammered, -still staring at her; “but afterwards I saw -that you meant to be kind. I should not have -won the battle if you had stayed.”</p> - -<p>“And you did win it!” she cried.</p> - -<p>“Yes; your note helped—and—and the rose leaves,” -I added hoarsely.</p> - -<p>“I found them—in your bosom,” she said, her -color deepening. “I thought—perhaps—you -would like to have them.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” I said; “yes;” then stopped, looking at -her. “But one may lose a battle even after winning -it,” I warned her. “I fear I am losing mine. -You are trusting me too far, as you did once -before. Do you remember?” and my blood -glowed at the recollection.</p> - -<p>“Don’t!” she said, and turned away.</p> - -<p>“Where is——”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_309">[309]</span>I hesitated, looking about me. I could not say -the words.</p> - -<p>“Your betrothed?” she finished, turning back, -her eyes gleaming in the old manner. “You are -longing for her, then?”</p> - -<p>“Without a rock to tie to,” I said as calmly as -I could, “I shall be swept away in another moment, -beyond hope of rescue. I have never seen you so -beautiful. I have never loved you——”</p> - -<p>She stopped me with a gesture.</p> - -<p>“M. de Tavernay,” she said with impressive -gravity, “it is my painful duty to tell you that -Mlle. de Benseval no longer exists.”</p> - -<p>“She is dead!” I murmured dazedly.</p> - -<p>“Oh, not in the least. She was never more -thoroughly alive than at this moment.”</p> - -<p>“Then she is married!” I cried, a great load -lifting from my heart. “I see it all—she <i>did</i> love -another—she has married him.”</p> - -<p>“Wrong again, monsieur. She is still a -maiden and does not love another.”</p> - -<p>“Come!” I said. “You are playing with me. -I warn you, it is dangerous!” and I gripped my -arms behind me to keep them from about her.</p> - -<p>She noticed the movement and retreated a step.</p> - -<p>“Monsieur,” she said, “I will tell you the story—if -you will promise to remain where you are -until I have finished.”</p> - -<p>“And after you have finished?”</p> - -<p>“Oh—then—you may do as you please.”</p> - -<p>“I promise!” I cried, the blood bounding -madly through my veins.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_310">[310]</span>“It seems that your betrothed is a wilful and -headstrong creature,” she began, “and when the -time came to prepare to marry you she rebelled. -She had been permitted to form ideas of her own. -She refused to give herself to a man she had never -seen, or whom she remembered only as a thin and -unattractive boy. So the day before you were to -arrive, having failed to exact from her father the -promise that the right of choice should be left -to her——”</p> - -<p>“Yes, he told me,” I interrupted.</p> - -<p>“But he did not tell you that she fled?”</p> - -<p>“Fled!” I repeated. “Then that is the reason -she is not here.”</p> - -<p>“I am sure she would never have done it,” my -companion continued; “however irregular her -training—would never perhaps have thought of a -step so desperate, but for a book she happened to -find one day in her father’s library. She was -attracted first by the illustrations, which were by -Gravelot and very beautiful; then she became -absorbed in the story, a translation from the English, -which related the adventures of a young lady -who ran away from her father to avoid a marriage -into which he would have forced her.<a id="FNanchor_2" href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a> The results -of this flight proved so fortunate,—for by it she -won the man she really loved,—that Mlle. de -Benseval resolved to emulate it. So she mounted -her horse one morning and instead of taking her -usual ride, dismissed her groom and spurred away<span class="pagenum" id="Page_311">[311]</span> -to the house of a friend who, she knew, would -sympathize with her and perhaps intercede with -her father.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, it was with him she was in love!” I -murmured.</p> - -<p>“Not in the least, monsieur; she was in love -with no one, and this friend was a woman. But -that very evening, strangely enough, she met some -one whom she fancied she might love; and in the -days that followed, when they were much together, -she was drawn very near to him; for she saw that -he loved her truly. And at last, in a moment of -trial when he held her in his arms, she confessed -that she loved him in return.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” I said with a sigh of relief, “it appears -to me then that I need think no more of Mlle. de -Benseval. Let us dismiss her—there is another -topic——”</p> - -<p>“Wait,” she said; “I fear you will find yourself -thinking a great deal about her before long. For -after that one moment of utter joy she drew away -from her lover, held him at a distance, was unkind -to him, although all the while she was longing to -throw herself on his bosom and draw his arms -close about her!”</p> - -<p>“What!” I said incredulously. “She did that? -Was she mad, then?”</p> - -<p>“No; she was a woman, and she played with -him because that is woman’s nature.”</p> - -<p>“Yet she knew he loved her!”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she answered, her eyes glowing more -and more. “She knew he loved her, deeply and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_312">[312]</span> -purely, as she could never hope to be loved again; -but she resolved to put him to one supreme test. -If he stood the test she would adore him, worship -him, she would be his, body and soul, through all -eternity. If he did not stand it—well, she would -still love him!”</p> - -<p>“And did he stand it?” I asked, moved more -and more by this story, to which at first I had -listened but indifferently.</p> - -<p>“Let me finish, and you will see. She returned -to her home, she opened her heart to her father, -who is really the kindest and noblest of men, and -he agreed to assist her in the test. So to-day—this -evening——”</p> - -<p>She faltered, stopped and looked at me, smiling -tremulously, her cheeks flooded suddenly with -color.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” I cried; “this evening——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, it is more difficult than I had thought! -How shall I go on? Three months ago, monsieur, -there was a death in our family.”</p> - -<p>“Yes?” I asked, failing to see what this had to -do with the story.</p> - -<p>“It was that of my father’s elder brother,” she -continued unsteadily, without looking at me, “so -that my father, who up to that time had been M. de -Benseval, succeeded to the title and became—became——”</p> - -<p>“M. de Chambray!” I shouted, seeing it all as -in a lightning flash; and I sprang toward her, -blind with sudden joy.</p> - -<p>For an instant she tried to hold me off; but my<span class="pagenum" id="Page_313">[313]</span> -arms were about her, straining her to me. Then -suddenly she yielded, and nestled to me, close—close -against my heart.</p> - -<p>“Oh, my love!—my love!—my love!” she -cried, and raised her lips to mine.</p> - -<p>“Did you call, M. de Tavernay?” asked a -voice; and I raised my head to see my father’s -friend standing upon the threshold, looking at us -with smiling face.</p> - -<p>“Yes, monsieur,” I answered as intelligibly as -I could. “I desired to announce to you that your -daughter has decided to marry me.”</p> - -<p>“In faith,” he said, a humorous light in his -eye, “I somehow suspected it the moment I opened -the door.”</p> - -<p>With which remark he closed it again, and left -us alone together.</p> - -<p class="center">THE END.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph2">By BURTON E. STEVENSON</p> -</div> - -<hr class="tiny" /> - -<p class="ph1">CADETS OF GASCONY</p> - -<p class="center">Illustrated by Anna W. Betts. Cloth, $1.50; paper, 50 cents.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“Mr. Stevenson begins early to involve his hero in a tangle of difficulties, -knows how to keep the reader in suspense, and how to give -his work a certain spirit.”—<i>New York Tribune.</i></p> - -<p>“There isn’t a dull page.... ‘Romance pure and simple’ -describes the two stories in ‘Cadets of Gascony,’ and the romance is -served up in a delightfully thrilling manner.”—<i>Los Angeles Herald.</i></p> -</div> - -<hr class="tiny" /> - -<p class="ph1">AT ODDS WITH THE REGENT</p> - -<p class="center">With frontispiece. Cloth, $1.50; paper, 50 cents</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“The tale is well worth reading. It opens in a most interesting -manner, with some desperate sword play against a historical cut-throat—Cartouche—and -half a dozen of his rogues, in a street of -Paris at the time of the regency, when the Duc de Richelieu was at -the height of his career as a heart-breaker and the especial lover of -Louise de Valois.”—<i>Brooklyn Eagle.</i></p> - -<p>“It deserves a place among the best of the recent historic novels, -and will live no doubt long after the present vogue has become a thing -of the past. It is a pleasure to read a romance of the past that is -not filled with blood-curdling deeds after the style of the ‘shilling -shocker,’ for Mr. Stevenson has written a story that appeals to the -best side of one’s nature. He has characterized noble men and gentle -women, who played fair always and were always true to themselves -and the best of human impulses. The ‘Old Regime,’ as he pictures -it, was a charming era when men bartered life freely, but held honor -and plighted word dearer than existence. Altogether the story is -good as to tone, artistic development of the plot, and finished style.”—<i>St. -Louis Globe-Democrat.</i></p> -</div> - -<hr class="tiny" /> - -<p class="ph1">J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph1">“<i>EASILY THE BOOK OF THE DAY</i>”</p> -</div> - -<p class="center"><i>San Francisco Argonaut</i></p> - -<p class="ph3">Routledge Rides Alone</p> - -<p class="ph1">By WILL LEVINGTON COMFORT</p> - -<p class="center">COLORED FRONTISPIECE BY MARTIN JUSTICE<br /> -12MO. CLOTH, WITH INLAY IN COLORS, $1.50</p> - -<hr class="tiny" /> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p class="drop-cap">HERE is a tale indeed—big and forceful, palpitating with -interest, and written with the sureness of touch and the -breadth of a man who is master of his art. Mr. Comfort -has drawn upon two practically new story-places in the world of -fiction to furnish the scenes for his narrative—India and Manchuria -at the time of the Russo-Japanese War. While the novel is distinguished -by its clear and vigorous war scenes, the fine and sweet -romance of the love of the hero, Routledge—a brave, strange, -and talented American—for the “most beautiful woman in London” -rivals these in interest.</p> - -<p>The story opens in London, sweeps up and down Asia, and -reaches its most rousing pitch on the ghastly field of Liaoyang, in -Manchuria. The one-hundred-mile race from the field to a free -cable outside the war zone, between Routledge and an English -war correspondent, is as exciting and enthralling as anything that -has appeared in fiction in recent years.</p> - -<p>“A big, vital, forceful story that towers giant-high—a romance to lure the -hours away in tense interest—a book with a message for all mankind.”—<i>Detroit Free Press.</i></p> - -<p>“Three such magnificent figures as Routledge, Noreen, and Rawder never -before have appeared together in fiction. Take it all in all, ‘Routledge Rides -Alone’ is a great novel, full of sublime conception, one of the few novels that -are as ladders from heaven to earth.”—<i>San Francisco Argonaut.</i></p> - -<p>“The story unfolds a vast and vivid panorama of life. The first chapters -remind one strongly of the descriptive Kipling we once knew. We commend the -book for it’s sustained interest. We recommend it for its descriptive power.”—<i>Boston Evening Transcript.</i></p> - -<p>“Here is one of the strongest novels of the year; a happy blending of -romance and realism, vivid, imaginative, dramatic, and, above all, a well told story -with a purpose. It is a red-blooded story of war and love, with a touch of the -mysticism of India, some world politics, love of country, and hate of oppression—a -tale of clean and expert workmanship, powerful and personal.”—<i>Pittsburg Dispatch.</i></p> -</div> - -<hr class="tiny" /> - -<p class="ph3">J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY<br /> -<span class="small">PUBLISHERS <span class="gap"> PHILADELPHIA</span></span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph1"><span class="u"><i>A NOVEL OF COMPELLING INTEREST</i></span></p> -</div> - -<p class="ph3">The Heart of Desire</p> - -<p class="ph1">By ELIZABETH DEJEANS</p> - -<p class="center"><i>Author of “The Winning Chance.”</i></p> - -<p class="center">WITH COLORED ILLUSTRATIONS BY THE KINNEYS -12MO. CLOTH, $1.50</p> - -<hr class="tiny" /> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p class="drop-cap">A remarkable novel, full of vital force, which gives us -a glimpse into the innermost sanctuary of a woman’s -soul—a revelation of the truth that to a woman there may -be a greater thing than the love of a man—the story pictured -against a wonderful Southern California background.</p> - -<p>“One of the big headliners in bookland.”—<i>Detroit News.</i></p> - -<p>“The book is a tissue of mysteries, quite apart from the ordinary -usages, but solved in the end satisfactorily.”—<i>Chicago Tribune.</i></p> - -<p>“One of those rare examples of literary composition the artistic -excellence of which is uniform and even throughout.”—<i>Charleston News and Courier.</i></p> - -<p>“There is color, vitality, and freshness in the picture, and -charming variety of detail in the development of story. Horton -is the ideal lover, strong-hearted, wilful, persevering; and Kate -is the vivid, tantalizing, impersonal creature in an armor of secrecy. -But the author transforms this woman into a being of rarest and -most beautiful human qualities—or rather, brings those latent emotions -to the fore. She is a woman racked by grief over death and -unhappy marital experiences in youth, and, later, a woman ‘lied -to, tortured, duped, and her heart polluted and desecrated’; and -in giving up her beloved lawyer-friend, whom she would have -married, to the ‘helpless, motherless, hampered’ child who so -passionately claimed his love, Kate’s humanism stands out in almost -supernatural power.”—<i>Boston Evening Transcript.</i></p> -</div> - -<hr class="tiny" /> - -<p class="ph3">J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY<br /> -<span class="small">PUBLISHERS <span class="gap"> PHILADELPHIA</span></span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph1">“A Powerful Portrayal of the Strongest Passions”</p> -</div> - -<p class="ph3">IN AMBUSH</p> - -<p class="ph1">By MARIE VAN VORST</p> - -<p class="center"><i>Author of “The Sin of George Warrener,” etc.</i></p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>A striking novel of adventure, mystery, and romance, with -varied change of scene. The story opens in an Alaskan mining -camp, then moves to Egypt, where a stirring battle between the -British and the wild tribes of the Sudan is depicted, and finally -returns to this country and Kentucky. Miss Van Vorst has done -the unusual in making her hero a man with an unsavory past, but -whose redemption and repentance are so sincere the sympathy and -admiration of the reader are completely with him.</p> - -<p>“Full of incidents of a strong and stirring nature which -will keep the interest of the reader strongly exercised.”—<i>New York Sun.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p class="center">12mo. Decorated cloth, $1.50.</p> - -<hr class="tiny" /> - -<p class="ph1">“A Stirring Story of Conspiracy”</p> - -<p class="ph3"><span class="smcap">The Man</span> <i>in the</i> <span class="smcap">Tower</span></p> - -<p class="ph1">By RUPERT S. HOLLAND</p> - -<p class="center"><i>Author of “The Count at Harvard,” etc.</i></p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>A dramatic story based upon the legend of “the invisible -prince,” John Christian XX, Prince of Athelstein, whose throne -was stolen from him by the regent while he was forced into banishment. -The narrative tells how the prince played a winning game -in thwarting the conspirator by marrying the very princess whom -the regent was depending upon for the carrying out his nefarious -schemes.</p> - -<p>“He handles his plot of mystery and surprise with infinite -discretion. And he sweeps us along with him from cover to -cover without a diminution of interest.”—<i>Boston Evening Transcript.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p class="center"> -FRONTISPIECE IN COLOR AND BLACK AND WHITE<br /> -ILLUSTRATIONS BY FRANK H. DESCH.<br /> -12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p> - -<hr class="tiny" /> - -<p class="ph3">J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY<br /> -<span class="small">PUBLISHERS <span class="gap"> PHILADELPHIA</span></span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph1">THE FASCINATING SARGASSO SEA NOVEL</p> -</div> - -<p class="ph3"><i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Isle</span> <i>of</i> <span class="smcap">Dead Ships</span></p> - -<p class="ph1">By CRITTENDEN MARRIOTT</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>What do you know of the Sargasso Sea—that -wonderful floating island of seaweed in the Atlantic -Ocean, directly in the path of every steamer sailing -from the Gulf of Mexico to Europe?</p> - -<p>This story tells how three shipwrecked passengers, -two men and a charming young woman, got drawn -into the Sargasso Sea, where they found an entire fleet -of vessels, that had been similarly caught by the -revolving current, and had been there, some of them, -since the days of the Spaniards. It is all so vivid -that one can see the gaunt wrecks, the flapping sails, -the marvellous lost galleons of Spain. The experiences -of these three, until they are rescued, make a -story whose interest never flags even for an instant.</p> - -<p>“Chapter after chapter unfolds new and startling adventures.”—<i>Philadelphia Press.</i></p> - -<p>“An original sea yarn, well spun, wholesomely exciting.”—<i>Cleveland Plain Dealer.</i></p> - -<p>“Mr. Marriott has produced in this finely-wrought tale a -masterpiece of imagination that deserves lasting fame.”—<i>Nashville American.</i></p> - -<p>“A thriller from start to finish. The book will certainly -prove a delight to the lovers of romance and adventure.”—<i>San Francisco Bulletin.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p class="center">FRONTISPIECE IN COLOR AND THREE ILLUSTRATIONS IN BLACK<br /> -AND WHITE BY FRANK McKERNAN.<br /> -12mo. Cloth, $1.00 net.</p> - -<hr class="tiny" /> - -<p class="ph3">J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY<br /> -<span class="small">PUBLISHERS <span class="gap"> PHILADELPHIA</span></span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph1"><span class="u"><i>A NEW SPARKLING ROMANCE</i></span></p> -</div> - -<p class="ph3">The Woman in Question</p> - -<p class="ph1">By JOHN REED SCOTT</p> - -<p class="center"><i>Author of “The Colonel of the Red Huzzars,” “The Princess Dehra,” -and “Beatrix of Clare”</i></p> - -<p class="center">THREE FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOR -BY CLARENCE F. UNDERWOOD</p> - -<p class="center"><i>12mo. Decorated cloth, $1.50</i></p> - -<hr class="tiny" /> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“<i>The Woman in Question</i>” is a romance, but not of -Valeria nor mediæval England. Mr. Scott has remained -home in America, and the scenes are laid in the Eastern -United States. The story is distinctly modern in tone and -theme, and centers in and around Fairlawn Hall, an old -mansion with a marvellous garden, lying on the outskirts of -Egerton, where the new master has come with a party of -friends—to find mystery, misfortune, and love awaiting him.</p> - -<p>Mr. Scott shows steady improvement in each succeeding -novel, and he has planned this latest story well, filling it -with many surprises and dramatic moments.</p> - -<p>“The story has dash and verve.”—<i>New York Times Saturday Review of Books.</i></p> - -<p>“There are few heroines in latter-day American fiction comparable -with charming Mildred Gascoyne.”—<i>Philadelphia North American.</i></p> - -<p>“The dialogue is bright and sparkling, the characters interesting, and -the plot sufficiently exciting. The woman in question, young, beautiful, -and spirited, is involved in mystery, the unfolding of which introduces -some thrilling episodes.”—<i>Boston Evening Transcript.</i></p> -</div> - -<hr class="tiny" /> - -<table> - -<tr><td><span class="large"><b>J. B. LIPPINCOTT CO.</b></span>     </td><td><span class="small"><b>PUBLISHERS<br />PHILADELPHIA</b></span></td></tr> - -</table> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="FOOTNOTES">FOOTNOTES:</h2> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1" class="label">[A]</a> <i>The Partridge</i>:—The book was no doubt “The History -of Tom Jones,” by Fielding, which had been translated -into French some years before.—Translator’s note.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_2" href="#FNanchor_2" class="label">[B]</a> See footnote A.</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="transnote"> -<p class="ph1">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</p> - -<p>Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p> - -<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p> - -<p>Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.</p> - -<p>The cover image for this eBook was created by the transcriber and is entered into the public domain.</p> -</div></div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PATH OF HONOR ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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