Chapter VII
THE WHITE ROSE
I was too quick for Colonel Gaillarde. As he raised his sword, recklessof all consequences but my condign punishment and quite resolved tocleave me to the teeth, I struck him across the side of his head with myheavy stick, and while he staggered back I struck him another blow,nearly in the same place, that felled him to the floor, where he lay asif dead.
I did not care one of his own regimental buttons, whether he was dead ornot; I was, at that moment, carried away by such a tumult of delightfuland diabolical emotions!
I broke his sword under my foot, and flung the pieces across the street.The old Count de St. Alyre skipped nimbly without looking to the rightor left, or thanking anybody, over the floor, out of the door, down thesteps, and into his carriage. Instantly I was at the side of thebeautiful Countess, thus left to shift for herself; I offered her myarm, which she took, and I led her to the carriage. She entered, and Ishut the door. All this without a word.
I was about to ask if there were any commands with which she would honorme--my hand was laid upon the lower edge of the window, which was open.
The lady's hand was laid upon mine timidly and excitedly. Her lipsalmost touched my cheek as she whispered hurriedly:
"I may never see you more, and, oh! that I could forget you.Go--farewell--for God's sake, go!"
I pressed her hand for a moment. She withdrew it, but tremblinglypressed into mine the rose which she had held in her fingers during theagitating scene she had just passed through.
All this took place while the Count was commanding, entreating, cursinghis servants, tipsy, and out of the way during the crisis, my conscienceafterwards insinuated, by my clever contrivance. They now mounted totheir places with the agility of alarm. The postilions' whips cracked,the horses scrambled into a trot, and away rolled the carriage, with itsprecious freightage, along the quaint main street, in the moonlight,toward Paris.
I stood on the pavement till it was quite lost to eye and ear in thedistance.
With a deep sigh, I then turned, my white rose folded in myhandkerchief--the little parting _gage_--the
Favor secret, sweet, and precious,
which no mortal eye but hers and mine had seen conveyed to me.
The care of the host of the Belle Etoile, and his assistants, had raisedthe wounded hero of a hundred fights partly against the wall, andpropped him at each side with portmanteaus and pillows, and poured aglass of brandy, which was duly placed to his account, into his bigmouth, where, for the first time, such a godsend remained unswallowed.
A bald-headed little military surgeon of sixty, with spectacles, who hadcut off eighty-seven legs and arms to his own share, after the battle ofEylau, having retired with his sword and his saw, his laurels and hissticking-plaster to this, his native town, was called in, and ratherthought the gallant Colonel's skull was fractured; at all events, therewas concussion of the seat of thought, and quite enough work for hisremarkable self-healing powers to occupy him for a fortnight.
I began to grow a little uneasy. A disagreeable surprise, if myexcursion, in which I was to break banks and hearts, and, as you see,heads, should end upon the gallows or the guillotine. I was not clear,in those times of political oscillation, which was the establishedapparatus.
The Colonel was conveyed, snorting apoplectically, to his room.
I saw my host in the apartment in which we had supped. Wherever youemploy a force of any sort, to carry a point of real importance, rejectall nice calculations of economy. Better to be a thousand per cent, overthe mark, than the smallest fraction of a unit under it. I instinctivelyfelt this.
I ordered a bottle of my landlord's very best wine; made him partakewith me, in the proportion of two glasses to one; and then told him thathe must not decline a trifling _souvenir_ from a guest who had beenso charmed with all he had seen of the renowned Belle Etoile. Thussaying, I placed five-and-thirty Napoleons in his hand: at touch ofwhich his countenance, by no means encouraging before, grew sunny, hismanners thawed, and it was plain, as he dropped the coins hastily intohis pocket, that benevolent relations had been established between us.
I immediately placed the Colonel's broken head upon the _tapis_. Weboth agreed that if I had not given him that rather smart tap of mywalking-cane, he would have beheaded half the inmates of the BelleEtoile. There was not a waiter in the house who would not verify thatstatement on oath.
The reader may suppose that I had other motives, beside the desire toescape the tedious inquisition of the law, for desiring to recommence myjourney to Paris with the least possible delay. Judge what was my horrorthen to learn that, for love or money, horses were nowhere to be hadthat night. The last pair in the town had been obtained from the Ecu deFrance by a gentleman who dined and supped at the Belle Etoile, and wasobliged to proceed to Paris that night.
Who was the gentleman? Had he actually gone? Could he possibly beinduced to wait till morning?
The gentleman was now upstairs getting his things together, and his namewas Monsieur Droqville.
I ran upstairs. I found my servant St. Clair in my room. At sight ofhim, for a moment, my thoughts were turned into a different channel.
"Well, St. Clair, tell me this moment who the lady is?" I demanded.
"The lady is the daughter or wife, it matters not which, of the Countde St. Alyre--the old gentleman who was so near being sliced like acucumber tonight, I am informed, by the sword of the general whomMonsieur, by a turn of fortune, has put to bed of an apoplexy."
"Hold your tongue, fool! The man's beastly drunk--he's sulking--hecould talk if he liked--who cares? Pack up my things. Which are MonsieurDroqville's apartments?"
He knew, of course; he always knew everything.
Half an hour later Monsieur Droqville and I were traveling towards Parisin my carriage and with his horses. I ventured to ask the Marquisd'Harmonville, in a little while, whether the lady, who accompanied theCount, was certainly the Countess. "Has he not a daughter?"
"Yes; I believe a very beautiful and charming young lady--I cannotsay--it may have been she, his daughter by an earlier marriage. I sawonly the Count himself today."
The Marquis was growing a little sleepy, and, in a little while, heactually fell asleep in his corner. I dozed and nodded; but the Marquisslept like a top. He awoke only for a minute or two at the nextposting-house where he had fortunately secured horses by sending on hisman, he told me. "You will excuse my being so dull a companion," hesaid, "but till tonight I have had but two hours' sleep, for more thansixty hours. I shall have a cup of coffee here; I have had my nap.Permit me to recommend you to do likewise. Their coffee is reallyexcellent." He ordered two cups of _cafe noir_, and waited, withhis head from the window. "We will keep the cups," he said, as hereceived them from the waiter, "and the tray. Thank you."
There was a little delay as he paid for these things; and then he tookin the little tray, and handed me a cup of coffee.
I declined the tray; so he placed it on his own knees, to act as aminiature table.
"I can't endure being waited for and hurried," he said, "I like to sipmy coffee at leisure."
I agreed. It really _was_ the very perfection of coffee.
"I, like Monsieur le Marquis, have slept very little for the last two orthree nights; and find it difficult to keep awake. This coffee will dowonders for me; it refreshes one so."
Before we had half done, the carriage was again in motion.
For a time our coffee made us chatty, and our conversation was animated.
The Marquis was extremely good-natured, as well as clever, and gave me abrilliant and amusing account of Parisian life, schemes, and dangers,all put so as to furnish me with practical warnings of the most valuablekind.
In spite of the amusing and curious stories which the Marquis relatedwith so much point and color, I felt myself again becoming graduallydrowsy and dreamy.
Perceiving this, no doubt, the Marquis good-naturedly suffered ourconversation to subside into silence.
The window next him was open. Hethrew his cup out of it; and did the same kind office for mine, andfinally the little tray flew after, and I heard it clank on the road; avaluable waif, no doubt, for some early wayfarer in wooden shoes.
I leaned back in my corner; I had my beloved souvenir--my whiterose--close to my heart, folded, now, in white paper. It inspired allmanner of romantic dreams. I began to grow more and more sleepy. Butactual slumber did not come. I was still viewing, with my half-closedeyes, from my corner, diagonally, the interior of the carriage.
I wished for sleep; but the barrier between waking and sleeping seemedabsolutely insurmountable; and, instead, I entered into a state of noveland indescribable indolence.
The Marquis lifted his dispatch-box from the floor, placed it on hisknees, unlocked it, and took out what proved to be a lamp, which he hungwith two hooks, attached to it, to the window opposite to him. Helighted it with a match, put on his spectacles, and taking out a bundleof letters began to read them carefully.
We were making way very slowly. My impatience had hitherto employed fourhorses from stage to stage. We were in this emergency, only too happy tohave secured two. But the difference in pace was depressing.
I grew tired of the monotony of seeing the spectacled Marquis reading,folding, and docketing, letter after letter. I wished to shut out theimage which wearied me, but something prevented my being able to shut myeyes. I tried again and again; but, positively, I had lost the power ofclosing them.
I would have rubbed my eyes, but I could not stir my hand, my will nolonger acted on my body--I found that I could not move one joint, ormuscle, no more than I could, by an effort of my will, have turned thecarriage about.
Up to this I had experienced no sense of horror. Whatever it was, simplenight-mare was not the cause. I was awfully frightened! Was I in a fit?
It was horrible to see my good-natured companion pursue his occupationso serenely, when he might have dissipated my horrors by a single shake.
I made a stupendous exertion to call out, but in vain; I repeated theeffort again and again, with no result.
My companion now tied up his letters, and looked out of the window,humming an air from an opera. He drew back his head, and said, turningto me:
"Yes, I see the lights; we shall be there in two or three minutes."
He looked more closely at me, and with a kind smile, and a little shrug,he said, "Poor child! how fatigued he must have been--how profoundly hesleeps! when the carriage stops he will waken."
He then replaced his letters in the box-box, locked it, put hisspectacles in his pocket, and again looked out of the window.
We had entered a little town. I suppose it was past two o'clock by thistime. The carriage drew up, I saw an inn-door open, and a light issuingfrom it.
"Here we are!" said my companion, turning gaily to me. But I did notawake.
"Yes, how tired he must have been!" he exclaimed, after he had waitedfor an answer. My servant was at the carriage door, and opened it.
"Your master sleeps soundly, he is so fatigued! It would be cruel todisturb him. You and I will go in, while they change the horses, andtake some refreshment, and choose something that Monsieur Beckett willlike to take in the carriage, for when he awakes by-and-by, he will, Iam sure, be hungry."
He trimmed his lamp, poured in some oil; and taking care not to disturbme, with another kind smile and another word of caution to my servant hegot out, and I heard him talking to St. Clair, as they entered theinn-door, and I was left in my corner, in the carriage, in the samestate.
The Room in the Dragon Volant Page 7
