Historical Romances: Under the Red Robe, Count Hannibal, A Gentleman of France

by Stanley John Weyman

  CHAPTER IX.

  CLON.

  "You!" she cried, in a voice which pierced me, "You--M. de Berault?Impossible!" But, glancing askance at her.--I could not face her,--Isaw that the blood had left her cheeks.

  "Yes, Mademoiselle," I answered, in a low voice. "De Barthe was mymother's name. When I came here, a stranger, I took it that I mightnot be known; that I might again speak to a good woman and not see hershrink. That--but why trouble you with all this?" I continued proudly,rebelling against her silence, her turned shoulder, her averted face."You asked me, Mademoiselle, how I could take a blow and let thestriker go. I have answered. It is the one privilege M. de Beraultpossesses."

  "Then," she replied quickly, but almost in a whisper, "if I were M. deBerault, I would use it, and never fight again."

  "In that event, Mademoiselle," I answered cynically, "I should lose mymen friends as well as my women friends. Like Monseigneur, theCardinal, I rule by fear."

  She shuddered, either at the name or at the idea my words called up,and, for a moment, we stood awkwardly silent. The shadow of thesundial fell between us; the garden was still; here and there a leaffluttered slowly down, or a seed fell. With each instant of silence Ifelt the gulf between us growing wider, I felt myself growing harder;I mocked at her past, which was so unlike mine; I mocked at mine, andcalled it fate. I was on the point of turning from her with a bow--anda furnace in my breast--when she spoke.

  "There is a late rose lingering there," she said, a slight tremor inher voice. "I cannot reach it. Will you pluck it for me, M. deBerault?"

  I obeyed her, my hand trembling, my face on fire. She took the rosefrom me, and placed it in the bosom of her dress. And I saw that herhand trembled too, and that her cheek was dark with blushes.

  She turned at once, and began to walk towards the house. Presently shespoke. "Heaven forbid that I should misjudge you a second time!" shesaid, in a low voice. "And, after all, who am I that I should judgeyou at all? An hour ago, I would have killed that man had I possessedthe power."

  "You repented, Mademoiselle," I said huskily. I could scarcely speak.

  "Do you never repent?"

  "Yes. But too late, Mademoiselle."

  "Perhaps it is never too late," she answered softly.

  "Alas, when a man is dead--"

  "You may rob a man of more than life!" she replied with energy,stopping me by a gesture. "If you have never robbed a man--or awoman--of honour! If you have never ruined boy or girl, M. de Berault!If you have never pushed another into the pit and gone by it yourself!If--but for murder? Listen. You may be a Romanist, but I am aHuguenot, and have read. 'Thou shalt not kill!' it is written; andthe penalty, 'By man shall thy blood be shed!' But, 'If you causeone of these little ones to offend, it were _better_ for you that amill-stone were hanged about your neck, and that you were cast intothe depths of the sea."

  "Mademoiselle, you are too merciful," I muttered.

  "I need mercy myself," she answered, sighing. "And I have had fewtemptations. How do I know what you have suffered?"

  "Or done!" I said, almost rudely.

  "Where a man has not lied, nor betrayed, nor sold himself or others,"she answered firmly, but in a low tone, "I think I can forgive allelse. I can better put up with force," she added, smiling sadly, "thanwith fraud."

  Ah, Dieu! I turned away my face that she might not see how it paled,how I winced; that she might not guess how her words, meant in mercy,stabbed me to the heart. And yet, then, for the first time, whileviewing in all its depth and width the gulf which separated us, I wasnot hardened; I was not cast back on myself. Her gentleness, her pity,her humility, softened me, while they convicted me. My God! How couldI do that which I had come to do? How could I stab her in thetenderest part, how could I inflict on her that rending pang, howcould I meet her eyes, and stand before her, a Caliban, a Judas, thevilest, lowest, basest thing she could conceive?

  I stood, a moment, speechless and disordered; stunned by her words, bymy thoughts--as I have seen a man stand when he has lost his all, hislast, at the tables. Then I turned to her; and for an instant Ithought that my tale was told already. I thought that she had piercedmy disguise, for her face was aghast, stricken with sudden fear. ThenI saw that she was not looking at me, but beyond me, and I turnedquickly and saw a servant hurrying from the house to us. It was Louis.His face, it was, had frightened her. His eyes were staring, his hairwaved, his cheeks were flabby with dismay. He breathed as if he hadbeen running.

  "What is it?" Mademoiselle cried, while he was still some way off."Speak, man. My sister? Is she--"

  "Clon," he gasped.

  The name changed her to stone. "Clon?" she muttered. "What of him?"

  "In the village!" Louis panted, his tongue stuttering with terror."They are flogging him! They are killing him, Mademoiselle! To makehim tell!"

  Mademoiselle grasped the sundial and leant against it, her facecolourless, and, for an instant, I thought that she was fainting."Tell?" I said mechanically. "But he cannot tell. He is dumb, man."

  "They will make him guide them," Louis groaned, covering his ears withhis shaking hands, his face like paper. "And his cries! Oh, Monsieur,go!" he continued, suddenly appealing to me, in a thrilling tone."Save him. All through the wood I heard them. It was horrible!horrible!"

  Mademoiselle uttered a low moan, and I turned to support her, thinkingeach second to see her fall. But with a sudden movement shestraightened herself, and, slipping by me, with eyes which seemed tosee nothing, she started swiftly down the walk towards the meadowgate.

  I ran after her, but, taken by surprise as I was, it was only by agreat effort I reached the gate before her, and, thrusting myself inthe road, barred the way. "Let me pass!" she panted fiercely, strivingto thrust me on one side. "Out of my way, Sir! I am going to thevillage."

  "You are not going to the village," I said sternly. "Go back to thehouse, Mademoiselle, and at once."

  "My servant!" she wailed. "Let me go! Oh, let me go! Do youthink I can rest here while they torture him? He cannot speak, andthey--they--"

  "Go back, Mademoiselle," I said, cutting her short, with decision."You would only make matters worse! I will go myself, and what one mancan do against many, I will! Louis, give your mistress your arm andtake her to the house. Take her to Madame."

  "But you will go?" she cried. Before I could stay her--I swear I wouldhave done so if I could--she raised my hand and carried it to hertrembling lips. "You will go! Go and stop them! Stop them," shecontinued, in a tone which stirred my heart, "and Heaven reward you,Monsieur!"

  I did not answer; nor did I once look back, as I crossed the meadow;but I did not look forward either. Doubtless it was grass I trod;doubtless the wood was before me with the sun shining aslant on it,and behind me the house with a flame here and there on the windows.But I went in a dream, among shadows; with a racing pulse, in a glowfrom head to heel; conscious of nothing but the touch ofMademoiselle's warm lips, seeing neither meadows nor house, nor eventhe dark fringe of wood before me, but only Mademoiselle's passionateface. For the moment I was drunk: drunk with that to which I had beenso long a stranger, with that which a man may scorn for years, to findit at last beyond his reach--drunk with the touch of a good woman'slips.

  I passed the bridge in this state; and my feet were among thebrushwood before the heat and fervour in which I moved found on asudden their direction. Something began to penetrate to my veiledsenses--a hoarse inarticulate cry, now deep, now shrilling horribly,which seemed to fill the wood. It came at intervals of half a minuteor so, and made the flesh creep, it was so full of dumb pain, ofimpotent wrestling, of unspeakable agony. I am a man and have seenthings. I saw the Concini beheaded, and Chalais ten years later--theygave him thirty-four blows; and when I was a boy I escaped fromthe college and viewed from a great distance Ravaillac torn byhorses--that was in the year ten. But the horrible cries I now heardfilled me, perhaps because I was alone and fresh from the sight
ofMademoiselle, with loathing that was intense. The very wood, thoughthe sun wanted an hour of setting, seemed to grow dark. I ran onthrough it, cursing, until the hovels of the village at length came insight. Again the shriek rose, a pulsing horror, and this time I couldhear the lash fall on the sodden flesh, I could see in fancy thestrong man, trembling, quivering, straining against his bonds. Andthen, in a moment, I was in the street, and, as the scream once moretore the air, I dashed round the corner by the inn, and came uponthem.

  I did not look at _him_. I saw Captain Larolle and the lieutenant, anda ring of troopers, and one man, bare-armed, teasing out with hisfingers the thongs of a whip. The thongs dripped blood, and the sightfired the mine. The rage I had suppressed when the lieutenant beardedme earlier in the afternoon, the passion with which Mademoiselle'sdistress had filled my breast, at last found vent. I sprang throughthe line of soldiers, and striking the man with the whip a buffetbetween the shoulders, which hurled him breathless to the ground, Iturned on the leaders. "You devils!" I cried. "Shame on you! The manis dumb! I tell you, if I had ten men with me, I would sweep you andyour scum out of the village with broomsticks. Lay on another lash," Icontinued recklessly, "and I will see if you or the Cardinal be thestronger."

  The lieutenant glared at me, his grey moustache bristling, his eyesalmost starting from his head. Some of the troopers laid their handson their swords, but no one moved, and only the captain spoke. "_Millediables!_" he swore. "What is all this about? Are you mad, Sir?"

  "Mad or sane!" I cried, still in a fury. "Lay on another lash, and youshall repent it."

  "I?"

  "Yes, you!"

  For an instant there was a pause of astonishment. Then to my surprisethe captain laughed--laughed loudly. "Very heroic!" he said. "Quitemagnificent, M. le Chevalier-errant. But you see, unfortunately, youcome too late!"

  "Too late!" I said incredulously.

  "Yes, too late," he replied, with a mocking smile. And the lieutenantgrinned too. "You see the man has just confessed. We have only beengiving him an extra touch or two, to impress his memory, and save usthe trouble of tying him up again."

  "I don't believe it," I said bluntly--but I felt the check, and fellto earth. "The man cannot speak."

  "No, but he has managed to tell us that he will guide us to the placewe want," the captain answered drily. "The whip, if it cannot find aman a tongue, can find him wits. What is more, I think, he will keephis word," he continued, with a hideous smile. "For I warn him that ifhe does not, all your heroics shall not save him! He is a rebel dog,and known to us of old, and I will flay his back to the bones--ay,until we can see his heart beating through his ribs--but I will havewhat I want--in your teeth, too, you d--d meddler."

  "Steady, steady!" I said, somewhat sobered. I saw that he wastelling me the truth. "He is going to take you to M. de Cocheforet'shiding-place, is he?"

  "Yes, he is!" the captain retorted offensively. "Have you anyobjection to make to that, Master Spy?"

  "None," I replied. "But I shall go with you. And if you live threemonths, I shall kill you for that name--behind the barracks at Auch,M. le Capitaine."

  He changed colour, but he answered me boldly enough. "I don't knowthat you will go with us. That is as we please," he continued, with asnarl.

  "I have the Cardinal's orders," I said sternly.

  "The Cardinal?" he exclaimed, stung to fury by this repetition of thename. "The Cardinal be--"

  But the lieutenant laid his hands on his lips, and stopped him."Hush!" he said. Then more quietly, "Your pardon, M. le Capitaine.Shall I give orders to the men to fall in?"

  The captain nodded sullenly.

  "Take him down!" the lieutenant ordered, in his harsh, monotonousvoice. "Throw his blouse over him, and tie his hands. And do you two,Paul and Lebrun, guard him. Michel, bring the whip, or he may forgethow it tastes. Sergeant, choose four good men and dismiss the rest totheir quarters."

  "Shall we need the horses?" the sergeant asked.

  "I don't know," the captain answered peevishly. "What does the roguesay?"

  The lieutenant stepped up to him. "Listen!" he said grimly. "Nod ifyou mean yes, and shake your head if you mean no. And have a care youanswer truly. Is it more than a mile to this place? The place you knowof?"

  They had loosened the poor wretch's fastenings, and covered his back.He stood leaning against the wall, his mouth still panting, the sweatrunning down his hollow cheeks; his sunken eyes were closed; a quivernow and again ran through his frame. The lieutenant repeated hisquestion, and, getting no answer, looked round for orders. The captainmet the look, and crying savagely, "Answer, will you, you mute!"struck the half-swooning miserable across the back with his switch.The effect was magical. Covered, as his shoulders were, the man sprangerect with a shriek of pain, raising his chin, and hollowing his back;and in that attitude stood an instant with starting eyes, gasping forbreath. Then he sank back against the wall, moving his mouthspasmodically. His face was the colour of lead.

  "_Diable!_ I think we have gone too far with him!" the captainmuttered.

  "Bring some wine!" the lieutenant replied. "Quick with it!"

  I looked on, burning with indignation, and wondering besides whatwould come of this. If the man took them to the place, and theysucceeded in seizing, Cocheforet, there was an end of the matter asfar as I was concerned. It was off my shoulders, and I might leave thevillage when I pleased; nor was it likely--since he would have hisman, though not through me--that the Cardinal would refuse me anamnesty. On the whole, I thought that I would prefer that thingsshould take that course; and assuming the issue, I began to wonderwhether in that event it would be necessary that Madame should knowthe truth. I had a kind of a vision of a reformed Berault, dead toplay and purging himself at a distance from Zaton's, winning, perhaps,a name In the Italian war, and finally--but, pshaw! I was a fool.

  However, be that as it might, it was essential that I should see thearrest made; and I waited patiently while they revived the torturedman, and made their dispositions. These took some time; so that thesun was down, and it was growing dusk, when we marched out, Clongoing first, supported by his two guards, the captain and Ifollowing,--abreast, and eyeing one another suspiciously,--thelieutenant, with the sergeant and five troopers, bringing up the rear.Clon moved slowly, moaning from time to time, and but for the aidgiven him by the two men with him, must have sunk down again andagain.

  He went out between two houses close to the inn, and struck a narrowtrack, scarcely discernible, which ran behind other houses, and thenplunged into the thickest part of the wood. A single person,traversing the covert, might have made such a track; or pigs, orchildren. But it was the first idea that occurred to us, and it put usall on the alert. The captain carried a cocked pistol, I held my sworddrawn, and kept a watchful eye on him; and the deeper the dusk fell inthe wood, the more cautiously we went, until at last we came out witha sort of jump into a wider and lighter path.

  I looked up and down it, and saw before me a wooden bridge, and anopen meadow, lying cold and grey in the twilight; and I stood inastonishment. It was the old path to the Chateau! I shivered at thethought that he was going to take us there, to the house--toMademoiselle!

  The captain also recognised the place, and swore aloud. But the dumbman went on unheeding, until he reached the wooden bridge. There hepaused as if in doubt, and looked towards the dark outline of thebuilding, which was just visible, one faint light twinkling sadly inthe west wing. As the captain and I pressed up behind him, he raisedhis hands and seemed to wring them towards the house.

  "Have a care!" the captain growled. "Play me no tricks, or--" But hedid not finish the sentence; for Clon turned back from the bridge,and, entering the wood on the left hand, began to ascend the bank ofthe stream. We had not gone a hundred yards before the ground grewrough, and the undergrowth thick; and yet through all ran a kind ofpath which enabled us to advance, dark as it was growing. Very soonthe bank on which we moved began to rise above the water, and grewsteep and rug
ged. We turned a shoulder, where the stream swept round acurve, and saw we were in the mouth of a small ravine, dark andsteep-walled. The water brawled along the bottom, over boulders andthrough chasms. In front, the slope on which we stood shaped itselfinto a low cliff; but half-way between its summit and the water, aledge, or narrow terrace, running along the face, was dimly visible.

  "Ten to one, a cave!" the captain muttered. "It is a likely place."

  "And an ugly one!" I sneered. "Which one to ten might safely hold forhours!"

  "If the ten had no pistols--yes!" he answered viciously. "But you seewe have. Is he going that way?"

  He was. "Lieutenant," Larolle said, turning and speaking in a lowvoice, though the chafing of the stream below us covered ordinarysounds, "shall we light the lanthorns, or press on while there isstill a glimmering of day?"

  "On, I should say, M. le Capitaine," the lieutenant answered. "Prickhim in the back if he falters. I will warrant he has a tender place ortwo!" the brute added, with a chuckle.

  The captain gave the word, and we moved forward; it being very evidentnow that the cliff-path was our destination. It was possible for theeye to follow the track all the way to it through rough stones andbrushwood; and though Clon climbed feebly and with many groans, twominutes saw us step on to it. It did not turn out to be the perilousplace it looked at a distance. The ledge, grassy and terrace-like,sloped slightly downwards and outwards, and in parts was slippery; butit was as wide as a highway, and the fall to the water did not exceedthirty feet. Even in such a dim light as now displayed it to us, andby increasing the depth and unseen dangers of the gorge, gave a kindof impressiveness to our movements, a nervous woman need not havefeared to breast it. I wondered how often Mademoiselle had passedalong it with her milk-pitcher.

  "I think we have him now!" Captain Larolle muttered, twisting hismustachios, and looking round to make his last dispositions. "Paul andLebrun, see that your man makes no noise. Sergeant, come forward withyour carbine, but do not fire without orders. Now, silence, all, andclose up, Lieutenant. Forward!"

  We advanced about a hundred paces, keeping the cliff on our left, thenturned a shoulder, and saw, a few paces in front of us, a black blotchstanding out from the grey duskiness of the cliff-side. The prisonerstopped, and raising his bound hands pointed to it.

  "There?" the captain whispered, pressing forward. "Is that the place?"

  Clon nodded. The captain's voice shook with excitement. "You tworemain here with him!" he muttered, in a low tone. "Sergeant, comeforward with me. Now, are you ready? Forward!"

  He and the sergeant passed quickly, one on either side of Clon and hisguards. The path was narrow here, and the captain passed outside. Theeyes of all but one were on the black blotch, the hollow in thecliff-side, and no one saw exactly what happened. But somehow, as thecaptain passed abreast of him, the prisoner thrust back his guards,and springing sideways, flung his unbound arms round Larolle's body,and in an instant swept him, shouting, to the verge of the precipice.

  It was done in a moment. By the time the lieutenant's startled witsand eyes were back, the two were already tottering on the edge,looking in the gloom like one dark form. The sergeant, who was thefirst to find his head, levelled his carbine; but as the wrestlerstwirled and twisted, the captain shrieking out oaths and threats, themute silent as death, it was impossible to see which was which; andthe sergeant lowered his gun again, while the men held back nervously.The ledge sloped steeply there; the edge was vague; already the twoseemed to be wrestling in mid-air,--and the mute was a man beyond hopeor fear.

  That moment of hesitation was fatal. Clon's long arms were round theother's arms, crushing them into his ribs; Clon's skull-like facegrinned hate into the other's eyes; his long limbs curled round himlike the folds of a snake. Suddenly Larolle's strength gave way. "Damnyou all! Why don't you--Mercy! mercy!" came in a last scream from hislips; and then, as the lieutenant, taken aback before, sprang forwardto his aid, the two toppled over the edge, and in a second hurtled outof sight.

  "_Mon Dieu!_" the lieutenant cried, in horror. The answer was a dullsplash in the depths below.

  He flung up his arms. "Water!" he said. "Quick, men, get down! We maysave him yet! They have fallen into water!"

  But there was no path, and night was come, and the men's nerves wereshaken. The lanthorns had to be lit, and the way to be retraced; andby the time we reached the dark pool which lay below, the last bubbleswere gone from the surface, the last ripples had beaten themselves outagainst the banks. True, the pool still rocked sullenly, and theyellow light showed a man's hat floating, and near it a glove threeparts submerged. But that was all. The mute's dying grip had known noloosening, nor his hate any fear. Later, I heard that when theydragged the two out next day, his fingers were in the other'seye-sockets, his teeth in his throat. If ever man found death sweet,it was he.

  As we turned slowly from the black water, some shuddering, somecrossing themselves, the lieutenant looked vengefully at me. "Curseyou!" he said, in sudden fury. "I believe you are glad!"

  "He deserved his fate," I answered coldly. "Why should I pretend to besorry? It was now or in three months. And for the other poor devil'ssake I am glad."

  He glared at me a moment, in speechless anger. At last, "I should liketo have you tied up!" he said, between his teeth.

  "I should have thought that you had had enough of tying up for oneday!" I retorted. "But there; it comes of making officers out of thecanaille. Dogs love blood. The teamster must still lash something, ifhe can no longer lash his horses."

  We were back, a sombre little procession, at the wooden bridge, when Isaid this. He stopped suddenly. "Very well," he replied, noddingviciously, "That decides me. Sergeant, light me this way with alanthorn. The rest of you to the village. Now, Master Spy," hecontinued, glancing at me with gloomy spite, "your road is my road. Ithink I know how to cook your goose."

  I shrugged my shoulders in disdain, and together, the sergeant leadingthe way with the light, we crossed the meadow, and passed through thegate where Mademoiselle had kissed my hand, and up the ghostly walkbetween the rosebushes. I wondered uneasily what the lieutenant wouldbe at, and what he intended; but the lanthorn light which now fellon the ground at our feet, and now showed one of us to the other,high-lit in a frame of blackness, discovered nothing in his grizzledface but settled hostility. He wheeled at the end of the walk to goto the main door; but as he did so, I saw the flutter of a whiteskirt by the stone seat against the house, and I stepped that way."Mademoiselle," I said softly, "is it you?"

  "Clon?" she muttered, her voice quivering. "What of him?"

  "He is past pain," I answered gently. "He is dead, but in his own way.Take comfort, Mademoiselle." And then before I could say more, thelieutenant with his sergeant and light were at my elbow. He salutedMademoiselle roughly. She looked at him with shuddering abhorrence.

  "Are you come to flog me, Sir?" she said icily. "Is it not enough thatyou have murdered my servant?"

  "On the contrary, it was he killed my captain," the lieutenantanswered, in another tone than I had expected. "If your servant isdead, so is my comrade."

  She looked with startled eyes, not at him, but at me. "What! CaptainLarolle?" she muttered.

  I nodded.

  "How?" she asked.

  "Clon flung the captain and himself into the river-pool," I explained,in a low voice. "The pool above the bridge."

  She uttered an exclamation of awe, and stood silent. But her lipsmoved; I think she was praying for Clon, though she was a Huguenot.Meanwhile I had a fright. The lanthorn, swinging in the sergeant'shand, and now throwing its smoky light on the stone seat, now on therough wall above it, showed me something else. On the seat, doubtlesswhere Mademoiselle's hand had lain, as she sat in the dark, listeningand watching, stood a pitcher of food. Beside her, in that place, itwas damning evidence. I trembled lest the lieutenant's eye should fallupon it, lest the sergeant should see it; I thought what I could do tohide it; and then in a moment I forgot all ab
out it. The lieutenantwas speaking, and his voice was like doom. My throat grew dry as Ilistened. My tongue stuck to my mouth; I tried to look atMademoiselle, but I could not.

  "It is true, the captain is gone," he said stiffly. "But others arealive, and about one of them, a word with you,--by your leave,Mademoiselle. I have listened to a good deal of talk from this finegentleman friend of yours. He has spent the last twenty-four hourssaying, 'You shall!' and 'You shall not!' He came from you, and took avery high tone because we laid a little whip-lash about that dumbdevil of yours. He called us brutes and beasts, and but for him I amnot sure that my friend would not be alive. But when he said a fewminutes ago that he was glad,--glad of it, damn him!--then I fixed itin my mind that I would be even with him. And I am going to be!"

  "What do you mean?" Mademoiselle asked, wearily interrupting him. "Ifyou think you can prejudice me against that gentleman--"

  "That is precisely what I do think! And I am going to do it. And alittle more than that!"

  "You will be only wasting your breath!" she answered proudly.

  "Wait! wait, Mademoiselle, until you have heard!" he said. "If ever ablack-hearted scoundrel, a dastardly, sneaking spy, trod the earth, itis this fellow! This friend of yours! And I am going to expose him.Your own eyes and your own ears shall persuade you. Why, I would noteat, I would not drink, I would not sit down with him! I would not! Iwould rather be beholden to the meanest trooper in my squadron than tohim! Ay, I would, so help me Heaven!" And the lieutenant, turningsquarely on his heels, spat on the ground.