CHAPTER VI.
WHAT THE PERIL WAS
It seemed to me like a sob of despair, or of the breaking down ofpatience, and, knowing what I did already, I quickly imagined it toproceed from the Countess in a moment when she was beginning to losehope of Monsieur de Merri's arrival. To me, therefore, it seemed a stabof reproach.
I judged that it came by way of the window below me. So forthwith, atall hazards, sheltering myself from outside view as well as I could withthe casement, I thrust my head out over the sill, and said in a lowtone:
"Madame."
I waited for some moments, with a beating heart, and then called again,"Madame."
I thought I heard whispering below. Then a head was thrust out of thewindow--a woman's head, soft haired and shapely. "Here I am," Iwhispered. The head twisted round, and the face was that of the youngwoman who had received the messenger at the postern the day before. Butit was clear that she had not been sobbing, though her face wore a lookof concern.
"I must speak with Madame the Countess," said I, and added what Ithought would most expedite matters: "I bring news of Monsieur deMerri."
The head disappeared: there was more whispering: then the maid lookedout again, using similar precautions to mine with regard to thecasement.
"Who are you, Monsieur?" she asked.
"I will explain all later. There is little time now. I may soon belooked for. Contrive to let me have an interview with Madame theCountess. I don't know how to get to her: I'm not acquainted with thechateau."
"Put your head a little further out, Monsieur,--so that I can see yourface."
I obeyed. She gazed at me searchingly, then withdrew her head again.Reappearing very soon, she said: "Madame has decided to trust you. Theseare her apartments. There is a door from a gallery where pictureshang--"
"I have been to that gallery," I interrupted, "but I was watched whilethere. Is there no other way?"
She thought a moment. "Yes, the garden. At the foot of the terrace, turnto the right, till you get to the end of this wing."
"But the man at the steps yonder will stop me. He has done so already."
"That beast! Alas, yes! Well, I will go and talk with him, and keep himlooking at me. You go down to the terrace without attracting anyattention, walk close to the house till you get to this end of thebalustrade, step over the balustrade, descend the bank as quietly aspossible, and wait behind the shrubbery near the door at the end of thiswing,--it's the door from Madame's apartments to the garden. Do youunderstand?"
"Perfectly."
"Then I will be talking to that man by the time you can get to theterrace. I go at once. Be quick, Monsieur,--and careful."
Admiring the swift wits and decision of the girl, I hastened through thecorridor, down the stairs, and into the hall. The Count and thelong-nosed man were so buried in their game that neither looked up. Apair of varlets in attendance were yawning on a bench. Yawning inimitation, I passed with feigned listlessness to the terrace, wentnoiselessly along by the house-wall, and followed the wing to the end ofthe balustrade. I did not venture even to look toward the steps, but Icould hear the maid talking and laughing coquettishly. I crossed thebalustrade by sitting on it and swinging my legs over: then strode onlight feet down the grassy bank and through an opening in the shrubberyI saw at my right. I found myself in a walk which, bordered all the wayby shrubbery, ran from a narrow door in the end of the wing to the otherextremity of the garden. The door, when I first glanced at it, wasslightly ajar: I supposed the maid had left it so. But as soon as I hadcome to a halt in the walk, the door opened, and a very young, veryslender, very sad-faced, very beautiful lady came out, with eyes turnedupon me in a mixture of hope and fear.
I instinctively fell upon my knee before that picture of grief andbeauty. She wore, I remember, a gown of faded blue, and blue was thecolour of her eyes--a soft, fair blue, like that of the sky. She was soslim, sorrowful, small, childlike, forlorn,--I would have died to serveher.
She looked at me searchingly, as the maid had done, but with morecourtesy, and then, in a low voice bidding me follow her, led the waydown the walk and into a side path that wound among some tallrose-bushes. Here we could not be seen from the walk and yet we mighthear anybody approaching. She stopped and faced me.
"You have news of Monsieur de Merri," she said eagerly. "What of him?"
"He is prevented from coming to you, Madame."
Her face, pale before, turned white as a sheet.
"But," I hastened to add, "I have come in his stead, and I will serveyou as willingly as he."
"But that will not do," she said, in great agitation. "Nobody can serveme at this pass _but_ Monsieur de Merri. Where is he? What preventshim?"
"I left him at La Fleche," said I lamely. "I assure you it is utterlyimpossible for him to come. But believe me, I am wholly yours forwhatever service you desired of him. You can see that I have come fromhim." I took from my pocket her note, and held it out. I then told hermy name and parentage, and begged her not to distrust me because I wasof another religion than hers.
"It isn't that I don't believe you, Monsieur," she replied. "It isn'tthat I doubt your willingness to help me."
"As to my ability, try me, Madame. My zeal will inspire me."
"I don't doubt your ability to do brave and difficult things, Monsieur.But it is not that. It happens--the circumstances are such--alas, nobodybut Monsieur de Merri himself can help me! If you but knew! If _he_ butknew!"
"Tell me the case, Madame. Trust me, I beg. Let me be the judge as towhether I can help you."
"I do trust you. I am not afraid to tell you. You will see plainlyenough. It is this: I have been slandered to my husband. A week has beengiven me in which to clear myself. The week ends to-morrow. If I havenot proved my innocence by that time, God knows what fate my husbandwill inflict upon me!"
She shuddered and closed her eyes.
"But your innocence, Madame--who can doubt it?"
"My husband is a strange man, Monsieur. He has little faith in women."
"But what slander can he believe of you? And who could utter it? What isits nature?"
"I suppose it is my husband's friend, Captain Ferragant, who uttered it.The nature of it is, that Monsieur de Merri's name is associated withmine. Monsieur de Merri is said to have made a boast about me, in thetavern at Montoire. It is a hideous lie, invented when Monsieur de Merrihad gone away. And now you see how only Monsieur de Merri can save me,by coming and facing our accusers and swearing to my innocence. Butto-morrow is the last day. Oh, if he had known why I wanted him! It istoo late now--or is it? Perhaps he sent you ahead? Perhaps he is comingafter you? Is it not so? He will be here to-morrow, will he not?"
Bitterly I shook my head.
"Then I am lost," she said, in a whisper of despair.
"But that cannot be. It isn't for you to prove your innocence--it is foryour accuser to prove your guilt. He cannot do that."
"You do not know the Count de Lavardin. He will believe any ill of awoman, and anything that Captain Ferragant tells him. The fact thatMonsieur de Merri is young and accomplished is enough. My husband hassuspected me from the hour of our marriage. And besides that, people atMontoire have testified that they heard Monsieur de Merri boast ofconquests. Whether that be true or not, it could not have been of methat he boasted. And if he but knew how I stand, how readily he wouldfly to clear me! He is no coward, I am sure."
I had evidence of that: evidence also of Monsieur de Merri's unfortunatehabit of boasting of conquests. But I was convinced that it could nothave been of her that he had boasted. These thoughts, however, were buttransient flashings across my sense of the plight in which I had putthis unhappy woman by killing Monsieur de Merri. I tried to minimizethat plight.
"But your fears are exaggerated. Your husband will not dare go too far."
"He will dare take my life--or lock me up for the rest of my days in adungeon--or I know not what. He is all-powerful on his estate--lord oflife and death. You know wh
at these great noblemen do when they believetheir wives unfaithful. I have heard how the Prince de Conde--"
"Yes; but the Count de Lavardin would have your relations to fear."
"I have no relations. I was an orphan in a convent. The Count took afancy to my face, they told me. They urged me to consent to themarriage. I could not displease them--I had never disobeyed them. Andnow this is the end. Well, I am in the hands of God." She glancedupwards and gave a sigh of bitter resignation.
"But after all," I interposed, "you are not certain how your husbandwill act."
"He has threatened the worst vengeance if I cannot clear myselfto-morrow. If you knew him, Monsieur!"
"He allowed you a week, you say.--"
"From the day he accused me--last Saturday."
"And what facilities did he give you for the purpose?"
"His men and horses were at my service. He knew, of course, that all Icould do was to send for Monsieur de Merri."
"But why did he not send for Monsieur de Merri?"
"I don't know. I suppose he was ruled by the advice of CaptainFerragant. Perhaps he thought Monsieur de Merri would not come at hisrequest."
"But you did not use your husband's men and horses to send for Monsieurde Merri."
"No. Mathilde--my maid whom you saw just now--thought I would better actsecretly. She feared the Captain would bribe the messenger to make onlya pretence of taking my message to Monsieur de Merri. In that caseMonsieur de Merri, knowing nothing, would not come, and his not comingwould be taken as evidence of guilt--as it will be now, though he got mymessage, for Hugues is faithful. Why is it, Monsieur, that Monsieur deMerri sent back word by Hugues that he would follow close, if he couldnot come?"
"Something happened afterward. Hugues, then, is the name of themessenger you sent?"
"Yes. He is devoted to Mathilde. They are accustomed to meet at certaintimes. Mathilde has not much freedom, as you may guess, sharing my lifeas she does. So she contrived to get possession for awhile of the key toa postern yonder, and to pass it to Hugues when he came with flour. Hehad a duplicate made, so that she could restore the original and yetretain a key with which to let herself out and meet him in the forest.Thus she was able to see him last Sunday morning, and to send him afterMonsieur de Merri. We knew that De Merri had started Westward, andHugues traced him from town to town. Ah, when Hugues returnedsuccessful, how rejoiced we were! We expected Monsieur de Merri everyhour. But the time went by, and our hopes changed to fears, and now,heaven pity me, it is the fears that have come true!"
"But you are not yet lost. Even if the Count should be so blind as tothink you guilty, you have at least one resource. You have the key tothe postern. You can flee."
"And be caught before I had fled two leagues. I am visited every threehours, as if I were a prisoner, and as soon as I was missed a score ofmen would be sent in all directions. Besides, for some reason or other,the Count has the roads watched from the tower. If I fled into theforest, the bloodhounds would be put on my track. My husband has hintedall this to me. And where could I flee to but the Convent? The Countwould have men there before I could reach it."
"I could find some other place to take you to," said I at a hazard.
"Ah, Monsieur, then indeed would appearances be against me. Then indeedwould the enemy of my poor reputation have his triumph. Alas, there isno honourable place in this world for a wife who leaves her husband'sroof, though it be her prison. I will be true to my vows, though I die.If there be wrong, it shall be all of his doing, none of mine."
"You believe it is this Captain who has slandered you. Why should he dothat? Why is he your enemy?"
She blushed and looked down. I understood.
"But why do you not tell your husband that?" I asked quickly.
"The Count says it is an old story that wives accuse their husbands'friends whom they dislike. He thinks women are made of lies. And in anycase he says if I am innocent of this charge I can prove my innocence.So all depended on Monsieur de Merri's being here to-morrow to speak forme."
"Ah, Madame, if only my speaking for you would avail anything!"
"From the depths of my heart I thank you, Monsieur, though you see howuseless you--And yet there is one thing you can say for me!" A greatlight of sudden hope dawned upon her face. "You can tell how you sawMonsieur de Merri--that he was coming here, but was prevented--"
"Yes, I can do that."
"And perhaps--who knows?--you can induce the Count to give me a few moredays, till the cause of Monsieur de Merri's delay is past. And then youcan ride or send to Monsieur de Merri, and tell him my situation, and hewill come and put my accuser to shame, after all! Yes, thank God, thereis hope! Oh, Monsieur, you may yet be able to save me!"
There were tears of joy on her face, and she gratefully clasped my handin both of hers.
It sickened my heart to do it, but I could only shake my head sadly andsay:
"No, Madame, Monsieur de Merri can never come to speak for you."
"Why not?" she cried, all the hope rushing out of her face again.
"He is dead--slain in a duel." I said in a voice as faint as a whisper.
Her face seemed to turn to marble.
"Who killed him?" she presently asked in a horrified tone.
I knelt at her feet, with averted eyes, as one who is all contrition butdare not ask a pardon.
"You!" she whispered.
"When I found this message upon him afterward," said I, "I saw whatinjury was done. I could only come in his place, and offer myself. Byone means and another, I learned who it was had sent for him."
"That brave young gentleman," said she, following her own thoughts;"that he should die so soon! And you, with his blood on yourhands."--she drew back from me a step--"come to offer your service to mewho, little as I was to him, must yet be counted among his friends!Monsieur, what could you think of my loyalty?"
"I thought only of what might be done to prevent further harm. Though Ifought him, I was not his enemy. I had never seen him before. It was asudden quarrel, about nothing. Heaven knows, I did not think it wouldend as it did. That end has been lamentable enough, Madame. Punish me ifyou will: as his friend, you are entitled to avenge him."
"I only pity him, Monsieur. God forbid I should think of revenge!"
"You are a saint, Madame. I was about to say that my having killed himneed not make you reject my service. Your doing so might but add to theevil consequences of my act. Surely he would prefer your accepting myaid, now that he is for ever powerless to give his. And we must thinknow of something to be done--"
"WE WERE INTERRUPTED BY A LOW CRY."]
We were interrupted by a low cry, "Madame, Madame!" in a soft voice fromwithin the arbour that sheltered the walk. The Countess said to me, "Itis Mathilde. She means some one is coming. Hide among these bushes. Ifwe do not meet again, adieu, Monsieur; I thank you from my heart, andmay God pardon you the death of Monsieur de Merri!"
She started for the walk: I whispered, "But I must help you! Can we notmeet again presently?"
"I know not," she replied. "Act as you think best, Monsieur. But do notendanger yourself. I must be gone now."
She hastened to join the maid, whose whereabouts were indicated by a lowcough. I heard voices, and instantly crawled under the rose bushes,heedless of scratches. As the voices came down the walk, one of themturned out to be that of Captain Ferragant. There was but one other,which I took, from the talk which I heard later, to belong to a falconeror some such underling. The Captain addressed a few remarks to theCountess, as to her state of health and the beauty of the day, which sheanswered in low tones. Then he and his companion proceeded to walkabout, talking continually, never getting entirely out of my hearing,and often coming so near that I could make out their words. It seemedthat an endless length of time passed in this way. I heard no more ofMadame and the maid. Finally the Captain and his man walked back towardthe house. I rose, stretched my legs, and peered up and down the walk.It was deserted. What was I to do next? I
naturally strolled toward thechateau. As I neared the door leading to Madame's apartments, out cameMathilde.
"I have been watching for you, Monsieur. Madame had to come in, to avoidsuspicion. If you can get back to the terrace by the way you came down,I will go again and distract the attention of the guard."
"I can do that. But what of Madame? I must see her again. We must findsome way to save her."
"Do what you can, Monsieur. If you think of anything, you know how tocommunicate with us by way of the windows. But lose no time now."
She hastened away to beguile the man on watch at the steps. When I heardher laughter, I sped over the grass to the foot of the bank. I clamberedup, crossed the balustrade, went along the house, and entered the hall.Monsieur de Pepicot was just in the act of saying "Checkmate."
The Count's face turned a shade more ashen, and he looked unhappy.Presently he smiled, however, and said peevishly:
"Well, you must give me an opportunity of revenge. We must play anothergame."
"I shall be much honoured," said Monsieur de Pepicot. "But is there timeto-day?"
"No; it will soon be supper time. But there will be time to-morrow. Youshall stay here to-night."
"With great pleasure; but there are some poor things of mine at thecabaret yonder I should like to have by me."
"I will send a man for your baggage," said the Count.
"Then I shall have nothing to mar my happiness," said Monsieur dePepicot composedly.
I was very anxious to remain at the chateau for the present, and fearedrather dismissal than the enforced continuance there which thelong-nosed man had fancied might be our fate. So, to make sure, I said:
"If Monsieur the Count will do me the honour of a game to-morrow, I willtry to make a better contest than I did against Monsieur de Pepicot."
The Count looked not displeased at this; it gave him somebody to beat inthe event of his being again defeated by Monsieur de Pepicot.
"Certainly," said he; "I cannot refuse you. You too will remain myguest; and if I may send for your baggage also--"
I felt vaguely that it would be better to leave my horse and belongingsat the inn at Montoire, in case I should ever wish to make a stealthydeparture from the chateau; so I replied:
"I thank you, Monsieur; but there is nothing I have urgent need for, orof such great value that I would keep it near."
"As you please," said the Count, observing me keenly with hishalf-ambushed eyes.
The man who had escorted us to the chateau was sent to fetch Monsieur dePepicot's baggage; and would have brought his horse also, but thatMonsieur de Pepicot mildly but firmly insisted otherwise and despatchedorders for its care in his absence. The baggage consisted of a somewhatsorry looking portmanteau, which was taken to our chamber. We then hadsupper, during which the Count and my long-nosed friend talked of chessplay, while Captain Ferragant ate in frowning silence, now and thencasting no very tolerant glances at us two visitors. I would have triedby conversation to gain some closer knowledge of this man, but I sawthere was no getting him to talk while that mood lasted. After supperthe Count and the Captain sat over their wine in a manner which showed along drinking bout to be their regular evening custom. Monsieur dePepicot and I accompanied them as far as our position as guestsrequired. We then plead the fatigue of recent travel, and were shown toour room, in which an additional bed had been placed. The Count was bythis time sufficiently forward in his devotions to Bacchus to dispenseeasily with such dull company as ours, and the Captain, by the freebreath he drew as we rose to go, showed his relief at our departure.
When the servant had placed our candles and left us alone, I expressed awonder why so great a house could not afford us a room apiece.
"It is very simple," said the long-nosed man, opening his portmanteau."If they should take a fancy to make caged birds of us, it's easiertending one cage than two."
I went to bed wondering what the morrow had in store. I saw now clearlythat I might accomplish something by informing the Count that Monsieurde Merri was dead and that he was on his way to Lavardin when I met him.His failure to appear could not then be held as evidence of guilt: hisintention to come might count much in the Countess's favour.
As my head sank into the pillow, there came suddenly to my mind thesecond of the three maxims Blaise Tripault had learned from the monk:
"_Never sleep in a house where the master is old and the wife young._"
The Bright Face of Danger Page 6
