CHAPTER XVII.
SWORD AND DAGGER
M. de la Chatre could not have been more surprised if a spirit had risenfrom the floor at his feet. He stared at me with startled eyes. I hadsheathed my sword while behind the curtains, and now I stood motionless,with folded arms, before him. Mademoiselle uttered a slight cry.Montignac, who stood beside her, was as much taken aback as La Chatrewas, but was quicker to comprehend the situation. Without moving from hisattitude of surprise, he regarded me with intense curiosity and hate.This was his first sight of me, hence his curiosity. He had alreadyinferred that mademoiselle loved me, therefore his hate.
"Who are you?" said La Chatre, at last, in a tone of mingled alarm andresentment, as one might address a supernatural intruder.
"The Sieur de la Tournoire," said I, "standing face to face with you inthe chateau of Clochonne! You shall give mademoiselle that order for herfather's release, or you shall never break your word again."
And I drew my sword, and held it with its point towards his breast.
The fear of death blanched his cheeks and spurred his dull wits.
"Montignac," he cried, keeping his eyes fixed on mine, "if this man makesa move, kill the woman!"
In his situation of peril, his mind had become agile. He had suddenlyperceived how things were between mademoiselle and me.
As I have shown, Montignac stood with mademoiselle at some distance fromLa Chatre and myself. I dared not take my eye from the governor, lest heshould step out of reach of my sword; but I could hear Montignac quicklyunsheathe his dagger, and mademoiselle give a sharp ejaculation of pain.Then I turned my head for a moment's glance, and saw that he had caughther wrist in a tight grasp, and that he held his dagger ready to plungeit into her breast.
For a short time we stood thus, while I considered what to do next. Itwas certain that Montignac would obey the governor's order, if only outof hatred for me and in revenge on her for his despised love, though hemight fall by my sword a moment later. Therefore, I did not dare go toattack him any more than I dared attack La Chatre. The governor, ofcourse, would not let her be killed unless I made some hostile movement,for if she were dead nothing could save him from me, unless help came. Hefeared to call for help, I suppose, lest rather than be taken I shouldrisk a rush at Montignac, and have himself for an instant at my mercy,after all.
I cast another glance at Montignac, and measured the distance from me tohim, to consider whether I might reach him before he could strikemademoiselle. La Chatre must have divined my thought, for he said:
"Montignac, I will deal with this gentleman. Take mademoiselle into thatchamber and close the door." And he pointed to the door immediatelybehind mademoiselle, the one by which I had first seen her enter.
"But, monsieur--" began Montignac.
"I had not quite finished, Montignac," went on La Chatre. "I have myreason for desiring you and the lady to withdraw. Fear not to leave mewith him. Lame as I am, I am no match for him, it is true, butmademoiselle shall continue to be a hostage for his good behavior."
"I understand," said Montignac, "but how shall I know--?"
"Should M. de la Tournoire make one step towards me," said thegovernor,--here he paused and took up the hunting-horn and looked at it,but presently dropped it and pointed to the bowl of fruit on the tablenear the fireplace,--"I shall strike this bowl, thus." He struck thebowl with his stick, and it gave forth a loud, metallic ring, like thatpreviously produced by Montignac's dagger from the tray on the othertable. "The voice is not always to be relied on," continued the governor."Sometimes it fails when most needed. But a sound like this," and hestruck the bowl again, "can be made instantly and with certainty. Shouldyou hear one stroke on the bowl,--one only, not followed quickly by asecond stroke,--let mademoiselle pay for the rashness of her champion!"
"Yes, monsieur," replied Montignac, a kind of diabolical triumph inhis voice.
"It may be," said La Chatre, "that no such violent act will be necessary,and that I shall merely require your presence here. In that case, I shallstrike twice rapidly, thus. Therefore, when you hear a stroke, wait aninstant lest there be a second stroke. But if there be no second, act asI have told you."
"After you, mademoiselle," said Montignac, indicating by a motion hisdesire that she should precede him backward out of the chamber. He stillclutched her arm and held his dagger aloft, intending thus to back out ofthe room after her.
"I will not go!" she answered, trying to resist the force that he wasusing on her arm.
This was the first resistance she had offered She had previously stoodmotionless beneath his lifted dagger, feeling herself unable to breakfrom his grasp of iron, and supposing that any effort to do so wouldbring down the dagger into her delicate breast. A woman's instinctivehorror of such a blow deterred her from the slightest movement that mightinvite it. She had trusted to me for what action might serve to save usfrom our enemies. But now her terror of leaving my presence, and herhorror of being alone with Montignac, overcame her fear of the dagger. "Iwill not go!" she repeated.
"Go, mademoiselle," said I, gently, taking her glove from my belt, whereI had placed it, and kissing it, to show that I was still her devotedchevalier. "Go! 'Tis the better way." For I welcomed any step that mighttake Montignac from the chamber, and leave La Chatre's wit unaided tocope with mine.
Her eyes showed submission, and she immediately obeyed the guidanceof Montignac's hand. Facing me still, he went out after her, andclosed the door.
I was alone with La Chatre.
"My secretary stood a little too near the point of your sword," said thegovernor, "for the perfect security of my hostage. There was just apossibility of your being too quick for him. I saw that you werecontemplating that possibility. As it is now, should I give him thesignal,--as I shall if you move either towards me or towards thatchamber,--he could easily put mademoiselle out of the way before youcould open the door. Not that I desire harm to mademoiselle. Her deathwould not serve me at all It would, indeed, be something that I shouldhave to deplore. If I should deplore it, how much more would you! Andsince you surely will not be so ungallant as to cause the death of socharming a lady, I think I have you, let us say, at a slightdisadvantage!" And he sat down beside the table near the fireplace.
"I think not so, monsieur," said I, touching lightly with my sword'spoint the tray on the table near the bed; "for should you strike once onyour bowl, I should very quickly strike once on this tray, so that twostrokes would be heard, and the obedient Montignac, mindful of hisorders, would enter this chamber, _not_ having slain mademoiselle."
I ought not to have disclosed this, my advantage. I ought rather to havesummoned Montignac by two strokes on the tray, and been at the door toreceive him. But I had not waited to consider. I spoke of the advantageas soon as I noticed it, supposing that La Chatre, on seeing it, wouldthink himself at my mercy and would come to my terms. He was taken backsomewhat, it is true, but not much.
"Pah!" he said "After all, I could shout to him."
"It would be your last shouting. Moreover, your shouted orders would becut off unfinished, and the punctilious Montignac would be left in doubtas to your wishes. Rather than slay mademoiselle on an uncertainty, hewould come hither to assure himself,--in which case God pity him!"
"Thank you for your warning, monsieur," said La Chatre, with mockcourtesy. "There shall be no shouting."
Whereupon he struck the bowl with his stick. Taken by surprise, I couldonly strike my tray with my sword, so that two strokes might surely beheard, although at the same time he gave a second stroke, showing thathis intention was merely to summon Montignac. In my momentary fear formademoiselle's life, and with my thoughts instantly concentrated onstriking the tray, I did not have the wit to leap to the door and receiveMontignac on my sword's point, as I would have done had I myself summonedhim, or had I expected La Chatre's signal.
So there I stood, far from the door, when it opened, and the secretaryadvanced his foot across the threshold. Even then I made a
movement as ifto rush on him, but he brought forward his left hand and I saw that itstill clutched the white wrist of mademoiselle. Only her arm was visiblein the doorway. Montignac still held his dagger raised. One stepbackward and one thrust, and he could lay her dead at his feet. Had Ibeen ready at the door for him, I could have killed him before he couldhave made these two movements; but from where I stood, I could not havedone so. So I listened in some chagrin to the governor's words.
"I change the signal, Montignac. At one stroke, do not harm the lady, butcome hither; but should you hear two strokes, or three, or any numbermore, she is to be sacrificed."
"My dagger is ready, monsieur!"
Again the door closed; again I was alone with La Chatre.
I had lost my former advantage. For now, should I strike my trayonce, for the purpose of summoning Montignac, so that I might be atthe door to slay him at first sight, the governor could strike hisbowl, and Montignac would hear two strokes or more--signal formademoiselle's death.
"And now, monsieur," said the governor, making himself comfortable in hischair between table and fireplace, "let us talk. You see, if you approachme or that door, or if you start to leave this chamber, I can easilystrike the bowl twice before you take three steps."
I could see that he was not as easy in his mind as he pretended to be. Itwas true that, as matters now were, his life was secure through my regardfor mademoiselle's; but were he to attempt leaving the room or callinghelp, or, indeed, if help were to come uncalled, and I should find my ownlife or liberty threatened, I might risk anything, even mademoiselle'slife, for the sake of revenge on him. He would not dare save himself byletting me go free out of his own chateau. To do that would bring downthe wrath of the Duke of Guise, would mean ruin. That I knew well. If Ishould go to leave the chamber, he would give the signal for Montignac tokill mademoiselle. As for me. I did not wish to go without her or until Ishould have accomplished a certain design I had conceived. Thus I was LaChatre's prisoner, and he was mine. Each could only hope, by thought ortalk, to arrive at some means of getting the better of the other.
La Chatre's back was towards the door by which I had entered. By merechance, it seemed, I turned my head towards that door. At that instant,my man, Frojac, appeared in the doorway. He had approached with thesilence of a ghost. He carried the arquebus that had belonged to theguardsman, and his match was burning. Risking all on the possible effectof a sudden surprise on the governor, I cried, sharply:
"Fire on that man, Frojac, if he moves."
La Chatre, completely startled, rose from his chair and turned about,forgetful of the stick and bowl. When his glance reached Frojac, my goodman had his arquebus on a line with the governor's head, the matchdangerously near the breech.
"I have looked after the guards, monsieur," said Frojac, cheerily,"both of them."
"Stand where you are," said I to him, "and if that gentleman attempts tostrike that bowl, see that he does not live to strike it more than once."
"He shall not strike it even once, monsieur!"
"You see, M. de la Chatre," said I, "the contents of an arquebus travelfaster than a man can."
"This is unfair!" were the first words of the governor, after his seasonof dumb astonishment.
"Pardon me," said I. "It is but having you, let us say, at a slightdisadvantage; and now I think I may move."
I walked over to the governor's table and took up the bowl. La Chatrewatched me in helpless chagrin, informing himself by a side glance thatFrojac's weapon still covered him.
"You look somewhat irritated and disgusted, monsieur," said I. "Praysit down!"
As I held my sword across the table, the point in close proximity to hischest, he obeyed, uttering a heavy sigh at his powerlessness. I thenthrew the bowl into the bed, taking careful aim so that it might make nosound. At that moment I saw La Chatre look towards the chamber in whichwere Montignac and mademoiselle, and there came on his face the sign ofa half-formed project.
"See also, Frojac," said I, "that he does not open his mouth to shout."
"He shall be as silent as if born dumb, monsieur."
"Oh, he may speak, but not so loud as to be heard in the next chamber.Look to it, Frojac."
"Very well, monsieur."
For I did not wish, as yet, that Montignac should know what was going on.Through the closed door and the thick tapestried walls, only a loud cry,or some such sound as a stroke on the resonant bowl or tray, could havereached him. We had spoken in careful tones, La Chatre not daring toraise his voice. Thus the closing of the door, intended by the governorto make Montignac safer from a sudden rush on my part, now served my ownpurpose. It is true that, since Frojac had appeared, and the governorcould not make his signal, I might have summoned Montignac by a singlestroke, and despatched him in the doorway. But now that my own positionwas easier, I saw that such a manoeuvre, first contemplated when only adesperate stroke seemed possible, was full of danger to mademoiselle. Imight bungle it, whereupon Montignac would certainly attempt one blowagainst her, though it were his last. I must, therefore, use the governorto release her from her perilous situation; but first I must use him foranother purpose, which the presence of the keen-witted Montignac mightdefeat. Hence, the secretary was not yet to be made aware of the turnthings had taken.
There were three quills on the table. I took up one of them and dipped itin the horn of ink.
"Shall I tell you of what you are thinking, monsieur," said I, observingon the governor's face a new expression, that of one who listens andmakes some mental calculation.
"Amuse yourself as you please, monsieur," he answered.
"You are thinking, first, that as I am in your chateau, and not alone, Ihave, doubtless, deprived you of all the soldiers left to guard yourchateau; secondly, that at a certain time, a few hours ago, your troopsset out for my residence; that they have probably now learned that I amnot there; that they have consequently started to return. You are askingyourself what will happen if I am here when they arrive. Will I kill youbefore I allow myself to be taken? Probably, you say. Men like me valuethemselves highly, and sell themselves dearly. You would rather that Ileave before they come. Then you can send them on my track. Very well;write, monsieur!" And I handed him the pen.
He looked at me with mingled vindictiveness and wonder, as if it wereremarkable that I had uttered the thoughts that any one in his positionmust have had. Mechanically he took the pen.
"What shall I write?" he muttered.
"Write thus: To M. de Brissard, governor of Fleurier. Release M. deVarion immediately. Let him accompany the man who bears this and whobrings a horse for him."
With many baitings, many side glances at Frojac's arquebus and mysword-point, many glum looks and black frowns, he wrote, while I watchedfrom across the table. Then he threw the document towards me.
"Sign and seal," I said, tossing it back to him.
With intended slovenliness he affixed the signature and seal, then threwthe pen to the floor. I took the order, scanned it, and handed himanother pen.
"Excellent!" said I. "And now again!"
He made a momentary show of haughty, indignant refusal, but a movement ofmy sword quelled the brief revolt in him.
"The bearer of this," I dictated, "M. de Varion, is to pass free in theprovince, and to cross the border where he will."
This time he signed and affixed the seal without additional request. Hethrew the second pen after the first, and looked up at me with a scowl.
"A bold, brave signature, monsieur! There is one pen left!" and I handedhim the third quill.
He took it with a look of wrath, after which he gave a sigh of forcedpatience, and sat ready to write.
"The bearer of this, Ernanton de Launay--"
"Ernanton de Launay?" he repeated, looking up inquiringly.
"Ernanton de Launay, Sieur de la Tournoire,--" I went on.
He stared at me aghast, as if my presumption really passed all bounds,but a glint of light on my sword caught his eye, he carried
his eye alongto the point, which was under his nose, and he wrote:
"--is to pass free in the province, and from it, with all his company."
"No, no, no! I will never write that!"
Without an instant's hesitation, I drew back my sword as if to add weightto an intended thrust. He gasped, and then finished the pass, signed it,and attached the seal.
"Be assured," I said, as I took up the last order, "these will be usedbefore you shall have time to countermand them." He gritted his teeth atthis. "I thank you heartily, monsieur, and shall ask you to do no morewriting. But one favor will I claim,--the loan of a few gold pieces forM. de Varion. Come, monsieur, your purse has ever been well fed!"
With a look of inward groaning, he negligently handed me some pieces, notcounting them.
"_Parbleu!_" he said. "You will ask me for my chateau next."
"All in good time. It is a good jest, monsieur, that while you visit meat Maury by proxy, I return the visit at Clochonne in person and findyour chateau unguarded. To complete the jest, I need only takepossession. But I am for elsewhere. Frojac, come here."
While Frojac approached, I held my sword ready for any movement onthe part of my unhappy adversary, for I saw him cast a furtive lookat the tray on the other table, and I read on his face the birth ofsome new design.
Rapidly I gave Frojac my commands, with the gold and the two ordersfirst written.
"Take this order immediately, with my horse and your own, to the chateauof Fleurier. Secure M. de Varion's release, and fly with him at once fromthe province, leaving by the western border, so that you cannot possiblybe forestalled by any troops or counter-orders that this gentleman maysend from here. Make your way speedily to Guienne."
"And in Guienne, monsieur?"
"You will doubtless find me at the camp of Henri of Navarre. As soon asyou see M. de Varion, assure him of the safety of his daughter. And nowto horse!"
"I am already on my way, monsieur!" And the good fellow ran from thechamber and down the stairs. In a few moments I heard the horsesclattering out of the courtyard and over the bridge. Pleased at his zealand swiftness, I stepped to the window to wave him a godspeed. I thusturned my back towards La Chatre.
Frojac saw me and waved in response, as he dashed down the moonlit waytowards the road to Fleurier.
I heard a stealthy noise behind me, and, turning, saw what made mefiercely repent my momentary forgetfulness and my reliance on thegovernor's lameness. The sight revealed plainly enough what new idea hadcome into La Chatre's mind,--simply that, if he should give the signalfor mademoiselle's death, I would probably not stay to attack him, butwould instantly rush into the next chamber in the hope of saving her. Hecould then fasten the door, and so hold me prisoner in that chamber untilthe return of his troops. Well for us that he had not thought of thisbefore the arrival of Frojac!
He was already near the table on which was the tray, when I turned andsaw him. He raised his stick to strike the tray. I rushed after him.
He brought down his stick. The tray sounded, loud and bell-like. He heardme coming, and raised his stick again. The second clang would be thedeath-knell of my beloved!
But my sword was in time, my arm served. The blade met the descendingstick and knocked it from the governor's grasp. The same rush that tookme between La Chatre and the table carried me across the chamber to aspot at one side of the door which Montignac at that moment threw open.
"You struck once, did you not, monsieur?" said Montignac, not seeing me,for he naturally looked towards the centre of the chamber.
He held mademoiselle's wrist in his left hand, his dagger in his right. Iwas at his right side. I was too near him to use my sword with effect, soI contented myself with stepping quickly behind him and bringing my fistdown on his left arm above the elbow. This unexpected blow made himinvoluntarily release mademoiselle's wrist, and informed him of mywhereabouts. The impulse of self-preservation caused him to rush forwardand turn. I then stepped in front of mademoiselle and faced him. Allthis, from my turning from the window, was done in a moment.
"And now, M. de la Chatre," said I, "you may strike the bowl as often asyou please."
"M. de la Chatre," said Montignac, in a quick, resolute voice, "give meleave to finish this!"
"As you will, Montignac!" replied the governor, moving towards thewindow. His movement betrayed his thought. If his troops should return inthe next few minutes, I would be too busy with Montignac to attackhimself. There were two hopes for him. One was that, by some miracle,Montignac might kill or wound me. The other was that the troops mightreturn before I should have finished with Montignac. La Chatre haddoubtless inferred that I had brought with me none of my men but Frojac;therefore I alone was to be feared.
Montignac, keeping his eyes fixed on me, transferred his dagger to hisleft hand, and drew his sword with his right. I, with my sword already inmy right hand, drew my dagger with my left.
"Monsieur," said I to Montignac, "I see with pleasure that you are nota coward."
"You shall see what you shall see, monsieur!" he answered, in the voiceof a man who fears nothing and never loses his wits.
It was, indeed, a wonder that this man of thought could become soadmirable a man of action. There was nothing fragile in this palestudent. His eyes took on the hardness of steel. Never did moreself-reliant and resolute an antagonist meet me. The hate that wasmanifest in his countenance did not rob him of self-possession. It onlystrengthened and steadied him. At first I thought him foolhardy to faceso boldly an antagonist who wore a breastplate, but later I found that,beneath his jerkin, he was similarly protected. I suppose that he hadintended to accompany the troops to Maury, had so prepared himself forbattle, and had not found opportunity, after the change of intention, todivest himself.
Conscious of mademoiselle's presence behind me, I stood for a momentawaiting the secretary's attack. In that moment did I hear, or but seemto hear, the sound of many horses' footfalls on the distant road? I didnot wait to assure myself. Knowing that, if the governor's troops hadindeed found Maury abandoned, and had returned, quick work wasnecessary, I attacked at the same instant as my adversary did. As Iwould no more than disable an antagonist less protected than myself, Imade to touch him lightly in his right side; but my point, tearing awaya part of his jerkin, gave the sound and feel of metal, and thus Ilearned that he too wore body armor. I was pleased at this; for now wewere less unequal than I had thought, and I might use full force. He hadtried to turn with his dagger this my first thrust, but was not quickenough, whereas my own dagger caught neatly the sword-thrust that hemade simultaneously with mine.
"Oh, M. de Launay!" cried mademoiselle, behind me, in a voice of terror,at the first swift clash of our weapons.
"Fear not for me, mademoiselle!" I cried, catching Montignac's bladeagain with my dagger, and giving a thrust which he avoided byleaping backward.
"Good, Montignac!" cried La Chatre, looking on from the window. "Hecannot reach you! If you cannot kill him, you may keep him engaged tillthe troops come back!"
"I shall kill him!" was Montignac's reply, while he faced me with setteeth and relentless eyes.
"Listen, monsieur!" cried mademoiselle. "If you die, I shall die withyou!" And she ran from behind me to the centre of the chamber, where Icould see her.
"And if I live?" I shouted, narrowly stopping a terrible thrust, andstepping back between the table and the bed.
"If we live, I am yours forever! Ernanton, I love you!"
At last she had confessed it with her lips! For the first time, she hadcalled me by my Christian name! My head swam with joy.
"You kill me with happiness, Julie!" I cried, overturning the tabletowards Montignac to gain a moment's breath.
"I shall kill you with my sword!" Montignac hurled the words throughclenched teeth. "For, by God, you shall have no happiness with her!"
His white face had an expression of demoniac hate, yet his thrusts becamethe more adroit and swift, his guard the more impenetrable and firm. His
body was as sinuous as a wild beast's, his eye as steady. The longer hefought, the more formidable he became as an adversary. He was worth ascore of Vicomtes de Berquin.
"Ernanton," cried mademoiselle, "you know all my treachery!"
"I know that you would have saved your father," I answered, leapingbackward upon the bed, to avoid the secretary's impetuous rush; "andthat I have saved him, and that, God willing, we shall soon meet himin Guienne!"
"If he meets you, it will be in hell!" With this, Montignac jumped uponthe bed after me, and there was some close dagger play while I turned toback out between the posts at the foot.
At this moment La Chatre gave a loud, jubilant cry, and mademoiselle,looking out of the window, uttered a scream of consternation.
"The troops at last!" shouted La Chatre. "Hold out but another minute,Montignac!"
So then I had heard aright. Alas, I thought, that the river road to Mauryshould be so much shorter than the forest road; alas, that the governor'stroops should have had time to return ere Blaise had reached the junctionof the roads!
"My God, the soldiers have us in a trap!" cried mademoiselle, while Icaught Montignac's dagger-point with a bed-curtain, and stepped backwardfrom the bed to the floor.
"And mademoiselle shall be mine!"
As he uttered these words with a fiendish kind of elation, Montignacleaped from the bed after me, releasing his dagger by pulling the curtainfrom its fastening, while at the same time his sword-point, directed atmy neck, rang on my breast-plate.
"You shall not live to see the end of this, monsieur!" I replied,infuriated at his premature glee.
And, having given ground a little, I made so quick an onslaught that, insaving himself, he fell back against a chair, which overturned and tookhim to the floor with it.
"Help, monsieur!" he cried to La Chatre, raising his dagger just in timeto ward off my sword.
The governor now perceived the sword that stood by the fireplace, took itup, and thrust at me. Mademoiselle, who, in her distress at the sight ofthe troops, had run to the _prie-dieu_ and fallen on her knees, saw LaChatre's movement, and, rushing forward, caught the sword with both handsas he thrust. I expected to see her fingers torn by the blade, but ithappened that the sword was still in its sheath, a fact which in ourexcitement none of us had observed; so that when La Chatre tried to pullthe weapon from her grasp he merely drew it from the sheath, whichremained in her hands. By this time I was ready for the governor.
"Come on!" I cried. "It is a better match, two against me!"
And I sent La Chatre's sword flying from his hand, just in time to guardagainst a dagger stroke from Montignac, who had now risen. Julie snatchedup the sword and held the governor at bay with it.
For some moments the distant clatter of galloping horses had been rapidlyincreasing.
"Quick!" shouted La Chatre through the window to the approaching troops."To the rescue!"
And he stood wildly beckoning them on, but keeping his head turnedtowards Montignac and me, who both fought with the greatest fury. For Isaw that I had found at last an antagonist requiring all my strength andskill, one with whom the outcome was not at all certain.
The tumult of hoofs grew louder and nearer.
"Ernanton, fly while we can! The soldiers are coming!"
Mademoiselle threw La Chatre's sword to a far corner, ran to the doorleading from the stairway landing, closed it, and pushed home the bolt.
"They are at the gate! They are entering!" cried the governor, joyously."Another minute, Montignac!"
There was the rushing clank of hoofs on the drawbridge, then from thecourtyard rose a confused turbulence of horses, men, and arms.
Again my weapons clashed with Montignac's. Julie looked swiftly around.Her eye alighted on the dagger that lay on one of the chairs. She drew itfrom its sheath.
"If we die, it is together!" she cried, holding it aloft.
There came a deadened, thumping sound, growing swiftly to great volume.It was that of men rushing up the stairs.
"To the rescue!" cried La Chatre. "But one more parry, Montignac!"
There was now a thunder of tramping in the hall outside the door.
"Ay, one more--the last!" It was I who spoke, and the speech was truth. Ileaped upon my enemy, between his dagger and his sword, and buried mydagger in his neck. When I drew it out, he whirled around, clutchedwildly at the air, caught the curtain at the window, and fell, with thequick, sharp cry:
"God have mercy on me!"
"Amen to that!" said I, wiping the blood from my dagger.
A terrible pounding shook the door, and from without came cries of"Open." Mademoiselle ran to my side, her dagger ready for her breast. Iput my left arm around her.
"And now, God have mercy on _you_!" shouted La Chatre, triumphantly; forthe door flew from its place, and armed men surged into the chamber,crowding the open doorway.
"Are we in time, my captain?" roared their leader, looking from thegovernor to me.
And La Chatre tottered back to the fireplace, dumbfounded, for the leaderwas Blaise and the men were my own.
Julie gave a glad little cry, and, dropping her dagger, sank to her kneesexhausted.
"Good-night, monsieur!" I said to La Chatre. "We thank you for yourhospitality!"
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE RIDE TOWARDS GUIENNE
I ordered the men to return to the courtyard, and, supporting Julie, Ifollowed them from the chamber, leaving M. de la Chatre alone with hischagrin and the dead body of his secretary.
In the hall outside the governor's chamber, we found Jeannotte and Hugo,for Blaise had brought them with him, believing that we would not returnto Maury. The gypsies had accompanied him as far as Godeau's inn, wherewe had first met them. He had even brought as much baggage and provisionsas could be hastily packed on the horses behind the men. The only humanbeings left by him at Maury were the three rascals who had soblunderingly served De Berquin, but he had considerately unlocked thedoor of their cell before his departure.
I begged mademoiselle to rest a while in one of the chambers contiguousto the hall, and, when she and Jeannotte had left us, I told Blaise asmuch of the truth as it needed to show mademoiselle as she was. I thenexplained why he had found the draw-bridge down, the gate open, thechateau undefended. He grinned at the trick that fate had played on ourenemies, but looked rather downcast at the lost opportunity of meetingthem at Maury.
"But," said he, looking cheerful again, "they will come back tothe chateau and find us here, and we may yet have some lively workwith them."
"Perchance," I said, "for I fear that mademoiselle cannot endure anotherride to-night. If she could, I would start immediately for Guienne. Ourwork in Berry is finished."
"Then you shall start immediately," said a gentle but resolute voicebehind me. Mademoiselle, after a few minutes' repose, had risen and cometo demand that no consideration for her comfort should further imperilour safety.
"But--" I started to object.
"Better another ride," she said, with a smile, "than another risking ofyour life. I swear that I will not rest till you are out of danger. It isnot I who most need rest."
She looked, indeed, fresh and vigorous, as one will, despite bodilyfatigue, when one has cast off a heavy burden and found promise of newhappiness. When a whole lifetime of joy was to be won, it was no time totarry for the sake of weary limbs.
So it was decided that we should start at once southward, not restinguntil we should be half-way across the mountains. As for my belatedforagers, we should have to let them take their chances of rejoiningus; and some weeks later they did indeed arrive at the camp inGuienne with rich spoil, having found Maury given over to the owlsand bats as of yore.
The men cheered for joy at the announcement that we were at last torejoin our Henri's flying camp. In the guard-house we found Pierre andthe other guardsman, both securely bound by Frojac. We released Pierreand sent him to his mistress. I put Blaise at the head of my company, andwe set forth, half of the troop go
ing first, then mademoiselle and I,then Jeannotte and the two boys, and lastly the other half of my force.Looking back, I saw the lighted window of the governor's chamber, thatwindow whence I had looked out at Frojac and whence La Chatre hadmistakenly taken my men for his own. Doubtless he still sat in hischamber, dazed and incapable of action, for after leaving him alone thereI neither saw nor heard him. Nor did we see any more troops or anyservants about the chateau. Some hasty scampering in distant apartments,after the entrance of my men, was the only indication of inhabitants thatwe had received. If there were other troops in the chateau than the sixwe had disposed of, they followed the example of the servants and layclose. As for the soldiers at the town guard-house, they must have heardmy men ride to the chateau, but they had wisely refrained from appearingbefore a force greater than their own. I shall never cease to marvel thatthe very night that took me and my men to Clochonne by one road took LaChatre's guards and the town garrison to Maury by another.
When I sent Blaise to the head of the troops, I told him to set a goodpace, for the governor's men had indeed had time sufficient to have goneto Maury, discovered their mistake, and come back, so much shorter is theriver road than the forest way. There was a likelihood, therefore, oftheir reaching the point of junction, on their return, at any minute, andI wished to be past that point and well up the mountain-side before theyshould do so.
Julie rode very close to me, and as soon as we were out of the gate shebegan in a low tone to speak of a thing that required no more explanationto me; yet I let her speak on, for the relief of her heart. So, in a fewminutes, as we rode with the soldiers in the night, she eased her mindforever of the matter.
"When I received word in Bourges," she said, "that my father was inprison, I thought that I would die of grief and horror. They would notlet me see him, told me that his crime of harboring a Huguenot was agrave one, that he had violated the King's edict, and might be chargedeven with treason. The thought of how he must suffer in a dungeon wasmore than I could endure. Only M. de la Chatre, they told me, could orderhis release. La Chatre had left Fleurier to go northward. I started afterhim, not waiting even to refresh my horses. When we reached the inn atthe end of the town, I had become sufficiently calm to listen to Hugo'sadvice that it would be best to bait the horses before going further. Ibegan to perceive, too, that myself and Jeannotte needed some nourishmentin order to be able to go on a journey. Thus it happened that I stoppedat the inn where La Chatre himself was. He had not gone immediately northfrom Fleurier, but had been visiting an estate in the vicinity, and itwas on regaining the main road that he had tarried at the inn, withoutreentering the town. I had never seen him, but the girl at the inn toldme who he was.
"When I fell on my knees, and told him how incapable my father was ofharm or disloyalty, he at first showed annoyance, and said that mypleading would be useless. My father must be treated as an example, hesaid. To succor traitors was treason, to shield heretics was heresy, andthere was no doubt that the judges would condemn him to death, to furnishothers a lesson. He was then going to leave me, but his secretary cameforward and said that I had come at an opportune moment, an instrumentsent by Heaven. Was I not, he asked the governor, some one who had muchto gain or much to lose? Then La Chatre became joyful, and said thatthere was a way--one only--by which I might free my father. Eagerly Ibegged to know that way, but with horror I refused it when I learned thatit was to--to hunt down a certain Huguenot captain, to make him trust me,and to betray him. For a time I would not hear his persuasions. Then heswore that, if I did not undertake this detestable mission, my fathershould surely die; and he told me that you were a deserter, a traitor, anenemy to the church and to the King, I had heard your name but once ortwice, and I remembered it only as one who had worked with daring andsecrecy in the interests of the Huguenots. He described my fathertortured and killed, his body hanging at the gates of Fleurier, blown bythe wind, and attacked by the birds. Oh, it was terrible! All this couldbe avoided, my father's liberty regained, by my merely serving the Kingand the church. He gave his word that, if I betrayed you, my fathershould be released without even a trial. You can understand, can you not?You were then a stranger to me, and my father the most gentle and kindlyof men, the most tender and devoted of fathers."
"I understood already when I stood behind the curtain,sweetheart," said I.
"When you came," she went on, "and asked whither I was bound, I made myfirst attempt at lying. I wonder that you did not perceive myembarrassment and shame when I said that the governor had threatened toimprison me if I did not leave the province. It was the best pretext Icould give for leaving Fleurier while my father remained there in prison,though they would not let me see him. It occurred to me that you mustthink me a heartless daughter to go so far from him, even if it were,indeed, to save my life."
"I thought only that you were an unhappy child, of whose inexperience andfears the governor had availed himself; and that, after all, was thetruth. From the first moment when I knew that you were the daughter of M.de Varion, I was resolved to attempt his rescue; but I kept my intentionfrom you, lest I might fail."
"Oh, to think that all the while I was planning your betrayal, you wereintending to save my father! Oh, the deception of which I was guilty!What constant torture, what continual shame I felt! Often I thought I hadbetrayed myself. Did you not observe my agitation when you firstmentioned the name of La Tournoire, and said that you would take me tohim. I wonder that you did not hear my heart say, 'That is the man I amto betray!' And how bitter, yet sweet, it was to hear you commiserate mydejection, which was due in part to the shame of the treacherous task Ihad undertaken. It seemed to me that you ought to guess its cause, yetyou attributed it all to other sources. What a weight was on me while werode towards Clochonne, the knowledge that I was to betray the man whom Ithen thought your friend,--the friend of the gentleman who protected meand was so solicitous for my happiness! How glad I was when you told methe man was no great friend of yours, that you would sacrifice him forthe sake of the woman you loved! After all, I thought you might notloathe me when you should learn that I had betrayed him! Yet, to performmy task in your presence, to make him love me--for I was to do that, ifneeds be and it could be done--while you were with me, seemed impossible.This was the barrier between us, the fact that I had engaged to betrayyour friend, and you can understand now why I begged that you would leaveme. How could I play the Delilah in your sight? It had been hard enoughto question you about La Tournoire's hiding-place. And when I learnedthat you were La Tournoire himself, whom I had already half betrayed insending Pierre to La Chatre with an account of your hiding-place; thatyou whom I already loved--why should I not confess it?--were the manwhom I was to pretend to love; that you who already loved me were the manwhom I was to betray by making him love me,--oh, what a moment that was,a moment when all hope died and despair overwhelmed me! Had I known fromthe first that you were he, I might have guarded against loving you--"
"And well it is," said I, interrupting, "that for a jest and a surprise Ihad kept that knowledge from you! Else you might indeed have--"
"Oh, do not think of it!" And she shuddered. "But you are right. Lovealone has saved us. But at first even the knowledge that you were LaTournoire, and that none the less I loved you, did not make me turn back.If my duty to my father had before required that I should sacrifice you,did my duty not still require it? Did it make any change in my duty thatI loved you? What right had I, when devoted to a task like mine, to loveany one? If I had violated my duty by loving you, ought I not todisregard my love, stifle it, act as if it did not exist? I had to forgetthat I was a woman who loved, remember only that I was a daughter. Myfilial duty was no less, my proper choice between my father and anotherwas not altered by my having fallen in love. I must carry my horribletask to the end. What a night of struggle was that at the inn, after Ihad learned that the appointed victim was you! And now it was necessarythat you should not leave me; therefore I spoke no more of the barrierbetween us. I fortified my
self to hide my feelings and maintain mypretence. Surely you noticed the change in me, the forced composure andcheerfulness. How I tried to harden myself!
"And after that the words of love you so often spoke to me, what blissand what anguish they caused me! I was to have made you love me, but youloved me already. I ought to have rejoiced at this, for the success thatit promised my purpose. Yet, it was on that account that I shuddered atit; and if it did give me moments of joy it was because it was pleasantto have your love. My heart rose at the thought that I was loved by you,and fell at the thought that your love was to cause your death. Often,for your own sake, I wished that I might fail, that you would not loveme; yet for my father's sake I had to wish that I should succeed, had tobe glad that you loved me. To make you fall the more easily into thehands of your enemies, I had to show love for you. How easy it was toshow what I felt; yet what anguish I underwent in showing it, when bydoing so I led you to death! The more I appeared to love you, the moretruly I disclosed my heart, yet the greater I felt was my treason! I donot think any woman's heart was ever so torn by opposing motives!"
"My beloved, all that is past forever!"
"In my dreams at Maury, we would be strolling together among roses, undercloudless skies, nothing to darken my joy. Then I would see you wounded,the soldiers of the governor gathered around you and laughing at myhorror and grief. I would awake and vow not to betray you, and then Iwould see my father's face, pale and haggard, and my dead mother's wetwith tears for his misery and supplicating me to save him!"
"My poor Julie!"
"And to-night,--yes, it was only to-night, it seems so long ago,--whenyou held my hand on the dial, and plighted fidelity, what happiness Ishould have had then, but for the knowledge of my horrible task, of thedeath that awaited you, of the treason I was so soon to commit! For I andJeannotte had already arranged it, Hugo was soon to be sent to La Chatre.And then came De Berquin. For telling only the truth of me, you killedhim as a traducer. So much faith you had in me, who deserved so little! Icould endure it no longer! Never would I look on your face again withthat weight of shame on me. God must send other means of saving myfather. They demanded too much of me. I would, as far as I could, makemyself worthy of your faith, though I never saw you again. Yet I couldnot betray La Chatre. He had entrusted me with his design, and,detestable as it was, I could not play him false in it. But I could atleast resign the mission. And I went, to undo the compact and claim backmy honor! I little guessed that he would make use, without my knowledge,of the information I had sent him of your hiding-place. It seemed that,even though La Chatre did know your hiding-place, God would not let yoube taken through me if I refused to be your betrayer."
"And so it has turned out," I said, blithely, "and now I no longer regrethaving kept from you my intention of attempting your father's release.For had I told you of it, and events taken another course, that attemptmight have failed, and it would perhaps have cost many lives, whereas theorder that I got from La Chatre this night is both sure and inexpensive.But for matters having gone as they have, I should not have been enabledto get that order. Ha! What is this!"
For Blaise had suddenly called a halt, and was riding back to me as iffor orders.
"Look, monsieur!" and he pointed to where the river road appeared frombehind a little spur at the base of the mountains. A body of horsemen wascoming into view. At one glance I recognized the foremost riders asbelonging to the troop I had seen four hours before.
"The devil!" said I. "La Chatre's soldiers coming back from Maury!"
We had ridden down the descent leading from the chateau along the townwall, and had left the town some distance behind, so that the mountainsnow loomed large before us. But we had not yet passed the place where theroads converged.
"If we can only get into the mountain road before they reach this one, weshall not meet them," I went on. "Forward, men!"
"But," said Blaise, astonished and frowning, but riding on besideme, "they will reach this road before we pass the junction. Do youwish them to take us in the flank? See, they have seen us and arepressing forward!"
"If we reach our road in time, we shall lead them a chase. Go to the headand set the pace at a gallop!"
"And have them overtake us and fall on our rear?"
"You mutinous rascal, don't you see that they are three times our number?We stand better chance in flight than in fight! But, no, you are right!They are too near the junction. We must face them. I shall go to thehead. Julie, my betrothed, I must leave you for a time. Roquelin andSabray shall fall behind with you, Jeannotte, and the two boys."
"I shall not leave your side!" she said, resolutely.
"Oh, mademoiselle!" cried Jeannotte, in a great fright.
"You may fall back, if you like," said Julie to her. "I shall not."
All this time we were going forward and the governor's troops wererapidly nearing the junction. We could now plainly hear the noise theymade, which, because of that made by ourselves, we had not heard sooner.They were looking at us with curiosity, and were evidently determined tointercept us.
"Julie, consider! There may be great danger."
"If you are endangered, why should not I be? This is not the night,Ernanton, on which you should ask me to leave you."
"Then I shall at least remain here," said I. "Go to the head, Blaise. Butif there is a challenge, I shall answer it. Perhaps they will not know usand we can make them think we are friends."
He rode forward with sparkling eyes, although not before casting oneglance of solicitude at Jeannotte, who did not leave her mistress.
The men eagerly looked to their arms as they rode, and they exchangedconjectures in low, quick tones, casting many a curious look at theapproaching force. Julie and I kept silence, I wondering what would bethe outcome of this encounter.
Suddenly, when the head of their long, somewhat straggling line had justreached the junction, and Blaise was but a short distance from it, camefrom their leader--La Chatre's equerry, I think--the order to halt, andthen the clear, sharp cry:
"Who goes there?"
Before I could answer, a familiar voice near their leader cried out:
"It is his company,--La Tournoire's,--I swear it! I know the big fellowat the head."
The voice was that of the foppish, cowardly rascal of De Berquin's band.I now saw that the three fellows left by Blaise at Maury were held asprisoners by the governor's troops. Poor Jacques, doubtless, thought toget his freedom or some reward for crying out our identity.
"I shall wring your neck yet, lap-dog!" roared Blaise.
All chance of passing under false colors was now gone. A battle withthrice our force seemed imminent. What would befall Julie if they shouldbe too much for us? The thought made me sick with horror. At that instantI remembered something.
"Halt!" I cried to the men. "I shall return in a moment, sweetheart.Monsieur, the captain," and I rode forward towards the leader of thegovernor's troops, "your informant speaks truly. Permit me to introducemyself. I am the Sieur de la Tournoire, the person named in that order."With which I politely handed him the pass that I had forced from LaChatre, which I had for a time forgotten.
It was about three hours after midnight, and the moon was not yet verylow. The captain, taken by surprise in several respects, mechanicallygrasped the document and read it.
"It is a--a pass," he said, presently, staring at it and at me in abewildered manner.
"As you see, for myself and all my company," said I; "signed by M. dela Chatre."
"Yes, it is his signature."
"His seal, also, you will observe."
"I do. Yet, it is strange. Certain orders that I have received,--in fact,orders to which I have just been attending,--make this very surprising. Icannot understand--"
"It is very simple. While you were attending to your orders, I was makinga treaty with M. de la Chatre. In accordance with it, he wrote the pass.He will, doubtless, relate the purport of our interview as soon as youreturn to the chateau. I know that h
e is impatient for your coming.Therefore, since you have seen the pass, I shall not detain you longer."
"But--I do not know--it is, indeed, the writing of M. de la Chatre--itseems quite right, yet monsieur, since all is right, you will notobject to returning with me to the chateau that M. de la Chatre mayverify his pass?"
"Since all is right, there is no use in my doing so; and it would be mostannoying to M. de la Chatre to be asked to verify his own writing,especially as the very object of this pass was to avoid my being delayedon my march this night."
The captain, a young and handsome gentleman, with a frank look and acourteous manner, hesitated.
"Monsieur will understand," I went on, "that every minute we stand hereopposes the purpose for which that pass was given."
"I begin to see," he said, with a look of pleasurable discovery. "Youhave changed sides, monsieur? You have repented of your errors and haveput your great skill and courage at the service of M. de la Chatre?"
"It is for M. de la Chatre to say what passed between us this evening,"said I, with a discreet air. "Then _an revoir_, captain! I trust we shallmeet again."
And I took back the pass, and ordered my men forward, as if the youngcaptain had already given me permission to go on. Then I saluted him, andreturned to Julie. The captain gazed at us in a kind of abstraction as wepassed. His men were as dumbfounded as my own. His foremost horsemen hadheard the short conversation concerning the pass, and were, doubtless, asmuch at a loss as their leader was. When we were well in the mountainroad, I heard him give the order to march, and, looking back, I saw themturn wearily up the road to the chateau. We continued to put distancebetween ourselves and Clochonne.
On the northern slope of the mountains, we made but one stop. That was atGodeau's, where we had a short rest and some wine. I gave the goodMarianne a last gold piece, received her Godspeed, and took up our march,this time ignoring the forest path to Maury, following the old roadsouthward instead. It would be time to set up our camp when we should beout of the province of Berry.
It was while we were yet ascending the northern slope of the mountains,and the moon still shone now and then from the west through the trees,that we talked, Julie and I, of the time that lay before us. It matterednot to me under which form our marriage should be. One creed was to meonly a little the better of the two, in that it involved less ofsubjection, but if the outward profession of the other would facilitateour union, I would make that profession, reserving always my sword and mytrue sympathies for the side that my fathers had taken. But when Iproposed this, Julie said that I ought not even to assume the appearanceof having changed my colors, and that it was for her, the woman, toadopt mine, therefore she would abjure and we should be married asProtestants. She could answer for the consent of her father, who couldnot refuse his preserver and hers. It pleased me that she made no mentionof her lack of dowry, for their little estate would certainly beconfiscated after her father's flight. Judging my love by her own, sheknew that I valued herself alone above all the fortunes in the world. Wewould, then, be united as soon as her father, guided by Frojac, shouldjoin us in Guienne. She and her father should then go to Nerac, there toawait my return from the war that was now imminent; for I was to continueadvancing my fortunes by following those of our Henri on the field. Someday our leader would overcome his enemies and mount the throne that thefated Henri III.--ailing survivor of three short-lived brothers--wouldsoon leave vacant. Then our King would restore us our estates, I shouldrebuild La Tournoire, and there we should pass our days in the peace thatour Henri's accession would bring his kingdom. Blaise should marryJeannotte and be our steward.
So we gave word to our intentions and hopes, those that I have herewritten and many others. Some have been realized, and some have not, butall that I have here written have been.
Once, years after that night, having gone up to Paris to give our twoeldest children a glimpse of the court, we were walking through thegallery built by our great Henri IV., to connect the Louvre with theTuileries, when my son asked me who was the painted fat old lady that wasstaring so hard at him as if she had seen him before. In turn I asked theAbbe Brantome, who happened to be passing.
"It is the Marquise de Pirillaume," he said. "She was a gallant lady inthe reign of Henri III. She was Mlle. d'Arency and very beautiful."
I turned my eyes from her to Julie at my side,--to Julie, as fair andslender and beautiful still as on that night when we rode together withmy soldiers towards Guienne, in the moonlight.
THE END.
An Enemy to the King Page 17
