CHAPTER XXI
THE OLD HAG
Every man has his weak points, even the strongest, and it will oftenhappen that the greatest weaknesses are to be found in the strongestmen. The very characteristics which make them great in one directiontend to make them contemptible in another.
It had never occurred to Roger Herrick that he was in any way a hero;he had merely played a man's part in the circumstances which hadforced him into a prominent position, and so far he was a strong man;but he entirely overlooked the fact that others could not possiblyjudge his actions from the same standpoint as he did himself, andherein he was weak. Pride and obstinacy fastened themselves upon him.He had fully intended to give an explanation to Christine, and becauseshe was not ready to applaud his actions, he remained silent. He lovedher with the sudden strong passion of a man who has not frittered awayhis affections by playing at love with many women, and he obstinatelyresented her outspoken criticism, while pride stepped in and made himplay the tyrant. He became conscious of his own strength, and wouldbend her to his will. She must recognize that he was right and thatshe was wrong. Out of her knowledge of him she must learn not tomisunderstand him. The Herricks had always been proud and self-willed,and it was perhaps hardly wonderful that the family trait shouldforcibly show itself now.
It was unfortunate for the country that the man's self-will wasopposed to an equally strong will in the woman. She, too, was proud,and since she had been kept in the dark it was only natural that sheshould suppose Herrick's ambition had triumphed over every otherconsideration. A woman loves a man for what she believes him to be,and in Christine's case the proud woman had bent to a humble thoughbrave suitor. She was prepared to give much, but it must be pleadedfor. Now it was demanded of her by a man who, having promised to serveher, had merely used her as a stepping-stone to power. She could nothate him even now, although she told herself that she did, but he mustsuffer, he must recognize her power, no matter what the consequencesto herself might be. She found the means ready to her hand in theschemes of Father Bertrand, who, although he had not divulged to herhis true and ultimate aim, had persuaded her that the actions hesuggested were for the good of the country. It was an appeal whichwent straight to her heart, and in her present state of mind nosacrifice was too great.
The savage instinct lies latent in us all, and it was well thatHerrick had little time to brood over his trouble. The pressingaffairs of the state called forth all his energies, and the dangerswhich surrounded and threatened him brought out all that was best inhis character. The fact that he was Duke absorbed him, and theindividuality of Roger Herrick, the English country gentleman, wasswallowed up in the wider personality of the Ruler of Montvilliers. Hewas a changed man, and while the dwarf missed something in the newman, Gaspard Lemasle rejoiced in the Duke he served. The captain knewthat he was a fighter and a man of resource; he now understood thathe was a strategist, a statesman, and a born leader of men.
The rumors from the frontier grew each day more definite. The enemywas gathered there ready for invasion. Any day news might come thatthe frontier had been crossed, and the Duke's actions were eagerlywatched. His enemies said he was afraid to move from Vayenne, that hewould not be able to get even the semblance of an army to follow him,while even his friends wondered how he could extricate himself fromhis difficulties.
The Dukes of Montvilliers had ever been autocrats, asking advice butseldom, and Herrick, even if he had wished to be otherwise, was forcedinto the same position. To none did he explain all his thoughts andactions. Only Jean knew that Pierre Briant and the charcoal-burnerswere searching for the hag. Only Lemasle knew what steps he had takento meet the dangers that threatened on the frontier. Only de Bornaishad been his counsellor in other matters, and he had encouraged FatherBertrand to visit Christine and bring her to reason. He had notattempted to see her again himself.
Jean was alone with him when news came from Pierre Briant.
"Sir, we found her lying on a heap of dead leaves in the most solitarydepths of the forest," said the soldier.
"She cursed us for not leaving her to die in peace. She was ill, ofthat there was no doubt, and we carried her to the charcoal-burners'hut. She is still alive, but Briant thought it would not do to bringher to Vayenne. The journey would probably kill her."
"We will come to her to-morrow," said Herrick. "Hasten back at once,and tell Pierre Briant to treat her well, and keep her alive."
The man saluted, and went out.
"So we are not contented with the difficulties we have, friend Roger,but go quickly to raise up others," said Jean.
"We try to be honest," was the careless answer, "but it's a difficultworld to be honest in."
"Ay; even our friends stand in the way," said the dwarf. "You'll haveto choose between your friends and honesty some day."
"I am going to try and satisfy both." And the dwarf laughed as Herricksent for de Bornais and Lemasle.
They entered the room together, Lemasle expecting orders that had beenlong waited for, de Bornais a little disturbed in his mind, as wasnatural to a man holding such a secret as he did.
"It is time that the threatened danger on the frontier should bebrought to a definite issue," said Herrick. "Lemasle, we marchto-night. De Bornais, we leave the city in your charge. We must keepwhat men are necessary to defend the castle and the town, but as fewas possible must remain. We shall have need of all the men we cancommand. Arrange it with Captain Lemasle. At the first sight of riotin the city, deal firmly with it, de Bornais. The men who would plotand rise against us when their country's freedom is at stake, deservelittle mercy."
"I will defend the town," said de Bornais, and perhaps he hatedhimself a little for the deceit he practised, for he added: "Your armymust be small, my lord; is it wise to leave Vayenne?"
"Before we meet the enemy I hope it will be larger," Herrick answered."There are some honest men amongst my enemies. In the country's needI have appealed to them to forget civil dissension for the time being,and some are inclined to listen to me. I have appointed ameeting-place, where all honest men in Montvilliers shall send me whathelp they can. To-morrow I expect to find a goodly array of stalwartsoldiers there. The enemy at the frontier shall find that we can stillbite, de Bornais, and are not such curs that we cannot drop our ownquarrels when face to face with a common danger."
De Bornais bowed. Words could not come easily. Did the Duke suspecthim, and was this a subtle appeal to his honor?
So at midnight, when a moonless sky was brilliant with low-hangingstars, the commotion in the court-yard woke Christine out of her firstsleep, and she got up, and went to the window. The torches threw aweird, dancing light over the scene. Impatient steeds were pawing theuneven stones, men called hoarsely to one another, and at sharpcommands swung themselves quickly to their saddles, and in troopspassed through the open gate and across the great square, and causedother sleepers to awake and go to their windows, disturbed by theunusual noise in the streets. Vayenne had heard no rumor of thismidnight march. Christine had known nothing of it. She watched the menmount and go, recognized Captain Lemasle as he superintended thedeparture, and presently saw him mount his own horse. Then a figureappeared on the terrace and slowly descended the steps. How differentnow to that night when, at the foot of those steps, she had mountedher horse, and had ridden across the court-yard to look into the faceof a spy. Herrick stood for a moment at the bottom of the steps, andlooked up into the starlit sky--or was the look only toward herwindow?--and the next moment he was settling himself in his saddle.Jean was leaning from the terrace to look at him, and Christine leanedforward to see him better. Had Herrick looked up again, he might havecaught sight of the white figure at the window. But he did not turn.He bent down to say something to de Bornais, and then with the last ofthe soldiers rode out of the gate, which was immediately closed. Thenthe dwarf looked up at the window, and saw the white figure, andwondered!
The city grew silent under the night when the last of the soldiers hadpassed out o
f it and across the river, the last round was that of thehorses as they passed over the bridge; and to Jean the castle seemedempty, ghost-haunted, and a place to feel fear in. He could not sleepon such a night; he climbed to the summit of the western tower, andwas alone with the stars and his thoughts.
When they had been riding for about an hour, Herrick left Lemasle incommand, and taking half-a-dozen men with him, turned in the directionof the forest. One of the men who knew the hut of the charcoal-burnersacted as guide, and early in the morning they came to the place sofull of memories to Herrick. Pierre Briant heard the horses, and cameout of the hut.
"Is she still alive?" asked Herrick, swinging himself from the saddle.
"Yes, sir: but dying."
"Or shamming, think you?"
"Really dying, sir; there was a rattle in her throat in the night."
The old hag was lying in much the same spot that Herrick himself hadoccupied. A fire was upon the hearth, and the smell of the peat waspungent. The old woman's face looked like a skull over which yellowskin had been lightly drawn. The closed eyes, sunken, and like emptysockets, increased the likeness. The noise of Herrick's entrancedisturbed her, and she looked up at him as he stood over her.
"You know me," he said sternly.
"You're a liar, curse you." And although the words were feebly spokenthere was venom in them.
"A wounded man In a forest lay, Who the fates decree Shall be Duke one day."
recited Herrick.
The sound of the doggerel brought a look of interest into the oldhag's face.
"Now do you know me?" asked Herrick. "You were wrong. I was not thewounded man. I am the one you had bound to a tree, to be left to thewill of fate. Fate has been kind. I am the Duke."
The hag tried to raise a skinny arm, as though to protect herself fromhis vengeance.
"Tell me, where was the wounded man taken? Where is he now?"
"Shall be Duke one day," mumbled the old woman.
"Where is he?"
"Ah!" she said, not sharply, but in a long drawn out sound almost likethe hiss of a snake.
"Quick, or we will find means to make you speak."
"You can't, curse you."
"We'll tie her to a tree," said Herrick. "I know the method of it, andthere is no need for care that the rope is loose at her throat."
Two of the men moved forward as though to seize her and carry her out.
"Curse you, let me be," she tried to scream, but the words were only awhistle. "If I tell, what then?"
"We make no bargain."
"You--you--curse you!"
"Out with her to the tree," said Herrick, and one of the men bentdown, and touched her.
"I'll tell--I'll tell."
"Quickly then."
"Simon sold him to the enemy," the old woman said--"the enemy that'snow on the way to make carrion of such as you. He's dead, or if heisn't he's safe in a tower by the frontier close to Larne, and you'llnever get him, curse you."
"I know the place, sir," whispered one of the men. "She may bespeaking the truth."
The hag had closed her eyes again, but after a few seconds she openedthem, and in that short interval she seemed to have forgotten all thathad gone before. She started, as though for the first time sherealized that men were looking down at her, and she began to cursethem in a long string of foul oaths which were truly appalling.Herrick thought she must be shamming sickness, for she suddenly raisedherself almost into a sitting posture, and pointing at him with herlong, skeleton hand, let loose all the vials of her vituperation uponhim, promising him a hell here and damnation of the most horrible andfantastic kind hereafter.
"Duke!--Liar!" she screamed, and her voice was strong for an instant."Duke!--curse you--wounded man--fates--some day--curse!"
The words were in a descending scale, the last a mere whisper, andthen her body heaved as if she would spring to her feet. The nextmoment she fell backward with a thud--dead!
Herrick turned away with a shudder. Such a death was horrible.
"The world's well rid of her," said Briant.
"Bury her presently," said Herrick to the charcoal-burners. "God knowsher history, and shall judge her. Bury her out of the beaten track,and deeply, and then if you will, follow us toward Larne. Montvilliershas need of every stalwart son she has given birth to."
They were soon riding through the forest again, Pierre Briant and hismen with them. Herrick rode alone a little in advance, and the oldhag's doggerel was singing in his ears. Her last disjointed words wereevidently an attempt to repeat the rhyme. It was well that thesoldiers knew nothing of the circumstances under which it had firstbeen spoken, or they might have been superstitious enough to look uponhim as a leader foredoomed to failure.
Toward evening they came to the rendezvous, and the sight put newspirit into Herrick. The nobles had responded to his appeal in amanner far beyond his greatest hopes. Many of them had come themselvesto the meeting-place bringing all the men they could, and others hadsent men. Herrick found his army greatly increased.
There came forward to meet him the old noble who had spoken in thegreat hall that night, and Herrick dismounted to receive him.
"Sir, there was only one way of answering your appeal," said the oldman. "It was worthy of a Duke. My arm is not so strong as it was, butthere is still too much energy in it to stay at home when every goodman is of service."
"I thank you," Herrick answered. "You shall find me as ready to fulfilmy part of the bargain when we return in peace."
"Sir, I know you for a true man, and if I return you shall find meamongst your friends."
Not all met him in this generous fashion, but they were all willing tofollow him in the defence of their country.
"With such loyalty, who can dream of failure?" said Herrick. "InVayenne yonder, they have whispered that the nobles of Montvillierswere in league with the enemy. It was a false report. Surely there canbe few in the land."
"And they may be in the city," said one.
Herrick would not believe such a thing.
"Their quarrel was with me," he said, "that is a different matter totreachery toward their country. We march at dawn. See to it, Lemasle.Not yet is Montvilliers to fall a prey to her enemies."
A great shout welcomed his words, but Herrick's heart was heavy thatnight in spite of all. Were there traitors in Vayenne, subtle andpowerful enough to make terms with the enemy? Who were they? Felix? DeBornais? Christine? Did she hate him so much, that to punish him shewould sacrifice her country? And all night he lay awake, thinking notof the task before him, but of the woman he loved.
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