CHAPTER IV.
THE DILEMMA.
Sheer amazement held the Vicomte silent. The Countess of Rochechouart,of the proud house of Longueville, that in those days yielded place toscarce a house in France--the Countess of Rochechouart to be seekingadmittance at his door! And at this hour of the night! She, who was ofthe greatest heiresses of France, whose hand was weighted with ahundred manors, and of whose acquaintance the Abbess had latelyboasted as a thing of which even a Villeneuve might be proud, she tobe knocking at his gate in the dark hours! And seeking help! TheCountess--his head went round. He was still gazing speechless withsurprise when the short dark man who had entered with her fell on hisknees before the girl, and seizing her hand mumbled upon it, wept onit, babbled over it, heedless alike of the crowd of gazers who pressedupon him, and of the master of the house, who stared aghast.
The Vicomte's amazement began at that to give place to perplexity. TheAbbess, had she been here, would have known how to entertain such aguest. But Bonne and Roger--they were naught. Yet he must dosomething. He found his voice. "If I have, indeed," he said, for hewas still suspicious of a trick, so forlorn and childish seemed thefigure before him--"if I have indeed the honour," he repeated stiffly,"to address the Countess of Rochechouart, I--I bid her welcome to mypoor house."
"I am Mademoiselle de Rochechouart," the girl murmured, speakingfaintly. "I thank you."
It was apparent that she could say no more. Her face was scratched andbleeding, her hair was loose, her riding-dress, stained to the throatwith dirt, was torn in more places than one. There were other signsthat, frail as she was, she had ridden hard and desperately; ridden tothe end of her strength.
But the Vicomte thought, not of her, but of himself, as was hiscustom; not of her plight, but of the figure he was making before hispeople, who stared open-mouthed at the unwonted scene. "Time was,mademoiselle," he replied, drawing himself up, "before Coutras, when Icould have offered you"--with a bow--"a more fitting hospitality. Timewas when the house of Villeneuve, which has entertained four kings,could have afforded a more fitting reception to--hem--to beauty indistress. But that was before Coutras. Since Coutras, destined to bethe grave of the nobility of France--I---- What is it?"
"I think she is faint, sir," Bonne murmured timidly. She, with awoman's eye, saw that the Countess was swaying, and she sprang forwardto support her. "She is ill, sir," she continued hurriedly and withgreater boldness. "Permit me, I beg you, sir, to take her to my room.She will be better there--until we can arrange a chamber." Already thechild, half-fainting, was clinging to her, and but for her must havefallen.
The Vicomte, taken aback by his daughter's presumption, could onlystare. "If this be so," he said grudgingly, "certainly! But I don'tunderstand. How comes all this about? Eh? How----" But he found thatthe girl did not heed him, and he turned and addressed the attendant."How, you, sir, comes your mistress here? And in this plight?"
But the dark man, as deaf as his mistress to the question, had turnedto follow her. He seemed indeed to have no more notion of being partedfrom her than a dog which finds itself alone with its master amongstrangers. Bonne at the door discovered his presence at her elbow, andpaused in some embarrassment. The Vicomte saw the pause, and glad todo something--he had just ordered off the women with fleas in theirears--he called loudly to the man to stand back. "Stand back, fellow,"he repeated. "The Countess will be well tended. Let two of the womenbe sent to her to do what is needful--as is becoming."
But the Countess, faint as she was, heard and spoke. "He is myfoster-father," she murmured without turning her head. "If he may lieat my door he will heed no one."
Bonne, whose arm was round her, nodded a cheerful assent, and,followed by two of the women, the three disappeared in the directionof the girl's chamber. The Vicomte, left to digest the matter, sniffedonce or twice with a face of amazement, and then awoke to the factthat Roger and his guest were still absent. Fortunately, before he haddone more than give vent to peevish complaints, they entered.
He waited, with his eyes on the door. To his surprise no one followedthem--no steward, no attendant. "Well?" he cried, withering them withhis glance. "What does this mean? Where are the others? Is there noone in the Countess's train of a condition to be presented to me?Or how comes it that you have not brought him, booby,"--this toRoger--"to give me some account of these strange proceedings? AmI the last to be told who come into my house? But God knows, sinceCoutras----"
"There is no one, M. le Vicomte," the Lieutenant answered.
The Vicomte glared at him. "How? No one?" he retorted pompously."Impossible! Do you suppose that the Countess of Rochechouart travelswith no larger attendance than a poor gentleman of Brittany? You mean,sir, I take it, that there is no one of condition, though that is socontrary to rule that I can hardly believe it. A countess ofRochechouart and no gentlemen in her train! She should travel withfour at the least!"
"I only know that there is no one, sir."
"I do not understand!"
"Neither do we," the Lieutenant of Perigord returned, somewhat out ofpatience. "The matter is as dark to us as it is to you, sir. It isplain that the Countess has experienced a serious adventure, butbeyond that we know nothing, since neither she nor her attendant hasspoken. He seems beside himself with joy and she with fatigue."
"But the spears?" his host retorted sharply. "The men on horse andfoot who alarmed the porter?"
"They vanished as soon as we opened. One I did delay a moment, andlearned--though he was in haste to be gone--that they fell in with thelady a half mile from here. She was then in the plight in which youhave seen her, and it was at her attendant's prayer, who informed themof her quality, that they escorted her to this house. They learned nomore from him than that the lady's train had been attacked in thewoods between this and Vlaye, and that the man got his mistress awayand hid with her, and was making for this house when the horsemen metthem."
"Incredible!" the Vicomte exclaimed, stalking across the hearth andreturning in excitement. "Since Coutras I have heard no such thing! ACountess of Rochechouart attacked on the road and put to it like acommon herdgirl. It must be the work of those cursed--peasants! Itmust be so! But, then, the men who brought her to the door andvanished again, who are they? Travellers are not so common in theseparts. You might journey three days before you fell in with a body ofmen-at-arms to protect you on your way."
"True," des Ageaux answered. "But I learned no more from them."
"And you, Master Booby?" the Vicomte said, addressing Roger with hisusual sarcasm. "You asked nothing, I suppose?"
"I was busied about the Countess," the lad muttered. "It was dark, andI heard no more than their voices."
"Then it was only you who saw them?" the Vicomte exclaimed, turningagain to des Ageaux. "Did you not notice what manner of men they were,sir, how many, and of what class? Strange that they should leave awarm house-door at this hour! Did you form no opinion of them? Werethey"--he brought out the word with an effort--"Crocans, think you?"
The Lieutenant replied that he took them for the armed attendants of agentleman passing that way, and the Vicomte, though ill-content withthe answer, was obliged to put up with it. "Yet it seems passingstrange to me," he retorted, "that you did not think their drawing offa little beside the ordinary. And who travels at this hour of thenight, I would like to know?"
The Lieutenant made no answer, and the Vicomte too fell silent. Fromtime to time serving-women had passed through the room--for, after theawkward fashion of those days, the passage to the inner apartments wasthrough the dining-hall--some with lights, and some with fire in pans.The draught from the closing doors had more than once threatened toextinguish the flickering candles. Such flittings produced an air ofbustle and a hum of preparation long unknown in that house; but theywere certainly more to the taste of the menials than the master. Ateach interruption the Vicomte pished and pshawed, glaring as if hewould slay the offender. But the women, embolde
ned by the event andthe presence of strangers, did not heed him, and after some minutes ofsilent sufferance his patience came to an end.
"Go you," he cried to Roger, "and bid the girl come to me."
"The Countess, sir?" the lad exclaimed in astonishment.
The Vicomte swore. "No, fool!" he replied. "Your sister! Is she masterof the house, or am I? Bid her descend this instant and tell me whatis forward and what she has learned."
Roger, with secret reluctance, obeyed, and his father, sorelyfretting, awaited his return. Two minutes elapsed, and three. Seldomstirring abroad, the Vicomte had, in spite of all his talk aboutCoutras, an overweening sense of his own importance, and he was aboutto break out in fury when Bonne at length entered. She was followed byRoger.
It was clear at a glance that the girl was frightened; less clear thatmixed with her fear was another emotion. "Well," the Vicomte cried,throwing himself back in his great chair and fixing her with his angryeyes. "What is it? Am I to know nothing--in my own house?"
Bonne controlled herself by an effort. "On the contrary, sir, there isthat which I think you should know," she murmured. "The Countess hastold me the story. She was attacked on the road, some of her peopleshe fears were killed, and all were scattered. She herself escapedbarely with her life."
The Vicomte stared. "Where?" he said. "Where was it?"
"An hour from here, sir."
"Towards Vlaye?"
"Yes, sir."
"And she barely escaped?"
"You saw her, sir."
"And who--who does she say dared to commit this outrage?"
Bonne did not answer. Her eyes sought her brother's and sank again.She trembled.
The Vicomte, though not the keenest of observers, detected herembarrassment. He fancied that he knew its origin, and the cause ofher hesitation. In a voice of triumph, "Ay, who?" he replied. "Youdon't wish to say. But I can tell you. I read it in your face. I cantell you, disobedient wench, who alone would be guilty of such anoutrage. Those gutter-sweepings"--his face swelled with rage--"made upof broken lacqueys and ploughboys, whom they call Crocans! Eh, girl,is it not so?" he continued savagely. "Am I not right?"
"No, sir," she murmured without daring to look up.
His face fell. "No?" he repeated. "No? But I don't believe you! Whothen? Don't lie to me! Who then?" He rapped the table before him.
"The Captain of Vlaye," she whispered.
The Vicomte sank back in his chair. "Impossible!" he cried. Then in amuch lower tone: "Impossible!" he repeated. "You dream, girl. M. deVlaye has done some things not quite--not regular. But--but in casesperfectly different. To people of--of no consequence! This cannot be!"
"I fear it is so, sir," she whispered, without raising her eyes. "Noris that--the worst."
The Vicomte clenched his fingers about the arms of his chair andnodded the question he could not frame.
"It was with the Abbess, sir--with my sister," Bonne continued in alow tone, "that the Countess was to stay the night. I fear that it wasfrom her that he learned where and how to beset her."
The Vicomte looked as if he was about to have a fit.
"What?" he cried. "Do you dare, unnatural girl, to assert that yoursister was privy to this outrage?"
"Heaven forbid, sir!" Bonne answered fervently. "She knew naught ofit. But----"
"Then why----"
"But it was from her, I fear, that he learned where the child--she islittle more--could be surprised."
The Vicomte glared at her without speaking. The Lieutenant, who hadlistened, not without admiration of the girl's sense and firmness,seized the opening to intervene. "Were it not well, sir," he said, hismatter-of-fact tone calming the Vicomte's temper, "if mademoiselletold us as nearly as possible what she has heard? And, as she has beensomewhat shaken, perhaps you will permit her to sit down! She willthen, I think, be able to tell us more quickly what we want."
The Vicomte gave a surly assent, and the Lieutenant himself placed astool for the girl where she could lean upon the table. Her fatheropened his eyes at the attention, but something in des Ageaux's facesilenced the sneer on his lips, and he waited until Bonne began.
"The Countess lay at Pons last night, sir," she said in a low tone."There the lady who was formerly her _gouvernante_, and still rulesher household, fell ill. The plague is in Western Poitou, and thoughthe Countess would have stayed, her physician insisted that she shouldproceed. Accordingly she left the invalid in his charge and that ofsome of her people, while she herself pursued her way through Jonsacand Barbesieux with a train reduced to fourteen persons, of whom eightwere well armed."
"This is what comes of travelling in such a fashion," the Vicomte saidcontemptuously. "I remember when I never passed the gates without--butgo on!"
"She now thinks that the _gouvernante's_ food was tampered with. Bethat as it may, her company passed our ford in the afternoon, and anhour later reached the ascent a league this side of Vlaye. They weremidway on the ascent, when half a dozen shots were fired. Several oftheir horses were struck, and the rest seized by a number of men whosprang from the undergrowth. In the panic those who were at the rearattempted to turn, but found their retreat cut off. The Countessalone, who rode in the middle with her steward, escaped through thedevotion of a servant, who thrust his horse before the leader of thebandits and brought him down. Fulbert, her steward, saw theopportunity, seized her rein, and, plunging into the undergrowth,reached by good luck the bottom of the hill, and, hidden by the wood,gained a start. He knew, however, that her strength would not holdout, and at the first sound of pursuit he alighted in a coppice, droveon the horses, and crept away with her through the underwood. He hopedto take shelter here, but passed the entrance in the darkness andwalked into the midst of a party of men encamped at the ford. Thenhe thought all lost, deeming them the band that had waylaid theCountess----"
"And who were they, if they were not?" the Vicomte asked, unable torestrain his curiosity. "Eh? They were camping at the ford?"
"Some riders belonging to the household of the Lieutenant of Perigord,sir, on their way to join him in his government. They were so honestas to guard the Countess hither----"
"And go again? The good Lord!" the Vicomte cried irritably. "Why?"
"I do not know, sir."
"Go on, then. Why do you break off? But--enough!" The Vicomte lookedat the other listeners with an air of triumph. "Where is Vlaye inthis? Because it was within a league of his castle, you put it on him,you baggage?"
"No, sir, indeed!" Bonne cried anxiously. "But Fulbert the stewardknows M. de Vlaye well, and recognised him. He wore a mask, it seems,but when his horse fell, the mask slipped, and Fulbert saw his faceand knew him. Moreover----"
"Well?"
"One of the band rode a bald-faced black horse, which the steward sawin M. de Vlaye's troop at Angouleme two months back, and to which hesays he could swear among ten thousand."
The Vicomte swore as one among a large number. But at length, "Andwhat is this to do with me?" he fumed. "What is this to me? Time was,before Coutras, when I might have been expected to--to keep the roads,and stay such things! But now--body of Satan, what is it to me?"
No one spoke, and he looked about him angrily, resenting theirsilence. "What is it?" he snarled. "What are you keeping back?"
"Nothing, sir," Bonne answered.
"Then what would you?"
"If," Bonne ventured desperately, "M. de Vlaye come to-morrow with mysister--with the Abbess, sir, as is not unlikely--and find theCountess here, will she be safe?"
The Vicomte's mouth opened, and slowly consternation settled upon hisfeatures. "_Mon Dieu!_" he muttered. "I had not thought of that. Buthere--no, no, he would not dare! He would not dare!"
"He went very far to-day, sir," Bonne objected, gaining courage fromhis face. "So far that he must go farther to ensure himself from theconsequences."
The Vicomte was silent.
The Lieutenant coughed. "If his object," he said, "be to force amarriage with the Countess---
-"
The Vicomte, with an oath, cut him short. "A marriage?" he said. "Amarriage? When he and my daughter the Abbess are--but who said aughtof the kind? Who said aught of a marriage?"
The Lieutenant did not answer, and the Vicomte, after growling in hisbeard, turned to him. "Why," he demanded in a tone that, thoughungracious, was no longer violent, "why do you say that that was hisobject?"
"Because," the Lieutenant answered, "I happen to know that M. deLongueville, who is her guardian, has his hands full. His wife andchildren are prisoners with the Spaniards, and he is moving heaven andearth and the court to procure their release. He has no thought tospare for the Countess, his cousin; and were she once married, howeverviolently, I doubt if he or any would venture to dispute herpossessions with a Vlaye, whose resources her wealth would treble.Such knights-errant," he continued drily, "are not very common, M. leVicomte. Set M. de Vlaye's strength at three hundred men-at-arms----"
"Four!" the Vicomte muttered, despite himself.
"Then double the four--as such a marriage, however effected, woulddouble them--and I doubt," with a courteous bow, "if even a Villeneuvewould find it easy to avenge a wrong!"
The Vicomte fidgeted in his seat. "You seem to know a vast deal aboutit, sir," he said, with ill-feigned contempt.
"I should feel it an honour," the Lieutenant answered politely, "to bepermitted to join in the defence."
"Defence!" the Vicomte exclaimed, staring at him in astonishment. "Yougo fast, sir! Defence? What do you mean?"
"If M. de Vlaye learn that the Countess has taken refuge here--I fearit will come to that."
"Pooh! Impossible! Defence, indeed! What are you dreaming of?"
But the guest continued to look grave, and the Vicomte, aftermuttering incoherently, and drumming on the table with his fingers,condescended to ask with a sneer what _he_ would do--in thecircumstances.
"I should keep her presence from him," des Ageaux answered. "I have noright, I know," he continued, in a more conciliatory tone, "to givecounsel to one of your experience, M. le Vicomte. But I see no choicesave to do what I suggest, or to pull up the drawbridge."
The Vicomte sat up straight. Pull up the drawbridge? Was hedreaming--he who had sat down to sup without a thought of misfortune?He with four hundred yards of wall to guard, and some seven pikes tohold it--to defy Vlaye and his four hundred ruffians? Body of Satan,he was not mad! Defy Vlaye, whom he feared even while he sneered athim as an adventurer? Vlaye, in whose star he believed even while hesneered. Or would he have dreamed of giving him his daughter? Pull upthe drawbridge? Never!
"I am not mad," he said coldly. But his hands trembled.
"Then, M. le Vicomte, it remains to keep it from him."
"How? You talk at random," the exasperated man answered. "Can I closethe mouth of every gossip in the house? Can I cut out every woman'stongue, beginning with that girl's? How can I keep out his men, orstop their ears over the wine-pot?"
"Could you not admit him only?"
"And proclaim from the housetop," the Vicomte retorted with contempt,"that I have something to hide?"
The Lieutenant did not reply at once, and it was plain that he waspuzzled by this view of the position. "Certainly that has to be bornein mind," he said. "You are quite right."
"To be sure it has!" the Vicomte answered brusquely, glad to have theopportunity of putting this overzealous adviser in his right place.But the satisfaction of triumph faded quickly, and left him face toface with the situation. He cursed Vlaye for placing him in thedilemma. He cursed the Countess--why could she not have taken refugeelsewhere? Last of all, he cursed his guest, who, after showinghimself offensively able to teach him his duty, failed the moment itcame to finding an expedient.
The solution of the riddle came from a quarter whence--at any rate bythe Vicomte--it was least expected. "May I say something?" Rogerventured timidly.
His father glared at him. "You?" he exclaimed. And then ungraciously,"Say on!" he growled.
"We have cut half the grass in the long meadow," the lad answered."And to-morrow we ought to be both cutting and making, while it isfine. Last year, as we were short-handed, the women helped. If youwere to order all but Solomon to the hay-field to-morrow--it is thefarthest from here, beside the river--there would be no one to talk ortell, sir."
Des Ageaux struck his leg in approbation. "The lad has it!" he said."With your permission, M. le Vicomte, what could be better?"
"Better?" the Vicomte retorted, throwing himself back in his chair."What? I am to open my gate with my own hands?"
"Solomon would open. And he can be trusted."
"Receive my daughter without man or maid?" the Vicomte cried. "Showmyself to strangers without my people? Appear like one of thebase-born beggarly ploughmen with mud in their veins, with whom youlove to mix? What mean you, sirrah, by such a suggestion? Shame onyou, unnatural fool!"
"But, M. le Vicomte," the Lieutenant remonstrated, "if you will not dothat----"
"Never! Never!"
"Then," des Ageaux answered, more stiffly, "it remains only to pull upthe drawbridge. Since, I presume," he continued, his tone takinginsensibly a note of disdain, "you do not propose to give up the younglady, or to turn her from your door."
"Turn her from my door?"
"That being at once to help M. de Vlaye to this marriage, and to dragthe name of Villeneuve in the mud! But"--breaking off with a bow--"Iam sure that the honour of the family is safe in your hands, M. leVicomte."
"It is well you said that!" the Vicomte cried, his face purple, hishands palsied with rage. "It is well you broke off, sir, or I wouldhave proved to you that my honour is safe with me. Body of Satan, am Ito be preached to by everybody--every brainless lad," he continued,prudently diverting his tirade to the head of the unlucky Roger,"who chooses to prate before his elders! _Mon Dieu!_ There was a timewhen children sat mute instead of preaching. But that was beforeCoutras!"--bitterly--"when most things came to an end."
This time des Ageaux had the shrewdness to be silent, and he garneredthe reward of his reticence. The Vicomte, rant as wildly as he might,was no fool, though vanity was hourly putting foolish things into hismouth. He was not blind--had he not "since Coutras" always on hislips?--to the changes which time had wrought in the world, and he knewthat face to face with his formidable neighbour he was helpless. Norwas he in the dark on Vlaye's character. So far the adventurer hadrespected him, and in presence, and at a distance, had maintained anobservance and a regard that was flattering to the decayed gentleman.But the Vicomte had seen the fate of others who crossed the Captain ofVlaye. He knew how impotent the law had proved to save them, how slacktheir friends--in a word, how quickly the waters had rolled over them.And he was astute enough to see, with all his conceit, that as it hadbeen with them, it might be with him, if he stood in M. de Vlaye'sway.
On the other hand, had he been mean enough to deliver up the Countess,he dared not. In the first place, to do so would, at the best, behazardous; she had powerful friends, and whether she escaped ormarried her captor she might not forgive him. In the second place, hedid not lightly resign the plan, which he had conceived, of unitinghis favourite daughter to the rising adventurer. True, M. de Vlaye'sposition was anomalous, was precarious. But a day, a bribe, a turn ofthe cards might legalise it and place him high in Court favour. Andthen----
The Vicomte's train of thought ran no farther in silence. With an oathand an ill grace he bade them do as they would. "Things," he cried,"are come to a pass indeed when guests----"
"A thousand pardons, M. le Vicomte!"
"And children dictate what is to be done and what to be left undone!"He looked older as he spoke; more broken and more peevish. "But sinceCoutras the devil has all, I think."
The Abbess Of Vlaye Page 6
