“ ’Tis a sharp, biting wind,” said he: “I wonder what detains my boys so long! Monsieur, I shall shew you two of the finest lads that ever stepped in shoe of leather: the eldest is three-and-twenty, the second a year younger: their equals for sense, courage, and activity, are not to be found within fifty miles of Strasbourg. Would they were back again! I begin to feel uneasy about them.”
Marguerite was at this time employed in laying the cloth.
“And are you equally anxious for the return of your sons?” said I to her.
“Not I,” she replied peevishly; “they are no children of mine.”
“Come, come, Marguerite!” said the husband, “do not be out of humour with the gentleman for asking a simple question: had you not looked so cross, he would never have thought you old enough to have a son of three-and-twenty; but you see how many years ill-temper adds to you!—Excuse my wife’s rudeness, monsieur; a little thing puts her out; and she is somewhat displeased at your not thinking her to be under thirty.—That is the truth, is it not, Marguerite? You know, monsieur, that age is always a ticklish subject with a woman. Come, come, Marguerite! clear up a little. If you have not sons as old, you will some twenty years hence; and I hope that we shall live to see them just such lads as Jacques and Robert.”
Marguerite clasped her hands together passionately.
“God forbid!” said she, “God forbid! If I thought it, I would strangle them with my own hands.”
She quitted the room hastily, and went up stairs.
I could not help expressing to the woodman how much I pitied him for being chained for life to a partner of such ill-humour.
“Ah, Lord! monsieur, every one has his share of grievances, and Marguerite has fallen to mine. Besides, after all, she is only cross, and not malicious: the worst is, that her affection for two children by a former husband, makes her play the step-mother with my two sons; she cannot bear the sight of them; and, by her good will, they would never set a foot within my door. But on this point I always stand firm, and never will consent to abandon the poor lads to the world’s mercy, as she has often solicited me to do. In every thing else I let her have her own way; and truly she manages a family rarely, that I must say for her.”
We were conversing in this manner, when our discourse was interrupted by a loud halloo, which rang through the forest.
“My sons, I hope!” exclaimed the woodman, and ran to open the door.
The halloo was repeated. We now distinguished the trampling of horses; and, soon after, a carriage attended by several cavaliers stopped at the cottage door. One of the horsemen enquired how far they were still from Strasbourg. As he addressed himself to me, I answered in the number of miles which Claude had told me; upon which a volley of curses was vented against the drivers for having lost their way. The persons in the coach were now informed of the distance of Strasbourg; and also that the horses were so fatigued as to be incapable of proceeding further. A lady, who appeared to be the principal, expressed much chagrin at this intelligence; but as there was no remedy, one of the attendants asked the woodman whether he could furnish them with lodging for the night.
He seemed much embarrassed, and replied in the negative; adding, that a Spanish gentleman and his servant were already in possession of the only spare apartments in his house. On hearing this, the gallantry of my nation would not permit me to retain those accommodations of which a female was in want. I instantly signified to the woodman, that I transferred my right to the lady: he made some objections, but I over-ruled them, and, hastening to the carriage, opened the door, and assisted the lady to descend. I immediately recognized her for the same person whom I had seen at the inn at Luneville. I took an opportunity of asking one of her attendants what was her name?
“The baroness Lindenberg,” was the answer.
I could not but remark how different a reception our host had given these new-comers and myself. His reluctance to admit them was visibly expressed on his countenance; and he prevailed on himself with difficulty to tell the lady that she was welcome. I conducted her into the house, and placed her in the arm-chair which I had just quitted. She thanked me very graciously, and made a thousand apologies for putting me to an inconvenience. Suddenly the woodman’s countenance cleared up.
“At last I have arranged it!” said he, interrupting her excuses. “I can lodge you and your suite, madam, and you will not be under the necessity of making this gentleman suffer for his politeness. We have two spare chambers, one for the lady, the other, monsieur, for you: my wife shall give up hers to the two waiting-women: as for the men servants, they must content themselves with passing the night in a large barn, which stands at a few yards distance from the house; there they shall have a blazing fire, and as good a supper as we can make shift to give them.”
After several expressions of gratitude on the lady’s part, and opposition on mine to Marguerite’s giving up her bed, this arrangement was agreed to. As the room was small, the baroness immediately dismissed her male domestics. Baptiste was on the point of conducting them to the barn which he had mentioned, when two young men appeared at the door of the cottage.
“Hell and furies!” exclaimed the first, starting back, “Robert, the house is filled with strangers!”
“Ha! there are my sons!” cried our host. “Why, Jacques! Robert! whither are you running, boys? There is room enough still for you.”
Upon this assurance the youths returned. The father presented them to the baroness and myself; after which he withdrew with our domestics, while, at the request of the two waiting-women, Marguerite conducted them to the room designed for their mistress.
The two new-comers were tall, stout, well-made young men, hard-featured, and very much sun-burnt. They paid their compliments to us in few words, and acknowledged Claude, who now entered the room, as an old acquaintance. They then threw aside their cloaks in which they were wrapped up, took off a leathern belt to which a large cutlass was suspended, and each drawing a brace of pistols from his girdle laid them upon a shelf.
“You travel well armed,” said I.
“True, monsieur,” replied Robert.—“We left Strasbourg late this evening, and ’Tis necessary to take precautions at passing through this forest after dark; it does not bear a good repute, I promise you.”
“How?” said the baroness, “are there robbers hereabout?”
“So it is said, madame: for my own part, I have travelled through the wood at all hours, and never met with one of them.”
Here Marguerite returned. Her step-sons drew her to the other end of the room, and whispered her for some minutes. By the looks which they cast towards us at intervals, I conjectured them to be enquiring our business in the cottage.
In the mean while, the baroness expressed her apprehensions that her husband would be suffering much anxiety upon her account. She had intended to send on one of her servants to inform the baron of her delay; but the account which the young men gave of the forest rendered this plan impracticable. Claude relieved her from her embarrassment: he informed her, that he was under the necessity of reaching Strasbourg that night; and that, would she trust him with a letter, she might depend upon its being safely delivered.
“And how comes it,” said I, “that you are under no apprehension of meeting these robbers?”
“Alas! monsieur, a poor man with a large family must not lose certain profit because ’Tis attended with a little danger; and perhaps my lord the baron may give me a trifle for my pains: besides, I have nothing to lose except my life, and that will not be worth the robbers taking.”
I thought his arguments bad, and advised his waiting till the morning; but, as the baroness did not second me, I was obliged to give up the point. The baroness Lindenberg, as I found afterwards, had long been accustomed to sacrifice the interests of others to her own, and her wish to send Claude to Strasbourg blinded her to the danger of the undertaking. Accordingly, it was resolved that he should set out without delay. The baroness wrote her letter to he
r husband; and I sent a few lines to my banker, apprising him that I should not be at Strasbourg till the next day. Claude took our letters, and left the cottage.
The lady declared herself much fatigued by her journey: besides having come from some distance, the drivers had contrived to lose their way in the forest. She now addressed herself to Marguerite, desiring to be shewn to her chamber, and permitted to take half an hour’s repose. One of the waiting-women was immediately summoned; she appeared with a light, and the baroness followed her up stairs. The cloth was spreading in the chamber where I was, and Marguerite soon gave me to understand that I was in her way. Her hints were too broad to be easily mistaken; I therefore desired one of the young men to conduct me to the chamber where I was to sleep, and where I could remain till supper was ready.
“Which chamber is it, mother?” said Robert.
“The one with green hangings,” she replied. “I have just been at the trouble of getting it ready, and have put fresh sheets upon the bed: if the gentleman chooses to lollop and lounge upon it, he may make it again himself, for me.”
“You are out of humour, mother; but that is no novelty. Have the goodness to follow me, monsieur.”
He opened the door, and advanced towards a narrow stair-case.
“You have got no light,” said Marguerite; “is it your own neck or the gentleman’s that you have a mind to break?”
She crossed by me, and put a candle into Robert’s hand; having received which, he began to ascend the stair-case. Jacques was employed in laying the cloth, and his back was turned towards me. Marguerite seized the moment when we were unobserved: she caught my hand, and pressed it strongly.
“Look at the sheets!” said she as she passed me, and immediately resumed her former occupation.
Startled by the abruptness of her action, I remained as if petrified. Robert’s voice desiring me to follow him recalled me to myself. I ascended the stair-case. My conductor ushered me into a chamber where an excellent wood fire was blazing upon the hearth. He placed the light upon the table, enquired whether I had any further commands, and, on my replying in the negative, left me to myself. You may be certain, that the moment when I found myself alone, was that on which I complied with Marguerite’s injunction. I took the candle hastily, approached the bed, and turned down the coverture. What was my astonishment, my horror, at finding the sheets crimsoned with blood!
At that moment a thousand confused ideas passed before my imagination. The robbers who infested the wood, Marguerite’s exclamation respecting her children, the arms and appearance of the two young men, and the various anecdotes which I had heard related respecting the secret correspondence which frequently exists between banditti and postillions; all these circumstances flashed upon my mind, and inspired me with doubt and apprehension. I ruminated on the most probable means of ascertaining the truth of my conjectures. Suddenly I was aware of some one below pacing hastily backwards and forwards. Every thing now appeared to me an object of suspicion. With precaution I drew near the window, which, as the room had been long shut up, was left open in spite of the cold. I ventured to look out. The beams of the moon permitted me to distinguish a man, whom I had no difficulty to recognize for my host. I watched his movements. He walked swiftly, then stopped and seemed to listen: he stamped upon the ground, and beat his stomach with his arms, as if to guard himself from the inclemency of the season: at the least noise, if a voice was heard in the lower part of the house, if a bat flitted past him, or the wind rattled amidst the leafless boughs, he started, and looked round with anxiety.
“Plague take him!” said he at length with extreme impatience; “what can he be about?”
He spoke in a low voice; but as he was just below my window, I had no difficulty to distinguish his words.
I now heard the steps of one approaching. Baptiste went towards the sound; he joined a man, whom his low stature and the horn suspended from his neck, declared to be no other than my faithful Claude, whom I had supposed to be already on his way to Strasbourg. Expecting their discourse to throw some light upon my situation, I hastened to put myself in a condition to hear it with safety. For this purpose I extinguished the candle, which stood upon a table near the bed: the flame of the fire was not strong enough to betray me, and I immediately resumed my place at the window.
The objects of my curiosity had stationed themselves directly under it. I suppose that, during my momentary absence, the woodman had been blaming Claude for tardiness, since when I returned to the window the latter was endeavouring to excuse his fault.
“However,” added he, “my diligence at present shall make up for my past delay.”
“On that condition,” answered Baptiste, “I shall readily forgive you: but in truth, as you share equally with us in our prizes, your own interest will make you use all possible diligence. ’Twould be a shame to let such a noble booty escape us. You say that this Spaniard is rich?”
“His servant boasted at the inn, that the effects in his chaise were worth above two thousand pistoles.”
Oh! how I cursed Stephano’s imprudent vanity.
“And I have been told,” continued the postillion, “that this baroness carries about her a casket of jewels of immense value.”
“May be so, but I had rather she had stayed away. The Spaniard was a secure prey; the boys and myself could easily have mastered him and his servant, and then the two thousand pistoles would have been shared between us four. Now we must let in the band for a share, and perhaps the whole covey may escape us. Should our friends have betaken themselves to their different posts before you reach the cavern, all will be lost. The lady’s attendants are too numerous for us to overpower them. Unless our associates arrive in time, we must needs let these travellers set out to-morrow without damage or hurt.”
“ ’Tis plaguy unlucky that my comrades who drove the coach should be those unacquainted with our confederacy! But never fear, friend Baptiste: an hour will bring me to the cavern; it is now but ten o’clock, and by twelve you may expect the arrival of the band. By the bye, take care of your wife: you know how strong is her repugnance to our mode of life, and she may find means to give information to the lady’s servants of our design.”
“Oh! I am secure of her silence; she is too much afraid of me, and fond of her children, to dare to betray my secret. Besides, Jacques and Robert keep a strict eye over her, and she is not permitted to set a foot out of the cottage. The servants are safely lodged in the barn. I shall endeavour to keep all quiet till the arrival of our friends. Were I assured of your finding them, the strangers should be dispatched this instant; but as it is possible for you to miss the banditti, I am fearful of being summoned by their domestics to produce them in the morning.”
“And suppose either of the travellers should discover your design?”
“Then we must poniard those in our power, and take our chance about mastering the rest. However, to avoid running such a risk, hasten to the cavern; the banditti never leave it before eleven, and if you use diligence you may reach it in time to stop them.”
“Tell Robert that I have taken his horse; my own has broken his bridle, and escaped into the wood. What is the watch-word?”
“The reward of courage.”
“ ’Tis sufficient. I hasten to the cavern.”
“And I to rejoin my guests, lest my absence should create suspicion. Farewell, and be diligent.”
These worthy associates now separated; the one bent his course towards the stable, while the other returned to the house.
You may judge what must have been my feelings during this conversation, of which I lost not a single syllable. I dared not trust myself to my reflections, nor did any means present itself to escape the dangers which threatened me. Resistance I knew to be vain; I was unarmed, and a single man against three. However, I resolved at least to sell my life as dearly as I could. Dreading lest Baptiste should perceive my absence, and suspect me to have overheard the message with which Claude was dispatched, I hastily
re-lighted my candle and quitted the chamber. On descending, I found the table spread for six persons. The baroness sat by the fire-side; Marguerite was employed in dressing a sallad, and her step-sons were whispering together at the further end of the room. Baptiste, having the round of the garden to make ere he could reach the cottage door, was not yet arrived. I seated myself quietly opposite to the baroness.
A glance upon Marguerite told her that her hint had not been thrown away upon me. How different did she now appear to me! What before seemed gloom and sullenness, I now found to be disgust at her associates and compassion for my danger. I looked up to her as to my only resource; yet knowing her to be watched by her husband with a suspicious eye, I could place but little reliance on the exertions of her good will.
In spite of all my endeavours to conceal it, my agitation was but too visibly expressed upon my countenance. I was pale, and both my words and actions were disordered and embarrassed. The young men observed this, and enquired the cause. I attributed it to excess of fatigue, and the violent effect produced on me by the severity of the season. Whether they believed me or not, I will not pretend to say; they at least ceased to embarrass me with their questions. I strove to divert my attention from the perils which surrounded me, by conversing on different subjects with the baroness. I talked of Germany, declaring my intention of visiting it immediately: God knows, that I little thought at that moment of ever seeing it! She replied to me with great ease and politeness, professed that the pleasure of making my acquaintance amply compensated for the delay in her journey, and gave me a pressing invitation to make some stay at the castle of Lindenberg. As she spoke thus, the youths exchanged a malicious smile, which declared that she would be fortunate if she ever reached that castle herself. This action did not escape me; but I concealed the emotion which it excited in my breast. I continued to converse with the lady; but my discourse was so frequently incoherent that as she has since informed me, she began to doubt whether I was in my right senses. The fact was, that while my conversation turned upon one subject, my thoughts were entirely occupied by another. I meditated upon the means of quitting the cottage, finding my way to the barn, and giving the domestics information of our host’s designs. I was soon convinced how impracticable was the attempt. Jacques and Robert watched my every movement with an attentive eye, and I was obliged to abandon the idea. All my hopes now rested upon Claude’s not finding the banditti. In that case, according to what I had overheard, we should be permitted to depart unhurt.
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