CHAPTER XI.
THE ROAD TO PARIS.
I remember hearing Marshal Bassompierre, who, of all men within myknowledge, had the widest experience, say that not dangers, butdiscomforts, prove a man, and show what he is; and that the worstsores in life are caused by crumpled rose-leaves and not by thorns.
I am inclined to agree with this. For I remember that when I came frommy room on the morning after the arrest, and found hall and parlourand passage empty, and all the common rooms of the house deserted, andno meal laid, and when I divined anew from this discovery the feelingof the house towards me,--however natural and to be expected,--I feltas sharp a pang as when, the night before, I had had to face discoveryand open rage and scorn. I stood in the silent, empty parlour, andlooked round me with a sense of desolation; of something lost andgone, which I could not replace. The morning was grey and cloudy, theair sharp; a shower was falling. The rose-bushes at the window swayedin the wind, and where I could remember the hot sunshine lying onfloor and table, the rain beat in and stained the boards. The maindoor flapped and creaked to and fro. I thought of other days and mealsI had taken there, and of the scent of flowers, and I fled to the hallin despair.
But here, too, was no sign of life or company, no comfort, noattendance. The ashes of the logs, by whose blaze Mademoiselle hadtold me the secret, lay on the hearth white and cold; and now and thena drop of moisture, sliding down the great chimney, pattered amongthem. The great door stood open as if the house had no longer anythingto guard. The only living thing to be seen was a hound which roamedabout restlessly, now gazing at the empty hearth, now lying down withpricked ears and watchful eyes. Some leaves which had been blown inrustled in a corner.
I went out moodily into the garden, and wandered down one path, andup another, looking at the dripping woods and remembering things,until I came to the stone seat. On it, against the wall, tricklingwith rain-drops, and with a dead leaf half filling its narrow neck,stood the pitcher of food. I thought how much had happened sinceMademoiselle took her hand off it and the sergeant's lanthorndisclosed it to me. And sighing grimly, I went in again through theparlour door.
A woman was on her knees, kindling the belated fire. I stood a moment,looking at her doubtfully, wondering how she would bear herself, andwhat she would say to me: and then she turned, and I cried out hername in horror; for it was Madame!
She was very plainly dressed; her childish face was wan, and piteouswith weeping. But either the night had worn out her passion anddrained her tears, or this great exigency gave her temporary calmness;for she was perfectly composed. She shivered as her eyes met mine, andshe blinked as if a light had been suddenly thrust before her. But sheturned again to her task, without speaking.
"Madame! Madame!" I cried, in a frenzy of distress. "What is this?"
"The servants would not do it," she answered, in a low but steadyvoice. "You are still our guest, Monsieur, and it must be done."
"But--I cannot suffer it!" I cried, in misery. "Madame de Cocheforet,I will--I would rather do it myself!"
She raised her hand, with a strange, patient expression on her face."Hush, please," she said. "Hush! you trouble me."
The fire took light and blazed up as she spoke, and she rose slowlyfrom it, and, with a lingering look at it, went out; leaving me tostand and stare and listen in the middle of the floor. Presently Iheard her coming back along the passage, and she entered, bearing atray with wine and meat and bread. She set it down on the table, andwith the same wan face, trembling always on the verge of tears, shebegan to lay out the things. The glasses clinked pitifully against theplates as she handled them; the knives jarred with one another; and Istood by, trembling myself, and endured this strange, this awfulpenance.
She signed to me at last to sit down and eat; and she went herself,and stood in the garden doorway, with her back to me. I obeyed. I satdown; but though I had eaten nothing since the afternoon of the daybefore, and a little earlier had had appetite enough, I could notswallow. I fumbled with my knife, and munched and drank; and grew hotand angry at this farce; and then looked through the window at thedripping bushes, and the rain, and the distant sundial, and grew coldagain.
Suddenly she turned round and came to my side. "You do not eat," shesaid.
I threw down my knife, and sprang up in a frenzy of passion. "_MonDieu!_ Madame!" I cried. "Do you think I have _no_ heart?"
And then in a moment I knew what I had done. In a moment she was onher knees on the floor, clasping my knees, pressing her wet cheeks tomy rough clothes, crying to me for mercy--for life! life! life! hislife! Oh, it was horrible! It was horrible to see her fair hairfalling over my mud-stained boots, to see her slender little formconvulsed with sobs, to feel that this was a woman, a gentlewoman, whothus abased herself at my feet.
"Oh, Madame! Madame!" I cried, in my agony. "I beg you to rise. Rise,or I must go! You will drive me out!"
"Grant me his life!" she moaned passionately. "Only his life! What hadhe done to you, that you should hunt him down? What had we done toyou, that you should slay us? Ah, Sir, have mercy! Let him go, and wewill pray for you; I and my sister will pray for you every morning andnight of our lives."
I was in terror lest some one should come and see her lying there, andI stooped and tried to raise her. But she would not rise; she onlysank the lower until her tender hands clasped my spurs, and I darednot move. Then I took a sudden resolution. "Listen then, Madame," Isaid, almost sternly, "if you will not rise. When you ask what you do,you forget how I stand, and how small my power is! You forget thatwere I to release your husband to-day, he would be seized within thehour by those who are still in the village, and who are watching everyroad--who have not ceased to suspect my movements and my intentions.You forget, I say, my circumstances--"
She cut me short on that word. She sprang abruptly to her feet andfaced me. One moment, and I should have said something to the purpose.But at that word she was before me, white, breathless, dishevelled,struggling for speech. "Oh yes, yes," she panted eagerly, "I know! Iunderstand!" And she thrust her hand into her bosom and pluckedsomething out and gave it to me--forced it upon me into my hands. "Iknow! I know!" she said again. "Take it, and God reward you, Monsieur!We give it freely--freely and thankfully! And may God bless you!"
I stood and looked at her, and looked at it, and slowly froze. She hadgiven me the packet--the packet I had restored to Mademoiselle, theparcel of jewels. I weighed it in my hands, and my heart grew hardagain, for I knew that this was Mademoiselle's doing; that it was shewho, mistrusting the effect of Madame's tears and prayers, had armedher with this last weapon--this dirty bribe, I flung it down on thetable among the plates, all my pity changed to anger. "Madame," Icried ruthlessly, "you mistake me altogether. I have heard hard wordsenough in the last twenty-four hours, and I know what you think of me!But you have yet to learn that I have never turned traitor to the handthat employed me, nor sold my own side! When I do so for a treasureten times the worth of that, may my hand rot off!"
She sank into a seat, with a moan of despair, and at that moment thedoor opened, and M. de Cocheforet came in. Over his shoulder I had aglimpse of Mademoiselle's proud face, a little whiter to-day, withdark marks under the eyes, but still firm and cold. "What is this?" hesaid, frowning and stopping short as his eyes lighted on Madame.
"It is--that we start at eleven o'clock, Monsieur," I answered, bowingcurtly. "Those, I fancy, are your property." And pointing to thejewels, I went out by the other door.
* * * * *
That I might not be present at their parting, I remained in the gardenuntil the hour I had appointed was well passed; then without enteringthe house I went to the stable entrance. Here I found all ready, thetwo troopers (whose company I had requisitioned as far as Auch)already in the saddle, my own two knaves waiting with my sorrel and M.de Cocheforet's chestnut. Another horse was being led up and down byLouis, and, alas, my heart winced at th
e sight. For it bore a lady'ssaddle, and I saw that we were to have company. Was it Madame whomeant to come with us? or Mademoiselle? And how far? To Auch? orfarther?
I suppose that they had set some kind of a watch on me; for, as Iwalked up, M. de Cocheforet and his sister came out of the house,--helooking white, with bright eyes and a twitching in his cheek, thoughthrough all he affected a jaunty bearing; she wearing a black mask.
"Mademoiselle accompanies us?" I said formally.
"With your permission, Monsieur," he answered, with grim politeness.But I saw that he was choking with emotion. I guessed that he had justparted from his wife, and I turned away.
When we were all mounted, he looked at me. "Perhaps, as you have myparole, you will permit me to ride alone," he said, with a littlehesitation, "and--"
"Without me!" I rejoined keenly. "Assuredly, so far as is possible." Idirected the troopers to ride in front and keep out of ear-shot; mytwo men followed the prisoner at a like distance, with their carbineson their knees. Last of all I rode myself, with my eyes open and apistol loose in my holster. M. de Cocheforet, I saw, was inclined tosneer at so many precautions, and the mountain made of his request;but I had not done so much and come so far, I had not faced scorn andinsults, to be cheated of my prize at last. Aware that until we werebeyond Auch there must be hourly and pressing danger of a rescue, Iwas determined that he who would wrest my prisoner from me should paydearly for it. Only pride, and, perhaps, in a degree also, appetitefor a fight, had prevented me borrowing ten troopers instead of two.
We started, and I looked with a lingering eye and many memories at thelittle bridge, the narrow woodland path, the first roofs of thevillage; all now familiar, all seen for the last time. Up the brook aparty of soldiers were dragging for the captain's body. A furlongfarther on, a cottage, burned by some carelessness in the night, lay aheap of black ashes. Louis ran beside us, weeping; the last brownleaves fluttered down in showers. And between my eyes and all, theslow, steady rain fell and fell and fell. And so I left Cocheforet.
Louis went with us to a point a mile beyond the village, and therestood and saw us go, cursing me furiously as I passed. Looking backwhen we had ridden on, I still saw him standing; and after a moment'shesitation I rode back to him. "Listen, fool," I said, cutting himshort in the midst of his mowing and snarling, "and give this messageto your mistress. Tell her from me that it will be with her husbandas it was with M. de Regnier, when he fell into the hands of hisenemy--no better and no worse."
"You want to kill her, too, I suppose?" he answered, glowering at me.
"No, fool! I want to save her!" I retorted wrathfully. "Tell her that,just that and no more, and you will see the result."
"I shall not," he said sullenly. "I shall not tell her. A message fromyou, indeed!" And he spat on the ground.
"Then on your head be it!" I answered solemnly. And I turned myhorse's head and galloped fast after the others. For, in spite of hisrefusal, I felt sure that he would report what I had said--if it wereonly out of curiosity; and it would be strange if Madame did notunderstand the reference.
And so we began our journey; sadly, under dripping trees and a leadensky. The country we had to traverse was the same I had trodden on thelast day of my march southwards, but the passage of a month hadchanged the face of everything. Green dells, where springs welling outof the chalk had made of the leafy bottom a fairies' home, strewn withdelicate ferns and hung with mosses--these were now swamps into whichour horses sank to the fetlock. Sunny brows, whence I had viewed thechampaign and traced my forward path, had become bare, windsweptridges. The beech woods, which had glowed with ruddy light, were nakednow; mere black trunks and rigid arms pointing to heaven. An earthysmell filled the air; a hundred paces away a wall of mist closed theview. We plodded on sadly, up hill and down hill; now fording brooksalready stained with flood-water, now crossing barren heaths.
But up hill or down hill, whatever the outlook, I was never permittedto forget that I was the jailer, the ogre, the villain; that I, ridingbehind in my loneliness, was the blight on all, the death-spot. True,I was behind the others; I escaped their eyes. But there was not aline of Mademoiselle's drooping figure that did not speak scorn to me,not a turn of her head that did not seem to say, "Oh God, that such athing should breathe!"
I had only speech with her once during the day, and that was on thelast ridge before we went down into the valley to climb up again toAuch. The rain had ceased; the sun, near its setting, shone faintly;and for a few moments we stood on the brow and looked southwards whilewe breathed the horses. The mist lay like a pall on all the country wehad traversed; but beyond it and above it, gleaming pearl-like in thelevel rays, the line of the mountains stood up like a land ofenchantment, soft, radiant, wonderful, or like one of those castles onthe Hill of Glass of which the old romances tell us. I forgot, for aninstant, how we were placed, and I cried to my neighbour that it wasthe fairest pageant I had ever seen.
She--it was Mademoiselle, and she had taken off her mask--cast onelook at me; only one, but it conveyed disgust and loathing sounspeakable that scorn beside them would have been a gift. I reined inmy horse as if she had struck me, and felt myself go first hot andthen cold under her eyes. Then she looked another way.
I did not forget the lesson; after that I avoided her more sedulouslythan before. We lay that night at Auch, and I gave M. de Cocheforetthe utmost liberty; even permitting him to go out and return at hiswill. In the morning, believing that on the farther side of Auch weran less risk of attack, I dismissed the two dragoons, and an hourafter sunrise we set out again. The day was dry and cold, the weathermore promising. I planned to go by way of Lectoure, crossing theGaronne at Agen; and I thought with roads continually improving as wemoved northwards, we should be able to make good progress beforenight. My two men rode first; I came last by myself.
Our way lay for some hours down the valley of the Gers, under poplarsand by long rows of willows; and presently the sun came out and warmedus. Unfortunately, the rain of the day before had swollen the brookswhich crossed our path, and we more than once had a difficulty infording them. Noon, therefore, found us little more than half-way toLectoure, and I was growing each minute more impatient, when our road,which had for a little while left the river bank, dropped down to itagain, and I saw before us another crossing, half ford, half slough.My men tried it gingerly, and gave back, and tried it again in anotherplace and finally, just as Mademoiselle and Monsieur came up to them,floundered through and sprang slantwise up the farther bank.
The delay had been long enough to bring me, with no good will of myown, close up to the Cocheforets. Mademoiselle's horse made a littlebusiness of the place; this delayed them still longer, and in theresult, we entered the water almost together, and I crossed close onher heels. The bank on either side was steep; while crossing we couldsee neither before nor behind. At the moment, however, I thoughtnothing of this, nor of her delay, and I was following her quite at myleisure, when the sudden report of a carbine, a second report, and ayell of alarm in front, thrilled me through.
On the instant, while the sound was still in my ears, I saw it all.Like a hot iron piercing my brain, the truth flashed into my mind. Wewere attacked! We were attacked, and I was here helpless in this pit,this trap! The loss of a second while I fumbled here, Mademoiselle'shorse barring the way, might be fatal.
There was but one way. I turned my horse straight at the steep bank,and he breasted it. One moment he hung as if he must fall back. Then,with a snort of terror and a desperate bound, he topped it, and gainedthe level, trembling and snorting.
It was as I had guessed. Seventy paces away on the road lay one of mymen. He had fallen, horse and man, and lay still. Near him, with hisback against a bank, stood his fellow, on foot, pressed by fourhorsemen, and shouting. As my eye lighted on the scene, he let flywith a carbine and dropped one.
I snatched a pistol from my holster, cocked it, and seized my horse bythe head--I might save the man yet. I shouted to encourage him,
and inanother second should have charged into the fight, when a suddenvicious blow, swift and unexpected, struck the pistol from my hand.
I made a snatch at it as it fell, but missed it; and before I couldrecover myself, Mademoiselle thrust her horse furiously against mine,and with her riding-whip, lashed the sorrel across the ears. As myhorse reared madly up, I had a glimpse of her eyes flashing hatethrough her mask; of her hand again uplifted; the next moment, I wasdown in the road, ingloriously unhorsed, the sorrel was gallopingaway, and her horse, scared in its turn, was plunging unmanageably ascore of paces from me.
I don't doubt that but for that she would have trampled on me. As itwas, I was free to draw; and in a twinkling I was running towards thefighters. All I have described had happened in a few seconds. My manwas still defending himself; the smoke of the carbine had scarcelyrisen. I sprang with a shout across a fallen tree that intervened; atthe same moment, two of the men detached themselves, and rode to meetme. One, whom I took to be the leader, was masked. He came furiouslyat me, trying to ride me down; but I leaped aside nimbly, and evadinghim, rushed at the other, and scaring his horse, so that he droppedhis point, cut him across the shoulder before he could guard himself.He plunged away, cursing, and trying to hold in his horse, and Iturned to meet the masked man.
"You double-dyed villain!" he cried, riding al. me again. And thistime he man[oe]uvred his horse so skilfully that I was hard put to itto prevent him knocking me down; and could not with all my effortsreach him to hurt him. "Surrender, will you!" he continued, "youbloodhound!"
I wounded him slightly in the knee for answer; but before I could domore his companion came back, and the two set upon me with a will,slashing at my head so furiously and towering above me with sogreat an advantage that it was all I could do to guard myself.I was soon glad to fall back against the bank--as my man had donebefore me. In such a conflict my rapier would have been of littleuse, but fortunately I had armed myself before I left Paris with acut-and-thrust sword for the road; and though my mastery of the weaponwas not on a par with my rapier-play, I was able to fend off theircuts, and by an occasional prick keep the horses at a distance. Stillthey swore and cut at me, trying to wear me out; and it was tryingwork. A little delay, the least accident, might enable the other manto come to their help, or Mademoiselle, for all I knew, might shoot mewith my own pistol; and I confess, I was unfeignedly glad when a luckyparade sent the masked man's sword flying across the road. He was nocoward; for unarmed as he was, he pushed his horse at me, spurring itrecklessly; but the animal, which I had several times touched, rearedup instead and threw him at the very moment that I wounded hiscompanion a second time in the arm, and made him give back.
This quite changed the scene. The man in the mask staggered to hisfeet, and felt stupidly for a pistol. But he could not find one, andwas, I saw, in no state to use it if he had. He reeled helplessly tothe bank, and leaned against it. He would give no further trouble. Theman I had wounded was in scarcely better condition. He retreatedbefore me for some paces, but then losing courage, he dropped hissword, and, wheeling round, cantered off down the road, clinging tohis pommel. There remained only the fellow engaged with my man, and Iturned to see how they were getting on. They were standing to takebreath, so I ran towards them; but, seeing me coming, this rascal,too, whipped round his horse, and disappeared in the wood, and left usmasters of the field. The first thing I did--and I remember it to thisday with pleasure--was to plunge my hand into my pocket, take out halfthe money I had in the world, and press it on the man who had foughtfor me so stoutly, and who had certainly saved me from disaster. In myjoy I could have kissed him! It was not only that I had escaped defeatby the skin of my teeth,--and his good sword,--but I knew, andthrilled with the knowledge, that the fight had altered the wholeposition. He was wounded in two places, and I had a scratch or two,and had lost my horse; and my other poor fellow was dead as a herring.But speaking for myself, I would have spent half the blood in my bodyto purchase the feeling with which I turned back to speak to M. deCocheforet and his sister. _I had fought before them_.
Mademoiselle had dismounted, and with her face averted and her maskpushed on one side, was openly weeping. Her brother, who hadscrupulously kept his place by the ford from the beginning of thefight to the end, met me with raised eyebrows and a peculiarsmile. "Acknowledge my virtue," he said airily. "I am here, M. deBerault--which is more than can be said of the two gentlemen who havejust ridden off."
"Yes," I answered, with a touch of bitterness. "I wish they had notshot my poor man before they went."
He shrugged his shoulders. "They were my friends," he said. "You mustnot expect me to blame them. But that is not all."
"No," I said, wiping my sword. "There is this gentleman in the mask."And I turned to go towards him.
"M. de Berault!" There was something abrupt in the way in whichCocheforet called my name after me.
I stood. "Pardon?" I said, turning.
"That gentleman?" he answered, hesitating, and looking at medoubtfully. "Have you considered--what will happen to him, if you givehim up to the authorities?"
"Who is he?" I said sharply.
"That is rather a delicate question," he answered, frowning, and stilllooking at me fixedly.
"Not from me," I replied brutally, "since he is in my power. If hewill take off his mask, I shall know better what I intend to do withhim."
The stranger had lost his hat in his fall, and his fair hair, stainedwith dust, hung in curls on his shoulders. He was a tall man, of aslender, handsome presence, and though his dress was plain and almostrough, I espied a splendid jewel on his hand, and fancied I detectedother signs of high quality. He still lay against the bank in ahalf-swooning condition, and seemed unconscious of my scrutiny."Should I know him if he unmasked?" I said suddenly, a new idea in myhead.
"You would," M. de Cocheforet answered simply.
"And?"
"It would be bad for every one."
"Ho, ho!" I said softly, looking hard, first at my old prisoner, andthen at my new one. "Then, what do you wish me to do?"
"Leave him here," M. de Cocheforet answered glibly, his face flushed,the pulse in his cheek beating. I had known him for a man of perfecthonour before, and trusted him. But this evident earnest anxiety onbehalf of his friend touched me. Besides, I knew that I was treadingon slippery ground; that it behoved me to be careful. "I will do it,"I said, after a moment's reflection. "He will play me no tricks, Isuppose? A letter of--"
"_Mon Dieu_, no! He will understand," Cocheforet answered eagerly."You will not repent it, I swear. Let us be going."
"Well,--but my horse?" I said, somewhat taken aback by this extremehaste.
"We shall overtake it," he replied urgently. "It will have kept to theroad. Lectoure is no more than a league from here, and we can giveorders there to have these two fetched in and buried."
I had nothing to gain by demurring, and so it was arranged. After thatwe did not linger. We picked up what we had dropped, M. de Cocheforetmounted his sister, and within five minutes we were gone. Casting aglance back from the skirts of the wood, as we entered it, I fanciedthat I saw the masked man straighten himself and turn to look afterus; but the leaves were beginning to intervene, the distance was greatand perhaps cheated me. And yet I was not disinclined to think theunknown a little less severely injured and a trifle more observantthan he seemed.
Historical Romances: Under the Red Robe, Count Hannibal, A Gentleman of France Page 11