CHAPTER XVI.
THE MERCY OF CAPTAIN FERRAGANT
I had come to a place where the road runs, narrower than ever, betweenbanks covered with bushes. All at once the perfect loneliness andsilence were broken by three or four men leaping out of the bushes infront of me and barring the way, one presenting a pistol, another a longpike, while a third prepared to seize my rein. I instantly spurredforward, to make a dash for it: at the same time I was conscious thatother fellows had sprung into the road behind me. The knave caught bothreins close to the bit, and hung on under the horse's head, while thepoor animal tried to rear. I drew sword and dagger, and leaned forwardto run this fellow through. As I made my thrust, my senses suddenly wentout in a kind of fire-streaked darkness. As I afterwards learned, I hadbeen struck on the back of the head with a loaded cudgel by one of theunseen men behind. When I came to myself I was lying on the earth in alittle bushy hollow away from the road: my hands were tied behind me,and around each ankle was fastened a rope, of which one of my assailantsheld the loose end. These two fellows and their four comrades wereseated on the ground, eating the fowls and drinking the wine and milk Ihad provided for the Countess. One of them wore my sword, another had mydagger. My purse lay empty on the grass, and my horse was hobbled withthe strap from my baskets.
My first thought was of the key. Searching about with my eyes, Ipresently saw it, with the other one, at the edge of the bushes, wherethey had doubtless been thrown as of no value.
My head was aching badly, but that was nothing to the terror in my heartfor the Countess: if I was hindered from going to her, who was to giveher aid?--nay, who was to release her from that dark hiding-place? Shewould die for lack of food and air,--her cell of refuge would be hertomb!
"Ah!" exclaimed one of the robbers; "the worthy young gentleman comes tolife."
"You are right," said I, trying to hit the proper mood in which to dealwith them. "I'm not sorry, either, as I was in some haste to get on. Myfriends, as you appear to have emptied me of everything that can be ofany use to you, what do you say to allowing my poor remaining self to goabout my business?"
"And to give information about us as soon as you get to Chateaudun, eh?"said one.
I was satisfied to let them think I was bound for Chateaudun.
"No," I replied. "Poor as I am, the toll you have collected from me isnot as much as my necessity of finishing my journey. So if you willuntie me, and can find it in your hearts to give me back my horse--or atworst to let me go afoot,--I will cry quits, and give you my word ofhonour to forget you completely."
"You speak well, young gentleman: but it's not to us that you needspeak. We shall be taking you presently to one you can make proposalsto."
"Why should you waste time in taking me to your leader, when you arequite able to make terms yourselves?" said I. "Come. I can offer him nomore than I can offer you. Suppose it were a hundred crowns: he wouldhave the lion's share of it, and you poor fellows would get but a smallpart. If I deal with you alone, he need be never the wiser, and you willhave the whole sum to divide among you."
"And how would you get the five hundred crowns?"
"I said one hundred: I would get them by going for them: I would giveyou my promise on the honour of a gentleman."
The ruffians laughed. "No," said the one who had spoken most. "You wouldhave to stay with us, and send for them. And our leader is the one tomanage that. He will make you a fine, fair offer, no doubt."
My heart sank. I tried persuasion, but nothing could move them.Doubtless each was afraid of the others, or they were very stronglyunder the dominion of their chief.
I asked them to give me back my keys, whereupon one of them put the keysin his own wallet. They finished the food and drink, and made ready todepart. Their preparations consisted mainly of blindfolding me with athick band of cloth, putting me on my horse, and tying together underthe animal's belly the ropes that bound my ankles. Then a man mountedbehind me, I heard another take the rein to lead, the horse was turnedaround several times so as to confuse my sense of direction, and we setoff. We presently crossed a stream, and a little later I knew by soundand smell that we were in the forest. When we had traversed a part ofit, the horse was again turned around twice or thrice, and we continuedon our way. All the time I was thinking of her who waited for me in thedarkness of her tomb-like prison.
At last, by feeling the sun upon me and by other signs, I knew that wehad come to a space clear of trees. We stopped a moment, and I heardcalls exchanged and a gate opened; and then my horse's feet passed fromturf to a very rough, irregular pavement. The sound of horses in theirstalls at one side, the cooing of pigeons at the other, the gate, therude paving, the remote situation, all taken together informed me thatwe were in an enclosed farm-yard. We stopped a second time, and my ankleropes being then detached from each other, I was hauled down from thehorse. The men with me were now greeted by others, who came apparentlyfrom the side buildings. I was led forward into a stone-floored passage,where I had to sit on a bench, guarded by I know not how many, while onewent up a flight of stairs near at hand, evidently to give an account oftheir prize to somebody in authority. Presently a voice from abovecalled down, "Bring the prisoner hither," and I was taken upstairs andthrough a doorway.
My entrance drew an ejaculation from a person already in the room, whothereupon gave orders in a low voice. I was made to sit on the floor,and my ankles were tied close together. A chain was then woundingeniously about my ankle-bonds, my legs, and the cords at my wrists;passed through a hole in the floor and around a cross beam, and finallyfastened with a padlock, in such a way that I was secured beyond powerof extricating myself.
"Now, go, and wait in the passage," said the voice in which the previousorders had been given. "But first take that rag from his eyes. He may aswell see: it will amuse him, and will not hurt us,--I will take care ofthat."
The band was removed, and I found myself in a bare, plastered room witha barred window. In front of me stood a large man with a mask on hisface. Where the mask ended, his beard began, so that he presented avisage entirely of black. The robbers who had brought me hither wentout, closing the door, and I was left alone with this man.
He regarded me a moment; then dropped into a chair, with a low grunt oflaughter.
"That it should be this fool, of all fools!" he began. "Who shall saythere is no such thing as luck? Monsieur, I am sure it will please youto know into whose hands you have fallen."
He took off his mask, and there was the red-splashed face of CaptainFerragant.
Surprise made me dumb for a moment, for he had hitherto disguised hisvoice. He sat looking at me with a most cruel expression of malevolenttriumph.
"So, this is where you have fled,--and you are the chief of therobbers!" said I.
"Call me that if you like. It matters nothing what names you prefer touse. No ears will ever hear them but mine; and mine will not be longafflicted with the sound."
I shuddered, for I knew the implacability of this man, and my deathmeant the death of the Countess,--death in the dark, mouldy basement ofthe tower, death by stifling and starvation while she waited in vain forme, a slow and solitary death, rendered the more agonizing to her mindby suspense and fears. And this horrible fate must needs be hers justwhen the cause of her sorrows and dangers had been removed! It was athought not to be endured.
"You will have your jest," said I. "But I see no reason why you shouldbear me malice. The Count de Lavardin is now a dead man, I hear. I canno longer be against him, nor you for him. Therefore bygones should bebygones, and I suppose you will make terms with me as with any other manwho happened to come before you as I do."
"You do me an injustice, young gentleman: I am not so mercenary,--I donot always make terms. It is true, I served the Count for pay; that iswhat my company is for, and if he had not gone out of his chateau tohunt his wife, we might have defended the place till the enemy was tiredout. But he allowed himself to be caught in the road,--you have heardthe news, then? Wh
at do they say of me?"
"That when you saw the Count was killed, you ran away."
"Yes, I was of no use to the Count then, and his own men in the chateauwere not well inclined toward me. They were for giving up the place, themoment he was dead. I thought best to save my good fellows for betterservice elsewhere."
"Then your company and the band of robbers in this forest are the same?"
"If you call them robbers,--they forage when there is need. I did nothave them all at the chateau. The good fellows who brought you here werenot at Lavardin with me. It is well, when one is in a place, to haveresources outside. And so we meet again, my young interloper! You wererude to me once or twice at Lavardin. I shall pay you for that, andsettle scores on behalf of my friend the Count as well."
"How much ransom do you want?" I asked bluntly. "Name a sum withinpossibility, and let me go for it immediately: you know well you canrely upon my honour to deliver it promptly at any place safe for both ofus, and to keep all a secret."
"Do not insult me again. I have told you I am above purchase."
Despite his jesting tone, my hope began to fall.
"You are not above prudence, at least," I said. "I assure you there arepeople who will move earth and heaven to find what has become of me, andwhose powers of vengeance are not light."
"If I went in fear of vengeance, my child, I should never pass an easymoment. I have learned how to evade it,--or, better still, to turn itback on those who would inflict it. I fear nobody. When the game is notworth the risk, one can always run away, as I did from Lavardin when theCount's death threw his men into a panic."
"Good God!" I cried, giving way to my feelings; "what will move you,then? What do you wish me to do? Shall I humiliate myself to plead formy life? shall I beg mercy? If I must descend to that, I will do so."
For you will remember another life than mine was staked upon my fate,and time was flying. How long could she endure without food, withoutdrink, without renewal of air, in that locked-up place of darkness?
"Mercy, I beg," I cried, in a voice broken by fears for her.
"You have hit upon the right way, at last," said the Captain, and myheart bounded in spite of his continued irony of voice and manner. "Youbeg for mercy, you shall have it. I will give you your life, and yourliberty as well: on your part, you will tell me where the Countess deLavardin is; as soon as I have made sure you have told the truth, I willset you free."
I gazed at him in silence.
"Is not that merciful?" said he; "a full pardon for all your affrontsand offences, in return for a trifling piece of information?"
"It is a piece of information I cannot give you," I replied.
"It is a waste of time and words to try to deceive me," said the redCaptain. "A young gentleman who risks so much for a lady as you havedone, and accomplishes so much for her,--yes, they were wonders ofprowess and courage, I admit, and I compliment you upon them,--a younggentleman who does all that for a lady does not so soon lose knowledgeof her whereabouts. Do not trifle with me, Monsieur. Where is theCountess? There is no other way by which you can save yourself."
"Do you think, then, a man who has shown the courage and prowess youmention, for the sake of a lady, would save himself by betraying her?"
"Oh, you are young, and may have many years before you--a life of greatsuccess and honour. There are other beautiful ladies in the world. In avery short time you can forget this one."
"I think it is for you to forget her," said I on the impulse. "As forme, I would rather die!"
Ah, yes, it was easy enough to die, if that were all: but to leave herto die, and in such a manner, was another thing. Yet I knew she wouldprefer death, in its worst form, to falling into the unrestrained handsof the red Captain. The man's eyes, from the moment when he introducedher name, betrayed the eagerness of his new hope to make himself hermaster,--though he still controlled his speech. I say his new hope, forit must have arisen upon the death of the Count, during whose life, notdaring openly to play the rival, he had found his only satisfaction in arevenge which provided that none might have what was denied to him. Itwas for me to decide now whether she should die or find herself at themercy of Captain Ferragant. Was it right that I should decide for her asshe would decide for herself? Was it for me to consign her to death,though I was certain that would be her own choice? Even though theCaptain found her, was not life, with its possible chance of futureescape, of her being able to move him by tears and innocence, of somefriendly interposition of fate, preferable to the sure alternative doom?
"I will leave you to make up your mind quietly," said the Captain. "Whenyou are ready to speak to the point, call to the men in thepassage,--one of them will come to me. The door will be left open. Ihope you will not be slow in choosing the sensible course: I cannot giveyou many hours for consideration."
He went out, addressed some orders to four or five men who sat on abench facing my door, and disappeared: I heard his feet descending thestairs. My door was left wide open, so that I was directly in the gazeof the men. But even if I had been unobserved, I could not have movedfrom the place where I sat. Any effort to break my bonds, either ofwrist or ankle, by sheer strength, was but to cause weakness and pain.My arms ached from the constraint of their position, and, because ofthem behind me, it was impossible to lie at full length on my back. Norwould the chain, without cutting into my thighs, permit me to lie oneither side. I was thus unable to change even my attitude.
But my discomforts of body were nothing in presence of the question thattore my mind. Minutes passed; time stretched into hours: still Idiscussed with myself, to which of the fates at my choice should Ideliver her? Should I give her to death, or to the arms of the redCaptain? Little as she feared the first, much as she loathed the second,dared I take it upon myself to assign her to death? Had it been meredeath, without the horrors of darkness and desertion, without theanxious wonder as to why I failed her, I should not have been long indeciding upon that. For that would be her wish, and I should not surviveher. Let us both die, I should have said; for what will life be to herafter she has fallen into the hands of this villain, and what to meafter I have delivered her into them? But the peculiar misery of thedeath that threatened her, kept the problem still busy in my mind.
And yet I could not bring myself to yield her to the Captain.
The day had become afternoon, and I still debated. The Countess musthave expected me to return before this time. What was her state now?what were her conjectures? Ah, thought I, if we had not found our way tothat lonely tower, if the storm had not come up the previous night, ifwe had started to leave the forest earlier!--nay, if I had had theprevision, upon hearing of the presence of robbers, to make her turnback to Chateaudun with me, and lodge quietly there until the MotherSuperior of the convent could be sounded, and a safe way of approach beascertained, all would now be well. We should have heard in the meantimeof the Count's death. Yes, everything had gone wrong since the Countesshad taken the road for the forest. The third of Blaise Tripault's maximswhich he had learned from the monk came back to me with all the force ofhapless coincidence:
"_Never leave a highway for a byway._"
The thought of Blaise Tripault made me think of my father. What amockery it was to know that I, chained helpless to the floor in thisremote stronghold of ruffians, was the son of him, the Sieur de laTournoire, the invincible warrior before whose sword no man could stay,and who would have rushed to the world's end to save me or any one Iloved! To consider my need, and his power to help, and that only hisignorance of my situation stood between, was so vexing that in mybitterness of soul, regardless of the men in the passage, I cried out tothe empty air, "Oh, my father! If you but knew!"
And then, for a moment, as if the bare wall were no impediment, I saw avision of my father, with his dauntless brow and grizzled beard, hisgreat long sword at his side, riding toward me among green trees.
The Bright Face of Danger Page 16