CHAPTER IV
THE ROAD TO PASSEY
That intricate calculations occupied Father Bertrand's mind as heslowly paced his room from end to end was apparent in his face.Ascetic in appearance, wont to present a calm exterior under the mosttrying circumstances, the fact of his restlessness proved that he hadreached some crisis, that some part of his scheme was on the point ofsettlement. Father Bertrand was a power in Vayenne. Not greatlybeloved, perhaps--he was too stern and unbending for that--hispriestly office, nevertheless, appealed strongly to a people naturallysuperstitious, while his learning and political acumen made himforceful with those who ruled. He held no office; but even the lateDuke, strong as he was, had sometimes been guided by his opinion, andCount Felix recognized long ago, that, in his claim to the Dukedom,the support of Father Bertrand would be of very real value.
If he is a weak man who cannot refrain from speaking his thoughts, thepriest was a very strong man, for to no one had he betrayed himself.Count Felix felt confident of his support; Mademoiselle de Liancourtbelieved that he heartily shared her ideas of right and justice;while, as a priest, he spoke with authority to the great mass of thepeople, who believed his policy based entirely upon his religion. Afew who fondly believed themselves in his confidence, but were inreality little more than his tools, knew at least that other schemeswere working in his mind, and that, as a member of a secret order,his information was invariably correct and reached him long before itwas known in the castle. In a peculiar sense he was all things to allmen, yet really known by none. Such a man must needs walk warily, forhis path is beset with snares.
Father Bertrand, moreover, was a man of wealth. His charity was knownin Vayenne, yet he fared simply himself, it was whispered; and therewere those who could tell of the mean, poor room he occupied in hishouse in the Rue St. Romain, a room little removed as regards comfortfrom that of the ordinary toiler of the city. But there were otherrooms in the house in the Rue St. Romain, and there was no lack ofluxury in the large chamber on the upper floor which the priest pacedslowly from end to end to-night. It was evidence not only of wealth,but of taste, too, and had they known of it, many in Vayenne wouldprobably have formed a different estimate of Father Bertrand'scharacter.
Absorbed as he was in his calculations, the priest was keenly alive toevery new sound in the street or in the house. Several times he pausedto listen, and once drew aside the heavy window curtains to look downinto the street below. The Rue St. Romain lay along the north side ofthe Church of St. Etienne, and was little frequented after nightfall.Any excitement resulting from the death of the Duke would hardlypenetrate here.
There was a knocking at the door at last, and Father Bertrandimmediately took his seat at a large writing-table, and, drawing someof the papers with which it was covered toward him, began to studythem carefully. No matter how agitated he might be in thought, hisvisitor would only see him calm and self-possessed, and doubtless bemore impressed than ever with the priest's strength of character.
A man entered and closed the door behind him.
"We have failed, father."
"Only a weak man admits that, Monsieur Mercier. Where is NicolasPigou?"
"At death's door. He is still unconscious, and the surgeon I got tohim declares that half of his ribs at least must be broken."
The priest did not speak, but by a gesture asked the reason of thiscatastrophe.
"Our opportunity came when the stranger had passed through the arch ofthe great clock into the dark street beyond," said Mercier. "We hadapproached close behind him when he suddenly turned, coming intocollision with us. We had planned to take him quickly, place him in acarriage which had followed us, and bring him here, but his unexpectedaction thwarted this. Pigou passed on, and to gain time I began toapologize. Then Pigou seized him from behind, and I immediately closedwith the man. Pigou is strong, as you are aware, but he was a babe inthe hands of this stranger, who, with a heave of his body threw himover his head into the roadway. I should have fared no better had Inot slipped to the ground and, holding his legs, shouted 'Spy!' Thestreet was alive in a minute; but I have bruises about me which willlast for many a day to come."
"And then?" said the priest quietly.
"The crowd hustled him to the end of the street, and would have hangedhim there, probably, but it seems they were met by a company ofsoldiers, and the stranger is now a prisoner in the castle."
"You saw the soldiers take him?"
"No; I heard that later," Mercier answered. "I slipped from the crowd,and went to look after poor Pigou. There might have been awkwardquestions asked had he been found in the street."
"I am sorry for Nicolas Pigou," said Father Bertrand, "but if a brokenrib or two is all the payment, our enterprise is cheaply won. Why doyou talk of failure, Monsieur Mercier?"
"Is it not failure then?"
"Surely not. There are more ways of reaching a place than by the highroad. This stranger is no spy. I shall prove that to Count Felix, andwe gain our end. Indeed, circumstances have favored us. The strangerwill look upon me as his deliverer, and will be the more ready to beadvised. I doubt not we shall have him in this house within a fewhours. Were you recognized by the crowd to-night?"
"No. I am known to few in Vayenne."
"Then, my dear Monsieur Mercier, two desperate villains set upon thispoor stranger in the streets; one is like to die, it is said--theother has succeeded in escaping. This is my story--a good andplausible one, eh?" said Father Bertrand, with a smile; "and sincejustice done quickly has the greater mercy in it, I will go to thecastle at once."
"And Gaspard Lemasle?" said Mercier as the priest rose.
"He will dance to our piping, but we shall keep him always on thechain. Untrammelled he might be dangerous."
"Is the chain forged that will hold him?"
"My son, I never confide in a man of whom I am ignorant. My friendsmay rest assured that I treasure some knowledge of them, some episode,perhaps, which they have forgotten, but which in an emergency willcompel them to remain my friends." And while he laid one hand on hiscompanion's arm, he touched his own forehead significantly with theother. "Come with me into another room. My servant shall set beforeyou wine of such a vintage that you shall forget your bruises. And donot leave, Monsieur Mercier, until you are rested. Indeed, if I findyou asleep in your chair when I return, I will not quarrel with you."
As he followed the priest, Mercier's estimate of his companionpossibly took a wider scope than it had done before, and he wonderedwhich of the many episodes in his life which he was unlikely to talkof the priest knew most about.
It was conclusive proof of Father Bertrand's power with the late Dukeand Count Felix that he was admitted to the castle without question atso late an hour; and that the soldiers bowed to his authority wasapparent when his suggestion that he should see the spy before he sawthe Count met with no opposition.
"Lodged in the South Tower?" he said as he followed the jailer.
"Ay, father; it's the safest cage we have."
"Too safe for an innocent bird, master jailer."
"Well, I know naught of his innocence," said the jailer as he thrustthe great key into the lock, "but I'm not regretting that he shouldcheat death. There's no fear about him, and there's none too manybrave men in the world that we should want to hurry them out of it."
The jailer had a torch, and he preceded the priest down the narrowpassage in the thickness of the walls.
"Asleep, prisoner?" he called out. "Here's a reverend father to seeyou, and he comes as a friend."
There was no answer, and priest and jailer looked slowly round thecell, then at each other, and then at the barred window. No ray ofmoonlight came through it now, but the moonlit sky was clear without,and there was no one crouching on the ledge!
The measured tread halting suddenly below, and the sound of thegrating key within, had had a paralyzing effect upon both fugitive andguide for a moment. Although prepared to make a fight for it, theposition appeared hopeless to Herrick
; but the dwarf, who had perhapsforeseen that they would have the sentry to deal with, was quick tograsp the situation and see the way out of the difficulty. Theterrace, which was considerably above the level of the floor of thecell, was only some twelve or fourteen feet below them. It wascomparatively narrow and bounded by a low, battlemented wall.
"That's our road," whispered the dwarf, pointing to a certain point inthis wall a little to their right. "Jump, and make for it."
As he spoke he whipped out his knife, and tucking his legs under himsuddenly let himself drop upon the sentry. The thud of the fall and afeeble, stifled groan were all Herrick heard as he, too, jumped fromthe ledge, and, trusting implicitly to his companion, ran to the spothe had indicated. As he looked back, the dwarf rose and came quicklyafter him, but the sentry lay under the window and did not move.
"You have killed him!" Herrick exclaimed.
"Sharp, after me," the dwarf said, springing onto the wall, and then,as Herrick followed him, he threw himself on his stomach, twistedhimself round, and holding onto the rough stonework let his legs hangdown on the outside of the wall. "That's it, do the same. There's arope here. Go steady! I'll go first. Now let me catch hold of yourfeet, and get the rope between them. The stones are rough enough tolower yourself by until you get a grasp on the rope with your hands."
This was the outer wall of the castle, and in the angle formed by abuttress a stout rope had been fixed.
Herrick found it no easy matter to follow the dwarf's instructions,and had he paused to consider, might have declined to make theperilous descent at all. But with Jean's help from below he managed toget the rope between his knees, and the rest was comparatively easy.
Some distance below was the roof of a house which clung to the castlewall like a mussel to a rock. The dwarf caught Herrick to steady himas he landed on the roof, for it sloped at a sharp angle, and wasdilapidated.
"Sit, and put your hand on my shoulder, and shuffle down after me," hesaid. "Now carefully. Catch hold of this rafter. Let yourself swing,and drop lightly. It's barely four feet fall for your length of body."
Herrick did as he was told, and dropped into a dark attic, followed bythe dwarf.
"You please me, friend Roger," said Jean, chuckling quietly. "Myprivate road is not an easy one to travel in a hurry, and the man whotakes it is not likely to wear a scared face and feel his kneestremble when danger comes."
"I like not murder, friend Jean."
"You'd like being murdered less, I warrant," was the prompt answer."Besides it wasn't murder, for two reasons. Killing a man inself-defence is not murder, and you're likely to do it yourself beforemany hours have passed if you would serve Mademoiselle; and secondly,the sentry yonder isn't dead. I had to let his strength out of anartificial hole lest it should come through his mouth in a shout whichwould have betrayed us. He will be well on his way to recovery beforea new moon, and, if not, there are plenty more sentries in the castleto take his place. Come, you are not out of Vayenne yet, and you mustbe on your way to Passey before the dawn."
The dwarf led the way down two flights of broken stairs, and throughthe door of the house, and passed into a narrow, deserted street.
"We'll go quickly," he whispered. "No one will suspect you in thosegarments. We shall meet few, and they will think that some one dyinghas need of a priest, and that I have fetched you. I have done itoften before."
They passed through a perfect labyrinth of narrow streets in silence,and the two or three night wanderers they met took no notice of them.
Vayenne was asleep under the pale moon; that temporary death calledsleep was in every habitation. The dead Duke in his chamber in thecastle was hardly less silent than the sleeping thousands he hadruled.
Presently the dwarf stopped before the door of a house at the end of ablind alley.
"We go in here, friend Roger," he said, "but by a window. The door islocked, because they who own the place still hope for a tenant, whichis a forlorn hope. The house grows more rotten every day, water ratsmake a retreat of it, and some mischievous person has said it ishaunted by a horrible ghost."
"You are that mischievous person, I suppose."
"Why think so ill of me?" chuckled the dwarf. "When I don't wish toleave the city by the gates, this is the way I go."
He led the way to a room at the top of the house.
"From the roof we scramble onto the city wall, which is low here, andrough, for the river washes its base. Sometimes, I just drop into thewater, and swim, but under a low arch there is an old boat, which wewill use to-night. Have you money in your purse, friend Roger?"
"A little."
"You may want more. I came provided. Here is gold," he said, taking asmall leathern bag from the folds of his blouse. "Put it awaycarefully. You can repay me another time. Remain a priest, it mayserve you to get audience with Mademoiselle more easily, but althoughpriest without, you must be soldier within."
The dwarf went to a corner of the room, and, wrenching up a board,knelt down, and thrust his long arm into the opening, from which hedrew out a sword and a revolver.
"Strap this under your robe," he said, handing Herrick the sword, "andput the revolver where you may come at it easily. And listen, friendRoger. You must come at Mademoiselle de Liancourt as your wits serveyou; tell her what I have told you. She will not easily believe thetale, but you must convince her; and for the rest, circumstances mustguide you."
"Do you not come with me then?"
"A little way to show you the road, then I return to plot in the city.Were I a straight man as you are, I might not have come for youto-night. That's a dark saying--I wonder if you can read its meaning?"
"I cannot, friend Jean."
"Well, you'll want all your wits for your enterprise; it's a pity towaste them on riddles. But remember this, friend Roger: when I wasmade in this queer shape, an ordinary heart was put into me, andthere was no strange twist given to my feelings. We are not so verydifferent, you and I, after all. Come, we waste precious time."
There was no great difficulty in scrambling onto the wall from theroof of the house, and, bidding Herrick wait, the dwarf climbed downthe face of the wall almost as easily as the rough stones of it hadbeen steps. Working his way along a narrow stone course, or ledge,which was near the bottom, he reached an iron ring let into the wall,and, supporting himself by this, managed to drag out a small,flat-bottomed boat from beneath a nearly submerged archway.
Having carefully watched the descent of his companion, Herrickattempted to make as little of the matter as he had done. The descentended in a sudden and rather unsteady jump, which almost sank therickety old craft, and Herrick would certainly have fallen sidewaysinto the water had not his companion caught him.
A fairly strong stream was running, and they were carried down sometwo hundred yards in the process of crossing. A belt of trees in athick undergrowth screened the landing-place.
"I have a friend here," said the dwarf. "We will not wake himto-night, but we will borrow his horse. I will explain to-morrow."
There was a small house nestling under a clump of trees, and on theopposite side of a roadway a shed at the corner of a field. To thisthe dwarf went, and it was evident that he knew every corner of itintimately, for in a few moments he had saddled the horse there andled it out.
"We don't want to wake the good man, so we'll walk the animal alongthe grass for a little way," he said. "There is a gate higher up. Youfollow this road, friend Roger; it runs without interruption for manymiles. At a wayside Calvary it forks; take the right-hand road. Fivemiles will bring you to a deep wood, and I have heard of thievesthere, so it would be well to have your revolver ready. Once out ofthe wood keep the lefthand road, and to your left you will presentlysee the Chateau of Passey on high ground. Perhaps it would be well tolet your horse go free then, and enter the village on foot. A mountedpriest might cause wonder, and the horse may find his way home. Hereis the gate. Mount, friend Roger. Use your horse well, and you will bein Passey before noon."
"You will be clever if you do, since they have gone by a different anda shorter road, one which might not be safe for you to travel. Theywill be in Passey by dawn."
"And how shall I let you know how I fare and where fortune may takeme?"
"Success or failure, I shall hear soon enough," the dwarf answered."Remember only that you serve Mademoiselle de Liancourt, and that allprison windows have not bars which may be lifted out. Farewell!" Andwithout another word, he turned, and hurried back to the river-bank,where his boat lay.
So it happened that as Father Bertrand went back to the Rue St.Romain, and the alarm given by the jailer presently resulted in thefinding of the wounded sentry, Roger Herrick was galloping through thenight toward Passey and the woman he was destined to serve.
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