WE HUNT THE WILD BOAR
We reached home in the early afternoon. It was then that I got a clearer
vision of De Marsac’s duplicity and of the game that he was playing. No
sooner had we laid eyes upon my brother and the Count, when he began to
tell of our adventure in the woods in the most excited fashion. He drew
a most vivid picture of the danger I had been in. He painted himself in
the rôle of my rescuer. His voice took on a high tremulous tone as
though he too had suffered from the shock and were really alarmed at my
nearness to death. Every now and then he turned to me to bear him out in
this or that assertion but went rapidly on again before I had time to
utter a sound. He clapped me on the back. He tugged me by the elbow. He
looked beamingly into my face. To see and hear him you would have
thought that I was lucky to be alive and you would have considered him
the bravest man in the world.
At last with a fine frenzy he concluded.
“We must track this monster to his lair,” he shouted. “We must drive him
to his death.”
I was like a fish floundering on dry land. To me this man was all fraud
and froth. I looked appealingly towards my brother with the hope that he
would see beneath it all.
The old Count rose and stretched himself.
“André,” he said with a sly wink, “it’ll be a fine day’s sport. What do
you say?”
“We shall have everything ready by the morning, Sieur De Marsac,” he
said dryly. Then he turned to the old Count and said, “We must drive
this monster to its doom.”
With that he grinned and walked away.
That was final, I knew. I went off to the barn and busied myself during
the afternoon with odds and ends that interested me. The day passed and
the night came. We lighted the candles. Until the time for bed we sat in
the great hall exchanging worthless gossip.
I dragged myself upstairs first, tired and weary. But I managed to keep
awake until I heard the others follow one by one. When I thought them
fast asleep, I crept noiselessly into André’s room and sat softly down
on the side of his bed. To my surprise he had not closed his eyes.
“I was expecting you, Henri,” he said.
“I came to speak to you about De Marsac,” I began. “Don’t you think he
is bent on harm?”
“Are you worried?” he asked.
“I have good reason to be,” I replied. “It was only by a lucky chance
that I was not killed today.”
He sat bolt upright in the bed and took me by the arm.
“By him?” he demanded.
“Yes.” And I told him of the happenings in the woods.
“That is going too far,” he said. “Tomorrow must be his last day among
us. He must forth from the house.”
“Why does he linger here, André?” I asked. “Do you know?”
“I can only guess,” he answered.
“It is to get possession of our estate,” I ventured, “—ours and the
estate of the Count of Gramont. There is a plot hatching. The men who
set upon me in the woods are in it. And I believe that De Marsac is the
leader.”
“I rather thought,” said he, “that he was an agent of the King.”
“He is that and more too,” I replied. “André, you may take my word for
it. De Marsac wants this place for himself.”
He made no answer. We sat there in the dark for a long time. At length
he laid his hand upon my shoulder.
“Henri,” he said, “we must give the matter deep thought. But this I
promise you, come what may, after the boar hunt tomorrow I shall drive
this schemer from the house.”
With that I went slowly to my room. My sleep was fitful. All night long
I dreamed the wildest dreams so that when morning came I was not half
rested. I leaped from my bed with my heart thumping, for there below I
heard the cocks crowing in the yard. There was a clamor of men shouting
to each other. The horses’ hoofs clattered on the ground. There was the
clang of steel against steel. The animals snorted as they sensed the
excitement in the air. And above all I heard André’s voice shout a
command. I knew that it was high time for me to be about and stirring.
I slipped down the stairs fastening my belt as I went. In less time than
it takes to tell I was across the yard and was leading out the roan
which I had always claimed as my own.
We were divided into two parties. I was to accompany the one led by the
Count of Gramont, while André, with De Marsac, was to take the other.
Our enemy was in high spirits. He had borrowed one of André’s horses and
to display himself made it cavort and caper about with the glee of a
child. I fastened a look on him. I am sure I felt nothing but contempt
for a man so vain. I let my eye run from his hat with the feather in it
to the spurs upon his boots. The rest of us wore tight-fitting jerkins
of smooth leather, but he had on his long black cloak. It struck me as
being quite strange. I was beginning to wonder if he had a motive for it
when I saw that it was another trick of his, for beneath the skirts I
discovered that he had brought along with him his sword!
I did not think twice. I slipped from my horse and ran into the hall. In
a second I was back again with the weapon which my brother had used only
two nights before. I went to André where he was among the others and
tugged at his sleeve.
“Take this,” I urged. “Later on I’ll tell you the reason why.”
With that I was on my horse again. A long loud blast of the horn and we
were off. André and De Marsac swerved far to the west. The Count of
Gramont and our followers turned towards the south.
We were soon in the woods. The dogs ran hither and thither searching for
a scent. We rode where the trees were furthest apart lest the branches
that hung low might knock us from our saddles. Here and there the ground
was soggy, but for the most part we were not troubled with our footing
for we followed a road that the woodsmen had made, rough, irregular, to
be sure, but known to me and my companions.
Deeper and deeper we went into the forest. The smell of moss rose to my
nostrils and the odor of logs, rotted on the damp ground. The dogs
spread out more and more like a fan, with their noses to the earth,
eager and tense.
Presently one of them raised his head in the air. He let out a long
quivering bark that echoed strangely through the woods. Then the others
followed. The whole pack jumped and yelped as though they had suddenly
gone mad, and ran heedlessly forward. I was in need of no one to tell me
that they had caught the scent and were flying after their prey.
Then, after another short while, the sound of a horn floated high
through the branches of the trees. It seemed very far away. We rode on
and on. The heat of the excitement was showing in our faces. The horses,
too, snorted as though they were conscious of the strain.
The blast of the horn came again. This time it seemed nearer and more
prolonged, with a quivering at the end that sounded like jubilation.
“They’ve stirred the boar,” the old Count said to me, turning in his
saddle, and with a motion of his hand he gave the signal to one of his
followers to answer with a returning blast.
We were in the very thick of the woods. We had left the path and were in
places where the underbrush was dense. The trees, too, seemed larger and
of greater girth. Now and then a bird circled over our heads and flew
chattering about us.
A quarter of an hour passed, with the horn sounding now and then to give
us the direction. The dogs were running with their tongues hanging wet
and red from their mouths. The going was getting more and more
difficult.
Suddenly a blast, so loud that it shook us in our saddles, resounded in
our ears. The shouts of men came to us through the trees. The barking of
the dogs, sharp like the cracking of a whip, cut in between.
Before we knew it we were out in the open. That is we came to a place
where few trees grew. All was covered with a soft marsh that was like
ooze under the horses’ feet. The weeds and vines were waist high and so
knotted and enmeshed that we must go carefully through them.
The shouts came again. This time they were so near that I was able to
distinguish the words. I looked ahead to catch a glimpse of André and
his men. I saw the brush part at a spot not far away. Then, to my
amazement, I heard the angry snort of a boar and, directly following,
the long hairy back of the animal burst upon my vision.
I reined in my horse. The old Count of Gramont (who was to the fore of
me) caught his spear by the haft. The dogs came pouring into the opening
like rain. One of them ventured in close to the boar and in the next
second was sent yelping back with a wound in his shoulder where he had
been pierced by a white tusk.
The animal was foaming at the mouth from frenzy. He knew that he was
beset by enemies on all sides. He lowered his head till it touched the
ground and made a mad plunge forward.
At the same moment I saw André appear through the trees. At his side
rode De Marsac. They let out a shout and looked swiftly over to us. The
old Count and I raised our spears on high. I knew that in a moment the
boar was doomed, for between us there was little chance of his escape.
While I leaned back to get the greatest force behind my blow, I caught
sight of my brother and our enemy opposite. A smile started on my face
but it died away again. Both men whipped their spears aloft. Without a
moment’s delay they whirled sidewise in their saddles. Their arms shot
back and then forward again. The bright steel darted through the air
like long glistening threads. They crossed in their flight as shears are
crossed when you open them, and flitted onward. At the same time I let
mine go too and fixed my eyes upon the boar.
Only one of the spears struck, but it was hurled with such force that it
caught the boar in the middle of the back and pierced clean to the
region of his heart. While it was in full career, it faltered in its
plunge. Stumbling, it dug its tusks into the earth. Then it rolled over,
kicking among the underbrush, and stretched out dead.
You must remember that all this happened in a very brief time. A feeling
of triumph ran along every nerve. I turned towards the old Count with my
face beaming with delight, when I saw him swaying unsteadily in his
seat. He had gone ashen pale. The spear had dropped from his hand and
his fingers were clutching at the empty air. Then, unable to steady
himself any longer, he leaned far to the one side and tumbled headlong
from his saddle.
On the instant I forgot all about the boar. I was down from my horse
like a flash and at his side. To my horror the fresh blood was flowing
in a steady stream from a wide-open gash in his chest. I raised his head
and laid it in the hollow of my bended arm and looked around appealingly
for help. His lips moved as though he would speak. But no words came.
His eye-lids quivered. Then, with a gasp, he fell back.
In the meantime André and De Marsac were at my side. My brother stooped
down and spoke to the old Count. That other stood aloof. His glance was
turned half-way towards us and half-way towards the woods. The faintest
trace of a smile flickered on his face and his eyes beamed as though
with inward satisfaction.
“Is he dead?” he demanded finally.
I laid the old Count gently down. André and I stood for a moment with
our heads bowed to breathe a prayer.
“He has been killed!” replied my brother with anger and bitterness
bursting his heart.
To our amazement De Marsac stepped forward and touched André on the arm.
“You will have to answer for this deed with your life, André La Mar,” he
said coldly. “You are the murderer of one of the foremost barons of
Normandy!”