Early the next morning, immediately after sunrise, the Saxon regiment
fell back upon Nontron. The weather was superb, and had its effect upon
both officers and men, although Count von Schlichting felt it his duty
to warn Captain von Saeben before his departure that he must be upon his
guard against treachery. The old colonel did not like to leave so small
a force in so hostile a country, infested on all sides by franctireurs,
and not even the brilliant sunshine and the relief from inaction could
altogether dispel his regret at leaving them thus.
Kurt von Poseneck was at some distance from Assais when the Saxons left
it. He had, with a command of about a dozen Uhlans, been ordered to
make a reconnoissance in search of franctireurs, and he could not, of
course, take leave of his friends. When he returned in the afternoon
Arno and Styrum had both gone, and Kurt found only his captain, Von
Saeben, and two comrades ready in the large dining-hall to partake of
the excellent dinner provided for them by Monsieur Gervais.
Had the sun not shone so brilliantly the large hall would have seemed
gloomy enough, and even as it was the emptiness and quiet of the
apartment, where lately so much noisy gayety had held sway, had a
depressing effect upon the Uhlan officers, which Kurt's report was not
calculated to dissipate. Even Von Saeben looked grave, and was reminded
of the colonel's parting words.
Kurt had nowhere found an enemy; if there really were bands of
franctireurs in the vicinity they had withdrawn into the forest of
Assais, which afforded hiding-places from which cavalry were powerless
to drive them. This forest was a sort of continuation of the castle
park, and if danger there were, it lay in the probability of an attack
upon the castle from this direction. That such a danger existed Kurt
was convinced by the behaviour of the country-people in all directions.
They had shown no open hostility to the Uhlans, but their demeanour had
been that of men looking forward to a time near at hand when they might
take revenge upon their foes. At all events this had been the
impression produced upon Kurt's mind, and Captain von Saeben so far
heeded it as to double the watch at various posts around the castle,
and to take other precautions to insure safety.
Kurt withdrew early from the dinner-table, intending to write letters
in his room, and as he passed along the corridor towards it his resolve
of the previous night suddenly occurred to his mind. He was directly
opposite the door at which Gervais had appeared, and the steward was at
present busy in the dining-hall, which he could not leave for some time
to come. There could be no time more favourable than the present for
his exploration of this part of the castle. He tried the door at which
he stood: it opened easily; he entered, and closed it behind him.
He found himself in a large room hung with blue, and somewhat dark, as
it was lighted by but one window; it was only a thoroughfare, as was
plain from the furniture, that consisted simply of cabinets placed
against the walls. Kurt went to the window, and found that he had been
correct in suspecting that the room led to the wing extending into the
park, in which were the Baron's apartments; before him was the lawn, in
front of the Baron's windows, and to the left was the park itself; he
could even see the path by which he, with his two friends, had on the
previous day visited the stables at the back of the gardener's house,
where the Baron kept a fine pair of riding-horses, belonging to his
cousin the Marquise.
Which of the four doors that opened into this apartment should he
select? He tried the one nearest him; it was unlocked, and he entered a
room furnished with the greatest luxury, and leading by an open door to
a bedroom as gorgeously fitted up. A writing-table stood beside the
window, and an open portfolio, from between the leaves of which, as
Kurt took it up, fluttered a torn envelope, addressed in German to the
"Herr Count Repuin." Count Repuin! Kurt knew the name but too well.
Herr Ahlborn had at Lucie's request told him his daughter's sad story,
and this name was branded in his memory as that of Lucie's unprincipled
persecutor. And he found it here upon an empty envelope postmarked
Brussels. The connection was easy to divine, Repuin was the brother of
the Marquise de Lancy, and the former inmate of this room. But he had
not fled to Germany alone: Sorr had accompanied him. There suddenly
occurred to Kurt an explanation of the fact that Styrum, Arno, and the
colonel, to all of whom Sorr was personally known, had been puzzled by
the resemblance of the Baron de Nouart to some one whose name they
could not recall. If all this were as he suspected, if Repuin, the
proscribed French agent, were really the brother of the Marquise de
Lancy, if his tool, Sorr, were here in the castle in disguise,
certainly the greatest caution was necessary; there was danger of
treachery on every hand, danger that perhaps could be averted only by
the instant arrest of the Baron de Nouart. And yet, could mere
suspicion justify such an arrest? The man would have to be taken to
Nontron, and tried there by a court-martial, which, under the direction
of the pitiless Count Schlichting, could end but in one way,--death.
Kurt thought of Celia's friend, of Frau von Sorr; the death of her
worthless husband would restore her to life. But in an instant he
spurned the unworthy thought. His friendship for Lucie should never
influence him where duty was concerned. This duty, however, bade him
reveal his discovery to his superior officer; it was for him to command
in this matter, Kurt's part was to obey.
The light was dying in the west, he had not time to continue his
explorations thoroughly, and, after satisfying himself that this room
was connected with De Nouart's apartments by a winding staircase, which
led past servants' rooms, Kurt returned unmolested to the blue room,
whence he issued unobserved into the corridor leading to his own and
Von Saeben's quarters.
He found his captain just returned to his room from a tour of
inspection of the posts about the castle, and quite ready to listen to
all that he had to say. Of course Von Saeben knew nothing of Repuin or
of Sorr. Kurt explained who they were, and their complicity in
treasonable plots in Germany, without in any way mentioning Frau von
Sorr. They were both proscribed French agents.
"The address on the envelope is, after all, your only ground for
suspicion that the proscribed Count Repuin is one and the same person
with the brother of the Marquise de Lancy, and that the Baron de Nouart
is a German, and the Herr von Sorr of whom you speak," the captain
said, when Kurt had finished his narrative.
"That and the resemblance observed by Count Schlichting, Count Styrum,
and the Baron von Hohenwald between the Baron de Nouart and some one
whom they had seen."
"But neither of these gentlemen was reminded of Sorr. Count Schlichting
has told me that he has an excellent memory for faces, and should
recognize one that he had once seen, even after twenty years. Would he
not instantly have known Sorr?"
"He probably never imagined that he should find him here in France
under the name of the Baron de Nouart. The Baron's avoidance of us, and
his pretended ignorance of the German language, seem to me very
suspicious circumstances." Kurt remarked.
"And yet they are hardly sufficient to warrant my arresting him and
sending him to Nontron," the captain replied. "The colonel is an
excellent man, but he is fond of a short shrift, and apt to take
suspicion for certainty. If he should discover Sorr and the Baron to be
one and the same person, he would have the poor devil shot without more
ado; and it may be that, even although he wishes to avoid us, he does
not meditate treachery. I am not fond of courts-martial, Herr von
Poseneck, and I do without them when I can. Your discovery is certainly
of importance, and it behooves us to be more upon our guard than ever.
We have been imprudent in instituting no thorough search of the castle.
This shall be undertaken to-morrow, and if we find proof of the Baron's
guilt he shall be brought to justice."
All the officers, Kurt with the rest, retired early on this evening,
Kurt imagining that the fatigue and excitement of the day would insure
him instant repose. But this was not so; he lay awake hour after hour;
sleep fled his eyelids. In vain did he woo her by all familiar means,
counting slowly to one hundred, reciting mentally verses learned in
childhood; he could not banish from his mind his last conversation with
his captain.
At last he sprang out of bed. Better to pace his room to and fro for an
hour than toss restlessly there. The moon was at the full. Kurt went to
the window, whence he had a clear view of the spacious court-yard of
the castle. Opposite lay the farm-buildings in which a part of the
Uhlans were quartered, the stalls being appropriated to their horses,
and back of those Kurt could in the brilliant moonlight get a view of a
portion of the broad road leading to the village. The court-yard was
empty; the two sentinels posted in front of the stables were slowly
pacing to and fro, their sabres resting negligently in their arms, and
one of them, as Kurt was looking, so far forgot his duty in his sense
of security as to lean against the house and rest. This was a culpable
want of the vigilance which the captain had enjoined upon the guards on
the previous evening. The lives of many might depend upon the
watchfulness of any one of the sentinels posted in the court-yard.
Kurt left the window and dressed, not hastily, but quite leisurely; he
would himself go down to the court-yard and make an example of any
soldier not vigilant at his post. He needed no light; the moonlight was
all that he required. When quite dressed he sat for a moment, his head
resting on his hand, reflecting whether it were not perhaps best to
visit the sentries placed in the park, when he was suddenly startled by
a shot; another and another came in quick succession, and then followed
a sharp rattle of musketry, apparently in the very court-yard.
Kurt rushed to the window. Where was the scene of repose and security
upon which he had looked out little more than a quarter of an hour
previously? A disorderly crowd of armed men, some hundreds strong, was
pouring in at the court-yard gates and rushing towards the farm
buildings and stables, while along the road from the village a dark
mass was moving quickly, the moonlight glinting here and there upon
polished rifle-barrels. In a few moments the assailants had attained
their end; the two sentinels were shot down, the doors of the farm
buildings and stables were forced; there were but a few scattered
carbine-shots in answer to the continuous rattle of musketry; victory
over the Uhlans quartered there was easy for such overpowering numbers.
One glance sufficed to show Kurt the danger threatening the entire
squadron. All in the farm buildings were lost; it might still be
possible, however, to save the officers in the castle and the men in
the village, but not a moment must be wasted, for already about thirty
franctireurs had turned from the farm buildings and were advancing
towards the castle. Kurt's presence of mind stood him in stead now as
it had done formerly in America. He saw plainly that there was but one
course by which death or capture could be evaded,--flight. Resistance
to such an overwhelming force would be madness. He could not even rouse
his brother officers on the ground-floor of the castle; the
franctireurs would be there before him. The captain he could rouse, and
together they might escape into the side wing of the castle, through
the room explored so short a time since by Kurt, and thence into the
park. If they could succeed in reaching the stables behind the
gardener's house, where they had seen the horses, they might perhaps be
able to ride by roundabout ways to the village in time to save the
Uhlans quartered there. In an instant Kurt had girded on his sabre and
armed himself with a revolver; then opening the door of the captain's
room, he found Von Saeben just about to step out of it. He had been
unwilling, after his conversation with Kurt, to go to bed, but had
determined to inspect the various posts after midnight, and had thrown
himself into an arm-chair, where, however, he had slept soundly until
awakened by the noise of the struggle in the court-yard. He, too, had
recognized from his window, as Kurt had done, the folly of resistance
to so numerous a foe, but he was nevertheless about to go down to the
court-yard when Kurt rushed into his room. "You were right, Herr von
Poseneck," he said; "that villain Sorr has betrayed us! All is lost!
There is nothing for us but to die with our brave fellows; our place is
down there among them."
He spoke as quietly as though he were inviting Kurt to walk with him in
the park; he awaited no reply, but was striding on to the head of the
grand staircase when Karl detained him. "There is nothing to be done
down there captain," he said; "the castle is lost, but we may escape to
the village and muster our men."
"How? In one minute the rogues will be in the castle; the maire of the
village and Gervais--I recognized them both--are leading the band that
is evidently resolved upon capturing us in our rooms."
"Still there is no need to throw away our lives,--we must make an
attempt to save our fellows in the village; perhaps escape is possible
through the side-wing."
"Go on; I will follow you!"
Not another word was spoken; Kurt hurried on, revolver in hand, the
captain close upon his heels. When the two officers had reached the
blue room they could plainly hear the blows of the franctireurs upon
the doors of the rooms on the ground-floor; in another instant the two
men had entered the room, closed the door behind them, and hurried
through the other apartments towards the side-wing.
"Saved," whispered Kurt; "no one is quartered in this wing, we shall
encounter no enemy here." He was right; neither the Baron de Nouart nor
Gervais had dreamed that the German officers could escape through this
unknown wing and no precautions had been taken to prevent their doing
so. The wing was deserted and silent; the din of the struggle in the
court-yard sounded indistinct and muffled. Kurt, followed by his
captain, rushed down the winding staircase to the passage on the
ground-floor. By this the captain would have gained the park; but Kurt
again detained him. "That door can be seen from the court-yard," he
said, "and if we are perceived we shall have the whole rabble about our
ears. We must find a way into the park through the window of some one
of these rooms." He tried the first door they came to; it opened and
admitted the two officers to a lighter apartment. Here an unexpected
sight met their eyes. In an arm-chair before a table, upon which stood
his beloved brandy-flask, sat the Baron de Nouart. He had had recourse
to his favourite stimulant to steady his nerves while he sat in
terrified expectation of the attack. A revolver lay upon the table
ready, if he should be forced to take any part in the fray.
When the door was suddenly opened and he saw before him the two
Prussian officers, Kurt with a revolver, the captain with a drawn
sabre, the Baron sprang to his feet and glared at the intruders with
lack-lustre eyes. He was half intoxicated, he could hardly stand
upright, but he still had sense enough to clutch at his revolver to
defend himself.
But his hand never touched the weapon; before he could grasp it the
captain stretched him on the floor with a tremendous blow, delivered
with all his force, of his drawn sabre. He fell without a sound.
"Is he dead?" the captain asked.
"We cannot wait to see," Kurt replied; "at all events he cannot betray
us!" And he hurried to the window. The lawn between the wing and the
forest lay quiet in the moon light; not a man was to be seen. He
listened,--only the distant noise in the court-yard fell upon his ear.
He opened the window and lightly sprang out; the captain followed him,
confiding himself blindly to Kurt's guidance. They ran with lightning
speed across the lawn, and then in the shadow of the forest to the
gardener's house. All here was quiet,--every one had hurried to the
court-yard; the stable-door was open; there stood the two noble horses,
their saddles and bridles hanging upon the wall.
In less time than it takes to tell it the two cavalry officers were in
the saddle and galloping furiously by a back-road to the village.
A savage yell resounded from the castle. From one of the lighted
windows of the wing several shots were fired, but the bullets whistled
harmlessly past the riders' ears; the bewildering moonlight prevented
the marksmen from aiming truly.
"Our flight is discovered. The forest is our only chance. This way!"
Kurt cried, as he drove the spurs into his horse's sides and turned
towards a narrow forest road that led by a longer roundabout way to the
village.
The captain followed; but just as he entered the woods several shots
again flashed from the castle window; he wavered in his saddle: a
bullet had struck him in the side; he grasped his horse's mane with his
right hand, and managed to keep his seat and continue his furious
gallop after Kurt.
The fugitives succeeded at last in gaining the open beyond the wood,
but here Kurt first noticed his companion's convulsive grip of his
horse's mane and his failing exertions to keep himself upright in the
saddle. "Are you wounded?" he asked, anxiously.
There was no reply. Loss of blood had produced unconsciousness, and
Kurt caught his captain in his arms just in time to prevent him from
falling from his horse. He dismounted with his lifeless burden, and,
laying it upon the grass beneath a tree, looked about for help. He
remembered that a mounted sentinel had been stationed here, where the
forest road ended in the open; but there was no horseman to be seen. He
could not have deserted his post; a brief inspection of the surrounding
field in the moonlight showed him that the soldier had been true to his
duty; he was lying dead in a pool of blood at a little distance; his
horse was nowhere to be seen, probably his murderers had carried it
off.
What was to be done? Every moment of delay was ruin. The enemy had
discovered the flight of the two officers, there were horses enough to
be had for pursuit, and, although Kurt's short experience of his steed
had convinced him that he need not dread this for himself, he could not
desert his captain; how was he to be carried to a place of safety? Duty
called Kurt to Assais, where, as a few straggling shots informed him,
the fray had already begun, and duty forbade his abandoning his wounded
captain to the pursuing franctireurs. He could not delay, the moments
were priceless. "To Assais!" he exclaimed to himself. The outnumbered
Uhlans there needed a leader, who might perhaps save some few from
captivity and death; the captain himself would never have hesitated to
sacrifice his life for his men; had he been conscious he would surely
have ordered his lieutenant to leave him to his fate.
He swung himself into the saddle again and rode towards the village,
but reined in his horse as he reached the top of a small eminence,
whence he had a full moonlit view of Assais. A dark mass of combatants
was heaving to and fro between him and the nearest houses of the
village, whence came a sharp rattle of firearms; the crowd parted, and
a portion of it approached him rapidly. His heart beat high as he
recognized it to be a detachment of Uhlans that had escaped from the
village and was now galloping towards him. There were but a dozen of
them, and as he rode to meet them with a thundering "Halt!" they obeyed
instantly, and an old sergeant, who recognized the lieutenant, gave him
an account of an attack upon the village, which had taken place almost
simultaneously with that upon the castle. The outlying guard must have
been fallen upon unawares and murdered by the villagers, as not one
shot had been heard from them. The Uhlans had been surprised in their
quarters by an overwhelming force of franctireurs,--ten Frenchmen to
one Prussian,--but in the general confusion this little band had
managed to get to horse and cut their way through the enemy. "If the
cursed Frenchman had only known how to handle their chassepots better,"
the old man added, "not an Uhlan would have escaped." He did not fear
pursuit, "for the bumpkins had no idea of managing an Uhlan horse."
The sergeant's tale convinced Kurt of the tragic fate of the
squadron,--probably for the most part surprised in their beds, murdered
or taken prisoner; all thought of rescuing them was vain. And yet the
young officer was sorely tempted to make one dash into Assais at the
head of the fugitives to rescue any of their comrades who might be
prisoners there. It cost him a hard struggle to decide to leave Assais
without one blow struck at the foe; but he knew that duty called him to
Nontron. He ordered three men to ride on before as quickly as their
horses could carry them to announce the fate of the squadron, and with
the rest he rode back to where the captain was lying, that he also
might be safely transported thither.