L'Estang's Courier
"The stranger rides a fine beast," remarked Jacques, as we entered the
stables; "it has stood the long journey well. The grooming and feed of
oats have made it as fresh as ever."
"Did he tell you his name?" I asked.
"No; he is a surly rascal. If he were to be in our company long, I
should have to teach him good manners. Had I not better waken him? We
shall not reach Poictiers to-night."
"Yes; tell him we are ready to start. I have no wish to pass the night
at some village inn."
L'Estang's messenger was indeed a surly fellow. He came into the
courtyard rubbing his eyes and grumbling at being disturbed. His patron
might not reach the town before the morning, he said, and it would be
better for us to make a two days' journey. His horse was tired, and
likely to break down on the way.
"Little fear of that!" declared Jacques brusquely; "the beast has
strength for a hundred miles yet. 'Tis as fine a creature as I have
seen."
The courier looked at him with a gratified smile. "Yes," he said,
brightening up, "'tis as good an animal as monsieur has in his stables."
He replaced the saddle and tightened the girths, but spent so much time
over the business that Jacques was hard put to it to restrain his
impatience. However, he was ready at last, and we all three rode down
the slope, and along the road toward the wood.
Jacques and the courier rode together a little in the rear, and, turning
round, I remarked pleasantly, "By the way, my good fellow, I suppose you
have a name of your own?"
"I can't say if it's mine or not," he replied sulkily, "but men call me
Casimir."
"Is this the place where you were attacked?" I asked, as we came to the
wood.
The fellow returned no answer, but, suddenly seizing his pistol and
spurring his horse cruelly, he dashed to the front and disappeared. A
minute or two later, we heard a loud report, and Jacques and I gazed at
each other in amazement.
"Your friend sent you a pretty guide, monsieur," said Jacques; "the
fellow must be crazy!"
"He fancied, perhaps, that he perceived one of his assailants."
"I saw nothing, and heard nothing; but he is coming back. Well, my
friend, did you get a successful shot?"
"No," replied Casimir, who seemed angry at his own clumsiness, "I
missed. But there are more days than one in a week, and my turn will
come yet! Did you get a good view of the fellow, monsieur?"
I admitted that I had neither seen nor heard any one, at which he cried
scornfully: "'Tis plain I shall have to be eyes and ears for the party.
He was half hidden by yonder tree, but I saw the barrel of his arquebus.
Had I known I was to be dragged into your quarrels, I would have stayed
in Paris!"
"Tell me where to find your patron, and you can return at once," I said
sternly; "I want no unwilling service!" but, muttering something under
his breath he once more took his place beside Jacques.
"'Tis a rough dog, L'Estang has sent me," I thought, "but one that will
bite if need be. I wonder if the fellow he fired at was one of Cordel's
ruffians? Strange that neither Jacques nor I saw him."
The incident had rendered us more cautious, and we proceeded through the
wood carefully, keeping a sharp lookout and listening intently; but the
mysterious man had vanished so completely that I began to wonder if
Casimir had not been a victim of his imagination.
From the wood we turned into the highroad, and after travelling steadily
for nearly three hours halted at a wayside inn. For myself I wished to
push on, and Jacques was equally impatient, but our guide complained
that his horse was tired and needed a rest.
"'Twould be folly to risk foundering a valuable animal for the sake of
getting to a place before one is wanted there," said he, laughing as if
he had made some humorous remark. But laughter was not Casimir's strong
point, and he made a sorry business of it.
However, since we were entirely in his hands, he had his way, and much
precious time was wasted.
"It will take us three days at this rate to reach Poictiers," grumbled
Jacques, as we resumed the journey.
"We shall be there as soon as we are expected," returned Casimir, who
seemed to have a fresh fit of sullenness, which increased rather than
lessened as we proceeded.
About five miles from our stopping-place, two horsemen overtook us. They
were cantering briskly along, but drew rein to bid us good-day.
"Are you for Poictiers?" asked one of them pleasantly, but before I had
time to reply our guide broke in roughly:
"We are going where we please. The highroad is free to all, I suppose!"
"Certainly, friend, and I doubt if many travellers would care to share
it with you. A civil question is worth a civil answer."
"Our business is our own," muttered Casimir, "and we are able to look
after it."
The horseman who had first spoken was on the point of making an angry
reply, but his companion exclaimed with a laugh, "Let the boor alone to
do his business; by the look of his face 'twill bring him pretty close
to the hangman's rope!" and, taking no further notice of us, they
galloped on.
"By my faith, Casimir," I exclaimed hotly, "your Parisian manners are
not of the pleasantest. I could wish that your patron had employed a
less boorish messenger."
"See here, monsieur," said he, "there is no need for us to quarrel, but
I don't intend losing my life on your account, and it's plain there is
some one who bears you no goodwill. How do I know who these travellers
are? They may belong to the same gang that shot at me in the wood!"
"Well," I returned rather scornfully, "since you are so fearful of being
in my company we had better push on faster. The sooner you bring me to
your patron the sooner you can take yourself off."
The rebuke apparently produced some effect, and for a time we proceeded
at a fairly rapid pace; but the best part of the day was over, and the
late afternoon was already closing in. To reach Poictiers before
nightfall was out of the question, and I began to resign myself to
sleeping at some wayside inn.
"At any rate," I thought, "there can be little danger. What with
Casimir's fears and Jacques' vigilance I shall receive plenty of
warning."
I was never an advocate of overboldness, but our guide erred in the
other extreme. He became more and more nervous and fidgety, stopping a
dozen times to listen, fancying he heard the beat of horses' hoofs in
our rear, and declaring we were being followed. And the more his
nervousness increased, the more Jacques and I laughed at his fears.
It was fast getting dark when we entered a narrow road, where there was
scarcely room for Jacques and Casimir to ride abreast. To the right was
a wall of rock, to the left a steep stony slope, on which one might
easily break a limb if not one's neck. I rode a little in advance;
Jacques on the edge of the slope, and Casimir next to the wall. It was
so dark that we could see hardly more than a few yards ahead, and I
warned Jacques to be careful.
Suddenly our guide, crying, "Stop a minute, monsieur, my horse has a
stone in its foot!" jumped to the ground.
What the reason was I had no suspicion at the time, though it was easy
enough to guess afterwards; but the animal began plunging and rearing so
violently that its owner had hard work to hold it. Jacques had no time
to escape the danger, and, before I realized what had happened, his
frightened horse, edging away from the kicking creature at its side,
toppled over the slope.
When in after days I related the story to Felix, he laughed at my
simplicity, saying I ought to have guessed the secret from the
beginning; but, as a matter of fact, even when my servant disappeared I
had no thought of treachery. I hugged the wall closely, and looked
round.
"Get down, monsieur," cried Casimir loudly; "get down and help me. The
beast has gone crazy."
Now I could dismount only in front of the plunging brute, and having no
desire to be kicked to death, and the danger being pressing, I seized my
pistol and shot the animal in the forehead. Being a keen lover of horses
I hated to do it, but there was no alternative.
The effect of the shot produced a far more serious result than I
intended. The poor beast, plunging madly, must have kicked Casimir in
its last desperate struggle, for a scream of agony rang out wildly on
the night air, and I could just distinguish the man's body lying
motionless.
This was not all. The report from my pistol was quickly followed by two
others, and a couple of bullets whizzed past my head. The next instant I
heard the clatter of hoofs, and two horsemen came tearing along the road
toward me. Bewildered by these sudden and startling events, I had yet
sufficient presence of mind to realize that I had been trapped, and that
my only chance of escape lay in flight.
Turning my animal's head, I prepared to gallop off, when I found my way
barred by another horseman, who had come up during the struggle. The
sudden movement saved my life; he was in the very act of firing when I
struck at him fiercely, and he dropped across his saddle with a cry of
pain.
The road was now open, and, keeping as far from the slope as possible, I
stretched my horse to his utmost speed. It was a mad gallop, with the
risk of a sudden and violent death in every foot of the road. My
pursuers were not far behind, but I dared not look round. My limbs
shook, the sweat poured in streams down my face; I could not think, I
could only sit firm and leave my fate in the hands of Providence.
[Illustration: "I stretched my horse to his utmost speed."]
My poor horse bounded along like a crazy thing, but he kept his footing,
though every moment I expected him to tumble headlong. The men behind
must have ridden more warily, for the sound of hoofs, though still
audible, became more faint and indistinct.
I could have cried aloud in joyful triumph as my gallant horse flew out
from the narrow pass on to the broad road. My pursuers were now far in
the rear, and I had a moment to think. Whoever they were, they knew I
had come from Le Blanc, and would expect me to return there. My best
plan was to let them pass, and then go back in search of Jacques. Even
to save my own life I must not desert my trusty servant.
In a few seconds I had formed my plan, and acted upon it. Leaving the
highroad, I struck into the open country, and dismounting, concealed my
horse in a hollow. Several minutes passed before the two horsemen came
galloping by, evidently bent on following me to Le Blanc.
As soon as they had gone out of hearing, I mounted again and returned
quickly but cautiously to the spot where the startling struggle had
taken place. Casimir still lay where he had fallen, by the side of his
horse. The second animal had disappeared, but its rider was huddled
against the wall groaning, and talking as if in delirium.
"It was not my fault, monsieur," he was saying, "Casimir bungled it; he
struck too soon."
His head had evidently been dashed with great violence against the wall
and I could do little for him. Besides, there was my servant to be
considered. Tying my horse securely, I advanced to the edge of the
slope, and cried aloud, "Jacques! Jacques!"
There was no answer, and my heart sank as I thought how likely it was
that the poor fellow lay there dead, killed by the terrible fall. I
found the spot where his horse had slipped, and groped my way down,
still calling his name. And at last I heard a feeble "I am here,
monsieur!"
"Where?" I cried, "where?" and, guided by the sound of his voice, I made
my way toward him.
He was half lying, half sitting at the foot of a chestnut tree, and at
my approach he struggled to his feet.
"I am coming round, monsieur," he said in a whisper, "I must have been
stunned. I do not know what happened; I think I must have been thrown
against a tree."
"Sit down," I commanded, "and rest while I find the horse and get your
pistols; they may be useful."
The poor beast had rolled to the bottom of the slope, and was, of
course, quite dead; so I removed the pistols and returned to Jacques
hastily.
"We were trapped, monsieur," he whispered.
"Yes," I agreed, "but we can talk of that later. The question now is
whether you can get to the top of the slope. Lean on me and take your
time. There is not much danger. Casimir and a second man are dead, two
others are galloping in the direction of Le Blanc. Now, are you ready?"
"I shall soon be all right. There is no bone broken; it is my head that
pains!"
His steps at first were very tottery, and he had need of support, but
once we reached level ground he walked steadily. We paused at Casimir's
body, and Jacques said thoughtfully, "He was a cunning rogue; he
deceived me to the very end. Poor fellow, I am sorry to see him like
this, but he took his risks. He thought to kill me and he is dead
himself."
I went over to the second of our assailants. He had fallen forward on
his face; his heart had ceased beating; he lay quite motionless. He was
beyond human aid, and we turned away quietly. The dead must ever give
place to the claims of the living.
Jacques, who was fast recovering from the blow on his head, now seemed
capable of discussing the situation with me. What was best to be done
was the question in my mind. We had but the one horse, which could not
carry both of us, and Jacques was too weak to walk far. It was plain
that if we returned to Le Blanc he must ride, in spite of his objection.
But was it safe to return? At any moment our two assailants might
abandon the pursuit, and we were not equal to continuing the fight. They
were doubtless strong, sturdy ruffians, well armed, and experienced in
the use of their weapons. I should be on foot, and unable to count on
Jacques for much assistance.
"I think," I said, "we had better conceal ourselves until the morning;
they will hardly dare to attack us in broad daylight. Besides, we can
hire a horse at one of the inns."
"Why not stay here?" asked my companion. "They may come back to see if
their comrades are living; then we can pounce on them."
Poor old Jacques! He was as brave as a lion, and gave no thought to his
weakness.
After a while I convinced him that my plan was the best, so we
unfastened the horse, and, leaving the two bodies, walked slowly along
the narrow road, and so to the hollow where I had already lain.
Having secured the horse so that he would not stray, I compelled my
servant, much against his wish, to lie down in a sheltered nook, and
covered him with my cloak, for the night was bitterly cold.
"A good sleep will clear your brain," I remarked, "and you will need all
your wits in the morning."
Walking briskly to and fro in order to keep myself warm, I listened
intently for the sound of hoofs. Perhaps three hours had passed--the
time seemed an age--when clambering softly from the gully and advancing
to the roadside I stretched myself flat on the grass. Two horsemen were
approaching slowly, and their animals were jaded and leg-weary.
They came close to me at a walking pace; I could dimly distinguish their
figures as they leaned forward; they were level with me, one so close
that I could have shot him dead with my eyes shut; but it was horrible
to think of slaying a fellow creature in cold blood, and I let them
pass. Slowly and painfully they proceeded until at length they reached
the narrow road.
Returning to the hollow I wakened Jacques, and, telling him of the two
ruffians' return, advised that we should proceed.
"Very good, monsieur," he said at once, "I am at your service."