THE RAT-HOLE AND THE WATER-JUG
I had not been back in the little room a minute, when it occurred to me
to reach through the window and displace the obstruction. I was in time
to see the Countess escorted back across the court-yard by her husband.
This could mean only that she was again to occupy her prison in the
tower. I was glad at least to know where she was, that I might imagine
her in her surroundings, of which I had obtained so brief a glimpse.
Presently my door opened slightly, that my breakfast might be passed in
on a trencher; and again an hour later, that the trencher might be taken
out. Soon after that, the door was thrown wide, and a man of some
authority, whom I had already taken to be the seneschal of the chateau,
courteously requested me to step forth. When I did so, he told me my
lodging was ready and bade me follow. At my elbows were two powerful
armed servitors of this strange half-military household, to escort me.
I had a moment's hope that I might be taken to some chamber in the great
tower; I should thus be nearer the Countess. But such was not the
Count's will. I was conducted to the hall staircase, and up two flights,
thence along the corridor past my former sleeping chamber, and finally
by a small stairway to a sort of loft at that very corner of the chateau
against which the great tower was built.
It was a small chamber with one window and an unceiled roof that sloped
very low at the sides. I suppose it had been used as a store-room for
rubbish. Two worm-eaten chests were its only furniture. On one of these
were a basin, a jug of water, and a towel. On the other were a blanket,
a sheet, and a pillow. Here then were my bed and wash-stand. There was
still space left on the first chest to serve me as dining-table.
Before I could find anything to say upon these meagre accommodations for
a gentleman's last lodging in this world, the seneschal bade me
good-day, the door was closed and locked, and I was left to my
reflections. The room not having been designed as a prison, there was no
grilled opening in the door, and I was not exposed to the guard's view.
The Count might have kept me in my former chamber, thought I, the time
being so short. Perhaps he feared my making a rope of bed clothes and
dropping to the terrace. As for the little room off the hall, it had no
real lock, and the guards might become sleepy at night. But why did he
make this respite of two days? Was it to give himself time for devising
some peculiarly humiliating and atrocious form of death? Or was it mere
ironical pretence of mercy in his justice, and might I be surprised with
the fatal summons as soon as he was in the humour for it? To this day, I
do not clearly know,--or whether he had other matters for his immediate
care; or indeed whether, at the instant of pronouncing my sentence in
order to discover the Countess's feelings, he actually intended carrying
it out.
In any case, now that her heart had betrayed itself, I had little hope
of mercy. What came nearest to daunting me was the thought that, if I
died, my people might never know for certain what had been my fate, for
the Count would probably keep my death a secret, his own dependents
being silenced by interest and fear. Yet I felt I had no right to
complain of Fate. I had come from home to see danger, and here it was,
though my present adventure was something different from cutting off the
moustaches of Brignan de Brignan. And still my emotions were sweetened
by the sense of what the Countess had disclosed, fatal though that
disclosure might be to her also.
Such were the materials of my thoughts for the first hour or so, while I
sat on the chest that was to be my bed. But suddenly there came a
sharper consciousness of what death meant, and how closely it threatened
me. I sprang up, to bestir myself in seeking if there might be some
means of escape. The situation had changed since I had willingly
lingered at the chateau in order to be near the Countess. The reluctance
to betake myself from the place where she was, had not diminished; but I
had awakened to the knowledge that my only hope of ever seeing her again
lay in present flight, if that were possible. I could serve her better
living than dead, better free than a prisoner.
I went to the window, which was wide enough for me to put my head out.
My room was at the top of the building, and only the great tower, partly
visible at my right, rose higher toward the sky. Below me was a narrow
paved space between the house and the outer wall: it ran from the base
of the tower at my right, to the garden, far at the left. Beyond the
wall was the moat: beyond that, the country toward Montoire. If I could
let myself down to the earth by any means, I should still be on the
wrong side of the wall. But I might find the postern key, buried under
the rose bush near the postern itself.
I looked around the room, but there was nothing that would serve as a
means of descent, except the bedding on the larger chest. This I
examined: it was the scantiest, being merely a strip of blanket and a
strip of sheet, together just sufficient to cover the top of the chest.
With the pillow cover and towel, they would not reach half-way to the
ground.
Perhaps the chests might contain old clothes, or other materials that
would serve to eke out. I tried the lids, but both were strongly locked.
The larger chest looked very ancient and rotten: its hinges might be
loose. I pulled one end of it out from against the wall, to examine the
back. The hinges were immovable. Despondent, I ran my hand further down
the back at random, and, to my surprise, felt a small irregular hole,
through which I could thrust two fingers. It was evidently a rat hole,
for I saw now that when close to the wall, it must have corresponded to
a chink between the stones thereof.
My fingers inside the chest came in contact with nothing but rat-bitten
papers, to my sad disappointment. But, having gone so far, I was moved
to continue until I had patiently twisted a few documents out through
the hole. I straightened and glanced at them. The edges were fretted by
the rats. One writing was an account of moneys expended for various
wines; another was a list of remedies for the diseases of horses; but
the third, when I caught its meaning and saw the name signed at the end,
made my heart jump. It was the last page of a letter, and ran thus:
"One thing is certain, by our careful exclusion of fools and
weaklings, our plot is less liable to premature discovery than any
of those which have hitherto been attempted, and, as you say, if we
fail we have but to lock ourselves up in our chateaux till all
blows over, the K. being so busy at present with the Dutch. In that
event, my dear Count, the Chateau de Lavardin is a residence that
some of the rest of us will envy you. Your servant ever,
"COLLOT D'ARNIOL."
The name was that of the chief mover of the late conspiracy, who had
paid the penalty of his treason without betraying his accomplices. If
this was indeed his signature, with which the authorities were certainly
acquainted, the scrap of paper, were I free to carry it to Paris, would
put the life of the Count de Lavardin in my hands.
To be possessed of such a weapon--such a means of rescuing the Countess
from her fearful situation--and yet lack freedom wherein to use it, was
too vexing for endurance. I resolved, rather than wait inactively for
death with that weapon useless, to employ the most reckless means of
escape. Meanwhile I pocketed the fragment of letter, and thrust the
other papers back into the chest, which I then pushed to its former
place.
After thinking awhile, I poured the water from the heavy earthen jug
into the basin. I then sat down on the large chest, leaning forward,
elbows upon knees, my head upon my hands, the empty jug beside me as if
I had lazily left it there after drinking from it. In this attitude I
waited through a great part of the afternoon, until I began to wonder if
the Count was not going to send me any more food that day.
At last, when the sun was low, I heard my lock turned, the door opened
into the room, and one of my new guards entered with a trencher of bread
and cold meat. With the corner of my eye, I saw that nobody was
immediately outside my door; so I assumed that my other guard, if there
were still two, was stationed at the foot of the short flight of stairs
leading to my room. The man with the food, having cast a look at me as I
sat in my listless attitude, passed me in order to put the trencher on
the other chest, which was further from the door.
The instant his back was toward me, I silently grasped the earthen jug,
sprang after him, and brought the jug down upon the back of his head
with all my strength while he was leaning forward to place the trencher.
He staggered forward. I gave him a second blow, and he sprawled upon the
chest, which stopped his fall.
I ran to the open door, pushed it almost shut, and waited behind it, the
jug raised in both hands. My blows and the guard's fall had not been
without noise.
"Hola! what's that?" cried somebody outside and a little below. I gave
no answer, and presently I heard steps rapidly mounting to my door. Then
the door was lightly pushed, but I stopped it; whereupon the head of my
other guard was thrust in through the narrow opening. Down came my jug,
and the man dropped to his hands and knees, in the very act of drawing
his weapons. I struck him again, laying him prostrate. Then I dragged
him into the room, and tried to wrest his dagger from his grasp. Finding
this difficult, I ran back to the first guard, took his dagger from its
sheath as he was beginning to come to, wielded my jug once more to delay
his awakening, and, stepping over the second man's body, passed out of
the room. The man with the trencher had left the key in the lock. I
closed the door and turned the key, which I put in my pocket. I then
hastened down the stairs, fled along the deserted passage, descended the
main stairway to the story below, traversed without a moment's pause the
rooms leading to the picture gallery, crossed that and found the door at
the end unlocked, ran down the stairs of the Countess's former
apartments, unlocked the door to the garden, and sped along the walk
toward the postern. In all this, I had not seen a soul: I was carried
forward by a bracing resolve to accomplish my escape or die in
attempting it, as well as by an inspiriting faith in the saying of the
Latin poet that fortune favours the bold, and by a feeling that for me
everything depended on one swift, uninterrupted flight.
I gained the postern; fell on my knees by the nearest rose bush, and,
choosing a spot where the soil swelled a little, dug rapidly with the
dagger, throwing the earth aside with my hand. In my impatience, much
time seemed to go: I feared that here at last I was stayed: great drops
fell from my brow upon my busy hands: I trembled and could have wept for
vexation. But suddenly my dagger struck something hard, and in a moment
I grasped the key. It opened the lock. I stood upon the ledge outside,
and re-locked the door; then dashed across the plank over the moat, and
made for the forest.
I had no time to spare. My guards might be already returned to
consciousness and doing their best to alarm the house from within their
prison. Bloodhounds might soon be on my track. I ran along the edge of
the forest, therefore, which covered my movements till I was past the
village of St. Outrille, close to Montoire. I then altered my pace to a
walk, lest a running figure in the fields might attract the notice of
the Count's watchman on the tower; and, going in the lurching manner of
a rustic, came to a road by which I crossed the river and gained the
town. I entered the inn, sought the host, and called for my bill,
baggage, and horse.
The innkeeper did not recognize me at first, and, when he did, showed
great wonder and curiosity at my absence. He was inclined to be
friendly, though, and, when he perceived I was in haste, did not delay
my departure with inquisitive talk. I saw that my horse had been
properly cared for in my absence, and was glad to be on its back again,
the more because I should thus leave no further scent for bloodhounds to
follow.
I rode out of the archway and turned my horse toward the road for Les
Roches and Paris. As I crossed the square, I could not help glancing
over my right shoulder toward the Lavardin road. In doing so, I happened
to see a young man coming out of the church, whose face I knew. I
thought a moment, then reined my horse around to intercept him, and, as
he was about to pass, said in a low voice:
"Good evening, Hugues."
He stopped in surprise, recalling my features but not my identity. I
leaned over my horse's neck, and spoke in an undertone:
"You will remember I met you on your way back from Sablé, whither you
had carried a certain lady's message. I have since heard of you from
that lady. She is in a most unhappy plight, and so is her maid
Mathilde."
The young miller turned pale at this.
"I have just escaped from the chateau," I continued, "where the Count
meant to kill me. I am going as fast as possible to Paris, where I can
use means to render him powerless. But that will take time, and
meanwhile the worst may befall the Countess--and no doubt her faithful
Mathilde also. They are imprisoned in the tower. I thank God I have met
you, for now there is one friend here to whose solicitude I may leave
that unfortunate lady and her devoted maid while I am away."
"Monsieur," said he, with deep feeling, "I know no reason why you should
play a trick on me, and you don't look as if you were doing so. I will
trust you, therefore. But can you not come to my house, where we can
talk fully?"
"Where is your house?"
"About a quarter of a league down that road." He pointed toward the road
that ran northward from the square, as my road ran northeastward. "When
you are ready to go on, you can get the Paris road by a lane, without
coming back to the town."
There were good reasons against my losing any time before starting for
Paris. But it was well, on the other hand, for Hugues to know exactly
how matters stood at the chateau. I put my reasons hastily to him, and
he said he could promise me a safe hiding-place at his mill. And I could
travel the faster in the end for a rest now, which I looked as if I
needed,--in truth, I had slept little and badly in the hall the previous
night, and the day's business had told upon me. So, perhaps most because
it was pleasant to be with a trusty companion who shared my cause of
anxiety, I agreed to go to his house for supper, and to set out after
night-fall.
"Good!" said Hugues. "Then you had best ride ahead, Monsieur, so we are
not seen together. You can leave me now as if you had been merely asking
your way. If you ride slowly when you are out of the town, I shall catch
up."
I did as he suggested, and he soon overtook me on the road. His house
proved to be a cottage of good size built against a mill, with a small
barn at one side of the yard and a stable at the other. When I had
dismounted at his door, we unsaddled and unbridled my horse, so that it
might pass for a new horse of his own if pursuers looked into his
stable. He then called his boy and his woman-servant, and told them what
to say if anybody came inquiring. We carried my saddle, bridle, and
portmanteau through the cottage to the mill, and thence to a small
cellar which was reached by means of a well-concealed trap-door in the
mill-floor. This cellar should be my refuge in case the Count's men came
there seeking me.
"I made this hiding-place," said Hugues, moving his candle about to show
how well floored and walled it was, "because one could never say when
Mathilde, living in that fearful chateau, might want a place to fly to.
She would not leave her mistress, you know, though the Countess's other
women went gladly enough when the Count sent them off. Nobody knows
there is anything between Mathilde and me, Monsieur,--except the
Countess. It is safer so. We have been waiting for the Count to die, so
that all might be well with the Countess, for Mathilde could marry me
then with easy mind."
"I hope that God will send that time soon," said I.
"But meanwhile, this present danger?" said Hugues.
We returned to the living-room of the cottage, and talked of the matter
while we had supper. I told Hugues everything, misrepresenting only so
far as to make it appear that the Count's jealousy was still entirely
unfounded, and that he had mistaken the Countess's feelings at our
confrontation. Whatever Hugues may have thought upon this last point, he
made no comment thereon; but he showed the liveliest sense of the
increased danger in which the Countess stood. He feared that my escape
would make her position still worse, and that her hours might be already
numbered. He considered there was not time for me to go to Paris and
return: the Countess's rescue ought to be attempted promptly, or the
attempt would be too late.
In all this, he but echoed the feeling that had come back to me with
double force while I told him the situation. But there was the
Countess's determination not to flee. Hugues said that as this
determination must be overcome for the Countess's own sake, any pressure
that could be brought to bear upon her feelings would be justifiable.
Let it be urged upon her that if she persisted in waiting for death,
Mathilde's life also would doubtless be sacrificed; let every argument,
every persuasion be employed; let me beseech, let me reproach, let me
even use imperative means if need be. Suddenly, as he talked, I saw a
way by which I thought she might be moved. It was one chance, but enough
to commit me to the effort.
The question now was, how to communicate with the Countess, and to
accomplish the rescue. This Hugues and I settled ere we went to bed. I
slept that night in the mill, by the trap-door. Hugues lay awake,
listening for any alarm. None came, and in the morning we agreed that
either the Count had elected not to seek me at all, or had traced me to
the inn, and, learning I had taken horse, supposed I was far out of the
neighbourhood. I stayed indoors all that day, while Hugues was absent in
furtherance of our project, the woman and boy being under strict orders
as to their conduct in the event of inquiries. In the evening Hugues
returned with various acquisitions, among them being a sword for me, and
a long rope ladder, both obtained at Troo.
We awaited the fall of night, then set out. I upon my horse, Hugues
riding one of his and leading the other. We went by obscure lanes,
crossed the river, gained the forest, and lingered in its shades till
the church clock of Montoire struck eleven. We then proceeded through
the forest, near the edge, till we were behind the Chateau de Lavardin.
Besides the rope-ladder, we had with us a cross-bow that Hugues owned, a
long slender cord, and a paper on which I had written some brief
instructions during the afternoon.