NEAR THE ALTAR
"_Morbleu_! Here's a madman!" Ere the Black Seigneur could unsheathe
his sword, that of the Marquis had pierced slightly his shoulder. "Put
up your blade, my Lord!" As quickly springing back and drawing his
own, he held himself in an attitude of defense. "In this matter are
we, or should we be--of a mind!"
"We!" My lord's weapon played in fierce curves and flashes; he laughed
derisively.
"I am here to serve her ladyship--if I can!"
"You!" A rapid _coup de tierce_ was the Marquis' reply. "You! Whose
outlaws carried her off before! You are pleased to jest, Monsieur
Bandit!"
"No jest, my Lord!" coolly. "Moreover, it is you who serve her
ladyship ill at such a moment in--"
"_Mon dieu_! You instruct!"
"I have no wish for this combat, Monsieur le Marquis!" As he spoke,
the Black Seigneur retreated slowly toward the door. "But if you press
too close--"
"_Ma foi_! You talk very brave, but I notice your legs take you
backward. However, it will not serve; you shall not escape."
"No?" His back now against the door, the Black Seigneur defended
himself with his right hand, the while his left felt behind for a bolt
which it found; shot into place. "Then let us remove temptation by
locking the door!"
"What! You did not, then, intend--"
A sudden fierce pounding from without on the door, interrupted.
"It was necessary to keep _them_ out--but it will be only for the
moment. So put up your blade!" peremptorily. "There is no time to
lose."
"You are right!" The Marquis' face expressed scorn and unreasoning
anger; his sword leaped to an accelerated tempo. "There is no time to
lose. I shall honor you! The Marquis de Beauvillers will stoop to
cheat the _fourches patibulaires_!" And my lord lunged, a dangerous
and clever thrust that was met; answered. From the Marquis' hand the
blade flew; struck the pavement; at the same time, a rending and
tearing of wood came from the door.
The Black Seigneur leaped forward; but the stroke his adversary, now
disarmed, expected, fell not on him; directed toward a lamp overhead,
sole source of illumination of the corridor, the weapon struck hard.
Shattered by the blow, the ornamental contrivance crashed to the floor;
the place was plunged in darkness.
"Save yourself, my Lord!" said a calm voice, and my lady, standing now
as it were, in the center of a vortex of wildly rushing figures, felt
her waist suddenly clasped; herself swept on! Once or twice she
struggled; resisted, hardly knowing what she did; but the sound of a
low, determined voice, not unfamiliar to her, and the consciousness of
a physical force--or was it all physical?--that seemed to beat down her
will, left no choice but to obey.
Darkness gave way to waves of light; reflections of flame surrounded
them; black trails of smoke coiled around. The girl's strength went;
her breath came faster. A thick cloud choked her; she wished only to
stop, when arms closed about her.
Upward! Still upward! By winding stairs, through passages and
doorways, vaguely she felt herself borne, until a cold breath of air,
blowing suddenly in her face, revived her; awoke her to a confused
realization of the place they had at last reached--the upper platform
at the head of the long, open stairway of granite. And with that
consciousness, she again sought to free herself; but, for an instant
the arms held her tighter, while a dark face bent close, scanning her
features, then abruptly he released her.
"Your Ladyship is uninjured?"
"Yes: yes!"
"One moment!" Turning, he left her, and walking to the verge of that
open space, searched quickly the waste of darkness below, far out to
sea. The girl's glance followed him; wavered; her first apprehension
awoke anew. Her father! Where was he? She clasped her hands
despairingly as she gazed down the Mount; then around her. Suddenly, a
bright patch of light--open doorway to the church--caught her eye and
she started. At the picture, framed by the masonry, which the glow
revealed, a low exclamation fell from her lips, and crossing the
platform, and descending a few steps, she ran to the entrance of the
sacred edifice.
"Eh, your Excellency; has your Excellency any orders?" sounded a voice.
There, before an altar, in the dim flicker of candles and the
variegated gleaming from the ancient stained-glass windows, she saw at
last him she sought; in one of the chapels, near the white marble
monument to her mother, was his Excellency; but, not alone! Before him
stood, or half crouched, the man Sanchez, who now was speaking.
"Shall I ring for your Excellency's servants and have the noise
stopped?" Grotesquely he bowed, the while watching like an animal
studying its prey. "Beppo! Where are you--fat rascal? Consign these
swine to the gibbets! What! You can't obey because your ears have
been cut off and your throat slit? That's too bad!" Fiercely the man
laughed; then waved his arm toward the window, as if calling the
Governor's attention to the sounds of demolition; the abrupt breaking
of glass! "Patter! Patter! Merry little bullets, presents from the
people, your Excellency! _Metayage_, your Highness!"
Still the other said no word; a figure, so motionless and white, it
seemed but a wraith pausing at the side of its own "narrow house." A
louder clamor without; a more vivid brightness of the red, yellow and
purple hues, like a sudden wealth of strange flowers strewn on the
marble floor, and again Sanchez laughed.
"Too bad! But 'tis I who must pay first! Who owe so much! Has your
Excellency his strong box with him? Ah, he leans on it! Such a fine
one, all of marble! Not easily broken into--or out of! Eh, your
Excellency?" Swinging back something bright. "Full payment, this
time! Not coppers, or round bits of lead, but steel, beautiful steel!"
Held to the spot by the abrupt terror and fascination of the scene, the
Governor's daughter had made no sound, fearful of hastening the
inevitable; but at the moment the man, with a last taunting word,
launched forward, a cry, half articulate, burst from her lips. It was
drowned by another voice, loud and commanding, which rang out from the
entrance to the church.
"Sanchez!"
Perhaps the call disconcerted him; robbed the old servant's eye of its
certitude; his arm of its sureness, for the blow aimed at his
Excellency the latter was enabled to evade. At the same time, as with
singular agility he moved aside to save himself, the hand the Governor
had been holding to his breast, shot out like an adder. It struck
viciously; stung deep--full in the side of his tormentor.
"That for your _metayage_!"
But a momentary expression of satisfaction was, however, permitted his
Excellency; the petty tragedy became overshadowed by the greater!
"The Bastille! Our Bastille!"
And again a shower of bullets, directed in hatred, fell upon the
church, because its windows were priceless; shone with saints of
inestimable value! In the chapel, an _aumbry_ and a _piscina_ were
struck; around the Governor, glass began to clatter and break into bits
on the pavement, when suddenly he wavered; his hand sought his heart,
then felt for and clung to the monument, as if abruptly seeking support.
"Why did you do it, Seigneur?" As my lady, exclaiming wildly, ran to
her father, Sanchez, from where he lay, looked up to his master.
"Call out, I mean? Not that it matters much now!" His implacable
glance, swerving to the Governor, lighted with satisfaction. "The
people have paid. And 'twas I--showed them the way!"
"It was you, then--who broke faith in the negotiations for the exchange
of prisoners?"
A smile came to the face of the old servant. "I had to," he said
simply. "I alone am to blame. No one knew; except, perhaps, the poet,
who may have surmised! It was treachery for treachery!" with sudden
fierceness. "You could not have done it, nor your father, nor any of
the seigneurs before him!" The young man seemed scarcely to hear; his
glance had again sought my lady. "But I am only a servant---and in
dealing with a viper I used its own tricks! Did you think I had
forgotten those stripes? Or the blow he gave your father--in the
back?" A moment Sanchez's hand fumbled at his coat; drew out a bag of
oilskin. "Here is something that belonged to your father. I took it
from his breast the day he died, thinking some time--I can't tell
what--only it contains a letter from the former lady of the Mount!
When my master got it, he told me to pack a few belongings--that we
were going--never to return!"
Sanchez's voice broke off; again he strove to speak; could not; put out
his hand. Mechanically the Black Seigneur's closed on that of the old
servant; even as it did so, the latter's fingers clutched suddenly;
ceased to move. In the church now all was silent, but without arose
discordant sounds, cries, harsh and vengeful, for the Governor!
Starting, the Black Seigneur gazed about, toward him they were
clamoring for, now lying still, at the base of the monument. Then
releasing the fingers, that seemed yet to hold him, the young man
sprang forward, as my lady threw herself wildly, protectingly, over her
father. At that touch, the Governor's eyes opened; met hers; the Black
Seigneur's!
Nearer the door, now rang the shouts. His Excellency seemed to listen;
to realize what they meant; to him--his daughter--
"The Governor! The Governor!"
"_Trembles tyrans_! _Trembles_!"
An ironical flash lit up, for an instant, the dying eyes. He, soon,
would be beyond reach of these dogs--_canaille_! But she? His gaze
again rested on the Black Seigneur; in that tense, fleeting second,
seemed reading his very soul!
"_Et la belle comtesse, sa fille_!" cried the menacing voices.
A tremor crossed the Governor's face; his pale lips moved. "Forget!
Save her!" An instant his eyes lingered persistently on the young man;
then passed to his daughter; as they did so, slowly the light, more
human and appealing than any that had ever shone there before, went out
of them. My lady's fair head drooped until it lay on her father's
breast; unconscious, she seemed yet to shield him with figure inert.
But only for a moment!
"_Et la belle comtesse_!"
Stooping, the Black Seigneur snatched the slender form to his breast;
ran back to the altar. There, looking around him, as one who made
himself familiar with the place, his glance apparently found what it
sought--a small stairway, entrance to the crypt. At the same time he
started to descend, the people swept into the church.