THE SPUR OF LES ESCHELLES.
De Lorgnac was gone. Through the open window overlooking the
courtyard, that let in the warm summer evening, we heard him give an
order to his men in a quick, resolute voice, far different from the
low tones in which he had spoken before, and then he and his troop
rode off at a rapid trot in the direction, as it seemed, of the Porte
St. Honore. I could hardly realize that I was free and that de Lorgnac
had resigned me without a struggle. All that I could think of was that
he was gone, and with a quick gasp of relief I turned to my friend.
"Oh, madame! How can I thank you? What shall I say?"
"Say nothing to me, my child, but rather thank the good God that there
was a little of honour left in that man. And now, before we start, you
must have some refreshment."
"I cannot--indeed, no. I am ready to go at once. I want to put leagues
between me and Paris."
"You must be guided by me now, Denise," and as she spoke a servant
brought in some soup and a flask of wine. Despite my protests I was
forced to swallow something, though I felt that I was choking; yet the
little Frontignac I drank, I not being used to wine, seemed to steady
my shaking limbs and restore my scattered faculties.
As we put on our cloaks and demi-masks preparatory to starting, Madame
de Termes kept saying to herself, "I cannot understand--Blaise de
Lorgnac to lend himself to a thing like this! I would have staked my
life on him. There is something behind this, child," and she put a
hand on each of my shoulders and looked me full in the eyes. "Have you
told me all--have you withheld nothing?"
"Has he not himself admitted what I said, madame? If that is not
enough I will add every word of what I know;" and as we stood there I
detailed what I have already told, forcing myself to go on with the
story once or twice when I felt myself being unnerved, and finishing
with a quick, "And, madame, I was taken by storm. Indeed, I hardly
know even if this is not some frightful dream."
"Would it were so," she said, and added, "Denise, I believe every word
you say; and yet there is something behind de Lorgnac's action. I know
him well. He would never lend himself to be the tool of others. Once,
however, at Perigueux you will be safe with the Vicomte and myself,
and it will be a long arm that would drag you thence--nothing short of
that of the Medicis. But Catherine owes much to de Termes; and now let
us start."
What was my surprise when we reached the courtyard, to hear my maid
Mousette's voice, and I saw her perched on a little nag, already
engaged in a flirtation with one of the men. When I spoke to her she
pressed her horse forward and began hurriedly:
"I was sent here with Madame's things," she said. "I am afraid the
valises are but hastily packed, and much has had to be left behind;
but Madame will excuse me, I know; it was all so quick, and I had so
little time."
"Thank you, Mousette," and I turned to my horse, her address of Madame
ringing strangely in my ears.
We were, including Madame de Termes' servants, who were well armed, a
party of about twelve, small enough to face the danger of the road in
those unsettled days, but no thought of this struck me, and as for
Madame de Termes, she would, I do believe, have braved the journey
alone, so anxious was she to be by the Vicomte's side, for between
herself and the stout old soldier, who held the lieutenancy of
Perigord, there existed the deepest affection.
As we rode down the Bourdonnais, I could not help thinking to myself
how noble a spirit it was that animated my friend. Not for one moment
had she allowed her own trouble to stand in the way of her helping me.
Her husband, whom, as I have said, she dearly loved, was ill, perhaps
dying, and yet in her sympathy and pity for me, she had let no word
drop about him, except the cheery assurance of his protection.
Nevertheless, as we rode on, she ever kept turning towards Lalande,
her equerry, and bade him urge the lagging baggage animals on. Passing
the Grand Chatelet, we crossed the arms of the river by the Pont au
Change, and the Pont St. Michel, and kept steadily down the Rue de la
Harpe towards the Porte St. Martin. We gained this not a moment too
soon, for as the last of the baggage animals passed it, we heard the
officer give the word to lower the drawbridge and close the gates. The
clanking of the chains, and the creaking of the huge doors came to me
with something of relief in them, for it seemed to me that I was safe
from further tyranny from the Hotel de Soissons, at any rate for this
night.
As we passed the huge silhouette of the Hotel de Luxembourg, we heard
the bells of St. Sulpice sounding Compline, and then, from behind us,
the solemn notes rang out from the spires of the city churches.
Yielding to an impulse I could not resist, I turned in my saddle and
looked back, letting my eyes run over the vast, dim outlines of the
city, so softened by the moonlight that it was as if some opaque,
fantastic cloud was resting on the earth. Above curved the profound
blue of the night, with here and there a star struggling to force its
way past the splendour of the moon. All was quiet and still, and the
church bells ringing out were as a message from His creatures to the
Most High. I let my heart go after the voices of the bells as they
travelled heavenward, and had it not been for Mousette's shrill tones,
that cut through the quiet night and recalled me to myself, I might
have let the party go onwards, I do not know how far. As it was, I had
to bustle my little horse to gain the side of Madame de Termes once
more. It was not, of course, our intention to travel all night. That
would have been impossible, for it would have entailed weary horses,
and a long halt the next day; but it was proposed that we should make
for a small chateau belonging to Monsieur de Bouchage, the brother of
the Duc de Joyeuse, which he had placed at Madame de Termes' disposal,
and there rest for the remainder of the night, making a start early
the next morning, and then pressing on daily, as fast as our strength
would allow. Lalande had sent a courier on in advance to announce our
sudden coming. We did not expect to reach de Bouchage's house until
about midnight, and the equerry was fussing up and down the line of
march, urging a packhorse on here, checking a restive animal there,
and ever and again warning the lackeys to keep their arms in
readiness, for the times were such that no man's teeth were safe in
his head, unless he wore a good blade by his side.
We were, in short, on the eve of that tremendous struggle which,
beginning with the Day of the Barricades, went on to the murder of the
Princes of Lorraine on that terrible Christmastide at Blois, and
culminated with the dagger of Clement and the death of the miscreant
whom God in His anger had given to us for a king.
Already the Huguenots were arming again, and it was afloat that the
Palatine had sent twenty thousand men, under Dhona, to emulate the
march of the Duc de Deux Ponts from the Rhine to Guyenne. It was said
that the Montpensier had gone so far as to attempt to seize the person
of the King, swearing that once in her hands, he would never see the
outside of four walls again, and rumours were flitting here and there,
crediting the Bearnnois with the same, if not deeper, resolves.
Things being so, the land was as full of angry murmurs as a nest of
disturbed bees; the result being that the writ of the King was almost
as waste paper, and bands of cut-throat soldiery committed every
excess, now under the white, then under the red scarf, as it suited
their convenience.
It was for this reason that Lalande urged us on, and we were nothing
loath ourselves to hasten, but our pace had to be regulated by that of
the laden animals, and do what we would our progress was slow.
Madame and I rode in the rear of the troop, a couple of armed men
immediately behind us. Lalande was in front, and exercised the
greatest caution whenever we came to a place that was at all likely to
be used for an ambuscade.
Nothing, however, happened, and finally we set down to a jogging
motion, speaking no word, for we were wearied, and with no sound to
break the silence of the night except the shuffling of our horses, the
straining of their harness, and the clink of sword sheath and chain
bit.
Suddenly we were startled by the rapid beat of hoofs, and in a moment,
a white horse and its rider emerged from the moonlit haze to our
right, coming as it were straight upon us. Lalande gave a quick order
to halt, and I saw the barrel of his pistol flashing in his hand; but
the horseman, with a cry of "For the King! Way! Way!" dashed over the
road at full gallop, and sped off like a sprite over the open plain to
our left.
"Did you hear the voice, Denise?" asked Madame.
"Yes."
"It is stranger than ever," she said, and I could make no answer.
There was no doubt about it. It was de Lorgnac; and instead of going
to the Porte St. Honore as I thought when he left us, he must have
crossed by the Meunniers and come out by the St. Germains Gate. He had
evidently, too, separated himself from his men.
"I shall be glad when we reach de Bouchage's house," I said with a
shiver, for the apparition of my husband had sent a chill through me.
"It is not far now," replied Madame; and then we both became silent,
absorbed in our own thoughts. She, no doubt, thinking of the Vicomte,
and I with my mind full of forebodings as to what other evil fate had
in store for me; and with this there came thoughts of de Clermont,
whose presence I seemed absolutely to feel about me. I could not say I
loved him, but it was as if he had a power over me that sapped my
strength, and I felt that I was being dragged towards him. I cannot
explain what it was, but others have told me the same, that when his
clear blue eyes were fixed on them, they seemed to lose themselves,
and that his glance had a power, the force of which no one could put
into words, nor indeed, can I.
It was only by an effort and a prayer that I succeeded in collecting
myself; and it was with no little joy that I saw the grey outlines of
the Chateau de Bouchage, and knew that for the remainder of the night
there was rest.
I will pass over our journey till we reached the Limousin. Going at
our utmost strength, we found we could barely cover more than six
leagues a day; and as day after day passed, and no news of the Vicomte
came, Madame's face grew paler, and she became feverishly impatient
for us to hurry onward; yet never for one moment did she lose the
sweetness of her temper or falter in her kindness towards me. No
mishap of any kind befell us; but at the ford of the Gartempe, there
at last came good news that brought the glad tears to Madame's eyes,
and the colour once more to her cheeks, for here a courier met us,
riding with a red spur, to say that the Vicomte was out of danger, and
striding hour by hour towards recovery. The courier further said, in
answer to our questions, that the messenger whom Madame de Termes had
sent on in advance, to announce her coming, had never arrived, and he
himself was more than surprised at meeting us, believing Madame to be
yet at Paris. No doubt the poor man who had been sent on in advance
had met with ill, and we thanked God for the lucky chance that had put
us in the way of the Vicomte's messenger, and also that it was not
with us as with our man, for he had doubtless been killed, and indeed
he was never seen again. Back we sent the courier with a spare horse
to announce our speedy coming, and it was a gay and joyous party that
splashed through the sparkling waters of the Gartempe. Even I, for the
moment, forgot everything with the glad tidings that had come like the
lark's song in the morning to cheer my friend's heart, and for a brief
space I forgot de Lorgnac and my bonds, and was once more Denise de
Mieux, as heedless and light-hearted as youth, high spirits, and
health could make me. It was decided to push on to Ambazac at any cost
by that evening. The news we had heard seemed to lighten even the
loads of the pack animals, and we soon left the silver thread of the
river behind us, and entered the outskirts of the Viennois. As for me,
I do not know how it was, but I was, as I have said, in the wildest of
spirits, and nothing could content me but the most rapid motion. At
one time I urged my horse far in advance of the party, at another I
circled round and round them, or lagged behind, till they were all but
out of sight, and then caught them up at the full speed of my beast,
and all this despite Lalande's grumbling that the horse would be worn
out. He spoke truly enough, but I was in one of those moods that can
brook no control, and went my own way. I was destined, however, to be
brought back sharply to the past, from which for the moment I had
escaped. As we reached the wooded hills of Les Eschelles, I had
allowed the party to go well in advance of me, and, stopping for a
moment, dismounted near a spring from which a little brook, hedged in
on each side with ferns, babbled noisily off along the hillside. To
me, who after all, loved the fresh sweet country, the scene was
enchanting. The road wound half-way up the side of the spur, and the
rough hillside with its beech forests, amongst the leaves of which
twined the enchanter's nightshade, swept downwards in bold curves into
a wild moorland, covered with purple heather and golden broom. The
sheer rock above me was gay with pink mallow, and the crimson of the
cranesbill flashed here and there, whilst the swish of the bracken in
the breeze was pleasant to my ears. Overhead, between me and the
absolute blue of the sky, was a yellow lacework of birch leaves, and a
wild rose, thick with its snowy bloom, scrambled along the face of the
rock just above the spring. It was to gather a bouquet of these
flowers for Madame that I had halted and dismounted. The task was more
difficult than I imagined, and whilst I was wrestling with it, I heard
the full rich baritone of a man's voice singing out into the morning,
and the next moment, the singer turned the corner of a bluff a few
yards from me, and Raoul de Clermont was before me. He stopped short
in his song with an exclamation, and, lifting his plumed hat, said in
astonishment:
"You, mademoiselle! Pardon--Madame de Lorgnac! Where in the world have
you dropped from? Or, stay--are you the genius of this spot?" and his
laughing eyes looked me full in the face.
I stood with my flowers in my hands, inwardly trembling, but outwardly
calm.
"It is rather for me to ask where in the world you have sprung from,
monsieur. It is not fair to startle people like this."
"I ask your pardon once more. As it happens, I am travelling on
business and pleasure combined. My estates of Clermont-Ferrand lie but
a short way from here, as you perhaps know; but let me help you to add
to those flowers you have gathered," and he sprang from his horse.
"No, thank you, Monsieur de Clermont," I answered hastily. "I must
hurry on lest Madame de Termes, with whom I am travelling, should
think I am lost."
"So it is Monsieur de Clermont now, is it? It will be a stiff Monsieur
le Marquis soon," and my heart began to beat, though I said nothing,
and he went on: "For old sake's sake let me gather that cluster yonder
for you, and then Monsieur de Clermont will take you to Madame."
With a touch of his poniard he cut the flowers, and handed them to me,
breaking one as he did and fastening it into the flap of his
pourpoint. So quiet and masterful was his manner that I did nothing to
resist, and then, putting me on my horse, he mounted himself, saying
with that joyous laugh of his:
"Now, fair lady, let us hasten onward to Madame de Termes. I need
protection, too--I fear my knaves have lagged far behind."