AT THE SIGN OF THE GOLDEN FROG.
At first we managed to get along at a fair pace, as the road was good
and we were well able to see our way by the moonlight; but after
crossing the Taurion by a frail wooden bridge, which creaked and
groaned ominously as we passed over it, Lalande took a turn to the
right and followed a narrow track whereon we had to ride nose to tail.
Womanlike, I began to think he was taking the wrong road, and asked
him whither he was leading us.
"St. Priest-Taurion lies on the main road, madame, and it would be
well to avoid it. Let not madame have any fear. I could make my way to
Meymac blindfold."
"And want to show off by picking the most horrible paths," shrilled
out Mousette, whose temper, never of the best, had gone to ribbons,
and little wonder, too, poor thing!
"It would be well if we speak in lower tones--better still not to
speak at all," said the equerry, and silencing Mousette with a
reprimand, I asked Lalande to lead on.
Whilst the motion was fast it was not possible to think, but now that
we were going at something like a snail's pace, I unconsciously gave
myself over to my reflections, though I had by this time reached a
state of mind when it seemed impossible for me to distinguish between
right and wrong, or to think coherently. The proof of the truth of de
Clermont's story had accentuated the bitterness in my heart against my
husband, and this was not lessened when I remembered the infamy of the
enterprise which he had undertaken, and of which I was the price. I
had it once or twice in my mind to try and prevent the crime he
contemplated by attempting to warn the Bearnnois; but it was
impossible to do so from here, and I should have to make the attempt
from Meymac. Then that thought gave place to de Clermont, and with the
memory of him regrets that I had not taken his offer, and by one
desperate stroke freed myself forever from de Lorgnac, even at the
cost of that good opinion of the world, we pretend to despise and yet
value so much, even against what I felt to be the teachings of my
conscience. After all I was merely holding to vows that I had never
really made. The priest's benediction surely could not bind me forever
to a hateful life. I had my dreams as all young women and young men
have--of a life that I could share with one whom I could trust and
honour and love. One whose joys would be my joys, whose sorrows would
be my sorrows, whose ambitions and hopes would be my ambitions and
hopes, and so to pass hand in hand with him until one or both of us
were called away to fulfil the mystery of life by death. And de
Clermont? Could he have been the one to have so travelled with me? Did
I love him? For the life of me I could not tell at that moment. At one
time I seemed dragged towards him, at another there was a positive
repulsion, and through it all there was an ever-warning voice within
me, like the tolling of a bell hung over a sunken rock to warn
mariners of danger, telling me, "Beware! Beware!" I felt in my heart
that he did not ring true metal--why, I could not tell--nor can I tell
now. But I suppose that God, who has limited the capacity of us women
to reason as compared with man, has given to us this faculty of
intuition by which we can know. Would that it were followed more
often; would that its warnings were ever heeded! Such were the
thoughts that chased each other through my brain as the long hours
passed, and then they seemed to twine themselves together into a
network that left me powerless to follow them and unravel the tangle.
Oh, it was a weary ride! Overhead hung the moon now light, then
darkened by flitting clouds, with a few stars showing here and there
in the sky. On all sides of us floated a dim silvery haze that made it
appear as if we were going through Dreamland; dark shadows of trees,
fantastic rocks that might have been thrown here and there by giants
at play, and a road that turned and twisted like a serpent's track,
full of stones and boulders, on which our horses continually stumbled,
but, mercifully, did not come down and bring us with them. There was
one advantage we derived from these boulders. They kept the horses and
ourselves from sleeping, for after a stumble and a jerk, both beast
and rider began to see the folly of nodding, and bravely strove to
keep awake. At last we came to something that looked like level
ground, and Lalande suggested that we should increase our pace to a
canter, adding truly enough that it would rouse us all up. We followed
his advice, nothing loath, and kept at this pace with occasional halts
to rest the horses, for the best part of the night. At last, however,
neither Mousette nor myself could endure going on longer, and indeed
our horses were as much, if not more worn out than we were. In short,
we were so fatigued that I had got into a frame of mind in which I did
not care what happened to me, one way or the other, and Mousette, poor
girl, was crying softly to herself, though she kept her way with the
greatest courage. This being the case, I called to Lalande that we
could not go on any further; but at his intercession we made yet
another effort, and at last we halted near a clump of beeches, close
to which a small brook purled by. I do not think I shall ever forget
the kindness and attention of the honest fellow. He made us as
comfortable a resting-place as he could contrive with the aid of
saddles and rugs, and then, giving us some wine to drink, bade us
sleep, whilst he retired a little distance--not to rest, but to attend
to the horses and keep a watch. So utterly tired out were we that we
must have fallen asleep at once, and the sun was already rising when
Lalande aroused us.
"If madame does not mind," he said, "it will be well if we move
further up into that wood yonder and rest there, whilst I go to a
village hard at hand, and procure some food, and take news of the
state of the road."
To this I assented readily, and after walking for about a quarter of a
mile we found a spot which exactly suited our purpose, where both we
and the horses could be concealed for the remainder of the day, if it
was so necessary, without any fear of discovery. Lalande then started
off for the village, and we waited his coming with a hungry
impatience, taking, however, the opportunity of his absence to make a
forest toilet. It was some time before the equerry came back, and we
were just beginning to be alarmed at his absence when he appeared,
bearing with him the things he went to procure, and whilst Mousette
and I were eating, he told us what he had found out, adding:
"I regret that madame will not be able to travel by daylight--that
_croquemort_ la Coquille and his gang passed through St. Bathilde
yesterday, and are in the neighbourhood, and not they alone, but one
or two others of like kidney. We shall have to make our way as best we
can by night."
But this was too much--not for anything was I going to endure the
misery of last night over again, and I argued and expostulated with
Lalande, Mousette joining with me with shrill objurgations, and at
last the poor fellow gave in, but I confess with a very bad grace,
grumbling a good deal to himself and declaring he would be no longer
responsible for our safety. I own now that we were wrong in persisting
as we did, but I put it to any one if they would have endured what we
had to endure without protest; and then we were women, and I am afraid
possessed some of that contrariness of disposition which I have heard
the opposite sex credit us with--though for pure, mulish obstinacy,
give me a man who thinks he has made up his mind.
Lalande was, however, determined upon one thing, and that was to avoid
the main road, and as I had so far successfully opposed his plan of
forcing a night journey, I did not feel justified in making further
objections, and allowed him to follow the by-paths he chose without
further protest, though indeed, it was as if there was some truth in
Mousette's remark of last night, that he was choosing the most
difficult tracks to show how well he knew the way. We now entered the
mountains of the Limousin, and what would have been a mile elsewhere,
became three here with the ups and downs, the turns and twists. For
miles we passed never a human habitation, except now and again a few
woodcutters' huts, and sometimes a small outlying farm, and I felt the
justice of Lalande's remark, when he defended himself from a sharp
attack by Mousette, by saying he had chosen this road because it was
safe from gentlemen like la Coquille, who never found any bones worth
the picking on it, and therefore left it and its difficulties severely
alone--though, of course, there was the odd chance of our meeting
them, and so again to the old argument of travelling by night. As we
went on the scenery became wilder and more savage, and once a large
grey wolf, with two cubs by her side, appeared on the track about
fifty paces or so in front of us, and after giving our party a quiet
survey, and showing us a line of great strong teeth as she snarled on
us, trotted calmly off with her family down the hillside. Both
Mousette and myself were not unnaturally alarmed; but Lalande, with a
"Never fear, madame, there is no danger," kept quietly along, though I
saw that he had pulled a pistol from his holster. As the day advanced
we became aware that the sun was being obscured by clouds more often
than it should be at this time of year, and every now and again gusts
of wind would race down the ravines, and lose themselves with ominous
warnings through the forest. Still, however, the horizon was clear,
and high above all others we could make out the crest of Mount Odouze.
I asked Lalande if he thought there was likely to be a storm.
"It is hard to tell, madame; storms come on very suddenly in these
hills, but if there is one it will not be very bad, for we can see the
Cradle, as that dip between the two peaks of Mount Odouze is called,
quite distinctly."
But though he spoke thus reassuringly, I saw that he increased the
pace, and that ever and again he would scan the horizon, and look up
at the sky. Once when he thought I had caught him, he explained as he
pointed upwards:
"'Tis a red eagle, madame, that must have flown here from the
Pyrenees--a long journey. See--there it is--that speck in the sky."
I followed his glance, but could make out nothing. "You have sharp
eyesight, Lalande," I said with a smile, and then the matter dropped.
I could not, however, but think how good a heart was beneath that
rough exterior, and not the finest gentleman I have ever met could
have behaved to us with more chivalrous courtesy than did that simple
under officer of horse. A little past midday we rested for an hour or
so, more for the sake of the animals than ourselves, and then
continued our journey.
"We should make St. Yriarte by about three o'clock, madame," said
Lalande, "and there is a small inn there kept by my sister and her
husband, for we are of the Limousin. It is called 'The Golden Frog.'
We will stay there for the night, and a long march to-morrow will
bring us to Meymac by nightfall."
"Thank goodness!" exclaimed Mousette, "for every bone in my body aches
as if some one had beaten me."
As the time passed, bringing with it no storm, I began to think we
were safe from that annoyance, and at last from the crest of a hill
over which we were riding we suddenly came in sight of St. Yriarte,
lying below us in a little valley. As we did so Lalande called out,
"We will be there in half an hour, madame--and save all chance of a
wetting for to-night."
It took us a little time to descend the slope of the hill, but after
that we came to more or less level ground, and in a few moments
reached the gates of the inn, which stood in a large garden some way
apart from the hamlet, for St. Yriarte could be called by no other
name.
As we rode in a dog commenced to bark; Lalande called out "Jeanne!
Jeanne!" and, on our halting near the entrance, gay with honeysuckle,
in full bloom, Lalande's sister and her husband came out to meet us,
and seeing him, fell to embracing him, and there was an animated
converse carried on by all three at once, whilst Mousette and I were
kept waiting. Whilst we did this patiently, I began to look around me,
and for the first time became aware of the presence of a stranger. He
had been sitting on a garden seat, half-hidden by the falling
honeysuckle, but, as my eyes fell on him, he rose politely, and stood
as if in doubt, whether he should offer to assist me to dismount, or
not. He was a tall well-built man, with aquiline features, fair hair,
and blue eyes, and wore a short pointed beard slightly tinged with
grey. His dress was simple though rich, and it was easy to see that,
whoever he was, he was a person of some consequence. The position was
getting just a little absurd when Jeanne's voice rang out sharply:
"Of course! Of course! Madame de Lorgnac shall have the best we can
provide."
I saw the stranger start perceptibly, and an odd, curious look came
into his eyes. Then as if with an effort he stepped forward, and
lifting his hat said with a foreign accent:
"Will Madame de Lorgnac permit me to assist her to alight? I have the
honour to be known to Monsieur le Chevalier de Lorgnac. My name is
Norreys--Colonel Norreys, of whom, perhaps, you may have heard."
I became almost sick with fear and apprehension, for this was the very
man whom I least wished to meet. It was he who had borne the order
concerning me to de Termes. He must therefore be aware that my
presence there meant that I was in flight. He acknowledged himself to
be a friend of my husband, and I felt that all was lost. Mustering up
as much courage as I could I thanked him for his offer, and he helped
me to dismount, saying as he did so:
"Madame will find the inn more than comfortable. I have been here for
two days awaiting a friend. If he comes this evening I shall have to
leave to-morrow with the greatest regret. It has been so quiet and
peaceful here."
I glanced at him again. It was a strong, good face. The eyes looked at
me honestly, and in their clear depths I could see no deceit. That
woman's instinct of which I have spoken, told me at once that here was
a man to be trusted, that he was incapable of treachery. But the same
feeling used to come over me whenever I saw de Lorgnac, and yet--who
was more base than he?
Nevertheless, I was now moved by an impulse I could not resist.
"Monsieur de Norreys, will you see me in an hour? I have a favour to
ask of you."
He looked a little surprised, but bowed. "If there is anything I can
do for you, madame, command me." His tone was cold and formal, and
chilled me. Then he stepped to one side to let me pass, and I entered
the inn.
I had made up my mind. I felt sure that he was here to prevent my
going further. What else could have brought him to this out-of-the-way
place? But he looked a gentleman and a man of honour, and I would
follow the dictates of my heart, and throw myself on his mercy.