At nine o'clock I was waiting by the window, and even as a bugle
sounded "lights out" in the barracks and change of guard, I let the
string down. Mr. Stevens shot round the corner of the chateau, just
as the departing sentinel disappeared, and attached a bundle to the
string, and I drew it up.
"Is all well?" I called softly down.
"All well," said Mr. Stevens, and, hugging the wall of the chateau,
he sped away. In another moment a new sentinel began pacing up and
down, and I shut the window and untied my bundle. All that I had
asked for was there. I hid the things away in the alcove and went to
bed at once, for I knew that I should have no sleep on the following
night.
I did not leave my bed till the morning was well advanced. Once
or twice during the day I brought my guards in with fear on their
faces, the large fat man more distorted than his fellow, by the
lamentable sounds I made with my willow toys. They crossed
themselves again and again, and I myself appeared devout and
troubled. When we walked abroad during the afternoon, I chose to
saunter by the river rather than walk, for I wished to conserve my
strength, which was now vastly increased, though, to mislead my
watchers and the authorities, I assumed the delicacy of an invalid,
and appeared unfit for any enterprise--no hard task, for I was
still very thin and worn.
So I sat upon a favourite seat on the cliff, set against a solitary
tree, fixed in the rocks. I gazed long on the river, and my guards,
stoutly armed, stood near, watching me, and talking in low tones.
Eager to hear their gossip, I appeared to sleep. They came nearer,
and, facing me, sat upon a large stone, and gossiped freely
concerning the strange sounds heard in my room at the chateau.
"See you, my Bamboir," said the lean to the fat soldier, "the
British captain, he is to be carried off in burning flames by that
La Jongleuse. We shall come in one morning and find a smell of
sulphur only, and a circle of red on the floor where the imps
danced before La Jongleuse said to them, 'Up with him, darlings,
and away!'"
At this Bamboir shook his head, and answered, "To-morrow I'll to the
Governor, and tell him what's coming. My wife, she falls upon my
neck this morning. 'Argose,' she says, ''twill need the bishop and
his college to drive La Jongleuse out of the grand chateau.'"
"No less," replied the other. "A deacon and sacred palm and
sprinkle of holy water would do for a cottage, or even for a little
manor house, with twelve candles burning, and a hymn to the Virgin.
But in a king's house--"
"It's not the King's house."
"But yes, it is the King's house, though his Most Christian
Majesty lives in France. The Marquis de Vaudreuil stands for the
King, and we are sentinels in the King's house. But, my faith, I'd
rather be fighting against Frederick, the Prussian boar, than
watching this mad Englishman."
"But see you, my brother, that Englishman's a devil. Else how has he
not been hanged long ago? He has vile arts to blind all, or he would
not be sitting there. It is well known that M'sieu' Doltaire, even
the King's son--his mother worked in the fields like your Nanette,
Bamboir--"
"Or your Lablanche, my friend. She has hard hands, with warts,
and red knuckles therefrom--"
"Or your Nanette, Bamboir, with nose that blisters in the summer,
as she goes swingeing flax, and swelling feet that sweat in sabots,
and chin thrust out from carrying pails upon her head--"
"Ay, like Nanette and like Lablanche, this peasant mother of M'sieu'
Doltaire, and maybe no such firm breasts like Nanette--"
"Nor such an eye as has Lablanche. Well, M'sieu' Doltaire, who
could override them all, he could not kill this barbarian. And
Gabord--you know well how they fought, and the black horse and
his rider came and carried him away. Why, the young M'sieu'
Duvarney had him on his knees, the blade at his throat,
and a sword flashed out from the dark--they say it was the
devil's--and took him in the ribs and well-nigh killed him."
"But what say you to Ma'm'selle Duvarney coming to him that day,
and again yesterday with Gabord?"
"Well, well, who knows, Bamboir? This morning I said to Nanette,
'Why is't, all in one moment, you send me to the devil, and pray to
meet me in Abraham's bosom too?' What think you she answered me?
Why, this, my Bamboir: 'Why is't Adam loved his wife and swore
her down before the Lord also, all in one moment?' Why Ma'm'selle
Duvarney does this or that is not for muddy brains like ours. It
is some whimsy. They say that women are more curious about the
devil than about St. Jean Baptiste. Perhaps she got of him a
magic book."
"No, no! If he had the magic Petit Albert, he would have turned
us into dogs long ago. But I do not like him. He is but thirty
years, they say, and yet his hair is white as a pigeon's wing. It
is not natural. Nor did he ever, says Gabord, do aught but laugh at
everything they did to him. The chains they put would not stay,
and when he was set against the wall to be shot, the watches
stopped--the minute of his shooting passed. Then M'sieu' Doltaire
came, and said a man that could do a trick like that should live
to do another. And he did it, for M'sieu' Doltaire is gone to
the Bastile. Voyez, this Englishman is a damned heretic, and has
the wicked arts."
"But see, Bamboir, do you think he can cast spells?"
"What mean those sounds from his room?"
"So, so. But if he be a friend of the devil, La Jongleuse would
not come for him, but--"
Startled and excited, they grasped each other's arms. "But for
us--for us!"
"It would be a work of God to send him to the devil," said Bamboir
in a loud whisper. "He has given us trouble enough. Who can tell
what comes next? Those damned noises in his room, eh--eh?"
Then they whispered together, and presently I caught a fragment,
by which I understood that, as we walked near the edge of the
cliff, I should be pushed over, and they would make it appear
that I had drowned myself.
They talked in low tones again, but soon got louder, and presently
I knew that they were speaking of La Jongleuse; and Bamboir--the
fat Bamboir, who the surgeon had said would some day die of
apoplexy--was rash enough to say that he had seen her. He
described her accurately, with the spirit of the born raconteur:
"Hair so black as the feather in the Governor's hat, and green
eyes that flash fire, and a brown face with skin all scales. Oh,
my saints of Heaven, when she pass I hide my head, and I go cold
like stone. She is all covered with long reeds and lilies about her
head and shoulders, and blue-red sparks fly up at every step. Flames
go round her, and she burns not her robe--not at all. And as she go,
I hear cries that make me sick, for it is, I said, some poor man
in torture, and I think, perhaps it is Jacques Villon, perhaps Jean
Rivas, perhaps Angele Damgoche. But no, it is a young priest of St.
Clair, for he is never seen again--never!"
In my mind I commended this fat Bamboir as an excellent
story-teller, and thanked him for his true picture of La Jongleuse,
whom, to my regret, I had never seen. I would not forget his
stirring description, as he should see. I gave point to the tale by
squeezing an inflated toy in my pocket, with my arm, while my hands
remained folded in front of me; and it was as good as a play to see
the faces of these soldiers, as they sprang to their feet, staring
round in dismay. I myself seemed to wake with a start, and, rising
to my feet, I asked what meant the noise and their amazement. We
were in a spot where we could not easily be seen from any distance,
and no one was in sight, nor were we to be remarked from the fort.
They exchanged looks, as I started back towards the chateau,
walking very near the edge of the cliff. A spirit of bravado came
on me, and I said musingly to them as we walked:
"It would be easy to throw you both over the cliff, but I love you
too well. I have proved that by making toys for your children."
It was as cordial to me to watch their faces. They both drew
away from the cliff, and grasped their firearms apprehensively.
"My God," said Bamboir, "those toys shall be burned to-night.
Alphonse has the smallpox and Susanne the croup--damned devil!" he
added furiously, stepping forward to me with gun raised, "I'll--"
I believe he would have shot me, but that I said quickly, "If you
did harm to me you'd come to the rope. The Governor would rather
lose a hand than my life."
I pushed his musket down. "Why should you fret? I am leaving the
chateau to-morrow for another prison. You fools, d'ye think I'd
harm the children? I know as little of the devil or La Jongleuse
as do you. We'll solve the witcheries of these sounds, you and I,
to-night. If they come, we'll say the Lord's Prayer, and make the
sacred gesture, and if it goes not, we will have one of your good
priests to drive out this whining spirit."
This quieted them much, and I was glad of it, for they had looked
bloodthirsty enough, and though I had a weapon on me, there was
little use in seeking fighting or flight till the auspicious moment.
They were not satisfied, however, and they watched me diligently as
we came on to the chateau.
I could not bear that they should be frightened about their
children, so I said:
"Make for me a sacred oath, and I will swear by it that those
toys will do your children no harm."
I drew out the little wooden cross that Mathilde had given me,
and held it up. They looked at me astonished. What should I, a
heretic and a Protestant, do with this sacred emblem? "This
never leaves me," said I; "it was a pious gift."