IN THE RAVEN'S NEST.
WHEN Le Gros Guillem was carried back to his room, he said to his wife,
"Where is Noémi?"
"I believe--that is, I suppose she is going to her Aunt Tarde at La
Roque. She said something about it. Something has occurred and she is
not herself. I don't know what it is."
"I dare say!" laughed the Captain. "Noémi has witnessed this day what
has been seen by few girls. She stood it manfully--at the last."
"I dare say. I know nothing about it," said his wife.
"If she is going to La Roque, then Roger and Amanieu shall accompany
her. I have a letter to transmit to Ste. Soure."
He sent for writing materials, and wrote in a scrawling hand:
"Dear and most valiant friend, Seigneur Jean del'
Peyra at Le Peuch Ste. Soure.--Please you to know that
your father is let down into oblivion. Dear and
well-loved Sir, God have you ever in guard.
"Written at Domme, Wednesday, and sent by the hands of
Roger and Amanieu."
That was the fashion of epistolary correspondence as conducted in those
times. "Dear friend" was the salutation to a deadly foe, "God have you
ever in guard," when the writer would like to cut the throat of him he
addressed.
Such was the letter received by Jean del' Peyra. It was not explicit. He
had been in the greatest anxiety relative to his father. That he would
be put to ransom was his hope, but not his expectation.
He looked to the bearer of the epistle for explanation, and then for the
first time saw Noémi, her face rigid and ghastly, as though she had seen
a ghost, and could not shake off the impression.
"Jean," she said, "let them go back. I will tell you all, between you
and myself. No, not back. Step aside."
When Noémi saw that she and Jean were alone she said--
"Do you not understand? Your father--he has been let down into an
_oubliette_."
Jean started back as though he had been struck in the face by a mailed
hand.
"And now," proceeded Noémi, "there is but one chance for him, one way
open to you."
"Where--where is it?" gasped the lad.
"At Domme. No, you cannot storm that castle. It has held out against
French and English, and it would hold out against your peasants."
Jean looked at her in silence. What other way was open?
"You must go yourself to Domme," she said.
"And entreat for my father? We will sell all--land, castle,
seigneury--all!"
"That will not suffice. The Captain would take you and cast you in where
lies your unhappy father."
"Then what do you mean?"
"You must take me."
"Along with me--to Domme?"
"No, take and confine me here."
"I do not understand."
"I can--I saw it. I saw it at once when I was in that horrible place,
when my father refused to listen to me and I pleaded for him. Then I saw
clearly there was no other chance for his life."
"And that is----?"
"That you put me into the same position."
"What, in an _oubliette_?"
"Put me in a dungeon, and threaten unless your father be restored, and
back here safe by sunrise to-morow, that you will cast me down as he has
been cast down."
"We have no _oubliettes_ here."
"You have precipices."
Jean looked in astonishment at the girl.
"See, Jean!" she said, and a dark spot came in each cheek, "by no other
way can you rescue your father than by going before _him_--I mean my
father, and threatening that unless your father be released immediately,
you will have me put to the same horrible end."
"Never!"
"It must be."
"It would never be done--never."
"Listen to me, Jean. You must have me imprisoned here. Place guards over
me and go to my father fearlessly. Say to him that the instant the first
spark of the sun lifts over yon hill"--she pointed to the heights
opposite--"if the Seigneur and you are not here to stay their hands, you
have told your guards to throw me down."
"If I were to threaten it, it would not be done."
"Yes, it would. Do you suppose that your peasants here and your armed
men would spare me if they knew that their Seigneur and his son had both
been sacrificed by Le Gros Guillem? They would tear me to pieces. The
women would stab me with their bodkins. I had rather be dashed down the
cliffs than that."
The young man remained silent, considering. The girl's proposal did give
him a hope of recovering his father; the threat, which he did not for a
moment entertain the thought of executing, might, perhaps, force the
_routier_ captain to surrender his prey.
Noémi plucked a ring from her finger and extended it to Jean.
"I see," said she, "you will yield. Take this as token to my father that
I am here, as sign that your menace is not an idle one. Now lead me
away."
In the congeries of precipitous cliffs, like teeth, that rise above Ste.
Soure and go by the name of Le Peuch, one possesses a rock-refuge of a
peculiar character. To reach it a steep ascent has to be effected up an
almost vertical piece of rock, in which places have been cut for the
feet. This climb gives access to a grassy ledge. If this ledge be
pursued, a buttress of crag is reached that completely blocks the
terrace. But this has been scooped out, like a carious tooth, into a
chamber or guard-room. It is entered by a door artificially cut, and he
who explores the place there finds himself in an apartment with a window
dug through the face looking south, and with sheer precipice below it.
At the back are seats cut in the stone.
Immediately opposite the entrance is another door, communicating with
another ledge, which, however, does not extend more than ten feet, and
ends in steep cliff. Along the face of this cliff holes have been
scooped for the reception of the feet, so that a man can walk along the
front of the rock till he reaches a projecting mass like that he has
traversed, and this mass is excavated into a series of chambers.
This rock-refuge is one that could not be taken, if only moderate
precautions were observed. The man who passed in the socket-holes for
his feet to the door of the first chamber scooped out in the scar must
traverse in front of a window, through which it would suffice for a
child to thrust his hand to touch him to upset his balance and send him
headlong below to certain death.
There was no place better calculated to serve as a prison than this
Raven's Nest, as it was called. Jean was by no means sure that what
Noémi said might not come true; if the peasants learned who she was,
they might take advantage of his absence literally to tear her to
pieces, for they were greatly exasperated at the loss of their master,
the old Seigneur. If he were to leave the girl for some hours at Le
Peuch, she must not only be protected against an attempt at recapture,
but against the resentment of his own people, who might lose their heads
when they found that he as well as his father was lost to them. A woman
like Rossignol's wife was a firebrand inflamed with unslaked lust for
revenge. A few words from her might set all in movement. The Southern
Gauls are an impulsive, excitable, and, when excited, an unreasoning
people. The _routiers_ had not spared their wives and daughters, why
should they scruple about reprisals on the daughter of their deadliest
oppressor?
Distressed as Jean was at his father's fate, the fear of what might
happen to Noémi if left alone at Le Peuch for a moment overbore his
filial distress.
"You must follow me," he said; and he beckoned to the two men who had
attended her to accompany him as well.
Without further words he led them up the ascent, along the ledge, and
into the guard-room.
There he said to Amanieu and Roger--
"Your Captain's daughter is going to remain yonder." He pointed across
the gulf to the rock chambers in the projecting mass of cliff. "I shall
not be at Ste. Soure to protect her. You know what these people are.
Even you are not safe, though my father granted you both your lives. As
I see, you no longer bear the brand of lawlessness. Do not concern
yourself about what takes me away. I leave you here in guard of her. Let
no one approach. Yonder, in those retreats, there is always a supply of
food, in case of emergency. There is water also. You need not enter for
that. She will pass to you what you require through the window. Keep
guard here for her sake and for your own, till I return." Then to Noémi
he said, "Dare you follow me?"
"I!" she said, and almost laughed. "Have you forgotten the stair to the
Bishop's Castle?"
Jean stepped off the platform, and walked along the face of the rock and
was immediately followed by the girl, without the least misgiving or
giddiness.
On reaching the door cut in the crag on the further side, Jean stepped
in.
These rock chambers are cool in summer and warm in winter. There was no
well here dug in the heart of the rock. Probably owing to its height
above the level of the Vézère--some 300 feet--it had not been thought
likely that a vein of water would be tapped; so the atmospheric moisture
was caught by little runnels scored in the rock, and all these runnels
led into a receiver, in which there was generally to be found a supply
of water, though not a great quantity. Each window was provided with
shutters, and doors fitted into the entrances, and could be fastened.
Beds were scooped in the rock, arched above, and these couches were
strewn with heather and fern. In cupboards cut in the walls were stores,
to be used in case of necessity.
When Jean had shown the girl everything, he held out his hand.
"Noémi!" he said, and his voice shook, "good-bye! We may never meet
again. But do not think that harm would be done you by me--even if the
worst were to happen!"
"Jean!" she answered gravely, and went to the doorway, and looked down.
"Do you think that anyone who fell here, who tripped coming along these
steps, who stumbled at the threshold, would not be dashed to pieces in
an instant?"
"I am sure he would. That is what affords you protection here."
"I do not mean that, Jean." She refrained from speaking for a moment. He
put out his hand to her, and she took his. Both their hands trembled.
"Jean, I shall watch for the sunrise from the little window. If you and
your father have not returned----"
"Then we shall both perish together in the _oubliette_."
"Yes--and the moment the sun comes up----"
"Noémi--what then?"
"The moment I see the first fire-spark----"
"Noémi!" He feared to hear what she was going to say.
"Yes, Jean, I shall throw myself down--here."