IN THE HAIL.
LE GROS GUILLEM was jubilant. He kept his secret. Not to one of his
men--not even to his lieutenant did he confide his purpose of surprising
the castle and town of La Roque Gageac, for he well knew that no secret
is safe when once it has slipped over the lips.
He was in excellent spirits, in buoyant, boisterous humour. He laughed
and joked with his men, and Guillem was too grim a man to be often given
to jest. He bade his men look to their arms, and he detailed those who
were to follow him on an expedition. Whither he was going he did not
say--but with him that was usual--he let no breath of rumour escape as
to his destination whenever he made a raid, and on this account he was
almost always successful; he came down like a bolt out of the sky on
some spot, totally unprepared to resist him, and none could betray his
scheme, and prepare those fallen upon, for none knew his destination
till he started.
"Heliot!" called Guillem, suddenly arresting himself as he was drawing a
long sword from the scabbard to examine if it were free of rust. "Did
you observe that old man who was here last evening?"
"I saw him come in, Captain."
"But--there is something in his face familiar to me--I fancy I have seen
him before--and yet--I am not sure."
"He said that he came from Gageac and had relatives in this town."
"That may be it. To be sure--he told me, a married daughter--I have seen
him here at some fair, may be. It will not out of my head, I have seen
him--and cannot say where. He looks like a broken priest."
"As he walked he was bowed, and I could not see his face, Captain,"
answered Heliot.
"It matters not. Is there any moon to-night, Heliot?"
"There is a new moon, Captain; you can see her in the sky, she does not
set till early morning, just before daybreak. But we shall see little of
her tonight; there are thick clouds coming up against the wind--piled up
as though full of thunder."
"So much the better. Heliot, I will tell you now what is to be done--we
must cross the Dordogne." More than that he would not say.
The city of Sarlat lies at a distance of several miles from the river,
and is accessible by two valleys, one of which opens on to the Dordogne
under the rock of Vitrac, a sheer limestone cliff, the top of which is
occupied by a village and castle, the foot bathed by the river, and the
defile up which the road runs commanded not only by the castle of
Vitrac, but by another, a tower on the further side, and these two were
designed to completely bar the way to the town. The other way is more
tortuous, and was also defended both by the great castle and rock of
Beynac and also by a low hill in the midst of the open valley that was
likewise fortified. The situation may be best understood if we imagine a
great triangular plateau with Sarlat at the apex and the Dordogne
flowing at the base; midway on that base stands La Roque.
With the river thus watched and every road guarded jealously, it was
important for Le Gros Guillem to cross in the dark, unperceived, lest a
warning should be sent to La Roque, and the garrison be set on the alert
so that the castellan would be unable to fulfil his engagement.
As the evening closed in the clouds that had been noticed by Heliot
covered the whole heavens. There was no wind below; at the same time one
must have been blowing aloft, for the vapours parted and disclosed the
moon and then drifted over its face again, and through them it peered
dimly, like an eye with cataract over it, or else became totally
obscured.
The men detailed for the expedition were assembled in the courtyard of
the castle. They were not mounted--horses were unnecessary and
inconvenient. The tramp might be heard and cause alarm. The _routiers_
remained in their ranks motionless till the word was given, and then
silently they defiled out of the castle, through the street of Domme,
and the town portcullis was raised to allow them to pass forth.
Le Gros Guillem had boats on the river at his command. And the passage
of the Dordogne was effected in the darkness successfully without
attention being attracted on the opposite bank. The companions issued
from the boats and drew up on the bank till the Captain gave the command
to march, when they proceeded down the right bank of the river without
speaking and without making any noise. Owing to the rainfall the way was
muddy and the mud prevented their tramp from being audible. Shortly
before the hour named by the castellan the entire party was near the
Sarlat gate, concealed behind vineyard walls and bushes.
The town that was menaced seemed to be buried in slumber and security.
The only light discernible was the faint glow through the church window
of S. Donat, where the sanctuary lamp burned. There was not even a light
in the castle--which in the general darkness was indiscernible--only the
mighty cliff into which it was built stood high overhead like a gigantic
wave ready to fall and bury everything beneath it. The Captain picked
out the men he had fixed on to accompany him and gave his instructions
to the others in a whisper. As soon as the alarm-bell sounded in the
castle they were to draw rapidly to the gate. Their comrades within
would open, "and," said Guillem, "the town is yours--to do as you please
therein." Then he advanced cautiously with his five men to the postern
at the side and not to the main gate. This postern was small, it would
admit but one man at a time.
On reaching it Guillem scratched with the point of his sword, and the
signal was answered at once--cautiously the door was unbarred and
unlocked and the castellan appeared in it. The clouds had momentarily
parted and the new moon gleamed forth and was reflected by the river.
Guillem could perceive that this was the same man who had visited him at
Domme.
"The word?"
"Le Peuch."
"It is well, Le Peuch. How many?" he asked under his breath.
"Myself and five," answered Guillem.
"It is well--let two men remain here. The others follow me." He led the
way up a steep stair of stone steps, past houses built into the rock,
past the little church, one wall of which was the rock itself, and the
roadway lay almost level with the eave. There was a clock in the tower,
it throbbed like the pulse of a living being--the pulse of the whole
town, but it beat evenly, as if the town was without fear.
The road lay beneath some houses; for, in order to penetrate from one
portion of the town to another, to reach from one ledge of rock with the
buildings occupying it where every foot of ground was precious, the path
was conducted beneath chambers, in which, overhead, the citizens were
peacefully sleeping, unsuspicious of what was proceeding below.
In another moment the platform had been reached below the sheer cliff
that rose without so much as a shelf on which a shrub could root itself,
even of a cranny in which a pink or harebell might cling.
All was now so dark that Guillem could not see his guide or his men.
Not a sound had been heard in the town--and here there was nothing
audible save a cat that was mewing. It had been shut out of a house and
feared that a storm was coming on. The time was winter, the little
creature was cold, and it craved for the warmth and the dryness of the
kitchen hearth. The foolish cat came up to Le Gros Guillem and rubbed
herself against his legs and pleaded for attention. Irritated at her
persistence and cries, the Captain dealt her a kick which sent her
flying and squealing. Then he regretted that he had done this, lest her
shrill cry should reach the mistress and induce her to open the door and
show a light.
But no token followed and showed that the cat had been heard. Again the
creature came near, mewing. The darkness was so dense that nothing could
be seen, not even the rock in front, only the buildings round loomed
black against the sky that was but a shade lighter than the rock.
Then hail rushed down, hissing, leaping, and with the hail a flash of
lightning revealing the blank wall of rock in front and the floor over
which the hailstones ran and spun.
"Where is the stair?" asked Le Gros Guillem of the castellan, who kept
at his side.
"Stair--what stair?"
"The way by which we are to mount into the castle?"
The old man chuckled.
"Wait a while," said he in a whisper. "When next the lightning flashes
look ahead of you--a little to the right, and you will see a cobweb path
up the face of the rock."
"Lead us to the path--cobweb or not we will mount it. We are accustomed
to that, and this is tedious--tarrying here. Curse that cat! Here she is
again!"
"Ah, Messire--you do not comprehend. Have you never been in La Roque?"
"I? Never! Do you suppose they would suffer me within the walls?"
"Then, Messire, you cannot understand how it is that of the garrison
none are awake, how it comes that there is no need for watchfulness.
Wait a while, the lightning--there--did you see?"
The old man pointed in the direction of the stair. The construction of
this path of ascent has been already described. It consisted of a ladder
of pegs driven into the rock, each peg sustained by a wedge underneath
it. Nothing was easier than by a blow to loosen the wedge and to throw
the steps down, and when down no passage could be effected to or from
the castle along the face of the rock.
"Did you observe?" asked the old man.
"I observed nothing save a stair."
"Look at the base of the stair. Ah! the hail! how it whitens the ground,
how it lights up the landscape. One can see a little now, and presently,
if you will have patience, Messire, I will explain it all."
"I want no explanation, I want to mount the stair and enter the castle."
"You cannot mount the stair. It is not possible. There--another
flash--now do you see? All the lower portion is removed, so that, till
put together again in the morning, no one can ascend. Moreover, there
aloft is a landing place, and between that landing place and the gate
there is a gap--and over that a draw-plank is lowered. Now, at night,
all the lowest rungs of the stair are taken away and above the plank is
lifted. There is no possibility of anyone mounting by that means."
"Then, in the devil's name, why have you brought us here? I tell you,
old man, I will drive my poignard down your throat if you have dared to
deceive me."
"I deceive you! Oh, Messire! There is a second way of entering the
castle."
"And that is----?"
"See!"
Again the lightning flickered, and now the clouds parting allowed the
moon to flash over the whitened earth and show the great wall of chalk
rock in front mounting into the sky and white as the ghostly clouds
touched by moonlight that moved above it. The freebooter saw something
hanging down the face of the cliff. It was a rope, and at the end was a
bar of wood some two feet long which it held in a horizontal position by
a knot in the middle.
"My good friend, whom you will have to reward, is above at the windlass.
You can mount, Messire. I have but to shake the cord and put my fingers
into my mouth and hoot as an owl and he will begin to wind up. It is by
this means that provisions are carried up, and by this one can go up or
down when the passage of the stair is cut off. Will you please to mount
first--or shall I, most honoured Captain?" The castellan took off his
hat and bowed.
Le Gros Guillem looked up a sheer height of a hundred feet; in the
uncertain light it appeared as though this cord was let down out of the
sky. He was a man who rarely knew fear--in the heat of conflict he never
knew it at all. He was dauntless in every daring feat; but this was a
venture sufficient to make even him hesitate. He knew not who was the
man at the capstan above. He was not sure that the rope would endure his
weight.
"Oh," said the castellan, "if you are afraid to trust yourself to this
cord, you must e'en return by the way you came. I thought other of Le
Gros Guillem, of the famous Captain. I did not think he would quail as a
girl from such a trifle as this. I will ascend first, and then you may
pluck up heart to follow an old man."
The castellan went to the rope and shook it twice, then imitated the
scream of an owl, and instantly planted himself on the pole and held the
cord with both hands. He began at once to ascend.
The sky cleared of thunder-cloud and the wan new moon illumined the
scene. The rock was white, and against it mounted a dark figure with a
darker shadow. The windlass moved noiselessly; Le Gros Guillem and his
men below heard no sound. The dark figure slid up the rock and became
smaller, ever smaller, and then disappeared. In the uncertain light, at
the great elevation they could not see, but supposed the castellan had
passed through a window into the castle.
Then rapidly down came rope and pole, and the latter hung swaying at a
couple of feet above the hail-strewn platform.
"In the devil's name, I will try it!" said Guillem, and committed
himself to the bar. He grasped the rope and hooted. At the same moment
the cat leaped and lighted on his shoulder. He would have thrust it off,
but could not. The rope had tightened, was straining, and he was carried
upwards off his feet.