MADEMOISELLE DE LA VIRE.
My first desperate impulse on discovering the magnitude of my loss was
to ride after the knaves and demand the token at the sword's point.
The certainty, however, of finding them united, and the difficulty of
saying which of the five possessed what I wanted, led me to reject
this plan as I grew cooler; and since I did not dream, even in this
dilemma, of abandoning the expedition, the only alternative seemed to
be to act as if I still had the broken coin, and essay what a frank
explanation might effect when the time came.
After some wretched, very wretched, moments of debate, I resolved to
adopt this course; and, for the present, thinking I might gain some
knowledge of the surroundings while the light lasted, I pushed
cautiously forward through the trees and came in less than five
minutes within sight of a corner of the chateau, which I found to be a
modern building of the time of Henry II., raised, like the houses of
that time, for pleasure rather than defence, and decorated with many
handsome casements and tourelles. Despite this, it wore, as I saw it,
a grey and desolate air, due in part to the loneliness of the
situation and the lateness of the hour; and in part, I think, to the
smallness of the household maintained, for no one was visible on the
terrace or at the windows. The rain dripped from the trees, which on
two sides pressed so closely on the house as almost to darken the
rooms, and everything I saw encouraged me to hope that mademoiselle's
wishes would second my entreaties, and incline her to lend a ready ear
to my story.
The appearance of the house, indeed, was a strong inducement to me to
proceed, for it was impossible to believe that a young lady, a
kinswoman of the gay and vivacious Turenne, and already introduced to
the pleasures of the Court, would elect of her own free will to spend
the winter in so dreary a solitude.
Taking advantage of the last moments of daylight, I rode cautiously
round the house, and, keeping in the shadow of the trees, had no
difficulty in discovering at the north-east corner the balcony of
which I had been told. It was semicircular in shape, with a stone
balustrade, and hung some fifteen feet above a terraced walk which ran
below it, and was separated from the chase by a low sunk fence.
I was surprised to observe that, notwithstanding the rain and the
coldness of the evening, the window which gave upon this balcony was
open. Nor was this all. Luck was in store for me at last. I had not
gazed at the window more than a minute, calculating its height and
other particulars, when, to my great joy, a female figure, closely
hooded, stepped out and stood looking up at the sky. I was too far off
to be able to discern by that uncertain light whether this was
Mademoiselle de la Vire or her woman; but the attitude was so clearly
one of dejection and despondency, that I felt sure it was either one
or the other. Determined not to let the opportunity slip, I dismounted
hastily and, leaving the Cid loose, advanced on foot until I stood
within half-a-dozen paces of the window.
At that point the watcher became aware of me. She started back, but
did not withdraw. Still peering down at me, she called softly to some
one inside the chamber, and immediately a second figure, taller and
stouter, appeared. I had already doffed my cap, and I now, in a low
voice, begged to know if I had the honour of speaking to Mademoiselle
de la Vire. In the growing darkness it was impossible to distinguish
faces.
'Hush!' the stouter figure muttered in a tone of warning. 'Speak
lower. Who are you, and what do you here?'
'I am here,' I answered respectfully, 'commissioned by a friend of the
lady I have named, to convey her to a place of safety.'
'Mondieu!' was the sharp answer. 'Now? It is impossible.'
'No,' I murmured, 'not now, but to-night. The moon rises at half-past
two. My horses need rest and food. At three I will be below this
window with the means of escape, if mademoiselle choose to use them.'
I felt that they were staring at me through the dusk, as though they
would read my breast. 'Your name, sir?' the shorter figure murmured at
last, after a pause which was full of suspense and excitement.
'I do not think my name of much import at present, Mademoiselle,' I
answered, reluctant to proclaim myself a stranger. 'When----'
'Your name, your name, sir!' she repeated imperiously, and I heard her
little heel rap upon the stone floor of the balcony.
'Gaston de Marsac,' I answered unwillingly.
They both started, and cried out together. 'Impossible!' the last
speaker exclaimed, amazement and anger in her tone. 'This is a jest,
sir. This----'
What more she would have said I was left to guess, for at that moment
her attendant--I had no doubt now which was mademoiselle and which
Fanchette--suddenly laid her hand on her mistress's mouth and pointed
to the room behind them. A second's suspense, and with a warning
gesture the two turned and disappeared through the window.
I lost no time in regaining the shelter of the trees; and concluding,
though I was far from satisfied with the interview, that I could do
nothing more now, but might rather, by loitering in the neighbourhood,
awaken suspicion, I remounted and made for the highway and the
village, where I found my men in noisy occupation of the inn, a poor
place, with unglazed windows, and a fire in the middle of the earthen
floor. My first care was to stable the Cid in a shed at the back,
where I provided for its wants as far as I could with the aid of a
half-naked boy, who seemed to be in hiding there.
This done, I returned to the front of the house, having pretty well
made up my mind how I would set about the task before me. As I passed
one of the windows, which was partially closed by a rude curtain made
of old sacks, I stopped to look in. Fresnoy and his four rascals were
seated on blocks of wood round the hearth, talking loudly and
fiercely, and ruffling it as if the fire and the room were their own.
A pedlar, seated on his goods in one corner, was eyeing them with
evident fear and suspicion; in another corner two children had taken
refuge under a donkey, which some fowls had chosen as a roosting-pole.
The innkeeper, a sturdy fellow, with a great club in his fist, sat
moodily at the foot of a ladder which led to the loft above, while a
slatternly woman, who was going to and fro getting supper, seemed in
equal terror of her guests and her good man.
Confirmed by what I saw, and assured that the villains were ripe for
any mischief, and, if not checked, would speedily be beyond my
control, I noisily flung the door open and entered. Fresnoy looked up
with a sneer as I did so, and one of the men laughed. The others
became silent; but no one moved or greeted me. Without a moment's
hesitation I stepped to the nearest fellow and, with a sturdy kick,
sent his log from under him. 'Rise, you rascal, when I enter!' I
cried, giving vent to the anger I had long felt. 'And you, too!' and
with a second kick I sent his neighbour's stool flying also, and
administered a couple of cuts with my riding-cane across the man's
shoulders. 'Have you no manners, sirrah? Across with you, and leave
this side to your betters.'
The two rose, snarling and feeling for their weapons, and for a moment
stood facing me, looking now at me and now askance at Fresnoy. But as
he gave no sign, and their comrades only laughed, the men's courage
failed them at the pinch, and with a very poor grace they sneaked over
to the other side of the fire and sat there scowling.
I seated myself beside their leader. 'This gentleman and I will eat
here,' I cried to the man at the foot of the ladder. 'Bid your wife
lay for us, and of the best you have; and do you give those knaves
their provender where the smell of their greasy jackets will not come
between us and our victuals.'
The man came forward, glad enough, as I saw, to discover any one in
authority, and very civilly began to draw wine and place a board for
us, while his wife filled our platters from the black pot which hung
over the fire. Fresnoy's face meanwhile wore the amused smile of one
who comprehended my motives, but felt sufficiently sure of his
position and influence with his followers to be indifferent to my
proceedings. I presently showed him, however, that I had not yet done
with him. Our table was laid in obedience to my orders at such a
distance from the men that they could not overhear our talk, and
by-and-by I leant over to him.
'M. Fresnoy,' I said, 'you are in danger of forgetting one thing, I
fancy, which it behoves you to remember.'
'What?' he muttered, scarcely deigning to look up at me.
'That you have to do with Gaston de Marsac,' I answered quietly. 'I am
making, as I told you this morning, a last attempt to recruit my
fortunes, and I will let no man--no man, do you understand, M.
Fresnoy?--thwart me and go harmless.'
'Who wishes to thwart you?' he asked impudently.
'You,' I answered unmoved, helping myself, as I spoke, from the roll
of black bread which lay beside me. 'You robbed me this afternoon; I
passed it over. You encouraged those men to be insolent; I passed it
over. But let me tell you this. If you fail me to-night, on the honour
of a gentleman, M. Fresnoy, I will run you through as I would spit a
lark.'
'Will you? But two can play at that game,' he cried, rising nimbly
from his stool. 'Still better six! Don't you think, M. de Marsac, you
had better have waited?'
'I think you had better hear one word more,' I answered coolly,
keeping my seat, 'before you appeal to your fellows there.'
'Well,' he said, still standing, 'what is it?'
'Nay,' I replied, after once more pointing to his stool in vain, 'if
you prefer to take my orders standing, well and good.'
'Your orders?' he shrieked, growing suddenly excited.
'Yes, my orders!' I retorted, rising as suddenly to my feet and
hitching forward my sword. 'My orders, sir,' I repeated fiercely, 'or,
if you dispute my right to command as well as to pay this party, let
us decide the question here and now--you and I, foot to foot, M.
Fresnoy.'
The quarrel flashed up so suddenly, though I had been preparing it all
along, that no one moved. The woman, indeed, fell back to her
children, but the rest looked on open-mouthed. Had they stirred, or
had a moment's hurly-burly heated his blood, I doubt not Fresnoy would
have taken up my challenge, for he did not lack hardihood. But as it
was, face to face with me in the silence, his courage failed him. He
paused, glowering at me uncertainly, and did not speak.
'Well,' I said, 'don't you think that if I pay I ought to give orders,
sir?'
'Who wishes to oppose your orders?' he muttered, drinking off a
bumper, and sitting down with an air of impudent bravado, assumed to
hide his discomfiture.
'If you don't, no one else does,' I answered. 'So that is settled.
Landlord, some more wine.'
He was very sulky with me for a while, fingering his glass in silence
and scowling at the table. He had enough gentility to feel the
humiliation to which he had exposed himself, and a sufficiency of wit
to understand that that moment's hesitation had cost him the
allegiance of his fellow-ruffians. I hastened, therefore, to set him
at his ease by explaining my plans for the night, and presently
succeeded beyond my hopes; for when he heard who the lady was whom I
proposed to carry off, and that she was lying that evening at the
Chateau de Chize, his surprise swept away the last trace of
resentment. He stared at me as at a maniac.
'Mon Dieu!' he exclaimed. 'Do you know what you are doing, Sieur?'
'I think so,' I answered.
'Do you know to whom the chateau belongs?'
'To the Vicomte de Turenne.'
'And that Mademoiselle de la Vire is his relation?'
'Yes,' I said.
'Mon Dieu!' he exclaimed again. And he looked at me open-mouthed.
'What is the matter?' I asked, though I had an uneasy consciousness
that I knew--that I knew very well.
'Man, he will crush you as I crush this hat!' he answered in great
excitement. 'As easily. Who do you think will protect you from him in
a private quarrel of this kind? Navarre? France? our good man? Not one
of them. You had better steal the king's crown jewels--he is weak; or
Guise's last plot--he is generous at times; or Navarre's last
sweetheart--he is as easy as an old shoe. You had better have to do
with all these together, I tell you, than touch Turenne's ewe-lambs,
unless your aim be to be broken on the wheel! Mon Dieu, yes!'
'I am much obliged to you for your advice,' I said stiffly, 'but the
die is cast. My mind is made up. On the other hand, if you are afraid,
M. Fresnoy----'
'I am afraid; very much afraid,' he answered frankly.
'Still your name need not be brought into the matter,' I replied, 'I
will take the responsibility. I will let them know my name here at the
inn, where, doubtless, inquiries will be made.'
'To be sure, that is something,' he answered thoughtfully. 'Well, it
is an ugly business, but I am in for it. You want me to go with you a
little after two, do you? and the others to be in the saddle at three?
Is that it?'
I assented, pleased to find him so far acquiescent; and in this way,
talking the details over more than once, we settled our course,
arranging to fly by way of Poitiers and Tours. Of course I did not
tell him why I selected Blois as our refuge, nor what was my purpose
there; though he pressed me more than once on the point, and grew
thoughtful and somewhat gloomy when I continually evaded it. A little
after eight we retired to the loft to sleep; our men remaining below
round the fire and snoring so merrily as almost to shake the crazy old
building. The host was charged to sit up and call us as soon as the
moon rose, but, as it turned out, I might as well have taken this
office on myself, for between excitement and distrust I slept little,
and was wide awake when I heard his step on the ladder and knew it was
time to rise.
I was up in a moment, and Fresnoy was little behind me; so that,
losing no time in talk, we were mounted and on the road, each with a
spare horse at his knee, before the moon was well above the trees.
Once in the Chase we found it necessary to proceed on foot, but, the
distance being short, we presently emerged without misadventure and
stood opposite to the chateau, the upper part of which shone cold and
white in the moon's rays.
There was something so solemn in the aspect of the place, the night
being fine and the sky without a cloud, that I stood for a minute awed
and impressed, the sense of the responsibility I was here to accept
strong upon me. In that short space of time all the dangers before me,
as well the common risks of the road as the vengeance of Turenne and
the turbulence of my own men, presented themselves to my mind, and
made a last appeal to me to turn back from an enterprise so foolhardy.
The blood in a man's veins runs low and slow at that hour, and mine
was chilled by lack of sleep and the wintry air. It needed the
remembrance of my solitary condition, of my past spent in straits and
failure, of the grey hairs which swept my cheek, of the sword which I
had long used honourably, if with little profit to myself; it needed
the thought of all these things to restore me to courage and myself.
I judged at a later period that my companion was affected in somewhat
the same way; for, as I stooped to press home the pegs which I had
brought to tether the horses, he laid his hand on my arm. Glancing up
to see what he wanted, I was struck by the wild look in his face
(which the moonlight invested with a peculiar mottled pallor), and
particularly in his eyes, which glittered like a madman's. He tried to
speak, but seemed to find a difficulty in doing so; and I had to
question him roughly before he found his tongue. When he did speak, it
was only to implore me in an odd, excited manner to give up the
expedition and return.
'What, now?' I said, surprised. 'Now we are here, Fresnoy?'
'Ay, give it up!' he cried, shaking me almost fiercely by the arm.
'Give it up, man! It will end badly, I tell you! In God's name, give
it up, and go home before worse comes of it.'
'Whatever comes of it,' I answered coldly, shaking his grasp from my
arm, and wondering much at this sudden fit of cowardice, 'I go on.
You, M. Fresnoy, may do as you please!'
He started and drew back from me; but he did not reply, nor did he
speak again. When I presently went off to fetch a ladder, of the
position of which I had made a note during the afternoon, he
accompanied me, and followed me back in the same dull silence to the
walk below the balcony. I had looked more than once and eagerly at
mademoiselle's window without any light or movement in that quarter
rewarding my vigilance; but, undeterred by this, which might mean
either that my plot was known, or that Mademoiselle de la Vire
distrusted me, I set the ladder softly against the balcony, which was
in deep shadow, and paused only to give Fresnoy his last instructions.
These were simply to stand on guard at the foot of the ladder and
defend it in case of surprise; so that, whatever happened inside the
chateau, my retreat by the window might not be cut off.
Then I went cautiously up the ladder, and, with my sheathed sword in
my left hand, stepped over the balustrade. Taking one pace forward,
with fingers outstretched, I felt the leaded panes of the window and
tapped softly.
As softly the casement gave way, and I followed it. A hand which I
could see but not feel was laid on mine. All was darkness in the room,
and before me, but the hand guided me two paces forward, then by a
sudden pressure bade me stand. I heard the sound of a curtain being
drawn behind me, and the next moment the cover of a rushlight was
removed, and a feeble but sufficient light filled the chamber.
I comprehended that the drawing of that curtain over the window had
cut off my retreat as effectually as if a door had been closed behind
me. But distrust and suspicion gave way the next moment to the natural
embarrassment of the man who finds himself in a false position and
knows he can escape from it only by an awkward explanation.
The room in which I found myself was long, narrow, and low in the
ceiling; and being hung with some dark stuff which swallowed up the
light, terminated funereally at the farther end in the still deeper
gloom of an alcove. Two or three huge chests, one bearing the remnants
of a meal, stood against the walls. The middle of the floor was
covered with a strip of coarse matting, on which a small table, a
chair and foot-rest, and a couple of stools had place, with some
smaller articles which lay scattered round a pair of half-filled
saddle-bags. The slighter and smaller of the two figures I had seen
stood beside the table, wearing a mask and riding cloak; and by her
silent manner of gazing at me, as well as by a cold, disdainful
bearing, which neither her mask nor cloak could hide, did more to
chill and discomfit me than even my own knowledge that I had lost the
pass-key which should have admitted me to her confidence.
The stouter figure of the afternoon turned out to be a red-cheeked,
sturdy woman of thirty, with bright black eyes and a manner which lost
nothing of its fierce impatience when she came a little later to
address me. All my ideas of Fanchette were upset by the appearance of
this woman, who, rustic in her speech and ways, seemed more like a
duenna than the waiting-maid of a court beauty, and better fitted to
guard a wayward damsel than to aid her in such an escapade as we had
in hand.
She stood slightly behind her mistress, her coarse red hand resting on
the back of the chair from which mademoiselle had apparently risen on
my entrance. For a few seconds, which seemed minutes to me, we stood
gazing at one another in silence, mademoiselle acknowledging my bow by
a slight movement of the head. Then, seeing that they waited for me to
speak, I did so.
'Mademoiselle de la Vire?' I murmured doubtfully.
She bent her head again; that was all.
I strove to speak with confidence. 'You will pardon me, mademoiselle,'
I said, 'if I seem to be abrupt, but time is everything. The horses
are standing within a hundred yards of the house, and all the
preparations for your night are made. If we leave now, we can do so
without opposition. The delay even of an hour may lead to discovery.'
For answer she laughed behind her mask--laughed coldly and ironically.
'You go too fast, sir,' she said, her low clear voice matching the
laugh and rousing a feeling almost of anger in my heart. 'I do not
know you; or, rather, I know nothing of you which should entitle you
to interfere in my affairs. You are too quick to presume, sir. You say
you come from a friend. From whom?'
'From one whom I am proud to call by that title,' I answered with what
patience I might.
'His name!'
I answered firmly that I could not give it. And I eyed her steadily as
I did so.
This for the moment seemed to baffle and confuse her, but after a
pause she continued: 'Where do you propose to take me, sir?'
'To Blois; to the lodging of a friend of my friend.'
'You speak bravely,' she replied with a faint sneer. 'You have made
some great friends lately it seems! But you bring me some letter, no
doubt; at least some sign, some token, some warranty, that you are the
person you pretend to be, M. de Marsac?'
'The truth is, mademoiselle,' I stammered, 'I must explain. I should
tell you----'
'Nay, sir,' she cried impetuously, 'there is no need of telling. If
you have what I say, show it me! It is you who lose time. Let us have
no more words!'
I had used very few words, and, God knows, was not in the mind to use
many; but, being in the wrong, I had no answer to make except the
truth, and that humbly. 'I had such a token as you mention,
mademoiselle,' I said, 'no farther back than this afternoon, in the
shape of half a gold coin, entrusted to me by my friend. But, to my
shame I say it, it was stolen from me a few hours back.'
'Stolen from you!' she exclaimed.
'Yes, mademoiselle; and for that reason I cannot show it,' I answered.
'You cannot show it? And you dare to come to me without it!' she
cried, speaking with a vehemence which fairly startled me, prepared as
I was for reproaches. 'You come to me! You!' she continued. And with
that, scarcely stopping to take breath, she loaded me with abuse;
calling me impertinent, a meddler, and a hundred other things, which I
now blush to recall, and displaying in all a passion which even in her
attendant would have surprised me, but in one so slight and seemingly
delicate, overwhelmed and confounded me. In fault as I was, I could
not understand the peculiar bitterness she displayed, or the
contemptuous force of her language, and I stared at her in silent
wonder until, of her own accord, she supplied the key to her feelings.
In a fresh outburst of rage she snatched off her mask, and to my
astonishment I saw before me the young maid of honour whom I had
encountered in the King of Navarre's ante-chamber, and whom I had been
so unfortunate as to expose to the raillery of Mathurine.
'Who has paid you, sir,' she continued, clenching her small hands
and speaking with tears of anger in her eyes, 'to make me the
laughing-stock of the Court? It was bad enough when I thought you the
proper agent of those to whom I have a right to look for aid! It was
bad enough when I thought myself forced, through their inconsiderate
choice, to decide between an odious imprisonment and the ridicule to
which your intervention must expose me! But that you should have
dared, of your own notion, to follow me, you, the butt of the
Court----'
'Mademoiselle!' I cried.
'A needy, out-at-elbows adventurer!' she persisted, triumphing in her
cruelty. 'It exceeds all bearing! It is not to be suffered! It----'
'Nay, mademoiselle; you shall hear me!' I cried, with a sternness
which at last stopped her. 'Granted I am poor, I am still a gentleman;
yes, mademoiselle,' I continued, firmly, 'a gentleman, and the last of
a family which has spoken with yours on equal terms. And I claim to be
heard. I swear that when I came here to-night I believed you to be a
perfect stranger! I was unaware that I had ever seen you, unaware that
I had ever met you before.'
'Then why did you come?' she said viciously.
'I was engaged to come by those whom you have mentioned, and there,
and there only am I in fault. They entrusted to me a token which I
have lost. For that I crave your pardon.'
'You have need to,' she answered bitterly, yet with a changed
countenance, or I was mistaken, 'if your story be true, sir.'
'Ay, that you have!' the woman beside her echoed. 'Hoity toity,
indeed! Here is a fuss about nothing. You call yourself a gentleman,
and wear such a doublet as----'
'Peace, Fanchette!' mademoiselle said imperiously. And then for a
moment she stood silent, eyeing me intently, her lips trembling with
excitement and two red spots burning in her cheeks. It was clear from
her dress and other things that she had made up her mind to fly had
the token been forthcoming; and seeing this, and knowing how unwilling
a young girl is to forego her own way, I still had some hopes that she
might not persevere in her distrust and refusal. And so it turned out.
Her manner had changed to one of quiet scorn when she next spoke. 'You
defend yourself skilfully, sir,' she said, drumming with her fingers
on the table and eyeing me steadfastly. 'But can you give me any
reason for the person you name making choice of such a messenger?'
'Yes,' I answered, boldly. 'That he may not be suspected of conniving
at your escape.'
'Oh!' she cried, with a spark of her former passion. 'Then it is to be
put about that Mademoiselle de la Vire had fled from Chize with M. de
Marsac, is it? I thought that!'
'Through the assistance of M. de Marsac,' I retorted, correcting her
coldly. 'It is for you, mademoiselle,' I continued, 'to weigh that
disadvantage against the unpleasantness of remaining here. It only
remains for me to ask you to decide quickly. Time presses, and I have
stayed here too long already.'
The words had barely passed my lips when they received unwelcome
confirmation in the shape of a distant sound--the noisy closing of a
door, which, clanging through the house at such an hour--I judged it
to be after three o'clock--could scarcely mean anything but mischief.
This noise was followed immediately, even while we stood listening
with raised fingers, by other sounds--a muffled cry, and the tramp of
heavy footsteps in a distant passage. Mademoiselle looked at me, and I
at her woman. 'The door!' I muttered. 'Is it locked?'
'And bolted!' Fanchette answered; 'and a great chest set against it.
Let them ramp; they will do no harm for a bit.'
'Then you have still time, mademoiselle,' I whispered, retreating a
step and laying my hand on the curtain before the window. Perhaps I
affected greater coolness than I felt. 'It is not too late. If you
choose to remain, well and good. I cannot help it. If, on the other
hand, you decide to trust yourself to me, I swear, on the honour of a
gentleman, to be worthy of the trust--to serve you truly and protect
you to the last! I can say no more.'
She trembled, looking from me to the door, on which some one had just
begun to knock loudly. That seemed to decide her. Her lips apart, her
eyes full of excitement, she turned hastily to Fanchette.
'Ay, go if you like,' the woman answered doggedly, reading the meaning
of her look. 'There cannot be a greater villain than the one we know
of. But once started, heaven help us, for if he overtakes us we'll pay
dearly for it!'
The girl did not speak herself, but it was enough. The noise at the
door increased each second, and began to be mingled with angry appeals
to Fanchette to open, and with threats in case she delayed. I cut the
matter short by snatching up one of the saddle-bags--the other we left
behind--and flung back the curtain which covered the window. At the
same time the woman dashed out the light--a timely precaution--and
throwing open the casement I stepped on to the balcony, the others
following me closely.
The moon had risen high, and flooding with light the small open space
about the house enabled me to see clearly all round the foot of the
ladder. To my surprise Fresnoy was not at his post, nor was he to be
seen anywhere; but as, at the moment I observed this, an outcry away
to my left, at the rear of the chateau, came to my ears, and announced
that the danger was no longer confined to the interior of the house, I
concluded that he had gone that way to intercept the attack. Without
more, therefore, I began to descend as quickly as I could, my sword
under one arm and the bag under the other.
I was half-way down, and mademoiselle was already stepping on to the
ladder to follow, when I heard footsteps below, and saw him run up,
his sword in his hand.
'Quick, Fresnoy!' I cried. 'To the horses and unfasten them! Quick!'
I slid down the rest of the way, thinking he had gone to do my
bidding. But my feet were scarcely on the ground when a tremendous
blow in the side sent me staggering three paces from the ladder. The
attack was so sudden, so unexpected, that but for the sight of
Fresnoy's scowling face, wild with rage, at my shoulder, and the sound
of his fierce breathing as he strove to release his sword, which had
passed through my saddle-bag, I might never have known who struck the
blow, or how narrow had been my escape.
Fortunately the knowledge did come to me in time, and before he freed
his blade; and it nerved my hand. To draw my blade at such close
quarters was impossible, but, dropping the bag which had saved my
life, I dashed my hilt twice in his face with such violence that he
fell backwards and lay on the turf, a dark stain growing and spreading
on his upturned face.
It was scarcely done before the women reached the foot of the ladder
and stood beside me. 'Quick!' I cried to them, 'or they will be upon
us.' Seizing mademoiselle's hand, just as half-a-dozen men came
running round the corner of the house, I jumped with her down the
haha, and, urging her to her utmost speed, dashed across the open
ground which lay between us and the belt of trees. Once in the shelter
of the latter, where our movements were hidden from view, I had still
to free the horses and mount mademoiselle and her woman, and this in
haste. But my companions' admirable coolness and presence of mind, and
the objection which our pursuers, who did not know our numbers, felt
to leaving the open ground, enabled us to do all with comparative
ease. I sprang on the Cid (it has always been my habit to teach my
horse to stand for me, nor do I know any accomplishment more
serviceable at a pinch), and giving Fresnoy's grey a cut over the
flanks which despatched it ahead, led the way down the ride by which I
had gained the chateau in the afternoon. I knew it to be level and
clear of trees, and the fact that we chose it might throw our pursuers
off the track for a time, by leading them to think we had taken the
south road instead of that through the village.