THE FOUR RASCALS
We rode southward at an easy pace, that mademoiselle might not be made
to suffer from fatigue. Aside from the desirability of our reaching safe
territory, there was no reason for great haste. M. de Varion had not yet
been tried, and the attempt to deliver him from prison need not be made
immediately. Time would be required in which I might form a satisfactory
plan of action in this matter. It would be necessary to employ all my
men in it, and to bring them secretly from Maury by night marches, but I
must not take the first step until the whole design should be complete
in my mind.
I suggested to mademoiselle that we first go to her father's house, in
Fleurier, where she might get such of her belongings as she wished to
take with her. But she desired to take no more along than was already in
the portmanteaus that her boys, Hugo and Pierre, carried with them on
their horses. She had come directly from Bourges with this baggage,
having been visiting an unmarried aunt, in that city, when news of her
father's arrest reached her.
When I questioned her as to her conduct on the reception of that news,
her face clouded, and she showed embarrassment and a wish to avoid the
subject. Nevertheless, she gave me answers, and I finally learned that
her purpose on leaving Bourges had been to seek the governor of the
province, immediately, and petition for her father's release. It was by
accident that she had met M. de la Chatre at the inn, where she had
stopped that her horses might be baited. My persistent, though
deferential, inquiries elicited from her, in a wavering voice, that she
had not previously possessed the governor's acquaintance; that her
entreaties had evoked only the governor's wrathful orders to depart from
the province on pain of sharing her father's fate; and that La Chatre had
refused to allow her even to see her father in his dungeon in the Château
of Fleurier.
Her agitation as she disclosed these things to me became so great that I
presently desisted from pursuing the subject, and sought to restore
brightness to the face of one whose tenderness and youth made her
misfortune ineffably touching.
I found that, with a woman's intelligence, she had a child's
ingenuousness. I had no difficulty in leading her to talk about herself.
Artlessly she communicated to me the salient facts of her life. Her
father, the younger son of a noble family, had passed his days in study
on his little portion of land near Fleurier. Like myself, she had when
very young become motherless. As for her education, her unmarried aunt
had taught her those accomplishments which a woman can best impart, while
her father had instructed her concerning the ancients, the arts, and the
sciences. She had been to Paris but once, and knew nothing of the court.
Most of my conversation with mademoiselle was had while we traversed a
deserted stretch of road, where I could, with safety, ride by her side
and allow Blaise to take my place with the maid, Jeannotte. I could infer
how deeply the good fellow had been smitten with the petite damsel by the
means which he took to impress her in return. Far from showing himself as
the wounded, sighing lover, he swelled to large dimensions, assumed his
most martial frown, and carried himself as a most formidable personage.
He boasted sonorously of his achievements in battle.
"And the scar on your forehead," I heard her say, as she inspected his
visage with a coquettish side glance; "at what battle did you get that?"
His reply was uttered in a voice whose rancorous fierceness must have set
the maid trembling.
"In the battle of the Rue Etienne," he said, "which was fought between
myself and a hell-born Papist, on St. Bartholomew's night, in 1572. From
the next house-roof, I had seen Coligny's body thrown, bleeding, from his
own window into his courtyard, for I was one of those who were with him
when his murderers came, and whom he ordered to flee. I ran from roof to
roof, hoping to reach a house where a number of Huguenots were, that I
might lead them back to avenge the admiral's murder. I dropped to the
street and ran around a corner straight into the arms of one of the
butchers employed by the Duke of Guise that night to decorate the streets
of Paris with the best blood in France. Seeing that I did not wear the
white cross on my arm, he was good enough to give me this red mark on my
forehead. But in those days I was quick at repartee, and I gave him a
similar mark on a similar place. Then I was knocked down from behind, and
when I awoke it was the next day. The dogs had thought me dead. As for
the man who gave me this mark, I have not seen him since, but for
thirteen years I have prayed hard to the bountiful Father in Heaven to
bring us together again some day, and the good God in His infinite
kindness will surely do so!"
Now and then mademoiselle turned in her saddle to look behind. It was
when she did this for the ninth or tenth time that she gave a start, and
her lips parted with a half-uttered ejaculation of alarm. I followed her
look and saw five mounted figures far behind us, on the road. It was
most probable that these were De Berquin, Barbemouche, and the latter's
three ragged comrades. But in this sight I found no reason to be
disturbed. If mademoiselle was the object of De Berquin's quest, I felt
that our party was sufficiently strong to protect her. If he had
abandoned the intention of annoying her with further importunities, and
was merely proceeding to Clochonne in order to act as the governor's spy
against me, there could be no immediate danger in his presence, for he
did not suspect that I was the Sieur de la Tournoire.
"Be assured, mademoiselle," I said, "you have nothing whatever to fear
from M. de Berquin."
"I do not fear for myself," she replied, with a pathetic little smile.
"It cannot be possible that, having seen me only once, he should put
himself to so much trouble merely to inflict his attentions on me."
"Then you never saw him before the meeting at the inn to-day?" I asked,
in surprise.
"Never. When he addressed me and introduced himself, I was surprised that
he should already know my name."
I then recalled that the governor's secretary, Montignac, at one time,
during his talk with De Berquin outside our window, had pointed towards
the inn. Was it, then, of Mlle. de Varion that he had been talking?
Montignac, of course, having witnessed the interview between mademoiselle
and the governor, had learned her name. It must have been he who had
communicated it to De Berquin. Had the subtle secretary entrusted the
unscrupulous cavalier with some commission relative to mademoiselle, as
well as with the task of betraying me? It was in vain that I tried to
find satisfactory answers to these questions.
I asked mademoiselle whether she had ever known Montignac before this
day.
"Never," she answered, with a kind of shudder, which seemed to express
both abhorrence and fear. Again she grew reticent; again the shadow and
the look of confusion appeared on her face. I could make nothing of these
signs. To attempt a solution by interrogating her was only to cause her
pain, and rather than do that I preferred to remain mystified.
Once more mademoiselle cast an uneasy look at the riders in the
distance rearward.
"Ah!" said I, with a smile, "you have no fear for yourself, yet you
continue to look back with an expression that very nearly resembles that
of fright."
"I do not fear for myself," she said, quite artlessly; "it is for you
that I fear. M. de Berquin will surely try to revenge himself for the
humiliation you gave him."
A joyous thrill sent the blood to my cheeks. Without disguising my
feelings, I turned and looked at her. Doubtless the gladness that shone
in my eyes told her what was in my heart. Realizing that her frank and
gentle demonstration of solicitude was a confession to be received with
ineffable delight by the man to whom it was tendered, she dropped her
eyes and a deep blush overspread her face. For some time no word passed
between us; enough had been said. I knew that the look in my eyes had
told more, a thousand times, than all the extravagant compliments with
which I had, half banteringly, deluged her at the inn.
We might, by hard riding, have reached Maury on the night of that day,
but mademoiselle's comfort was to be considered, and, moreover, I desired
to throw De Berquin off our track before going to our hiding-place.
Therefore, when Clochonne was yet some leagues before us, we turned into
a by-way, and stopped at an obscure inn at the end of a small village.
This hostelry was a mere hut, consisting of a kitchen and one other
apartment, and was kept by an old couple as stupid and avaricious as any
of their class. The whole place, such as it was, was at our disposal. The
one private room was given over to mademoiselle and Jeannotte for the
night, it being decided that I and Blaise should share the kitchen with
the inn-keeper and his wife, while the two boys should sleep in an outer
shed with the horses.
Roused from sluggishness by the sight of a gold piece, which Blaise
displayed, the old couple succeeded in getting for us a passable supper,
which we had served to us on the end of an old wine-butt outside the inn,
as the kitchen was intolerably smoky.
"A poor place, mademoiselle," said I, ashamed of having conducted so
delicate a creature to this miserable hovel.
"What would you have?" she replied, with a pretty attempt to cover her
dejection by a show of cheerfulness. "One cannot flee, for one's liberty,
through the forest, and live in a château at the same time."
As for the others, hunger and fatigue made any fare and shelter welcome.
Blaise, in particular, found the wine acceptable. Conscious of the
glances of Jeannotte, now flashing, now demure, he strove to outdo
himself in one of his happiest accomplishments, that of drinking. The two
boys, Hugo and Pierre, emulated his achievements, and only the presence
of mademoiselle deterred our party from becoming a noisy one.
Blaise became more and more exuberant as he made the wine flow the more
generously. Seeing a way of diverting mademoiselle from her sad thoughts,
I set him to telling of the things he had done in battle when controlled
by the sanguinary spirit of his father. He had a manner of narrating
these deeds of slaughter, which took all the horror out of them, and made
them rather comical than of any other description. He soon had
mademoiselle smiling, the maid laughing, and the two boys looking on him
with open-eyed admiration. Finding Jeannotte and the boys so well
entertained, mademoiselle allowed them to remain with Blaise when she
retired to her room.
I followed her to the inn door, and bade her rest without fear, assuring
her that I would die ere the least harm should befall her.
"Nay," she answered smiling, "I would endure much harm rather than buy
security at such a price."
For an instant her smooth and delicate fingers lay in mine. Then they
were swiftly withdrawn, and she passed in, while I stood outside to muse,
in the gathering dusk, upon the great change that had come over the world
since my first meeting with her, six hours before. The very stars and sky
seemed to smile upon me; the moonlight seemed to shine for me consciously
with a greater softness; the very smell of the earth and grass and trees
had grown sweeter to me. I thought how barren, though I had not known it,
the world had been before this transformation, and how unendurable to me
would be a return of that barrenness.
I rejoined the now somewhat boisterous party at the wine-butt in time to
catch Blaise making an attempt to kiss Jeannotte, who was maintaining a
fair pretence of resistance. She seemed rather displeased at my return,
for as Blaise, unabashedly, continued his efforts, she was compelled, in
order to make her coyness seem real to me, to break from him, and flee
into the inn.
Blaise, in whom the spirit of his father was now manifestly gaming the
ascendancy, consoled himself for the absence of Jeannotte by drinking
more heroically and betaking to song. The boys labored assiduously to
keep him company. Finally the stalwart fellow, Hugo, succumbed to the
effects of the wine, and staggered off to the shed. Pierre followed him a
few minutes later, and Blaise was left alone with the remains of the
wine. The landlord and his wife had retired to rest, on their pallets on
the kitchen floor, some time before. Blaise sat on a log, singing to
himself and cursing imaginary enemies, until all the wine at hand was
exhausted. Then he let me lead him into the kitchen, where he immediately
dropped to the floor, rolled over on his back, and began snoring with the
vigor that characterized all his vocal manifestations.
Making a pillow of my cloak, I lay down beside him, and tried to sleep;
but the stale air of the kitchen, the new thoughts to which my mind clung
with delight, the puzzling questions that sought to displace those
thoughts, and the tremendous snoring of both the landlord and his wife,
as well as of Blaise, made slumber impossible to me. I therefore rose,
and went out of the inn. At a short distance away was a smooth, grassy
knoll, now bathed in moonlight. I decided to make this my couch. I had
proceeded only a few steps from the inn when the silence of the early
night was disturbed by the sound of footsteps on the crisp, fallen leaves
in the woods close at hand.
The smallness of the village and the obscurity of the locality gave
importance to every sound, proceeding from a human source, at this hour.
I, therefore, dropped behind the thick stump of a tree, where I might see
and hear without being observed. Presently a figure emerged from the edge
of the wood and moved cautiously towards the inn. It stopped, made a
gesture towards the wood, and then continued its course. Three more
figures then came out of the wood, one very tall, one exceedingly broad,
and the third extremely thin. They came on with great caution, and
finally joined the first comer near the inn. By this time I had
recognized the leader as my old friend, Barbemouche. The others were his
companions.
I awaited their further proceedings with curiosity. Was it in quest of
us, at the behest of De Berquin, that they had come hither so cautiously
and without their horses? Very probably. Doubtless, from afar, they had
seen us turn into the byway which, as one or more of them perhaps knew,
led to this inn and to no other. It was not likely that, having certainly
made some bargain with De Berquin, and being moneyless, they had quitted
his service so soon. Yet, if they were now carrying out orders of his
against mademoiselle or against me, the supposed lackey who had incurred
his wrath, why was he not with them? I hoped soon to see these questions
answered by the doings of the rascals themselves.
The fat ruffian sank down, with a heavy sigh of relief, on the log where
Blaise had sat. He pulled down with him the thin fellow, who had been
clutching his arm as if for support. The latter had a wavy, yellow beard,
a feminine manner, and a dandified air, as if he might once have been a
fop at the court before descending to the rags which now covered him. The
fat hireling had a face on which both good nature and pugnacity were
depicted. At present he was puffing from his exertions afoot. The most
striking figure of the group was that of the tall rascal. He was gaunt,
angular and erect, throwing out his chest, and wearing a solemn and
meditative mien upon his weather-beaten face. This visage, long enough in
its frame-work, was further extended by a great, pointed beard. There was
something of grandeur about this cadaverous, frowning, Spanish-looking
wreck of a warrior, as he stood thoughtfully leaning upon a huge
two-handed sword, which he had doubtless obtained in the pillage of some
old armory.
"The place seems closed as tight as the gates of Heaven to a heretic,"
growled Barbemouche, scrutinizing the inn.
The tall fellow here awoke from his reverie, and spoke in solemn,
deliberate tones:
"Would it not be well to wake up the landlord and try his wine?"
"Wake up the devil!" cried Barbemouche angrily. "Nobody is to be waked
up. We are simply to find out whether they are here, and then go back to
the Captain. Your unquenchable thirst will take you to hell before your
time, François."
"It is astonishing," put in the fat fellow, looking at the tall, lean
François, "how so few gallons of body can hold so many gallons of wine."
"Would I had your body to fill with wine, Antoine," said François,
longingly; and then, casting an unhappy look at the inn, he added, "and
the wine to fill it with."
"What are you shaking for, Jacques?" asked fat Antoine of his slim
comrade at his side. "One would think you were afraid. Haven't you told
us that love of fighting was the one passion of your life?"
"Death of the devil, so it is!" replied Jacques in a soft voice, and
with a lisp worthy of one of the King's painted minions. "That is what
annoys me, for if this insignificant matter should come to a fight, and I
should accidentally be killed in so obscure an affair, how could I ever
again indulge my passion for fighting?"
Meanwhile, Barbemouche had gone to the door and cautiously opened it, no
one having barred it after my departure from the kitchen. I could hear
the sound of Blaise's superb snoring, mingled with the less resonant
efforts of the old couple. Barbemouche surveyed as much of the kitchen as
the moonlight disclosed to him. Then he quietly shut the door and turned
to his fellows.
"It is well," he said. "The gentleman himself is snoring his lungs away
just inside the door. There is another room, and it is there that the
women must be. The others are probably in the shed. Let us go quietly, as
it would not be polite to disturb their sleep."
Whereupon Barbemouche led the way back to the woods, followed by fat
Antoine, who toiled puffingly, Jacques, who stepped daintily and seemed
fearful of treading on stones and briars, and last of all François, who
moved at a measured pace, with long strides, retaining his air of
profound meditation. The sound of the crushing of leaves beneath their
feet became more distant, and finally died out entirely.
In vain I asked myself the meaning of this strange investigation.
Manifestly the present object of De Berquin was nothing more than to keep
himself informed of our whereabouts. But why had he sent all four of his
henchmen to find out whether we were at this inn, when one would have
sufficed? I abandoned the attempt to deduce what his exact intentions
were. Drowsiness now coming over me, and the night air having grown
colder, I repaired to the shed for the purpose of obtaining there the
repose that had been denied me in the kitchen. I was satisfied in mind
that whatever blow De Berquin intended to strike for the possession of
mademoiselle, or for revenge upon myself, would be attempted at a time
and place more convenient to him. Knowing that my slumbers invariably
yielded to any unusual noise, I allowed myself to fall asleep on a pile
of straw in the shed.
I know not how long I had slept, when I suddenly awoke with a start and
sat upright. What noise had invaded my sleep, I could not, at that
moment, tell. The place was then perfectly quiet, save for the regular
breathing of the two boys, and an occasional movement of one of the
horses. The shed was still entirely dark, excepting where a thin slice of
moonlight entered at a crack. I sat still, listening.
Presently a low sound struck my ear, something between a growl and a
groan. I quickly arose, left the shed, and ran to a clump of bushes at
the side of the inn, whence the sound proceeded. Separating the bushes I
saw, lying prone on the ground among them, the stalwart body of Blaise.
"What is the matter?" I cried. "Speak! Are you wounded?"
The only reply was a kind of muffled roar. Looking closer, I saw that
Blaise's mouth and head were tightly bound by the detached sleeve of a
doublet, and this had deterred him from articulating. I saw, also,
that his legs had been tied together, and his hands fastened behind
him with a rope.
I rapidly released his legs, and he stood up. Then I undid his hands,
and he stretched out his arms with relief. Finally I unbound his mouth
and he spoke:
"Oh, the whelps of hell! To fall on a man when he is sleeping off his
wine, and tie him up like a trussed fowl! I will have the blood of every
cursed knave of them! And the maid! Grandmother of the devil! They have
taken the maid! Come, monsieur, let us cut them into pieces, and save
the maid!"
But I held him back, and cried: "And mademoiselle, what of her? Speak,
you drunken dog! Have you let her be harmed?"
"She is perfectly safe," he answered, in his turn holding me back from
rushing to the inn. "I do not think that she was even awakened. What
use to let her know what has happened? If we rescue the maid and the
maid will hold her tongue, mademoiselle will never know what danger she
has escaped."
"Or what vigilant protectors she has had to guard her sleep," I said,
with bitter self-reproach, no longer daring to blame Blaise for a laxity
of which I had been equally guilty. "You are right," I went on, "she must
know nothing. Now tell me at once exactly what has occurred."
Blaise would rather have looked for his sword, and started off
immediately to the rescue of the maid, but I made him stand with me in
the shadow of the inn and relate.
"From the time when I fell asleep on the kitchen floor," he said, "I knew
nothing until a little while ago, when I awoke, and found myself still
where I had lain down, but tied up as you found me yonder. Four curs of
hell were lifting me to carry me out. I tried to strike, but the deep
sleep, induced by that cursed wine, had allowed them to tie me up as
neatly as if I had been a dead deer. Neither could I speak, though I
tried hard enough to curse, you may be sure. So they brought me out, and
laid me down there by the inn-door. 'Would it not be best to stick a
sword into him?' said one of the rascals, a soft speaking, womanish pup.
A hungry-looking giant put the point of an old two-handed sword at my
breast, as if to carry out the suggestion; but a heavy, black-bearded
scoundrel, whose voice I think I have heard before, pushed the sword away
and said: 'No, the captain has a quarrel to adjust with him in person. We
are to concern ourselves entirely with the lady. Lay him yonder.' So they
carried me over to the bushes. 'And now for the others,' said the giant.
'Why lose time over them?' said the burly fellow, who seemed to be the
leader; 'they are sleeping like pigs in the shed. Come! We can do the
business without waking them up.'
"So they left me lying on the ground and went into the inn again, very
quietly. They must have gone, without waking the landlord or his wife,
into the room of mademoiselle and her maid. Presently they came out
again, carrying the maid. When they had gone about half way to the woods,
they stopped and set her on her feet. So far, I suppose, it was the wine
that kept her asleep; but now she awoke, and I could see her looking
around, very scared, from one to the other of the four rascals. Then she
gave a scream. At that instant, there came rushing from the woods, with
his sword drawn, your friend, the Vicomte de Berquin. 'Stand off,
rascals!' he shouted, as he ran up to them. They drew their weapons, and
made a weak pretense of resisting him; then, when each one had exchanged
a thrust with him, they all turned tail, and made off into the woods.
"M. de Berquin now turned to the maid, who had fallen to her knees in
fright. Taking her hand, he said, 'Mademoiselle, I thank Heaven I arrived
in time to give you the aid your own escort failed to afford. Perhaps now
you will be the less unwilling to accept my protection!'--the maid now
looked up at him, and he got a good view of her face. He started back as
if hell had opened before him, threw her hand from his, turned towards
the woods, and shouted to the four rascals, 'You whelps of the devil, you
have made a mistake and brought the maid!' He was about to follow them,
when it probably occurred to him that if left free the maid would
disclose his little project; for he stood thinking a moment, then grasped
the frightened maid by the wrist, and ran off into the woods, dragging
her after him. All this I saw through an opening in the bushes while I
lay helpless and speechless. By industriously working my jaw, I at last
succeeded in making my mouth sufficiently free to produce the sounds
which brought you to me. Now, monsieur, let us hasten after the maid, for
mademoiselle will be vastly annoyed to lose her precious Jeannotte."
I saw that Blaise knew with what argument I was quickest to be moved.
"Blaise," I said, "do not pretend that it is only for mademoiselle's
sake that you are concerned. In your anxiety about the maid, you forget
the danger in which mademoiselle still lies, and which requires me to
remain here. When the ingenious De Berquin learns, from his four
henchmen, that mademoiselle was not awakened, he will certainly repeat
his attempt. He thinks to win her favor by appearing to be her rescuer
from these four pretended assailants, and, at the same time, to make us
seem unworthy to protect her. He does not know that she has seen the four
rascals in his company. He wishes to work with his own hand his revenge
upon us, and so he has let us live. I see the way to make him so
ridiculous in the eyes of mademoiselle that he will never dare show his
face to her again."
"But the maid!" persisted Blaise.
"They will doubtless secure her somewhere in the woods, and return here
to enact, with mademoiselle herself, the sham rescue which they
mistakenly carried out with the maid. Go and seek your precious
Jeannotte, if you please, but do not let them discover you. Wait until
they leave her before you try to release her."
Blaise was quick to avail himself of this conditional commission. He went
with me into the kitchen, where the old couple were sleeping as noisily
as ever, and found his sword where he had laid it before supper. The
door to mademoiselle's room was ajar. Standing at the threshold, I could
hear her breathing peacefully, unaware of the peril from which, by a
blunder, she had been saved. Through the small window of the room came a
bar of moonlight which lighted up her face. It was a face pale, sad,
innocent,--the face of a girl transformed, in an instant, to womanhood
by a single grief.
Leaving her door as I had found it, I went from the inn to the shed,
still wearing my sword, which I had put on in first leaving the kitchen
after my futile attempt to sleep. Blaise was already making rapidly for
the woods.
I quietly awoke Hugo and Pierre, and bade them put on their weapons and
remain ready to respond to my call. I then posted myself again behind the
tree stump near the inn door and awaited occurrences.
By this time clouds had arisen, and the moonlight was frequently
obscured. I had waited about half an hour, when, again, the sound of
breaking leaves and sticks warned me that living beings were
approaching through the woods. At last I made out the four figures of
De Berquin's hirelings as they cautiously paused at the edge of the
open space. Apparently assured by the silence that their presence was
unsuspected, they came on to the inn. In a moment of moonlight, I
perceived, also, the figure of De Berquin, who stood at the border of
the woods watching the proceedings of his varlets. Even as I looked, he
withdrew into the shadow. At the same time a heavy mass of cloud cast
darkness over the place.
But I could descry the black forms of the four rascals huddled together
at the door of the inn, which the foremost cautiously opened. A moment
later they had all entered the kitchen.
I glided rapidly through the darkness after them, and took my stand just
within the door, where any one attempting to pass out must encounter me.
The four rascals were now at the inner door leading to the room of
mademoiselle.
"Stand off, rascals!" I cried, assuming the tone of De Berquin. In
the same moment, I gently punctured the back of the nearest rascal
with my sword.
Surprised at what they took for the premature advent of their master, the
fellows turned and stood for a moment undecided. But, by thrusting my
sword among them, I enabled them to make up their minds. They could but
blindly obey their instructions, and so they came towards me with a
feeble pretense of attack. In the darkness it was impossible for them to
make out my features. I met their sham assault with much greater vigor
than De Berquin had led them to expect from him. This they might have
been moved to resist, in earnest, but for the fear of losing their pay,
which De Berquin, in order to secure himself against treachery on their
part, would certainly have represented as being, not on his person, but
somewhere awaiting his call. Thus deterred from making a sufficient
defence against my sword-play, and as mademoiselle, awakened by the
noise, had hastened to her door and was looking on, the four adventurers
soon considered that their pretense of battle had lasted long enough. A
howl of pain from Barbemouche, evoked by a wound in the groin, was the
signal for their general flight. As I still stood in the doorway to bar
all exit there, they sought other ways of egress. The slim Jacques ran
past mademoiselle into her room and bolted through the window.
Barbemouche managed to go through the rear window of the kitchen, and the
fat Antoine tried to follow him, but succeeded only as to his head, arms,
and shoulders. Squeezed tightly into the opening, he remained an
irresistible temptation to the point of my sword, and at every thrust he
beat the air with his legs, and shrieked piteously. The tall François, in
attempting to reach this window at one stride, had stumbled against the
bodies of the terrified innkeeper and his wife, and he now labored,
vainly, to release his leg from the grasp of the old woman, who clung to
it with the strength of desperation.
I took mademoiselle by the hand and led her out into the air. Here we
were joined by Hugo and Pierre, who had run around from the shed at the
noise. I was just about to answer her look of bewilderment and inquiry,
when there came a loud cry:
"Stand off, rascals!"
And on rushed De Berquin from the woods, making a great flourish with his
sword as he came. In the darkness, seeing mademoiselle standing with
three men, one of whom had led her rapidly from the inn, the inventive
Vicomte had taken us three for his own zealous henchmen.
And so he came, like some giant-slaying chevalier of the old days,
crying again: "Stand off, rascals!" and adding, "You hounds, release
this lady!"
"Fear not for the lady; her friends are here!" I said, motioning Hugo and
Pierre aside and stepping forward with mademoiselle, my drawn sword in my
right hand.
The moon reappeared, and showed De Berquin standing with open mouth, as
if turned to stone. In a moment this astonishment passed.
"Thousand devils!" he cried. "The cursed lackey!"
And he made a wrathful thrust at me, but I disarmed him now as neatly as
at the inn. Thereupon, he picked up his sword and made rapidly off to the
woods. Turning towards the inn, I saw the tall fellow and his fat
comrade leaving it, the former bearing his huge sword on his shoulder.
They avoided us by a detour, and followed De Berquin. The two who had
escaped by windows had, doubtless, already reached the protection of the
trees. I began to explain to mademoiselle, and was asking myself how best
to account for the absence of Jeannotte, when I saw Blaise coming from
the woods, bearing the maid in his arms. To prevent her from returning to
the inn, De Berquin had caused Barbemouche to bind her to a tree. When
her captors had departed to make a second attempt against mademoiselle,
the maid had set up a moaning, and this had guided Blaise to her side.
It was now impossible to conceal any of the night's events from
mademoiselle, but she, far from blaming our lack of vigilance, feigned to
think herself indebted to us for a second rescue from the attentions of
her persecutor. During the rest of that night her slumbers were more
faithfully guarded, although they were not threatened again.