“You understand me?” he repeated.
“Absolutely, monsieur,” I answered in a rough peasantlike voice.
He turned and walked in a leisurely way through the passage, and
disappeared, telling Gabord to join him in a moment. As he left, Gabord
said to me in a low voice, “Get back to General Wolfe, or wife and life
will both be lost.”
I caught his hand and pressed it, and a minute afterwards I was alone
before Alixe’s door.
An hour later, knowing Alixe to be alone, I tapped on her door and
entered. As I did so she rose from a priedieu where she had been
kneeling. Two candles were burning on the mantel, but the room was much
in shadow.
“What is’t you wish?” she asked, approaching.
I had off my hat; I looked her direct in the eyes and put my fingers on
my lips. She stared painfully for a moment.
“Alixe,” said I.
She gave a gasp, and stood transfixed, as though she had seen a ghost,
and then in an instant she was in my arms, sobs shaking her. “Oh,
Robert! oh my dear, dear husband!” she cried again and again. I calmed
her, and presently she broke into a whirl of questions. I told her of
all I had seen at the cathedral and at the convent, what my plans had
been, and then I waited for her answer. A new feeling took possession of
her. She knew that there was one question at my lips which I dared not
utter. She became very quiet, and a sweet, settled firmness came into
her face.
“Robert,” she said, “you must go back to your army without me. I can not
leave my father now. Save yourself alone, and if--and if you take the
city, and I am alive, then we shall be reunited. If you do not take the
city, then, whether father lives or dies, I will come to you. Of this be
sure, that I shall never live to be the wife of any other man--wife
or aught else. You know me. You know all, you trust me, and, my dear
husband, my own love, we must part once more. Go, go, and save yourself,
keep your life safe for my sake, and may God in heaven, may God--”
Here she broke off and started back from my embrace, staring hard a
moment over my shoulder; then her face became deadly pale, and she fell
back unconscious. Supporting her, I turned round, and there, inside the
door, with his back to it, was Doltaire. There was a devilish smile on
his face, as wicked a look as I ever saw on any man. I laid Alixe down
on a sofa without a word, and faced him again.
“As many coats as Joseph’s coat had colours,” he said. “And for once
disguised as an honest man--well, well!”
“Beast” I hissed, and I whipped out my short sword.
“Not here,” he said, with a malicious laugh. “You forget your manners:
familiarity”--he glanced towards the couch--“has bred--”
“Coward!” I cried. “I will kill you at her feet.”
“Come, then,” he answered, and stepped away from the door, drawing his
sword, “since you will have it here. But if I kill you, as I intend--”
He smiled detestably, and motioned towards the couch, then turned to the
door again as if to lock it. I stepped between, my sword at guard. At
that the door opened. A woman came in quickly, and closed it behind her.
She passed me, and faced Doltaire.
It was Madame Cournal. She was most pale, and there was a peculiar
wildness in her eyes.
“You have deposed Francois Bigot,” she said.
“Stand back, madame; I have business with this fellow,” said Doltaire,
waving his hand.
“My business comes first,” she replied. “You--you dare to depose
Francois Bigot!”
“It needs no daring,” he said nonchalantly.
“You shall put him back in his place.”
“Come to me to-morrow morning, dear madame.”
“I tell you he must be put back, Monsieur Doltaire.”
“Once you called me Tinoir,” he said meaningly.
Without a word she caught from her cloak a dagger and struck him in
the breast, though he threw up his hand and partly diverted the blow.
Without a cry he half swung round, and sank, face forward, against the
couch where Alixe lay.
Raising himself feebly, blindly, he caught her hand and kissed it; then
he fell back.
Stooping beside him, I felt his heart. He was alive. Madame Cournal now
knelt beside him, staring at him as in a kind of dream. I left the room
quickly, and met the Sisters of Mercy in the hall. They had heard the
noise, and were coming to Alixe. I bade them care for her. Passing
rapidly through the corridors, I told a servant of the household what
had occurred, bade him send for Bigot, and then made for my own safety.
Alixe was safe for a time, at least--perhaps forever, thank God!--from
the approaches of Monsieur Doltaire. As I sped through the streets, I
could not help but think of how he had kissed her hand as he fell, and I
knew by this act, at such a time, that in very truth he loved her after
his fashion.
I came soon to the St. John’s Gate, for I had the countersign from
Gabord, and, dressed as I was, I had no difficulty in passing. Outside I
saw a small cavalcade arriving from Beauport way. I drew back and let
it pass me, and then I saw that it was soldiers bearing the Seigneur
Duvarney to the Intendance.
An hour afterwards, having passed the sentries, I stood on a lonely
point of the shore of Lower Town, and, seeing no one near, I slid into
the water. As I did so I heard a challenge behind me, and when I made
no answer there came a shot, another, and another; for it was thought, I
doubt not, that I was a deserter. I was wounded in the shoulder, and had
to swim with one arm; but though boats were put out, I managed to evade
them and to get within hail of our fleet. Challenged there, I answered
with my name. A boat shot out from among the ships, and soon I was
hauled into it by Clark himself; and that night I rested safe upon the
Terror of France.