THE HAND OF BABETTE
I lay for a time where I had been flung, overwhelmed by the disaster.
Then a frenzy came on me, and, but for the gag in my mouth, I could
have screamed out curses on my folly in allowing myself to be trapped
like a wild cat. Now that I think of it, in the madness of those
moments I did not pray to the God who had so often and so repeatedly
helped me; yet in His mercy and goodness I was freed from my straits,
as will be shown hereafter.
In the meantime I was so securely bound that it was all but impossible
to move, and the bandage over my eyes prevented me from seeing
anything. I writhed and twisted like a serpent on the wet flags where
I lay, and in the violence of my struggles gradually moved the
bandages, so that my eyes were at last set free, and then, exhausted
by my efforts and half-choked by the gag, I became still once more,
and looked around me. For all I could see I might have been as
before--I was in blank, absolute darkness. Into the void I peered, but
could make out nothing, though I could hear my own laboured breathing,
and the melancholy drip, drip of water as it oozed from above me and
fell in sullen drops on the slime below.
As I strained into the velvet black of the darkness, it came to
me--some fiend must have whispered it--that I was blind. My mind
almost ceased to work at the thought, and I remained in a kind of
torpor, trying in a weak manner to mentally count the drops of water
by the dull splashing sound they made in falling. Ages seemed to pass
as I lay there, and the first sense of coming to myself was the
thought of Claude, whom I had lost, and the quick agony of this made
my other sufferings seem as nothing. There is a misery that words, at
least such words as I am master of, cannot picture, and I will
therefore say no more of this.
A little thing, however, now happened, and but for this I might have
lain where I was until I died, so entirely impressed was I with the
idea that I was sightless. In utter weariness I turned my head on one
side and saw two small beads of fire twinkling about a yard or so from
me. They were as small as the far-away stars, and they stared at me
fixedly. 'This is some deception of the mind,' I thought to myself,
when suddenly another pair of fiery eyes appeared; then there was a
slight shuffling, and all was still. But it was the saving of me.
Sight and hearing could not both deceive. I knew what they were, and I
knew, too, that I was not blind. From that moment I began to regain
possession of my faculties and to think of means of escape. In my vest
pocket was a small clasp knife. If I could but get at that I could
free myself from my bonds. That, at any rate, had to be the first
step. I began to slowly move my arms up and down with a view to
loosening the cords that bound me, but, after some time spent in this
exercise, realised the fact that the ropes might cut through me, but
that they would not loosen. Then it struck me, in my eagerness to be
free, that I might get at the knots with my teeth, and by a mighty
effort I raised myself to a sitting posture--only to remember that I
was gagged, and that it was of no avail to think of this plan. There
are those who will smile, perhaps, if their eyes meet this, and put me
down in their estimation for a fool for my forgetfulness. That may or
may not be, but I have written down exactly what happened.
Although the new position I had attained did not in any way advance me
towards freedom, yet it gave me a sense of personal relief. I was able
to raise my knees a little, and sitting down thus, with my body thrown
a little forward, to ease the strain of the cords, I began to think
and go over in my mind the whole scene of the tragedy from the
beginning to its bitter end. I had no doubt as to the personality of
Babette. I was not likely to forget her voice. I had heard it under
circumstances that ought to have stamped it on my memory for all time,
and if I had the faintest doubts on the matter, they were set at rest
by the fact that she was so well known to de Gomeron--she probably had
been a camp-follower on our side--and also by the still more damning
fact that her house was known as the Toison d'Or. The name had been
distinctly mentioned by her, and its meaning was clear to me when I
thought of the dreadful scene over de Leyva's body.
As for de Gomeron, I knew him well enough to understand his game. The
whole affair, as far as he was concerned, was a sudden and rapid
resolve--that was clear. I argued it out in this way to myself, and,
as I went on thinking, it was almost as if someone was reading out a
statement of the case to me. It was evident that the free-lance was to
the last moment in hopes that the King would yield to Biron's
intercession on his behalf. When that was refused he may have had some
idea of gaining his end by force, but was compelled to hurry his
_coup_ by the knowledge that he had obtained from his confederate or
spy, Ravaillac.
It had worked out well enough for him. My disappearance, my dead
horse--poor Couronne!--all these would point to me as the author of
the abduction, and give de Gomeron the time he wanted to perfect his
plans. The man I had run through would never tell tales, and, so far,
the game lay in the Camarguer's hands.
And then about Madame. As I became calmer I saw that for his own sake
de Gomeron would take care that her life was safe--at any rate for the
present, and whilst there was this contingency there was hope for her,
if none for me, as I felt sure that, what with the King and Madame's
relatives of the Tremouille on one hand, and Sully and de Belin on the
other, things would go hard, sooner or later, with de Gomeron,
whatever happened to me.
By the time my thoughts had reached this point I was myself again, and
the certainty with which I was possessed that Claude was in no
immediate danger of her life gave me strength to cast about for my own
liberation as the first step towards freeing her.
But my despair almost returned as I thought and thought, until my
brain seemed on fire, without my efforts bringing me a ray of hope. I
shuddered as I reflected that it was part of de Gomeron's scheme to
let me die here. It could easily be done, and a few bricks against the
wall would remove all traces of the living grave of d'Auriac. In my
mental excitement I seemed to be able to project my soul outside my
prison, and to see and hear all that my enemy was plotting.
I do not for a moment say I was right in every detail, but events
showed that I was not far wrong; and it is a wonder to me that the
learned men of our day have not dealt with this question of the mind,
though, to be sure, it savours no little of those secrets which the
Almighty in His wisdom has concealed from us, an inquiry into which is
perhaps a sin--perhaps in some future time these things may be
disclosed to us! Whether I am right or wrong, I know not. I have,
however, set down faithfully what passed through my mind in those
hours of agony.
Was I never to see the light again? Never to hear another human voice?
Was I to come to my death in a long-drawn-out agony? Dear God, then,
in mercy, strike me dead! So I prayed in my utter desolation; but
death did not come, though its mantle of darkness was around me.
Hour after hour passed. I shifted my position, and, strange to say,
slept. How long I slept I know not; but I woke stinging with pain, and
found this was due to my being bound as I was, and in a little the
agony became almost insupportable; and I was on the verge of going
into a delirium, only righting my failing senses by a mighty effort of
will.
I had lost all count of the time, but guessed it was advanced in the
day by this; and my eyes had become so accustomed to the darkness that
I could manage to see the faint outlines of the cell in which I was
imprisoned. I tried to make out its extent with an idle and useless
curiosity, and then, giving it up and utterly hopeless, leaned my head
on my upraised knees, and sat thus waiting for the end.
I longed for death to come now--it would be a happy release from my
pain.
Suddenly there came a grating noise as the bolts outside were moved.
Then the door of the cell swung open with a groaning, and there was a
blinding flash of light that, for the time being, deprived me of the
powers of sight, though, with a natural instinct, I shut my eyes to
the flash as it came.
Then I heard de Gomeron's voice saying, 'Remove the gag--I have
something to ask Monsieur.'
As I felt two cold, hard hands fumbling with the knots of the gag, I
managed to open my eyes, though the light still pained me, and saw the
tall figure of the free-lance, his drawn sword in his hand, standing
in the open doorway, and kneeling beside me was Babette. The hag
caught the loathing in my glance, and laughed to herself as she
wrenched at the knots, and de Gomeron, who was evidently in no mood to
delay, hurried her efforts with a sharp 'Quick!'
'It is done,' she answered, and rose to her feet, swinging the silken
bands of the gag she held in her hand.
'Then have the goodness to step back whilst Monsieur d'Auriac and I
discuss the position.'
Babette did as she was bidden, muttering something, and de Gomeron,
advancing a pace, addressed me--
'Monsieur, I have come to make you an offer, and I will not waste
words. I am playing to win a desperate game, and I shall not hesitate
to play any card to win. My offer is this. I ask you to sign a formal
document, which I shall bring to you, holding me guiltless of any
design against either you or Madame de la Bidache. In return I will
set you free in ten days after you sign this paper. During that time
you must consider yourself my prisoner; but you will be better lodged
than now. Should you refuse to accept this offer, there is nothing
left for me but to leave you here to die.'
He spoke in slow, measured accents, and the vault of the roof above me
gave back the man's words in a solemn echo. The light of the lantern
stretched in a long yellow shaft up the spiral stairway beyond the
door, and, half in this light and half in shadow, stood the witch-like
figure of Babette, leaning a little forward as if striving to catch
each word that was spoken.
In the silence that followed the free-lance's speech I could almost
hear the blood throbbing in my temples; and for the moment I was
deprived of all power of words. It was not from fear, nor from any
idea of accepting the offer, but a thought had come to my mind. I
would oppose craft with craft, and meet the fox in the skin of a fox.
'Give me twenty-four hours to decide,' I answered, 'and free me from
these cords. I cannot think for the pain of them.'
'_Pardieu!_' he laughed. 'The knots have been well tied; but
twenty-four hours is a long time.'
'Yet you are willing to accommodate me for ten days, better lodged.
_Ventrebleu!_ M. de Gomeron! Do you think I can scratch my way out of
this?'
He did not answer me, but stood for a while biting at the ends of his
thick moustache. Then he suddenly called to Babette, 'Cut the cords.'
She came forward and obeyed. Words cannot convey the sensation of
relief as the cords fell from me, but for the time being so numbed was
I that I was powerless to move.
'You have your desire, monsieur,' said de Gomeron, 'and I await your
decision. It will save me trouble if you inform Babette whether you
agree or not. In the former event we shall have the pleasure of
meeting again; in the latter case I take the opportunity of wishing
you as happy a time as a man may have--in the future life. In the
meantime I will see that some refreshments are sent to you. _Adieu!_'
He turned and stepped out of the cell and stood for a moment whilst
Babette picked up the lantern and followed him.
'Monsieur will not want the light to aid him to think,' she laughed,
and then the door was shut. I heard the sullen clank of the chain, the
turning of the great keys, and I was alone and in darkness once more.
Dark it may have been, but, thank God! I was no longer like a trussed
fowl, and betook myself to rubbing my numbed limbs until finally the
chilled blood was warmed and I was able to stand, and then, in a
little, I gained strength to grope my way backwards and forwards in
the cell as an exercise. No thought of ever agreeing to de Gomeron's
terms ever crossed me. I had, however, resolved to make a dash for
freedom when he came to me again. I should pretend to agree, and then
win or lose all in the rush. Anyway, I would not die here like a rat
in a trap. I almost chuckled to myself as I thought I was in a fair
way to outwit the free-lance. He was a fool after all, though, at the
same time, I could not but admit that his move to get me to admit his
innocence was a skilful one. Still, it was a plot that might overreach
itself. My captors had eased me of my belt, which was so well stuffed
with pistoles. They had not, however, had time or opportunity to
search me further, and had left my clasp-knife, which lay in my
pocket, as I have said, together with a dozen or so of gold pieces I
had kept there to be at hand. I pulled out the knife and, opening it,
ran my fingers along the blade. It was three inches or so in length,
but sharp as a razor, and with it one might inflict an ugly wound in a
struggle. I mapped out my plan mentally. When de Gomeron came again I
should fell him as he entered, arm myself, if possible, by snatching
his sword, and then cut my way out or be cut down. I had no doubt that
I might be able to effect the first part of the programme. In those
days I was as strong as a bull, and there were few men, especially if
they were unprepared, who could have stood a blow from me. It was in
act two that I might come to grief. At any rate, it would be a final
and quick ending to the business, not the long-drawn-out agony I would
otherwise have to endure. Now that I think of it, it was a poor enough
plan, and it was lucky that, under Providence, another way was shown
to me. Such as it was, however, it was the only thing that occurred to
me at that time, and it would not be for want of effort on my part
that it would fail. The more I thought over it, then the more I was
convinced that it was my sole chance, and I grew impatient for the
moment when I should put my design into execution. Twenty-four hours
was long to wait, and I raved at myself for having fixed such a time.
_Morbleu!_ I might have had the sense to make it five, or three, or
two hours! I little guessed, as I paced the cell impatiently, how many
hours had passed since de Gomeron left me, and that it was impossible
to measure time in that loathsome dungeon. As I sat brooding, the
profound silence was once more suddenly disturbed by the sudden
jarring of a bolt. It was not, however, the door of my cell that was
opened, but a little wicket about a foot square, and through this
there flashed again a blinding light, and the face of Babette peered
in. So malign was its aspect that I shuddered in spite of myself, and
then, in a fury I could not control, shouted out:
'Out of my presence, hag! Begone!'
'Oh! ho!' she laughed. 'A time will come when Monsieur will go on his
two knees and pray to Babette--to good Babette--to kind Babette! In a
day or so it will be thus,' and she laughed shrilly. 'But I go as you
wish, to carry your refusal to the Captain.'
She made a movement as if to go, but, cursing myself at very nearly
having spoilt all, I burst out, 'Stay!' and she looked back.
'Monsieur!' She grinned through the wicket.
'See here,' and in my eagerness my voice was hoarse and thick; 'five
hundred crowns if you free me from this, and a thousand more if you
will do the same for Madame.'
'Will Monsieur add a palace in the moon to this?'
'I give you the word of d'Auriac. Fifteen hundred crowns is a fortune.
They will be yours in six hours from the time you free us. Think of
it--fifteen hundred crowns!'
Never have I seen avarice blaze so in a face as in hers. As I dropped
out the last words, she shook her head from side to side with a
swaying motion of a serpent. Her eyes glittered like those of an asp,
and between her half-parted lips she hissed rather than spoke to
herself:
'Fif-teen hun-dred crowns! It is the price of a barony! I, who have
taken life for a half-pistole!'
'You will save two lives for this,' I pleaded.
But the she-devil, though sorely tempted, was faithful. What de
Gomeron's power over her was I know not. I could add nothing to my
offer; I had laid my all on the hazard, and it was not to be done.
'_Pouf!_' she mocked, 'you do not go high enough. You do not promise
the palace in the moon. But I waste my time. Is it "Yes," or "No," for
the Captain?'
There was another chance, and I would risk that. I made a step nearer
the opening.
'Give me something to drink, and I will answer at once.'
'Ah! ha! Monsieur requires some courage. Here is a flask of
Frontignac, but it is expensive, and Monsieur, I am afraid, has left
his belt outside his room. The Frontignac is five crowns.'
'You forgot my pockets,' I answered. 'Here are two pistoles; hand me
the wine.'
'The money first,' and she stretched out her hand.
Like a flash I closed my fingers on her wrist, and drew in her hand to
the full length of the arm.
'If you scream, if you utter a sound, I will tear your arm from its
socket.'
The answer was a shriek that might have been heard a half-mile away,
and then a foul oath and a howl of pain. It was hardly a knightly
deed, but there was too much at stake to mince matters; and on her
scream I gave the prisoner arm I held a wrench strong enough to show
that I could keep my word. As the shrill echoes of her cry died away,
I could hear her breathing heavily on the opposite side of the door,
and she struggled mutely and with surprising strength to free herself.
There was no answer to her call for help. There must have been many a
shriek for help that had rung through that terrible dungeon, and died
away answerless but for the mocking echoes! And Babette knew this, for
she ceased to utter a sound after that one long scream, and fought in
silence like a she-wolf at bay. At last she leaned exhausted against
the door, and I felt that half my game was won. It had been an
unexpected thought, and I had jumped at the opportunity Providence had
thrown in my way.
'Do you hear?' I said; 'open the door, or--' and I gave another
half-turn to her arm.
She who could inflict such suffering on others was of those who were
unable to bear the slightest pain herself. She moaned in agony and
called out:
'Free me, and I promise--I promise anything.'
I only laughed and repeated my order, relieving the strain on her arm,
however, so that she could slip back a half-pace or so from the
wicket. Then I heard the great lock open and the chain put down, and
Babette's voice trembling with anger and pain.
'It is open.'
The door swung outwards, so that all I had to do was to fold my
prisoner's arm from the elbow along its face as I pushed it open. It
kept her perfectly secure, and enabled me to take a precaution that,
it turned out, was needed, for as I pushed the door I drove the
death-hunter back with it, and the moment it was sufficiently open to
let me pass, I sprang out and seized her left arm. Quick as I was,
however, I was not quite quick enough to avoid the blow of her dagger,
and received a flesh wound, which, however, was after all but slight.
Then there was another struggle, and affairs were adjusted between
Babette and myself without any special harm being done to her.
'Now listen to me,' I said. 'Whatever happens, I will kill you first
if there is any treachery. Take me straight to Madame.'
'She is not here,' was the sullen reply.
'Then I take you with me to the Hotel de Ville. Come--to your senses.'
She broke into the most terrible imprecations; but time was precious,
and I quenched this readily enough, and at last it was clear she was
utterly cowed. Again I repeat that no harm was done, and it was only
dire necessity that compelled me to use the violence I did.
'Come,' and I shook her up. 'Where is Madame?'
She looked from right to left with a quick, uneasy motion of her eyes.
'I do not know. She is not here.'
I was compelled to believe her--or to accept her statement, which you
will.
'Very well, then I waste time no longer,' and suiting actions to my
words, and exerting my strength to its utmost, I took her with me up
the stairway, forcing her to open each of the doors that closed on it.
At the last door I took the precaution of gagging Babette, and
fastened her arms securely, but lightly, behind her back with her own
girdle. Then holding her against the wall, I ran rapidly over the
whole position. If Madame was in the house, which was uncertain, I
could effect her rescue better from without than within. If, on the
other hand, she was not there, I would be wasting most valuable time,
and perhaps ruin all chance of saving her, by searching the rooms of
the Toison d'Or, unarmed as I was. Once free, I could force de Gomeron
to give up his victim. He would not, after the charges I should lay
against him in an hour, dare to leave Paris, whatever else he might
do. That would in itself be a confession of guilt. As for Babette, I
felt it was impossible to drag her with me through the streets of
Paris.
'Look here!' and I gave my prisoner a shake. 'I fully believe that
Madame is here, and if you wish to save yourself from the rack--it
hurts more than what I have done to you--you will see that no harm
comes to her. You follow?'
She was speechless, but her eyes were blazing with wrath as she made a
sullen movement of her head.
'You had also better tell Monsieur de Gomeron, your master, that I
refuse his terms. It will save him the trouble of knowing that I have
escaped--you understand?'
This time she nodded eagerly enough.
'Now,' I went on, 'we will open the last door.'
I took the bunch of keys, and, after a try or two, succeeded in
hitting on the right one. After this I pushed Babette before me into
the small flagged yard, and saw to my surprise that it was night, and
that the moon was out. Then I gave the fact no further thought beyond
an inward 'Thank God!' for the uncertain moonlight that would cover my
escape. As I pushed my captive along the shadow of the wall until we
came to the entrance gate, I looked around and above me carefully, but
there was nothing to indicate where Madame was. A hundred times was I
tempted to turn back and risk all in searching the house for her, and
it was only because I was convinced that the sole chance of saving her
was to be free first myself that I did not give in to my desire. On
reaching the gate I discovered that there was a wicket in it large
enough to squeeze a man's body through, and that this was closed by a
heavy pair of iron cross-bars, a secure enough defence from the
outside. Holding Babette at arm's-length from me, I put down the bar
and opened the wicket. Then, still keeping my hold on her, I freed her
hands, and, bending slightly forwards and looking her straight in the
face, said:
'Remember! And adieu, Madame de--Mau-ginot!'
At these words, which brought back to her memory her crime on the
battle-field of La Fere, she shrank back, her eyes seemed to sink into
their sockets, and as I loosed my hold of her shoulder she fell in a
huddled heap on the flags of the yard.