A VISION IN THE NIGHT
DIMLY I saw Mademoiselle come out again into the road and mount a horse
that had been provided for her. Fronsac and I were unbound, though
not entrusted with our horses’ bridles, and we set forward at a more
leisurely pace than had marked the first stage of the journey. Plainly
there was no longer immediate fear of pursuit, and our guard relaxed
somewhat, breaking now and again into a snatch of song or shouting a
rude joke back and forth. I saw that our retreat was being made on
some well-matured plan, and my heart sank as I realized how remote was
chance of rescue.
The man at my right, who seemed to regard me with some small trace of
kindness, perceiving my blue nose and chattering teeth, gave me his
cloak, and this wrapped around me rendered the journey somewhat less of
torture. But nothing could drive away the chill which had settled about
my heart when I had looked into Claire’s eyes and caught no answering
gleam of friendship and interest in them. I did not see her again, for
she kept to the rear of the column with the other women, and I held my
face turned resolutely to the front, for even a cadet of Gascony has
his pride.
Night found us near Drovet, as I gathered from the talk of my guards,
for the country was quite unknown to me, but we left that squalid
village far on the right and pressed on through the darkness for an
hour longer. It seemed to me, from the uneven nature of the ground,
that we must have left the road, and I was about to ask whither we were
bound, when the command came to halt.
I could distinguish absolutely nothing in the darkness, but my guards
appeared to know the place well, and one of them, dismounting, led my
horse slowly forward across what seemed to be a bridge. I caught a
gleam of light ahead, and in a moment we turned a corner and I could
see something of my surroundings.
We were in the inner bailey of a castle, once of no little strength,
but fallen quite into decay, for the curtains were cracked and ragged
and broken, and two of the corner towers had toppled over. The donjon
loomed up into the darkness at one end, and alone seemed to have
defied the hand of time and the despoiler.
Towards this we rode, and at the door my captors leaped from the saddle
and helped me to dismount. I should have fallen had they not supported
me, for my joints had lost the power of motion. They led me to a corner
where a fire had just been started, and set me with my back against the
wall.
In a moment I saw them leading Fronsac in, and they set him down
opposite me, one of the men taking the precaution to stand guard
between. Presently the women passed, and I saw Mademoiselle smile at
my companion--a smile which brought the glad blood to his cheek and
in which there was life and hope. The others did not even glance in
our direction, though I watched them till they had disappeared into an
inner room.
But a woman’s coldness could not rob me of the grateful warmth of the
fire. How good it felt! My clothing was soon steaming in the heat, and
I struggled to my feet and turned slowly about before the blaze in
order to dry myself more thoroughly. I felt better with every minute,
save for a great and growing emptiness within, for I had eaten nothing
since my hasty breakfast with Fronsac at Montauban.
It was perhaps half an hour before one of the men came back to us
and ordered us to follow him. He led the way to the right through a
doorway into a lofty room, which, shattered and time-stained as it
was, retained still some traces of its former beauty. At one end was
the great fireplace, and in this a fire had been kindled and two men
were busily engaged preparing food. A lamb had been bought or stolen
somewhere, stripped deftly of its hide, dismembered, and set to roast
before the fire, and most savory and inviting did it smell. A pile of
bread, nearer black than white, was heaped upon a table, and to this we
were led and told to take what we wanted. A dripping piece of meat was
added, and we sat down again in our warm corners to enjoy it. Even now
it makes my mouth run to think of that meal and how good it tasted.
I could see that Fronsac relished it too, though the blood in his cheek
may have come from happiness. The guard still watched between us to
prevent our talking, while the others sat before the fire, crunching
their bread and meat. A sorry-looking lot they were, gathered,
doubtless, from the banditti who infested the mountains--Spaniards
most of them, swarthy and dirty, with countenances where one might
search in vain for a trace of kindliness. Yet sitting there I caught a
glimpse of the joy they got from life--a hard day’s march or stirring
fight, and then, after it, a snug seat close before a good fire, with
bread and meat, and, oh! such hunger to relish it!
The women I saw nothing of, and I thanked fortune that they had a
place apart in which to pass the night. But it was evidently here that
we were to sleep, for some of the men had already rolled themselves
in their cloaks and lay down against the wall, a saddle for pillow,
prepared to spend the night with what comfort they could. Not one of
them, except the guard between us, seemed to give us the slightest
heed, and for the first time since I had awakened with the water of
the river in my ears the thought of escape came to me. With only one
man to deal with, it would not be a difficult thing, provided he could
be silenced without awaking any of the others. At least, it was worth
thinking over. I got slowly to my feet, stretched my arms, and yawned.
Then I took a step towards the door, but the sentry stopped me.
“You will remain here, Monsieur,” he said.
“But I am weary,” I protested. “Where am I to spend the night?”
He grinned and pointed back at the corner.
“You will spend it there,” he said. “But here comes Drouet, whose
business it is to look after you.”
As he spoke the fellow who had ridden at my right all evening entered,
and with him another whom I remembered having seen with Fronsac. They
came direct to us, spread their cloaks before the fire, and Drouet
motioned me to seat myself on his.
“As I am responsible for your continuance with us, Monsieur,” he said,
sitting down beside me, “we must take a few precautions.”
“Very well,” I said. “Do whatever you think needful.”
Without more words he produced some pieces of rope. With one of these
he bound my right ankle to his left one, and then the guard came
forward and bound our wrists together.
“I think that will do,” he said. “I advise you not to endeavor to get
them loose, Monsieur, for I sleep lightly. Besides, M. le Duc cautioned
me not to hesitate to kill you should you attempt escape.”
“I shall attempt to do nothing but go to sleep,” I answered, yawning,
and we lay down together.
I saw that Fronsac watched all this keenly, and I knew that he too was
thinking of flight. His guard sat down beside him, as mine had done.
“There are two courses open to you, Monsieur,” he said. “Either give
me your word of honor not to attempt to get away, or submit to the
programme that has been carried out with your friend yonder. I must tie
your hands and feet.”
“But,” Fronsac protested, “they have not tied the hands and feet of my
friend.”
The fellow stepped over and looked down to see how I was secured.
“No,” he said, “but I am not a light sleeper, like Drouet there. I
can’t afford to take that chance. Come, Monsieur, choose.”
For answer Fronsac held out his hands, and in a moment they were lashed
together. Another rope was bound tightly about his ankles.
“There,” grunted the fellow, as he secured the last knot. “Now,
Monsieur, you may try to leave us if you wish. Only I warn you there
are some sentries about who will not hesitate to fire,” and rolling
himself in his cloak, he was snoring in a moment.
Despite my fatigue, sleep did not come readily to my eyes. My brain was
busy with thoughts of escape. I realized that once within Roquefort’s
stronghold at Marleon I should not find it easy to come out again, and
I had no desire for that introduction to the rack which he had promised
me. But to escape was no easy thing. I lay for long trying to devise
some plan which offered at least a prospect of success. I might reach
out with my free hand, grasp Drouet by the throat, and hold him so
until he ceased to breathe. But I realized that, with one hand, it was
most unlikely I could master so powerful a man, to say nothing of the
noise such an encounter must create. A sudden blow was impossible for
like reason. I tried softly to remove my hand from the knot which held
it, but found that, too, impossible. I tried to reach the knot with my
free hand, but Drouet stirred uneasily, and I lay still again. By the
fading light of the fire I could dimly see Fronsac struggling to free
himself, but with no more success than I. A sentry’s step sounded at
the door and a shadowy figure appeared there for a moment, looking
over the room to see that all was well. Then he disappeared into the
outer darkness, and for a time I watched the shadows dancing along the
walls and over the ceiling. Gradually they grew faint and fainter, and
fatigue weighed down my eyelids.
How long I slept I do not know, but I opened my eyes with a start and
looked about the room. The fire had burned so low on the hearth that
the place was almost in utter darkness, save for an instant, now and
then, as a log fell asunder and sent a shower of sparks into the air.
It was during one of these flashes that I fancied I saw a figure moving
far down the room, but the light died away before I could make sure. I
rubbed my eyes, braced my head against the wall, and waited. Yes, there
it was again--this time there could be no mistaking--a cloaked figure
bending over one man and then passing on to the next. What could it
mean?
[Illustration: My bonds fell from me]
The light died out again, but in a moment I saw the figure once more,
this time much nearer, and coming slowly down the line of sleeping men
towards the corner where I lay. Nearer and nearer it came, until I
felt a pair of eyes looking down into mine.
“M. de Marsan,” breathed a voice, “you are awake? Close your eyes to
show me that you hear.”
I closed my eyes an instant, the blood rushing to my temples, my nerves
a-quiver. I could not mistake that voice--no, not even its whisper!
“Can you get up?” asked the voice.
I shook my head and pointed with my free hand to my bound wrist and
ankle.
In an instant the figure had dropped to its knees beside me. I felt
swift fingers lightly examining the ropes, I caught the gleam of a
knife, and my bonds fell from me.
“Now, follow me, Monsieur,” whispered the voice.
For the moment I forgot everything but the joy of being with her--the
joy of holding her hand again and whispering in her ear. I got
cautiously to my knees, to my feet, and stole down the room after her.
A shower of ashes threw the place into sudden light and sent my heart
into my throat, but none of the sleepers stirred. She paused in the
shadow of the farthest corner until I had reached her side.
“There, M. de Marsan,” she whispered, “is a door through which, I
think, you may escape. You see I am not ungrateful.”
“Ungrateful!” I repeated, hoarsely, and caught her hand.
“You must go, Monsieur,” she protested. “Even a moment’s loitering here
may mean recapture.”
“But I am going to risk that moment. Mademoiselle,” I said. “You see
that my words have proved true and that we have met again; only, this
afternoon, I thought you had forgot me.”
“Oh, no, M. de Marsan,” she breathed, “I had not forgot you, nor am I
like to do so. Only I knew I could not help you did any one suspect me
for your friend. But you must go--hasten!”
“And you?” I asked.
“Oh, I--I will return to the apartment where my maid and Mademoiselle
de Cadillac are sleeping,” and she made a little motion towards another
door, almost hidden in the shadow.
There was a step at the door, and we saw the sentry enter and pause to
glance about the room. For an instant I was certain he had seen us, so
intently did he look towards the corner where we were, but at last he
passed on again.
I felt that the hand I held close in mine was trembling.
“You see the folly of delay, Monsieur,” she panted. “You must go,--they
must not retake you,--better to die fighting than to wait for death
at Marleon! Ah, you do not know!” and she drew her hand from mine and
pressed it for a moment to her eyes. How fair, how sweet she was! How I
trembled to take her in my arms! “Adieu, Monsieur. My prayers go with
you.”
“And only your prayers, Mademoiselle?” I whispered, my heart on fire.
“Go, go!” she repeated, and held out her hand.
I caught it in both of mine and pressed it to my lips.
“Again I say, Mademoiselle, that this is not the last time,” and I held
tightly to the hand, which she would have drawn away. “I understand
nothing of how you came to be awaiting us at the inn back yonder, but
I know that it is fate which has thrown us together twice already. The
third time we shall not part so quickly.”
And again she shook her head as she had in the Rue Gogard.
“I have not your confidence in fate, Monsieur,” she said. “Believe me,
you must go. If you will not consider your own peril, think of mine.”
True, I was a fool to have forgot it.
“Pardon,” I said. “Forgive me for thinking only of myself.”
I pressed my lips again to her soft, warm palm, and, not trusting
myself to look at her, turned towards the door she had pointed out to
me.
And then, in an instant, I remembered! I had not myself alone to
consider--there were Mademoiselle and Fronsac who must be freed also!
I could not leave them in this den of wolves--what a coward they would
think me!
I turned back. None of the sleepers had stirred, nor seemed like to
stir. Claire had disappeared into the inner room. I groped my way
slowly across the floor. I could see Fronsac sitting against the wall.
How his eyes brightened at sight of me coming back! He held his bound
wrists towards me eagerly.
“I thought you gone,” he whispered. “I was a fool! I might have known
you would come back!”
His eyes were dark and moist with emotion--his voice trembled. What a
thing it is to have a friend!
And then, of a sudden, there came the beat of horses’ hoofs without, a
sharp challenge; Drouet, awakened, rubbed his eyes sleepily, saw the
severed cords, and leaped to his feet with a yell. I tried to rise
to meet him, but he saw me on the instant, and with a bound like a
panther’s was upon me.