THE DEN OF THE WOLF
HOW my heart leaped as I saw that blazon! And then, in an instant, it
fell again, for what could three hundred men,--yes, or three thousand
men,--be they brave as Bayard, hope to accomplish against this castle
in the air? Roquefort might sit on the battlement and laugh at them.
True, they might starve him out in the course of months, if their
patience could last so long, but ere that Roquefort would have had his
will of me and d’Aurilly of Mademoiselle Valérie. Had they been but an
hour earlier!
So I watched them with gloomy face as they drew away from the walls and
pitched their camp a little distance down the valley, at the crest of
a small hill. Evening was at hand, and the shadows, deepening first at
the foot of the valley, stole silently up the hill-sides until all the
world below me was wrapped in darkness. Through my window I could see a
broad strip of sky, with a galaxy of stars twinkling brightly in it,
and I knew that the night was a fair, sweet, clear one. If only Claire
and I might wander through it with none but the stars for company!
Soon the fires of the camp gleamed out, first one and then another,
and finally many of them. To right and left of the camp beacons were
lighted to guard against surprise, and I knew that M. le Comte was
preparing for any fortune. In the town too a light shone here and
there, and the murmur which floated up from the streets proved that the
town-people had not yet done with discussing the advent of this new
enemy.
A noise at the door brought me from the window. I heard the bolts
thrown back, the door opened, and Drouet appeared on the threshold,
bearing a flickering lantern in one hand and a plate of bread and meat
and can of water in the other. These he set upon the floor, and with
a not unfriendly gesture motioned me to them. In faith, I was hungry
enough, and needed no second bidding! Drouet placed his lantern on the
floor and sat down opposite me. For a time he watched me in silence, as
though enjoying the sight of my hunger, but I knew that he could not
keep silence long, for I had already proved his love of gossip.
“I dare say you saw that little show down yonder,” he remarked at last.
“Cadillac would better have remained at home. Here he can only starve.
He will find scant forage in these hills.”
“You do not know M. le Comte,” I retorted with a confidence I confess I
did not feel. “He will smoke you out of this hole yet, and then ’twill
be time to say your prayers. Possibly you have already felt his hand
and so know its weight.”
Drouet smiled somewhat ruefully.
“Possibly,” he admitted; “yet if he venture to assault this place, he
nor his men will see Cadillac again.”
At the bottom of my heart I believed him, but I held my smile.
“Yet he has his points,” he continued after a moment. “He sent a
warning to M. le Duc just now, threatening I know not what if the
girl and you two youngsters were not surrendered unharmed forthwith.
You should have seen M. le Duc’s face! He sent back a warm message
too. ‘Tell your master,’ he said to the envoy, ‘I propose to change
Mademoiselle de Cadillac into Madame d’Aurilly. We will then make such
treaty as we see fit to prevent d’Aurilly wearying of his wife. This
spy from Marsan is going to bawl his life out on the rack. As for the
other, I have not yet decided.’ And the envoy went away to deliver this
pretty news. One can imagine how Cadillac will receive it! How those
two hate each other! France is not wide enough to hold them both.”
“And when is this marriage to take place?” I asked, affecting to pass
over that portion of the message which concerned myself, though it
struck me to the heart.
“Soon,” and Drouet winked. “You see, M. d’Aurilly is hungering to
possess this pretty piece of womanhood--it seems he is even in love
with her! To-morrow, perhaps, or next day. M. le Duc is a man who never
delays, and he has a priest here who is most obliging.”
“The King,” I cried, “will have something to say to that! There are
rumors of strange plots which affect your master. He may go too far!”
But Drouet only laughed.
“Paris is a long way off,” he said, “and the King has much that
concerns him nearer home. Besides, this castle could set at naught
even a King’s army, should any be brought against it, which is most
unlikely. But in all this rush of events do not despair--you will not
be forgotten. M. le Duc himself will wish to see you ere long,” and he
chuckled to himself as he picked up his lantern and moved towards the
door.
For an instant I burned to spring upon him, to pull him down, to kill
him with his own poniard. But there was doubtless a sentry in the
corridor, who could wing me with a single musket-shot--not yet--not
yet--and I let him pass. I must first find a plan--a plan. Come, what
were my wits for?
I lay down on my pallet in one corner to think it over. But what a
problem! To escape from this stronghold in the air, with only one’s
bare hands to aid! It was too much for even a Marsan’s cunning!
A musket-shot far down the hill brought me out of my thoughts and to
my feet. It was followed by another and another, and as I rushed to my
window I fancied I could hear a chorus of yells, as of men fighting
hand to hand. The cries rose and fell and died away--then a tremendous
explosion shook the earth. Far below me I saw a great spurt of flame
shoot upward, and I knew that M. le Comte was blowing in the gates of
Marleon. At least, he could make himself master of the town. There was
for a few moments a renewal of the fighting, and then all was still
again.
I thought the attack over, and was just turning to rest when there came
another burst of firing from behind the hill--M. le Comte was trying to
force the castle! The firing waxed and waned and died away. I listened
in vain for any further outcry. Plainly, he had been repulsed, and
seeing how desperate the road was, had not ventured a second assault.
Would he ever venture it, I wondered! He loved his daughter, to be
sure, yet would it not be the purest folly to dash himself to pieces
against this rock in the attempt to rescue her? What could he hope
to accomplish? And whenever Roquefort scented danger, could he not
threaten reprisals on Mademoiselle herself? Better to draw off, to
leave Mademoiselle to such fate as Roquefort had prepared for her, and
wait another day, when, by some ruse or sudden ambuscade, Roquefort and
d’Aurilly might be made to pay drop for drop!
Weighted with such bitter thoughts, I lay down again upon my pallet
and this time dropped asleep. Nor did I waken till some one shook me
roughly, and I opened my eyes to see Drouet standing above me and full
day peering in at the window.
“God’s blood!” he cried, “but you sleep soundly! Here, get up and eat.
You will need your strength this day!”
I got to my feet and looked at him.
“And why?” I questioned, as carelessly as I could, for there was a
menace in his words that startled me.
“Because you are to have a little interview with Mother Brodequin and
others of her family.”
“Mother Brodequin?” I repeated.
“Yes,” and he bent over towards one foot and made a gesture as of
tightening a screw. “You understand? ’Tis our pet name for her. She is
not lovely to look at, but she has a tight embrace.”
I understood, and I found my craving for the food suddenly vanished. I
protest I am no coward--but the boot--the rack--I knew not what horrors
lay before me. ’Twas enough to chill the courage of any man. Still, I
made pretence of eating that Drouet might not see my terror.
“I heard some shots last night,” I said at last. “Was there an attack?”
“Hardly that,” he laughed. “Cadillac tried to crawl up the road, but
was soon glad to scuttle down again. He will not try it a second time
unless he is madder than I think him.”
“But he gained the town,” I said.
“The town, yes. But the town is nothing. M. le Duc never deigns to
assist in its defence; its walls are down in a dozen places. That was
no victory. He will never take the castle.”
I quite agreed, but held my tongue.
“M. le Duc holds the upper hand,” he added exultantly. “How he will
squeeze Cadillac dry ere he is done with him! But there, I must go.
Somehow when I am with you I run to gossip. But then you will talk so
little in this world!”
“When is this interview to take place?” I asked.
“Soon,” and he laughed. “There are certain preparations to be made, but
they will not take long,” and, still laughing, he was gone.
I gazed about the cell helplessly. Was there no way out? Must I
fall victim to this monster of a Roquefort? To fall in fair fight,
in warm blood, in the open day, were nothing--a man could go to
death then gladly. But slowly, in a dark cellar, with others looking
on exulting--ugh! I felt my nerves quivering at the horror of the
thought--and then, with set teeth, I put the weakness from me. Other
men--yes, and women--had gone to the same fate with smiling lips--why
not I, a Marsan?
So when Drouet opened the door again he found me looking from my
window down upon M. le Comte’s camp, and I flatter myself that he was
surprised at the calmness of my greeting.
“You will follow me, Monsieur,” he said in a tone somewhat repressed.
Perhaps even he was beginning to pity me.
“Willingly,” I answered, and after him I went, out into the hall,
where two sentries fell in behind me, down the stair, across a gloomy
interior court to a great stone tower standing somewhat detached, then
down another stair. I felt my head grow giddy as we left behind us the
good air and the bright sunshine--perhaps I was nevermore to see them,
or to see them only from a racked and crooked body. But again I caught
my manhood back to me and went on down the stair with a step tolerably
firm.
A torch was blazing at the foot, lighting partially a dismal passage
which seemed to lead into the very bowels of the earth. Down this
Drouet turned, and paused, at last, before a door.
“This is the place,” he said in a low tone. “Enter,” and he opened the
door and stood aside.
I noted how thick it was, how heavy--plainly no cry, however shrill
and agonized, could pierce it. For an instant the thought came to me
to hurl myself upon my guards, to tear them by the throat until they
should be forced to kill me--that would be the easier way. Yet--oh,
heart of youth!--perhaps beyond the door there were not certain
death--there might yet be a chance--and life was sweet!
So I stepped across the threshold and heard the door swing shut behind
me.