"Nay, mademoiselle; you shall hear me!" I cried, with a sternness which at last stopped her. "Granted I am poor, I am still a gentleman; yes, mademoiselle," I continued, firmly, "a gentleman, and the last of a family which has spoken with yours on equal terms. And I claim to be heard. I swear that when I came here to-night I believed you to be a perfect stranger! I was unaware that I had ever seen you, unaware that I had ever met you before."
"Then why did you come?" she said viciously.
"I was engaged to come by those whom you have mentioned, and there, and there only am I in fault. They entrusted to me a token which I have lost. For that I crave your pardon."
"You have need to," she answered bitterly, yet with a changed countenance, or I was mistaken, "if your story be true, sir."
"Ay, that you have!" the woman beside her echoed. "Hoity toity, indeed! Here is a fuss about nothing. You call yourself a gentleman, and wear such a doublet as----"
"Peace, Fanchette!" mademoiselle said imperiously. And then for a moment she stood silent, eyeing me intently, her lips trembling with excitement and two red spots burning in her cheeks. It was clear from her dress and other things that she had made up her mind to fly had the token been forthcoming; and seeing this, and knowing how unwilling a young girl is to forego her own way, I still had some hopes that she might not persevere in her distrust and refusal. And so it turned out.
Her manner had changed to one of quiet scorn when she next spoke. "You defend yourself skilfully, sir," she said, drumming with her fingers on the table and eyeing me steadfastly. "But can you give me any reason for the person you name making choice of such a messenger?"
"Yes," I answered, boldly. "That he may not be suspected of conniving at your escape."
"Oh!" she cried, with a spark of her former pa.s.sion. "Then it is to be put about that Mademoiselle de la Vire had fled from Chize with M. de Marsac, is it? I thought that!"
"Through the a.s.sistance of M. de Marsac," I retorted, correcting her coldly. "It is for you, mademoiselle," I continued, "to weigh that disadvantage against the unpleasantness of remaining here. It only remains for me to ask you to decide quickly. Time presses, and I have stayed here too long already."
The words had barely pa.s.sed my lips when they received unwelcome confirmation in the shape of a distant sound--the noisy closing of a door, which, clanging through the house at such an hour--I judged it to be after three o"clock--could scarcely mean anything but mischief.
This noise was followed immediately, even while we stood listening with raised fingers, by other sounds--a m.u.f.fled cry, and the tramp of heavy footsteps in a distant pa.s.sage. Mademoiselle looked at me, and I at her woman. "The door!" I muttered. "Is it locked?"
"And bolted!" Fanchette answered; "and a great chest set against it.
Let them ramp; they will do no harm for a bit."
"Then you have still time, mademoiselle," I whispered, retreating a step and laying my hand on the curtain before the window. Perhaps I affected greater coolness than I felt. "It is not too late. If you choose to remain, well and good. I cannot help it. If, on the other hand, you decide to trust yourself to me, I swear, on the honour of a gentleman, to be worthy of the trust--to serve you truly and protect you to the last! I can say no more."
She trembled, looking from me to the door, on which some one had just begun to knock loudly. That seemed to decide her. Her lips apart, her eyes full of excitement, she turned hastily to Fanchette.
"Ay, go if you like," the woman answered doggedly, reading the meaning of her look. "There cannot be a greater villain than the one we know of. But once started, heaven help us, for if he overtakes us we"ll pay dearly for it!"
The girl did not speak herself, but it was enough. The noise at the door increased each second, and began to be mingled with angry appeals to Fanchette to open, and with threats in case she delayed. I cut the matter short by s.n.a.t.c.hing up one of the saddle-bags--the other we left behind--and flung back the curtain which covered the window. At the same time the woman dashed out the light--a timely precaution--and throwing open the cas.e.m.e.nt I stepped on to the balcony, the others following me closely.
The moon had risen high, and flooding with light the small open s.p.a.ce about the house enabled me to see clearly all round the foot of the ladder. To my surprise Fresnoy was not at his post, nor was he to be seen anywhere; but as, at the moment I observed this, an outcry away to my left, at the rear of the chateau, came to my ears, and announced that the danger was no longer confined to the interior of the house, I concluded that he had gone that way to intercept the attack. Without more, therefore, I began to descend as quickly as I could, my sword under one arm and the bag under the other.
I was half-way down, and mademoiselle was already stepping on to the ladder to follow, when I heard footsteps below, and saw him run up, his sword in his hand.
"Quick, Fresnoy!" I cried. "To the horses and unfasten them! Quick!"
I slid down the rest of the way, thinking he had gone to do my bidding. But my feet were scarcely on the ground when a tremendous blow in the side sent me staggering three paces from the ladder. The attack was so sudden, so unexpected, that but for the sight of Fresnoy"s scowling face, wild with rage, at my shoulder, and the sound of his fierce breathing as he strove to release his sword, which had pa.s.sed through my saddle-bag, I might never have known who struck the blow, or how narrow had been my escape.
Fortunately the knowledge did come to me in time, and before he freed his blade; and it nerved my hand. To draw my blade at such close quarters was impossible, but, dropping the bag which had saved my life, I dashed my hilt twice in his face with such violence that he fell backwards and lay on the turf, a dark stain growing and spreading on his upturned face.
It was scarcely done before the women reached the foot of the ladder and stood beside me. "Quick!" I cried to them, "or they will be upon us." Seizing mademoiselle"s hand, just as half-a-dozen men came running round the corner of the house, I jumped with her down the haha, and, urging her to her utmost speed, dashed across the open ground which lay between us and the belt of trees. Once in the shelter of the latter, where our movements were hidden from view, I had still to free the horses and mount mademoiselle and her woman, and this in haste. But my companions" admirable coolness and presence of mind, and the objection which our pursuers, who did not know our numbers, felt to leaving the open ground, enabled us to do all with comparative ease. I sprang on the Cid (it has always been my habit to teach my horse to stand for me, nor do I know any accomplishment more serviceable at a pinch), and giving Fresnoy"s grey a cut over the flanks which despatched it ahead, led the way down the ride by which I had gained the chateau in the afternoon. I knew it to be level and clear of trees, and the fact that we chose it might throw our pursuers off the track for a time, by leading them to think we had taken the south road instead of that through the village.
CHAPTER V.
THE ROAD TO BLOIS.
We gained the road without let or hindrance, whence a sharp burst in the moonlight soon brought us to the village. Through this we swept on to the inn, almost running over the four evangelists, whom we found standing at the door ready for the saddle. I bade them, in a quick peremptory tone, to get to horse, and was overjoyed to see them obey without demur or word of Fresnoy. In another minute, with a great clatter of hoofs, we sprang clear of the hamlet, and were well on the road to Melle, with Poitiers some thirteen leagues before us. I looked back, and thought I discerned lights moving in the direction of the chateau; but the dawn was still two hours off, and the moonlight left me in doubt whether these were real or the creatures of my own fearful fancy.
I remember, three years before this time, on the occasion of the famous retreat from Angers--when the Prince of Conde had involved his army beyond the Loire, and saw himself, in the impossibility of recrossing the river, compelled to take ship for England, leaving every one to shift for himself--I well remember on that occasion riding, alone and pistol in hand, through more than thirty miles of the enemy"s country without drawing rein. But my anxieties were then confined to the four shoes of my horse. The dangers to which I was exposed at every ford and cross road were such as are inseparable from a campaign, and breed in generous hearts only a fierce pleasure, rarely to be otherwise enjoyed. And though I then rode warily, and where I could not carry terror, had all to fear myself, there was nothing secret or underhand in my business.
It was very different now. During the first few hours of our flight from Chize I experienced a painful excitement, an alarm, a feverish anxiety to get forward, which was new to me; which oppressed my spirits to the very ground; which led me to take every sound borne to us on the wind for the sound of pursuit, transforming the clang of a hammer on the anvil into the ring of swords, and the voices of my own men into those of the pursuers. It was in vain mademoiselle rode with a free hand, and leaping such obstacles as lay in our way, gave promise of courage and endurance beyond my expectations. I could think of nothing but the three long days before us, with twenty-four hours to every day, and each hour fraught with a hundred chances of disaster and ruin.
In fact, the longer I considered our position--and as we pounded along, now splashing through a founderous hollow, now stumbling as we wound over a stony shoulder, I had ample time to reflect upon it--the greater seemed the difficulties before us. The loss of Fresnoy, while it freed me from some embarra.s.sment, meant also the loss of a good sword, and we had mustered only too few before. The country which lay between us and the Loire, being the borderland between our party and the League, had been laid desolate so often as to be abandoned to pillage and disorder of every kind. The peasants had flocked into the towns. Their places had been taken by bands of robbers and deserters from both parties, who haunted the ruined villages about Poitiers, and preyed upon all who dared to pa.s.s. To add to our perils, the royal army under the Duke of Nevers was reported to be moving slowly southward, not very far to the left of our road; while a Huguenot expedition against Niort was also in progress within a few leagues of us.
With four staunch and trustworthy comrades at my back, I might have faced even this situation with a smile and a light heart; but the knowledge that my four knaves might mutiny at any moment, or, worse still, rid themselves of me and all restraint by a single treacherous blow such as Fresnoy had aimed at me, filled me with an ever-present dread; which it taxed my utmost energies to hide from them, and which I strove in vain to conceal from mademoiselle"s keener vision.
Whether it was this had an effect upon her, giving her a meaner opinion of me than that which I had for a while hoped she entertained, or that she began, now it was too late, to regret her flight and resent my part in it, I scarcely know; but from daybreak onwards she a.s.sumed an att.i.tude of cold suspicion towards me, which was only less unpleasant than the scornful distance of her manner when she deigned, which was seldom, to address me.
Not once did she allow me to forget that I was in her eyes a needy adventurer, paid by her friends to escort her to a place of safety, but without any claim to the smallest privilege of intimacy or equality. When I would have adjusted her saddle, she bade her woman come and hold up her skirt, that my hands might not touch its hem even by accident. And when I would have brought wine to her at Melle, where we stayed for twenty minutes, she called Fanchette to hand it to her.
She rode for the most part in her mask; and with her woman. One good effect only her pride and reserve had; they impressed our men with a strong sense of her importance, and the danger to which any interference with her might expose them.
The two men whom Fresnoy had enlisted I directed to ride a score of paces in advance. Luke and John I placed in the rear. In this manner I thought to keep them somewhat apart. For myself, I proposed to ride abreast of mademoiselle, but she made it so clear that my neighbourhood displeased her that I fell back, leaving her to ride with Fanchette; and contented myself with plodding at their heels, and striving to attach the later evangelists to my interests.
We were so fortunate, despite my fears, as to find the road nearly deserted--as, alas, was much of the country on either side--and to meet none but small parties travelling along it; who were glad enough, seeing the villainous looks of our outriders, to give us a wide berth, and be quit of us for the fright. We skirted Lusignan, shunning the streets, but pa.s.sing near enough for me to point out to mademoiselle the site of the famous tower built, according to tradition, by the fairy Melusina, and rased thirteen years back by the Leaguers. She received my information so frigidly, however, that I offered no more, but fell back shrugging my shoulders, and rode in silence, until, some two hours after noon, the city of Poitiers came into sight, lying within its circle of walls and towers on a low hill in the middle of a country clothed in summer with rich vineyards, but now brown and bare and cheerless to the eye.
Fanchette turned and asked me abruptly if that were Poitiers.
I answered that it was, but added that for certain reasons I proposed not to halt, but to lie at a village a league beyond the city, where there was a tolerable inn.
"We shall do very well here," the woman answered rudely. "Any way, my lady will go no farther. She is tired and cold, and wet besides, and has gone far enough."
"Still," I answered, nettled by the woman"s familiarity, "I think mademoiselle will change her mind when she hears my reasons for going farther."
"Mademoiselle does not wish to hear them, sir," the lady replied herself, and very sharply.
"Nevertheless, I think you had better hear them," I persisted, turning to her respectfully. "You see, mademoiselle----"
"I see only one thing, sir," she exclaimed, s.n.a.t.c.hing off her mask and displaying a countenance beautiful indeed, but flushed for the moment with anger and impatience, "that, whatever betides, I stay at Poitiers to-night."
"If it would content you to rest an hour?" I suggested gently.
"It will not content me!" she rejoined with spirit. "And let me tell you, sir," she went on impetuously, "once for all, that you take too much upon yourself. You are here to escort me, and to give orders to these ragam.u.f.fins, for they are nothing better, with whom you have thought fit to disgrace our company; but not to give orders to me or to control my movements. Confine yourself for the future, sir, to your duties, if you please."
"I desire only to obey you," I answered, suppressing the angry feelings which rose in my breast, and speaking as coolly as lay in my power. "But, as the first of my duties is to provide for your safety, I am determined to omit nothing which can conduce to that end. You have not considered that, if a party in pursuit of us reaches Poitiers to-night, search will be made for us in the city, and we shall be taken. If, on the other hand, we are known to have pa.s.sed through, the hunt may go no farther; certainly will go no farther to-night.
Therefore we must not, mademoiselle," I added firmly, "lie in Poitiers to-night."
"Sir," she exclaimed, looking at me, her face crimson with wonder and indignation, "do you dare to?"
"I dare do my duty, mademoiselle," I answered, plucking up a spirit, though my heart was sore. "I am a man old enough to be your father, and with little to lose, or I had not been here. I care nothing what you think or what you say of me, provided I can do what I have undertaken to do and place you safely in the hands of your friends.
But enough, mademoiselle, we are at the gate. If you will permit me, I will ride through the streets beside you. We shall so attract less attention."
Without waiting for a permission which she was very unlikely to give, I pushed my horse forward, and took my place beside her, signing to Fanchette to fall back. The maid obeyed, speechless with indignation; while mademoiselle flashed a scathing glance at me and looked round in helpless anger, as though it was in her mind to appeal against me even to the pa.s.sers-by. But she thought better of it, and contenting herself with muttering the word "Impertinent" put on her mask with fingers which trembled, I fancy, not a little.