"Bring him here," said Christine. "We will see him together."
"I cannot--I----Ah! He is here already!"
From the darkness of the pa.s.sage without a priest advanced into the room. His cloak was wrapped closely round him and the hood drawn low over his face.
"Leave us, Lucille," said Christine. "A priest may enter anywhere, even to a prisoner."
"The Countess said----"
"Go! You may lose the friendship of the Countess to find a better one.
Christine de Liancourt has still power in Vayenne. Go! You shall have excuse. See, I force you from the room!" And she gently pushed her out, shut the door, and locked it.
As she turned Herrick threw back his hood, and let the cloak fall apart.
"Again as a priest I come to you, mademoiselle."
"But this house is dangerous for you. Only to-night I have learned that I am virtually a prisoner in it."
"To-night I believe Count Felix has learned that you are here," said Herrick.
"From whom?"
"From the Countess Elisabeth. Jean saw her approach the Count, heard your name mentioned. That is why I have come. I thought it might be that as a priest I should more easily gain admittance, and Jean borrowed the cloak for me."
"But they may be here at any moment if the Countess has betrayed me."
"That is why I have come," Herrick answered.
"You must not stay. Felix will not really harm me, but you----"
"Have no fear, mademoiselle. I go armed, as you see. This dress proclaims me in the suite of De Bornais, and to-day no one has recognized the man they took for a spy in it. I have come from the castle. I am lodged there--a guest."
Christine turned again to the door to make certain it was locked, and then ran to the window, and closed it.
"I am afraid," she said, a color in her cheeks; "Jean climbed in this way, and bid me remember that an enemy might do the same. Oh, why have you come! Could you not have sent a messenger, could you not have sent Jean?"
"No, mademoiselle. I could trust none with my message to-night."
"Tell me," she said. "Tell me quickly. Every pa.s.sing moment makes me more afraid."
"In three days Count Felix will be formally proclaimed Duke," said Herrick. "The blow we have planned will be struck then. It is a desperate venture; it may fail, but it is the only way."
"And if it fails?" said Christine.
"To-night the Count is almost certain to send for you," Herrick went on, as though he did not hear her question. "If you will not go willingly, he will probably have ordered that you shall be taken by force. No one knows better than he does how much questioning there is at your absence from the castle at this time. Your presence must help him, and I could have wished that you had not been there until the day he is proclaimed. As it is, you must go willingly."
"And then?"
"Wait, mademoiselle."
"What part have I to play?" said Christine.
"Ours is a scheme in which little can be arranged beforehand," Herrick answered. "Much of our action must be decided by the events of the moment. If I fail----"
"Yes; if you fail?"
"Who can tell, mademoiselle? Even then luck may show me a way out,"
said Herrick. "A man who hopes to achieve never allows himself to consider what may happen in the case of failure. It would make a coward of him."
"But those who--others--his friends may think for him," she answered.
"We will not think of failure."
"Let me judge. Tell me the whole plot."
"Mademoiselle, I came myself to-night, so that you might understand.
In the hut yonder in the forest you accepted my service. The other night when I sent you a message which must have sounded strangely like a command, you sent me an answer, obedience and trust. Even as Jean gave it me I could see you smile at the promise to obey."
"I did not smile. I meant it. Witness that I am here to-night."
"And trust, did you mean that too?" asked Herrick.
"Yes."
"I am going to try your trust to the utmost limit. I cannot tell you the plot. I cannot tell you what I intend to do."
"Why not?"
"Do not ask me. I cannot answer."
"The trust is to be all on my side," said Christine slowly.
"And it may be strained to breaking point. You may--indeed, I fear you will--find it difficult to believe in me. I am here to-night to tell you so. For no duke am I doing this thing, but for you--you. There will be plenty of tongues to fill your ears with evil thoughts of me; then remember what I have said to-night. Circ.u.mstances have forced me into this part that I must play, circ.u.mstances and a woman--you."
"Circ.u.mstances; yes, I understand that; but----"
"But the other you cannot understand," said Herrick quickly. "Is it anything to me, do you suppose, who rules in Montvilliers?"
"Did I not urge that upon you in the forest?" said Christine.
"Yes; and I gave you an answer. My whim compelled me to see the game to the end. There was truth in that answer, but not all the truth. Did you guess that?"
"I thought of it afterward," she answered.
"Circ.u.mstances I might break through," Herrick went on. "They may still be looking for a priest in Vayenne, but this dress of the De Bornais would pa.s.s me out of the gates. In a few hours I might be across the frontier."
"Why not go?" she asked, looking suddenly up into his eyes.