Corse de Leon Part 2

"This way, n.o.ble sir, this way," cried the man, advancing at once along the road which led more immediately into the mountains. "They cannot have gone far: I could hear the voices of the brigands from the inn door."

Thus saying, he led the way onward with great speed; but, as Bernard de Rohan followed with the same quick pace, the clear, deep voice of the man whom the host had called Master Leon sounded in his ear, saying, "There is some mistake here, and I think some villany; but fear not."

"Fear!" replied Bernard de Rohan, turning his head towards him. "Do you suppose I fear?"

"No, I suppose not," replied the man; "but yet there was no common interest in your eye, good youth, when this knave talked of his young mistress, and one may fear for others, though not for themselves. But hark! I hear a noise on before. Voices speaking. Some one complaining, I think. Quick, quick! Run, Sir Varlet, run!"

At the rapid pace at which they now proceeded they soon heard the sounds more distinctly before them. There was a noise of horses, and a jingling as of the bells of mules. The murmuring of a number of voices, too, came borne upon the air down the pa.s.s, and some four or five hundred yards farther up the servant, who was now running on as fast as possible, stumbled over a wounded man, who uttered a cry of pain. But the young man and his companions slackened not their pace, for by this time they could plainly hear some sharp and angry voices pouring forth oaths and imprecations, and urging what seemed to be a band of prisoners to hurry forward more rapidly. At the same time the light of a torch, or more than one, was seen gleaming upon the gray rocks and green foliage, and on one occasion it threw upon the flat face of a crag on the other side of the ravine the shadow of a large body of men with horses and other beasts of burden.

"Now out with your swords," cried the personage named Leon, in a tone of authority, "for we are gaining on them quick, and I doubt not shall have stout resistance."

Bernard de Rohan's sword was already in his hand before the other spoke, and, hurrying on, the next moment he reached an angle of the rock, from which he could plainly discern the whole party that he was pursuing. He paused for an instant as he saw them, and well might that sight make him do so, for the torchlight displayed to his eyes a body of at least fifteen or sixteen armed men, some of them mounted, some of them on foot, driving on in the midst of them two or three loaded horses, and seven or eight men and women, several of them apparently having their hands tied. The party was about two hundred yards in advance; and, though the torchlight was sufficient to show him the particulars which we have mentioned, yet it did no more than display the gleaming of the arms and the fluttering of the women's garments, without at all giving any indication of the rank or station to which the prisoners belonged.

The young cavalier, it must be remembered, was accompanied by only five persons, and the greater part of those five were, like himself, but lightly armed. His momentary pause, however, was only to reconnoitre the enemy, without the slightest hesitation as to what his own conduct was to be. He knew the effect of a sudden and unexpected attack, and calculated upon some a.s.sistance also from the prisoners themselves; but, had he had nothing but his own courage in his favour, his conduct would have been the same. He was again hurrying on, when the powerful grasp of the man named Leon was laid upon his arm, and stayed him.

"Hush!" he said: "do not be too quick! Do you not see that these men are no brigands, as you thought?"

"How should I see that?" demanded Bernard de Rohan, turning sharply upon him. "Who but brigands would commit an act like this?"

"Think you that brigands would have torches with them?" said his companion, calmly. "Pause a moment, pause a moment: let them get round yon point of the rock; for, if they hear us coming, and see how few we are, we shall be obliged to do things that we had better not. Beyond the rock they will be cooped up in a little basin of the hills, where they can be attacked with advantage."

"You seem to know the country well," said Bernard de Rohan, gazing upon him with some suspicion, as the light of the torches, faintly reflected from the other side of the valley, served partially to display his dark but fine countenance.

"Ay! I do know it well!" replied the other: "so well, that from the foot of that rock which they are now turning, I will guide you up by a path over the shoulder of the hill till we meet them in front, at the same time that some of your people attack them in the rear."

Bernard de Rohan did now hesitate, but it was only for a moment. His mind was not naturally a suspicious one; and, of course, had the proposal been made by any one whom he knew, the advantages of such a plan would have instantly struck him, and he would have followed it at once. But the man who suggested it was unknown to him: nay, more, there was something in his tone, his manner, in his whole appearance, which, to say the best, was strange and unusual. His garb, as far as it had been seen, was unlike that of the peasantry of Savoy; and, in short, there was that about him which naturally tended to create a doubt as to his ordinary pursuits and occupations.

Bernard de Rohan hesitated then, but it was with the hesitation of only one moment. He had been accustomed to deal with and to command fierce and reckless men; and, though his years were not sufficient to have given what may be called the _insight of experience_, he had by nature that clear discernment of the human character which is the meed of some few, and may be called the _insight of instinct_.

During his momentary pause, then, he saw that the dark eye of his companion was fixed upon him as if reading what was pa.s.sing in his mind.

The jovial priest also seemed to penetrate his thoughts, and said, in a low voice, "You may trust him! You may trust him! He never betrayed any one."

"I do trust him," cried Bernard de Rohan, turning round and grasping the stranger's hand; "I trust him entirely. You and I," he continued, "will go over the hill alone. If I judge right, we have both been in many a hot day's strife, and can keep that narrow road without much a.s.sistance.

It is better that there should be a show of more people behind."

As he spoke, the faint flash of the receding torches showed him a smile upon his companion's countenance. "Come on slowly," said Corse de Leon, "and keep near the rock; we shall soon get up with them, for they are enc.u.mbered, and we are free."

Thus saying, he led the way, remaining, as far as possible, under the shadow of the crags till the last of the party before them had turned the angle beyond, and the whole valley was again in darkness. The cavalier and those who were with him then hurried their pace till they reached a spot where a point of rock jutted out into the valley. There the stranger paused, bidding the attendants of the young n.o.bleman pursue their way along the road till they came up with the rear of the other party, and then attack them as suddenly and vehemently as possible.

"Make all speed," he said, "for we shall be there before you, cutting off the corner of the hill. Here, priest!" he continued, "here's a pistol and a dagger for you. You'll need something to work with. Now quick on your way, for the moon will be out in a few minutes, if one may judge by the paleness of that cloud's edge, and her light would betray our scanty numbers. Follow me, baron! Here! Upon this rock! Catch by that bough! Another step, and you are in the path!"

As he spoke, he himself sprang up, seeming well acquainted with every stock and every stone in the way; Bernard de Rohan followed with less knowledge of the path, but all the agility of youth and strength, and they had soon nearly reached the brow of the hill.

"Out upon the pale moon!" cried Bernard de Rohan's companion, pausing and gazing up towards the sky. "She shines at the very moment she should not. See how she is casting away those clouds, as if she were opening the hangings of her tent! We may go slow, for we shall be far before them."

He now led the way onward with a slower pace; and, after ascending for somewhat more than a quarter of a mile, the path began to descend again as if to rejoin the road. Every step was now clear, for the moon was shining brightly; and though no one, probably, could see Bernard de Rohan and his companion as they took their way among the rhododendrons and junipers which were thickly mingled with the fragments of rock around, yet they themselves, from time to time, caught a distinct view of the valley. An occasional flash of light upon their left hand, too, but a good deal in the rear, soon showed Bernard de Rohan that his guide had told him the truth in regard to the shortness of the path he had taken, though he could not absolutely see the road, or those who were travelling along it. At length, however, they reached a spot where the path which they were following wound along within ten yards of the chief road itself, and, choosing a small break nearly surrounded with tall shrubs and broken ma.s.ses of crag, Corse de Leon stopped, saying, "It will be well to stay for their coming here. They will take full ten minutes to reach this place. You wait for them here; I will climb a little farther up, to watch them as they come, and will be back again in time."

If Bernard de Rohan entertained any suspicion in regard to his guide's purposes, he knew that it would be vain to show it, and therefore he made no opposition to the plan that his companion proposed, but let him depart without a word; and then, choosing a spot among the trees where he could see without being seen, he gazed down into the little basin formed by the surrounding hills. The clear light of the moon was now streaming bright and full into the valley, only interrupted from time to time for a single moment by fragments of the clouds driven across by the wind; but at first Bernard de Rohan could see nothing of the party which he was pursuing; for the road, as usual, wound in and out along the irregular sides of the mountain, being raised upon a sort of terrace some two hundred feet above the bottom of the valley. In a moment or two, however, he caught sight of them again, coming slowly on, but with their torches now extinguished, and presenting nothing but a dark ma.s.s, brightened here and there by the reflection of the moon's light from some steel cap or breastplate.

The time seemed long, and their advance slow, to Bernard de Rohan; for, although he had lain in many an ambush against the foe, and had taken part in many an encounter where the odds against him were scarcely less than those which were now presented, yet, of course, he could not but feel some emotion in awaiting the result--that deep and thrilling interest, in fact, which has nothing to do with fear, and approaches perhaps even nearer to joy--the interest which can only be felt in the antic.i.p.ation of a fierce but n.o.ble strife, where, knowing the amount of all we risk, we stake life and all life's blessings upon the success of some great and generous endeavour. He felt all this, and all the emotions which such a state must bring with it; and thus, longing to throw the die, he found the moments of expectation long.

Now seen and now lost to his sight, the party continued to advance, and yet his strange companion did not make his appearance. The young n.o.bleman judged that he could not be far, indeed, for once or twice he heard the bushes above him rustle, while a stone or two rolled down into the bottom of the valley; and he thought he distinguished Leon's voice murmuring also, as if talking to himself. At length there was a clear footfall heard coming down the steepest part of the mountain, and in another moment the stranger stood once more by Bernard de Rohan's side.

As he came near, he threw off the cloak which he had hitherto worn, and cast it into one of the bushes, saying to it as he did so, "I shall find you, if I want you, after this is over."

His appearance now, however, left Bernard de Rohan scarcely a doubt in regard to the nature of his usual occupation. When his cloak was thus thrown off, his chest and shoulders were seen covered with that peculiar sort of corslet or brigantine, which originally gave name to the bands called Brigands. His arms were free, and unenc.u.mbered with any defensive armour; and over his right shoulder hung a buff baldric, suspending his long, heavy sword. This was not all, however; another broad leather belt and buckle went round his waist, containing, in cases made on purpose for them, a store of other weapons if his sword blade should chance to fail; among which were those long and formidable knives which, in the wars of the day, were often employed by foot soldiers to kill the chargers of their mounted adversaries. Daggers of various lengths were there also, together with the petronel or large horse pistol, which was so placed, however, as to give free room for his hand to reach the hilt of his sword.

In this guise he approached Bernard de Rohan, saying, "You see, baron, I am better prepared for this encounter than you are. You have nothing but your sword: you had better take one of these," and he laid his finger upon the b.u.t.t of a petronel.

"My sword will not fail me," replied Bernard de Rohan, with a smile. "I see, indeed, you were better qualified to judge whether these were brigands or not than I was."

"They are no brigands," replied the other; "brigands know better what they are about;" and, as he spoke, he threw away his hat, and tied up his long black hair, which fell over his ears and shoulders, with a piece of riband. "I cannot very well understand," he continued, in the same low tone, "what has become of your people and the priest: I could see nothing of them from the height, and I almost fear that these villains, fearing pursuit, have broken down the little wooden bridge behind them, at what we call the Pas de Suzzette, where the stream falls into the river."

"Hark!" said Bernard de Rohan. "They are coming up;" and, grasping his sword, he took a step forward.

"Wait," said the brigand, laying hold of his arm. "Give your people the last minute to attack them in the rear. By Heavens, they ought to have been here by this time."

The sound of horses' feet and human voices now became distinct from below, and oaths and imprecations were still heard loud and vehemently, as the captors hurried on their prisoners.

"Get you on, get you on!" exclaimed one voice: "don't you see how quietly your lord is going."

"He is not my lord," cried another, in a faint tone. "I am wounded and hurt, and cannot go faster."

"Get on, get on, villain!" reiterated the other voice. "You would fain keep us till the fools behind mend the bridge and come up with us. Get on, I say! If he do not walk faster, p.r.i.c.k him with your dagger, Bouchart. We will skin him alive when we get to the end of the march!

Drive it into him!"

A sharp cry succeeded: Bernard de Rohan could bear no more, but, bursting away from the hand of the brigand, he sprang into the road.

Leon followed him at once; but, even before he was down, the young cavalier's sword had stretched one of the advancing party on the ground, and was crossed with that of another.

"Hold, hold!" shouted the loud voice of the brigand. "Hold, and throw down your arms! Villains, you are surrounded on all sides!"

For a moment their opponents had drawn back; but the scanty number of the a.s.sailants was seen before Corse de Leon uttered what seemed so empty a boast.

"Cut him down," cried a voice from behind, "cut him down!" and one of the hors.e.m.e.n spurred on towards him. Another, at the same moment, aimed a blow at the head of Bernard de Rohan from behind, which struck him on the shoulder and brought him on his knee, while a shot was fired at the brigand, which struck his cuira.s.s, but glanced off harmless.

"It is time we should have help," said Corse de Leon, in a cool tone; and while, with his right hand, he drew a pistol from his girdle, levelled it at the head of one of those who were contending with Bernard de Rohan, fired, and saw the man fall over into the valley below, with the left he applied a small instrument to his lips, producing a loud, long, shrill whistle, which those who have heard it will never forget.

It is like the scream of a bird of prey, but infinitely louder; and the moment it proceeded from the lips of the brigand, similar sounds echoed round and round from twenty different points above, below, and on the opposite side.

When Bernard de Rohan staggered up from his knee, the scene was completely changed. Corse de Leon stood no longer alone, but with three stout men by his side armed to the teeth. The fragments of rock and large stones that were rolling from above showed that rapid footsteps were coming down the side of the mountain. Up from the rocky bed of the stream five or six other men were seen climbing with the activity of the chamois or the izzard, and, to complete the whole, the whistle was still heard prolonged up the valley, while, from the same side, the ear could distinguish the galloping of horse coming down with furious speed.

The party of the adversary, however, was large. All were well armed; all evidently accustomed to strife and danger; and had all apparently made up their minds to struggle to the last. They accordingly made a fierce charge along the road, in order to force their way on; and the strife now became hand to hand, and man to man, while, above the contest, the loud voice of the brigand leader was heard shouting, "Tie them! Tie them! Do not kill them if you can help it!"

Nor was his a.s.sumption of certain success unjustified. Every moment fresh numbers were added to the party of Corse de Leon. The adversaries were driven back along the road, dragging the prisoners with them some way, but were stopped by fresh opponents, dropping, as it were, from the mountains, and cutting them off in their retreat. They were still struggling, however, when at length eight or nine hors.e.m.e.n, the sound of whose approach had been heard before, reached the scene of combat; and then, seeing that farther resistance was vain, several of them uttered a cry of "Quarter! quarter! We will throw down our arms."

"Here, take my sword, Doland," said the brigand leader to one of his men. "Wipe it well, and go back for my hat and cloak, which I left among the bushes by the cross of St. Maur. Well, baron," he continued, turning to Bernard de Rohan, "I am afraid you have to regret the want of your armour: that was a bad blow on your head."

"No, it struck my shoulder," replied Bernard de Rohan, "where my buff coat is doubled. There is no great harm done."

"You had better keep behind," continued Corse de Leon, in a low voice.

"I wished not to have displayed my men at all had it been possible to avoid it, but it could not be helped. However, you had better not show yourself with us. It may make mischief."