Garrick's Pupil Part 26

"Saul hath slain a thousand, but David hath slain ten thousand! Glory be to the G.o.d of hosts! _Deus Sabaoth! Alleluia!_"

Outside the house the tumult of the horrible fete had waned and expired in a vague, distant wail, intermingled with the dying shrieks of the partic.i.p.ants.

Slowly Esther raised herself upon her elbow; with eyes dilated with horror she watched the two men as they pursued and evaded each other, leaping like stags in the ruddy smoke which was neither day nor night.

She fancied herself the dupe of some hideous nightmare.

Neither of the combatants seemed aware of her presence, since both held their sight riveted upon the tips of their swords as if their very souls had pa.s.sed into the glittering points. But Lebeau was weakening, and he knew it. His grasp trembled and his sight grew dim from minute to minute. A cold sweat pearled upon his brow, which he attempted to wipe away with a swift gesture of his left arm; but the beads grew more abundant, dripped from his eyebrows to his eyelids, and obscured his vision. His weary feet struck the furniture; already had he stumbled once; a sort of vertigo caused surrounding objects to whirl about him.

It was death!... Then in sheer desperation he thrust out blindly.

Esther saw the two men run each other through, fall almost one on top of the other, roll heavily over upon the floor, and lie motionless. Again she lost consciousness, and for a time no sound disturbed the silence of the chamber save the chanting of the mad woman.

However, Lebeau raised himself, and strove to collect his ideas and strength. He was losing great quant.i.ties of blood, but the welfare of Esther was the only clear thought which remained amidst the baleful giddiness which had invaded his brain. Save Esther! But how? Bear her away in his arms? He could not do it. Had he even the strength left to crawl to the stairs, drag himself down and through the alley in search of help? Yes, there was no alternative. But in the mean time would not the fire reach her in its swift course? Would not the smoke asphyxiate the poor child? Stimulated by this alarming thought, the unhappy man began to drag himself by his bruised and bleeding hands. Every now and then he was forced to pause, exhausted, fainting, believing that the end had come. "Esther!"--that name alone revived him. His daughter! his child! No, he would not leave her to die like that. As for himself, what mattered it? But _she_, so young, so beautiful,--she, for whom life was so full of promise! Thus he advanced step by step, lowering himself from stair to stair amidst the most atrocious agony.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

But when he reached the foot of the stairs he discovered that the wind had closed the door which Lord Mowbray had left open. He stretched out his hand and tried to raise himself upon his knee. He could not do it.

Horrible mockery! So simple an action,--to raise a latch, thrust open a door; but he could not do even so much, he who had accomplished such extraordinary feats! And salvation lay beyond that door, for it seemed to him--or was it an illusion?--that he caught the sound of voices in the court. He strove to raise his voice, but no sound issued from his lips. Then he sank down in an inert ma.s.s, his body obstructing the door which he would have given the last hour of his existence to open!

Lebeau had not been mistaken; there were voices in the alley-way.

Perhaps, had he been able to attempt one supreme effort, he would have recognized the voice of his compatriot, the surgeon of the poor, and that of Francis Monday.

In fact, they were continuing their work of succoring the unfortunates, upon which they had been engaged for several hours. They had relieved more than one wounded sufferer, had s.n.a.t.c.hed from the flames more than one wretch lying at death's door. They pursued their course like soldiers of duty and humanity, soiled with blood and mud, their eyelashes singed, their clothing in disorder. Many times had the flying bullets grazed them. Many times had they been insulted and menaced. They had seen one of their number crushed by the fall of a blazing wall, but their zeal had not been dampened; and it was Frank who, in a sort of heroic frenzy, now urged on his companions.

It was rumored in the crowd that behind the flaming ruins of the Langdale establishment was a group of dwellings, now wrapped in fire, which had not been evacuated by the inhabitants.

In seeking a way to reach these unfortunate sufferers, Levet and Frank had gained the alley-way upon which Lebeau's little house was situated.

Suddenly Frank paused.

"Did you hear that?" he exclaimed.

"What?"

"I don't know.--A voice--singing--in this house!"

They held their breath, and the psalmody of old Maud distinctly reached the ears of the surgeon and his followers.

"There is someone in there!" cried Levet, "and the roof is already on fire! They must be raving maniacs!--What ho! Within there!"

He walked around the house, endeavoring to attract the attention of the inmates.

"Can you not see that the fire is gaining upon you?" he cried. "Come out, quick!"

But there was no reply, only in the interim of silence they again heard the old fool's monotonous chanting, the very words even being audible.

"We must save them at any cost!" exclaimed Levet. "Come, comrades!"

They tried to force the door, but as it resisted their efforts they supposed it must be locked.

"To the window!" said Frank.

With a blow of his elbow he shattered the gla.s.s, and, inserting his hand through the fracture, adroitly opened the cas.e.m.e.nt. It was one of the talents taught him by his early instructors, the river thieves.

Then, springing upon the window ledge, he entered the chamber, followed by Levet.

"One dead already!" cried the surgeon. "Great Heaven, it is Lebeau! No, he still breathes! Hand me a lantern, gentlemen!"

He was already upon his knees beside the dying man.

At the name of Lebeau a sudden thought crossed Frank's mind. If the man he had sought high and low had been found in this sordid retreat, perhaps he was close upon the solution of the enigma. Hastily he sprang up the steep steps of the little stairway,--so hastily that he slipped in the tracks left by Lebeau's bleeding hands. Upon the landing of the second floor an unexpected enemy lay in wait for him; a jet of smoke and flame, issuing from the wide-open door, scorched his face and nearly suffocated him. With his hands upon his eyes he attempted to rush through, but tripped over a pair of legs extended upon the floor.

"Still another body!" he thought with horror.

Upon his knees he felt his way with difficulty up to the face of the dead. It was Lord Mowbray who lay there upon his back, his hair burned to a crisp, his features blackened but still set in that last defiant grimace.

Frank had seen enough and was about to recoil to the door, when it seemed to him that in a corner of the chamber he descried a human figure lying upon a bed.

Gathering all his energy, he darted thither.

Esther!--it was she!

"Help!" he cried; "help! Levet!"

The surgeon answered the call with several men, but they were arrested by the terrible current of scorching air which traversed the chamber from the window to the door.

"She is dead, and I will die with her!"

Such was the only thought that filled Frank's distracted brain. In despair he threw himself upon the bed, murmuring, "Esther, my beloved!"

And even in that awful moment when his lips touched that still warm cheek the supreme contact was one of ineffable sweetness. Knotting his arms about the object of his love, who had not been granted the opportunity to love him, the poor boy bade farewell to life.

But simultaneously a voice, scarcely more than a sigh, murmured in his ear, "Save me!"

In an instant he was upon his feet. With a vigor of which he would not have believed himself capable a moment before, he raised the girl in his arms and sprang with her through the belt of igneous smoke.

CHAPTER XVII.

HORACE AND SHAKESPEARE.

The sun was already high above the horizon when at last Lebeau opened his eyes. The brilliant light of dawn, penetrating the chamber where he lay, wounded his sight, and his heavy eyelids drooped. After a moment he raised them painfully and perceived the kindly face of the surgeon of the poor bending above him.

"Do you recognize me?" he asked.

The sufferer made an affirmative sign and feebly faltered Levet's name.