Historical Romances: Under the Red Robe, Count Hannibal, A Gentleman of France Part 13

She raised her hand to her head. After a long pause: "The frogs!" she muttered, "they croak! I cannot hear."

And then, to my surprise, she turned suddenly on her heel, and walked over the bridge, leaving me there. For a moment I stood aghast, peering after her shadowy figure, and wondering what had taken her.

Then, in a minute or less, she came quickly back to me, and I understood. She was crying.

"M. de Barthe," she said, in a trembling voice, which told me that the victory was won. "Is there nothing else? Have you no other penance for me?"

"None, Mademoiselle."

She had drawn the shawl over her head, and I no longer saw her face.

"That is all you ask?" she murmured.

"That is all I ask--now," I answered.

"It is granted," she said slowly and firmly. "Forgive me if I seem to speak lightly--if I seem to make little of your generosity or my shame; but I can say no more now. I am so deep in trouble and so gnawed by terror that--I cannot feel anything much to-night, either shame or grat.i.tude. I am in a dream; G.o.d grant it may pa.s.s as a dream!

We are sunk in trouble. But for you and what you have done, M. de Barthe--I--" she paused and I heard her fighting with the sobs which choked her--"forgive me.... I am overwrought. And my--my feet are cold," she added suddenly and irrelevantly. "Will you take me home?"

"Ah, Mademoiselle," I cried remorsefully, "I have been a beast! You are barefoot, and I have kept you here."

"It is nothing," she said in a voice which thrilled me. "My heart is warm, Monsieur--thanks to you. It is many hours since it has been as warm."

She stepped out of the shadow as she spoke--and there, the thing was done. As I had planned, so it had come about. Once more I was crossing the meadow in the dark to be received at Cocheforet a welcome guest.

The frogs croaked in the pool and a bat swooped round us in circles; and surely never--never, I thought, with a kind of exultation in my breast--had man been placed in a stranger position.

Somewhere in the black wood behind us--probably in the outskirts of the village--lurked M. de Cocheforet. In the great house before us, outlined by a score of lighted windows, were the soldiers come from Auch to take him. Between the two, moving side by side in the darkness, in a silence which each found to be eloquent, were Mademoiselle and I: she who knew so much, I who knew all--all but one little thing!

We reached the house, and I suggested that she should steal in first by the way she had come out, and that I should wait a little and knock at the door when she had had time to explain matters to Clon.

"They do not let me see Clon," she answered slowly.

"Then your woman must tell him," I rejoined. "Or he may say something and betray me."

"They will not let our woman come to us."

"What?" I cried, astonished. "But this is infamous. You are not prisoners!"

Mademoiselle laughed harshly. "Are we not? Well, I suppose not; for if we wanted company, Captain Larolle said he would be delighted to see us--in the parlour."

"He has taken your parlour?" I said.

"He and his lieutenant sit there. But I suppose we should be thankful," she added bitterly. "We have still our bed-rooms left to us."

"Very well," I said. "Then I must deal with Clon as I can. But I have still a favour to ask, Mademoiselle. It is only that you and your sister will descend to-morrow at your usual time. I shall be in the parlour."

"I would rather not," she said, pausing and speaking in a troubled voice.

"Are you afraid?"

"No, Monsieur; I am not afraid," she answered proudly. "But--"

"You will come?" I said.

She sighed before she spoke. At length, "Yes, I will come--if you wish it," she answered; and the next moment she was gone round the corner of the house, while I laughed to think of the excellent watch these gallant gentlemen were keeping. M. de Cocheforet might have been with her in the garden, might have talked with her as I had talked, might have entered the house even, and pa.s.sed under their noses scot-free.

But that is the way of soldiers. They are always ready for the enemy, with drums beating and flags flying--at ten o'clock in the morning.

But he does not always come at that hour.

I waited a little, and then I groped my way to the door, and knocked on it with the hilt of my sword. The dogs began to bark at the back, and the chorus of a drinking-song, which came fitfully from the east wing, ceased altogether. An inner door opened, and an angry voice, apparently an officer's, began to rate some one for not coming.

Another moment, and a clamour of voices and footsteps seemed to pour into the hall, and fill it. I heard the bar jerked away, the door was flung open, and in a twinkling a lanthorn, behind which a dozen flushed visages were dimly seen, was thrust into my face.

"Why, who the fiend is this?" cried one, glaring at me in astonishment.

"_Morbleu!_ It is the man!" another shrieked. "Seize him!"

In a moment half a dozen hands were laid on my shoulders, but I only bowed politely. "The officer, my friends," I said, "M. le Capitaine Larolle. Where is he?"

"_Diable!_ but who are you, first?" the lanthorn-bearer retorted bluntly. He was a tall, lanky sergeant, with a sinister face.

"Well, I am not M. de Cocheforet," I replied; "and that must satisfy you, my man. For the rest, if you do not fetch Captain Larolle at once and admit me, you will find the consequences inconvenient."

"Ho! ho!" he said, with a sneer. "You can crow, it seems. Well, come in."

They made way, and I walked into the hall, keeping my hat on. On the great hearth a fire had been kindled, but it had gone out. Three or four carbines stood against one wall, and beside them lay a heap of haversacks and some straw. A shattered stool, broken in a frolic, and half a dozen empty wine-skins strewed the floor, and helped to give the place an air of untidiness and disorder. I looked round with eyes of disgust, and my gorge rose. They had spilled oil, and the place reeked foully.

"_Ventre bleu!_" I said. "Is this conduct in a gentleman's house, you rascals? _Ma vie!_ If I had you, I would send half of you to the wooden horse!"

They gazed at me open-mouthed. My arrogance startled them. The sergeant alone scowled. When he could find his voice for rage--

"This way!" he said. "We did not know a general officer was coming, or we would have been better prepared!" And muttering oaths under his breath, he led me down the well-known pa.s.sage. At the door of the parlour he stopped. "Introduce yourself!" he said rudely. "And if you find the air warm, don't blame me!"

I raised the latch and went in. At a table in front of the hearth, half covered with gla.s.ses and bottles, sat two men playing hazard. The dice rang sharply as I entered, and he who had just thrown kept the box over them while he turned, scowling, to see who came in. He was a fair-haired, blonde man, large-framed and florid. He had put off his cuira.s.s and boots, and his doublet showed frayed and stained where the armour had pressed on it. But otherwise he was in the extreme of last year's fashion. His deep cravat, folded over so that the laced ends drooped a little in front, was of the finest; his great sash of blue and silver was a foot wide. He had a little jewel in one ear, and his tiny beard was peaked _a l'Espagnole_. Probably when he turned he expected to see the sergeant, for at sight of me he rose slowly, leaving the dice still covered.

"What folly is this?" he cried wrathfully. "Here, Sergeant!

Sergeant!--without there! What the--! Who are you, Sir?"

"Captain Larolle," I said, uncovering politely, "I believe?"

"Yes, I am Captain Larolle," he retorted. "But who, in the fiend's name, are you? You are not the man we are after!"

"I am not M. Cocheforet," I said coolly. "I am merely a guest in the house, M. le Capitaine. I have been enjoying Madame de Cocheforet's hospitality for some time, but by an evil chance I was away when you arrived." And with that I walked to the hearth, and, gently pushing aside his great boots which stood there drying, kicked the logs into a blaze.

"_Mille diables!_" he whispered. And never did I see a man more confounded. But I affected to be taken up with his companion, a st.u.r.dy, white-mustachioed old veteran, who sat back in his chair, eyeing me, with swollen cheeks and eyes surcharged with surprise.

"Good evening, M. le Lieutenant," I said, bowing gravely. "It is a fine night."

Then the storm burst.

"Fine night!" the captain shrieked, finding his voice again. "_Mille diables!_ Are you aware, Sir, that I am in possession of this house, and that no one harbours here without my permission? Guest!

Hospitality! Lieutenant--call the guard! Call the guard!" he continued pa.s.sionately. "Where is that ape of a sergeant?"