Lord Montagu's Page Part 32

Edward left him, sent the lackey to his room, went to the kitchen, where two of the stable-men were sleeping by the fire, roused one of them to give him a lamp, and retired to the chamber where young Abbot was snoring powerfully. But Edward was ill at ease. He thought that the precautions Lord Montagu had spoken of and ordered were not sufficient: he thought--as all men think, and young men especially--that his own plan was the best. However, he drew the charges of his pistols, loaded and primed them afresh; and then, sitting down at the window, where he had a view of the court-yard on one side and on the other a glance into the pa.s.sage through the door which he left ajar, he waited, without moving a limb, for the coming of morning.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

At a quarter to four o'clock, Edward Langdale shook young Abbot by the shoulder and with some difficulty succeeded in waking him. "Quick, Abbot! get up!" he said. "Go down and saddle your horse: but make no noise. Do you understand me? No more than an owl. Go down and saddle your horse: do you hear? but be quiet about it."

"What is in the wind?" said the other.

"Nothing to you: but do as you are bidden," answered Edward, and took his way to Mr. Oakingham's room. Here he had more difficulty, for the door was locked or bolted, and he had to make some noise before the good gentleman would open it.

"Why, what is the matter?" asked Oakingham. "Is the house on fire? It is quite dark."

"Here, sir, light your lamp," said Edward. "My lord has changed his mind, and is going to set out directly. You will be left behind if you do not make haste."

Oakingham swore a little; but Edward did not stay to listen, gave him his lamp, and turned toward the rooms of the servants, which lay at the end of the pa.s.sage over the kitchen. The last chamber but one had been a.s.signed to the two blacksmiths, and, as Edward was approaching quietly that where the lackey and the groom were housed, the shorter of the Savoyards, roused by the noise at Mr. Oakingham's door, put his head out.

Edward walked on quietly, and, when he was abreast of the man, said, with an easy air, "You had better get your clothes on. You will be wanted presently."

"Which horse?" asked the man, at once.

"All but one," said Edward; and, knocking hard at the door of the servants' room, he ordered them in a loud tone to rise and come to the stable. The blacksmith was still at the door; but Edward caught him by the neck and pushed him back into the room, saying, "Pardie! did I not tell you to get dressed?"

The man staggered back, and before he recovered himself the young gentleman had caught the key from the inside and locked the door. He did not, however, call Lord Montagu till he had gone out into the yard and ascertained that the windows of the rooms above were too high to admit of any one dropping to the ground.

A good deal of bustle succeeded: the servants of the house were roused, valises and bags were packed in haste, and horses were saddled; but before five o'clock all was ready for departure, and Edward approached Lord Montagu as he stood before the inn, saying, "Shall I let out that blacksmith? He is safely locked in his room, and hammering at the door as if he would knock it down. Well he left his tools in the stable, or he would have been out by this time."

"Let him out, to-be-sure," said Montagu: "he may follow now if he will.

He will keep us too late."

"His horse is saddled for him, my lord," replied Edward: "by your leave he shall come with us, or I will come with him." And, running up-stairs, he opened the door of the man's room.

The worthy was at first inclined to make some noisy remonstrance, but Edward stopped him in an instant. "No noise!" he said, seeing that he was dressed. "Go down-stairs. Get on your horse and put him between me and the groom. If you take a step too quick or a step too slow, you will have a ball through your head in one minute. We know where your comrade is gone, and all about you: so pray Heaven we meet with no misadventure on the road, for, if we do, this is the last morning you will ever see."

The man looked scared out of his senses, and descended the stairs with a face as pale as ashes.

The thundering command of Lord Montagu, "Mount, quick! Stand by him, Ned!" did not serve to allay his apprehensions; and perhaps no man of the whole party more sincerely prayed that they might pa.s.s uninterrupted than he did.

The score was paid, and the party rode off, with Montagu and Mr.

Oakingham at the head, and Edward Langdale, the groom, and the blacksmith between them, in the rear. It was still quite dark; but the eye of the pretended Savoyard roamed round and round from the very commencement of the journey. At the end of a few minutes he began to talk, and apparently desired to exculpate himself from any complicity in his fellow-countryman's proceedings; but Edward stopped him sternly, saying, "Silence! Your tongue makes as much noise as the crack of a pistol, and I will silence it if you say one word more." He put his hand to his holster as he spoke, and the man ceased instantly.

"I have pistols too, sir," said the st.u.r.dy groom.

"He will need no more than I give him," said Edward. "I do not miss, Hobbs."

"No, I know you don't, sir," said the groom: "at least I never saw you."

"Let us keep quiet," said Edward; "but be prepared. If we should be stopped, and this fellow's comrade is there, you take care of him. I will settle with this one."

The first part of the way led up hill, through a pretty close wood skirting the road on either hand; but at the top of the ascent the little party issued forth upon some open, undulating ground, which the insecurity of border-life had kept a good deal out of cultivation. The darkness was now growing pale at the approach of day, and the gray outline of a chateau or two, with a village church some two miles off, and what seemed a considerable town a good deal farther, might be seen to the right and left. All was still and silent till the light clouds overhead began to turn rosy, and then a lark started up close beside the road and went quivering and trilling into the sky.

"My heaven! they are going very slow," murmured the blacksmith, in a low voice and with a groan. "Why does not the English lord go faster, young gentleman? Does he not know this part of the country is full of brigands?"

"He knows there are brigands about," answered Edward; "but we know how to deal with them."

Edward, however, did think that his lord might have ridden faster; and, as they began to descend into another hollow with a thick wood at the bottom, he scanned every thing around and below with a keen, quick eye, but could discover no moving thing.

When they issued out of the wood at the other side of the dell, the sun was apparently just rising above the horizon, and the whole sky was full of purple and gold; and, when they topped the hill above, a wide but not very interesting landscape was before them. Some high blue hills were seen at a distance on the right; but nearer, on both sides, were several chateaux and villages, with scattered woods and ponds and rivers, all glowing like rubies in the red light. The human race, too, began to bestir itself to daily toil, and several men, evidently peasants, were seen leading horses or driving oxen to the field. But the view was soon cut off from their sight by broken banks tumbled about in strange confusion, interspersed with patches of scrubby firs, and here and there a low hovel looking picturesque in its very wretchedness.

The agitation of the blacksmith seemed every moment increasing, and once he even attempted to drop behind; but the stern words from Edward, "Keep up!" accompanied by a motion of the hand toward his pistols, soon brought the man to a line with his companions. At length, after they had ridden on for about half a mile or more, he burst forth, saying, "I want to speak to the lord: he is going too slow. Let me speak to him."

"Well," said Edward, "ride on by my side." And, drawing a pistol as a precaution, he spurred forward. The country indeed just there would have greatly favored the fellow's escape, for it was rough, uneven, and covered with stunted trees and bushes, while a small pine wood flanked the road on the left or French side, and a _borne_, or landmark, with a low wall, lay on the other. The highway was wide, however; and Edward felt certain that if the smith endeavored to gallop off he could bring him from his horse before he got out of sight. In a moment they were by the side of Lord Montagu, who checked his horse to hear what they wanted.

"My lord, my lord," said the man, in very good French, but with great agitation, "ride fast. Take good advice, and ride fast, or they will catch you."

"Who will catch me?" asked Montagu, eyeing him.

"I do not know who, exactly," said the man, "Brin, my comrade, has the names of so many on his list. The cardinal gave it to him before we set out. But ride fast, for G.o.d's sake! There may be time yet."

"Good advice, truly," said Montagu. "Use your spurs, gentlemen. We will inquire further hereafter, if we can,--if we can: ay, if we can, indeed!

Draw up your horses. Let the rest come forward. Stir not from that spot, man, or I blow your brains out. Now, who are these before us?"

From a little bridle-path which issued from the wood and crossed the highroad some twelve or fourteen men, well armed and mounted, had just ridden out and barred the way.

"Let us charge them at once, my lord," said Edward. "Some of us may cut through. You shall, if I live."

"Look behind, Ned," said Lord Montagu.

Edward turned his head in the direction to which Montagu had glanced a moment before, and saw a party not much less numerous than that in front, with the blacksmith who had disappeared the night before amongst the foremost. His pistol was in his hand, and the temptation was irresistible. He threw his arm across his chest without wheeling his horse, pulled the trigger, and the traitor fell from his saddle with a bullet in his shoulder.

At the same moment the English groom, who had ridden up at Lord Montagu's first order, caught the other unhappy man by the arm, and had the muzzle of his weapon at his ear; but Montagu put it aside before he could fire, saying, "Vain! vain! Edward, you are always too ready with those pistols."

"I have given him but his due, my lord, if I die for it the next minute," said Edward. "But see: that tall man with the white scarf is waving it to your lordship."

"Stay here, and I will go forward a little," said Lord Montagu. "There is nothing for it but to surrender quietly. They are five to one."

"Let me go with you, my lord," said Edward.

"Well, then, put up your pistol," answered Montagu. "The rest stay here."

Montagu took off his hat in answer to the signal made by the other party, and rode forward with Edward, while a gentleman of some five or six and thirty, who seemed the leader of the larger body gathered across the road, advanced alone to meet the English n.o.bleman. As they neared each other, the two saluted courteously; and throughout their interview the utmost politeness manifested itself, instead of the ferocious roughness which in a French picture of this very incident is represented as characterizing the demeanor of M. de Bourbonne.

The French gentleman spoke first. "I have the honor of wishing you good-day, my Lord Montagu," he said. "Your lordship is here somewhat earlier than we expected you."

"I am sorry I did not know, sir, that you are so matutinal in your habits," replied Montagu, somewhat superciliously; "otherwise I should have been here earlier still."

"Doubtless," answered the other. "But I need not now tell your lordship that, being later than you intended, it is useless to attempt to pursue your journey to-day."