Robert Tournay Part 10

He rode steadily on with the advancing day, pa.s.sing some travelers, none of whom he recognized. At noon he entered the village of Amand. Thence there were two roads to La Thierry. One, the more direct, led to the right over the hill; the other, to the left and along the river, was the longer but the better road. If his horse had been fresh, Tournay would have taken the short-cut, going over hill and dale at a gallop, but his tired beast decided him to choose the river road.

Toward the end of the afternoon he saw in the distance the spire of the church of La Thierry. He felt positive by this time that Gardin must have taken the upper road or he should have overtaken him before this, so rapidly had he traveled.

Every step of the way was familiar to him. Every bend in the river, every stone by the wayside was a.s.sociated with his boyhood. Just before he came to the village of La Thierry, he left the main road and turning to the right followed a lane that made a short cut to the chateau de Rochefort. It was about two miles long and in summer was an archway of shaded trees and full of refreshment. Now the branches were bare, and the flying feet of his steed sank to the fetlocks in the carpet of damp, dead leaves.

As he approached the chateau on the right he heard a sound that caused him to draw rein in consternation. Springing from his horse he fastened him to a sapling by the wayside, seized his pistols from his holsters, and hurried forward on foot. At every step he took the sounds grew louder. There was no mistaking their meaning.

The lane terminated about a hundred yards from the house. Tournay threw himself flat upon the earth and working his way to a place where he was sheltered by the overhanging branches of some hemlock trees, looked cautiously out toward the chateau.

An attack was being made on the chateau at the front. Half a score of men armed with clubs and various other weapons were endeavoring to break down the iron-studded oaken door. A gigantic figure with shirt open to the waist, whom Tournay recognized as the blacksmith of La Thierry, was dealing blow after blow in rapid succession with a huge sledge-hammer.

The door, which had been built to resist a siege during the religious wars of the sixteenth century, groaned and trembled under the blows of the mighty Vulcan, but still held fast to the hinges. A man, standing a little apart from the others and directing their movements, Tournay knew to be Gardin. Seeing that they were making little headway, the latter ordered his men to desist, evidently to form a more definite plan of attack. In the mean time Tournay was working along the line of the hemlocks towards the rear of the house. Suddenly three or four men detached themselves from the attacking party and approached him. Fearing that he had been discovered, he lay perfectly quiet. He soon saw that they were making for the trunk of a st.u.r.dy ash-tree which had been recently felled by a stroke of lightning. This they soon stripped of its branches, and hewing off about thirty feet of the trunk they bore it back on their shoulders with shouts of triumph. Here was a battering-ram which would clear a way for them.

Seeing them again occupied with the a.s.sault, Tournay continued to crawl cautiously along the edge of the grove until he was in a line with the rear buildings. Here were the servants' rooms, the business offices of the estate, and at one corner the office and the rooms occupied by Matthieu Tournay, the steward. This, the oldest part of the building, was covered thick with old ivy, by whose gnarled and twisted roots he had climbed often, when a boy, to the little chamber in the roof which had been his own. From this he knew well how to reach the apartments in the main building. The repeated blows of the ash-tree against the doors warned him that they could not resist the attack much longer. He climbed quickly up until he reached the well-known little window under the eaves. Dashing it open with his fist he swung himself into the attic-room which he had known so well in his boyhood.

CHAPTER V

A BROKEN DOOR

"Open, in the name of the Republic."

No answer.

Crash! Crash! Blow followed blow upon the door of the old chateau.

"Again, citizens, once again! Bra.s.seur! bring f.a.gots, we'll fire the old trap. Forgons, take this sledge-hammer in your big hands. At it, man!--we'll soon have the lair of the aristocrats down about their ears.

Defour, Haillons, and you others, take up that ash-tree and let it strike in the same place as before."

Amid a pandemonium of shouts and curses the blows continued to rain upon the iron-studded outer door of the chateau de Rochefort, and the tree, used as a battering-ram, poised upon the shoulders of a dozen men, was dashed forward with a force that made the hinge-bolts start from their sockets and the oaken panels fill the air with splinters.

The besieged had taken refuge in one of the large salons on the second floor. There were only four of them: an old man, a priest, and two women.

"They have nearly forced the outer door," cried old Matthieu Tournay, wiping the perspiration from his brow with trembling hand.

"But the inner one," exclaimed the priest, laying his hand on Matthieu's arm. "How long will that keep them off?"

"They'll break through that easily. Nothing can save us now; we are all lost," replied the old man.

"May the Blessed Virgin preserve us from the monsters," murmured the priest, looking towards the woman.

Edme de Rochefort stood near the window. The terrifying sounds which echoed through the lower part of the building would have unnerved her, had not anger supplied a sustaining force, and brought a deep flush to supplant the pallor on her cheeks. The spirit of her race was roused within her. Had she been a man she would have charged alone, sword in hand, against the mob; but being only a woman she stood waiting the issue. Trembling slightly, she stood with her small hands clenched and white teeth firmly set. At her elbow was Agatha, her maid. She was paler than her mistress, but it was not for herself she feared. Her devotion made her fear more for Edme's safety than for her own.

As the shouts redoubled Edme saw the two old men turn, pallid and trembling, towards her.

"They seek me only," she said resolutely. "Why should I endanger your lives by remaining here? I will go to meet them!"

"You shall not go!" cried Agatha, placing herself in front of her mistress.

"It can only be a question of a few minutes at the longest. Let me go, Agatha."

"Listen," cried the priest, "they are in the house! They are coming up the stairway now!"

"No," cried old Matthieu, "I can still hear them down there in the courtyard."

Nevertheless a quick footstep was heard approaching from the corridor.

The portieres at the further end of the room were thrown apart, and a man, wearing the uniform of the Republican army, entered the salon.

"Robert!" came in a glad cry from old Tournay's lips.

Tournay did not wait to exchange words with his father, but approached Edme.

"I have ridden from Paris to prevent your arrest, mademoiselle; thank G.o.d I have arrived in time. Only do as I direct and I shall be able to save you."

"How are we to know that we can trust you?" she said, looking at him fixedly.

He caught his breath as if unprepared for such a question. "You _must_ trust me, mademoiselle."

Edme laughed scornfully.

The color which rose to his cheek showed that her laugh cut even deeper than her words.

"Mademoiselle," he began, "if you"--

She interrupted him pa.s.sionately. "Are not those men below who seek to destroy my chateau your friends? They have been clamoring for admittance in the name of the Republic." And she looked significantly at the tricolored c.o.c.kade in his hat.

"And because I am a Republican and wear the uniform of the nation do you really think that I could have anything in common with those ruffians? You do me great injustice; I am here with one object, to protect this household."

Edme continued to look steadily at him.

"You say nothing, mademoiselle. You condemn me by your silence. I will prove to you how deeply you wrong me even if it take my life. I would give that gladly only to prove it to you. But there is more than my life at stake. There is your safety--and the safety of these, your servants.

My father--mademoiselle!"

Edme's look softened a little as she answered:--

"Although since you left our house we have only thought of you as an enemy, still I believe your father's son would be incapable of treachery. As for saving us, listen to the mob below. One man is helpless against so many."

"I can save you--but it depends upon yourself. No matter what I may say or do, you must trust me implicitly."

"Oh! do as my son says, mademoiselle!" interposed old Matthieu, joining his hands beseechingly. "For your sake, for all our sakes, listen to and be guided by him."

"If you can really protect us in this dreadful hour I should be guilty if I risked the lives of those who have faithfully remained at my side, by refusing your aid. I will follow your father's and your counsel,"

said Edme quietly.

"Is the door of the salon barred?" asked Tournay of his father.