Roland Cashel Volume Ii Part 68

Questions, and demands for explanation, pressed on every hand, their countrymen gathering round the antagonists on either side, both of whom maintained for some minutes a perfect silence. The Duke was the first to speak. "Gentlemen," said he, "you have heard an expression addressed to me which no Frenchman listens to without inflicting chastis.e.m.e.nt on the speaker--I do not ask--I do not care in the least--who this person may be--what his rank and position in life; I am ready to admit him to the fullest equality with myself. It only remains that I should satisfy myself of certain doubts, which his own manner has originated. It may be that he cannot call me, or any other gentleman, to account for his words."

Linton's face twitched with short convulsive jerks as he listened, and then, crossing the room to where the Duke stood, he struck him with his glove across the face, while, with a very shout of pa.s.sion, he uttered the one word, "Coward!" The scene became now one of the wildest confusion. The partisanship of country surrounded either with a group, who in loud tones expressed their opinions, and asked for explanations of what had occurred. That some gross insult had been put upon Linton was the prevailing impression; but how originating, or of what nature, none knew, nor did the princ.i.p.als seem disposed to afford the information.

"I tell you, Frobisher," said Linton, angrily, "it is a matter does not admit of explanation."

"_Parbleu_, sir! you have placed it out of the reach of such," said an old French officer, "and I trust you will feel the consequences."

The chaos of tongues, loud in altercation and dispute, now burst forth again, some a.s.serting that the cause of quarrel should be openly declared at once, others averring that the opprobrious epithet applied by Linton to the Duke effectually debarred negotiation, and left no other arbitrament than the pistol. In the midst of this tumult, where angry pa.s.sions were already enlisted, and insolent rejoinders pa.s.sed from mouth to mouth, a still louder uproar was now heard in the direction of the _salon_, and the crash of a breaking door, and the splintering noise of the shattered wood, overtopped the other sounds.

"The commissaire de police!" cried some one, and the words were electric. The hours of play were illegal,--the habits of the house such as to implicate all in charges more or less disgraceful; and immediately a general rush was made for escape,--some seeking the well-known private issues from the apartment, others preparing for a bold attempt to force their pa.s.sage through the armed followers of the commissary.

Every avenue of escape had been already occupied by the gendarmes; and the discomfited gamblers were seen returning into the room crestfallen and ashamed, when the commissary, followed by a knot of others in plain clothes, advancing into the middle of the chamber, p.r.o.nounced the legal form of arrest on all present.

"I am a peer of France," said the Duc de Marsac, haughtily. "I yield to no authority that does not carry the signature of my sovereign."

"You are free, Monsieur le Duc," said the commissary, bowing respectfully.

"I am an English gentleman," said Linton, stepping forward. "I demand by what right you presume to detain me in custody?"

"What is your name, sir?" asked the commissary.

"Linton!" was the brief reply.

"That's the man," whispered a voice from behind the commissary; and, at the same instant, that functionary approached, and laying his hand on the other's shoulder, said,--

"I arrest you, sir, on the charge of murder."

"Murder!" repeated Linton, with a sneer that he could not merge into a laugh. "This is a sorry jest, sir."

"You will find it sad earnest!" said a deep voice.

Linton turned round, and straight in front of him stood Roland Cashel, who, with bent brows and compressed lips, seemed struggling to repress the pa.s.sion that worked within him.

"I say, Frobisher, are you omitted in the indictment?" cried Linton, with a sickly attempt to laugh; "or has our buccaneering friend forgotten to stigmatize you for the folly of having known him?"

"He is in _my_ custody," said a gruff English voice, in reply to some observation of the commissary; and a short, stout-built man made a gesture to another in the crowd to advance.

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"What! is this indignity to be put upon me?" said Linton, as he saw the handcuffs produced, and prepared to be adjusted to his wrists. "Is the false accusation of a pirate and a slaver to expose me to the treatment of a convicted felon?"

"I will do my duty, sir," said the police officer, steadily. "If I do more, my superiors can hear of it. Tom, put on the irons."

"Is this your vengeance, sir?" said Linton, as he cast a look of ineffable hate towards Cashel; but Roland made no reply, as he stood regarding the scene with an air of saddest meaning.

"You knew him better than I did, Charley," said Linton, sneeringly, "when you black-balled him at the yacht club; but the world shall know him better yet than either of us,--mean-spirited scoundrel that he is."

"Come away, sir," said the officer, as he placed himself on one side of his prisoner, his fellow doing the same at the other.

"Not till I see your warrant," said Linton, resolutely.

"There it is, sir, all reg'lar," said the man; "signed by the secretary of state, and attested by the witness."

"The rascality is well got up," said Linton, trying to laugh, "but by Heaven they shall pay for it!" These words were directed to where Roland stood, and uttered with a concentrated hate that thrilled through every heart around.

As Linton was led forth, the commissary proceeded to arrest the different individuals present on the charge of gambling in secret. In the midst of the group was Rica, standing pale with terror, and overcome by the revelations he had listened to.

"I will be responsible for this gentleman's appearance," said Cashel, addressing the commissary. "There is no need to subject him to the insult of an arrest."

"He can only be liberated by a bail bond in the presence of the judge, sir. You can accompany me to the court, and enter into the recognizances, if you will."

"Be it so," said Cashel, bowing.

Rica made a sign for Roland to approach him. He tried to speak, but his voice was inarticulate from faint-ness, and the only audible sound was the one word "Maritana."

"Where?" said Cashel, eagerly.

Rica nodded in the direction of a small door that led from the chamber, and Cashel made a gesture of a.s.sent in answer.

With headlong speed Roland traversed the corridor, and entered the antechamber at the end of it. One glance showed him that the room was empty, and he pa.s.sed on into the chamber where so lately Linton had spoken with Maritana. This, too, was deserted, as was the bedroom which opened into it. Hastening from place to place, he called her name aloud, but no answer came. Terrified by a hundred fears, for he well knew the rash, impetuous nature of the girl, Roland entreated, in tones of wildest pa.s.sion, "that she might come forth,--that her friends were all around her, and nothing more to fear." But no voice replied, and when the sound of his own died away, all was silent. The window of the dressing-room was open, and as Roland looked from it into the street beneath, his eye caught the fragment of a dress adhering to the hook of the "jalousie." It was plain now she had made her escape in this manner, and that she was gone.

Too true! Overcome by terror--her mind distracted by fears of Linton--without one to succor or protect her, she had yielded to the impulse of her dread, and leaped from the window! That small rag of fluttering gauze was all that remained of Maritana.

Rica was to hear these sad tidings as he was led away by the commissary, but he listened to them like one whose mind was stunned by calamity. A few low murmuring words alone escaped him, and they indicated that he felt everything which was happening as a judgment upon him for his own crimes.

Even in his examination before the judge, these half-uttered self-accusings broke forth, and he seemed utterly indifferent as to what fate awaited him. By Cashel's intervention, and the deposit of a large sum as bail for Rica's future appearance, his liberation was effected, and he was led away from the spot unconscious of all around him.

As Cashel a.s.sisted the weak and tottering man through the crowded pa.s.sages of the court, he felt his arm gently touched by a hand, at the same instant that his name was uttered. He turned hastily, and saw at his side a woman, who, youthful and still handsome, bore in her appearance the signs of deep poverty and still deeper sorrow. Her dress had once been rich, but now, from time and neglect, was disfigured and shabby; her veil, partly drawn across her face, was torn and ragged, and her very shoes were in tatters. A more sad-looking object it were difficult to conceive, and in the hurried glance Roland bestowed upon her, at a moment when all his thoughts were intent upon other cares, he believed she was one entreating charity. Hastily drawing forth his purse, he offered her some money, but she drew proudly up, saying, "This is insult, sir, and I have not deserved it."

Cashel started with amazement, and drawing closer, stared eagerly at her.

"Great Heaven!" cried he, "is this possible? Is this--"

"Hush!" cried she. "Let me not hear my name--or what was once my name--spoken aloud. I see now--you did not know me, nor would I have brought myself to the shame of being recognized but for _his_ sake.

_He_ is now before the tribunal, and will be sent to prison for want of bail."

Cashel motioned her not to leave the spot; and having safely placed Rica in his carriage, returned to the court.

By the guarantee of his name, and the offer of any moneyed security which might be required, Cashel obtained permission for Lord Charles Frobisher to go free; and then hurrying outside, communicated the tidings to her who stood trembling with fear and anxiety.

With tearful eyes, and in a voice broken by sobs, she was uttering her thanks as Lord Charles joined them.

"This, then, was _your_ doing?" said he, staring coldly at her.

"Say, rather, it was your own, my Lord," said Cashel, sternly.

"Oh, Charles! thank him--thank him," cried she, hysterically. "Friends have not been so plenty with us, that we can treat them thus!"

"Lady Charles is most grateful, sir," said Frobisher, with a cold sneer. "I am sure the show of feeling she evinces must repay all your generosity." And, with, this base speech, he drew her arm within his, and moved hastily away. One look towards Cashel, as she turned to go, told more forcibly than words the agony of her broken heart.