The Black Wolf's Breed Part 14

After some period--hours or minutes, I knew not what, they were interminable--Broussard spoke again. His voice sounded sharp, and unnaturally loud.

"Who are you, and what do you want? I know you; is it Nortier, Lireux?"

"Hush, fool; dost not hear the tread of Vauban's men outside? You will call them down upon us with your babble." They were stamping through the pa.s.sage as I spoke.

"Ah!" and there was a world of relief and incredulity in his lowered tone. "Then you are not with Vauban? Who are you?" I made no reply.

During the long period of absolute and profound silence which succeeded I had much time to reflect. I judged myself to be in an unused chamber, which, if square, would be about thirty feet across--calculating by the distance from the diagonal corner--if in fact Broussard lay in the corner. There was but one opening, for I could hear the wind stirring outside, and no draught came in. Did the window open on the street, or on an inner court? There was no way of telling.

If it be true that men live in thoughts rather than in deeds, if the changing phantoms of our brain carve deeper impressions than the petty part we play with our hands, then, indeed, that frightful night would form by far the longest chapter in the history of my soul.

Darkness, darkness, darkness; quivering, soundless, hopeless night.

I feared to move, and no sense save that of hearing bound me to the world of living men. Living men? What place had I among them?

A party of drunken roisterers staggered beneath the window, singing coa.r.s.e songs and bandying their brutal jests. But it no longer interested me to know the window opened on a street.

Hour after hour plodded in slow procession through the night.

Outside, a clattering vehicle whipped past over the rough stones, the driver swearing at his team. The day was coming at last. Did I wish it?

Perhaps the night were kinder, for it at least obscured my misery. I almost prayed the darkness might last.

CHAPTER XI

THE DAWN AND THE DUSK

Gradually, so gradually the change could hardly be observed, the inner grating of the window became visible; the c.h.i.n.ks between the edges of the stones a.s.sumed distinctness. A ghostly blotch grew into a fact upon the floor. A leaden hue, less black than the pulsing sea of ink about it, spread and spread, lighter and lighter, until it invaded the dim recesses where I stood. My hand became once more a tangible possession, unreal and grim, yet all my own. The opposite wall loomed up, my utmost frontier of the domain of certainty. Dimmer, darker, more obscure, the door, a vast unexplored cavern gathered to itself the hobgoblins of evil and gave them shelter. As still as the creeping on of day we two men stood, glaring at each other and watched it come.

Exactly when I began to see him I could not say. Every impulse and vital force of nature centered in my eyes, and they fastened themselves upon that one irregular shadow in the opposing corner which slowly--oh!

with such agonizing slowness--a.s.sumed the outlines of a man. My fascinated gaze wandered not nor wearied. When in the moist light of the morning I clearly saw Broussard, haggard, pale and sunken-eyed, watching me thirty feet away, it seemed that I had seen him all the night.

No detail of his dress or manner but I observed. There was a scar across his forehead, fresh and bleeding a bit. A contusion rather. He had probably struck the door-facing as he rushed in. Yes, it bled. A few drops had trickled down his nose; there hung one, quite dry, from his brow. Precisely beneath this there were some dozen or so upon the floor. All could have been covered by my hand. Like myself Broussard had not moved throughout that awful night. G.o.d, how I pitied him.

With such a weight of treason on his soul. And yet, looking back, the night was less awful than the coming day, far more merciful than the hideous night which followed it. With the sun Broussard heartened up, and first broke the silence.

"Who are you comrade, and what do you here?"

I was at a loss for reply. I had no faith in him, yet even a rotten stick might serve to get me out.

"I am trapped like yourself, and feared you all the night. G.o.d in Heaven what a long night it was."

Broussard had no words, his convulsive shudder expressed more than mine.

"Do you know how to get out of here?" I asked.

"Not I, except by the door, or the window," looking at that.

"I'll try the door," he continued, smiling the treacherous smile of the tiger. I remembered so well the first day he showed his teeth aboard ship. The man well knew I recognized him, he had heard me speak his name, and I feared if he found the door open he would shut me up again, and escape.

"I'll test the door softly and see what is outside," and he moved as if to put his thought in action.

"Hold on, not yet; methinks I'll try that door myself." I could see he had the same idea which had occurred to me, for he demurred.

"No, my fine sir; why you and not I?"

"Because I know you, sir, and fear to trust you."

"Verily, you have honorable intentions yourself to suspect me so readily." He was bent on engaging me in conversation, so he might perhaps recognize me from my voice. The mask still hid my features, and the entire difference in my mode of dress made recognition almost impossible. The puzzled expression of a half recollection still rested on his face as I continued:

"I do not merely suspect you, I know you for a traitor--nay do not clap your hand upon your sword until I have finished. You have now in your possession certain traitorous dispatches which were given you by one Carne Yvard in exchange for others which you brought over with you in a vessel called le Dauphin. Ah, you begin to pale and shrink, and well you may--"

"You lie!" he shrieked, convincing me I had made a home thrust.

"Softly, softly, have a care, lest you call the Marshal's bloodhounds down upon us. The dispatches with the purple seals, which you brought with such care from Biloxi, have been taken from Yvard, and are now in safe keeping for the King. The lie, ah, well, I'll pardon that for the while. You can not leave here, and I have ample time for avenging my honor after I have had the pleasure of your delightful conversation."

He leaned morosely against the wall, staring at me, as I went on.

"Now listen to me quietly. You have those dispatches upon your person.

I want them, and by all the G.o.ds I will have them. If I have to kill you for them, then so much the worse for you. Now listen. Give me those dispatches. We will then get out of here together, and once outside, I will give you full four and twenty hours. That time elapsed, I will turn the dispatches over to the authorities. If you can escape with your miserable life so be it. Do you agree?"

"I have no dispatches," he sullenly replied, "and who are you to dare charge me with treason?"

There was no ring of real resentment in his tones, though he strove manfully to simulate offended and indignant innocence. It was necessary to keep him in ignorance for a while, because I feared he might set upon me, and being really an excellent swordsman, the issue of conflict would be doubtful. But the weightier reason lay in the fact that the clash of steel might draw down upon us the occupants of the house. Here I was in a much worse plight than he, though he knew it not. For whether those occupants were the friends of Broussard or the Marshal's men, the result would be equally fatal to me. A man must think quickly under such straits, and I was sorely put to it for some device. No stratagem would be too base to use against such a villain, for he would not hesitate to knife me in the back.

"Broussard, let us understand each other here and now. You know me. I am Placide de Mouret," removing my mask and looking him sternly in the eye.

"Great G.o.d, de Mouret!"

"The same. I am your master at the swords, and you know it. Now turn out those papers." I had been quietly drawing my blade during this speech, as the dazed man tried to collect his senses, so I was ready while he still stood unprepared.

"Throw up your hands."

He mechanically obeyed; the discovery of his villainy had completely unmanned him.

"Now unbuckle your belt, and drop it to the ground." He did as he was bid.

"Kick it across the floor." The weapon was tossed out of his reach.

I walked up closer to him, and forced him to loose his coat that I might find the papers, and was rewarded by the discovery of a packet, much similar to that dropped by Yvard. It was sealed in such a manner it could not be opened, and bore no address. I removed the dagger from his hip, and having, as I thought, completely disarmed him, felt no further uneasiness. The man was thoroughly cowed, and never once raised his eyes to mine. Verily treason doth rob the stoutest heart of half its courage.

"Now do as I bid you, and I will keep my promise to let you go. And mind that you make not the slightest sound which may attract the soldiers."

"Ah, you fear the soldiers too?" he asked, vaguely trying to puzzle out why I should be afraid of those in whose service I was.

"It is not to our purpose to talk. I simply want the credit myself, and do not want to share it with those fellows out there. We must work to leave this place at once. Do you stand where you are."

I gathered up the scattered weapons and piled them all in one corner, farthest from the door, where I now proposed to set about getting free.