The Eagle of the Empire Part 17

"With such men what resources does not France possess?"

"And did the Emperor give you the cross?" eagerly asked the girl.

"It was forgot until a few days since. When I recovered I rejoined the regiment. To take the duty of an officer suddenly ill I happened to be stationed on service near the Emperor at Nogent. When others were urging him to make terms, I, though a young soldier, ventured to express myself to the contrary."

"And then?"

"His Majesty pardoned the liberty, recognized me, gave me his own cross, made me a Major on his staff."

"And the Eagle?"

"It is still carried at the head of what remains of the Fifth-of-the-Line," said the young man proudly.

"When we have taken your Emperor we will do away with those Eagles, and after we restore her rightful king to France we shall give her back her ancient flag of golden lilies," said the Russian.

"Precisely," said Marteau sharply. "When you have taken the Emperor you may do all that. The men who have made France so great under him will care little what you do, monsieur, under such circ.u.mstances."

"And why will they be so indifferent, Monsieur Jean?" asked the Countess curiously.

"They will be dead, mademoiselle, and their Emperor, too, unless G.o.d preserve his life for some future use."

"Happy," said the young girl, "is the man who can inspire such devotion, monsieur. Although I have been trained differently I think that----"

What the Countess thought was never said for at that instant the door at the farther end of the great room was thrown open suddenly with a violent crash, and into the apartment came crowding the score of villains and scoundrels who had been imprisoned below stairs. They had managed to break out in some way and had returned to the great hall to seize again their captives and to wreak their vengeance upon their betrayer. They had got at the wine and were inflamed with drink as well as revenge and savage pa.s.sion. They had realized, of course, that some enemies were outside but they had not clearly grasped the situation. All they thought of at the time were the people in the great hall. They came crowding through the big doorway, several of them handling pistols and all of them shouting savage and fearsome cries of revenge and triumph.

Instantly the pistols were presented, the triggers pressed and half a dozen bullets swept through the room. Marteau had seen the first movement of the door. He had divined what had happened. Before the pistols had been leveled he was by the side of the Countess. The table at which she sat was a huge and heavy one. With one movement he hurled her, chair and all, to the floor, with the other he threw the table on its side in front of her. One of the bullets grazed his cheek, the others swept harmlessly through the room. He seized from another table two of his remaining pistols and discharged them squarely into the face of the crowding ma.s.s at the other end of the room at point-blank range.

The sounds of the shots still echoed when he cried out:

"The knife, Countess. Cut the bonds of the prisoners. We must fight here for our lives and your honor."

The Countess Laure was quick to understand.

"You are safe now. They have no more shots. Hasten," he urged, reaching down a hand and a.s.sisting her to her feet.

He clutched the barrels of his pistols thereafter and hurled them directly into the faces of the infuriated men. Five of them were down and his prompt action had given the people in the room a little respite.

"Gentlemen," cried Marteau, sweeping out his sword and stepping into the open s.p.a.ce between the prisoners and the overturned table on one hand and the renegades on the other, "quick, take your swords for the honor of the Countess and for your lives."

The man who led the renegades had some idea of military tactics. He spoke a few sharp words and half a dozen of them backed out of the room, entered the outer hall and ran around to the door on the side of the apartment which gave access to the great hall. The little band of defenders retreated into a corner near the fireplace, which was raised a step or two above the floor of the room.

Meanwhile Laure had cut the lashings of the Russians, the Cossacks, and the Englishman. They staggered to their feet numb from their long bondage, but inspired by the frightful imminence of their peril they seized their swords and presented a bold front to the two-sided enemy.

There was one pistol left charged. Marteau handed that to the girl.

"The last shot, mademoiselle," he said meaningly, "for yourself if----"

"I understand."

"If you could only get to the door," growled the Russian commander, "my men outside would make short work of----"

"It is impossible until we have dealt with these villains," said Marteau. "On guard!" he cried as the marauders suddenly leaped forward.

The big Englishman, burly, tremendously powerful for all his advancing years, dropped his sword for a moment, picked up one of the heavy oak chairs and hurled it full into the face of the larger body at the further end of the room. One stumbled over it, two others fell. The next moment both parties were upon the little group. In their haste, in their drunken excitement, the marauders had not thought to recharge their pistols. With swords, scythes and clubs they fell on the six men. Their numbers worked to their disadvantage. Three of the men surrounding the woman, the Frenchman and the two Russian guardsmen, were accomplished swordsmen. The Cossacks were not to be disdained in rough-and-tumble fighting and the Englishman was a valiant ally. Their racial antagonisms were forgot in their common danger and the deadly peril of the woman.

The swords of the soldiers flashed as they thrust and parried. The Cossacks, less skillful, strove to beat down the attackers by sweeping slashes--not the best method for such close fighting. One Cossack was pierced through the breast by a thrust from a renegade and another was cut from his neck almost to his heart by a blow from a scythe. One of the Russian officers was wounded, fell to his knees and was dispatched.

The Englishman was. .h.i.t by a billet of wood and dazed. Marteau and the other Russian were still unharmed. But it was going hard with them.

In fact, a fierce blow on his blade from a bludgeon shivered the weapon of the Frenchman. A sword was aimed at his heart. There was a blinding flash, a detonation, and the man who held it staggered back.

The Countess, the last pistol almost touching the man's body, had pulled the trigger. Marteau seized the sword of the man who had menaced him. The next instant the chateau was shaken by a terrific roar. The Russians outside having constructed a rude bomb had blown up the door.

For a second the combat ceased. The hall was full of smoke. From outside came shots, shrieks, cries, loud curses and groans, cheers, French and Russian voices, the galloping of horses, words of command.

The French were there.

"To me," shouted Marteau at the top of his voice. "France!"

The first to heed the call was young Pierre. He descended the hall, watched the conflict a moment and, having possessed himself of a club, battered down the man nearest him, unsuspecting an attack from the rear, then ranged himself by the side of the surviving Russian and the Frenchman. He did not come through scathless, however, for one of the renegades cut him fiercely as he pa.s.sed. He stood erect by an effort of will but it was evident he could now add little to the defense. The Russian took the pistol from his hand. The next second the great hall was filled with shouting figures of soldiers. Into the smoke and confusion of the room came Napoleon.

CHAPTER XI

AN EMPEROR AND A GENTLEMAN

"The Emperor!" cried Marteau.

The Russian officer recognized Napoleon as quickly as the other. The Emperor advanced, the soldiers crowding after threw themselves upon the renegades immediately, while the Emperor strode forward alone. The young Russian n.o.ble was a quicker witted man than his countrymen ordinarily were. He saw a chance to end everything then and there, to do his country a great service, although his life would be forfeited instantly in the doing of it.

"My chance," he shouted, raising Pierre's pistol.

The shot was an easy one. It was impossible to miss. Marteau had stepped forward. The thrill in the tones of the man's voice attracted his attention. One glance and he saw all. He threw himself in front of the Emperor just as the Russian pressed the trigger. At the same moment the Countess Laure, who stood nearest him, struck up the Russian's arm. The bullet buried itself in the ceiling above.

"Thank G.o.d!" cried Marteau as the sound died away and he saw the Emperor standing unharmed.

Napoleon's keen eye had seen everything.

"It is this lady," said he gracefully, "to whom my safety is due. And I am not unmindful that you interposed your own body between the bullet and your Emperor."

"Your Majesty," cried Marteau, now that his Emperor was safe, fain to discharge his duty, "I have tidings of the utmost importance. I have held this chateau and detained this convoy the Russians had captured.

It contains powder, food, guns----"

"I know," said the Emperor. "It comes in the nick of time."

"And I have to report, Sire, that the corps of Wittgenstein, Wrede and of the Field-Marshal Blucher, himself, are strung out at long intervals to the eastward of Champaubert. They have no idea of your proximity."

"Are the divisions in supporting distance of one another?"

"No, Sire. Olsuvieff's division lies isolated at Champaubert. As to the divisions of Sacken and Yorck I think----"

"I have already received information concerning them," said the Emperor, "from your friend, Bullet-Stopper. He should be here."