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"_Peste! Je ne parle pas anglais_!" snapped the damsel.
"Very well then, mademoiselle, I'll try you in French," said Tom. And in very bad French indeed, scarcely even the French of Dr. Watson's school for the sons of gentlemen, Pembroke repeated his remarks.
"_Je ne comprend pas_," said the young woman.
Tom essayed his explanation again, but whether the youthful female in the window could or would not understand, she kept repeating in the midst of his every sentence "_Je ne parle pas anglais_," till Tom lost his temper.
"_Bien_, my fine girl," he exclaimed at last; "I am going to enter this house. If you won't open the door, I will batter it down. Understand?
_Comprenez-vous_?"
"_Je ne parle pas anglais_."
"As you will." He raised the fence-rail again and made as if to ram the door. "_Ouvrez la porte_! Do you understand that?"
"_Bete_!" cried the girl, withdrawing her head and slamming down the window.
Tom waited a moment to see if his threats had been effective, and was relieved by hearing the bar within removed and the key turned in the lock. The door was opened, and the young woman stood on the sill and volleyed forth a series of French execrations that made Tom wince, though he did not understand a word she was saying. Despite her protests, he brushed her aside and stalked into the house. He went rapidly from room to room, upstairs and down, from garret to cellar, the girl following him with her chorus of abusive reproach. She might have held her peace, thought Tom, for within half-an-hour he was convinced that there was not a person in the House on the Dunes save himself and his excited companion. All he discovered for his pains was that old Mrs.
Meath was also among the missing.
"_Ou est Madame Meath_?"
"_Madame Meath! Que voulez vous? Je ne connais pas Madame Meath_...." And infinitely more of which Tom could gather neither head nor tail.
Satisfied at last that there was nothing to be gained by further search or parley with the woman, he thanked her civilly enough and went out. He unhitched his horse, vaulted into the saddle, and dashed back, as fast as his beast could be urged to carry him, to the Inn. He was certain now that the schooner held the secret of his vanished friends, and it occurred to him to play their own game and turn the tables on Monsieur the Marquis de Boisdhyver.
Arrived at the Inn, Tom turned his horse, white with lather, over to Jesse; made sure that the Marquis was in the bar; and then, with the help of Manners, rapidly made a few preparations.
It was about five o'clock when, his arrangements completed, he returned to the bar, where Monsieur de Boisdhyver was quietly taking his tea. Tom bowed to the old gentleman, seated himself in a great chair about five feet away, and somewhat ostentatiously took from his pocket a pistol, laid it on the arm of his chair, and let his fingers lightly play upon the handle. The old marquis watched Pembroke's movements out of the corner of his eye, still somewhat deliberately sipping his tea. Manners, meanwhile, had entered, and stood respectfully in the doorway, oddly enough also with a pistol in his hand.
Suddenly Monsieur de Boisdhyver placed his teacup on the table, and leaning back in his chair, surveyed Tom with an air of indignant astonishment.
"Monsieur Pembroke," he said, "to what am I to attribute these so unusual attentions? Is it that you are mad?"
"You may attribute these unusual attentions, marquis, to the fact that from now on, you are not a guest of the Inn at the Red Oak, but a prisoner."
"Ah!" exclaimed the Marquis with a start, as he made a spasmodic motion toward the pocket of his coat. But if his intention had been to draw a weapon, Tom was too quick for him. The Marquis found himself staring into the barrel of a pistol and heard the unpleasant click of the trigger as it was c.o.c.ked.
The old gentleman paled, whether with fright or indignation, Tom was not concerned to know. "You will please keep perfectly still, marquis."
"Monsieur Pembroke," exclaimed the old gentleman, "_C'est_ abominable, outrageous, _Mon Dieu_, what insult!"
"Manners," said Tom, "kindly search that gentleman and put his firearms out of his reach."
"Monsieur, _c'est extraordinaire_. I protest."
"Quick, Ezra," replied Tom, "or one of us is likely to know how it feels to have a bullet in his skin. Up with your hands, marquis."
Monsieur de Boisdhyver obeyed perforce, while Manners quickly searched him, removed a small pistol from his coat pocket and a stiletto from his waistcoat, and handed them to Tom.
"I thought as much," said Pembroke, slipping them into his pocket. "Now, sir, you will oblige me by dropping that att.i.tude of surprised indignation."
"Monsieur," said the Marquis, "What is it that you do? Why is it that you so insult me?"
"Monsieur, I will explain. You are my prisoner. I intend to lock you up safely and securely until my friend and his sister return, unharmed, to the Inn. When they are safe at home, when Madame de la Fontaine has taken her departure from the House on the Dunes, and when the _Southern Cross_ has sailed out of the Strathsey, we shall release you and see you also safely out of this country. Is that clear?"
"_Mais, monsieur_--"
"I am quite convinced that you know where Nancy is and what has happened to Dan. As my friends are probably in your power or in the power of your friends, so, dear marquis, you are in mine. If you wish to regain your own liberty, you will have to see that they have theirs. Now kindly follow Manners; it will give him pleasure to show you to your apartment.
There you may burn either red or green lights, and I am sure the s...o...b..rds and rabbits of Lovel's Woods will enjoy them. After you, monsieur."
"Sir, I refuse."
"My dear marquis, do not make me add force to discourtesy. After you."
The Marquis bowed ironically, shrugged his shoulders, and followed Manners up the stairs. He was ushered into a chamber on the west side of the Inn, whose windows, had they not been heavily barred, would have given him a view but of the thick tangles of the Woods.
"I trust you will be able to make yourself comfortable here," said Tom.
"Your meals will be served at the accustomed hours. I shall return myself in a short time, and perhaps by then you will have reconciled yourself to the insult I have offered you and be prepared to talk with me."
With that Tom bowed as ironically as the Marquis had done, went out and closed the door, and securely locked and barred it outside. Monsieur de Boisdhyver was left to his reflections.
CHAPTER XIII
MADAME DE LA FONTAINE
For several hours after his return to the little cabin Dan had ample leisure in which to think over his extraordinary interview. There could be no doubt that the conspirators, for such he had come to call them to himself, were determined and desperate enough to go to any lengths in accomplishing their designs. Whether his suspicions and activity in seeking Nancy had precipitated their plans, his unexpected capture seemed to embarra.s.s his captors as much as it did himself. At least, he gathered this from Madame de la Fontaine's conversation. Whatever might be the motive of the lady's proposed confidence, poor Frost could see nothing for it but to await their disclosure and then seize whatever advantage they might open to him. Notwithstanding the fact that Dan had cautioned himself against trusting the flattery of his charming visitor, notwithstanding that he told himself to be forewarned, even by his own suspicions, was to be forearmed, he was in reality unconscious of the degree to which he had proved susceptible to the lady's blandishments, if indeed she had employed blandishments and had not merely given him the evidence of a good heart upon which his youth and naivete had made a genuine impression.
Dan's experiences with girls up to this time had been limited. His emotional nature had never, as yet, been deeply stirred. But no one could be insensible to Madame de la Fontaine's beauty and charm, and her delightfully natural familiarity; and, finally, her fleeting kiss had seemed to Dan but evidence of a warm impulsive heart. To be sure, with all the good will in the world, he could not acquit her of being concerned in a mysterious plot--indeed, had she not admitted so much?--though, also, he must in justice remember that he knew very little of the nature of the plot in question.
As he paced restlessly back and forth the length of his prison, he tried to think clearly of the acc.u.mulating mystery. Was there a hidden treasure and how did the Marquis know about it? What part had the _Southern Cross_ to play with its diabolical looking captain, and what could have become of Nancy? Then why had Madame de la Fontaine--but again his cheek would burn and remembrance of the bewitching Frenchwoman blotted out all else.
At half-past twelve Captain Bonhomme appeared again. This time he invited Dan to partake of luncheon with him on the condition once more of a parole. And Dan accepted. He and the Captain made their luncheon together, attended by the faithful Jean; and, though no mention was made to their anomalous position, the meal was not altogether a comfortable one. Captain Bonhomme asked a great many questions about the country, to which Frost was inclined to give but the briefest replies; nor, on his part, did he show more disposition to be communicative in response to Dan's questions about France. Jean regarded the situation with obviously surly disapproval. When the meal was finished, Frost was conducted back to his little cabin.
About two o'clock he saw the small boat put off for sh.o.r.e, and glancing in that direction, he was relieved to see Madame de la Fontaine already waiting upon the beach. Within half-an-hour he was again in her presence in the Captain's saloon, where their conversation had taken place in the morning.
The lady received him graciously. "Ah! monsieur Dan, I fear you have had a weary day of it; but it was impossible for me to return sooner."
"It is very kind of you to return at all," replied Dan, gallantly enough.
"Now, Monsieur, you are anxious, I know, that I keep my promise of the morning."
"Most anxious," said Dan.
"Without doubt. Come here, my friend, sit near me and listen attentively to a long story."
"You have consulted with the Marquis?"