Loe raamatut: «The Chevalier d'Auriac», lehekülg 12

I lifted my hat for an instant with a silent prayer to God for help, and then shook up Couronne. Ere the last notes of the bells had gone I was under the limes. At first I could see nothing; there was no one there; and my heart grew cold at the thought that some danger had overtaken my dear one.

'Madame!' I called out. 'It is I – d'Auriac'

Then a figure in a grey mantle stepped out from the shadow of the trees, and I sprang from the saddle and held out my hand.

'I knew it was you, chevalier,' she said, 'but I wanted to make certain and waited until you spoke.'

'I hope I have not kept you waiting?'

'Indeed no. I had but just come across from the Louvre when you arrived.'

'Then you did not come riding?'

'How could I? I have been in the Louvre, and am expected to be at the coucher of Madame Catherine in a half-hour,' and she laughed slightly.

The thought of that smothered neigh flashed through my mind like lightning.

'We must trust ourselves to Couronne,' I said. 'Palin will be at the Porte St. Denis. There is no time to waste; come!'

Then it seemed that she hesitated, and, flinging back her hood, looked me full in the face. In the moonlight I saw her white as marble, and she suddenly put out both her hands, saying:

'I trust you utterly, d'Auriac'

Man is not made of stone, and I loved this woman as my life. There was that in her voice, in the pitiful appeal of its tones, that broke down all my false pride. I cannot say how it happened, but in a moment my arm was round her waist, and I drew her towards me, she nothing resisting.

'Claude, I love you. Give me the right to protect you.'

What she said is for my ears alone; and then she lay still and passive in my arms, her head resting on my shoulder.

So for a time we stood in silence, and then I kissed her.

'Come, dear,' I said, 'and with the morning we shall be safe.'

Of her own accord she put her arms about my neck and pressed her lips to mine, and then I lifted my darling to Couronne's saddle bow.

Had I but taken de Belin's offer! If Jacques were but with me then!

My foot was in the stirrup, my hand on the reins, when there was a sudden flash, a loud report, and my poor horse fell forward, floundering in the agony of death.

I just managed to snatch Claude from the saddle, and staggered back, and then with a rush a half-dozen men were on us. They were masked to a man, and made their attack in a perfect silence; but as my sword flashed out of my scabbard I recognised the tall figure of the Capuchin, and thrust at him fiercely, with a curse at my folly in coming alone.

Things like these take a short time in doing, and should take a shorter time in telling. I ran one man through the heart, and with a gasp he fell forwards and twisted himself like a snake round my blade. Then someone flung a cloak over my head – I was overborne by numbers and thrown. Two or three men held me down; there was an iron grip at my throat, and a man's knee pressed heavily on my chest. I made a frantic effort to free myself: the covering slipped from my face, and I saw it was the Capuchin kneeling over me, a dagger in his hand. His mask had fallen from him, and his face was the face of Ravaillac!

I could not call out, I was held too tight; and the villain lifted his poniard to strike, when a voice – the voice of de Gomeron – said:

'Hold! We will put him out another way.'

'This is the quickest and surest,' answered Ravaillac; but the reply was brief and stern.

'Carry out my orders. Gag him and bring him with us.'

'To Babette's?'

'To Babette's. There is the oubliette. Quick, there is no time to lose.'

'Oh, ho!' laughed Ravaillac, 'that is good! M. le Chevalier will be able to drown his sorrows under the Seine; but he will take a long time to die!'

'You villain!' I gasped, but like lightning the gag was on me, and then I was blindfolded. I could see nothing of Madame, though I tried my utmost to get a glimpse of her. Then I was bound hand and foot, and lifted by a couple of men. After being carried a short space I was thrust into a litter, and as this was done I heard a faint cry from Claude; and I groaned in my heart, for I was powerless to help.

The litter went forward at a jolting pace, and from the echo of hoofs around it I gathered that there were at least a dozen mounted men about me. Sometimes I heard a brief order given by de Gomeron, and the sound of his voice made me certain that Madame was with us. If so, there might still be hope, and I lay still and tried to follow our route by the movement of the party, but I could see nothing; and after a time my brain began to get confused, for we turned this way and that, up side streets, down winding roads, until the thing became impossible.

Once we were challenged by the watch, and my captor gave answer boldly:

'M. de Gomeron, of the Marshal's Guards, with prisoners for the Chatelet; let us pass in the King's name.'

I heard the words and strove to call out, but the gag was too secure. At any rate, I had learned one thing – we were going in the direction of the Chatelet. Who, then, was Babette? I had heard the name once before, on the night that I lay wounded before La Fère, and an inspiration seemed to come on me, and I was certain that the night hag and de Gomeron's Babette were one and the same.

Then we jolted on for about another half-hour – we must have passed the Chatelet by this – when suddenly the litter took a sharp turn to the right, and after going a little way was put to the ground.

'Sacré nom d'un chien!' exclaimed one of my carriers, 'he is heavy as lead.'

'He will be light enough in a week or so,' answered someone else; and then I heard the creaking of hinges, and the litter appeared to be borne within a yard and was left there. After a half-hour or so I was dragged out, and I heard a woman's voice:

'This way, my lambs; the gentleman's room is below – very far below, out of all draughts;' and she laughed, with the same pitiless note in her voice that I had heard once before – and I knew it was the murderess.

Down a winding stair we went, and I remained passive, but mentally counted the steps and the turns. There were eighteen steps and three turns, at each of which there was apparently a door, and then we stopped. There was a jingling of keys, the harsh, grating noise of a bolt being drawn back, and Babette spoke again:

'Monsieur's apartment is ready – 'tis the safest room in the Toison d'Or.' Then I was flung in heavily as I was, and the door bolted behind me.

CHAPTER XV
THE HAND OF BABETTE

I lay for a time where I had been flung, overwhelmed by the disaster. Then a frenzy came on me, and, but for the gag in my mouth, I could have screamed out curses on my folly in allowing myself to be trapped like a wild cat. Now that I think of it, in the madness of those moments I did not pray to the God who had so often and so repeatedly helped me; yet in His mercy and goodness I was freed from my straits, as will be shown hereafter.

In the meantime I was so securely bound that it was all but impossible to move, and the bandage over my eyes prevented me from seeing anything. I writhed and twisted like a serpent on the wet flags where I lay, and in the violence of my struggles gradually moved the bandages, so that my eyes were at last set free, and then, exhausted by my efforts and half-choked by the gag, I became still once more, and looked around me. For all I could see I might have been as before – I was in blank, absolute darkness. Into the void I peered, but could make out nothing, though I could hear my own laboured breathing, and the melancholy drip, drip of water as it oozed from above me and fell in sullen drops on the slime below.

As I strained into the velvet black of the darkness, it came to me – some fiend must have whispered it – that I was blind. My mind almost ceased to work at the thought, and I remained in a kind of torpor, trying in a weak manner to mentally count the drops of water by the dull splashing sound they made in falling. Ages seemed to pass as I lay there, and the first sense of coming to myself was the thought of Claude, whom I had lost, and the quick agony of this made my other sufferings seem as nothing. There is a misery that words, at least such words as I am master of, cannot picture, and I will therefore say no more of this.

A little thing, however, now happened, and but for this I might have lain where I was until I died, so entirely impressed was I with the idea that I was sightless. In utter weariness I turned my head on one side and saw two small beads of fire twinkling about a yard or so from me. They were as small as the far-away stars, and they stared at me fixedly. 'This is some deception of the mind,' I thought to myself, when suddenly another pair of fiery eyes appeared; then there was a slight shuffling, and all was still. But it was the saving of me. Sight and hearing could not both deceive. I knew what they were, and I knew, too, that I was not blind. From that moment I began to regain possession of my faculties and to think of means of escape. In my vest pocket was a small clasp knife. If I could but get at that I could free myself from my bonds. That, at any rate, had to be the first step. I began to slowly move my arms up and down with a view to loosening the cords that bound me, but, after some time spent in this exercise, realised the fact that the ropes might cut through me, but that they would not loosen. Then it struck me, in my eagerness to be free, that I might get at the knots with my teeth, and by a mighty effort I raised myself to a sitting posture – only to remember that I was gagged, and that it was of no avail to think of this plan. There are those who will smile, perhaps, if their eyes meet this, and put me down in their estimation for a fool for my forgetfulness. That may or may not be, but I have written down exactly what happened.

Although the new position I had attained did not in any way advance me towards freedom, yet it gave me a sense of personal relief. I was able to raise my knees a little, and sitting down thus, with my body thrown a little forward, to ease the strain of the cords, I began to think and go over in my mind the whole scene of the tragedy from the beginning to its bitter end. I had no doubt as to the personality of Babette. I was not likely to forget her voice. I had heard it under circumstances that ought to have stamped it on my memory for all time, and if I had the faintest doubts on the matter, they were set at rest by the fact that she was so well known to de Gomeron – she probably had been a camp-follower on our side – and also by the still more damning fact that her house was known as the Toison d'Or. The name had been distinctly mentioned by her, and its meaning was clear to me when I thought of the dreadful scene over de Leyva's body.

As for de Gomeron, I knew him well enough to understand his game. The whole affair, as far as he was concerned, was a sudden and rapid resolve – that was clear. I argued it out in this way to myself, and, as I went on thinking, it was almost as if someone was reading out a statement of the case to me. It was evident that the free-lance was to the last moment in hopes that the King would yield to Biron's intercession on his behalf. When that was refused he may have had some idea of gaining his end by force, but was compelled to hurry his coup by the knowledge that he had obtained from his confederate or spy, Ravaillac.

It had worked out well enough for him. My disappearance, my dead horse – poor Couronne! – all these would point to me as the author of the abduction, and give de Gomeron the time he wanted to perfect his plans. The man I had run through would never tell tales, and, so far, the game lay in the Camarguer's hands.

And then about Madame. As I became calmer I saw that for his own sake de Gomeron would take care that her life was safe – at any rate for the present, and whilst there was this contingency there was hope for her, if none for me, as I felt sure that, what with the King and Madame's relatives of the Tremouille on one hand, and Sully and de Belin on the other, things would go hard, sooner or later, with de Gomeron, whatever happened to me.

By the time my thoughts had reached this point I was myself again, and the certainty with which I was possessed that Claude was in no immediate danger of her life gave me strength to cast about for my own liberation as the first step towards freeing her.

But my despair almost returned as I thought and thought, until my brain seemed on fire, without my efforts bringing me a ray of hope. I shuddered as I reflected that it was part of de Gomeron's scheme to let me die here. It could easily be done, and a few bricks against the wall would remove all traces of the living grave of d'Auriac. In my mental excitement I seemed to be able to project my soul outside my prison, and to see and hear all that my enemy was plotting.

I do not for a moment say I was right in every detail, but events showed that I was not far wrong; and it is a wonder to me that the learned men of our day have not dealt with this question of the mind, though, to be sure, it savours no little of those secrets which the Almighty in His wisdom has concealed from us, an inquiry into which is perhaps a sin – perhaps in some future time these things may be disclosed to us! Whether I am right or wrong, I know not. I have, however, set down faithfully what passed through my mind in those hours of agony.

Was I never to see the light again? Never to hear another human voice? Was I to come to my death in a long-drawn-out agony? Dear God, then, in mercy, strike me dead! So I prayed in my utter desolation; but death did not come, though its mantle of darkness was around me.

Hour after hour passed. I shifted my position, and, strange to say, slept. How long I slept I know not; but I woke stinging with pain, and found this was due to my being bound as I was, and in a little the agony became almost insupportable; and I was on the verge of going into a delirium, only righting my failing senses by a mighty effort of will.

I had lost all count of the time, but guessed it was advanced in the day by this; and my eyes had become so accustomed to the darkness that I could manage to see the faint outlines of the cell in which I was imprisoned. I tried to make out its extent with an idle and useless curiosity, and then, giving it up and utterly hopeless, leaned my head on my upraised knees, and sat thus waiting for the end.

I longed for death to come now – it would be a happy release from my pain.

Suddenly there came a grating noise as the bolts outside were moved. Then the door of the cell swung open with a groaning, and there was a blinding flash of light that, for the time being, deprived me of the powers of sight, though, with a natural instinct, I shut my eyes to the flash as it came.

Then I heard de Gomeron's voice saying, 'Remove the gag – I have something to ask Monsieur.'

As I felt two cold, hard hands fumbling with the knots of the gag, I managed to open my eyes, though the light still pained me, and saw the tall figure of the free-lance, his drawn sword in his hand, standing in the open doorway, and kneeling beside me was Babette. The hag caught the loathing in my glance, and laughed to herself as she wrenched at the knots, and de Gomeron, who was evidently in no mood to delay, hurried her efforts with a sharp 'Quick!'

'It is done,' she answered, and rose to her feet, swinging the silken bands of the gag she held in her hand.

'Then have the goodness to step back whilst Monsieur d'Auriac and I discuss the position.'

Babette did as she was bidden, muttering something, and de Gomeron, advancing a pace, addressed me —

'Monsieur, I have come to make you an offer, and I will not waste words. I am playing to win a desperate game, and I shall not hesitate to play any card to win. My offer is this. I ask you to sign a formal document, which I shall bring to you, holding me guiltless of any design against either you or Madame de la Bidache. In return I will set you free in ten days after you sign this paper. During that time you must consider yourself my prisoner; but you will be better lodged than now. Should you refuse to accept this offer, there is nothing left for me but to leave you here to die.'

He spoke in slow, measured accents, and the vault of the roof above me gave back the man's words in a solemn echo. The light of the lantern stretched in a long yellow shaft up the spiral stairway beyond the door, and, half in this light and half in shadow, stood the witch-like figure of Babette, leaning a little forward as if striving to catch each word that was spoken.

In the silence that followed the free-lance's speech I could almost hear the blood throbbing in my temples; and for the moment I was deprived of all power of words. It was not from fear, nor from any idea of accepting the offer, but a thought had come to my mind. I would oppose craft with craft, and meet the fox in the skin of a fox.

'Give me twenty-four hours to decide,' I answered, 'and free me from these cords. I cannot think for the pain of them.'

'Pardieu!' he laughed. 'The knots have been well tied; but twenty-four hours is a long time.'

'Yet you are willing to accommodate me for ten days, better lodged. Ventrebleu! M. de Gomeron! Do you think I can scratch my way out of this?'

He did not answer me, but stood for a while biting at the ends of his thick moustache. Then he suddenly called to Babette, 'Cut the cords.'

She came forward and obeyed. Words cannot convey the sensation of relief as the cords fell from me, but for the time being so numbed was I that I was powerless to move.

'You have your desire, monsieur,' said de Gomeron, 'and I await your decision. It will save me trouble if you inform Babette whether you agree or not. In the former event we shall have the pleasure of meeting again; in the latter case I take the opportunity of wishing you as happy a time as a man may have – in the future life. In the meantime I will see that some refreshments are sent to you. Adieu!'

He turned and stepped out of the cell and stood for a moment whilst Babette picked up the lantern and followed him.

'Monsieur will not want the light to aid him to think,' she laughed, and then the door was shut. I heard the sullen clank of the chain, the turning of the great keys, and I was alone and in darkness once more.

Dark it may have been, but, thank God! I was no longer like a trussed fowl, and betook myself to rubbing my numbed limbs until finally the chilled blood was warmed and I was able to stand, and then, in a little, I gained strength to grope my way backwards and forwards in the cell as an exercise. No thought of ever agreeing to de Gomeron's terms ever crossed me. I had, however, resolved to make a dash for freedom when he came to me again. I should pretend to agree, and then win or lose all in the rush. Anyway, I would not die here like a rat in a trap. I almost chuckled to myself as I thought I was in a fair way to outwit the free-lance. He was a fool after all, though, at the same time, I could not but admit that his move to get me to admit his innocence was a skilful one. Still, it was a plot that might overreach itself. My captors had eased me of my belt, which was so well stuffed with pistoles. They had not, however, had time or opportunity to search me further, and had left my clasp-knife, which lay in my pocket, as I have said, together with a dozen or so of gold pieces I had kept there to be at hand. I pulled out the knife and, opening it, ran my fingers along the blade. It was three inches or so in length, but sharp as a razor, and with it one might inflict an ugly wound in a struggle. I mapped out my plan mentally. When de Gomeron came again I should fell him as he entered, arm myself, if possible, by snatching his sword, and then cut my way out or be cut down. I had no doubt that I might be able to effect the first part of the programme. In those days I was as strong as a bull, and there were few men, especially if they were unprepared, who could have stood a blow from me. It was in act two that I might come to grief. At any rate, it would be a final and quick ending to the business, not the long-drawn-out agony I would otherwise have to endure. Now that I think of it, it was a poor enough plan, and it was lucky that, under Providence, another way was shown to me. Such as it was, however, it was the only thing that occurred to me at that time, and it would not be for want of effort on my part that it would fail. The more I thought over it, then the more I was convinced that it was my sole chance, and I grew impatient for the moment when I should put my design into execution. Twenty-four hours was long to wait, and I raved at myself for having fixed such a time. Morbleu! I might have had the sense to make it five, or three, or two hours! I little guessed, as I paced the cell impatiently, how many hours had passed since de Gomeron left me, and that it was impossible to measure time in that loathsome dungeon. As I sat brooding, the profound silence was once more suddenly disturbed by the sudden jarring of a bolt. It was not, however, the door of my cell that was opened, but a little wicket about a foot square, and through this there flashed again a blinding light, and the face of Babette peered in. So malign was its aspect that I shuddered in spite of myself, and then, in a fury I could not control, shouted out:

'Out of my presence, hag! Begone!'

'Oh! ho!' she laughed. 'A time will come when Monsieur will go on his two knees and pray to Babette – to good Babette – to kind Babette! In a day or so it will be thus,' and she laughed shrilly. 'But I go as you wish, to carry your refusal to the Captain.'

She made a movement as if to go, but, cursing myself at very nearly having spoilt all, I burst out, 'Stay!' and she looked back.

'Monsieur!' She grinned through the wicket.

'See here,' and in my eagerness my voice was hoarse and thick; 'five hundred crowns if you free me from this, and a thousand more if you will do the same for Madame.'

'Will Monsieur add a palace in the moon to this?'

'I give you the word of d'Auriac. Fifteen hundred crowns is a fortune. They will be yours in six hours from the time you free us. Think of it – fifteen hundred crowns!'

Never have I seen avarice blaze so in a face as in hers. As I dropped out the last words, she shook her head from side to side with a swaying motion of a serpent. Her eyes glittered like those of an asp, and between her half-parted lips she hissed rather than spoke to herself:

'Fif-teen hun-dred crowns! It is the price of a barony! I, who have taken life for a half-pistole!'

'You will save two lives for this,' I pleaded.

But the she-devil, though sorely tempted, was faithful. What de Gomeron's power over her was I know not. I could add nothing to my offer; I had laid my all on the hazard, and it was not to be done.

'Pouf!' she mocked, 'you do not go high enough. You do not promise the palace in the moon. But I waste my time. Is it "Yes," or "No," for the Captain?'

There was another chance, and I would risk that. I made a step nearer the opening.

'Give me something to drink, and I will answer at once.'

'Ah! ha! Monsieur requires some courage. Here is a flask of Frontignac, but it is expensive, and Monsieur, I am afraid, has left his belt outside his room. The Frontignac is five crowns.'

'You forgot my pockets,' I answered. 'Here are two pistoles; hand me the wine.'

'The money first,' and she stretched out her hand.

Like a flash I closed my fingers on her wrist, and drew in her hand to the full length of the arm.

'If you scream, if you utter a sound, I will tear your arm from its socket.'

The answer was a shriek that might have been heard a half-mile away, and then a foul oath and a howl of pain. It was hardly a knightly deed, but there was too much at stake to mince matters; and on her scream I gave the prisoner arm I held a wrench strong enough to show that I could keep my word. As the shrill echoes of her cry died away, I could hear her breathing heavily on the opposite side of the door, and she struggled mutely and with surprising strength to free herself. There was no answer to her call for help. There must have been many a shriek for help that had rung through that terrible dungeon, and died away answerless but for the mocking echoes! And Babette knew this, for she ceased to utter a sound after that one long scream, and fought in silence like a she-wolf at bay. At last she leaned exhausted against the door, and I felt that half my game was won. It had been an unexpected thought, and I had jumped at the opportunity Providence had thrown in my way.

'Do you hear?' I said; 'open the door, or – ' and I gave another half-turn to her arm.

She who could inflict such suffering on others was of those who were unable to bear the slightest pain herself. She moaned in agony and called out:

'Free me, and I promise – I promise anything.'

I only laughed and repeated my order, relieving the strain on her arm, however, so that she could slip back a half-pace or so from the wicket. Then I heard the great lock open and the chain put down, and Babette's voice trembling with anger and pain.

'It is open.'

The door swung outwards, so that all I had to do was to fold my prisoner's arm from the elbow along its face as I pushed it open. It kept her perfectly secure, and enabled me to take a precaution that, it turned out, was needed, for as I pushed the door I drove the death-hunter back with it, and the moment it was sufficiently open to let me pass, I sprang out and seized her left arm. Quick as I was, however, I was not quite quick enough to avoid the blow of her dagger, and received a flesh wound, which, however, was after all but slight. Then there was another struggle, and affairs were adjusted between Babette and myself without any special harm being done to her.

'Now listen to me,' I said. 'Whatever happens, I will kill you first if there is any treachery. Take me straight to Madame.'

'She is not here,' was the sullen reply.

'Then I take you with me to the Hôtel de Ville. Come – to your senses.'

She broke into the most terrible imprecations; but time was precious, and I quenched this readily enough, and at last it was clear she was utterly cowed. Again I repeat that no harm was done, and it was only dire necessity that compelled me to use the violence I did.

'Come,' and I shook her up. 'Where is Madame?'

She looked from right to left with a quick, uneasy motion of her eyes.

'I do not know. She is not here.'

I was compelled to believe her – or to accept her statement, which you will.

'Very well, then I waste time no longer,' and suiting actions to my words, and exerting my strength to its utmost, I took her with me up the stairway, forcing her to open each of the doors that closed on it. At the last door I took the precaution of gagging Babette, and fastened her arms securely, but lightly, behind her back with her own girdle. Then holding her against the wall, I ran rapidly over the whole position. If Madame was in the house, which was uncertain, I could effect her rescue better from without than within. If, on the other hand, she was not there, I would be wasting most valuable time, and perhaps ruin all chance of saving her, by searching the rooms of the Toison d'Or, unarmed as I was. Once free, I could force de Gomeron to give up his victim. He would not, after the charges I should lay against him in an hour, dare to leave Paris, whatever else he might do. That would in itself be a confession of guilt. As for Babette, I felt it was impossible to drag her with me through the streets of Paris.

'Look here!' and I gave my prisoner a shake. 'I fully believe that Madame is here, and if you wish to save yourself from the rack – it hurts more than what I have done to you – you will see that no harm comes to her. You follow?'

She was speechless, but her eyes were blazing with wrath as she made a sullen movement of her head.

'You had also better tell Monsieur de Gomeron, your master, that I refuse his terms. It will save him the trouble of knowing that I have escaped – you understand?'

This time she nodded eagerly enough.

'Now,' I went on, 'we will open the last door.'

I took the bunch of keys, and, after a try or two, succeeded in hitting on the right one. After this I pushed Babette before me into the small flagged yard, and saw to my surprise that it was night, and that the moon was out. Then I gave the fact no further thought beyond an inward 'Thank God!' for the uncertain moonlight that would cover my escape. As I pushed my captive along the shadow of the wall until we came to the entrance gate, I looked around and above me carefully, but there was nothing to indicate where Madame was. A hundred times was I tempted to turn back and risk all in searching the house for her, and it was only because I was convinced that the sole chance of saving her was to be free first myself that I did not give in to my desire. On reaching the gate I discovered that there was a wicket in it large enough to squeeze a man's body through, and that this was closed by a heavy pair of iron cross-bars, a secure enough defence from the outside. Holding Babette at arm's-length from me, I put down the bar and opened the wicket. Then, still keeping my hold on her, I freed her hands, and, bending slightly forwards and looking her straight in the face, said:

'Remember! And adieu, Madame de – Mau-ginot!'

At these words, which brought back to her memory her crime on the battle-field of La Fère, she shrank back, her eyes seemed to sink into their sockets, and as I loosed my hold of her shoulder she fell in a huddled heap on the flags of the yard.