Part 39 (2/2)
”Hola, citizen! Wake up,” shouted one of the men; ”you have not told us yet what you have done with Capet!”
Marguerite uttered a cry of horror Instinctively her arms were interposed between the unconscious esture of protecting motherhood
”He has fainted,” she said, her voice quivering with indignation ”My God! are you devils that you have not one spark of ed their shoulders, and both laughed brutally They had seen worse sights than these, since they served a Republic that ruled by bloodshed and by terror They were own brothers in callousness and cruelty to those o had watched the daily agony of a martyred Queen, or to those who had rushed into the Abbaye prison on that awful day in Septehty defenceless prisoners--men, women, and children--to the sword
”Tell him to say what he has done with Capet,” said one of the soldiers now, and this rough command was acco up into Marguerite's pale cheeks
The brutal laugh, the coarse words which accouerite, had penetrated to Blakeney's slowly returning consciousness With sudden strength, that appeared almost supernatural, he jumped to his feet, and before any of the others could interfere he had with clenched fist struck the soldier a full blow on the ered back with a curse, the other shouted for help; in a uerite was roughly torn away from the prisoner's side, and thrust into the far corner of the cell, from where she only saw a confusedfor one brief moment above what seemed to her fevered fancy like a veritable sea of heads--the pale face of her husband, ide dilated eyes searching the gloom for hers
”Re out clear and sharp above the din
Then he disappeared behind the wall of glistening bayonets, of blue coats and uplifted ar ed out of the cell, the iron bar being thrust down behind her with a loud clang Then in a vague, drea drawn back fro of the key in the monuht the sensation of renewed life into her
CHAPTER xxx AFTERWARDS
”I am sorry, Lady Blakeney,” said a harsh, dry voice close to her; ”the incident at the end of your visit was none of our , reht of contact with this wretch She had heard the heavy oaken door swing to behind her on its ponderous hinges, and the key once again turn in the lock She felt as if she had suddenly been thrust into a coffin, and that clods of earth were being thrown upon her breast, oppressing her heart so that she could not breathe
Had she looked for the last ti else on earth, whom she worshi+ppedwithin the folds of her kerchief aman to his comrades?
Mechanically she followed Chauvelin down the corridor and along the passages which she had traversed a brief half-hour ago From some distant church tower a clock tolled the hour of ten It had then really only been little more than thirty brief , which seemed less stony than the monsters who held authority within it; to her it see that tihten her back or to steady her limbs; she could only diure of Chauvelin walking with measured steps, his hands held behind his back, his head thrown up hat looked like triumphant defiance
At the door of the cubicle where she had been forced to sub searched by a wardress, the latter was now standing, waiting with characteristic stolidity In her hand she held the steel files, the dagger and the purse which, as Marguerite passed, she held out to her
”Your property, citizeness,” she said placidly
She emptied the purse into her own hand, and soleold She was about to replace theuerite pressed one of theh, citizeness,” she said; ”keep one for yourself, not only for me, but for all the poor woo hence with it full of despair”
The woman turned calold piece with a grudginglythis brief interlude, had walked thoughtlessly on ahead Marguerite, peering down the length of the narrow corridor, spied his sable-clad figure some hundred ht thrown by one of the lamps
She was about to follohen it see in the darkness close beside her The wardress was even now in the act of closing the door of her cubicle, and there were a couple of soldiers ere disappearing froe, whilst Chauvelin's retreating forht close to where she herself was standing, and the blackness around her was as i and breathing close to her in this intense darkness acted weirdly on her overwrought nerves
”Qui va la?” she called
There was athe shadows this tistones of the corridor All else was silent round, and now she could plainly hear those footsteps running rapidly down the passage away from her She strained her eyes to see ht on ahead she spied aquickly yet furtively like one pursued As he crossed the light the man turned to look back
It was her brother Armand
Her first instinct was to call to him; the second checked that call upon her lips
Percy had said that Ar the dark corridors of this awful house of Justice if he was free and safe?