Part 14 (2/2)

My arm, where Simon's sword had touched me, now began to remind me that it needed attention. A low whistle brought Pierrebon to my side, and the injury was looked to by such light as the moon gave. Fortunately it was but a slight flesh wound, and an improvised bandage soon gave relief. So, resting it in a sling out of my scarf, I leaned back once more, and bade Pierrebon go and sleep.

For an hour or more I sat thus, watching and thinking. At last, rising slowly, I cautiously stepped up to mademoiselle and looked. She was asleep; but so still did she lie, so pale and white did she look, that I thought for a terrible moment that she was dead, and bent over her, placing my hand close to her lips to feel if she breathed. She moved uneasily as I did so, and I came back to my tree and to my thoughts.

Finally, as the moon was sinking, I too slept, and as I slept I dreamed. I saw myself once more riding towards Orrain, and not alone, for mademoiselle was by my side. As we rode out of the pine-woods the Chateau stood before us. There was the square keep, with its pepper-box towers, and bartizans overhanging the moat. There were the grey ramparts tapestried in ivy, and the terraced gardens, where the peac.o.c.ks sunned themselves. All around us were happy faces, and joyous voices welcoming us home--the home to which I had so long been dead; and it was mine now, and more besides--and then--I awoke with a start and looked around me. It was all so real.

”Tus.h.!.+” I exclaimed, ”have I slipped back into the days of enchantment and the fay Melusine?” And rising I saw it was touching dawn, for the east was red, and the morning star, Maguelonne--the shepherd's star, as we call it in our hills--was burning bright. Mademoiselle and Pierrebon were still asleep, and it was too early yet to awaken them.

It would be time enough when the sun rose, and in the meanwhile I began to reflect upon the best means of bestowing mademoiselle in safety.

Razines was so near to Richelieu that if the latter were occupied by marauders they would hardly have left the little hamlet alone, unless, indeed, they were Huguenots who were in Richelieu. In which event Razines, which was known to be touched with the new heresy, would probably be unharmed. This, however, did not make things any the better for us. I made up my mind that the best course would be to take mademoiselle on with me to Poitiers, and there hand her over to some responsible person until her friends could be told of her. The very thought of this, however, jarred on me somehow, and I caught myself building castles in Spain again. ”Come,” I said to myself, ”at your age, _mon ami_, you should know better than to go off dreaming at the sight of a pretty face and the sound of a sweet voice.” And then I laughed aloud at the thought that I knew but half her name--that at any rate would be remedied soon. So, rising, for it was time now, I softly awoke Pierrebon and mademoiselle, and in a short while we were once more on our way through the low hills that stretched through Lencloitre.

It was necessary at all hazards that we should get some food, as well for the horses as ourselves, and when we had gone a little way we saw Razines lying to our left. Here I halted, and, moving my party into cover behind some trees, I explained the position, and begged mademoiselle to remain with Pierrebon, whilst I went forward to the village to see how matters stood, adding that, if I did not return within a short time, her best course would be to go on to Poitiers with Pierrebon, and place herself in a convent there until she could write to her friends.

”Monsieur,” she answered, her colour rising, ”you have risked enough for me already. I will not permit you to do this. If you go to Razines I go too.”

I was delighted with her courage; but though I pressed her hard to do what I asked she was firm in her resolve. In this matter, however, I had no intention of yielding, and we might have been there half the day had we not seen coming up the road a couple of villagers with some cattle.

”We can at least inquire from them,” I suggested, and she laughed.

”At the first sight of you, monsieur, they will be off. Let me go!”

And suiting action to words she rode out towards the peasants. There was truth in her words, for as she rode out of the trees one of the yokels fled at once, but the other, seeing it was a woman, held his ground. A moment after they were in converse, and I saw a broad grin on the man's face. Then mademoiselle beckoned to us, and we came forth. On our appearance the peasant seemed inclined to follow his friend's example; but we somehow managed to rea.s.sure him, and gathered that, except for a small party of harmless travellers who were at the Green Man, Razines was empty.

”You are luckier than they are at Richelieu, my friend,” I said.

”Then Richelieu is taken?”

”Apparently so.”

”Hola! for Monsieur de Ganache!” And he flung his cap in the air.

”Ha, monsieur, the Vicomte pa.s.sed here but yesterday evening, with sixty lances at his back, to hang the Guidon. Has he done so?”

”I know not,” I answered; and turning to mademoiselle, said: ”We have had a lucky escape.”

”Indeed! How, monsieur?”

”Because M. de Ganache is known to be one of the fiercest of the Huguenot leaders, and spares nothing.”

”We have to thank those who made him so, monsieur; and at any rate he has spared Razines.”

I looked at her in surprise. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were hot, and I could scarce forbear a smile at the thought that it was a little rebel I had in my charge, and turning the talk, said:

”We may go on to the Green Man in safety, I think.” And, bidding Pierrebon give the yokel a coin, we pressed forwards. It was not, however, without another careful scrutiny that I led the way into the village, where we were soon within the doors of the inn. It was a poor place, but host and hostess were kindly; and did the best they could.

In the public room was the party of travellers whom the peasant had mentioned. They consisted of a gentleman and his wife, whose dress and air betokened them people of rank, whilst a little apart, at the lower end of the room, were one or two others--their servants. The glitter of a sapphire ring on the stranger's hand attracted my attention, and it was as if he noticed the casual glance I cast at it, for he turned his hand so as to hide the ring. This set me observing him more narrowly, and though it was years since I had seen him I was certain it was the Cardinal of Chatillon. It was Odet de Coligny himself, not a doubt of it, and the lady was the n.o.ble woman who had sacrificed so much for his sake. He had married her--prince of the Church though he was--and had openly thrown in his lot with those of the New Faith.

They in their turn looked at us with interest as we entered, and on seeing mademoiselle the lady looked as if she knew her, and seemed as if she were about to speak, but Chatillon said something in a low voice which restrained her. On the other hand, mademoiselle seemed flurried, and kept her face averted. I could not but think they knew each other; but it was no time to ask questions, so I said nothing, but quietly set about arranging for our comforts. Mademoiselle retired to her room at once, the landlady fussing after her, and after having a.s.sisted Pierrebon to see to the horses I myself went to rest. I must have slept for a good four hours, and on awakening found it was high noon.

Down I came, and entering the public room of the inn found it empty. I went on towards the stables, where Pierrebon was still asleep near the horses. There was no sign of mademoiselle, and thinking she was still resting I let Pierrebon alone, and returning into the inn sat near a window, awaiting my charge's appearance. Had I been alone I would have pressed on to Poitiers, and reached it by nightfall; but as it was it would be better to wait till well on in the afternoon, when mademoiselle, being refreshed, would no doubt be able to travel. We should halt at Miribeau for the night, and make Poitiers the next day.

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