Part 4 (2/2)
”As for me I await a letter, or an arrival, either would emanc.i.p.ate me; but I can't say how soon either event will happen.”
”Can I be of any use in this matter?” I began.
”None, Monsieur, I thank you a thousand times. No, this is a piece in which every _role_ is already cast. I am but an amateur, and induced solely by friends.h.i.+p, to take a part.”
So he talked on, for a time, as we walked slowly toward the Belle etoile, and then came a silence, which I broke by asking him if he knew anything of Colonel Gaillarde.
”Oh! yes, to be sure. He is a little mad; he has had some bad injuries of the head. He used to plague the people in the War Office to death. He has always some delusion. They contrived some employment for him--not regimental, of course--but in this campaign Napoleon, who could spare n.o.body, placed him in command of a regiment. He was always a desperate fighter, and such men were more than ever needed.”
There is, or was, a second inn in this town called l'ecu de France. At its door the Marquis stopped, bade me a mysterious good-night, and disappeared.
As I walked slowly toward my inn, I met, in the shadow of a row of poplars, the garcon who had brought me my Burgundy a little time ago. I was thinking of Colonel Gaillarde, and I stopped the little waiter as he pa.s.sed me.
”You said, I think, that Colonel Gaillarde was at the Belle etoile for a week at one time.”
”Yes, Monsieur.”
”Is he perfectly in his right mind?”
The waiter stared. ”Perfectly, Monsieur.”
”Has he been suspected at any time of being out of his mind?”
”Never, Monsieur; he is a little noisy, but a very shrewd man.”
”What is a fellow to think?” I muttered, as I walked on.
I was soon within sight of the lights of the Belle etoile. A carriage, with four horses, stood in the moonlight at the door, and a furious altercation was going on in the hall, in which the yell of Colonel Gaillarde out-topped all other sounds.
Most young men like, at least, to witness a row. But, intuitively, I felt that this would interest me in a very special manner. I had only fifty yards to run, when I found myself in the hall of the old inn. The princ.i.p.al actor in this strange drama was, indeed, the Colonel, who stood facing the old Count de St. Alyre, who, in his traveling costume, with his black silk scarf covering the lower part of his face, confronted him; he had evidently been intercepted in an endeavor to reach his carriage. A little in the rear of the Count stood the Countess, also in traveling costume, with her thick black veil down, and holding in her delicate fingers a white rose. You can't conceive a more diabolical effigy of hate and fury than the Colonel; the knotted veins stood out on his forehead, his eyes were leaping from their sockets, he was grinding his teeth, and froth was on his lips. His sword was drawn in his hand, and he accompanied his yelling denunciations with stamps upon the floor and flourishes of his weapon in the air.
The host of the Belle etoile was talking to the Colonel in soothing terms utterly thrown away. Two waiters, pale with fear, stared uselessly from behind. The Colonel screamed and thundered, and whirled his sword.
”I was not sure of your red birds of prey; I could not believe you would have the audacity to travel on high roads, and to stop at honest inns, and lie under the same roof with honest men. You! _you! both_--vampires, wolves, ghouls. Summon the _gendarmes_, I say. By St. Peter and all the devils, if either of you try to get out of that door I'll take your heads off.”
For a moment I had stood aghast. Here was a situation! I walked up to the lady; she laid her hand wildly upon my arm. ”Oh! Monsieur,” she whispered, in great agitation, ”that dreadful madman! What are we to do?
He won't let us pa.s.s; he will kill my husband.”
”Fear nothing, Madame,” I answered, with romantic devotion, and stepping between the Count and Gaillarde, as he shrieked his invective, ”Hold your tongue, and clear the way, you ruffian, you bully, you coward!” I roared.
A faint cry escaped the lady, which more than repaid the risk I ran, as the sword of the frantic soldier, after a moment's astonished pause, flashed in the air to cut me down.
Chapter VII
THE WHITE ROSE
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