Part 20 (2/2)
Just then Pille-Miche appeared in the gateway and called to the postilion who was left in the stable. At the same moment he saw the captain and covered him with his musket, shouting out, ”By Saint Anne of Auray! the rector was right enough in telling us the Blues had signed a compact with the devil. I'll bring you to life, I will!”
”Stop! my life is sacred,” cried Merle, seeing his danger. ”There's the glove of your Gars,” and he held it out.
”Ghosts' lives are not sacred,” replied the Chouan, ”and I sha'n't give you yours. Ave Maria!”
He fired, and the ball pa.s.sed through his victim's head. The captain fell. When Francine reached him she heard him mutter the words, ”I'd rather die with them than return without them.”
The Chouan sprang upon the body to strip it, saying, ”There's one good thing about ghosts, they come to life in their clothes.” Then, recognizing the Gars' glove, that sacred safeguard, in the captain's hand, he stopped short, terrified. ”I wish I wasn't in the skin of my mother's son!” he exclaimed, as he turned and disappeared with the rapidity of a bird.
To understand this scene, so fatal to poor Merle, we must follow Mademoiselle de Verneuil after the marquis, in his fury and despair, had abandoned her to Pille-Miche. Francine had caught Marche-a-Terre by the arm and reminded him, with sobs, of the promise he had made her. Pille-Miche was already dragging away his victim like a heavy bundle. Marie, her head and hair hanging back, turned her eyes to the lake; but held as she was in a grasp of iron she was forced to follow the Chouan, who turned now and then to hasten her steps, and each time that he did so a jovial thought brought a hideous smile upon his face.
”Isn't she a morsel!” he cried, with a coa.r.s.e laugh.
Hearing the words, Francine recovered speech.
”Pierre?”
”Well, what?”
”He'll kill her.”
”Not at once.”
”Then she'll kill herself, she will never submit; and if she dies I shall die too.”
”Then you love her too much, and she shall die,” said Marche-a-Terre.
”Pierre! if we are rich and happy we owe it all to her; but, whether or no, you promised me to save her.”
”Well, I'll try; but you must stay here, and don't move.”
Francine at once let go his arm, and waited in horrible suspense in the courtyard where Merle found her. Meantime Marche-a-Terre joined his comrade at the moment when the latter, after dragging his victim to the barn, was compelling her to get into the coach. Pille-Miche called to him to help in pulling out the vehicle.
”What are you going to do with all that?” asked Marche-a-Terre.
”The Grande Garce gave me the woman, and all that belongs to her is mine.”
”The coach will put a sou or two in your pocket; but as for the woman, she'll scratch your eyes out like a cat.”
Pille-Miche burst into a roar of laughter.
”Then I'll tie her up and take her home,” he answered.
”Very good; suppose we harness the horses,” said Marche-a-Terre.
A few moments later Marche-a-Terre, who had left his comrade mounting guard over his prey, led the coach from the stable to the causeway, where Pille-Miche got into it beside Mademoiselle de Verneuil, not perceiving that she was on the point of making a spring into the lake.
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