Part 7 (1/2)
”Oh!”
”Blaise de Lorgnac was on guard at the door. He had heard every word, and now stepped forward and claimed your hand, offering at the same time to undertake the affair for which an agent could not be found.
His offer was accepted, and in the early morning, madame, in the yard of la Boucherie, where I had the honour to be your husband's second, your traducer met with his death, and with his last breath confessed that he had lied. That was the very day, madame, that you foolishly rode out with de Clermont. Stay, there is yet a little more, and that concerns the despatch. My business at Perigueux was to give an order to de Termes to receive at St. Priest-Taurion a prisoner of state, who was to be handed over to him by myself and de Clermont. I am here to receive that prisoner, and it is Blaise de Lorgnac who is entrusted with the duty of taking him alive. The duplicate despatch, if there is such a one--and you say you have seen the cover--does not refer to you, and de Clermont has lied. I will settle with him for using my name; but, madame, you are as free as air, and may go where you like, and for Blaise de Lorgnac's sake I will help you all I can--and this is all.”
”Oh! I don't know what to think.”
”You are free to go, I say; and as de Clermont will be here soon, and not alone, I would advise an immediate departure. I will detach a brace of lances to act as further escort, and let me give the order now. I will be back in a moment.”
He did not wait for my reply, but turning on his heel stepped out of the room, and I sat with my brain burning, and my head between my hands. I could not doubt this story, and if ever woman pa.s.sed through a furnace of shame and anger I did so in those few minutes. I now knew what de Lorgnac was. I now for the first time saw de Clermont in his true colours, with his mask off; and yet--and yet--perhaps Norreys was mistaken about him. I had proved myself to be so utterly wrong, to have jumped to conclusions so rashly, that I dared not sit in judgment any more on a soul, and whilst I floundered on in this way Norreys came back.
”I have arranged everything, madame; the orders have been given to your people. They will be ready to start in a half hour. About midnight you should reach Millevranches, and I should halt there and go on with the morning.”
”Monsieur, how can I thank you? I have no words.”
”Let the matter rest, Madame de Lorgnac,” and then his voice took a gentler tone. ”I would not urge your going at once except that we are on de Clermont's own estates, and he has a hundred lances with him at his Chateau of Ferrand. It is shut out from view by the hills, but it lies yonder,” He pointed to the west through the open window, and as he did so an exclamation of surprise burst from him, and he crossed himself.
I followed his glance and saw, high in the heavens, hanging over the mountainous pile of reddening clouds that lay in the west, the grim outline of a vast fortress. The huge walls reflected back with a coppery l.u.s.tre the red light of the sun, and it was as if we could see figures moving on the ramparts and the flash of arms from the battlements. From the flag-staff on the donjon a broad banner flaunted itself proudly, and so clear and distinct was the light that we made out with ease the blazon on the standard, and the straining leashed ounces of the house of Clermont-Ferrand. And then the clouds took a duskier red, and the solid ma.s.s of castle faded away into nothing. I stood still and speechless, and Norreys burst forth, ”Sorcery, as I live. Madame, that was the Chateau de Ferrand.”
I had never seen the like before, never again did I see it, nor do I wish to, and it left me so chilled and faint, that Norreys noticed it at once and called for wine. As he did so, I fancied that I heard the beat of a horse's hoof, but paid no attention to it; and then the wine came and I drank, he standing over me. I was just setting down the gla.s.s when there was a grating at the entrance, a long shadow fell through the doorway, and de Clermont stepped in with a cheery ”Good-day, Monsieur de Norreys. I see you have not been neglecting your time here. _Arnidieu!_ Denise! Is it you? You seem to be forever dropping from the clouds across my path,” and he held out his hand; but I took no notice, though I rose from my chair, and Norreys merely bowed frigidly in return to his greeting. De Clermont seemed in nowise disconcerted, but there was an angry flash in his eyes, and for a second he stood tapping the end of his boot with his riding-whip, and looking from one to another of us with a half smile on his lips. Then putting his plumed hat on the table, and drawing off his gloves, he drawled out with a veiled insolence in every tone of his voice, ”Upon my word, M. de Norreys, I congratulate you, and if it were not for our business I would leave you in peace, for madame seems to have learned the lesson that 'It is well to be off with the old love before you are on with the new.'”
He had grasped the weakness of the situation at a glance, and took full advantage of it, but though outwardly cool and self-possessed there was death in his eyes. I could bear it no longer, and turned to leave the room. He rose from his seat, saying, ”Pray do not leave us, madame--you look pale, though, and perhaps need rest. I trust, however, your indisposition has nothing to do with the sight I observed you watching from the window. Do you know what it means?” and he turned to Norreys.
In spite of myself I stopped for an instant; but Norreys ignored him, and de Clermont went on:
”It means, monsieur, that this apparition is always seen when a man dies by the hand of de Clermont-Ferrand.”
Norreys simply bowed, though I thought I heard the word ”boaster”
muttered between his teeth, and, turning to me, said, ”Permit me, madame,” and gave me his arm to take me from the room.
Outside, in the narrow pa.s.sage that led to my chamber, he stopped and held out his hand.
”Let me say adieu, madame. I would accompany you if I could, but it is impossible. I would advise you to leave at once before any of M. le Marquis's men come up. I can see he is ripe for mischief.”
”Monsieur de Norreys, I am no fool--I can understand. For mercy's sake avoid a quarrel with de Clermont. He is a deadly swordsman, and if anything happens to you, I shall feel all my life that I was the cause of it. G.o.d knows I owe you much, for you have opened my eyes. Promise me, monsieur, promise me!”
”Madame, the use of the sword is not confined to your country nor to de Clermont alone,” and then he saw the tears that sprang to my eyes.
”Ah! madame, not that; you will unman me! See, there is your equerry.
Commend me to de Lorgnac when you meet, and adieu!”
He dropped my hand and turned on his heel, but I could not let him go like that.
”Monsieur, not that way. Promise me what I ask.”
”I promise to avoid a quarrel if possible; I can say no more.” With that he went, erect and stately. Of what followed I never knew; but, alas! There is one sorrow that ever haunts me; and in the quiet churchyard of St. Yriarte is a tomb which I visit yearly with my husband, and it covers the heart of as brave and gallant a gentleman as ever lived--poor Norreys!
CHAPTER VIII.