Part 10 (1/2)
”Well done, de Rosny, my squire of dames. _Pardieu!_ We have the whole hive--Queen-Bee and all.”
”By G.o.d!” said another, ”they will hang from the rafters in a half-hour, then--my poor Ganache!” And the speaker, whose rough, harsh voice was as pitiless as his speech, swore a bitter oath. ”Gently, Tremblecourt,” replied the one who had been called de Rosny; ”our poor de Ganache's soul has not flown so far but that the others can overtake it in time.” And then de Clermont came up to me, but as he pa.s.sed la Coquille in so doing, the latter strained at his cords, and hissed rather than spoke out the word ”Traitor!” as he spat at him.
”You hang in a little time head downwards at de Lorgnac's feet for that,” said de Clermont calmly, and then turning to me, ”'Tis a sad business this, madame; but war is war, and after all things are going as you would have them, are they not?”
I could not bear to meet that sneering, beautiful face, which, now that its mask was s.n.a.t.c.hed away, cared not in how evil an aspect it showed itself. Words would not come to me, and as I stood there before de Clermont, quivering in every limb at the awful threat conveyed in his speech to la Coquille, de Tremblecourt's voice rang out again, mad and broken with rage:
”Away with them! Sling them from the parapet--now!”
The men around rushed with a yell at la Coquille and his fellow-prisoners--G.o.d pardon those who cause the horrors of war--but my defender, de Rosny, again interposed, and drove them back, despite de Tremblecourt's angry protests, whilst de Clermont stayed his rage with a quiet:
”Be still, Tremblecourt. The King will be here in ten minutes with our other prisoner, and we will deal with Messieurs--in a bunch,” and he glanced at me with a meaning in his eyes that I read as an open page.
”Come, madame,” said de Rosny, who saw my pallor, ”let me take you out of this. I pledge the word of Bethune that no harm will touch you; but that is to happen, I fear, which is not fit for you to see.” With these words he took my arm kindly and led me inside, unresisting and as in a dream. In the hall where we stopped I forced myself to regain some courage. It was no time for a faint heart.
”Monsieur! What does this all mean? What is to happen to de Lorgnac?
Tell me--I am his wife, monsieur.”
He bowed gravely yet sadly. ”The King of Navarre is generous, madame.
Henri will be here soon, and all may yet be well. In the meantime rest you here, and compose yourself--you are safe from harm.”
With this, he, who was in after years to be the first man in France, left me almost stunned and broken by what I had heard. Now that I was about to lose him--nay, had already lost him, for nothing, I felt sure, would move these pitiless hearts--I realized to the end what de Lorgnac was to me, and with this came the dreadful conviction that it was I, and I alone, who had brought this on my husband. I, a fool in my folly, who did not know my own heart, I who with a word might have stayed and kept him who was all in all to me, had driven him forth with my senseless pride to death. I could do nothing to save him. What could a woman do against these men? And then it was as if the whole horror that was to be pictured itself before my eyes, and a mocking fiend gibed in whispers in my ears, ”You, you have done this!” Almost with a cry I sprang from my seat, my hand on my forehead and an unspoken prayer on my lips. I felt that my brain was giving way, and that I must do something to regain myself and think. This was no time for aught but action, and here I was giving way utterly. I might do something--surely my woman's wit could suggest some means of saving my husband? Then what happens to those who are face to face with an awful terror happened to me, and, as once before, I fell on my knees before G.o.d's Throne, and prayed in a mortal agony. ”G.o.d help me in my distress!” I called out aloud, and a quiet voice answered:
”Perhaps He has sent the help, Denise.”
I sprang up with a start, a wild hope rus.h.i.+ng through my heart, and saw Raoul de Clermont before me, with the sneering hardness out of his face and all the old soft light in his eyes. If it was so--if he but bore me the glad tidings his words hinted at--I could forgive him all, and be his friend forever.
”Say that again, monsieur,” I gasped; ”say it again and I will bless you to my last breath.” And as I spoke the heavy folds of the curtain that covered the doorway moved as if stirred by a wind.
”I said that perhaps G.o.d”--and he bowed reverently--ah! devil and traitor!--”that perhaps G.o.d has answered your prayer. You have asked for help, and it has come. I am here to offer it. I, and I alone, can save de Lorgnac, by force if necessary, for I have fifty lances at my heels, and it rests with you to say the word. I have been mad, Denise; then I came to my senses; and now I am mad again. I love you--do you hear? Love you as man never loved woman. You beautiful thing of ice!
Come with me, and de Lorgnac is free. Come!”
In his eagerness he put forth his hand towards me, but with a shudder I drew back and his face darkened. Then nerving myself, I made one last appeal.
”Raoul de Clermont, I believed you once to be a man of honour. Let me think so again; give me the chance. Be merciful for once. Save my husband as you say you can. See, it is a wife who pleads. Man! There must be some spark of knighthood in you to fire your soul! You are brave, I know. Can you not be generous and pitiful? You have tried to kill my soul. Monsieur, I will forget that--I will forget the past, and thank you forever if you do this. Save him, for I love him!”
”Love him!”
”Yes, love him as he deserves to be loved, and by a better woman. De Clermont, be true to yourself.”
His breath came thick and fast, and then he spoke with an effort:
”You ask too much, Denise. I have offered you my terms. I give you five minutes to say yes or no, and I will take your answer as final.
G.o.d is answering your prayer in His own way,” he went on, with the shadow of a sneer once more across his lips.
”He mostly does,” came the reply, as the curtain was lifted and de Rosny stepped in, calling out as he entered, ”Madame, the King!”
Then there was a tramp of spurred boots, the clas.h.i.+ng of steel scabbards, the waving of plumes, and ere I knew it I was at the feet of the Bourbon, sobbing out my prayer for mercy.