Part 15 (1/2)
Time pa.s.sed slowly. The Duke was certainly late.
”Perhaps he refused to come,” Felix murmured. ”No; Christine would see to that. They cannot have failed; it was so easy a task.”
The hours wore on toward dusk--long hours for those in the streets, for those in the castle, for Count Felix. The courtiers wondered and speculated. The Count's face was imperturbable. He had a dozen reasons to give for the delay. He gave them to friend and foe alike. No one hurried along the corridors, there was no need; all that could be done had been done. They could only wait and listen.
Lights were in the castle, and the Count was alone when hurried steps which he expected came to the door. A man entered, a swaggering giant at most times, but now travel-stained, with torn coat, and a streak of dried blood upon his forehead.
”Well, Barbier!” Felix cried, starting from his chair.
”Escaped.”
”What!”
”They were ready,” said the man. ”We must have been betrayed. All fell out as we had planned, but Lemasle, and the Duke, and a priest----”
”Priest! What priest?”
”Some one Mademoiselle would bring to Vayenne,” answered Barbier. ”So Lemasle told us; but I warrant he lied, for this same priest was a fearless horseman, and wielded a sword that took its full toll of blood. We had surrounded them when Lemasle and Mademoiselle dashed through us, and we let them go, closing upon the Duke and this priest.
In a moment they had turned, and were fleeing along the forest road. A shot wounded the Duke, another stopped his horse, but as it fell this priest lifted the wounded man before him on to his animal. We followed, but he outwitted us. He was no priest, I'll swear to that.”
”A thousand curses on your blundering,” said Felix. ”He was wounded, you say?”
”Yes.”
”To the death?”
”That I cannot tell,” Barbier answered.
”I will tell you,” said Felix. ”He was. Do you understand? He was. He died in the forest.”
”We searched. I have left them searching. We found nothing.”
”Fool, you must find something. Is a man killed in conflict always recognizable? Mar the face of some dead comrade, mar it effectually, and then come with your story to Vayenne. Trust me, it shall find easy credence. I will prepare Vayenne for it. Do you understand?”
”But this priest?”
”Curse him,” said Felix. ”Whatever may chance, I shall know that Barbier was one of the bravest in this forest fight. Having gone thus far, think you I shall turn back now? Here's to show you what a man may expect who is prompt in my service.” And he placed a bag of coins in his hand. ”Ride back. Answer no questions. Say 'The Count knows, ask him.' Do you understand, Barbier?”
”We shall find the body and bring it ere morning,” the man answered.
”To horse, Barbier, Captain of the Duke's Guard. There is no time to lose.”
The man saluted, and went quickly from the room.
For a moment the Count stood with clenched hands, and underlip tightly held between his teeth. Then he went out to meet the eager questions of those that waited.
That night there were again running feet through the streets of Vayenne, and men shouted as they ran: ”The Duke is dead! The young Duke is dead!” And some were sad, while others rejoiced and spake no more of Count Felix, but openly called him Duke, and thought of the honors and rewards that should speedily fall to them. There were many who found no sleep that night in Vayenne.
CHAPTER X