Part 24 (1/2)

”Keep what you have in your hand,” she replied, in a low voice, and pointed to her glove.

I rose, and fastened the glove on my hat, and said: ”They shall find it on me when I am dead, mademoiselle.” Then I turned to go in search of Pierre.

”I shall go to my room now,” she said, ”and so, good-night, monsieur!”

I turned, and made to take her hand that I might kiss it, but she drew it away, and then, standing on the threshold, she raised it as one does in bestowing a _benedicite_, and said:

”G.o.d watch you through the night, monsieur!”

”And you forever, mademoiselle!” said I, but she had gone. For a moment I stood looking up at her chamber window, thinking how it had come over me again, as in the days of my youth, the longing to be near one woman.

Night was now coming on. In the deeper shades of the forest it was already dark, but the sky was clear, and soon the moon would rise. Musing as I went, I walked along the road that Pierre had first taken. The only sounds that I heard were the ceaseless chirps and whirrs of the insects of the bushes and trees.

When I had gone some distance, I bethought me of my heedlessness in coming away from the inn without my sword. I had taken this off before sitting down to eat, and at my departure my mind had been so taken up with other matters that I had omitted to put it on. My dagger was with it at the inn. At first I thought of returning for these weapons, but I considered that I would not be away long, and that there was no likelihood of my requiring weapon in these solitudes. So I continued on my way towards a knoll whence I expected to get a good view of the road, and thus, should Pierre be returning on that road, spare myself the labor of plunging into the wood's depths and listening for the footsteps of his horse or of himself.

I had walked several minutes in the increasing darkness, when there came to my ears, from the shades at the right, the sound of a human snore.

Had the boy fatigued himself in trying to find the way, and fallen asleep without knowledge of his nearness to the inn?

”Pierre!” I called. There was no answer.

I called again. Again there was no reply, but the snoring ceased. A third time I called. My call was unheeded.

I turned into the wilds, and forced my way through dense undergrowth. At a short distance from the road, I came on traces of the pa.s.sage of some one else. Following these, I arrived at last at a small open s.p.a.ce, where the absence of vegetation seemed due to some natural cause.

Sufficient of the day's failing light reached the clearing to show me the figures of four men on the ground before me, three of them stretched in slumber, the fourth sitting up. The last held a huge old two-handed sword over his shoulder, ready to strike. The threatening att.i.tude of this giant made me take mechanically a step backward, and feel for my sword. Alas, I was unarmed!

”So, my venturesome lackey, we meet again!” came a sarcastic voice from the left, and some one darted between me and the four men, facing me with drawn sword.

It was the Vicomte de Berquin, and a triumphant smile was on his face.

Moved by the thought that mademoiselle's safety depended on me, I was not ashamed, being unarmed, to turn about for immediate flight. But I had no sooner shown my back to M. de Berquin, than I found myself face to face with the scowling Barbemouche, who stood motionless, the point of his sword not many inches from my breast.

CHAPTER XI.

HOW THE HERO GAVE HIS WORD AND KEPT IT

I stood still and reflected.

”You lack a weapon,” said M. de Berquin, humorously. ”I shall presently give you mine, point first.”

As I was still facing Barbemouche, I imagined the point of the Vicomte's sword entering my back, and I will confess that I s.h.i.+vered.

”And I mine,” growled Barbemouche. ”Though you are a lackey and I a gentleman, yet, by the grandmother of Beelzebub, I am glad to see you!”

”Indeed!” said I, whose only hope was to gain time for thought. ”This is a heartier welcome than a stranger might expect.”

De Berquin laughed. Barbemouche said, ”You are no stranger.”

”Then you know me?” said I. ”Who am I?”