Part 8 (1/2)
One fine night he came to the place armed with a pickaxe, and by the sweat of his brow uncovered a succession of cellars, which were entered by a flight of stone steps. The pond, which was three feet deep in the middle, formed a sort of dipper, the handle of which seemed to come from the little eminence, and went far to prove that a spring had once issued from the crags, and was now lost by infiltration through the forest. The marshy sh.o.r.es of the pond, covered with aquatic trees, alders, willow, and ash, were the terminus of all the wood-paths, the remains of former roads and forest by-ways, now abandoned. The water, flowing from a spring, though apparently stagnant, was covered with large-leaved plants and cresses, which gave it a perfectly green surface almost indistinguishable from the sh.o.r.es, which were covered with fine close herbage. The place is too far from human habitations for any animal, unless a wild one, to come there. Convinced that no game was in the marsh and repelled by the craggy sides of the hills, keepers and hunters had never explored or visited this nook, which belonged to a part of the forest where the timber had not been cut for many years and which Michu meant to keep in its full growth when the time came round to fell it.
At the further end of the first cellar was a vaulted chamber, clean and dry, built with hewn stone, a sort of convent dungeon, such as they called in monastic days the _in pace_. The salubrity of the chamber and the preservation of this part of the staircase and of the vaults were explained by the presence of the spring, which had been enclosed at some time by a wall of extraordinary thickness built in brick and cement like those of the Romans, and received all the waters. Michu closed the entrance to this retreat with large stones; then, to keep the secret of it to himself and make it impenetrable to others, he made a rule never to enter it except from the wooded height above, by clambering down the crag instead of approaching it from the pond.
Just as the fugitives arrived, the moon was casting her beautiful silvery light on the aged tree-tops above the crag, and flickering on the splendid foliage at the corners of the several paths, all of which ended here, some with one tree, some with a group of trees. On all sides the eye was irresistibly led along their vanis.h.i.+ng perspectives, following the curve of a wood-path or the solemn stretch of a forest glade flanked by a wall of verdure that was nearly black. The moonlight, filtering through the branches of the crossways, made the lonely, tranquil waters, where they peeped between the crosses and the lily-pads, sparkle like diamonds. The croaking of the frogs broke the deep silence of this beautiful forest-nook, the wild odors of which incited the soul to thoughts of liberty.
”Are we safe?” said the countess to Michu.
”Yes, mademoiselle. But we have each some work to do. Do you go and fasten our horses to the trees at the top of the little hill; tie a handkerchief round the mouth of each of them,” he said, giving her his cravat; ”your beast and mine are both intelligent, they will understand they are not to neigh. When you have done that, come down the crag directly above the pond; but don't let your habit catch anywhere. You will find me below.”
While the countess hid the horses and tied and gagged them, Michu removed the stones and opened the entrance to the caverns. The countess, who thought she knew the forest by heart, was amazed when she descended into the vaulted chambers. Michu replaced the stones above them with the dexterity of a mason. As he finished, the sound of horses' feet and the voices of the gendarmes echoed in the darkness; but he quietly struck a match, lighted a resinous bit of wood and led the countess to the _in pace_, where there was still a piece of the candle with which he had first explored the caves. An iron door of some thickness, eaten in several places by rust, had been put in good order by the bailiff, and could be fastened securely by bars slipping into holes in the wall on either side of it. The countess, half dead with fatigue, sat down on a stone bench, above which there still remained an iron ring, the staple of which was embedded in the masonry.
”We have a salon to converse in,” said Michu. ”The gendarmes may prowl as much as they like; the worst they could do would be to take our horses.”
”If they do that,” said Laurence, ”it would be the death of my cousins and the Messieurs d'Hauteserre. Tell me now, what do you know?”
Michu related what he had overheard Malin say to Grevin.
”They are already on the road to Paris; they were to enter it to-morrow morning,” said the countess when he had finished.
”Lost!” exclaimed Michu. ”All persons entering or leaving the barriers are examined. Malin has strong reasons to let my masters compromise themselves; he is seeking to get them killed out of his way.”
”And I, who don't know anything of the general plan of the affair,”
cried Laurence, ”how can I warn Georges, Riviere, and Moreau? Where are they?--However, let us think only of my cousins and the d'Hauteserres; you must catch up with them, no matter what it costs.”
”The telegraph goes faster than the best horse,” said Michu; ”and of all the n.o.bles concerned in this conspiracy your cousins are the closest watched. If I can find them, they must be hidden here and kept here till the affair is over. Their poor father may have had a foreboding when he set me to search for this hiding-place; perhaps he felt that his sons would be saved here.”
”My mare is from the stables of the Comte d'Artois,--she is the daughter of his finest English horse,” said Laurence; ”but she has already gone sixty miles, she would drop dead before you reached them.”
”Mine is in good condition,” replied Michu; ”and if you did sixty miles I shall have only thirty to do.”
”Nearer forty,” she said, ”they have been walking since dark. You will overtake them beyond Lagny, at Coupvrai, where they expected to be at daybreak. They are disguised as sailors, and will enter Paris by the river on some vessel. This,” she added, taking half of her mother's wedding-ring from her finger, ”is the only thing which will make them trust you; they have the other half. The keeper of Couvrai is the father of one of their soldiers; he has hidden them tonight in a hut in the forest deserted by charcoal-burners. They are eight in all, Messieurs d'Hauteserre and four others are with my cousins.”
”Mademoiselle, no one is looking for the others! let them save themselves as they can; we must think only of the Messieurs de Simeuse.
It is enough just to warn the rest.”
”What! abandon the Hauteserres? never!” she said. ”They must all perish or be saved together!”
”Only petty n.o.blemen!” remarked Michu.
”They are only chevaliers, I know that,” she replied, ”but they are related to the Cinq-Cygne and Simeuse blood. Save them all, and advise them how best to regain this forest.”
”The gendarmes are here,--don't you hear them? they are holding a council of war.”
”Well, you have twice had luck to-night; go! bring my cousins here and hide them in these vaults; they'll be safe from all pursuit--Alas! I am good for nothing!” she cried, with rage; ”I should be only a beacon to light the enemy--but the police will never imagine that my cousins are in the forest if they see me at my ease. So the question resolves itself into this: how can we get five good horses to bring them in six hours from Lagny to the forest,--five horses to be killed and hidden in some thicket.”
”And the money?” said Michu, who was thinking deeply as he listened to the young countess.
”I gave my cousins a hundred louis this evening,” she replied.
”I'll answer for them!” cried Michu. ”But once hidden here you must not attempt to see them. My wife, or the little one, shall bring them food twice a week. But, as I can't be sure of what may happen to me, remember, mademoiselle, in case of trouble, that the main beam in my hay-loft has been bored with an auger. In the hole, which is plugged with a bit of wood, you will find a plan showing how to reach this spot.