Part 28 (2/2)
”Yes--and they had their treasure. They had good fortune, or else they were more clever than other men; for they had the Imperial treasure to escort, and could take any man's horse for the carriages in which also they had placed their own treasure. It was Captain Darragon who held the appointment, and the other--the Colonel--had attached himself to him as volunteer. For it was at Vilna that the last thread of discipline was broken, and every man did as he wished.”
”They did not come to Kowno?” asked Mathilde, who had a clear mind, and that grasp of a situation which more often falls to the lot of the duller s.e.x.
”They did not come to Kowno. They would turn south at Vilna. It was as well. At Kowno the soldiers had broken into the magazines--the brandy was poured out in the streets. The men were lying there, the drunken and the dead all confused together on the snow. But there would be no confusion the next morning; for all would be dead.”
”Was it at Kowno that you left Monsieur d'Arragon?” asked Desiree, in a sharp voice.
”No--no. We quitted Kowno together, and parted on the heights above the town. He would not trust me--monsieur le marquis--he was afraid that I should get at the brandy. And he was right. I only wanted the opportunity. He is a strong one--that!” And Barlasch held up a warning hand, as if to make known to all and sundry that it would be inadvisable to trifle with Louis d'Arragon.
He drew the icicles one by one from his whiskers with a wry face indicative of great agony, and threw them down on the mat.
”Well,” he said, after a pause, to Desiree, ”have you made your choice?”
Desiree was reading the letter again, and before she could answer, a quick knock on the front door startled them all. Barlasch's face broke into that broad smile which was only called forth by the presence of danger.
”Is it the patron?” he asked in a whisper, with his hand on the heavy bolts affixed by that pious Hanseatic merchant who held that if G.o.d be in the house there is no need of watchmen.
”Yes,” answered Mathilde. ”Open quickly.”
Sebastian came in with a light step. He was like a man long saddled with a burden of which he had at length been relieved.
”Ah! What news?” he asked, when he recognised Barlasch.
”Nothing that you do not know already, monsieur,” replied Barlasch, ”except that the husband of Mademoiselle is well and on the road to Warsaw. Here--read that.”
And he took the letter from Desiree's hand.
”I knew he would come back safely,” said Desiree; and that was all.
Sebastian read the letter in one quick glance--and then fell to thinking.
”It is time to quit Dantzig,” said Barlasch quietly, as if he had divined the old man's thoughts. ”I know Rapp. There will be trouble--here, on the Vistula.”
But Sebastian dismissed the suggestion with a curt shake of the head.
Barlasch's attention had been somewhat withdrawn by a smell of cooking meat, to which he opened his nostrils frankly and noisily after the manner of a dog.
”Then it remains,” he said, looking towards the kitchen, ”for Mademoiselle to make her choice.”
”There is no choice,” replied Desiree, ”I shall be ready to go with you--when you have eaten.”
”Good,” said Barlasch, and the word applied as well to Lisa, who was beckoning to him.
CHAPTER XXI. ON THE WARSAW ROAD.
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