CHAPTER XIV. OF WHAT BEFELL AT REAUX. At my captor's bidding I mountedthe horse which they had untethered from the carriage, and we startedoff along the road which the coach itself had disappeared upon a momentbefore. But we travelled at a gentle trot, which, after that evening'sfurious riding, was welcome to me.
With bitterness I reflected as I rode that the very moment at whichMademoiselle de Canaples had brought herself to think better of me waslike to prove the last we should spend together. Yet notaltogether bitter was that reflection; for with it came also theconsolation--whereof I had told her--that I had not been taken beforeshe had had cause to change her mind concerning me.
That she should care for me was too preposterous an idea to benourished, and, indeed, it was better--much better--that M. de Montresorhad come before I, grown sanguine as lovers will, had again earned herscorn by showing her what my heart contained. Much better was it that Ishould pass for ever out of her life--as, indeed, methought I waslike to pass out of all life--whilst I could leave in her mind a kindremembrance and a grateful regret, free from the stain that a subsequentpossible presumption of mine might have cast o'er it.
Then my thoughts shifted to Andrea. St. Auban would hear of my removal,and I cared not to think of what profit he might derive from it. ToYvonne also his presence must hereafter be a menace, and in that whereintonight he had failed, he might, again, succeed. It was at this junctureof my reverie that M. de Montresor's pleasant young voice aroused me.
"You appear downcast, M. de Luynes."
"I, downcast!" I echoed, throwing back my head and laughing. "Nay. I wasbut thinking.
"Believe me, M. de Luynes," he said kindly, "when I tell you thatit grieves me to be charged with this matter. I have done my best tocapture you. That was my duty. But I should have rejoiced had I failedwith the consciousness of having done all in my power."
"Thanks, Montresor," I murmured, and silence followed.
"I have been thinking, Monsieur," he went on presently, "that possiblythe absence of your sword causes you discomfort."
"Eh? Discomfort? It does, most damnably!"
"Give me your parole d'honneur that you will attempt no escape, and notonly shall your sword be returned to you, but you shall travel to Pariswith all comfort and dignity."
Now, so amazed was I that I paused to stare at the officer who was youngenough to make such a proposal to a man of my reputation. He turned hisface towards me, and in the moonlight I could make out his questioningglance.
"Eh, bien, Monsieur?"
"I am more than grateful to you, M. de Montresor," I replied, "and Ifreely give you my word of honour to seek no means of eluding you, norto avail myself of any that may be presented to me."
I said this loud enough for those behind to hear, so that no surprisewas evinced when the lieutenant bade the man who bore my sword return itto me.
If he who may chance to read these simple pages shall have gatheredaught of my character from their perusal, he will marvel, perchance,that I should give the lieutenant my parole, instead rather of watchingfor an opportunity to--at least--attempt an escape. Preeminent in mythoughts, however, stood at that moment the necessity to remove St.Auban, and methought that by acting as I did I saw a way by which,haply, I might accomplish this. What might thereafter befall me seemedof little moment.
"M. de Montresor," I said presently, "your kindness impels me to set afurther tax upon your generosity."
"That is, Monsieur?"
"Bid your men fall back a little, and I will tell you."
He made a sign to his troopers, and when the distance between us hadbeen sufficiently widened, I began:
"There is a man at present across the river, yonder, who has done meno little injury, and with whom I have a rendezvous at nine o'clockto-night at St. Sulpice des Reaux, where our swords are to determine thedifference between us. I crave, Monsieur, your permission to keep thatappointment."
"Impossible!" he answered curtly.
I took a deep breath like a man who is about to jump an obstacle in hispath.
"Why impossible, Monsieur?"
"Because you are a prisoner, and therefore no longer under obligation tokeep appointments."
"How would you feel, Montresor, if, burning to be avenged upon a manwho had done you irreparable wrong, you were arrested an hour beforethe time at which you were to meet this man, sword in hand, and yourcaptor--whose leave you craved to keep the assignation--answered youwith the word 'impossible'?"
"Yes, yes, Monsieur," he replied impatiently. "But you forget myposition. Let us suppose that I allow you to go to St. Sulpice desReaux. What if you do not return?"
"You mistrust me?" I exclaimed, my hopes melting.
"You misapprehend me. I mean, what if you are killed?"
"I do not think that I shall be."
"Ah! But what if you are? What shall I say to my Lord Cardinal?"
"Dame! That I am dead, and that he is saved the trouble of hanging me.The most he can want of me is my life. Let us suppose that you hadcome an hour later. You would have been forced to wait until after theencounter, and, did I fall, matters would be no different."
The young man fell to thinking, but I, knowing that it is not well tolet the young ponder overlong if you would bend them to your wishes,broke in upon his reflections--"See, Montresor, yonder are the lights ofBlois; by eight o'clock we shall be in the town. Come; grant me leave tocross the Loire, and by ten o'clock, or half-past at the latest, I shallreturn to sup with you or I shall be dead. I swear it."
"Were I in your position," he answered musingly, "I know how I would betreated, and, pardieu! come what may I shall deal with you accordingly.You may go to your assignation, M. de Luynes, and may God prosper you."
And thus it came to pass that shortly after eight o'clock, albeita prisoner, I rode into the courtyard of the Lys de France, and,alighting, I stepped across the threshold of the inn, and strode up toa table at which I had espied Michelot. He sat nursing a huge measureof wine, into the depths of which he was gazing pensively, with anexpression so glum upon his weather-beaten countenance that it defiesdepicting. So deep was he in his meditations, that albeit I stood by thetable surveying him for a full minute, he took no heed of me.
"Allons, Michelot!" I said at length. "Wake up."
He started up with a cry of amazement; surprise chased away the griefthat had been on his face, and a moment later joy unfeigned, and good tosee, took the place of surprise.
"You have escaped, Monsieur!" he cried, and albeit caution made himutter the words beneath his breath, a shout seemed to lurk somewhere inthe whisper.
Pressing his hand I sat down and briefly told him how matters stood, andhow I came to be for the moment free. And when I had done I bade him,since his wound had not proved serious, to get his hat and cloak and gowith me to find a boat.
He obeyed me, and a quarter of an hour after we had quitted the hostelryhe was rowing me across the stream, whilst, wrapped in my cloak, I satin the stern, thinking of Yvonne.
"Monsieur," said Michelot, "observe how swift is the stream. If I wereto let the boat drift we should be at Tours to-morrow, and from there itwould be easy to defy pursuit. We have enough money to reach Spain. Whatsay you, Monsieur?"
"Say, you rascal? Why, bend your back to the work and set me ashore bySt. Sulpice in a quarter of an hour, or I'll forget that you have beenmy friend. Would you see me dishonoured?"
"Sooner than see you dead," he grumbled as he resumed his task.Thereafter, whilst he rowed, Michelot entertained me with some quaintideas touching that which fine gentlemen call honour, and to what sorrypasses it was wont to bring them, concluding by thanking God that he wasno gentleman and had no honour to lead him into mischief.
At last, however, our journey came to an end, and I sprang ashore somefive hundred paces from the little chapel, and almost exactly oppositethe Chateau de Canaples. I stood for a moment gazing across the water atthe lighted windows of the chateau, wondering which of those eyes thatlooked out up
on the night might be that of Yvonne's chamber.
Then, bidding Michelot await me, or follow did I not return in half anhour, I turned and moved away towards the chapel.
There is a clearing in front of the little white edifice--which ratherthan a temple is but a monument to the martyr who is said to haveperished on that spot in the days before Clovis.
As I advanced into the centre of this open patch of ground, and stoodclear of the black silhouettes of the trees, cast about me by the moon,two men appeared to detach themselves from the side wall of the chapel,and advanced to meet me.
Albeit they were wrapped in their cloaks--uptilted behind by theirprotruding scabbards--it was not difficult to tell the tall figure andstately bearing of St. Auban and the mincing gait of Vilmorin.
I doffed my hat in a grave salutation, which was courteously returned.
"I trust, Messieurs, that I have not kept you waiting?"
"I was on the point of expressing that very hope, Monsieur," returnedSt. Auban. "We have but arrived. Do you come alone?"
"As you perceive."
"Hum! M. le Vicomte, then, will act for both of us."
I bowed in token of my satisfaction, and without more ado cast aside mycloak, pleased to see that the affair was to be conducted with decencyand politeness, as such matters should ever be conducted, albeitimpoliteness may have marked their origin.
The Marquis, having followed my example and divested himself of hiscloak and hat, unsheathed his rapier and delivered it to Vilmorin, whocame across with it to where I stood. When he was close to me I sawthat he was deadly pale; his teeth chattered, and the hand that held theweapon shook as with a palsy.
"Mu--Monsieur," he stammered, "will it please you to lend me your swordthat I may mu-measure it?"
"What formalities!" I exclaimed with an amused smile, as I complied withhis request. "I am afraid you have caught a chill, Vicomte. The nightair is little suited to health so delicate."
He answered me with a baleful glance, as silently he took my sword andset it--point to hilt--with St. Auban's. He appeared to have found someslight difference in the length, for he took two steps away from me,holding the weapons well in the light, where for a moment he surveyedthem attentively. His hands shook so that the blades clattered oneagainst the other the while. But, of a sudden, taking both rapiers bythe hilt, he struck the blades together with a ringing clash, thenflung them both behind him as far as he could contrive, leaving methunderstruck with amazement, and marvelling whether fear had robbed himof his wits.
Not until I perceived that the trees around me appeared to spring intolife did it occur to me that that clashing of blades was a signal, andthat I was trapped. With the realisation of it I was upon Vilmorin in abound, and with both hands I had caught the dog by the throat before hethought of flight. The violence of my onslaught bore him to the ground,and I, not to release my choking grip, went with him.
For a moment we lay together where we had fallen, his slender bodytwisting and writhing under me, his swelling face upturned and hisprotruding, horror-stricken eyes gazing into mine that were fierce andpitiless. Voices rang above me; someone stooped and strove to pluck mefrom my victim; then below the left shoulder I felt a sting of pain,first cold then hot, and I knew that I had been stabbed.
Again I felt the blade thrust in, lower down and driven deeper; then, asthe knife was for the second time withdrawn, and my flesh sucked at thesteel,--the pain of it sending a shudder through me,--the instinct ofpreservation overcame the sweet lust to strangle Vilmorin. I let him goand, staggering to my feet, I turned to face those murderers who strucka defenceless man behind.
Swords gleamed around me: one, two, three, four, five, six, I counted,and stood weak and dazed from loss of blood, gazing stupidly at thewhite blades. Had I but had my sword I should have laid about me, andgone down beneath their blows as befits a soldier. But the absence ofthat trusty friend left me limp and helpless--cowed for the first timesince I had borne arms.
Of a sudden I became aware that St. Auban stood opposite to me, hand onhip, surveying me with a malicious leer. As our eyes met--"So, mastermeddler," quoth he mockingly, "you crow less lustily than is your wont."
"Hound!" I gasped, choking with rage, "if you are a man, if there be aspark of pride or honour left in your lying, cowardly soul, order yourassassins to give me my sword, and, wounded though I be, I'll fight withyou this duel that you lured me here to fight."
He laughed harshly.
"I told you but this morning, Master de Luynes, that a St. Auban doesnot fight men of your stamp. You forced a rendezvous upon me; you shallreap the consequences."
Despite the weakness arising from loss of blood, I sprang towards him,beside myself with fury. But ere I had covered half the distancethat lay between us my arms were gripped from behind, and in my spentcondition I was held there, powerless, at the Marquis's mercy. He cameslowly forward until we were but some two feet apart. For a second hestood leering at me, then, raising his hand, he struck me--struck a manwhose arms another held!--full upon the face. Passion for the momentlent me strength, and in that moment I had wrenched my right arm freeand returned his blow with interest.
With an oath he got out a dagger that hung from his baldrick.
"Sang du Christ! Take that, you dog!" he snarled, burying the blade inmy breast as he spoke.
"My God! You are murdering me!" I gasped.
"Have you discovered it? What penetration!" he retorted, and those abouthim laughed at his indecent jest!
He made a sign, and the man who had held me withdrew his hands. Istaggered forward, deprived of his support, then a crashing blow took meacross the head.
I swayed for an instant, and with arms upheld I clutched at the air,as if I sought, by hanging to it, to save myself from falling; then themoon appeared to go dark, a noise as of the sea beating upon its shorefilled my ears, and I seemed to be falling--falling--falling.
A voice that buzzed and vibrated oddly, growing more distant at eachword, reached me as I sank.
"Come," it said. "Fling that carrion into the river."
Then nothingness engulfed me.