CHAPTER XII

  FLORINE TO THE RESCUE

  A shroud of consuming terror now possessed me. I crouched in the dankcorner clutching my sword, listening, vainly listening, for some soundout of which to conjure up an assassin. A rat ran across my foot.Screaming out I bounded erect and beat about me with blind desperation.One hand touched the other and shrank from its mate. They were as ice.

  Oh, God, the horrid silence! How weightily it bore upon me, strippingme of voice, of courage and of hope. How many, many times I bracedmyself against the wall, cold with fear at the apprehension of anattack by some demon of the night. How many, many times I sank againinto the same dumb misery when no enemy appeared to do me hurt.

  So long it had been since the tones of human speech blessed my ears, Ialmost hoped the marshal's men might come, that I might hear his sterncommand, "Hang him to yonder window ledge." A rasping thirst roastedmy throat until my tongue gritted and ground as a rusted clapper in abell. I touched it with my hand. It was as dry as Broussard's.

  Broussard! A quiver in the musty air set me all a shudder; in everyrustle I felt again the last convulsions of the dead. Dull lightsgathered when I closed my eyes, and rested upon his swollen features,their white eyes following me in hate.

  Coolly and logically as if it concerned someone else, the reason of itall crept into my morbid brain. I was mad; mad from hunger, thirst andterror. Yes, mad, and felt not one whit sorry of it; nay, rejoicedrather, for it meant a freedom of the spirit. So insidiously thisknowledge forced itself upon me, it brought no shock, I even dimlywondered that any other condition ever existed. Verily, men arehappier for a gentle frenzy. Then, indeed, are all things leveled, allbarriers removed. Gone were all my pigmy troubles, vanished intonothingness. Engulfed in a common ruin lay all fragments of desire;the search for reward, the dread of punishment--all petty figments ofthe imagination were powerful now no more. The fall of reason crushedevery human hope and dulled the edge of every human fear. What cared Inow for food, for water; for honor or for shame? My mind, imperial andfree from artificial restraints, plunged riotously into forbiddenrealms, I reveled in the exaltation of chainless thought, and drankfrom the deepest wells of rebellion delicious draughts of secret sin,thanking, yea thanking, this sweet madness which gave a gloriousindependence.

  What repugnance had I now for yon piece of foul and rotting carrion!What mattered if but lately a breathing man it had strangled in mygrip. By the gods, a knightly feat and most bravely done! And Ilaughed at my former fear, not loud, but such as laughed the fiends ofhell when Lucifer rose against his Prince. Low I chuckled, thenshivered at my own unnatural voice.

  Dead now to every sense of physical loathing I advanced steadfastlytowards where he lay. Shorn of human companions my wretchedness soughta lonely comradeship with the piece of mortal clay. Turning now andagain to beat back some skinny hand which snatched my garments, to slapin the face some evil sprite which thrust its sneer upon me, I walkedin resolution across the floor. I fancied again I heard the tread ofmen in the passage. Pleased at the babble of the children of my ownimagination, I stood to listen. Yes, by the wit of a fool, I'llindulge the jest, a joyous jibe and a merry.

  The low shuffle of cautious feet came again. The latch clanked ever sosoftly as if some hand without lifted it gently, oh so gently raisedit. "Ha! here you are, seeking to frighten me again, but I know youwell. No, no, you'll scare me no more; I'll play a merry game withyou." So I hid myself in the dark, and thought to play a prank uponthe evil Thing. Held my breath.

  Elated to find I owned so wondrously fertile a brain I saw the dooropen little by little without a creak. A current of liberated airbrushed by my cheek. So real it was, I smiled. The door swung widerand wider yet, in the dark I saw it. Verily the sight of a madman issharp. The wind blew more chill and strong. I saw a gleam peepingbeneath a cloak as from a hidden lanthorn; I bethought me I would catchthe tiny wanderer from the floor and hold it in my hand. It camecrawling and crawling, on and on, wavering to my feet. So many timesthat night had I manned myself valiantly to fight a shadow, I onlylaughed in silence and contempt at this.

  Behold the folly of a madman's thought. Yet the creation of it allgave me exquisite pleasure, as a child might find delight in somestrange toy from which it could call weird shapes at will. On it movedwith a noiseless, gliding motion; now inside the door, now coming,coming, coming--nearly to me. Now it let fall a timorous blade oflight along the floor. It reached Broussard's body. Its foot struckhim. It stooped, threw the light full upon him. Open fell theconcealing mantle, showing the barren stones, the corpse, the ghastlyupturned face of the strangled man.

  The woman--for it was a woman--dropped to her knees beside him, calledhim, felt of his clammy head, and suffered but a single scream of swiftaffright to leave her lips. From the unhooded lanthorn burst out aspreading yellow glow. Her scream awoke me to a consciousness ofreality. From my own unlocked tongue of terror came its answer. Ijoined my voice to hers, defied the hush of slumbering centuries andfilled that quaking room with a perfect deluge of reverberatingshrieks. Many others, men, with cloaks, some having lights, some none,rushed in behind the woman. From that time I knew nothing.

  * * * * * *

  I awakened from a dreamy languor; a subtle essence of perfume floatedthrough my senses. A gentle touch of some kindly hand was bathing mytemples. Fearful lest this sweet illusion vanish with the others, Ikept my eyes firmly closed, and soon abandoned myself wholly to thesubduing influences of natural slumber.

  "Has he stirred, Florine?"

  "No, Monsieur, but his head is cooler now--he sleeps, hush! Perhapsanother day he will be better. How he raved through the night. Poor,young gentleman, he quite exhausted himself."

  "Ah, well, Florine, he is young, and with such nurses as thou andNannette he will of a surety recover."

  I turned my head and smiled a feeble recognition of Jerome and Florine.The other woman I had never seen; she was much older than Florine andhad a kind, motherly face.

  "What day is it?"

  "The morning of Sunday."

  It was Wednesday night when Jerome and I went to the ball.

  I looked about me. The lodgings were those I had taken at the AustrianArms, yet much changed in little things. The vase of flowers there inthe window, the neat-swept hearth, the cheerful fire, and thatindefinable something which gives a touch of womanliness to a room.Florine, perhaps.

  "Ugh! I'm so glad to be here," and I shuddered at the remembrance ofmy prison and suffering.

  "Poor dear," said the older woman in a voice full of sympathy, "don'tworry; you are in comfort now, and will soon be strong again."

  "Am I wounded in any wise?" I inquired, for I knew not the manner of mycoming there.

  "No, no, my lad," broke in Jerome's hearty reassurance, "not a bit,just worn and starved out. Truly, boy, you had a rough adventure. By'Od's blood, I'd hate to have the like! Has he taken any food Florine?"

  "Nothing but the wine, and a sup or two of broth. Here is somethingfor him now," and she brought me a most tempting array of soup, hotviands and victuals of which I feared to eat as I desired.

  Though Florine and Jerome would not permit me to disturb myself withvain conversation, yet by dint of questions and listening when theytalked apart, thinking I slept, I found how it all came about. Itseems Florine saw and recognized me when I returned to the gaming room,having left Madame la Princesse. She knew too, in some way which I didnot learn, that neither Broussard nor I had left Bertrand's that night.This, though the Provost's men had been searching the city for us both.She kept her knowledge to herself. When the turbulence calmed downsomewhat and sentries were placed to guard the house, she occupiedherself in slipping about looking for my hiding place. It took but alittle while for her, familiar as she was with the house, to find theroom where Broussard and I had taken refuge. Listening at the door sheheard our angry voices and the scuffle within.
This may have been whenI was choking him. Horrible! horrible!

  At any rate she feared to intrude, and at once set out to seek help.The girl throughout acted with astonishing promptness and judgment.Florine had recognized Madame la Princesse--all Paris knew theeccentric lady--so went straight to her. At first denied admission shesent up a note couched in such terms as gained for her an immediateprivate interview--indeed the Princess herself was careful it should bestrictly private.

  Madame knew nothing of me except the request I made concerning Jerome,and sending the papers to the Austrian Arms. Florine went withoutdelay to that place. This was about midday. Meanwhile Jerome, muchtroubled that I did not appear during the night, pursued our originalplan of watching the house, and arranged his men at windows, and in thestreet, in such a way as not to attract attention. One of them hadseen me working at the window but never dreamed it was I. Jerome foundthe house already doubly guarded by the Provost's men, to his infinitedisgust. He was a handy chap though, and not to be outdone. Dressinghimself as a clumsy lout, he found little difficulty in worming thetransactions of the night before out of one of the guard off duty. Adrink or two together at the sign of the "Yellow Flagon" fetched thisinformation.

  Jerome was much wearied through his long watching and anxiety when hereturned to the Austrian Arms. The hostler at the inn turned him asidefrom the front door by a gesture, so that he entered by another way.Claude acquainted him that a lady in the public room desired to speakwith M. Jerome de Greville, and would not be denied. Jerome's customwith visitors was to see them first himself, before Claude told themwhether he was in or no.

  Peeping through an aperture he saw the lady walking impatiently up anddown the room, tapping at the window, mending the fire, and expressingher haste in many other pettish manners so truly feminine. It wasFlorine. He knew the girl well from his frequenting Bertrand's duringthis piece of business. Jerome sent her word he would be in, andchanging his costume to one he usually wore, presented himself beforeher in the public room.

  "Is it I you seek, M. de Greville, Mademoiselle?" he inquired, politely.

  "Oh! Monsieur de Greville, it is you; I'm so glad." She came forwardwith a pretty air of perplexity and surprise, for Florine had a daintywoman's way about her, showing even through her present trouble. Shebore herself more steadily that she had not to deal with somesevere-faced stranger, but a gallant gentleman, whose mien was not thatfrom which timid maidens were prone to fly.

  "Oh, Monsieur de Greville, I know not what to say, now that I am wellmet with you."

  "And by my faith, Mademoiselle, I am sure no word of mine would gracethose pretty lips as well as thine own sweet syllables. So _I_ can nottell you what to say."

  Florine pouted her dissent, yet was not in earnest angered--she was awoman. Jerome saw her business lay deeper than mere jest and badinage,so he spoke her more seriously.

  "I pray you Mademoiselle--Florine?--am I right? Be seated."

  Florine had no thought for gallantries; she declined the profferedseat, and, standing, proceeded at once to the point of her mission.

  "There is a young gentleman in our house," and she blushed a little,Jerome declared to me afterwards, "in Bertrand's wine room--you knowthe place? locked up, and I am not certain whether he lives or is dead.I can not tell Monsieur his name, but you know him. Oh, he was kind tome, and I would willingly do something to save him. It is so hard tobe only a woman. The Provost has the house guarded."

  "I know it," Jerome put in drily.

  "This gentleman gave your name and lodgings to the lady who was withhim there last night, and she it was who sent you the packet." Florinehad run on hurriedly, unheeding Jerome's blank look of astonishment.This was probably a shrewd guess on her part, yet it squarely struckthe mark.

  "Lady? Sent the papers? Who? What lady?" Jerome asked before shecould answer anything.

  "That I must not tell, Monsieur. Oh, come, quick; get him away fromthere; if our people find him they may do him harm. Monsieur is abrave gentleman, a friend of his, is it not true? Come."

  Jerome drew the facts pretty well out of the excited girl, knowingsomewhat of the circumstances and guessing the rest--all in anexceeding short space of time. Florine told him as accurately as shecould in what room I lay, leaving him to locate the window from thestreet. From this point the plan was simple enough. Jerome andFlorine arrived at Bertrand's by different routes, Florine passing inunconcernedly, and Jerome, clad again as a stupid country knave, walkedby the house to discover my outer window.

  It was at this time that the falling of the spur conveyed to him theintelligence of my life and place of confinement. After this Jeromehad to depend greatly upon the quick-witted woman.

  It would be a long story, and a bootless, were I to tell how it fellout that Florine had a friend, the same kind-faced woman who helped herwatch beside my bed; the window of this friend's garret room openedalmost directly opposite Florine's own poor apartment. Only a narrow,dingy alley lay between; so scant was the space the upper stories camenear to touching across it. Florine's friend, after some tearfulpersuasion, consented to aid the rescue of such a gallant gentleman asI was described to be. The girl could come and go at will. The friendpermitted Jerome and three of his men to hide in her room. From herwindow Jerome cast a light cord into Florine's window, she drawing astouter rope across with it, and made fast. It now became a triflingfeat for these nimble adventurers to swing themselves across toFlorine's room, but twelve feet or so away. Once inside Bertrand'sthey proceeded with abundant caution, all of which near came to naughtthrough Florine's sudden shriek and my own nervous clamor. It shamedme heartily.

  "Truly, comrade, thou hast good lungs," Jerome told me days afterward."It took all our strength to shut thee of thy wind."

  When the four men found me a helpless body in their hands, they weregreatly troubled. However, Florine insisted that I be carried to herroom where she could conceal me.

  Once there they found means to truss me up like a bale of merchandiseand sling me across the alley again, whence I was conveyed, stillunconscious, through out-of-the-way streets to the Austrian Arms.

  And so it was I came to my strength, safe in my own lodgings in Rue St.Denis, with Florine and her kind-hearted friend to nurse me.