Vayenne

  CHAPTER XIII

  OBEDIENCE AND TRUST

  Some two hours ago the porter had opened the small door in the highwall, and before he could prevent her, or ask her business, a woman,heavily cloaked, had stepped hastily in, and bade him close the dooragain. He obeyed her command almost unconsciously, and then recoveredhimself sufficiently to ask the meaning of this sudden intrusion.

  The woman laughed as she let the cloak, which she had held lightlyacross her, fall apart.

  "Your wits move slowly, my friend. An enemy might enter while you weremaking up your mind to ask his business. Go and tell your mistressthat Mademoiselle de Liancourt would speak with her."

  Countess Elisabeth met her with a smiling welcome and outstretchedarms, yet Lucille, who was with her when the message was brought, hadseen an expression in her face which was certainly not one ofpleasure, and was surprised at the sudden change as the door openedand Christine entered.

  "Forgive me coming to you in this fashion, Elisabeth," Christine said."I knew I should find a safe retreat here."

  "Retreat?"

  "Yes, or hiding-place if you will, for that is the true meaning of mycoming. I would not have it known that I am in Vayenne for a while."

  "Take the cloak, Lucille," said the Countess, lifting it fromChristine's shoulders.

  "Thank you; and Lucille, although it is a well-worn one, see that itis not thrown away, for it is borrowed," laughed Christine; and thenwhen the girl had gone she went on. "I am travel-stained altogether,Elisabeth, and look strangely out of keeping with the comfort of thisroom. You will give me food presently, and perhaps lend me a gown; weare sufficiently of a size for that, I think. I have not had myclothes off for three nights."

  "I do not understand," said Elisabeth.

  "How should you? But you know that I went to Passey?"

  "I have heard of that disaster and the death of the Duke," saidElisabeth.

  "All Vayenne has heard of that, I suppose," said Christine.

  "Such ill news travels quickly," was the answer; "if it is ill newsaltogether. Perhaps for the country's sake the death is not such anunfortunate one."

  "You did not know Maurice," said Christine quietly.

  "You must not be angry with me," the Countess went on. "I am thinkingof the country, not of the individual, and I am sorry for the poorboy. But I do not understand why you should want to be in Vayennesecretly."

  "A duke is not murdered without some upheaval in the state," saidChristine. "The Duke's partisans may be the next victims."

  "Is your life in jeopardy, Christine?"

  "For three days I have been hiding in a charcoal-burner's hut. Ishould hardly have done so without good reason. Captain Lemasle savedme when we were attacked in the woods, and only to-night have Iventured to the city. I came by the North Gate, since it was nearestto your house, entering in the company of some market women, borrowingone of their cloaks to conceal myself as much as possible. How CaptainLemasle has fared, I know not. Let me see him if he comes, Elisabeth.He knows where I was bent on seeking sanctuary."

  "But Felix----"

  "I know. He will be Duke," said Christine, interrupting her.

  "And powerful to shield you," said Elisabeth.

  "He sent an escort to shield Maurice. It failed miserably in itspurpose. Maybe Felix thinks, as you do, that Maurice's death happenedfortunately for Montvilliers."

  "Even then, I do not understand your position, Christine. Is not Felixto know that you are in Vayenne?"

  "Not yet. He will know presently. As you love me, Elisabeth, let mybeing here remain a secret at present."

  "But why?"

  "Have you never heard that Felix wishes to marry me?" Christine asked.

  "Yes; I have heard so. I know nothing of the truth of the story," saidthe Countess.

  "It is true enough. Oh, there is no romance in it, Elisabeth. I havesome power and wealth in the state. It might be a good marriage forFelix. There you have the whole truth of it."

  "And you do not love him?"

  "I do not think so. How can I tell? I have lived all these years onthe earth without knowing what love is. Love, perhaps, finds no easyroad into the Castle of Vayenne."

  "Still, without love, you would marry him?" said the Countess.

  "For the good of the country, perhaps; but if I do, he will probablylive to wish that he had found another wife, even if she cost him acrown."

  "Surely, Christine, if you have not learnt to love, you have learnthow to hate."

  "Time enough for that when Felix and I are married. Will you keep mehere for a while, and let it be a secret?"

  "Yes; I promise. I will, even at the risk of Felix's anger. Am I notbrave?" And she laughed lightheartedly.

  "Then come and pick me out a gown, the prettiest you have, Elisabeth.I long to shake off the charcoal dust and the dirt of the highway. Iwant to feel just a woman, and look pretty again."

  "Surely this Captain Lemasle-- Did you not say he might cometo-night?" said the Countess.

  Christine laughed.

  "This old house gives you romantic notions, my dear. Let us callLucille, and bid her help to choose the gown, for with such ideas inyour head you may be jealous of me, and foist upon me some cast-offgarment that no girl could possibly look charming in. You are sopretty yourself, Elisabeth, that I am inclined not to trust you inthis affair." And with their arms about each other, they went out ofthe room, calling for Lucille.

  Captain Lemasle did not come, and only the porter heard anydisturbance in the square. It woke him from a doze, but notsufficiently to send him out to see what the cause of the noise mightbe. He was a sleepy old man at the best of times, and if there wereany breaking of heads being done, he argued that he was safer in hislittle lodge on the inside of the wall.

  They talked no more of politics that night. For one thing, Lucille waspresent, and this was a relief, for both Christine and the Countesswere busy with their own thoughts. Countess Elisabeth had told Felixthat they had come to the parting of the ways. She loved him, of thatshe made no secret, but she had been unselfish enough to urge hismarriage with Christine. His good came before her desire. With thedeath of Maurice, it seemed to her that all reason why Felix shouldmarry Christine vanished; and since circumstances had thus been kindto her, she looked for the reward of her great unselfishness. WhenFelix had come to her the other day, she had fully expected him torejoice that all barriers between them were now cast down. He had notdone so; he still saw a necessity for marrying Christine; and althoughtoo proud to question him closely, she had made him understand thatfor the future things must be different between them. Perhaps sheunderstood his character more thoroughly, at this moment, than she hadever done; but she loved him. Hers was not that love which lies closeto the borderland of hatred; wounded, it yet found excuses for him.To-night she had learned something of Christine's feelings toward him.She might marry him, but time could never bring love into that union.Christine had declared that it would bring hatred. Felix must be savedfrom this, and the Countess tried to persuade herself that she thoughtonly of him in this matter. She would keep Christine's secret. Felixshould not know that she was in Vayenne; more, if necessary, she wouldkeep Christine a prisoner for a time, so that Felix might understandhow easily he could do without her, that he was free to marry where hewould. This Lemasle was Christine's lover, surely, since she had notdenied it. Elisabeth might presently betray this secret to Felix."Yes, I may do that," she said as she came to this climax of herthoughts in her room that night, and the expression on the fair facewhich her mirror reflected almost startled her. For an instant she sawdeeper into her own soul than she dared to look as a rule. She wasfrightened, but not repentant.

  And Christine had been silent that evening, too. She knew nothing ofFelix's visits to the Place Beauvoisin. She knew that he did notreally love her; she believed that he did not love any woman. She hadcome to Countess Elisabeth for refuge and with the intention oftelling her the whole truth of the attack in the forest; butEli
sabeth's evident partisanship of Felix had stopped the tale.Christine had to give some other reason for her desire to remainconcealed. The fact that Felix wished to make her his wife, and herreluctance to such a union, seemed a reason that would be most likelyto appeal to another woman, and the introduction of Lemasle's nameadded force to the argument; so Christine laughed and spoke no wordsof denial. But there was little laughter in her heart as she lockedherself in her room. Lemasle had not come. He had said he would, andshe knew him well enough to understand that he was unable to keep hispromise. He had not succeeded in entering Vayenne without being seen,and she dreaded to think what his fate might be, once he fell into thehands of Felix. There was something strange about Elisabeth. Herwelcome had been forced. She had been under some restraint all theevening. It was doubtful if this house was a safe refuge after all.What had Roger Herrick done? How had he fared? Brave man as he was,what could he hope to accomplish against Felix? Herrick and Lemaslemight both be taken, and they would both die a speedy death. Felixcould not afford to let such men live, for they knew the truth.

  "God grant he does not silence me before I have called him traitor!"she cried passionately; and then her mood changed suddenly, and a softlook came into her eyes. "I was wrong to let him ride back toVayenne," she murmured; and for a little while she sat thinking, hermental vision reaching far beyond the four walls of her chamber,seeing the rough hut, the smouldering peat fire, and a man kneeling toher, swearing to serve her to the death.

  Suddenly she shook herself free of such dreams. This was no time forvisions. Even now Felix might be planning the death of this man--andof Lemasle. They must be saved. She would go to the castle to-night.The room seemed to have grown hot and stifling, and she threw open thewindow to fill her lungs with the cool night air.

  Below her, the garden was in darkness. The night was overcast, but thetrees were whispering together, and from the distance came the faintmusic of the carillon.

  "I will go," she said, turning quickly from the window. "In somedungeon that music may penetrate to him as he counts the hours todawn--and death. Felix shall listen to me."

  The borrowed cloak was lying on a chair. She hastily wrapped it roundher, and her hand was upon the key in the door when she stopped andturned round sharply.

  "Mademoiselle!"

  There was a face at the open window, a shaggy head that might wellstartle any woman, and two knotted hands grasped the window-frame,the muscles straining as the man drew himself slowly in.

  "Pardon, mademoiselle. I have waited a long time. I knew no other wayto get to you."

  "Jean!"

  "At your service, mademoiselle," said the dwarf as he got into theroom and fell on his knee before her, a strangely grotesque figure,yet surely an honest man.

  "What do you want with me?" Christine asked.

  "I have a message from friend Roger. You are to remain in hiding untilhe sends to you again. Count Felix must believe that Duke Maurice isdead. Since leaving you in the forest, friend Roger has learnt strangethings."

  "What has he learnt?"

  "That Count Felix will never be Duke of Montvilliers," Jean answered.

  "But tell me why? What makes him say this? Come, Jean, tell mequickly. I have no wit to-night to think of questions to drag out yourstory."

  "There is no story to be dragged out, mademoiselle. That is all themessage, all I have to tell."

  "I must know more," said Christine.

  "I know no more," the dwarf answered. "Friend Roger was mysterious. Hewould tell me more presently, he said, but to-night there was work todo; and I have done it, although 'tis a marvel I am here at all. Ihave been hunted half over the city like a rabbit, and for longer thanI care to remember have lain on my stomach on the wall of yondergarden, so still that a cat climbed over me and found nothing strangewith the wall."

  "Where is Roger Herrick?" asked Christine.

  "That he bade me not tell you. He said you would not understand. I donot understand either. It is a place I should not choose to hide in.But there, it's a good thing all animals do not make for the samehole."

  "Is he in danger?"

  "He doesn't seem to think so."

  "Has he been to the castle?"

  "No. Friend Roger would hardly be such a fool as that."

  "He spoke truly; I do not understand," said Christine.

  "So far then he is wise, for he said you would not," Jean answered. "Ihad a message for Captain Lemasle, but he is not here. He also was towait until friend Roger sent for him."

  "You have seen Captain Lemasle?"

  "Yes; but had no word with him. First one man followed me to-night,and I lost him; then presently half a dozen soldiers pounced on me,saying Count Felix had need of me. I was in a strait how to breakloose and deliver my message. I said I was willing to go to the Count,but why should we not drink first; and as we went I got free. It was along chase, mademoiselle, and presently I turned into the square here,and leaped on to the wall, and lay there. The crowd rushed by, andfell upon another man in the square--the captain."

  "And took him?" said Christine.

  "He fought as a man should, but there were fifty against him. Then heasked who they had been hunting, and when they told him, he shoutedout that I might tell his friends. He guessed I was not far off, and Iunderstood."

  "They will hang him before to-morrow," said Christine.

  "There are many hours yet before to-morrow," Jean answered. "Idropped into the garden, and have waited a long time. I did not wantto climb to the wrong window. I was just going to break into thehouse, and bring my message, though I had to wake you from sleep togive it, when you looked down. In that moment the garden grew light,mademoiselle. You have your cloak on. Were you thinking of going outto-night?"

  "Yes. To the castle to beg life for----"

  "For Lemasle? I will do that."

  "You! Who will listen to you?"

  "Few know the castle as I do, mademoiselle. Friend Roger escaped fromthe South Tower, and the Captain shall not hang to-morrow, or, if hedoes, I will hang with him."

  "That would be of small use to him," Christine said. "It would becompany. Shall I take word to friend Roger that you will obey him?"

  "Obey?"

  "Indeed, he sent the message as though it were a command."

  Christine slowly let the cloak slip from her shoulders. "Yes. I willobey. He sent no other message?"

  The dwarf looked at her.

  "No, mademoiselle. He was full of business to-night, he had no thoughtfor anything else. Is your--your obedience all the message I carryback?"

  "Yes. And tell him of Gaspard Lemasle."

  "I will tell him. The captain shall not hang." And Jean began to getout of the window. "The creepers are strongly grown here; where afriend can enter an enemy may. Shut the window fast, mademoiselle."Christine, stood by the window as the dwarf let himself hang by thecreeper.

  "A still tongue, mademoiselle, will make this place safer than itotherwise might be."

  "I know, Jean."

  "Good-night, mademoiselle."

  "Good-night, Jean."

  The dwarf paused in his descent, and Christine leaned from the window.

  "Jean," she whispered, "you may say to Roger Herrick that I trusthim."

  "Obedience and trust," murmured the dwarf as he dropped into thegarden, and the ghost of a laugh floated up to Christine as she closedthe window.