The Chevalier d'Auriac Part 27

What she said is for my ears alone; and then she lay still and pa.s.sive in my arms, her head resting on my shoulder.

So for a time we stood in silence, and then I kissed her.

'Come, dear,' I said, 'and with the morning we shall be safe.'

Of her own accord she put her arms about my neck and pressed her lips to mine, and then I lifted my darling to Couronne's saddle bow.

Had I but taken de Belin's offer! If Jacques were but with me then!

My foot was in the stirrup, my hand on the reins, when there was a sudden flash, a loud report, and my poor horse fell forward, floundering in the agony of death.

I just managed to s.n.a.t.c.h Claude from the saddle, and staggered back, and then with a rush a half-dozen men were on us. They were masked to a man, and made their attack in a perfect silence; but as my sword flashed out of my scabbard I recognised the tall figure of the Capuchin, and thrust at him fiercely, with a curse at my folly in coming alone.

Things like these take a short time in doing, and should take a shorter time in telling. I ran one man through the heart, and with a gasp he fell forwards and twisted himself like a snake round my blade.

Then someone flung a cloak over my head--I was overborne by numbers and thrown. Two or three men held me down; there was an iron grip at my throat, and a man's knee pressed heavily on my chest. I made a frantic effort to free myself: the covering slipped from my face, and I saw it was the Capuchin kneeling over me, a dagger in his hand. His mask had fallen from him, and his face was the face of Ravaillac!

I could not call out, I was held too tight; and the villain lifted his poniard to strike, when a voice--the voice of de Gomeron--said:

'Hold! We will put him out another way.'

'This is the quickest and surest,' answered Ravaillac; but the reply was brief and stern.

'Carry out my orders. Gag him and bring him with us.'

'To Babette's?'

'To Babette's. There is the oubliette. Quick, there is no time to lose.'

'Oh, ho!' laughed Ravaillac, 'that is good! M. le Chevalier will be able to drown his sorrows under the Seine; but he will take a long time to die!'

'You villain!' I gasped, but like lightning the gag was on me, and then I was blindfolded. I could see nothing of Madame, though I tried my utmost to get a glimpse of her. Then I was bound hand and foot, and lifted by a couple of men. After being carried a short s.p.a.ce I was thrust into a litter, and as this was done I heard a faint cry from Claude; and I groaned in my heart, for I was powerless to help.

The litter went forward at a jolting pace, and from the echo of hoofs around it I gathered that there were at least a dozen mounted men about me. Sometimes I heard a brief order given by de Gomeron, and the sound of his voice made me certain that Madame was with us. If so, there might still be hope, and I lay still and tried to follow our route by the movement of the party, but I could see nothing; and after a time my brain began to get confused, for we turned this way and that, up side streets, down winding roads, until the thing became impossible.

Once we were challenged by the watch, and my captor gave answer boldly:

'M. de Gomeron, of the Marshal's Guards, with prisoners for the Chatelet; let us pa.s.s in the King's name.'

I heard the words and strove to call out, but the gag was too secure.

At any rate, I had learned one thing--we were going in the direction of the Chatelet. Who, then, was Babette? I had heard the name once before, on the night that I lay wounded before La Fere, and an inspiration seemed to come on me, and I was certain that the night hag and de Gomeron's Babette were one and the same.

Then we jolted on for about another half-hour--we must have pa.s.sed the Chatelet by this--when suddenly the litter took a sharp turn to the right, and after going a little way was put to the ground.

'_Sacre nom d'un chien!_' exclaimed one of my carriers, 'he is heavy as lead.'

'He will be light enough in a week or so,' answered someone else; and then I heard the creaking of hinges, and the litter appeared to be borne within a yard and was left there. After a half-hour or so I was dragged out, and I heard a woman's voice:

'This way, my lambs; the gentleman's room is below--very far below, out of all draughts;' and she laughed, with the same pitiless note in her voice that I had heard once before--and I knew it was the murderess.

Down a winding stair we went, and I remained pa.s.sive, but mentally counted the steps and the turns. There were eighteen steps and three turns, at each of which there was apparently a door, and then we stopped. There was a jingling of keys, the harsh, grating noise of a bolt being drawn back, and Babette spoke again:

'Monsieur's apartment is ready--'tis the safest room in the Toison d'Or.' Then I was flung in heavily as I was, and the door bolted behind me.

CHAPTER XV

THE HAND OF BABETTE

I lay for a time where I had been flung, overwhelmed by the disaster.

Then a frenzy came on me, and, but for the gag in my mouth, I could have screamed out curses on my folly in allowing myself to be trapped like a wild cat. Now that I think of it, in the madness of those moments I did not pray to the G.o.d who had so often and so repeatedly helped me; yet in His mercy and goodness I was freed from my straits, as will be shown hereafter.

In the meantime I was so securely bound that it was all but impossible to move, and the bandage over my eyes prevented me from seeing anything. I writhed and twisted like a serpent on the wet flags where I lay, and in the violence of my struggles gradually moved the bandages, so that my eyes were at last set free, and then, exhausted by my efforts and half-choked by the gag, I became still once more, and looked around me. For all I could see I might have been as before--I was in blank, absolute darkness. Into the void I peered, but could make out nothing, though I could hear my own laboured breathing, and the melancholy drip, drip of water as it oozed from above me and fell in sullen drops on the slime below.

As I strained into the velvet black of the darkness, it came to me--some fiend must have whispered it--that I was blind. My mind almost ceased to work at the thought, and I remained in a kind of torpor, trying in a weak manner to mentally count the drops of water by the dull splas.h.i.+ng sound they made in falling. Ages seemed to pa.s.s as I lay there, and the first sense of coming to myself was the thought of Claude, whom I had lost, and the quick agony of this made my other sufferings seem as nothing. There is a misery that words, at least such words as I am master of, cannot picture, and I will therefore say no more of this.

A little thing, however, now happened, and but for this I might have lain where I was until I died, so entirely impressed was I with the idea that I was sightless. In utter weariness I turned my head on one side and saw two small beads of fire twinkling about a yard or so from me. They were as small as the far-away stars, and they stared at me fixedly. 'This is some deception of the mind,' I thought to myself, when suddenly another pair of fiery eyes appeared; then there was a slight shuffling, and all was still. But it was the saving of me.

Sight and hearing could not both deceive. I knew what they were, and I knew, too, that I was not blind. From that moment I began to regain possession of my faculties and to think of means of escape. In my vest pocket was a small clasp knife. If I could but get at that I could free myself from my bonds. That, at any rate, had to be the first step. I began to slowly move my arms up and down with a view to loosening the cords that bound me, but, after some time spent in this exercise, realised the fact that the ropes might cut through me, but that they would not loosen. Then it struck me, in my eagerness to be free, that I might get at the knots with my teeth, and by a mighty effort I raised myself to a sitting posture--only to remember that I was gagged, and that it was of no avail to think of this plan. There are those who will smile, perhaps, if their eyes meet this, and put me down in their estimation for a fool for my forgetfulness. That may or may not be, but I have written down exactly what happened.

Although the new position I had attained did not in any way advance me towards freedom, yet it gave me a sense of personal relief. I was able to raise my knees a little, and sitting down thus, with my body thrown a little forward, to ease the strain of the cords, I began to think and go over in my mind the whole scene of the tragedy from the beginning to its bitter end. I had no doubt as to the personality of Babette. I was not likely to forget her voice. I had heard it under circ.u.mstances that ought to have stamped it on my memory for all time, and if I had the faintest doubts on the matter, they were set at rest by the fact that she was so well known to de Gomeron--she probably had been a camp-follower on our side--and also by the still more d.a.m.ning fact that her house was known as the Toison d'Or. The name had been distinctly mentioned by her, and its meaning was clear to me when I thought of the dreadful scene over de Leyva's body.

As for de Gomeron, I knew him well enough to understand his game. The whole affair, as far as he was concerned, was a sudden and rapid resolve--that was clear. I argued it out in this way to myself, and, as I went on thinking, it was almost as if someone was reading out a statement of the case to me. It was evident that the free-lance was to the last moment in hopes that the King would yield to Biron's intercession on his behalf. When that was refused he may have had some idea of gaining his end by force, but was compelled to hurry his _coup_ by the knowledge that he had obtained from his confederate or spy, Ravaillac.

It had worked out well enough for him. My disappearance, my dead horse--poor Couronne!--all these would point to me as the author of the abduction, and give de Gomeron the time he wanted to perfect his plans. The man I had run through would never tell tales, and, so far, the game lay in the Camarguer's hands.

And then about Madame. As I became calmer I saw that for his own sake de Gomeron would take care that her life was safe--at any rate for the present, and whilst there was this contingency there was hope for her, if none for me, as I felt sure that, what with the King and Madame's relatives of the Tremouille on one hand, and Sully and de Belin on the other, things would go hard, sooner or later, with de Gomeron, whatever happened to me.

By the time my thoughts had reached this point I was myself again, and the certainty with which I was possessed that Claude was in no immediate danger of her life gave me strength to cast about for my own liberation as the first step towards freeing her.

But my despair almost returned as I thought and thought, until my brain seemed on fire, without my efforts bringing me a ray of hope. I shuddered as I reflected that it was part of de Gomeron's scheme to let me die here. It could easily be done, and a few bricks against the wall would remove all traces of the living grave of d'Auriac. In my mental excitement I seemed to be able to project my soul outside my prison, and to see and hear all that my enemy was plotting.

I do not for a moment say I was right in every detail, but events showed that I was not far wrong; and it is a wonder to me that the learned men of our day have not dealt with this question of the mind, though, to be sure, it savours no little of those secrets which the Almighty in His wisdom has concealed from us, an inquiry into which is perhaps a sin--perhaps in some future time these things may be disclosed to us! Whether I am right or wrong, I know not. I have, however, set down faithfully what pa.s.sed through my mind in those hours of agony.

Was I never to see the light again? Never to hear another human voice?

Was I to come to my death in a long-drawn-out agony? Dear G.o.d, then, in mercy, strike me dead! So I prayed in my utter desolation; but death did not come, though its mantle of darkness was around me.

Hour after hour pa.s.sed. I s.h.i.+fted my position, and, strange to say, slept. How long I slept I know not; but I woke stinging with pain, and found this was due to my being bound as I was, and in a little the agony became almost insupportable; and I was on the verge of going into a delirium, only righting my failing senses by a mighty effort of will.

I had lost all count of the time, but guessed it was advanced in the day by this; and my eyes had become so accustomed to the darkness that I could manage to see the faint outlines of the cell in which I was imprisoned. I tried to make out its extent with an idle and useless curiosity, and then, giving it up and utterly hopeless, leaned my head on my upraised knees, and sat thus waiting for the end.

I longed for death to come now--it would be a happy release from my pain.

Suddenly there came a grating noise as the bolts outside were moved.

Then the door of the cell swung open with a groaning, and there was a blinding flash of light that, for the time being, deprived me of the powers of sight, though, with a natural instinct, I shut my eyes to the flash as it came.

Then I heard de Gomeron's voice saying, 'Remove the gag--I have something to ask Monsieur.'