Barlasch of the Guard Part 30

D'Arragon glanced at her with a sudden look of relief, and then turned to Barlasch. He took the numbed hand and felt it; then he held a candle close to it. Two of the fingers were quite white, and Barlasch made a grimace when he saw them. D'Arragon began rubbing at once, taking no notice of his companion's moans and complaints.

Without desisting, he looked over his shoulder towards Desiree, but not actually at her face.

"I heard last night," he said, "that the two carriages are standing in an inn-yard three leagues beyond this on the Warsaw road. I have traced them step by step from Kowno. My informant tells me that the escort has deserted, and that the officer in charge, Colonel Darragon, was going on alone, with the two drivers, when he was taken ill. He is nearly well again, and hopes to continue his journey to-morrow or the next day."

Desiree nodded her head to signify that she had heard and understood.

Barlasch gave a cry of pain, and withdrew his hand with a jerk.

"Enough, enough!" he said. "You hurt me. The life is returning now; a drop of brandy perhaps--"

"There is no brandy in Thorn," said D'Arragon, turning towards the table. "There is only coffee."

He busied himself with the cups, and did not look at Desiree when he spoke again.

"I have secured two horses," he said, "to enable you to proceed at once, if you are able to. But if you would rather rest here to-day--"

"Let us go on at once," interrupted Desiree hastily.

Barlasch, crouching against the stove, glanced from one to the other beneath his heavy brows, wondering, perhaps, why they avoided looking at each other.

"You will wait here," said D'Arragon, turning towards him, "until--until I return."

"Yes," was the answer. "I will lie on the floor here and sleep. I have had enough. I--"

Louis left the room to give the necessary orders. When he returned in a few minutes, Barlasch was asleep on the floor, and Desiree had tied on her hood again, which concealed her face. He drank a cup of coffee and ate some dry bread absent-mindedly, in silence.

The sound of bells, feebly heard through the double windows, told them that the horses were being harnessed.

"Are you ready?" asked D'Arragon, who had not sat down; and in response, Desiree, standing near the stove, went towards the door, which he held open for her to pa.s.s out. As she pa.s.sed him, she glanced at his face, and winced.

In the sleigh she looked up at him as if expecting him to speak. He was looking straight in front of him. There was, after all, nothing to be said. She could see his steady eyes between his high collar and the fur cap. They were hard and unflinching. The road was level now, and the snow beaten to a gleaming track like ice. D'Arragon put the horses to a gallop at the town gate, and kept them at it.

In half an hour he turned towards her and pointed with his whip to a roof half hidden by some thin pines.

"That is the inn," he said.

In the inn yard he indicated with his whip two travelling-carriages standing side by side.

"Colonel Darragon is here?" he said to the cringing Jew who came to meet them; and the innkeeper led the way upstairs. The house was a miserable one, evil-smelling, sordid. The Jew pointed to a door, and, cringing again, left them.

Desiree made a gesture telling Louis to go in first, which he did at once. The room was littered with trunks and cases. All the treasure had been brought into the sick man's chamber for greater safety.

On a narrow bed near the window a man lay huddled on his side. He turned and looked over his shoulder, showing a haggard face with a ten-days'

beard on it. He looked from one to the other in silence.

It was Colonel de Casimir.

CHAPTER XXII. THROUGH THE SHOALS.

I see my way, as birds their trackless way.

De Casimir had never seen Louis d'Arragon, and yet some dim resemblance to his cousin must have introduced the new-comer to a conscience not quite easy.

"You seek me, Monsieur," he asked, not having recognized Desiree, who stood behind her companion, in her furs.

"I seek Colonel Darragon, and was told that we should find him in this room."

"May I ask why you seek him in this rather unceremonious manner?" asked De Casimir, with the ready insolence of his calling and his age.

"Because I am his cousin," replied Louis quietly, "and Madame is his wife."

Desiree came forward, her face colourless. She caught her breath, but made no attempt to speak.

De Casimir tried to lift himself on his elbows.

"Ah! madame," he said. "You see me in a sorry state. I have been very ill." And he made a gesture with one hand, begging her to overlook his unkempt appearance and the disorder of his room.

"Where is Charles?" asked Desiree curtly. She had suddenly realized how intensely she had always disliked De Casimir, and distrusted him.

"Has he not returned to Dantzig?" was the ready answer. "He should have been there a week ago. We parted at Vilna. He was exhausted--a mere question of over-fatigue--and at his request I left him there to recover and to pursue his way to Dantzig, where he knew you would be awaiting him."

He paused and looked from one to the other with quick and furtive eyes.

He felt himself easily a match for them in quickness of perception, in rapid thought, in glib speech. Both were dumb--he could not guess why.

But there was a steadiness in D'Arragon's eyes which rarely goes with dulness of wit. This was a man who could be quick at will--a man to be reckoned with.

"You are wondering why I travel under your cousin's name, Monsieur,"

said De Casimir, with a friendly smile.

"Yes," returned Louis, without returning the smile.

"It is simple enough," explained the sick man. "At Vilna we found all discipline relaxed. There were no longer any regiments. There was no longer staff. There was no longer an army. Every man did as he thought best. Many, as you know, elected to await the Russians at Vilna, rather than attempt to journey farther. Your cousin had been given the command of the escort which has now filtered away, like every other corps. He was to conduct back to Paris two carriages laden with imperial treasure and certain papers of value. Charles did not want to go back to Paris.

He wished most naturally to return to Dantzig. I, on the other hand, desired to go to France; and there place my sword once more at the Emperor's service. What more simple than to change places?"

"And names," suggested D'Arragon, without falling into De Casimir's easy and friendly manner.

"For greater security in pa.s.sing through Poland and across the frontier," explained De Casimir readily. "Once in France--and I hope to be there in a week--I shall report the matter to the Emperor as it really happened: namely, that, owing to Colonel Darragon's illness, he transferred his task to me at Vilna. The Emperor will be indifferent, so long as the order has been carried out."

De Casimir turned to Desiree as likely to be more responsive than this dark-eyed stranger, who listened with so disconcerting a lack of comment or sympathy.

"So you see, madame," he said, "Charles will still get the credit for having carried out his most difficult task, and no harm is done."

"When did you leave Charles at Vilna?" asked she.

De Casimir lay back on the pillow in an att.i.tude which betrayed his weakness and exhaustion. He looked at the ceiling with l.u.s.treless eyes.