Under the Red Robe by Stanley John Weyman (positive books to read txt) 📕

either. Doubtless it was grass I trod, and the wood was before me with the sun shining aslant on it; doubtless the house rose behind me with a flame here and there in the windows. But I went in a dream, among shadows; with a racing pulse, in a glow from head to heel; conscious of nothing but the touch of Mademoiselle’s warm lips on my hand, seeing neither meadow nor house, nor even the dark fringe of wood before me, but only Mademoiselle’s passionate face. For the moment I was drunk: drunk with that to which I had been so long a stranger, with that which a man may scorn for years, to find it at last beyond his reach drunk with the touch of a good woman’s lips.

I passed the bridge in this state; and my feet were among the brushwood before the heat and fervour in which I moved found on a sudden their direction. Something began to penetrate to my veiled senses—a hoarse inarticulate cry, now deep, now shrilling horribly, that of itself seemed to fill the wood. It came at intervals of half a minute or so, and made the flesh creep, it rang so full of dumb pain, of impotent wrestling, of unspeakable agony. I am a man and have seen things. I saw the Concini beheaded, and Chalais ten years later—they gave him thirty-four blows; and when I was a boy I escaped from the college and viewed from a great distance Ravaillac torn by horses—that was in the year ten. But the horrible cries I now heard, filled me, perhaps because I was alone and fresh from the sight of Mademoiselle, with loathing inexpressible. The very wood, though the sun had not yet set, seemed to grow dark. I ran on through it, cursing, until the hovels of the village came in sight. Again the shriek rose, a pulsing horror, and this time I could hear the lash fall on the sodden flesh, I could see in fancy the dumb man, trembling, quivering, straining against his bonds. And then, in a moment, I was in the street, and, as the scream once more tore the air, I dashed round the corner by the inn, and came upon them.

I did not look at HIM, but I saw Captain Larolle and the Lieutenant, and a ring of troopers, and one man, bare-armed, teasing out with his fingers the thongs of a whip. The thongs dripped blood, and the sight fired the mine. The rage I had suppressed when the Lieutenant bearded me earlier in the afternoon, the passion with which Mademoiselle’s distress had filled my breast, on the instant found vent. I sprang through the line of soldiers; and striking the man with the whip a buffet between the shoulders, which hurled him breathless to the ground, I turned on the leaders.

‘You fiends!’ I cried. ‘Shame on you! The man is dumb! Dumb; and if I had ten men with me, I would sweep you and your scum out of the village with broomsticks. Lay on another lash,’ I continued recklessly, ‘and I will see whether you or the Cardinal be the stronger.’

The Lieutenant stared at me, his grey moustache bristling, his eyes almost starting from his head. Some of the troopers laid their hands on their swords, but no one moved, and only the Captain spoke.

‘MILLE DIABLES!’ he swore. ‘What is all this about? Are you mad, sir?’

‘Mad or sane!’ I cried furiously. ‘Lay on another lash, and you shall repent it.’

For an instant there was a pause of astonishment. Then, to my surprise, the Captain laughed—laughed loudly.

‘Very heroic,’ he said. ‘Quite magnificent, M. Chevalier-errant. But you see, unfortunately, you come too late.’

‘Too late,’ I said incredulously.

‘Yes, too late,’ he replied, with a mocking smile. And the Lieutenant grinned too. ‘Unfortunately, you see, the man has just confessed. We have only been giving him an extra touch or two, to impress his memory, and save us the trouble of lashing him up again.’

‘I don’t believe it,’ I said bluntly—but I felt the check, and fell to earth. ‘The man cannot speak.’

‘No, but he has managed to tell us what we want; that he will guide us to the place we are seeking,’ the Captain answered drily. ‘The whip, if it cannot find a man a tongue, can find him wits. What is more, I think that he will keep his word,’ he continued, with a hideous scowl. ‘For I warn him that if he does not, all your heroics shall not save him. He is a rebel dog, and known to us of old; and I will flay his back to the bones, ay, until we can see his heart beating through his ribs, but I will have what I want—in your teeth, too, you d——d meddler.’

‘Steady, steady!’ I said, sobered. I saw that he was telling the truth. ‘Is he going to take you to M. de Cocheforet’s hiding-place?’

‘Yes, he is!’ the Captain retorted. ‘Have you any objection to that, Master Spy?’

‘None,’ I replied. ‘Only I shall go with you. And if you live three months, I shall kill you for that name-behind the barracks at Auch, M. le Capitaine.’

He changed colour, but he answered me boldly enough.

‘I don’t know that you will go with us,’ he said, with a snarl. ‘That is as we please.’

‘I have the Cardinal’s orders,’ I said sternly.

‘The Cardinal?’ he exclaimed, stung to fury by this repetition of the name. ‘The Cardinal be—’

But the Lieutenant laid his hand on his lips and stopped him.

‘Hush!’ he said. Then more quietly, ‘Your pardon, M. le Capitaine; but the least said the soonest mended. Shall I give orders to the men to fall in?’

The Captain nodded sullenly.

The Lieutenant turned to his prisoner.

‘Take him down!’ he commanded in his harsh, monotonous voice. ‘Throw his blouse over him, and tie his hands. And do you two, Paul and Lebrun, guard him. Michel, bring the whip, or he may forget how it tastes. Sergeant, choose four good men, and dismiss the rest to their quarters.’

‘Shall we need the horses?’ the sergeant asked.

‘I don’t know,’ the Captain answered peevishly. ‘What does the rogue say?’

The Lieutenant stepped up to him.

‘Listen!’ he said grimly. ‘Nod if you mean yes, and shake your head if you mean no. And have a care you answer truly. Is it more than a mile to this place?’

They had loosened the poor wretch’s fastenings, and covered his back. He stood leaning his shoulder against the wall, his mouth still panting, the sweat running down his hollow cheeks. His sunken eyes were closed, but a quiver now and again ran through his frame. The Lieutenant repeated his question, and, getting no answer, looked round for orders. The Captain met the look, and crying savagely, ‘Answer will you, you mule!’ struck the half-swooning miserable across the back with his switch. The effect was magical. Covered, as his shoulders were, the man sprang erect with a shriek of pain, raising his chin, and hollowing his back; and in that attitude stood an instant with starting eyes, gasping for breath. Then he sank back against the wall, moving his mouth spasmodically. His face