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

‘What that man said of me,’ I muttered.

‘That!’ she exclaimed. And then she stood a moment gazing at me in a strange fashion. ‘Do I believe that, Monsieur? But come, come!’ she continued impetuously. ‘Come, and I will show you if I believe it. But not here.’

She turned as she spoke, and led the way on the instant into the house through the parlour door, which stood half open. The room inside was pitch dark, but she took me fearlessly by the hand and led me quickly through it, and along the passage, until we came to the cheerful lighted hall, where a great fire burned on the hearth. All traces of the soldiers’ occupation had been swept away. But the room was empty.

She led me to the fire, and there in the full light, no longer a shadowy creature, but red-lipped, brilliant, throbbing with life and beauty, she stood opposite me—her eyes shining, her colour high, her breast heaving.

‘Do I believe it?’ she said in a thrilling voice. ‘I will tell you. M. de Cocheforet’s hiding-place is in the hut behind the fern-stack, two furlongs beyond the village on the road to Auch. You know now what no one else knows, he and I and Madame excepted. You hold in your hands his life and my honour; and you know also, M. de Berault, whether I believe that tale.’

‘My God!’ I cried. And I stood looking at her until something of the horror in my eyes crept into hers, and she shuddered and stepped back from me.

‘What is it? What is it?’ she whispered, clasping her hands. And with all the colour gone suddenly from her cheeks she peered trembling into the corners and towards the door. ‘There is no one here.’

I forced myself to speak, though I was trembling all over like a man in an ague. ‘No, Mademoiselle, there is no one here,’ I muttered. ‘There is no one here.’ And then I let my head fall on my breast, and I stood before her, the statue of despair. Had she felt a grain of suspicion, a grain of doubt, my bearing must have opened her eyes; but her mind was cast in so noble a mould that, having once thought ill of me and been converted, she could feel no doubt again. She must trust all in all. A little recovered from her fright, she stood looking at me in great wonder; and at last she had a thought—

‘You are not well?’ she said suddenly. ‘It is your old wound, Monsieur. Now I have it?’

‘Yes, Mademoiselle,’ I muttered faintly, ‘it is.’

‘I will call Clon!’ she cried impetuously. And then, with a sob: ‘Ah! poor Clon! He is gone. But there is still Louis. I will call him and he will get you something.’

She was gone from the room before I could stop her, and I stood leaning against the table possessor at last of the secret which I had come so far to win; able in a moment to open the door and go out into the night, and make use of it—and yet the most unhappy of men. The sweat stood on my brow; my eyes wandered round the room; I turned towards the door, with some mad thought of flight—of flight from her, from the house, from everything; and I had actually taken a step towards this, when on the door, the outer door, there came a sudden hurried knocking which jarred every nerve in my body. I started, and stopped. I stood a moment in the middle of the floor gazing at the door, as at a ghost. Then, glad of action, glad of anything that might relieve the tension of my feelings, I strode to it and pulled it sharply open.

On the threshold, his flushed face lit up by the light behind me, stood one of the knaves whom I had brought with me to Auch. He had been running, and panted heavily; but he had kept his wits, and the instant I, appeared he grasped my sleeve.

‘Ah! Monsieur, the very man!’ he cried. ‘Quick! come this instant, lose not a moment, and you may yet be first. They have the secret! The soldiers have found Monsieur!’

‘Found him?’ I echoed. ‘M. de Cocheforet?’

‘No; but they know the place where he lies. It was found by accident. The Lieutenant was gathering his men when I came away. If we are quick, we may yet be first.’

‘But the place?’ I said.

‘I could not hear,’ he answered bluntly. ‘We must hang on their skirts, and at the last moment strike in. It is the only way, Monsieur.’

The pair of pistols I had taken from the shock-headed man lay on a chest by the door. Without waiting for more I snatched them up and my hat, and joined him, and in a moment we were running down the garden. I looked back once before we passed the gate, and I saw the light streaming out through the door which. I had left open; and I fancied that for an instant a figure darkened the gap. But the fancy only strengthened the one single purpose, the iron resolve, which had taken possession of me and all my thoughts. I must be first; I must anticipate the Lieutenant; I must make the arrest myself. I must be first. And I ran on only the faster.

We were across the meadow and in the wood in a moment. There, instead of keeping along the common path, I boldly singled out—my senses seemed to be preternaturally keen—the smaller trail by which Clon had brought us. Along this I ran unfalteringly, avoiding logs and pitfalls as by instinct, and following all its turns and twists, until we came to the back of the inn, and could hear the murmur of subdued voices in the village street, the sharp low word of command, and the clink of weapons; and could see over and between the houses the dull glare of lanthorns and torches.

I grasped my man’s arm, and crouched down listening. When I had heard enough, ‘Where is your mate?’ I said in his ear.

‘With them,’ he muttered.

‘Then come,’ I whispered rising. ‘I have seen what I want. Let us go.’

But he caught me by the arm and detained me.

‘You don’t know the way,’ he said. ‘Steady, steady, Monsieur. You go too fast. They are just moving. Let us join them, and strike in when the time comes. We must let them guide us.’

‘Fool!’ I said, shaking off his hand. ‘I tell you, I know where he is! I know where they are going. Come, and we will pluck the fruit while they are on the road to it.’

His only answer was an exclamation of surprise. At that moment the lights began to move. The Lieutenant was starting. The moon was not yet up, the sky was grey and cloudy; to advance where we were was to step into a wall of blackness. But we had lost too much already, and I did not hesitate. Bidding my companion follow me and use his legs, I sprang through a low fence which rose before us; then stumbling blindly over some broken ground in the rear of the houses, I came with a fall or two to a little watercourse with steep sides. Through this I