Within an Inch of His Life by Emile Gaboriau (latest novels to read txt) 📕

towers of the old castle, which my husband has repaired.’

“‘Is that quite prudent?’ I asked.

“‘Have I ever left any thing to chance?’ she replied, ‘and would I be apt, at this time, to be imprudent? Rely on me. Come, we must part, Jacques. Thursday, and be punctual!’

“Was I really free? Was the chain really broken? And had I become once more my own master?

“I thought so, and in my almost delirious joy I forgave the countess all the anxieties of the last year. What do I say? I began to accuse myself of injustice and cruelty. I admired her for sacrificing herself to my happiness. I felt, in the fulness of my gratitude, like kneeling down, and kissing the hem of her dress.

“It had become useless now to confide my secret to M. de Chandore. I might have gone back to Boiscoran. But I was more than half-way; I kept on; and, when I reached Sauveterre, my face bore such evident trances of my relief, that Dionysia said to me,—

“‘Something very pleasant must have happened to you, Jacques.’

“Oh, yes, very pleasant! For the first time, I breathed freely as I sat by her side. I could love her now, without fearing that my love might be fatal to her.

“This security did not last long. As I considered the matter, I thought it very singular that the countess should have chosen such a place for our meeting.

“‘Can it be a trap?’ I asked, as the day drew nearer.

“All day long on Thursday I had the most painful presentiments. If I had known how to let the countess know, I should certainly not have gone. But I had no means to send her word; and I knew her well enough to be sure that breaking my word would expose me to her full vengeance. I dined at the usual hour; and, when I had finished, I went up to my room, where I wrote to Dionysia not to expect me that evening, as I should be detained by a matter of the utmost importance.

“I handed the note to Michael, the son of one of my tenants, and told him to carry it to town without losing a minute. Then I tied up all of the countess’s letters in a parcel, put it in my pocket, took my gun, and went out. It might have been eight o’clock; but it was still broad daylight.”

Whether M. Magloire accepted every thing that the prisoner said as truth, or not, he was evidently deeply interested. He had drawn up his chair, and at every statement he uttered half-loud exclamations.

“Under any other circumstances,” said Jacques, “I should have taken one of the two public roads in going to Valpinson. But troubled, as I was, by vague suspicions, I thought only of concealing myself and cut across the marshes. They were partly overflowed; but I counted upon my intimate familiarity with the ground, and my agility. I thought, moreover, that here I should certainly not be seen, and should meet no one. In this I was mistaken. When I reached the Seille Canal, and was just about to cross it, I found myself face to face with young Ribot, the son of a farmer at Brechy. He looked so very much surprised at seeing me in such a place, that I thought to give him some explanation; and, rendered stupid by my troubles, I told him I had business at Brechy, and was crossing the marshes to shoot some birds.

“‘If that is so,’ he replied, laughing, ‘we are not after the same kind of game.’

“He went his way; but this accident annoyed me seriously. I continued on my way, swearing, I fear, at young Ribot, and found that the path became more and more dangerous. It was long past nine when I reached Valpinson at last. But the night was clear, and I became more cautious than ever.

“The place which the countess had chosen for our meeting was about two hundred yards from the house and the farm buildings, sheltered by other buildings, and quite close to the wood. I approached it through this wood.

“Hid among the trees, I was examining the ground, when I noticed the countess standing near one of the old towers: she wore a simple costume of light muslin, which could be seen at a distance. Finding every thing quiet, I went up to her; and, as soon as she saw me, she said,—

“‘I have been waiting for you nearly an hour.’

“I explained to her the difficulties I had met with on my way there; and then I asked her,—

“‘But where is your husband?’

“‘He is laid up with rheumatism,’ she replied.

“‘Will he not wonder at your absence?’

“‘No: he knows I am sitting up with my youngest daughter. I left the house through the little door of the laundry.’

“And, without giving me time to reply, she asked,—

“‘Where are my letters?’

“‘Here they are,’ I said, handing them to her.

“She took them with feverish haste, saying in an undertone,—

“‘There ought to be twenty-four.’

“And, without thinking of the insult, she went to work counting them.

“‘They are all here,’ she said when she had finished.

“Then, drawing a little package from her bosom, she added,—

“‘And here are yours.’

“But she did not give them to me.

“‘We’ll burn them,’ she said.

“I started with surprise.

“‘You cannot think of it,’ I cried, ‘here, and at this hour. The fire would certainly be seen.’

“‘What? Are you afraid? However, we can go into the wood. Come, give me some matches.’

“I felt in my pockets; but I had none.

“‘I have no matches,’ I said.

“‘Oh, come!—you who smoke all day long,—you who, even in my presence, could never give up your cigars.’

“‘I left my match-box, yesterday, at M. de Chandore’s.’

“She stamped her foot vehemently.

“‘Since that is so, I’ll go in and get some.’

“This would have delayed us, and thus would have been an additional imprudence. I saw that I must do what she wanted, and so I said,—

“‘That is not necessary. Wait!’

“All sportsmen know that there is a way to replace matches. I employed the usual means. I took a cartridge out of my gun, emptied it and its shot, and put in, instead a piece of paper. Then, resting my gun on the ground, so as to prevent a loud explosion, I made the powder flash up.

“We had fire, and put the letters to the flame.