A Gentleman of France: Being the Memoirs of Gaston de Bonne Sieur de Marsac by - (best love novels of all time .txt) 📕

While Maignan was away about this business I despatched two men to catch our horses, which were running loose in the valley, and to remove those of Bruhl’s party to a safe distance from the castle. I also blocked up the lower part of the door leading into the courtyard, and named four men to remain under arms beside it, that we might not be taken by surprise; an event of which I had the less fear, however, since the enemy were now reduced to eight swords, and could only escape, as we could only enter, through this doorway. I was still busied with these arrangements when M. d’Agen joined me, and I broke off to compliment him on his courage, acknowledging in particular the service he had done me personally. The heat of the conflict had melted the young man’s reserve, and flushed his face with pride; but as he listened to me he gradually froze again, and when I ended he regarded me with the same cold hostility.

‘I am obliged to you,’ he said, bowing. ‘But may I ask what next, M. de Marsac?’

‘We have no choice,’ I answered. ‘We can only starve them out.’

‘But the ladies?’ he said, starting slightly. ‘What of them?’

‘They will suffer less than the men,’ I replied. ‘Trust me, the latter will not bear starving long.’

He seemed surprised, but I explained that with our small numbers we could not hope to storm the tower, and might think ourselves fortunate that we now had the enemy cooped up where he could not escape, and must eventually surrender.

‘Ay, but in the meantime how will you ensure the women against violence?’ he asked, with an air which showed he was far from satisfied.

‘I will see to that when Maignan comes back,’ I answered pretty confidently.

The equerry appeared in a moment with the assurance that egress from the farther side of the tower was impossible. I bade him nevertheless keep a horseman moving round the hill, that we might have intelligence of any attempt. The order was scarcely given when a man—one of those I had left on guard at the door of the courtyard—came to tell me that Fresnoy desired to speak with me on behalf of M. de Bruhl.

‘Where is he?’ I asked.

‘At the inner door with a flag of truce,’ was the answer.

‘Tell him, then,’ I said, without offering to move, ‘that I will communicate with no one except his leader, M. de Bruhl. And add this, my friend,’ I continued. ‘Say it aloud that if the ladies whom he has in charge are injured by so much as a hair, I will hang every man within these walls, from M. de Bruhl to the youngest lackey.’ And I added a solemn oath to that effect.

The man nodded, and went on his errand, while I and M. d’Agen, with Maignan, remained standing outside the gate, looking idly over the valley and the brown woods through which we had ridden in the early morning. My eyes rested chiefly on the latter, Maignan’s as it proved on the former. Doubtless we all had our own thoughts. Certainly I had, and for a while, in my satisfaction at the result of the attack and the manner in which we had Bruhl confined, I did not remark the gravity which was gradually overspreading the equerry’s countenance. When I did I took the alarm, and asked him sharply what was the matter. ‘I don’t like that, your Excellency,’ he answered, pointing into the valley.

I looked anxiously, and looked, and saw nothing.

‘What?’ I said in astonishment.

‘The blue mist,’ he muttered, with a shiver. ‘I have been watching it this half-hour, your Excellency. It is rising fast.’

I cried out on him for a maudlin fool, and M. d’Agen swore impatiently; but for all that, and despite the contempt I strove to exhibit, I felt a sudden chill at my heart as I recognised in the valley below the same blue haze which had attended us through yesterday’s ride, and left us only at nightfall. Involuntarily we both fell to watching it as it rose slowly and more slowly, first enveloping the lower woods, and then spreading itself abroad in the sunshine. It is hard to witness a bold man’s terror and remain unaffected by it; and I confess I trembled. Here, in the moment of our seeming success, was something which I had not taken into account, something against which I could not guard either myself or others!

‘See!’ Maignan whispered hoarsely, pointing again with his linger. ‘It is the Angel of Death, your Excellency! Where he kills by ones and twos, he is invisible. But when he slays by hundreds and by thousands, men see the shadow of his wings!’

‘Chut, fool!’ I retorted with, anger, which was secretly proportioned to the impression his weird saying made on me. ‘You have been in battles! Did you ever see him there? or at a sack? A truce to this folly,’ I continued. ‘And do you go and inquire what food we have with us. It may be necessary to send for some.’

I watched him go doggedly off, and knowing the stout nature of the man and his devotion to his master, I had no fear that he would fail us; but there were others, almost as necessary to us, in whom I could not place the same confidence. And these had also taken the alarm. When I turned I found