Orrain Part 46

"He must turn back from the marsh, and we get him at Villaneuve,"

shouted De Lorgnac to me as we hammered along, pointing as he spoke to the wooded height that rose to our front above the willow-fringed Yeres. But he little knew Simon of Orrain. I made no reply; and leaning forward in the saddle stroked the foam-wet neck that reached out before me, and felt Lizette answer to my touch, as though she knew that life and death lay in her speed.

As we raced on I watched the plain to our left, where Simon had vanished, with hot eyes that reached everywhere--eyes that missed nothing. But he was not to be seen, and hope began to spring up within me that we had beaten him. I shook up the reins, and urged Lizette on faster; but the brave heart was doing her best.

It was impossible that this could last, and as we galloped into Montgeron I felt Lizette falter under me, and an oath broke from De Lorgnac, for Cartouche had lost a shoe.

"We must get fresh horses here at any cost," I said as we pulled up at the door of a small auberge, the only inn the village possessed; but the wealth of Croesus would have been useless here, for other horses were not procurable. And so, whilst Cartouche was being shod, we off-saddled, giving the horses a drink of milk, and getting them rubbed down hastily. Whilst this was going on we stood, moody and dejected, surrounded by a group of yokels, the keeper of the auberge fussing near us. After a time, more to ease my impatience than aught else, I inquired if anyone had seen a man, mounted on a white horse, pa.s.s this way, and offered five crowns for the information. The landlord shook his head ruefully, for five crowns were five crowns; but a rough-looking fellow, apparently a fowler, stepped out of the group around us and claimed the reward.

"Ay," he said; "I have seen and spoken with him. He was dressed in hunting green, and crossed the marsh a half-hour ago."

"But there is no way!"

"So he thought too; and it cost him five crowns to find it, for I showed it to him. He is beyond Villaneuve now; but his horse is worn, and, monsieur," he went on with a grin, "I will take those five crowns from you. St. Siege! But this is the red day of my life!"

I paid him in silence, and Cartouche being reshod by this we pressed forward once more; but hope had almost gone from me, and De Lorgnac's set face was more expressive than any words. It was well on in the afternoon when we saw the houses of Charenton, and but a league and a half before us lay Paris, silhouetted in purple and grey against the sky. We were trotting round the elbow of the wood that fringed the banks of the Maren when we came suddenly on our man. He was seated on the wall of the bridge, holding the reins of his horse in his hands; and he saw us too, for we were scarce a hundred paces off. He was away like a flash, looking but once behind him as he drove his spurs home, and raced for Paris.

De Lorgnac gave a great cry, and neck and neck we followed him. If ever man knew his peril, Simon did. Against one he would have fought like a wolf; but against two the odds were hopeless, and with the rage of a wolf in his heart he fled, taking to the country away from the road in the hope of shaking us off.

As for me, I felt the hot blood throbbing in my temples, and all seemed dark around me, except there where that bowed figure on the white horse raced in front, carrying death in his hands, death for her who was to me more than life. Lizette seemed to know it too, and stretched beneath me like a greyhound; but I heard the sobbing breath that told me of a beaten horse. Foot by foot De Lorgnac drew from me, the great grey going like a stag; but still Simon held the front, and we gained not a yard on him. Already we could see the Porte St. Michel lying open before us; and now Simon looked back once more, and pointed at the gate, laughing in triumph as he did so. It was then that my gallant Lizette made a supreme effort. It seemed as if in two strides she had caught up the grey and pa.s.sed him; only to falter as she did so; then there was a long stagger, and down she came.

By G.o.d's providence I was able to regain my feet almost as I fell. De Lorgnac had pulled up beside me; but pointing to Simon, who had now pa.s.sed the gate, I called out: "Follow him; do not lose sight of him!"

With a nod he galloped on, and casting one look to the side of the road where all that remained of my brave Lizette lay, I hurried after the two.

The gates were not two hundred paces from me; and, sword in hand, as I ran towards them someone came trotting up to me. I thought he was riding at me, and had all but slashed his mount across the face, when he pulled up, and I saw it was Le Brusquet on his mule.

"Hold!" he cried; "it is I. He cannot escape. De Lorgnac is on his heels, and I have set the mob after him with a hue and cry." With this he jumped from his mule and hastened on by my side, the mule trotting after us.

I made no answer, said nothing, until we reached the gates, where an excited crowd had collected, and then I asked: "Which way?"

"Do you not hear them shouting?" And Le Brusquet pointed to a crowd running up the Rue de la Harpe. "Come!" And side by side we ran on.

Panting as he ran by me, Le Brusquet gasped out: "Mademoiselle is confined in De Mouchy's house. It is there the Vidame must go for safety with this mob at his heels. Hark! Hear them!"

And shrill and high we heard the cries, "a.s.sa.s.sin! a.s.sa.s.sin! _Tue_!

_Tue_!"

Le Brusquet chuckled. "It was a happy thought to set the mob on him, and a happier thought still to pa.s.s my day at the gate." Still I made no answer, but ran on with my teeth set. The mob swung round by the Mathurins, and, forcing my way round the corner of the road, I saw they were led by a madman, shouting, yelling, and muttering fearful imprecations.

Using all my strength I headed the mob at last, only to find the madman by my side. He glared at me for an instant, and then screamed out:

"You too! You too, friend! Then we shall both see him die." And bursting into a horrid laugh he clawed at me with his hands. I thrust him back, and it was only in doing so that the light of a sudden recognition came to me. The miserable, frenzied being was none other than De Ganache. G.o.d help him!

With another look of pity and horror I ran on; but fast as I went he kept by me, and side by side we two led the crowd that howled after us in pitiless rage.

We could see nothing of either Simon or De Lorgnac; but we did not want for guides. A hundred fingers pointed out their course at every street corner, and at last a white horse, riderless, and the reins trailing loosely, came galloping out of a by-street; and a roar went up:

"He is down! he is down! In the Pa.s.sage of Pity!"

With a yell the madman flashed past me, and hot foot on his heels we crowded into the narrow street; but, save for a big grey horse standing, with hanging head and heaving flanks, near the dark archway at the head of the pa.s.sage, it was empty. A howl of disappointment rose behind me, and the mob halted and swayed irresolutely; but I felt that the end was come, and ran on. Followed by Le Brusquet I pa.s.sed the archway, and there in the dark, vaulted pa.s.sage, with his back to the door of De Mouchy's house, stood Simon of Orrain, at bay at last!

De Lorgnac had been too quick for him, and had forced him to fight at the very entrance of his lair. Covered with the dust of his reckless ride, his gay hunting dress torn and soiled, bareheaded, and with the blood streaming from a wound in his face, where De Lorgnac had touched him, Simon stood, despair and hate in his look. Yet he fought fiercely for his life; but he had met his equal with the sword, and, doing his worst, could but hold on the defence and no more. He saw us as we came. He saw too the hundred faces of the mob--the mob he had once himself led to a deed of shame--glaring, shouting, and yelling at him through the open archway, though not one dared to pa.s.s the entrance.

Escape was hopeless, and his pale face grew paler still, as with an oath he wiped the blood from his lips with the back of his hand, and screamed out to De Lorgnac:

"Stand aside, man! I have no quarrel with you! Stand back, or----"

But the thrust he made was parried with a wrist as sure as his own, and it was only his own rare skill of fence that saved him from the riposte.

After all, he was blood of my blood, and it was not my hand that should slay him. The thought came to me sudden and insistent, as I put my blade beside that of De Lorgnac, and covering him with my point, saw the grey despair in his eyes.

"Simon," I called out, "put down your sword. I promise your life!"

He spat at me in his fury, the fury of a beast, and I was a lost man if De Lorgnac had not stayed his hand.

"G.o.d!" he burst out, "if there were only you!"

At my look--a glance that almost cost me my life--De Lorgnac stepped back, lowering his point, and our swords crossed. Again parrying a thrust, I once more offered Simon his life, only to meet with the same refusal. There was no help for it! A life stood on the issue, to which his was nothing to me, and setting my teeth I made at him. The fury of my attack almost lost me the game, and I heard Le Brusquet's low warning:

"Have a care. Remember!"

Suddenly Simon, who had gained a slight advantage, called out: "I accept. I have lost." And he half raised his blade. I gave back, lowering my point as I did so, and at that moment the door opened, and with a laugh Simon sprang back, and vanished from our sight.

So quick, so instant was his retreat, that for a second I hardly realised it. But someone else had. All unnoticed by us De Ganache had been crouching in the shadow of the vaulted pa.s.sage watching the struggle and gibbering to himself--the only one of the mob who had dared to venture so far. Perhaps he had been waiting for his chance against the man who had destroyed his life, and had chosen the very moment of Simon's flight for his revenge. Who knows? But as Simon slipped back he sprang forward, something s.h.i.+ning in his hand, and flung himself desperately against the door ere it could be closed. The moment's delay he caused was our chance, and rus.h.i.+ng forward we too added our weight to that of the maniac.

In an instant the door gave way, and we dashed in, the madman first, striking to the right and left of him with a poniard. It is difficult, almost impossible, to describe what followed. All that I know is that I stumbled over someone who had fallen, and as I rose to my feet I caught a glimpse of De Mouchy flying up the stair, Le Brusquet at his heels, and realised at the same instant that Simon was on me, death in his eyes.

Nothing could have saved me then, but that a stronger hand than that of man was stretched forth to claim its own vengeance. As Simon's arm was lifted the figure over which I had fallen raised itself to its knees and, clasping the Vidame round the waist, buried a knife in his side.

With a fearful cry Simon shortened his sword and stabbed back in his turn; but De Ganache, for it was he, uttered no sound, and with a last effort, rising to his feet, struck Simon once more, this time to the heart. And they both fell sideways, the madman's hand still clenching the haft of the poniard in his death-grip.

It was over in a hand-turn, and the two who had died so terribly together had taken their quarrel with them to the last judgment seat.

Simon's face I could not see; but as I bent over the two I saw in the glazing eyes of De Ganache the light of an unutterable hate--a hate that, mayhap, was carried beyond the grave.

"Orrain! Orrain!"

Twice the cry rang out--Le Brusquet's voice--and pus.h.i.+ng my way past the mob that had already swarmed in and begun to sack and pillage I ran up the stair. At the head stood Le Brusquet, and huddled in a corner near a door was De Mouchy, with a white, fear-stricken face and chattering teeth, and De Lorgnac's sword at his heart.

Numbers had followed me, and at the sight of De Mouchy a roar went forth that was taken up by those below.

"Give us the judge! Give us De Mouchy!"

Let it be remembered, that amongst those who cried for him to be thrown to them were many who had suffered, or seen their dearest suffer, hideous torture at his hands. Revenge, and such revenge as this, was never dreamed of, never hoped for by them, and now that chance had placed it within their reach they were almost mad for it. Shouting, struggling, and raging they crowded the stair. A moment more, and De Mouchy was lost; but it was then that Le Brusquet stayed them with a jest, a grim jest that tickled their fancy, and arrested their outstretched hands for a yet sweeter vengeance.

"A moment, my children!" he called out, barring the way at the head of the stair; "one moment! We have a little business with monsieur here, and after that you can make this house another Chambre Ardente if you will."

They laughed and cheered him in their fickle mood, and as De Mouchy heard too some choking words escaped from his blue lips, and he made a forward movement, but at the sight of me he shrank back again, terror and despair on his face, and, grovelling on the floor, wept for his life.

This fiend, who had never shown mercy, now that his own time was come, pleaded abjectly, pleaded with tears and miserable cries for the life he had forfeited ten times over, and each frenzied appeal he made was answered with mocking laughter by those who, crowded on the stair, were waiting with patience, deadly patience, for the time when he would be their very own.

I raised him to his feet, and in a few quick words asked him for mademoiselle. He could not speak, but pointed to the door at his side.

It was closed, not locked, and, pus.h.i.+ng it open, I dragged him through after me. A cry of anger rose from those on the stair, who feared their prey would escape, and, despite Le Brusquet's appeals, they were no longer to be restrained. With a rush they bore back both Le Brusquet and De Lorgnac, but keeping themselves between me and the foremost of those who followed us, with alternate threats and appeals, my brave friends enabled me to make headway. Down we went, along a narrow pa.s.sage, at one end of which was a door.