Doom Castle Part 31

He had walked, he knew not how long, when he was brought up by a curious sound--a prolonged, continuous, hollow roar as of wind in a wood or a sea that rolled on a distant beach. Vainly he sought to identify it, but finally shook aside his wonder and pushed on again till he came to the apparent end of the pa.s.sage, where a wooden door barred his progress farther. He stopped as much in amazement as in dubiety about the door, for the noise that had baffled him farther back in the tunnel was now close at hand, and he might have been in a s.h.i.+p's hold and the s.h.i.+p all blown about by tempest, to judge from the inexplicable thunder that shook the darkness. A score of surmises came quickly, only to be dismissed as quickly as they came; that extraordinary tumult was beyond his understanding, and so he applied himself to his release. Still his lucky fortune remained with him; the door was merely on a latch. He plucked it open eagerly, keen to solve the puzzle of the noise, emerging on a night now glittering with stars, and clamant with the roar of tumbling waters.

A simple explanation!--he had come out beside the river. The pa.s.sage came to its conclusion under the dumb arch of a bridge whose concaves echoed back in infinite exaggeration every sound of the river as it gulped in rocky pools below.

The landscape round about him in the stars.h.i.+ne had a most bewitching influence. Steep banks rose from the riverside and lost themselves in a haze of frost, through which, more eminent, stood the boles and giant members of vast gaunt trees, their upper branches fretting the starry sky. No snow was on the spot where he emerged, for the wind, blowing huge wreaths against the b.u.t.tresses of the bridge a little higher on the bank, had left some vacant s.p.a.ces, but the rest of the world was blanched well-nigh to the complexion of linen. Where he was to turn to first puzzled Count Victor. He was free in a whimsical fas.h.i.+on, indeed, for he was scarcely more than half-clad, and he wore a pair of dancing-shoes, ludicrously inappropriate for walking in such weather through the country. He was free, but he could not be very far yet from his cell; the discovery of his escape might be made known at any moment; and even now while he lingered here he might have followers in the tunnel.

Taking advantage of the uncovered gra.s.s he climbed the bank and sought the shelter of a thicket where the young trees grew too dense to permit the snow to enter. From here another hazard of flight was manifest, for he could see now that the face of the country outside on the level was spread as with a tablecloth, its white surface undisturbed, ready for the impress of so light an object as a hopping wren. To make his way across it would be to drag his bonds behind him, plainly asking the world to pull him back. Obviously there must be a more tactical retreat, and without more ado he followed the river's course, keeping ever, as he could, in the shelter of the younger woods, where the snow did not lie or was gathered by the wind in alleys and walls. Forgotten was the cold in his hurried flight through the trees; but by-and-by it compelled his attention, and he fell to beating his arms in the shelter of a plantation of yews.

"_Mort de ma vie!_" he thought while in this occupation, "why should I not have a roquelaire? If his very ungracious Grace refuses to see when a man is dying of cold for want of a coat, shall the man not help himself to a loan? M. le Duc owes Cammercy something for that ride in a gla.s.s coach, and for a night of a greatcoat I shall be pleased to discharge the family obligation."

Count Victor there and then came to a bold decision. He would, perhaps, not only borrow a coat and cover his nakedness, but furthermore cover his flight by the same strategy. The only place in the neighbourhood where he could obscure his footsteps in that white night of stars was in the castle itself--perhaps in the very fosse whence he had made his escape. There the traffic of the day was bound to have left a myriad tracks, amongst which the imprint of a red-heeled Rouen shoe would never advertise itself. But it was too soon yet to risk so bold a venture, for his absence might be at this moment the cause of search round all the castle, and ordinary prudence suggested that he should permit some time to pa.s.s before venturing near the dwelling that now was in his view, its lights blurred by haze, no sign apparent that they missed or searched for him.

For an hour or more, therefore, he kept his blood from congelation by walking back and forward in the thicket into which the softly breathing but shrewish night wind penetrated less cruelly than elsewhere, and at last judged the interval enough to warrant his advance upon the enterprise.

Behold then Count Victor running hard across the white level waste of the park into the very boar's den--a comic spectacle, had there been any one to see it, in a dancer's shoes and hose, coatless and excited.

He looked over the railing of the fosse to find the old silence undisturbed.

Was his flight discovered yet? If not it was something of a madness, after all, to come back to the jaws of the trap.

"Here's a pretty problem!" he told himself, hesitating upon the brink of the ditch into which dipped a ma.s.sive stair--"Here's a pretty problem!

to have the roquelaire or to fly without it and perish of cold, because there is one chance in twenty that monsieur the warder opposite my chamber may not be wholly a fool and may have looked into his mousetrap.

I do not think he has; at all events here are the alternatives, and the wiser is invariably the more unpleasant. _Allons!_ Victor, _advienne que pourra_, and Heaven help us!"

He ran quickly down the stair into the fosse, crept along in the shelter of the ivy for a little, saw that no one was visible, and darted across and up to a postern in the eastern turret. The door creaked noisily as he entered, and a flight of stairs, dimly lit by candles, presented itself, up which he ventured with his heart in his mouth. On the first landing were two doors, one of them ajar; for a second or two he hesitated with every nerve in his flesh pulsating and his heart tumultuous in his breast; then hearing nothing, took his courage in his hands and blandly entered, with his feet at a fencer's balance for the security of his retreat if that were necessary. There was a fire glowing in the apartment--a tempting spectacle for the s.h.i.+vering refugee, a dim light burned within a gla.s.s shade upon the mantel, and a table laden with drug-vials was drawn up to the side of a heavily-curtained bed.

Count Victor compa.s.sed the whole at a glance, and not the least pleasant part of the spectacle was the sight of a coat--not a greatcoat, but still a coat--upon the back of a chair that stood between the bed and the fire.

"With a thousand apologies to his Grace," he whispered to himself, and tiptoed in his soaking shoes across the floor without reflecting for a second that the bed might have an occupant. He examined the coat; it had a familiar look that might have indicated its owner even if there had not been the flageolet lying beside it. Instinctively Count Victor turned about and went up to the bed, where, silently peeping between the curtains, he saw his enemy of the morning so much in a natural slumber as it seemed that he was heartened exceedingly. Only for a moment he looked; there was the certainty of some one returning soon to the room, and accordingly he rapidly thrust himself into the coat and stepped back upon the stair.

There was but one thing wanting--a sword! Why should he not have his own back again? As he remembered the interview of the morning, the chamber in which he had left his weapon at the bidding of the Duke was close at hand, and probably it was still there. Each successive hazard audaciously faced emboldened him the more; and so he ventured along, searching amid a mult.i.tude of doors in dim rushlight till he came upon one that was different from its neighbours only inasmuch as it had a French motto painted across the panels. The motto read "_Revenez bientot_," and smiling at the omen, Count Victor once more took his valour in his fingers and turned the handle. "_Revenez bientot_" he was whispering softly to himself as he noiselessly pushed in the door. The sentence froze on his lips when he saw the d.u.c.h.ess seated in a chair, and turned half round to look at him.

CHAPTER x.x.xII -- THE INDISCRETION OF THE d.u.c.h.eSS

There was no drawing back; the circ.u.mstances positively forbade it, even if a certain smile following fast upon the momentary embarra.s.sment of the d.u.c.h.ess had not prompted him to put himself at her mercy.

"A thousand pardons, Madame la d.u.c.h.esse," he said, standing in the doorway. "_Je vous derange_."

She rose from her chair composedly, a figure of matured grace and practised courtliness, and above all with an air of what he flattered himself was friendliness. She directed him to a seat.

"The pleasure is unexpected, monsieur," she said; "but it is a moment for quick decision, I suppose. What is the cue? To be desperate?" here she laughed softly, "or to take a chair? Monsieur has called to see his Grace. I regret exceedingly that a pressing business has called my husband to the town, and he is unlikely to be back for another hour at least. If monsieur--a.s.suming desperation is not the cue--will please to be seated--"

Count Victor was puzzled for a second or two, but came farther into the room, and, seeing the lady resume her seat, he availed himself of her invitation and took the chair she offered.

"Madame la d.u.c.h.esse," he went on to say with some evidence of confusion that prejudiced her the more in his favour, "I am, as you see, in the drollest circ.u.mstances, and--pardon the _betise_--time is at the moment the most valuable of my a.s.sets."

"Oh!" she cried with a low laugh that gave evidence of the sunniest disposition in the world--"Oh! that is not a pretty speech, monsieur!

But there! you cannot, of course, know my powers of entertainment.

Positively there need be no hurry. On my honour, as the true friend of a gentleman who looked very like monsieur, and was, by the way, a compatriot, I repeat there is no occasion for haste. I presume monsieur found no servants--those stupid servants!--to let him into the house, and wisely found an entrance for himself? How droll! It is our way in these barbaric places; people just come and go as they please; we waive ceremony. By the way, monsieur has not done me the honour to confide to me his name."

"Upon my word, Madame la d.u.c.h.esse, I--I forget it myself at the moment,"

said Count Victor, divining her strategy, but too much embarra.s.sed to play up to her lead. "Perhaps madame may remember."

She drew down her brows in a comical frown, and then rippled into low laughter. "Now, how in the world should I know if monsieur does not? I, that have never"--here she stared in his face with a solemnity in which her amus.e.m.e.nt struggled--"never, to my knowledge, seen him before. I have heard the Duke speak of a certain M. Soi-disant! perhaps monsieur is Monsieur Soi-disant?"

"_Sans doute_, Madame la d.u.c.h.esse, and madame's very humble servant,"

acquiesced Count Victor, relieved to have his first impression of strategy confirmed, and inclining his head.

She looked at him archly and laughed again. "I have a great admiration for your s.e.x, M. Soi-disant," she said; "my dear Duke compels it, but now and then--now and then--I think it a little stupid. Not to know your own name! I hope monsieur does not hope to go through life depending upon women all the time to set him at ease in his chair. You are obviously not at ease in your chair, Monsieur Soi-disant."

"It is this coat, Madame la d.u.c.h.esse," Count Victor replied, looking down at the somewhat too ample sleeves and skirt; "I fell into it--"

"That is very obvious," she interrupted, with no effort to conceal her amus.e.m.e.nt.

"I fell into it by sheer accident, and it fits me like an evil habit, and under the circ.u.mstances is as inconvenient to get rid of."

"And still an excellent coat, monsieur. Let me see; has it not a familiar look? Oh! I remember; it is very like one I have seen with the Duke's Chamberlain--poor fellow! Monsieur has doubtless heard of his accident, and will be glad to learn that he is out of danger, and like to be abroad in a very short time."

This was a humour touching him too closely; he replied in a monosyllable.

"Perhaps it was the coat gave me the impression that I had seen monsieur somewhere before. He reminds me, as I have said, of a compatriot who was the cause of the Chamberlain's injury."

"And is now, doubtless, in prison," added the Count, bent on giving evidence of some inventiveness of his own.

"Nay! by no means," cried the d.u.c.h.ess. "He was in a cell, but escaped two or three hours ago, as our watchman discovered, and is now probably far away from here."

"Ah, then," said Count Victor with nonchalance, "I daresay they will speedily recapture him. If they only knew the way with any of my compatriots it is to put a woman in his path, only she must be a woman of _esprit_ and charm, and she shall engage him, I'll warrant, till the pursuit come up, even if it takes a century and the axe is at the end of it."

The d.u.c.h.ess coughed.

The Count hemmed.

They both broke into laughter.

"Luckily, then," said she, "he need have no anxiety on that score, should he meet the lady, for the pursuit is neither hot nor hearty.

Between ourselves, monsieur, it is non-existent. If I were to meet this person we speak of I should--but for the terror I know I should feel in his society--tell him that so long as he did not venture within a couple of miles of this castle he was perfectly safe from interference."

"And yet a dangerous man, Madame la d.u.c.h.esse," said Count Victor; "and I have heard the Duke is determined on his punishment, which is of course proper--from his Grace's point of view."

"Yes, yes! I am told he is a dangerous man, a very monster. The Duke a.s.sured me of that, though if I were to tell the truth, Monsieur Soi-disant, I saw no evidence of it in the young gentleman when I met him last night. A most harmless fellow, I a.s.sure you. Are monsieur's feet not cold?"

She was staring at his red-heeled dancing-shoes.

"_Pas du tout!_" he replied promptly, tucking them under his chair.

"These experiments in costume are a foible with me."

There was a step along the corridor outside, which made him snap off his sentence hurriedly and turn listening and apprehensive. Again the d.u.c.h.ess was amused.