The White House Part 84

"I will take you again when I come out."

Then, with the other in his hand, he easily scaled the low garden wall.

He had not taken four steps when he heard Vaillant bark, and the dog rushed fiercely at him; but the vagabond, expecting that attack, had prepared to defend himself; advancing to meet the threatening beast, he buried the sword in his body; despite that wound, the dog leaped upon his foe and bit him savagely in the face and neck; but the loss of blood weakened him, and three more sword thrusts completed his discomfiture; poor Vaillant fell helpless at the vagabond's feet, whereupon he threw aside the weapon he had used, and hastened upstairs to Isaure's bedroom.

The girl was seated sadly by her window; the memory of Edouard was her sole comfort; she was not to see him again but she could continue to love him, and she abandoned herself entirely to that sentiment. When our wills and our desires are thwarted, we feel a secret satisfaction in saying to ourselves that we can at all events dispose of our hearts as we please; and women especially take refuge in that source of consolation, because they are much less at liberty to follow their wishes in their acts.

At the first yelp of her faithful guardian, Isaure started; she thought that someone was prowling about the house; she listened, and then called her dog:

"What is it, Vaillant? What has frightened you?"

"It is I," replied the vagabond, abruptly entering the girl's room.

Isaure uttered a cry of alarm at sight of that man, whose face and neck were covered with blood, and who glared at her with threatening eyes.

"Come! You must go with me, you must leave this house at once," said the stranger, approaching the pale and trembling Isaure with a savage expression. "Take some of your clothes, make a bundle of them, they will be useful to me, and give me all the money you have here; you must have plenty and we shall need it. Come! Do you hear me?"

Isaure had heard, but she could not believe her ears; she fell on her knees and raised her hands imploringly to the man who stood before her, crying:

"Monsieur, what are you going to do with me?"

"As I have told you, I am going to take you away, that is all."

"Take me away! Where are you going to take me?"

"Where I please! Ten thousand thunders! that doesn't concern you."

"Oh! monsieur, see, my money is there in that drawer; it is all I have.

Take the money, take my clothes; take what you will--but I implore you, do not take me away!"

The vagabond opened the drawer that the girl pointed out to him and filled his pockets with the money he found there, muttering:

"Good! Here's enough to live on for a century in these mountains."

Then he turned, and finding Isaure still on her knees, in the same spot, he cried angrily:

"Well! didn't you hear me? I told you to make a bundle of your clothes!

Make haste!"

"Oh! mon Dieu! Do you still mean to take me away?" said Isaure, in an imploring voice.

"Do I mean to? Yes, that is why I forced my way into your house and braved death. This blood flowing from my face should prove to you that my resolution is not to be shaken, that I will allow neither your prayers nor your tears to change my mind. As for your shrieks, they would be thrown away, for no one can hear you; your protectors, your friends, are not near you now; your faithful guardian is dead."

"Vaillant dead!" exclaimed Isaure, with a cry of horror which was soon followed by a flood of tears.

"Yes, Vaillant is dead, or nearly so. Come! No words, no useless prayers! I say again--you must follow me willingly, or----"

The stranger took the girl's arm and pressed it so violently that the pain nearly deprived her of strength; she could only falter:

"I will obey you, monsieur," whereupon the vagabond released her arm and pushed her roughly toward the bureau.

Having no idea what she was doing, or what was going to become of her, Isaure collected a few clothes at random, tied them in a handkerchief, took the bundle in her hand, and leaned against the wall in order not to fall.

"That is well," said the vagabond; "now give me your hand and come."

He took the hand which the girl tremblingly held out to him; he led her to the staircase, and seeing that she was staggering, compelled her to lean on his arm. When they arrived in the courtyard, Isaure saw Vaillant bathed in his blood; the faithful beast uttered a plaintive groan, and tried to rise to defend his mistress. At that sight, Isaure lost consciousness; she was falling to the ground when her guide caught her in his arms; and, throwing her over his left shoulder, walked toward the garden, preferring to go out that way rather than through the main gateway. He opened the small gate leading into the fields and picked up his sword which he had left there; then, notwithstanding the burden which he carried, he walked with a firm and swift step toward the mountains. It was a cold, rainy night, but the vagabond made rapid progress, although he took the steepest paths and the rough, winding roads by preference. From time to time he turned his head to glance at her whom he was carrying. Isaure was still unconscious, her lovely face had the pallor of death, and was wet with the rain which fell upon her whole body. But, little touched by the girl's state, her abductor, after glancing at her, simply muttered:

"She will come out all right! This is not very serious!"

After walking a long while in this way, the stranger stopped on the top of a hill; he gazed about for some time, as if trying to make out where he was; then he placed the rain-soaked, unconscious girl on the ground, saying:

"I must take breath; she is not heavy, but after awhile the weight makes itself felt."

He gazed for some time at the body lying at his feet, which seemed already to belong to death; a bitter smile played about his lips while he gazed at Isaure, and he exclaimed:

"So here she is in my power, this girl whom the baron secretly comes to these mountains to see, this peasant whose education he has provided for, and whom he adores, no doubt! At last I am about to taste the pleasures of revenge! I wanted Alfred to abduct this girl, I tried to induce him to do all sorts of foolish things, and to fight with his friend; but all that would not have distressed the baron so much as the loss of this girl. Yes, I know what a man feels when another steals from him the woman whom he adores; I too loved Adele; Adele was mine; I had the right to look upon her as my wife; and yet he took her away from me!"

Several moments pa.s.sed, the vagabond seemed entirely absorbed by his memories; but at last he looked at Isaure again and stooped over her, saying:

"She doesn't come to herself! She doesn't move! Suppose she should die!

Oh! I do not want her to die! No, so long as she is with me, she may live,--but with De Marcey, never!"

He took the child's head, raised it, rested it on his knee, and tried to warm Isaure's icy hands in his. He felt in the bundle of clothes which he had carried away, and with the first thing he found wiped the poor child's dripping face. At last, life seemed to return to her features, which had been so long inanimate; the beating of her heart became more rapid. Isaure opened her eyes, looked about her, and shuddered with dismay, when she found herself lying on the summit of a cliff, in the middle of the night, with her head resting against the breast of the man who had kidnapped her from her home.

"Calm yourself, be yourself again, and fear nothing," said the stranger.

"Oh! mon Dieu! Then it is not a dream!" cried Isaure, rising to her feet; "I am no longer in the home where I pa.s.sed my childhood, in Andre's cottage; and it is you who have taken me away! it is you who killed----"

"Yes," replied the vagabond coolly, "it was I who killed Vaillant, in order not to be torn to pieces by him; I had to do it. I would have sacrificed you too, if you had not consented to come with me."

"Unhappy creature that I am!"

"Come, come, don't be afraid; you came with me, you are with me now, you have nothing to fear any more, that is to say, unless you make more fuss, unless you try to escape; but I fancy you will be reasonable, and will submit to your fate. I can very well understand that you would have preferred to live luxuriously in your cottage, where you had everything in abundance, where your mysterious protector allowed you to lack nothing; and, in short, where you were able to play the coquette with the young men who came to see you. That life was more agreeable for a young girl than the life you will lead with me--I agree to that. But you must make the best of it, for my will is irrevocable; your tears, your lamentations, your sighs, all will be thrown away on me. I have decided that you are not to leave me any more; but do not think that it is love which has led me to form this resolution. No! I am not in love with you, I have no sort of idea of seducing you. In that respect you may be perfectly tranquil. And yet you are pretty, very pretty indeed; but I give you my word that that is a matter of indifference to me."

These last words allayed in some measure Isaure's grief and alarm; and fearing to irritate anew this man whose wrath seemed to her a terrible thing, she replied, forcing back her sobs:

"Well, monsieur, I will obey you; I will do whatever you command."

"That is well, that is very well; you are a good girl," said the vagabond, shaking Isaure's hand; "in this way, we shall be good friends.

But it must be nearly midnight, and we must resume our journey. Do you feel strong enough to walk? If you cannot, I will carry you; do not hesitate to say so."

"Oh! I can walk, monsieur."

"In that case, take my arm, lean on me, and let us go."

Isaure obeyed without comment; she took the arm of her guide, who had hung the bundle on the end of his sword, and carried it thus over his shoulder. They went on again through the rocky paths; they went away from Ayda, and reached the chain of hills which connects those of Cantal and of Puy-de-Dome; Isaure was forced to cling to her companion's arm in order to keep on her feet in the steep and slippery paths. They walked in silence, but sometimes the vagabond asked Isaure:

"Are you tired? Would you like to rest awhile?"

"No, monsieur, I can go on," the girl would reply; and they would continue their journey.