"You are free, mademoiselle," he repeated emphatically, bowing before her.
"But I thought——"
"Did you think that I could be allied5 with such cowardly thieves and vagabonds as those?"
"But you said——"
"It was simply a ruse7. Could you imagine that one of my family, that I, should fail in respect and devotion to one of yours, to you? I determined8 to free you the instant I saw you."
"And will you not complete your good work?" broke out the man tied to the chair in harsh and foreign but sufficiently9 comprehensible French, "by straightway releasing me, young sir?"
"But who is this?"
"This is Sir Gervaise Yeovil," answered Mademoiselle Laure, "my attorney, an English officer-of-the-law, of Lord Castlereagh's suite10, who came with me from Chatillon to get certain papers and——"
"Why all this bother and explanation?" burst out Sir Gervaise. "Tell him to cut these lashes11 and release me from this cursed bondage," he added in English.
"That is quite another matter, sir," said Marteau gravely. "I regret that you are an enemy and that I can not——"
"But we are not enemies, Monsieur," cried one of the officers, who had just succeeded in working a gag out of his mouth. "We are Russian officers of the Imperial Guard and since you have deserted12 the cause of the Corsican you will——"
"Deserted!" thundered Marteau, his pale face flaming. "That was as much a ruse as the other."
"What, then, do you mean by wearing a Russian coat over your uniform and——"
"He is a spy. He shall be hanged," said the other, also freeing himself of his gag.
"Indeed," laughed Marteau. "And do you gentlemen ask me to release you in order that you may hang me?"
"I won't hang you," burst out the Englishman. "On the contrary, I'll give you fifty pounds if you'll cut these cords and——"
Marteau shook his head.
"Countess," bellowed13 Yeovil angrily, "there's a knife on the table yonder, pray do you——"
The young woman made a swift step in that direction, but the Frenchman was too quick for her.
"Pardon me, mademoiselle, I beg that the first use you make of your new life be not to aid my enemies."
"Your enemies, Marteau?"
"The enemies of France, then."
"Not my uncle's France," said the girl.
"But your father's, and I had hoped yours."
"No, no."
"In any event, these gentlemen must remain bound for the time being. No harm shall come to you from me," continued Marteau, addressing the two officers. "But as for these hounds——" He stepped over to the two Cossacks, who lay mute. He bent14 over them with such a look of rage, ruthless determination and evil purpose in his face as startled the woman into action.
"Monsieur!" she cried, stepping over to him and striving to interpose between him and the two men. "Marteau, what would you do?"
"My sister—dead in the cottage yonder after—after——" he choked out. He stopped, his fingers twitching15. "My old father! If I served them right I would pitch them into yonder fireplace or torture them, the dogs, the cowards!"
"My friend," said the young Countess gently, laying her hand on his arm.
Marteau threw up his hands, that touch recalled him to his senses.
"I will let them alone for the present," he said. "Meanwhile——" He seized the dead man and dragged the body out of sight behind the tables.
"Will monsieur give a thought to me?" came another voice from the dim recesses16 of a far corner.
"And who are you?" asked Marteau, lifting the light and staring.
"A Frenchman, sir. They knocked me on the head and left me for dead, but if monsieur would assist me I——"
Marteau stepped over to him, bent down and lifted him up. He was a stout17, hardy18 looking peasant boy, pale cheeked, with blood clotted19 around his forehead from a blow that he had received. Feverish20 fire sparkled in his eyes.
"If monsieur wishes help to put these brutes21 out of the way command me," he said passionately22.
"We will do nothing with them at present," answered Marteau.
"Quick, Laure, the knife," whispered the Englishman.
The Frenchman heard him, however, and wheeled around.
"Mademoiselle," he cried, "on your honor I charge you not to abuse the liberty I have secured for you and that I allow you."
"But, my friends——"
"If you had depended on your friends you would even now be——" he paused—"as my sister," he added with terrific intensity23.
"Your pleasure shall be mine," said the young woman.
"If I could have a drink of wine!" said the young peasant, sinking down into a chair.
"There is a flask24 which they did not get in the pocket of one of the officers yonder," said the young Frenchwoman, looking sympathetically at the poor exhausted25 lad.
Marteau quickly recovered it, in spite of the protestations of the officer, who looked his indignation at this little betrayal by the woman. He gave some of it to the peasant and then offered it to mademoiselle and, upon her declining it, took a long drink himself. He was weak and trembling with all he had gone through.
"Now, what's to be our further course?" asked the countess.
"I don't know yet. I——"
But the answer was never finished. Shots, cries, the sound of galloping26 horses came faintly through the open door.
"My men returning!" cried the Russian officer triumphantly27. "Our turn will come now, sir."
Two courses were open. To run or to fight. Duty said go; love said stay. Duty was stronger. After a moment's hesitation28 Marteau dashed for the door. He was too late. The returning Russian cavalry29 was already entering the courtyard. Fate had decided30 against him. He could not go now. He thought with the swiftness of a veteran. He sprang back into the hall, threw the great iron-bound door into its place, turned the massive key in its lock, thanking God that key and lock were still intact, dropped the heavy bars at top and bottom that further secured it, just as the first horseman thundered upon the door.
In his rapid passage through the house the young Frenchman had noticed that all the windows were shuttered and barred, that only the front door appeared to have been opened. He was familiar with the château. He knew how carefully its openings had been secured and how often his father had inspected them, to keep out brigands32, the waifs and strays, the wanderers, the low men of the countryside. For the moment he was safe with his prisoners, one man and a boy guarding a score of men and one woman, and holding a château against a hundred and fifty soldiers! Fortunately, there would be no cannon33 with that troop of cavalry, there were no cannon in that wagon34 train, so that they could not batter35 down the château over his head. What his ultimate fate would be he could not tell. Could he hold that castle indefinitely? If not, what? How he was to get away and reach Napoleon with his vital news he could not see. There must be some way, however. Well, whatever was to be would be, and meanwhile he could only wait developments and hold on.
The troopers outside were very much astonished to find the heavy door closed and the two sentries36 dead on the terrace. They dismounted from their horses at the foot of the terrace and crowded about the door, upon which they beat with their pistols, at the same time shouting the names and titles of the officers within. Inside the great hall Marteau had once more taken command. In all this excitement Laure d'Aumenier had stood like a stone, apparently37 indifferent to the appeals of the four bound men on the floor and the Englishman in the chair that she cut the ropes with which they were bound, while the French officer was busy at the door. Perhaps that young peasant might have prevented her, but as a matter of fact, she made no attempt to answer their pleas. She stood waiting and watching. Just as Marteau reëntered the room the chief Russian officer shouted out a command. From where he lay on the floor his voice did not carry well and there was too much tumult38 outside for anyone to hear. In a second Marteau was over him.
"If you open your mouth again, monsieur," he said fiercely, "I shall have to choose between gagging and killing39 you, and I incline to the latter. And these other gentlemen may take notice. You, what are you named?"
"Pierre Lebois, sir," answered the peasant.
"Can you fire a gun?"
"Give me a chance," answered the young fellow. "I've got people dead, yonder, to avenge40."
The brigands had left the swords and pistols of the officers on chairs, tables and the floor. There were eight pistols. Marteau gathered them up. The English baronet yielded one other, a huge, heavy, old-fashioned weapon.
"There are loopholes in the shutters41 yonder," said the officer. "Do you take that one, I will take the other. They will get away from the door in a moment and as soon as you can see them fire."
"Mademoiselle," said the Russian officer desperately42, "I shall have to report to the commander of the guard and he to the Czar that you gave aid and comfort to our enemies."
"But what can I do?" asked the young woman. "Monsieur Marteau could certainly shoot me if I attempted——"
"Assuredly," said Marteau, smiling at her in a way anything but fierce.
It was that implicit43 trust in her that restrained her and saved him. As a girl the young countess had been intensely fond of Jean Marteau. He certainly appeared well in his present role before her. In the revulsion of feeling in finding him not a bully44, not a traitor45, but a devoted46 friend and servitor, he advanced higher in her estimation than ever before. Besides, the young woman was by no means so thoroughgoing a loyalist as her old uncle, for instance.
"I can see them now, monsieur," said the young peasant from the peep-hole in the shutter31.
Indeed, the men outside had broken away from the door, groups were running to and fro seeking lights and some other entrance. Taking aim at the nearest Marteau pulled the trigger and Pierre followed his example. The noise of the explosions was succeeded by a scream of anguish47, one man was severely48 wounded and another killed. Something mysterious had happened while they had been off on the wild goose chase apparently, the Russians decided. The château had been seized, their officers had been made way with, it was held by the enemy.
"They can't be anything more than wandering peasants," cried an imperious voice in Russian outside. "I thought you had made thorough work with them all, Scoref," continued the speaker. "Your Cossacks must have failed to complete the job."
"It will be the first time," answered Scoref, the hetman of the raiders. "Look, the village burns!"
"Well, what's to be done now?" said the first voice.
"I don't know, Baron," was the answer. "Besieging49 castles is more in your line than in mine."
"Shall we fire again, monsieur?" asked Pierre within.
"No," was the answer. "Remember we've only got eight shots and we must wait."
"Let us have lights," cried the commander of the squadron. "Here, take one of those wagons50 and——"
In a few moments a bright fire was blazing in the courtyard.
"The shots came from those windows," continued the Russian. "Keep out of the way and—— Isn't that a window open up there?"
"It is, it is!" came the answer from a dozen throats.
All the talk being in Russian was, of course, not understood by the two Frenchmen.
"One of you climb up there," continued the Russian. "You see the spout51, and the coping, that buttress52? Ten roubles to the man who does it."
A soldier sprang forward. Those within could hear his heavy body rub along the wall. They did not know what he was doing or what was toward. They were in entire ignorance that a shutter had become detached from its hinges in the room above the drawing-room and that they would soon have to face an attack from the rear. The man who climbed fancied himself perfectly53 secure, and indeed he was from those within. It was a hard climb, but presently he reached the window-ledge54. His hands clasped it, he made a brave effort, drew himself up and on the instant from beyond the wagons came a pistol shot. The man shrieked55, released his hold and fell crashing to the ground. The besiegers broke into wild outcries. Some of them ran in the direction whence the shot had come. They thought they caught the glimpse of a figure running away in the darkness. Pistols were fired and the vicinity was thoroughly56 searched, but they found nothing.
The shot, the man's cry overhead, the body crashing down to the ground, enlightened Marteau. He handed Pierre two of the six remaining pistols, told him to run to the floor above and watch the window. The young peasant crossed himself and turned away. He found the room easily enough. It was impossible to barricade57 the window, but he drew back in the darkness and waited.
Having found no one in the grove58 beyond the baggage-wagons, the Russians called for another volunteer and a second man offered. Pierre heard him coming, permitted him to gain the ledge and then thrust the pistol in his face and pulled the trigger. At the same time a big Cossack coming within easy range and standing59 outlined between the loophole and the fire, Marteau gave him his second bullet, with fatal effect. There flashed into his mind that the shot which had come so opportunely60 from outside bespoke61 the arrival of his friend, the grenadier. He hoped the man would have sense enough to go immediately to Sézanne and report the situation. If he could maintain the defense62 of the castle for two hours he might be rescued. He stepped to the hall and called up to Pierre. Receiving a cheery reply to the effect that all was well and that he would keep good watch, he came back into the great hall and resumed his ward6.
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1
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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gainsaid
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| v.否认，反驳( gainsay的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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accomplice
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| n.从犯，帮凶，同谋 | |
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allied
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| adj.协约国的；同盟国的 | |
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6
ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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7
ruse
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| n.诡计，计策；诡计 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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10
suite
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| n.一套(家具)；套房；随从人员 | |
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lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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12
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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13
bellowed
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的过去式和过去分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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14
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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15
twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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18
hardy
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| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
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19
clotted
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| adj.凝结的v.凝固( clot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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20
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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brutes
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| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
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22
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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23
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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24
flask
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| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
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25
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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26
galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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27
triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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28
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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29
cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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30
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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31
shutter
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| n.百叶窗；(照相机)快门；关闭装置 | |
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32
brigands
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| n.土匪，强盗( brigand的名词复数 ) | |
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33
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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34
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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35
batter
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| v.接连重击；磨损；n.牛奶面糊；击球员 | |
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36
sentries
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| 哨兵，步兵( sentry的名词复数 ) | |
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37
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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38
tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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39
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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40
avenge
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| v.为...复仇，为...报仇 | |
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41
shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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42
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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43
implicit
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| a.暗示的，含蓄的，不明晰的，绝对的 | |
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44
bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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45
traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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46
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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47
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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48
severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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49
besieging
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| 包围，围困，围攻( besiege的现在分词 ) | |
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50
wagons
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| n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 )；铁路货车；小手推车 | |
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51
spout
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| v.喷出，涌出；滔滔不绝地讲；n.喷管；水柱 | |
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52
buttress
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| n.支撑物；v.支持 | |
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53
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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54
ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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55
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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56
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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57
barricade
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| n.路障，栅栏，障碍；vt.设路障挡住 | |
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58
grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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59
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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60
opportunely
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| adv.恰好地，适时地 | |
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61
bespoke
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| adj.（产品）订做的；专做订货的v.预定( bespeak的过去式 )；订（货）；证明；预先请求 | |
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62
defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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