That night as darkness fell upon the earth, and while, high up in the heavens, the bonfires burned which the attroupés lit regularly on the tops of the Cévennes in the hopes of thereby1 luring2 their enemies into their strongholds and fastnesses, Martin spoke3 to Urbaine, saying:
"Mademoiselle, I know not what is to be done. Had the unfortunate horse not been slain4 by that last bullet we might have got back to safety. To Montpellier or, failing that, to Lunel at least. Now it seems hopeless. You can go no farther and--and I can not leave you alone while I seek assistance, which, even if I did, I should not obtain. There is no assistance for--for those who are not on their side."
"I can not understand you, monsieur," Urbaine said quietly. "You are yourself a Protestant, my father told me--nay5, did you not so inform me that morning in our garden at Montpellier--yet you trouble to save me from your fr----, those of your faith. I am deeply grateful to you, only I do not comprehend."
For a moment his clear eyes rested on her. In the dusk that was now almost night she saw them plainly. Then he answered very quietly:
"Is it not enough, mademoiselle, that you are a woman? Must I, because I am a Protestant, have no right to the attributes of a man?"
"I--I ask your pardon; forgive me. I would not wound you--you who have saved me. And I thank you. Only, here, in Languedoc, we have learned in the last few weeks to expect no mercy from the Protestants."
"Like all who have turned against injustice6 and cruelty, they are now themselves unjust and cruel. One may respect their turning, even their uprising, yet not their methods."
Then for some moments there was silence between them.
They were seated, on this warm September night--for six weeks had passed since the murder of the abbé--upon a bank outside a deserted7 cottage a league or so from where the ambuscade and slaughter8 of Poul and the soldiers under him had taken place. Above them, all around them, in the little garden, there grew the sweet flowering acacias which are at their best in the valleys that lie between the Loire and the Rh?ne; the air was thick with their perfume. Also the gourds9 lay golden on the ground, uncut and ripening10 to decay. The scarlet11 beans trailed in rich profusion12 of colour on their sticks, illuminated13, too, by the fireflies that danced around. And from the distance of a pistol-shot off there came the murmur14 of the arrowy river as it dashed down between its banks to reach the sea.
Yet all was desolation here, and death. Death typified by the poor merle that lay forgotten and starved in its wicker cage, left behind when those who once dwelt here had fled a fortnight ago to the mountains at the report that De Broglie's chevaux-légers were devastating15 the land. They fled leaving behind them, too, the three-months-old calf16, and the fowls17, and all the simple household creatures, having no time to do aught but shift for themselves and bear away to safety those other harmless living things, the children.
"What is to be done I know not," Martin went on. "At any moment they may come this way; they know we have escaped so far. Then--then--it may mean instant death; at best, captivity18 in the mountains."
"For me," she answered, speaking low, "for me? I am Baville's adopted child--the child of his dear friend. But for you--you are of their----"
Then she paused, leaving the last word unsaid as she saw again his calm, sad eyes fixed19 on her. Once more she pleaded for pardon.
"Forgive, forgive me," she said. "I am vile20, ungenerous to speak thus. Yet we must part at last. They have no charge against you."
"We part," he replied, "when you--when both--are safe."
They knew not why at such a time as this, when action should have been everything and no moment wasted, in spite of the girl's fatigue21 and prostration22, silence should fall upon them; why they should sit there as though courting a fate that might come at any moment, for at any moment, above the hum of the near river, there might be heard the voices of the revolted Cévenoles. Beneath the branches of the acacias that o'erhung the dusty white road would perhaps be seen the unbrowned barrels of their guns or the scythes23 with which, since many of them had as yet no weapons, they were armed.
A silence between these two broken only by the twitter of birds in the branches, or by a sigh that rose unchecked from the girl's breast as, in the starlit dark, she turned her eyes on the features of the man by her side.
"Come," he said at last, rousing himself, "come. It is madness to remain here. We must move on even though we encounter death by doing so. It is not likely that all have returned to the mountains after their victory; they may pass by here at any moment. Can you proceed at all, mademoiselle?"
"I can at least try. Yet to where? To where?"
"I do not know the land very well," he answered, speaking in the slow, calm voice which had impressed her so much a month ago when the Intendant had, with strange indifference24 (as it seemed to both of them), presented Martin to Urbaine and left them to pass some hours in the orange garden of the Intendancy, he contenting himself with telling the girl that her new acquaintance was from the north and was not of their faith. "I do not know the land very well. Yet is there not a garrison25 near here? I think so. Called the--the chateau26 of--the fortress27 of--Servas."
"Ah, yes!" Urbaine cried, clasping her hands, "the Chateau de Servas. Between Alais and Uzès; not far from here. If we could reach that we should be safe. The commandant is known to my father--to De Broglie. He would protect us."
"We must attempt it," Martin replied. "It is our chance, mademoiselle," he exclaimed, breaking off as he heard a gasp28 from her lips, "What is it? What! What new terror?"
"I forgot," she whispered, her voice unsteady, "I forgot. In this instance the case is reversed. They are all of my faith--you--you--would be sacrificed. They are infuriated with these rebels. Alas29!" she almost wailed30, "they would not spare you. It is not to be dreamed on. Anywhere but there."
"Nay," he said, "nay. It must in truth be there. And for me fear not. I have saved the daughter of his Excellency for them. Even though they know I am this accursed thing in their eyes, a Protestant, they would scarcely repay me cruelly for that."
"They must never know it. By silence you are safe. Oh, let us attempt to reach it. It is but two or, at most, three leagues. I have been there with my father. He will bless you, worship you for saving me."
"Three leagues! three leagues!" he repeated, "three leagues! For me, nothing. Yet for you, a delicate woman!"
"The very thought, the hope of safety, inspires me. I am strong again. Come, monsieur, come, I beseech31 you, for both our sakes. For yours, for you who have saved me, above all."
"Not so," he said. "I am a man who has ventured into the tiger's jaws32 and must take my chance. I am of poor account."
And now they prepared to set forth33 to reach this place of refuge, yet both knew what dangers might well be expected ere they got there, if ever. For during the time which had elapsed since the Camisards, as at this time they began to be called, had risen and commenced their resistance by the slaughter of the Abbé Du Chaila, all Languedoc had been overrun with them and was in a state of terror. Also the flight of the inhabitants had become entirely34 reversed. It was the Catholics and the Catholic priests who were rushing out of the province as fast as they could go, while from their mountain homes the revolted Protestants who had taken up arms were pouring down in hundreds. Already, too, the cities were in a state of siege and the inhabitants fortifying35 themselves within the walls. That very night, although neither Martin nor Urbaine knew of it, the ancient city of N?mes, the Rome of France, expected to be besieged36, put to sword ere dawn; for by the time that they were hoping to accomplish their night journey to the Chateau de Servas the few dragoons who had escaped the slaughter which had fallen on Poul's detachment, as well as the fusileers and another band of cavalry37 and infantry38 who had been routed close by while under the command of De Broglie, had ridden pell-mell into N?mes, their weapons broken or lost, their heads covered with blood, themselves and their horses wounded. Rode in the bearers of awful tidings as to how the fanatics39 were led by two persons, one a lad of sixteen named Cavalier, the other a man a few years older named Roland; rode in and told how women fought on their side as the Amazons of old had fought; how men preached and encouraged them and sang canticles as they did so; of how they spared none; had beheaded Poul; had captured Baville's daughter and slain her, if not worse. Described also, with white quivering lips, how the tocsins were ringing from half a hundred churches in flames; told of priests flung across their own altars and done to death, of soldiers mutilated ere slain--all by bands of men who seemed to vanish into the air the moment after their deeds were accomplished40.
Meantime Baville's daughter and her rescuer were threading their course through the meadows and pastures that fringed the wayside, because thus her feet were more eased by the long, cool grass on which now the dews of night had fallen, or slowly finding a path through chestnut41 woods. Sometimes, too--leaving the river behind them and knowing they were going aright since its distant hum became fainter and fainter, and since, ever before them, yet afar off, the summits of La Lozère and Bouquet42 stood out more clear against the heavens--they passed vineyards on which the black grapes hung in clusters, when, pausing, they moistened their lips with the soft, luscious43 fruit. Yet went on and on, resting at intervals44, and then forward again, the girl leaning on the arm of her companion--the arm of the man whose faith she had been taught to despise and execrate45.
But once they had to stop for another reason than her fatigue, to pause in a great chestnut wood where the grass which grew at the feet of the trees was as soft and silky as thistle-down, and where the deer stared at them with wide-open, startled eyes; to pause because they heard a hundred yards away the voices of a band of men which passed along the wide road.
"It is they," she whispered, trembling. "It is they. Whom do they seek?"
"Fear not," he replied, soothing46 her, while at the same time he drew her within the decayed trunk of an enormous chestnut tree over whose head more than one century must have rolled. "They proceed too rapidly along the road, too swiftly on their way, to be in search of us. More like they go to midnight murder, the destruction of some harmless village, the pillage47 of some helpless town."
"Murder! Destruction! you deem it that? You!" she whispered, her soft, pure eyes glancing up at his.
"I deem it that," he replied gravely, "retaliation48 though it be."
The band went on, their voices coming back to them on the still night air, the refrain of one of their hymns50 borne back also--a hymn49 still breathing of revenge blessed by God, of vengeance51 ordained52 by him.
"If you are rested again," he whispered, "we may proceed."
Still helping53 her, assisting her as gently as though he had been her brother, he led her on until at last they left the shelter of the woods and stood upon a little knoll54 of ground, a spot from which they looked across a plain bordered on the farther side by slopes and hills that, rising one behind the other, lifted themselves finally to mountains whose ridges55 and summits stood out sharply against the starry56 sky. Yet saw, too, that now the stars grew whiter and began to pale, that all the heavens were turning to a soft primrose57 hue58, while, far away to the east, was the warm suffusing59 of scarlet which told of the coming day. Afar off, also, observed other crimson60 streaks61 over which there hung dun-coloured palls62 of smoke that proceeded from burning towns and hamlets.
Shuddering63, Urbaine directed her glance to the latter, then said, looking toward the north:
"There ahead of us is the Chateau de Servas. You see?" and as she spoke she pointed64 to where, above a low purple-crested hill, a white building hung.
"I see," he answered. "Pray God we reach it. You can still go on?"
"I must go on," she replied. "Once there we are safe. The chateau is well garrisoned65."
Even through this plain, vineyards ran along the side of the road which led to where the fortress stood; therefore they were not so open to observation as if it had been a flat, uncultivated expanse; and across this they passed, sheltered by the vines on either side. And now there arose a chance unhoped for--one which, had it happened earlier in their journey, might have brought them to the harbour of refuge they sought before the night had gone. Grazing at the side of the road was an old mule66, a creature rough-coated and long neglected and uncared for, its hide thick and coarse. Perhaps its being so poor a thing was the reason why it had not been carried off into the mountains either by those who owned it or by those who would have appropriated it if owned by their foes67. Yet it served now to ease Urbaine from further toil68, since Martin, catching69 it and placing his coat across its back as a saddle-cloth, lifted the girl on to it at once. Then instantly they set off again, he walking by the patient creature's side and directing it.
An hour later, when now the light had come and when the mountain tops were all gilded70 with the rays of the sun, while below on the plain the coolness of dawn was already receding71 before the genial72 warmth of a new day, they had reached their journey's end and were mounting the slope beneath the castle. And seeing the two cannon73 that stood on their cumbersome74 old carriages upon the walls, and the men-at-arms who were already regarding them curiously75 from those walls, Martin knew that he had saved the girl for a second time.
Also she knew it well, yet such was her emotion, such her agitation76 at recognising that she had escaped an awful fate, that she was powerless to express herself in words; but not too powerless to testify her gratitude77 by her looks and by the touch which she laid upon his hand. A touch which he understood and answered also by a glance, and by the muttered words, "Thank God!"
A moment later the wicket in the great iron-barred and studded gate opened, and a soldier came out and stood regarding them; then called down the slope:
"Who are you and what do you seek?"
"Shelter and refuge," Martin answered back, his voice clear and distinct in the morning air. "This lady is his Excellency's daughter."
"His Excellency's daughter!" the man repeated, his whole tone one of astonishment78. "His Excellency's daughter, and travelling thus on such a sorry beast!"
"And travelling thus. Fortunate, indeed, to be travelling at all," while, as he spoke, he extended his hands and caught Urbaine as she swerved79 on the mule's back and fell fainting into his arms.
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1
thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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2
luring
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| 吸引，引诱（lure的现在分词形式） | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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8
slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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gourds
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| n.葫芦( gourd的名词复数 ) | |
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ripening
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| v.成熟，使熟( ripen的现在分词 )；熟化；熟成 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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profusion
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| n.挥霍；丰富 | |
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illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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15
devastating
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| adj.毁灭性的，令人震惊的，强有力的 | |
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calf
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| n.小牛，犊，幼仔，小牛皮 | |
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fowls
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| 鸟( fowl的名词复数 )； 禽肉； 既不是这； 非驴非马 | |
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captivity
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| n.囚禁；被俘；束缚 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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prostration
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| n. 平伏, 跪倒, 疲劳 | |
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scythes
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| n.（长柄）大镰刀( scythe的名词复数 )v.（长柄）大镰刀( scythe的第三人称单数 ) | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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chateau
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| n.城堡，别墅 | |
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fortress
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| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
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gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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beseech
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| v.祈求，恳求 | |
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jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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35
fortifying
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| 筑防御工事于( fortify的现在分词 )； 筑堡于； 增强； 强化（食品） | |
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besieged
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| 包围，围困，围攻( besiege的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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infantry
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| n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
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fanatics
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| 狂热者，入迷者( fanatic的名词复数 ) | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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bouquet
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| n.花束，酒香 | |
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43
luscious
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| adj.美味的；芬芳的；肉感的，引与性欲的 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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45
execrate
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| v.憎恶；厌恶；诅咒 | |
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soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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pillage
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| v.抢劫；掠夺；n.抢劫，掠夺；掠夺物 | |
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retaliation
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| n.报复，反击 | |
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49
hymn
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌 | |
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hymns
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌( hymn的名词复数 ) | |
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51
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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52
ordained
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| v.任命（某人）为牧师( ordain的过去式和过去分词 )；授予（某人）圣职；（上帝、法律等）命令；判定 | |
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53
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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54
knoll
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| n.小山，小丘 | |
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55
ridges
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| n.脊( ridge的名词复数 )；山脊；脊状突起；大气层的)高压脊 | |
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56
starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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57
primrose
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| n.樱草，最佳部分， | |
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58
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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59
suffusing
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| v.（指颜色、水气等）弥漫于，布满( suffuse的现在分词 ) | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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62
palls
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| n.柩衣( pall的名词复数 )；墓衣；棺罩；深色或厚重的覆盖物v.（因过多或过久而）生厌，感到乏味，厌烦( pall的第三人称单数 ) | |
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63
shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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64
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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65
garrisoned
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| 卫戍部队守备( garrison的过去式和过去分词 )； 派部队驻防 | |
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66
mule
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| n.骡子，杂种，执拗的人 | |
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67
foes
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| 敌人，仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
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68
toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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69
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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70
gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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71
receding
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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72
genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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73
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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74
cumbersome
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| adj.笨重的，不便携带的 | |
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75
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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76
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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77
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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78
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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79
swerved
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| v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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