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class="calibre1">A MAID IN THE MOONLIGHT

 

I do not know whether it was the influence of that thing lying in

a corner of the barn under the cloak that Rodenard had flung over

it, or whether other influences of destiny were at work to impel me

to rise at the end of a half-hour and announce my determination to

set out on horseback and find myself quarters more congenial.

 

“Tomorrow,” I instructed Ganymede, as I stood ready to mount, “you

will retrace your steps with the others, and, finding the road to

Lavedan, you will follow me to the chateau.”

 

“But you cannot hope to reach it to-night, monseigneur, through a

country that is unknown to you,” he protested.

 

“I do not hope to reach it to-night. I will ride south until I come

upon some hamlet that will afford me shelter and, in the morning,

direction.”

 

I left him with that, and set out at a brisk trot. Night had now

fallen, but the sky was clear, and a crescent moon came opportunely

if feebly to dispel the gloom.

 

I quitted the field, and went back until I gained a crossroad, where,

turning to the right, I set my face to the Pyrenees, and rode briskly

amain. That I had chosen wisely was proved when some twenty minutes

later. I clattered into the hamlet of Mirepoix, and drew up before

an inn flaunting the sign of a peacock - as if in irony of its

humbleness, for it was no better than a wayside tavern. Neither

stableboy nor ostler was here, and the unclean, overgrown urchin

to whom I entrusted my horse could not say whether indeed Pere Abdon

the landlord would be able to find me a room to sleep in. I

thirsted, however; and so I determined to alight, if it were only to

drink a can of wine and obtain information of my whereabouts.

 

As I was entering the hostelry there was a clatter of hoofs in the

street, and four dragoons headed by a sergeant rode up and halted at

the door of the Paon. They seemed to have ridden hard and some

distance, for their horses were jaded almost to the last point of

endurance.

 

Within, I called the host, and having obtained a flagon of the best

vintage - Heaven fortify those that must be content with his worst!

—I passed on to make inquiries touching my whereabouts and the way

to Lavedan. This I learnt was but some three or four miles distant.

About the other table - there were but two within the room - stood

the dragoons in a whispered consultation, of which it had been well

had I taken heed, for it concerned me more closely than I could have

dreamt.

 

“He answers the description,” said the sergeant, and though I heard

the words I took no thought that it was of me they spoke.

 

“Padrieu,” swore one of his companions, “I’ll wager it is our man.”

 

And then, just as I was noticing that Master Abdon, who had also

overheard the conversation, was eyeing me curiously, the sergeant

stepped up to me, and—

 

“What is your name, monsieur?” quoth he.

 

I vouchsafed him a stare of surprise before asking in my turn “How

may that concern you?”

 

“Your pardon, my master, but we are on the King’s business.”

 

I remembered then that he had said I answered some description.

With that it flashed through my mind that they had been sent after

me by His Majesty to enforce my obedience to his wishes and to

hinder me from reaching Lavedan. At once came the dominant desire

to conceal my identity that I might go unhindered. The first

name that occurred to me was that of the poor wretch I had left

in the barn half an hour ago, and so—

 

“I am,” said I, “Monsieur de Lesperon, at your service.”

 

Too late I saw the mistake that I had made. I own it was a blunder

that no man of ordinary intelligence should have permitted himself

to have committed. Remembering the unrest of the province, I

should rather have concluded that their business was more like to

be in that connection.

 

“He is bold, at least,” cried one of the troopers, with a burst of

laughter. Then came the sergeant’s voice, cold and formal, “In the

King’s name, Monsieur de Lesperon, I arrest you.”

 

He had whipped out his sword, and the point was within an inch of

my breast. But his arm, I observed, was stretched to its fullest

extent, which forbade his making a sudden thrust. To hamper him in

the lunge there was the table between us.

 

So, my mind working quickly in this desperate situation, and

realizing how dire and urgent the need to attempt an escape, I

leapt suddenly back to find myself in the arms of his followers.

But in moving I had caught up by one of its legs the stool on which

I had been sitting. As I raised it, I eluded the pinioning grip

of the troopers. I twisted in their grasp, and brought the stool

down upon the head of one of them with a force that drove him to

his knees. Up went that three-legged stool again, to descend like

a thunderbolt upon the head of another. That freed me. The

sergeant was coming up behind, but another flourish of my improvised

battle-axe sent the two remaining soldiers apart to look to their

swords. Ere they could draw, I had darted like a hare between them

and out into the street. The sergeant, cursing them with horrid

volubility, followed closely upon my heels.

 

Leaping as far into the roadway as I could, I turned to meet the

fellow’s onslaught. Using the stool as a buckler, I caught his

thrust upon it. So violently was it delivered that the point

buried itself in the wood and the blade snapped, leaving him a

hilt and a stump of steel. I wasted no time in thought. Charging

him wildly, I knocked him over just as the two unhurt dragoons

came stumbling out of the tavern.

 

I gained my horse and vaulted into the saddle. Tearing the reins

from the urchin that held them, and driving my spurs into the beast’s

flanks, I went careering down the street at a gallop, gripping

tightly with my knees, whilst the stirrups, which I had had no time

to step into, flew wildly about my legs.

 

A pistol cracked behind me; then another, and a sharp, stinging pain

in the shoulder warned me that I was hit. But I took no heed of it

then. The wound could not be serious, else I had already been out

of the saddle, and it would be time enough to look to it when I had

outdistanced my pursuers. I say my pursuers, for already there

were hoofbeats behind me, and I knew that those gentlemen had taken

to their horses. But, as you may recall, I had on their arrival

noted the jaded condition of their cattle, whilst I bestrode a

horse that was comparatively fresh, so that pursuit had but small

terrors for me. Nevertheless, they held out longer, and gave me

more to do than I had imagined would be the case. For nigh upon a

half-hour I rode, before I could be said to have got clear of them,

and then for aught I knew they were still following, resolved to

hound me down by the aid of such information as they might cull

upon their way.

 

I was come by then to the Garonne. I drew rein beside the swiftly

flowing stream, winding itself like a flood of glittering silver

between the black shadows of its banks. A little while I sat there

listening, and surveying the stately, turreted chateau that loomed,

a grey, noble pile, beyond the water. I speculated what demesne

this might be, and I realized that it was probably Lavedan.

 

I pondered what I had best do, and in the end I took the resolve to

swim the river and knock at the gates. If it were indeed Lavedan,

I had but to announce myself, and to one of my name surely its

hospitalities would be spread. If it were some other household,

even then the name of Marcel de Bardelys should suffice to ensure

me a welcome.

 

By spurring and coaxing, I lured my steed into the river. There is

a proverb having it that though you may lead a horse to the water

you cannot make him drink. It would have now applied to my case,

for although I had brought mine to the water I could not make him

swim; or, at least, I could not make him breast the rush of the

stream. Vainly did I urge him and try to hold him; he plunged

frantically, snorted, coughed, and struggled gamely, but the current

was bearing us swiftly away, and his efforts brought us no nearer

to the opposite shore. At last I slipped from his back, and set

myself to swim beside him, leading him by the bridle. But even

thus he proved unequal to the task of resisting the current, so that

in the end I let him go, and swam ashore alone, hoping that he would

land farther down, and that I might then recapture him. When,

however, I had reached the opposite bank, and stood under the shadow

of the chateau, I discovered that the cowardly beast had turned back,

and, having scrambled out, was now trotting away along the path by

which we had come. Having no mind to go after him, I resigned myself

to the loss, and turned my attention to the mansion now before me.

 

Some two hundred yards from the river it raised its great square

bulk against the background of black, star-flecked sky. From the

facade before me down to the spot where I stood by the water, came

a flight of half a dozen terraces, each balustraded in white marble,

ending in square, flat-topped pillars of Florentine design. What

moon there was revealed the quaint architecture of that stately

edifice and glittered upon the mullioned windows. But within nothing

stirred; no yellow glimmer came to clash with the white purity of

the moonlight; no sound of man or beast broke the stillness of the

night, for all that the hour was early. The air of the place was

as that of some gigantic sepulchre. A little daunted by this

all-enveloping stillness, I skirted the terraces and approached

the house on the eastern side. Here I found an old-world drawbridge

—now naturally in disuse - spanning a ditch fed from the main

river for the erstwhile purposes of a moat. I crossed the bridge,

and entered an imposing courtyard. Within this quadrangle the same

silence dwelt, and there was the same obscurity in the windows that

overlooked it. I paused, at a loss how to proceed, and I leaned

against a buttress of the portcullis, what time I considered.

 

I was weak from fasting, worn with hard riding, and faint from the

wound in my shoulder, which had been the cause at least of my

losing some blood. In addition to all this, I was shivering with

the cold of my wet garments, and generally I must have looked as

little like that Bardelys they called the Magnificent as you might

well conceive. How, then, if I were to knock, should I prevail in

persuading these people - whoever they might be - of my identity?

Infinitely more had I the air of some fugitive rebel, and it was

more than probable that I should be kept in durance to be handed

over to my friends the dragoons, if later they came to ride that

way. I

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