Dimly I saw Mademoiselle come out again into the road and mount a horse that had been provided for her. Fronsac and I were unbound, though not entrusted with our horses’ bridles, and we set forward at a more leisurely pace than had marked the first stage of the journey. Plainly there was no longer immediate fear of pursuit, and our guard relaxed somewhat, breaking now and again into a snatch of song or shouting a rude joke back and forth. I saw that our retreat was being made on some well-matured plan, and my heart sank as I realized how remote was chance of rescue.

The man at my right, who seemed to regard me with some small trace of kindness, perceiving my blue nose and chattering teeth, gave me his cloak, and this wrapped around me rendered the journey somewhat less of torture. But nothing could drive away the chill which had settled about my heart when I had looked into Claire’s eyes and caught no answering gleam of friendship and interest in them. I did not see her again, for she kept to the rear of the column with the other women, and I held my face turned resolutely to the front, for even a cadet of Gascony has his pride.

Night found us near Drovet, as I gathered from the talk of my guards, for the country was quite unknown to me, but we left that squalid village far on the right and pressed on through the darkness for an hour longer. It seemed to me, from the uneven nature of the ground, that we must have left the road, and I was about to ask whither we were bound, when the command came to halt.

I could distinguish absolutely nothing in the darkness, but my guards appeared to know the place well, and one of them, dismounting, led my horse slowly forward across what seemed to be a bridge. I caught a gleam of light ahead, and in a moment we turned a corner and I could see something of my surroundings.

We were in the inner bailey of a castle, once of no little strength, but fallen quite into decay, for the curtains were cracked and ragged and broken, and two of the corner towers had toppled over. The donjon loomed up into the darkness at one end, and alone seemed to have defied the hand of time and the despoiler.

Towards this we rode, and at the door my captors leaped from the saddle and helped me to dismount. I should have fallen had they not supported me, for my joints had lost the power of motion. They led me to a corner where a fire had just been started, and set me with my back against the wall.

In a moment I saw them leading Fronsac in, and they set him down opposite me, one of the men taking the precaution to stand guard between. Presently the women passed, and I saw Mademoiselle smile at my companion—a smile which brought the glad blood to his cheek and in which there was life and hope. The others did not even glance in our direction, though I watched them till they had disappeared into an inner room.

But a woman’s coldness could not rob me of the grateful warmth of the fire. How good it felt! My clothing was soon steaming in the heat, and I struggled to my feet and turned slowly about before the blaze in order to dry myself more thoroughly. I felt better with every minute, save for a great and growing emptiness within, for I had eaten nothing since my hasty breakfast with Fronsac at Montauban.

It was perhaps half an hour before one of the men came back to us and ordered us to follow him. He led the way to the right through a doorway into a lofty room, which, shattered and time-stained as it was, retained still some traces of its former beauty. At one end was the great fireplace, and in this a fire had been kindled and two men were busily engaged preparing food. A lamb had been bought or stolen somewhere, stripped deftly of its hide, dismembered, and set to roast before the fire, and most savory and inviting did it smell. A pile of bread, nearer black than white, was heaped upon a table, and to this we were led and told to take what we wanted. A dripping piece of meat was added, and we sat down again in our warm corners to enjoy it. Even now it makes my mouth run to think of that meal and how good it tasted.

I could see that Fronsac relished it too, though the blood in his cheek may have come from happiness. The guard still watched between us to prevent our talking, while the others sat before the fire, crunching their bread and meat. A sorry-looking lot they were, gathered, doubtless, from the banditti who infested the mountains—Spaniards most of them, swarthy and dirty, with countenances where one might search in vain for a trace of kindliness. Yet sitting there I caught a glimpse of the joy they got from life—a hard day’s march or stirring fight, and then, after it, a snug seat close before a good fire, with bread and meat, and, oh! such hunger to relish it!

The women I saw nothing of, and I thanked fortune that they had a place apart in which to pass the night. But it was evidently here that we were to sleep, for some of the men had already rolled themselves in their cloaks and lay down against the wall, a saddle for pillow, prepared to spend the night with what comfort they could. Not one of them, except the guard between us, seemed to give us the slightest heed, and for the first time since I had awakened with the water of the river in my ears the thought of escape came to me. With only one man to deal with, it would not be a difficult thing, provided he could be silenced without awaking any of the others. At least, it was worth thinking over. I got slowly to my feet, stretched my arms, and yawned. Then I took a step towards the door, but the sentry stopped me.

“You will remain here, Monsieur,” he said.

“But I am weary,” I protested. “Where am I to spend the night?”

He grinned and pointed back at the corner.

“You will spend it there,” he said. “But here comes Drouet, whose business it is to look after you.”

As he spoke the fellow who had ridden at my right all evening entered, and with him another whom I remembered having seen with Fronsac. They came direct to us, spread their cloaks before the fire, and Drouet motioned me to seat myself on his.

“As I am responsible for your continuance with us, Monsieur,” he said, sitting down beside me, “we must take a few precautions.”

“Very well,” I said. “Do whatever you think needful.”

Without more words he produced some pieces of rope. With one of these he bound my right ankle to his left one, and then the guard came forward and bound our wrists together.

“I think that will do,” he said. “I advise you not to endeavor to get them loose, Monsieur, for I sleep lightly. Besides, M. le Duc cautioned me not to hesitate to kill you should you attempt escape.”

“I shall attempt to do nothing but go to sleep,” I answered, yawning, and we lay down together.

I saw that Fronsac watched all this keenly, and I knew that he too was thinking of flight. His guard sat down beside him, as mine had done.

“There are two courses open to you, Monsieur,” he said. “Either give me your word of honor not to attempt to get away, or submit to the programme that has been carried out with your friend yonder. I must tie your hands and feet.”

“But,” Fronsac protested, “they have not tied the hands and feet of my friend.”

The fellow stepped over and looked down to see how I was secured.

“No,” he said, “but I am not a light sleeper, like Drouet there. I can’t afford to take that chance. Come, Monsieur, choose.”

For answer Fronsac held out his hands, and in a moment they were lashed together. Another rope was bound tightly about his ankles.

“There,” grunted the fellow, as he secured the last knot. “Now, Monsieur, you may try to leave us if you wish. Only I warn you there are some sentries about who will not hesitate to fire,” and rolling himself in his cloak, he was snoring in a moment.

Despite my fatigue, sleep did not come readily to my eyes. My brain was busy with thoughts of escape. I realized that once within Roquefort’s stronghold at Marleon I should not find it easy to come out again, and I had no desire for that introduction to the rack which he had promised me. But to escape was no easy thing. I lay for long trying to devise some plan which offered at least a prospect of success. I might reach out with my free hand, grasp Drouet by the throat, and hold him so until he ceased to breathe. But I realized that, with one hand, it was most unlikely I could master so powerful a man, to say nothing of the noise such an encounter must create. A sudden blow was impossible for like reason. I tried softly to remove my hand from the knot which held it, but found that, too, impossible. I tried to reach the knot with my free hand, but Drouet stirred uneasily, and I lay still again. By the fading light of the fire I could dimly see Fronsac struggling to free himself, but with no more success than I. A sentry’s step sounded at the door and a shadowy figure appeared there for a moment, looking over the room to see that all was well. Then he disappeared into the outer darkness, and for a time I watched the shadows dancing along the walls and over the ceiling. Gradually they grew faint and fainter, and fatigue weighed down my eyelids.

How long I slept I do not know, but I opened my eyes with a start and looked about the room. The fire had burned so low on the hearth that the place was almost in utter darkness, save for an instant, now and then, as a log fell asunder and sent a shower of sparks into the air. It was during one of these flashes that I fancied I saw a figure moving far down the room, but the light died away before I could make sure. I rubbed my eyes, braced my head against the wall, and waited. Yes, there it was again—this time there could be no mistaking—a cloaked figure bending over one man and then passing on to the next. What could it mean?

My bonds fell from me

The light died out again, but in a moment I saw the figure once more, this time much nearer, and coming slowly down the line of sleeping men towards the corner where I lay. Nearer and nearer it came, until I felt a pair of eyes looking down into mine.

“M. de Marsan,” breathed a voice, “you are awake? Close your eyes to show me that you hear.”

I closed my eyes an instant, the blood rushing to my temples, my nerves a-quiver. I could not mistake that voice—no, not even its whisper!

“Can you get up?” asked the voice.

I shook my head and pointed with my free hand to my bound wrist and ankle.

In an instant the figure had dropped to its knees beside me. I felt swift fingers lightly examining the ropes, I caught the gleam of a knife, and my bonds fell from me.

“Now, follow me, Monsieur,” whispered the voice.

For the moment I forgot everything but the joy of being with her—the joy of holding her hand again and whispering in her ear. I got cautiously to my knees, to my feet, and stole down the room after her. A shower of ashes threw the place into sudden light and sent my heart into my throat, but none of the sleepers stirred. She paused in the shadow of the farthest corner until I had reached her side.

“There, M. de Marsan,” she whispered, “is a door through which, I think, you may escape. You see I am not ungrateful.”

“Ungrateful!” I repeated, hoarsely, and caught her hand.

“You must go, Monsieur,” she protested. “Even a moment’s loitering here may mean recapture.”

“But I am going to risk that moment. Mademoiselle,” I said. “You see that my words have proved true and that we have met again; only, this afternoon, I thought you had forgot me.”

“Oh, no, M. de Marsan,” she breathed, “I had not forgot you, nor am I like to do so. Only I knew I could not help you did any one suspect me for your friend. But you must go—hasten!”

“And you?” I asked.

“Oh, I—I will return to the apartment where my maid and Mademoiselle de Cadillac are sleeping,” and she made a little motion towards another door, almost hidden in the shadow.

There was a step at the door, and we saw the sentry enter and pause to glance about the room. For an instant I was certain he had seen us, so intently did he look towards the corner where we were, but at last he passed on again.

I felt that the hand I held close in mine was trembling.

“You see the folly of delay, Monsieur,” she panted. “You must go,—they must not retake you,—better to die fighting than to wait for death at Marleon! Ah, you do not know!” and she drew her hand from mine and pressed it for a moment to her eyes. How fair, how sweet she was! How I trembled to take her in my arms! “Adieu, Monsieur. My prayers go with you.”

“And only your prayers, Mademoiselle?” I whispered, my heart on fire.

“Go, go!” she repeated, and held out her hand.

I caught it in both of mine and pressed it to my lips.

“Again I say, Mademoiselle, that this is not the last time,” and I held tightly to the hand, which she would have drawn away. “I understand nothing of how you came to be awaiting us at the inn back yonder, but I know that it is fate which has thrown us together twice already. The third time we shall not part so quickly.”

And again she shook her head as she had in the Rue Gogard.

“I have not your confidence in fate, Monsieur,” she said. “Believe me, you must go. If you will not consider your own peril, think of mine.”

True, I was a fool to have forgot it.

“Pardon,” I said. “Forgive me for thinking only of myself.”

I pressed my lips again to her soft, warm palm, and, not trusting myself to look at her, turned towards the door she had pointed out to me.

And then, in an instant, I remembered! I had not myself alone to consider—there were Mademoiselle and Fronsac who must be freed also! I could not leave them in this den of wolves—what a coward they would think me!

I turned back. None of the sleepers had stirred, nor seemed like to stir. Claire had disappeared into the inner room. I groped my way slowly across the floor. I could see Fronsac sitting against the wall. How his eyes brightened at sight of me coming back! He held his bound wrists towards me eagerly.

“I thought you gone,” he whispered. “I was a fool! I might have known you would come back!”

His eyes were dark and moist with emotion—his voice trembled. What a thing it is to have a friend!

And then, of a sudden, there came the beat of horses’ hoofs without, a sharp challenge; Drouet, awakened, rubbed his eyes sleepily, saw the severed cords, and leaped to his feet with a yell. I tried to rise to meet him, but he saw me on the instant, and with a bound like a panther’s was upon me.