The Lady of the Mount - BestLightNovel.com
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Crossing the threshold, defined by a faint glimmer from a distant corner, he made his way past several motionless forms, into a low pa.s.sage beyond. Here he called out impatiently; but from those depths, leading down into the dungeons where his comrades had gone, no answer was returned. His voice, hollow, mocking, seemed stifled in a tomb; more loudly he shouted; walked farther in, when an indistinct response was followed by a pin-point of light, and, ere long, by the bearer of a little lamp, Sanchez.
"The others?" At the head of a dark stairway into which he would inadvertently have plunged, had he gone farther, the Black Seigneur confronted the man, as he approached.
"They will soon be here," said the old servant, springing up the steps and walking after his master, who had already turned back toward the guard-room. "Jacques--curse him!"--putting out his light in obedience to a gesture from the other--"fumbled with the keys; pretended he couldn't find the right ones! So it took longer to open the doors."
"The prisoners?"
"I left our men working at the last dungeon to come on ahead--to let you know you might soon expect them."
"Soon," ironically, "may be too late."
"You mean--?"
"The hue and cry is out! I have long been expecting it; I do not understand why it didn't come before; unless a mountebank, locked up, was considered safe enough for the night--"
"Then some one knew--?"
"Some one?" A bitter laugh was quickly suppressed on the young man's lips. "Hark! Listen!"
"Sounds below! the soldiers!" exclaimed Sanchez, and started toward the window to look out, only to fall quickly back.
"What is it?" With his hand on the other's shoulder, the Black Seigneur whispered the question.
"A face! At the window!"
"So soon? The hounds are quicker than I thought! Or," drawing his sword, "it may be only one or two in advance. In that case--"
But no enemy, single or plural, met their view, either in front, or at the side of the guard-house; only the darkness, void, empty, and the bare rampart wall winding around the head of the Mount like a monster guardian dragon, asleep at his post.
"Here is no one!"
"No one! Yet am I sure I saw--"
"A shadow!" answered the other. "And we have nothing worse to fight!"
"Some one was there, Seigneur," stubbornly, "and fled!"
"_Eh bien_! He's gone!"
"He? It looked like a--"
"Back with you, quick! Is this a time for talk? Call those who can come--if they would save their necks!"
"Here they are now," exclaimed the servant, and, as he spoke, the first of their men, blowing out the light he carried, ran quickly across the guard-chamber and into the open air. Others hastily followed, until the gathering, swelled by those brought with them from the dungeons, stood expectantly before the little stone structure.
"All the prisoners are here?"
"All!"
"To the wheel-house, then!"
But as they hastened across the square and into the narrow way, the Black Seigneur again spoke to the man just ahead:
"The hunchback?"
"We left him below, locked up in the Devil's Cage!"
"The Devil's Cage! _Quelle bonne plaisanterie_! Although," looking back, "it may cost us dear!"
And indeed, behind the sound of pursuit came nearer; the clatter of soldiers' feet grew louder, until, reaching the little square and the guard-house, all tumult suddenly ceased. A momentary silence, strange, ominous, was broken by a din of voices, as the flaring here and there of torches threw grotesque reflections high against the grim background of black masonry.
To those now within the wheel-room, the cause of that abrupt clamor was not difficult to divine; his Excellency's soldiers had found the sentinels overpowered in the guard-house! Would the former stop to investigate; search first those subterranean pa.s.sages? Already had the prisoners, the weaker of the Black Seigneur's men, filled the car, or hung clinging to the rope above; already was the wheel turning--almost before the key had turned in the lock at the entrance.
"Seigneur!"
"Sanchez?"
"When we left the wheel-room, we closed the door."
"When we got back, it--"
A footfall without interrupted, followed by the sound of a hand at the door, and other steps drawing near.
"Jacques!" An expectant voice spoke; waited; called louder. Then those outside listened; some one exclaimed, and hurried footsteps retreated toward the guard-house.
As they died away, in the wheel-room the car came up for the second time empty, and inquiringly the men there looked from one to the other; but, even in that moment of danger, not one of them moved, or made sign of impatience. Some must go; others remain, and stoically they awaited the word of their leader.
"Down with all of you! I'll let you out the line," taking a turn with the rope around a stanchion near the wall, "and then come down myself."
The command was unexpected; for the first time those that had never questioned their leader's authority, hesitated, and more sharply was the order repeated; whereupon they obeyed; all save one.
"I'll let it out myself," said Sanchez.
"Get in!"
"No!" was the obdurate reply, when the Black Seigneur made a sign; hands reached up, seized Sanchez, and a moment later the car started down. The line strained; as it played out, now running free about the stanchion, then stopping with jerks, the man in the wheel-house almost looked to see it part. The hempen strand, however, proved sound; held its human freight; but another danger pressed near.
Scarcely had the car begun its downward journey than an attack, indications of whose approach had not been wanting, manifested itself without. Beneath a sudden, savage a.s.sault, the door shook; yet engrossed at the line, every muscle strained, the man at the stanchion heeded not. Swiftly, mechanically he worked, apparently as unconscious of the clamorous soldiers without as of a silent presence within--some one that had been concealed in the little store-room adjoining, opening into the wheel-house, and now peered out; but at once drew back, as, with a crash, the door fell in.
At first, in the comparative darkness, with only the sky at the aperture staring them in the face, the in-rus.h.i.+ng black figures paused, uncertain; lights soon were pushed forward, however, and then could they see the great wheel going round, unwinding the rope; the man at the stanchion.
"The prisoners! He's letting them down."
"Cut the line!"
Some one with a knife rushed forward, severed the strand; but at that moment the car touched the bottom. Then did the solitary man at the rope for the first time awaken to his own situation; with a backward sweep of the arm he struck so fiercely the foremost of those to rush at him that the fellow fell, hitting hard the stone floor. Those nearest stumbled, and drawing his sword, with a thrust of point or blow of hilt, the Black Seigneur, for a moment withstood the first confused on-coming; then extricated himself and leaped to the narrow s.p.a.ce behind the wheel. Here was he protected behind by the wall; at one end, by the masonry jutting out, while, at the other, only one or two could attack at the same time. But in front, through the spokes of the broad wheel, they might well hope to reach him.
At once the soldiers sprang forward, when, seizing the wheel, the man behind, with a savage jerk, set it in motion. The swords thrust at him were turned aside, one or two of his a.s.sailants were caught in the ponderous mechanism, and, before those attacking him had recovered from their surprise, the blade of the Black Seigneur shot in and out; to the right, to the left. Those ahead fell back upon their comrades; two, however, were unable to withdraw, and sank to the ground before the wheel. A third, with his hand to his throat and making strange sounds, staggered back to the wall.