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Momentarily disconcerted, the others hesitated. "In the fiend's name, fear ye one man?" shouted an authoritative voice.
"A devil!"
"'Tis the Black Seigneur! I had a good sight of him."
"Beat! beat!
'Mid marsh-muck and mire--"
came in mocking tones from behind the wheel.
"The mountebank!"
"_Sacre tonnerre_! But mountebank, or outlaw, you shall pay! This way!" And at the unprotected side of the wheel the commandant sought to bring the issue to a conclusion. One blade the Black Seigneur struck down, while his own weapon retorted with more effect, though as it did so, another soldier made a lunge, and his sword entered the shoulder of the man behind the wheel. A shout of triumph that fell from the lips of the Governor's trooper was, however, abruptly checked; lurching forward with the stroke, ere he could recover, something heavy--a bra.s.s hilt--beat like a hammer on his head and he dropped to his knees. The others pressed closer; but with the desperation of a man resolved to sell his life dearly, the Black Seigneur fought on; regardless of cut and thrust, was holding the narrow entrance, when from the rear, somewhere, came the report of a firearm.
"Back! Stand back!"
Those nearest the wheel, not unwilling, perhaps, to desist, drew away; other detonations followed and smoke filled the place, obscuring the gaze. In the yellow fog they waited; until first it was swept aside close to the opposite wall by a draft of air from the aperture of the adjoining store-room, and the commandant, in an effort to see, moved impatiently forward. Ere, however, he could reach the wheel, near the threshold of the store-room, he felt his arm suddenly seized.
"Look, listen!"
The warning cry--a girl's voice--rang through the wheel-room; but the commandant did not at once heed it; at that abrupt touch he had involuntarily wrested his arm away; he stared, not in the direction she who had called out pointed, but at her! The white, drawn face, the eyes dilated--
"You, my Lady! Here?" he stammered. But she only made a wild movement; again grasped, drew him forward.
"Quick, or--" And suddenly was he brought to a realization of what she wished him to see: a figure drawing itself along, slowly, painfully, toward the verge--
"Don't you see? Rather than be taken, he's going to throw himself over!"
The excited, admonis.h.i.+ng sound of her voice aroused the commandant. He gave a sharp order and the soldiers sprang forward; laid roughly hold of the prostrate form; drew it back. The Black Seigneur yet struggled, but not for long! A moment, and his eyes turned to the Governor's daughter.
"_Ma foi_! I must needs yield--to your Ladys.h.i.+p! Yet, what matter, since I have done what I came to do!"
His gaze, darkly glowing, seemed to envelope the shrinking figure whose cloak only partly concealed the gay, rich gown beneath; lifted to the brilliant affrighted brown eyes. "Your Ladys.h.i.+p has bright eyes, forsooth!" An ironical laugh burst from his lips. "But sharper than their swords!" He strove to speak further, when a hand holding a weapon fell heavily. At that a cry escaped the girl's lips.
"No, no; you shall not!"
The Black Seigneur lay still.
"_Ciel_! It's fortunate we got him," ruefully the commandant gazed around. "It would have made a pretty tale, if--" he turned to the Governor's daughter, "I have your Ladys.h.i.+p to thank--" he began, and stopped.
My lady's figure had at that moment relaxed and fallen to the ground!
CHAPTER XXIV
THE HALL OF THE CHEVALIERS
The report of the capture of the Black Seigneur spread from Mount to town; from rock to sh.o.r.e. Pilgrims repeated, peasants circulated it; many credited; a few disbelieved. Like shadows had his comrades and the escaped prisoners vanished, leaving no trace, save one--an over-turned car and severed rope at the foot of the _poulain_, without the fortifications. And flocking to that point, of greater interest now than shrine or sanctuary, the pilgrims gazed around; down the rocks; up the almost perpendicular planking to what looked like a mere pigeon-hole in the side of the cliff. Then ominous grumblings escaped them; some shook their fists at the black wall; others scoffed at distant sounds of priestly hallelujahs. Had the soldiers that day appeared in the town or on the beach, serious trouble would have ensued. For the time, however, they remained discreetly housed, while supplies for pilgrims' needs were, by the commandant's orders, so curtailed, many of the indigent mult.i.tude, urged by pinched stomachs, began, ere night, to wend their way from strand to sh.o.r.e. But as they left the vicinity of the Mount, they turned last looks of hatred toward the rock.
His Excellency, the Governor, wasted no time considering the humor of the ma.s.ses; their resentment, or displeasure, signified nothing; his own complacency left little room for speculation on that score. He was undeniably satisfied; even the escape of the prisoners and the loss of the soldiers at the guard-house, or in the wheel-room, was overshadowed by the single capture. This contentment, however, he kept to himself; instigated a rigorous inquiry, and prepared to punish certain offenders. But the princ.i.p.al of these he could not reach; when released from the iron cage, the hunchback, knowing he would be called upon to answer for his part in the night's work, had made the best use of his short legs to place a long distance between himself and the Mount.
The sentinel that allowed the Black Seigneur to pa.s.s through the entrance near the barracks; the watchman encountered on the stairway, and the soldier that had been overpowered in the stable, his Excellency could, however, lay hands on, and promptly ordered into custody to await his official attention. For this last culprit, the commandant--mindful, perhaps, of bolstering his own position--interceded; pointing out that the man had to get the gag from his mouth and give the alarm; also, that the mountebank's appearance and acting had been calculated to deceive even one of the Governor's discernment. Which remark his Excellency had received with sphinx-like, and not altogether rea.s.suring, gravity; had reserved his verdict, and continued, after his own fas.h.i.+on, to collect the details of the affair.
This searching process should have led him almost at once to his daughter--a puzzling figure in the maze of events; but the Governor exhibited no haste in approaching that important witness. Only when he had marshaled his other testimony and put it in order did the scope of his sifting extend to the girl. And then had his manner been strictly judicial: maintaining an imperturbable mask, he professed not to notice the pallor of her face, the unnatural brightness of her glance.
"When you sent for the mountebank to come to your apartments, did you know who he was?" the Governor had asked.
"No."
"When did you find out?"
"When you entered the room."
"Why did you not give the alarm then?"
"Because," she hesitated; her face changed, "he would have killed you, I think--if I had!"
"Was that solicitude for me the only reason?"
"Why, what other could there be?"
"What other truly? And after he left with the commandant--why did you not, then, inform me?"
"You remember you had something important, from the King, to consider!"
hastily.
"More important than this?"
"He was going to be locked up," was the best reply she could make.
"And in the morning set free!"
She did not answer.
"And yet, you gave the word that enabled us to capture him at the wheel-house! How, by the way, came you there--in the wheel-house?"
"I saw him from the abbot's bridge; heard him tell the watchman he had a message to deliver at your palace, and followed."
"Again feeling solicitude for me?"
"I did not know--he would dare much; and what does it matter now?"
almost wildly. "You have captured him, shut him up somewhere in some terrible, deep dungeon, where--"
"He is safe? True; that is the main consideration."
Thereafter had the subject of the Black Seigneur been dropped between them; the pilgrimage over, the Mount resumed its normal aspect, but only for a little while! One day about a week later, a bright cortege whose appearance was in marked contrast to that of the beggarly mult.i.tude, late visitors to the rock, came riding down the road through the forest to the sea; at the verge of the sands, stopped for a first distant impression of the rock.