CHAPTER XVI. VALLOMBREUSE
Isabelle sat for a long time perfectly motionless in her luxuriouschamber, sunk in a sad reverie, apparently entirely oblivious of theglow of light, warmth, and comfort that closed her in--glancing upoccasionally at the portrait over the chimney-piece, which seemed to besmiling down upon her and promising her protection and peace, while itmore than ever reminded her of some dear face she had known and lovedlong ago. After a time, however, her mood changed. She grew restless,and rising, began to wander aimlessly about the room; but her uneasinessonly increased, and finally, in desperation, she resolved to venture outinto the corridor and look about her, no matter at what risk. Anythingwould be better than this enforced inactivity and suspense. She triedthe door with a trembling hand, dreading to find herself locked in, butit was not fastened, and seeing that all was dark outside, she took upa small lamp, that had been left burning on a side table, and boldlysetting forth, went softly down the long flight of stairs, in the hopeof finding some means of exit from the chateau on the lower floor. Atthe foot of the stairs she came to a large double door, one leaf ofwhich yielded easily when she timidly tried to open it, but creakeddolefully as it turned on its hinges. She hesitated for a moment,fearing that the noise would alarm the servants and bring them out tosee what was amiss; but no one came, and taking fresh courage, she movedon and passed into a lofty, vaulted hall, with high-backed, oaken benchesranged against the tapestry-covered walls, upon which hung several largetrophies of arms, and sundry swords, shields, and steel gauntlets, whichcaught and flashed back the light from her lamp as she held it up toexamine them. The air was heavy, chilly, and damp. An awful stillnessreigned in this deserted hall. Isabelle shivered as she crept slowlyalong, and nearly stumbled against a huge table, with massive carvedfeet, that stood in the centre of the tesselated marble pavement. Shewas making for a door, opposite the one by which she had entered; but,as she approached it, was horror-stricken when she perceived two tallmen, clad in armour, standing like sentinels, one on either side of it.She stopped short, then tried to turn and fly, but was so paralyzed withterror that she could not stir, expecting every instant that they wouldpounce upon her and take her prisoner, while she bitterly repented hertemerity in having ventured to leave her own room, and vainly wishedherself back by the quiet fireside there. Meanwhile the two dreadfigures stood as motionless as herself--the silence was unbroken, and"the beating of her own heart was the only sound she heard." So at lastshe plucked up courage to look more closely at the grim sentinels, andcould not help smiling at her own needless alarm, when she found thatthey were suits of armour, indeed, but without men inside of them--justsuch as one sees standing about in the ancient royal palaces of France.Passing them with a saucy glance of defiance, and a little triumphanttoss of the head, Isabelle entered a vast dining room, with tall,sculptured buffets, on which stood many superb vessels of gold andsilver, together with delicate specimens of exquisite Venetian andBohemian glass, and precious pieces of fine porcelain, fit for a king'stable. Large handsome chairs, with carved backs, were standing round thegreat dining-table, and the walls, above the heavy oaken wainscot, werehung with richly embossed Cordova leather, glowing with warm, brighttints and golden arabesques.
She did not linger to examine and admire all the beautified things dimlyrevealed to her by the feeble light of her small lamp, but hurried onto the third door, which opened into an apartment yet more spaciousand magnificent than the other two. At one end of it was a lordly dais,raised three steps above the inlaid floor, upon which stood a splendidgreat arm-chair, almost a throne, under a canopy emblazoned with abrilliant coat of arms and surmounted by a tuft of nodding plumes. Stillhurrying on, Isabelle next entered a sumptuous bed-chamber, and, as shepaused for an instant to hold up her lamp and look about her, fanciedthat she could hear the regular breathing of a sleeper in the immensebed, behind the crimson silk curtains which were closely drawn aroundit. She did not dare to stop and investigate the matter, but flew on herway, as lightly as any bird, and next found herself in a library, wherethe white busts surmounting the well-filled book-cases stared down ather with their hard, stony eyes, and made her shudder as she nervouslysought for an exit, without delaying one moment to glance at the greatvariety of curious and beautiful objects scattered lavishly about,which, under any ordinary circumstances, would have held her enthralled.
Running at right angles with the library, and opening out of it, wasthe picture gallery, where the family portraits were arranged inchronological order on one side, while opposite to them was a long rowof windows, looking into the court. The shutters were closed, but nearthe top of each one was a small circular opening, through which the moonshone and faintly lighted the dusky gallery, striking here and theredirectly upon the face of a portrait, with an indescribably weird andstartling effect. It required all of Isabelle's really heroic courage tokeep on past the long line of strange faces, looking down mockingly itseemed to her from their proud height upon her trembling form as sheglided swiftly by, and she was thankful to find, at the end of thegallery, a glass door opening out upon the court. It was not fastened,and after carefully placing her lamp in a sheltered corner, where nodraughts could reach it, she stepped out under the stars. It was arelief to find herself breathing freely in the fresh, pure air, thoughshe was actually no less a prisoner than before, and as she stoodlooking up into the clear evening sky, and thinking of her own truelover, she seemed to feel new courage and hope springing up in herheart.
In one corner of the court she saw a strong light shining out throughthe crevices in the shutters that closed several low windows, and heardsounds of revelry from the same direction--the only signs of life shehad detected about the whole place. Her curiosity was excited by them,and she stole softly over towards the quarter from whence they came,keeping carefully in the shadow of the wall, and glancing anxiouslyabout to make sure that no one was furtively watching her. Finding aconsiderable aperture in one of the wooden shutters she peeped throughit, and saw a party of men gathered around a table, eating and drinkingand making merry in a very noisy fashion. The light from a lamp withthree burners, which was suspended by a copper chain from the lowceiling, fell full upon them, and although she had only seen them maskedbefore, Isabelle instantly recognised those who had been concernedin her abduction. At the head of the table sat Malartic, whoseextraordinary face was paler and nose redder than ever, and at sightof whom the young girl shuddered and drew back. When she had recoveredherself a little, she looked in again upon the repulsive scene, and wassurprised to see, at the other end of the table, and somewhat apart fromthe others, Agostino, the brigand, who had now laid aside the longwhite beard in which he had played the part of the old blind beggarso successfully. A great deal of loud talking was going on, constantlyinterrupted by bursts of laughter, but Isabelle could not heardistinctly enough through the closed window to make out what they weresaying. Even if she had been actually in the room with them, she wouldhave found much of their conversation incomprehensible, as it waslargely made up of the extraordinary slang of the Paris street Arabsand rascals generally. From time to time one or the other of theparticipants in this orgy seemed to propose a toast, whereupon theywould all clink their glasses together before raising them to theirlips, drain them at a draught, and applaud vociferously, while there wasa constant drawing of corks and placing of fresh bottles on the tableby the servant who was waiting upon them. Just as Isabelle, thoroughlydisgusted with the brutality of the scene before her, was about to turnaway, Malartic rapped loudly on the table to obtain a hearing, and aftermaking a proposition, which met with ready and cordial assent, rosefrom his seat, cleared his throat, and began to sing, or rather shout,a ribald song, all the others joining in the chorus, with horriblegrimaces and gesticulations, which so frightened poor Isabelle that shecould scarcely find strength to creep away from the loathsome spectacle.
Before re-entering the house she went to look at the drawbridge, with afaint hope that she might chance upon some unexpected means
of escape,but all was secure there, and a little postern, opening on the moat,which she discovered near by, was also carefully fastened, with boltsand bars strong enough to keep out an army. As these seemed to be theonly means of exit from the chateau, she felt that she was a prisonerindeed, and understood why it had not been deemed necessary to lock anyof the inner doors against her. She walked slowly back to the gallery,entered it by the glass door, found her lamp burning tranquilly justwhere she had left it, retraced her steps swiftly through the long suiteof spacious apartments already described and flew up the grand staircaseto her own room, congratulating herself upon not having been detected inher wanderings. She put her lamp down in the antechamber, but paused interror on the threshold of the inner room, stifling a shriek thathad nearly escaped her as she caught sight of a strange, wild figurecrouching on the hearth. But her fears were short-lived, for with anexclamation of delight the intruder sprang towards her and she saw thatit was Chiquita--but Chiquita in boy's clothes.
"Have you got the knife yet?" said the strange little creature abruptlyto Isabelle--"the knife with three bonny red marks."
"Yes, Chiquita, I have it here in my bosom," she replied. "But why doyou ask? Is my life in danger?"
"A knife," said the child with fierce, sparkling eyes, "a knife is afaithful friend and servant; it never betrays or fails its master, if heis careful to give it a drink now and then, for a knife is often thirstyyou know."
"You frighten me, you naughty child!" exclaimed Isabelle, much troubledand agitated by these sinister, extravagant words, which perhaps, shethought, might be intended as a friendly warning.
"Sharpen the edge on the marble of the chimney-piece, like this,"continued Chiquita, "and polish the blade on the sole of your shoe."
"Why do you tell me all this?" cried Isabelle, turning very pale.
"For nothing in particular, only he who would defend himself gets hisweapons ready--that's all."
These odd, fierce phrases greatly alarmed Isabelle, yet Chiquita'spresence in her room was a wonderful relief and comfort to her. Thechild apparently cherished a warm and sincere affection for her, whichwas none the less genuine because of its having arisen from such atrivial incident--for the pearl beads were more precious than diamondsto Chiquita. She had given a voluntary promise to Isabelle never to killor harm her, and with her strange, wild, yet exalted notions of honourshe looked upon it as a solemn obligation and vow, by which she mustalways abide--for there was a certain savage nobility in Chiquita'scharacter, and she could be faithful unto death. Isabelle was the onlyhuman being, excepting Agostino, who had been kind to her. She hadsmiled upon the unkempt child, and given her the coveted necklace, andChiquita loved her for it, while she adored her beauty. Isabelle'ssweet countenance, so angelically mild and pure, exercised a wonderfulinfluence over the neglected little savage, who had always beensurrounded by fierce, haggard faces, expressive of every evil passion,and disfigured by indulgence in the lowest vices, and excesses of everykind.
"But how does it happen that you are here, Chiquita?" asked Isabelle,after a short silence. "Were you sent to keep guard over me?"
"No, I came alone and of my own accord," answered Chiquita, "because Isaw the light and fire. I was tired of lying all cramped up in a corner,and keeping quiet, while those beastly men drank bottle after bottle ofwine, and gorged themselves with the good things set before them. Iam so little, you know, so young and slender, that they pay no moreattention to me than they would to a kitten asleep under the table.While they were making a great noise I slipped quietly away unperceived.The smell of the wine and the food sickened me. I am used to the sweetperfume of the heather, and the pure resinous odour of the pines. Icannot breathe in such an atmosphere as there is down below there."
"And you were not afraid to wander alone, without a light, through thelong, dark corridors, and the lonely, deserted rooms?"
"Chiquita does not know what it is to be afraid--her eyes can see inthe dark, and her feet never stumble. The very owls shut their eyes whenthey meet her, and the bats fold their wings when she comes near theirhaunts. Wandering ghosts stand aside to let her pass, or turn back whenthey see her approaching. Night is her comrade and hides no secrets fromher, and Chiquita never betrays them to the day."
Her eyes flashed and dilated as she spoke, and Isabelle looked at herwith growing wonder, not unmixed with a vague sensation of fear.
"I like much better to stay here, in this heavenly quiet, by the firewith you," continued the child, "than down there in all the uproar. Youare so beautiful that I love to look at you-you are like the BlessedVirgin that I have seen shining above the altar. Only from afar though,for they always chase me out of the churches with the dogs, because Iam so shabby and forlorn. How white your hand is! Mine looks like amonkey's paw beside it--and your hair is as fine and soft as silk, whilemine is all rough and tangled. Oh! I am so horribly ugly--you must thinkso too."
"No, my dear child," Isabelle replied, touched by her naive expressionsof affection and admiration, "I do not think so. You have beautytoo--you only need to make yourself neat and clean to be as pretty alittle girl as one would wish to see."
"Do you really think so? Are you telling me true? I would steal fineclothes if they would make me pretty, for then Agostino would love me."
This idea brought a little flush of colour to her thin brown cheeks, andfor a few minutes she seemed lost in a pleasant reverie.
"Do you know where we are?" asked Isabelle, when Chiquita looked up ather again.
"In a chateau that belongs to the great seignior who has so much money,and who wanted to carry you off at Poitiers. I had only to draw the boltand it would have been done then. But you gave me the pearl necklace,and I love you, and I would not do anything you did not like."
"Yet you have helped to carry me off this time," said Isabellereproachfully. "Is it because you don't love me any more that you havegiven me up to my enemies?"
"Agostino ordered me, and I had to obey; besides, some other child couldhave played guide to the blind man as well as I, and then I could nothave come into the chateau with you, do you see?--here I may be able todo something to help you. I am brave, active and strong, though I amso small, and quick as lightning too--and I shall not let anybody harmyou."
"Is this chateau very far from Paris?" asked Isabelle, drawing Chiquitaup on her lap. "Did you hear any one mention the name of this place?"
"Yes, one of them called it--now what was it?" said the child, lookingup at the ceiling and absently scratching her head, as if to stimulateher memory.
"Try to remember it, my child!" said Isabelle, softly strokingChiquita's brown cheeks, which flushed with delight at the unwontedcaress--no one had ever petted the poor child in her life before.
"I think that it was Val-lom-breuse," said Chiquita at last, pronouncingthe syllables separately and slowly, as if listening to an inward echo."Yes, Vallombreuse, I am sure of it now. It is the name of the seigniorthat your Captain Fracasse wounded in a duel--he would have done muchbetter if he had killed him outright--saved a great deal of trouble tohimself and to you. He is very wicked, that rich duke, though he doesthrow his gold about so freely by the handfuls--just like a man sowinggrain. You hate him, don't you? and you would be glad if you could getaway from him, eh?"
"Oh yes, indeed!" cried Isabelle impetuously. "But alas! it isimpossible--a deep moat runs all around this chateau the drawbridge isup, the postern securely fastened--there is no way of escape."
"Chiquita laughs at bolts and bars, at high walls and deep moats.Chiquita can get out of the best guarded prison whenever she pleases,and fly away to the moon, right before the eyes of her astonishedjailer. If you choose, before the sun rises your Captain Fracasse shallknow where the treasure that he seeks is hidden."
Isabelle was afraid, when she heard these incoherent phrases, that thechild was not quite sane, but her little face was so calm, her dark eyesso clear and steady, her voice so earnest, and she spoke with such anair of quiet conviction, that th
e supposition was not admissible, andthe strange little creature did seem to be possessed of some of themagic powers she claimed. As if to convince Isabelle that she wasnot merely boasting, she continued, "Let me think a moment, to make aplan--don't speak nor move, for the least sound interferes with me--Imust listen to the spirit."
Chiquita bent down her head, put her hand over her eyes, and remainedfor several minutes perfectly motionless; then she raised her head andwithout a word went and opened the window, clambered up on the sill, andgazed out intently into the darkness.
"Is she really going to take flight?" said Isabelle to herself, as sheanxiously watched Chiquita's movements, not knowing what to expect.Exactly opposite to the window, on the other side of the moat, was animmense tree, very high and old, whose great branches, spreading outhorizontally, overhung the water; but the longest of them did not reachthe wall of the chateau by at least ten feet. It was upon this tree,however, that Chiquita's plan for escape depended. She turned away fromthe window, drew from her pocket a long cord made of horse-hair, veryfine and strong, which she carefully unrolled to its full length andlaid upon the floor; then produced from another pocket an iron hook,which she fastened securely to the cord. This done to her satisfaction,she went to the window again, and threw the end of the cord with thehook into the branches of the tree. The first time she was unsuccessful;the iron hook fell and struck against the stone wall beneath thecasement; but at the second attempt the hook caught and held, andChiquita, drawing the cord taut, asked Isabelle to take hold of itand bear her whole weight on it, until the branch was bent as far aspossible towards the chateau--coming five or six feet nearer to thewindow where they were. Then Chiquita tied the cord firmly to theornamental iron railing of the tiny balcony, with a knot that could notslip, climbed over, and grasping the cord with both hands, swung herselfoff, and hung suspended over the waters of the moat far below. Isabelleheld her breath. With a rapid motion of the hands Chiquita crossed theclear space, reached the tree safely, and climbed down into it with theagility of a monkey.
"Now undo the knot so that I can take the cord with me," she said, ina low but very distinct tone of voice to Isabelle, who began to breathefreely again, "unless, indeed, you would like to follow me. But youwould be frightened and dizzy, and might fall, so you had better staywhere you are. Good-bye! I am going straight to Paris, and shall soon beback again; I can get on quickly in this bright moonlight."
Isabelle did as she was bid, and the branch, being no longer held bythe cord, swung back to its original position. In less than a minuteChiquita had scrambled down to the ground, and the captive soon lostsight of her slender little figure as she walked off briskly towards thecapital.
All that had just occurred seemed like a strange dream to Isabelle, nowthat she found herself alone again. She remained for some time at theopen casement, looking at the great tree opposite, and trembling as sherealized the terrible risk Chiquita had run for her sake--feeling warmgratitude and tender affection for the wild, incomprehensible littlecreature, who manifested such a strong attachment for herself, and a newhope sprang up in her heart as she thought that now de Sigognac wouldsoon know where to find her. The cold night air at last forced her toclose the window, and after arranging the curtains over it carefully,so as to show no signs of having been disturbed, she returned to hereasy-chair by the fire; and just in time, for she had scarcely seatedherself when the major-domo entered, followed by the two servants,again carrying the little table, set for one, with her supper daintilyarranged upon it. A few minutes earlier and Chiquita's escape would havebeen discovered and prevented. Isabelle, still greatly agitated by allthat had passed, could not eat, and signed to the servants to remove thesupper untouched. Whereupon the major-domo himself put some bread andwine on a small table beside the bed, and placed on a chair near thefire a richly trimmed dressing-gown, and everything that a lady couldrequire in making her toilet for the night. Several large logs of woodwere piled up on the massive andirons, the candles were renewed, andthen the major-domo, approaching Isabelle with a profound obeisance,said to her that if she desired the services of a maid he would send oneto her. As she made a gesture of dissent he withdrew, after again bowingto her most respectfully. When they had all gone, Isabelle, quite wornout, threw herself down on the outside of the bed without undressing, soas to be ready in case of any sudden alarm in the night; then took outChiquita's knife, opened it, and laid it beside her. Having taken theseprecautions, she closed her eyes, and hoped that she could for a whileforget her troubles in sleep; but she had been so much excited andagitated that her nerves were all quivering, and it was long before sheeven grew drowsy. There were so many strange, incomprehensible noises inthe great, empty house to disturb and startle her; and in her own room,the cracking of the furniture, the ticking of a death-watch in the wallnear her bed, the gnawing of a rat behind the wainscot, the snapping ofthe fire. At each fresh sound she started up in terror, with herpoor heart throbbing as if it would burst out of her breast, a coldperspiration breaking out on her forehead, and trembling in every limb.At last, however, weary nature had to succumb, and she fell into a deepsleep, which lasted until she was awakened by the sun shining on herface. Her first thought was to wonder that she had not yet seen the Dukeof Vallombreuse; but she was thankful for his absence, and hoped thatit would continue until Chiquita should have brought de Sigognac to therescue.
The reason why the young duke had not yet made his appearance was one ofpolicy. He had taken especial pains to show himself at Saint Germain onthe day of the abduction--had joined the royal hunting party, andbeen exceedingly and unwontedly affable to all who happened to comein contact with him. In the evening he had played at cards, and lostostentatiously sums that would have been of importance to a less wealthyman--being all the time in a very genial mood--especially after thearrival of a mounted messenger, who brought him a little note. Thus theduke's desire to be able to establish an incontestable alibi, in case ofneed, had spared Isabelle thus far the infliction of his hated presence;but while she was congratulating herself upon it, and welcoming thesunshine that streamed into her room, she heard the drawbridge being letdown, and immediately after a carriage dashed over it and thunderedinto the court. Her heart sank, for who would be likely to enter inthat style save the master of the house? Her face grew deathly pale, shereeled, and for one dreadful moment felt as if she should faint; but,rallying her courage, she reminded herself that Chiquita had gone tobring de Sigognac to her aid, and determined afresh to meet bravelywhatever trials might be in store for her, until her beloved knightand champion should arrive, to rescue her from her terrible danger andirksome imprisonment. Her eyes involuntarily sought the portrait overthe chimney-piece, and after passionately invoking it, and imploringits aid and protection, as if it had been her patron saint, she felta certain sense of ease and security, as if what she had so earnestlyentreated would really be accorded to her.
A full hour had elapsed, which the young duke had employed in the dutiesof the toilet, and in snatching a few minutes of repose after hisrapid night-journey, when the major-domo presented himself, and askedrespectfully if Isabelle would receive the Duke of Vallombreuse.
"I am a prisoner," she replied, with quiet dignity, "and this demand,which would be fitting and polite in any ordinary case, is only amockery when addressed to one in my position. I have no means ofpreventing your master's coming into this room, nor can I quit it toavoid him. I do not accept his visit but submit to it. He must do as hepleases about it, and come and go when he likes. He allows me no choicein the matter. Go and tell him exactly what I have said to you."
The major-domo bowed low, and retired backward to the door, havingreceived strict orders to treat Isabelle with the greatest respect andconsideration. In a few minutes he returned, and announced the Duke ofVallombreuse.
Isabelle half rose from her chair by the fire, but turned very pale andfell back into it, as her unwelcome visitor made his appearance at thedoor. He closed it and advanced slowly towards her
, hat in hand, butwhen he perceived that she was trembling violently, and looked ready tofaint, he stopped in the middle of the room, made a low bow, and said inhis most dulcet, persuasive tones:
"If my presence is too unbearably odious now to the charming Isabelle,and she would like to have a little time to get used to the thought ofseeing me, I will withdraw. She is my prisoner, it is true, but I amnone the less her slave."
"This courtesy is tardy," Isabelle replied coldly, "after the violenceyou have made use of against me."
"That is the natural result," said the duke, with a smile, "of pushingpeople to extremity by a too obstinate and prolonged resistance. Havinglost all hope, they stop at nothing--knowing that they cannot makematters any worse, whatever they do. If you had only been willing tosuffer me to pay my court to you in the regular way, and shown a littleindulgence to my love, I should have quietly remained among the ranksof your passionate adorers; striving, by dint of delicate attentions,chivalrous devotion, magnificent offerings, and respectful yet ardentsolicitations, to soften that hard heart of yours. If I could nothave succeeded in inspiring it with love for me, I might at least haveawakened in it that tender pity which is akin to love, and which is sooften only its forerunner. In the end, perhaps, you would have repentedof your cruel severity, and acknowledged that you had been unjusttowards me. Believe me, my charming Isabelle, I should have neglectednothing to bring it about."
"If you had employed only honest and honourable means in your suit,"Isabelle rejoined, "I should have felt very sorry that I had been sounfortunate as to inspire an attachment I could not reciprocate, andwould have given you my warm sympathy, and friendly regard, instead ofbeing reluctantly compelled, by repeated outrages, to hate you instead.
"You do hate me then?--you acknowledge it?" the duke cried, his voicetrembling with rage; but he controlled himself, and after a short pausecontinued, in a gentler tone, "Yet I do not deserve it. My only wrongstowards you, if any there be, have come from the excess and ardour ofmy love; and what woman, however chaste and virtuous, can be seriouslyangry with a gallant gentleman because he has been conquered by thepower of her adorable charms? whether she so desired or not."
"Certainly, that is not a reason for dislike or anger, my lord, if thesuitor does not overstep the limits of respect, as all women will agree.But when his insolent impatience leads him to commit excesses, and heresorts to fraud, abduction, and imprisonment, as you have not hesitatedto do, there is no other result possible than an unconquerable aversion.Coercion is always and inevitably revolting to a nature that has anyproper pride or delicacy. Love, true love, is divine, and cannot befurnished to order, or extorted by violence. It is spontaneous, andfreely given--not to be bought, nor yet won by importunity."
"Is an unconquerable aversion then all that I am to expect from you?"said Vallombreuse, who had become pale to ghastliness, and been fiercelygnawing his under lip, while Isabelle was speaking, in her sweet, cleartones, which fell on his ear like the soft chiming of silver bells, andonly served to enhance his devouring passion.
"There is yet one means of winning my friendship and gratitude--be nobleand generous, and give me back the liberty of which you have deprivedme. Let me return to my companions, who must be anxiously seeking forme, and suffering keenly because of their fears for my safety. Let mego and resume my lowly life as an actress, before this outrageousaffair--which may irreparably injure my reputation--has become generallyknown, or my absence from the theatre been remarked by the public."
"How unfortunate it is," cried the duke, angrily, "that you should askof me the only thing I cannot do for you. If you had expressed yourdesire for an empire, a throne, I would have given it to you--or if youhad wished for a star, I would have climbed up into the heavens to getit for you. But here you calmly ask me to open the door of this cage,little bird, to which you would never come back of your own accord, if Iwere stupid enough to let you go. It is impossible! I know well that youlove me so little, or rather hate me so much, that you would never seeme again of your own free will--that my only chance of enjoying yourcharming society is to lock you up--keep you my prisoner. However muchit may cost my pride, I must do it--for I can no more live withoutyou than a plant without the light. My thoughts turn to you as theheliotrope to the sun. Where you are not, all is darkness for me. Ifwhat I have dared to do is a crime, I must make the best of it, andprofit by it as much as I can--for you would never forgive nor overlookit, whatever you may say now. Here at least I have you--I hold you. Ican surround you with my love and care, and strive to melt the ice ofyour coldness by the heat of my passion. Your eyes must behold me--yourears must listen to my voice. I shall exert an influence over you, ifonly by the alarm and detestation I am so unfortunate as to inspire inyour gentle breast; the sound of my footsteps in your antechamber willmake you start and tremble. And then, besides all that, this captivityseparates you effectually from the miserable fellow you fancy that youlove--and whom I abhor; because he has dared to turn your heart awayfrom me. I can at least enjoy this small satisfaction, of keeping youfrom him; and I will not let you go free to return to him--you may beperfectly sure of that, my fair lady!"
"And how long do you intend to keep me captive?--not like a Christiangentleman, but like a lawless corsair."
"Until you have learned to love me--or at least to say that you have,which amounts to the same thing."
Then he made her a low bow, and departed, with as self-satisfied andjaunty an air as if he had been in truth a favoured suitor. Half anhour later a lackey brought in a beautiful bouquet, of the rarestand choicest flowers, while the stems were clasped by a magnificentbracelet, fit for a queen's wearing. A little piece of folded papernestled among the flowers--a note from the duke--and the fair prisonerrecognised the handwriting as the same in which "For Isabelle" waswritten, on the slip of paper that accompanied the casket of jewels atPoitiers. The note read as follows:
"DEAR ISABELLE--I send you these flowers, though I know they will beungraciously received. As they come from me, their beauty and fragrancewill not find favour in your eyes. But whatever may be their fate, eventhough you only touch them to fling them disdainfully out of the window,they will force you to think for a moment--if it be but in anger--of himwho declares himself, in spite of everything, your devoted adorer,
"VALLOMBREUSE."
This note, breathing of the most specious gallantry, and tenacity ofpurpose, did produce very much the effect it predicted; for it madeIsabelle exceedingly angry; and, without even once inhaling thedelicious perfume of the flowers, or pausing for an instant to admiretheir beauty, she flung the bouquet, diamond bracelet and all, out intothe antechamber. Never surely were lovely blossoms so badly treated; andyet Isabelle was excessively fond of them; but she feared that if sheeven allowed them to remain a little while in her room, their donorwould presume upon the slight concession. She had scarcely resumed herseat by the fire, after disposing of the obnoxious bouquet, when a maidappeared, who had been sent to wait upon her. She was a pretty, refinedlooking girl, but very pale, and with an air of deep melancholy--asif she were brooding over a secret sorrow. She offered her servicesto Isabelle without looking up, and in a low, subdued voice, as if shefeared that the very walls had ears. Isabelle allowed her to take downand comb out her long, silky hair, which was very much dishevelled, andto arrange it again as she habitually wore it; which was quickly andskilfully done. Then the maid opened a wardrobe and took out severalbeautiful gowns, exquisitely made and trimmed, and just Isabelle'ssize; but she would not even look at them, and sharply ordered that theyshould instantly be put back where they belonged, though her own dresswas very much the worse for the rough treatment it had been subjected toon the preceding day, and it was a trial to the sweet, dainty creatureto be so untidy. But she was determined to accept nothing from the duke,no matter how long her captivity might last. The maid did not insist,but acceded to her wishes with a mild, pitying air--just as indulgenceis shown, as far as possible, to all the little whims and caprices ofp
risoners condemned to death. Isabelle would have liked to question herattendant, and endeavour to elicit some information from her, butthe girl was more like an automaton than anything else, and it wasimpossible to gain more than a monosyllable from her lips. So Isabelleresigned herself with a sigh to her mute ministerings, not without asort of vague terror.
After the maid had retired, dinner was served as before, and Isabellemade a hearty meal--feeling that she must keep up her strength, andalso hopeful of hearing something in a few hours more from her faithfullover. Her thoughts were all of him, and as she realized the dangers towhich he would inevitably be exposed for her sake, her eyes filledwith tears, and a sharp pang shot through her heart. She was angry withherself for being the cause of so much trouble, and fain to curse herown beauty--the unhappy occasion of it all. She was absorbed in thesesad thoughts when a little noise as if a hail-stone had struck againstthe window pane, suddenly aroused her. She flew to the casement, and sawChiquita, in the tree opposite, signing to her to open it, and swingingback and forth the long horse-hair cord, with the iron hook attached toit. She hastened to comply with the wishes of her strange little ally,and, as she stepped back in obedience to another sign, the hook, thrownwith unerring aim, caught securely in the iron railing of the littlebalcony. Chiquita tied the other end of the cord to the branch to whichshe was clinging, and then began to cross over the intervening spaceas before; but ere she was half-way over, the knot gave way, and poorIsabelle for one moment of intense agony thought that the child waslost. But, instead of falling into the moat beneath her, Chiquita, whodid not appear to be in the least disconcerted by this accident, swungover against the wall below the balcony, and climbing up the cord handover hand, leaped lightly into the room, before Isabelle had recoveredher breath. Finding her very pale, and tremulous, the child saidsmilingly, "You were frightened, eh? and thought Chiquita would falldown among the frogs in the moat. When I tied my cord to the branch,I only made a slip-knot, so that I could bring it back with me. I musthave looked like a big spider climbing up its thread," she added, with alaugh.
"My dear child," said Isabelle, with much feeling, and kissingChiquita's forehead, "you are a very brave little girl."
"I saw your friends. They had been searching and searching for you; butwithout Chiquita they would never have found out where you were hidden.The captain was rushing about like an angry lion--his eyes flashedfire--he was magnificent. I came back with him. He rode, and held mein front of him. He is hidden in a little wood not far off, he and hiscomrades--they must keep out of sight, you know. This evening, as soonas it is dark, they will try to get in here to you--by the tree,you know. There's sure to be a scrimmage--pistol shots and swordsclashing--oh! it will be splendid; for there's nothing so fine as a goodfight; when the men are in earnest, and fierce and brave. Now don't yoube frightened and scream, as silly women do; nothing upsets them likethat. You must just remain perfectly quiet, and keep out of theirway. If you like, I will come and stay by you, so that you will not beafraid."
"Don't be uneasy about that, Chiquita! I will not annoy my bravefriends, who come to save my life at the risk of their own, by anyfoolish fears or demonstrations; that I promise you."
"That's right," the child replied, "and until they come, you can defendyourself with my knife, you know. Don't forget the proper way to use it.Strike like this, and then do so; you can rip him up beautifully. Asfor me, I'm going to hunt up a quiet corner where I can get a nap. No,I can't stay here, for we must not be seen together; it would never do.Now do you be sure to keep away from that window. You must not even gonear it, no matter what you hear, for fear they might suspect that youhoped for help from that direction. If they did, it would be all up withus; for they would send out and search the woods, and beat the bushes,and find our friends where they lie hidden. The whole thing would fallthrough, and you would have to stop here with this horrid duke that youhate so much."
"I will not go near the window," Isabelle answered, "nor even looktowards it, however much I may wish to. You may depend upon mydiscretion, Chiquita, I do assure you."
Reassured upon this important point, Chiquita crept softly away, andwent back to the lower room where she had left the ruffians carousing.They were still there--lying about on the benches and the floor, in adrunken sleep, and evidently had not even missed her. She curled herselfup in a corner, as far as might be from the loathsome brutes, and wasasleep in a minute. The poor child was completely tired out; her slenderlittle feet had travelled eight leagues the night before, running a goodpart of the way, and the return on horseback had perhaps fatigued hereven more, being unaccustomed to it. Although her fragile little bodyhad the strength and endurance of steel, she was worn out now, and lay,pale and motionless, in a sleep that seemed like death.
"Dear me! how these children do sleep to be sure," said Malartic,when he roused himself at last and looked about him. "In spite of ourcarouse, and all the noise we made, that little monkey in the cornerthere has never waked nor stirred. Halloa! wake up you fellows! drunkenbeasts that you are. Try to stand up on your hind legs, and go out inthe court and dash a bucket of cold water over your cursed heads. TheCirce of drunkenness has made swine of you in earnest--go and see if thebaptism I recommend will turn you back into men, and then we'll take alittle look round the place, to make sure there's no plot hatching torescue the little beauty we have in charge."
The men scrambled to their feet slowly and with difficulty, andstaggered out into the court as best they might, where the fresh air,and the treatment prescribed by Malartic, did a good deal towardsreviving them; but they were a sorry looking set after all, and therewere many aching heads among them. As soon as they were fit for it,Malartic took three of the least tipsy of them, and leading the way to asmall postern that opened on the moat, unchained a row-boat lying there,crossed the broad ditch, ascended a steep flight of steps leading upthe bank on the other side, and, leaving one man to guard the boat,proceeded to make a tour of inspection in the immediate vicinity of thechateau; fortunately without stumbling on the party concealed in thewood, or seeing anything to arouse their suspicions; so they returned totheir quarters perfectly satisfied that there was no enemy lurking near.
Meantime Isabelle, left quite alone, tried in vain to interest herselfin a book she had found lying upon one of the side-tables. She reada few pages mechanically, and then, finding it impossible to fix herattention upon it, threw the volume from her and sat idly in front ofthe fire, which was blazing cheerily, thinking of her own true lover,and praying that he might be preserved from injury in the impendingstruggle. Evening came at last--a servant brought in lights, and soonafter the major-domo announced a visit from the Duke of Vallombreuse.He entered at once, and greeted his fair captive with the most finishedcourtesy. He looked very handsome, in a superb suit of pearl gray satin,richly trimmed with crimson velvet, and Isabelle could not but admirehis personal appearance, much as she detested his character.
"I have come to see, my adorable Isabelle, whether I shall be morekindly received than my flowers," said he, drawing up a chair besidehers. "I have not the vanity to think so, but I want you to becomeaccustomed to my presence. To-morrow another bouquet, and anothervisit."
"Both will be useless, my lord," she replied, "though I am sorry to haveto be so rude as to say so--but I had much better be perfectly frankwith you."
"Ah, well!" rejoined the duke, with a malicious smile, "I will dispensewith hope, and content myself with reality. You do not know, my poorchild, what a Vallombreuse can do--you, who vainly try to resist him.He has never yet known what it was to have an unsatisfied desire--heinvariably gains his ends, in spite of all opposition--nothing can stophim. Tears, supplication, laments, threats, even dead bodies and smokingruins would not daunt him. Do not tempt him too powerfully, by throwingnew obstacles in his way, you imprudent child!"
Isabelle, frightened by the expression of his countenance as he spokethus, instinctively pushed her chair farther away from his, and felt forChiquita's knife.
But the wily duke, seeing that he had made a mistake,instantly changed his tone, and begging her pardon most humbly for hisvehemence, endeavoured to persuade her, by many specious arguments, thatshe was wrong in persistently turning a deaf ear to his suit--settingforth at length, and in glowing words, all the advantages that wouldaccrue to her if she would but yield to his wishes, and describing thehappiness in store for her. While he was thus eloquently pleading hiscause, Isabelle, who had given him only a divided attention, thoughtthat she heard a peculiar little noise in the direction whence thelonged-for aid was to come, and fearing that Vallombreuse might hear italso, hastened to answer him the instant that he paused, in a way to vexhim still further--for she preferred his anger to his love-making. Also,she hoped that by quarrelling with him she would be able to preventhis perceiving the suspicious little sound--now growing louder and morenoticeable.
"The happiness that you so eloquently describe, my lord, would be for mea disgrace, which I am resolved to escape by death, if all other meansfail me. You never shall have me living. Formerly I regarded you withindifference, but now I both hate and despise you, for your infamous,outrageous and violent behaviour to me, your helpless victim. Yes, I mayas well tell you openly--and I glory in it--that I do love the Baron deSigognac, whom you have more than once so basely tried to assassinate,through your miserable hired ruffians."
The strange noise still kept on, and Isabelle raised her voice to drownit. At her audacious, defiant words, so distinctly and impressivelyenunciated--hurled at him, as it were--Vallombreuse turned pale, and hiseyes flashed ominously; a light foam gathered about the corners of hismouth, and he laid hold of the handle of his sword. For an instant hethought of killing Isabelle himself, then and there. If he could nothave her, at least no one else should. But he relinquished that ideaalmost as soon as it occurred to him, and with a hard, forced laughsaid, as he sprang up and advanced impetuously towards Isabelle, whoretreated before him:
"Now, by all the devils in hell, I cannot help admiring you immenselyin this mood. It is a new role for you, and you are deucedly charmingin it. You have got such a splendid colour, and your eyes are sobright--you are superb, I declare. I am greatly flattered at yourblazing out into such dazzling beauty on my account--upon my word I am.You have done well to speak out openly--I hate deceit. So you love deSigognac, do you? So much the better, say I--it will be all the sweeterto call you mine. It will be a pleasing variety to press ardentkisses upon sweet lips that say 'I hate you,' instead of the insipid,everlasting 'I love you,' that one gets a surfeit of from all the prettywomen of one's acquaintance."
Alarmed at this coarse language, and the threatening gestures thataccompanied it, Isabelle started back and drew out Chiquita's knife.
"Bravo!" cried the duke--"here comes the traditional poniard. We arebeing treated to a bit of high tragedy. But, my fierce little beauty, ifyou are well up in your Roman history, you will remember that the chasteMme. Lucretia did not make use of her dagger until AFTER the assault ofSextus, the bold son of Tarquin the Proud. That ancient and much-citedexample is a good one to follow."
And without paying any more attention to the knife than to a bee-sting,he had violently seized Isabelle in his arms before she could raise itto strike.
Just at that moment a loud cracking noise was heard, followed by atremendous crash, and the casement fell clattering to the floor, withevery pane of glass in it shattered; as if a giant had put his kneeagainst it and broken it in; while a mass of branches protruded throughthe opening into the room. It was the top of the tree that Chiquita hadmade such good use of as a way of escape and return. The trunk, sawednearly through by de Sigognac and his companions, was guided in its fallso as to make a means of access to Isabelle's window; both bridging themoat, and answering all the purposes of a ladder.
The Duke of Vallombreuse, astonished at this most extraordinaryintrusion upon his love-making, released his trembling victim, and drewhis sword. Chiquita, who had crept into the room unperceived when thecrash came, pulled Isabelle's sleeve and whispered, "Come into thiscorner, out of the way; the dance is going to begin."
As she spoke, several pistol shots were heard without, and four ofthe duke's ruffians--who were doing garrison duty came rushing up thestairs, four steps at a time, and dashed into the room-sword in hand,and eager for the fray.