Again Cartouche cried out for me to halt, and again I did not answer.
I glanced ahead and saw that the regent’s party had apparently heard the tramp of our horses, for they had stopped to listen. In an instant I had seized a pistol from the holster and fired it in the air. They would hear the report and at least be prepared to face the danger which threatened them. As my shot rang out through the still night air I heard a savage oath behind me. There came a crash of pistols and a great blow seemed to strike me in the head. I reeled in the saddle, caught myself as I was falling, and held on. The earth seemed whirling under me, strange lights danced before my eyes. I shook them from me with clenched teeth; I was out in the moonlight; my horse still staggered on. And then, as in a dream, I saw the regent, sitting on his horse calmly in the middle of the road.
“Save yourself, monsieur!” I cried. “Save yourself! They would kill you!”
I felt the horse slipping from under me, the sky grew black, something in my head seemed to burst, and I knew no more.
CHAPTER XIX
D’ANCENIS TELLS THE STORY
I lay for some time without stirring, looking fixedly at the window in front of me and wondering in a vague way what had happened. I could see the sun shining brightly on some shrubbery outside the window. The view was stopped by a wall, and a dull and monotonous roar, which I recognized as belonging to the city, was in my ears. I perceived I was in bed. A white, narrow bed. I turned my head slowly and gazed about the room. It was small and plainly furnished, but seemed clean and comfortable. The thought forced its way into my mind that I had never before been in this room. How, then, did I get there?
I closed my eyes again, and for a long time my brain refused to grapple with the problem. It seemed as though coming back from a country full of mist, and clouds of the mist still clung to it. Finally, with supreme effort of will, I opened my eyes again, and again looked through the window and about the room. This time I could think more clearly. No, I had never been here before, and the question repeated itself, How, then, did I get here?
And still I could get no farther than the question. I heard a door open, and some one tiptoed to the bedside. I found myself looking up into a sweet, colorless face. It was surrounded by a black wimple, and I remembered dimly that I had seen nuns wearing such. The eyes looked down for a moment into mine and were then withdrawn. As I still lay staring at the ceiling, another face appeared before me. It was the face of a man whom I did not know. Or, wait a moment, I had seen it before somewhere, but my brain seemed to recoil at the effort at recollection.
“He is doing nicely,” I heard a voice say. “He will soon be quite well. The danger was that he would never regain consciousness.”
Again the face was withdrawn, and I felt an arm under my head lifting me up. A cup was pressed to my lips.