“Ribaut,” I said, turning to the miserable object cowering in the chair, “if I gave you your deserts I would kill you like the cur you are, but I scorn to draw my sword against such vermin. I warn you that if you so much as lift your finger against that girl you shall pay for it with your life,” and fearing that my passion would yet get the better of me, I turned from the room, strode down the hallway and left the house.
As I made my way to the Rue du Chantre I tried in vain to solve the mystery of which I had caught but a glimpse—the terror of Ribaut, the ferocity of Briquet, the evident understanding between the two. Why were they determined to sacrifice the girl? I could find no answer to the question, and I turned to another problem which demanded immediate solution.
How was I to provide for her now that the die was cast? I remembered with a melancholy accuracy that my fortune was limited to the contents of my purse and that my purse was anything but heavy. What a cottage at St. Cloud would cost I dared not think, and then a wardrobe had also to be provided, since she had brought with her only the clothes she wore.
It was with this problem weighing on my mind that I turned into the entrance and slowly mounted the stairs to my room. I knocked at the door, but there was no response. With a great fear at my heart I flung the door open and entered. One glance told me that the room was empty. Chairs had been overturned, the lock of the door was broken. With a trembling hand I picked up a garment in which there was still a threaded needle. I could read the story at a glance. She had been surprised, overpowered, carried away. And in the moment of agony that followed I knew that I loved her.
CHAPTER VI
RIBAUT PLAYS A CARD
I stood for a moment dazed by this unexpected blow, for which I had been wholly unprepared. From what direction had it come? Clearly not from Ribaut, since I had been with him all the time. From whom, then? And in an instant I remembered the mysterious actions of the old woman who had fallen over my feet the night before. I ran down the stairs like the wind, and as I reached the court I perceived her sitting in her ruinous little lodge. I drew my sword, threw the door open and entered.
“Madame,” I said, with all the calmness I could muster, “you will tell me at once what has happened to the lady who was in my room.”
She crouched back in her chair away from the point at her throat and looked at me with venomous eyes.
“I know nothing about it,” she snarled. “You will have to look elsewhere, my fine blade.”
“No lies!” I said sharply. “You cannot deceive me. She could not have been carried off without you seeing it, even if you did not lend a hand.”