She vanished from the doorway like a shadow, but I was after her. Even as I passed the threshold, I heard a clear, piercing cry.
“Pierre!” screamed the voice. “Oh, Pierre! This way!”
“Nanette!” I cried. “Nanette! In a moment, my darling!” and I hurled myself across the room and down the hallway whence the cry seemed to come.
In that instant, I saw a huge shadow quivering on the wall above me and before I could turn, a crushing blow fell upon my head. There was a burst of flame before my eyes, my sword slipped from my hand, I felt myself falling, falling, and all was black.
CHAPTER X
MÈRE FOUCHON SCORES
I awoke with a great pain in my eyes, and when I raised my hand to my head, I found that my hair was clotted with blood. A weight of iron seemed to burden every limb, and I groaned aloud as I tried to rise, and fell back again, palsied by the agony the movement cost me. I felt the wall behind me, and dragging myself to it with infinite suffering, I propped my back against it and looked about me. I could see nothing, for a veil of impenetrable darkness shut me in, and no single crevice admitted a ray of light. The wall against which I leaned was cold and slimy, and once or twice a drop of water fell upon my head.
How long I sat there I do not know, but finally, by a supreme effort, I got to my knees and then to my feet. Feeling along the wall, I advanced a step, two steps, three. And then something seemed to seize me by the waist and hurl me backward. I lay still for a moment, half-dazed, not understanding what had happened. I put my hands to my waist and in an instant I comprehended. Around my waist, just above the hips, an iron band was clamped. At the back of the band was a hasp, through which a chain passed. I ran my hands along the chain. It was perhaps three feet in length, and the other end was fastened to the wall.
I suppose I must have fainted, for I remember nothing more until I was torn from the merciful grasp of sleep by a burning thirst, a thirst which tortured and maddened me. I could feel my throat contracting; my tongue swelling in my throbbing mouth—my blood seemed to be aflame. I scraped my fingers over the reeking wall and sucked them for a bit of moisture. I held my mouth open, upward, in the hope that a drop of water might fall into it. I cursed aloud and jerked at my chain in an agony of desperation. At last, I fell exhausted against the wall, and sank into a troubled sleep, disturbed by hideous dreams.
When I opened my eyes again, I seemed stronger. The pain in my head was less intense, but my throat was still dry and parched and I felt hot and feverish. A chance motion of my hand brought it into contact with something on the floor beside me. I felt it cautiously. It seemed to be a vessel of some kind. I placed my fingers within it and found it full of water. With a gasp of thankfulness, I placed it to my lips and drank, trembling at the thought that had I turned in my sleep I might have upset it and spilled its precious contents.
Ah, how I drank! I swallowed in great gulps. I filled my mouth to bursting and allowed the blessed liquid to trickle slowly down my throat. I turned my head from side to side, that every portion of my gullet might be reached. I gloated over it as a miser over his gold, and at last with a sigh of utter content, set down the vessel empty.