“And when is this marriage to take place?” I asked, affecting to pass over that portion of the message which concerned myself, though it struck me to the heart.
“Soon,” and Drouet winked. “You see, M. d’Aurilly is hungering to possess this pretty piece of womanhood—it seems he is even in love with her! To-morrow, perhaps, or next day. M. le Duc is a man who never delays, and he has a priest here who is most obliging.”
“The King,” I cried, “will have something to say to that! There are rumors of strange plots which affect your master. He may go too far!”
But Drouet only laughed.
“Paris is a long way off,” he said, “and the King has much that concerns him nearer home. Besides, this castle could set at naught even a King’s army, should any be brought against it, which is most unlikely. But in all this rush of events do not despair—you will not be forgotten. M. le Duc himself will wish to see you ere long,” and he chuckled to himself as he picked up his lantern and moved towards the door.
For an instant I burned to spring upon him, to pull him down, to kill him with his own poniard. But there was doubtless a sentry in the corridor, who could wing me with a single musket-shot—not yet—not yet—and I let him pass. I must first find a plan—a plan. Come, what were my wits for?
I lay down on my pallet in one corner to think it over. But what a problem! To escape from this stronghold in the air, with only one’s bare hands to aid! It was too much for even a Marsan’s cunning!
A musket-shot far down the hill brought me out of my thoughts and to my feet. It was followed by another and another, and as I rushed to my window I fancied I could hear a chorus of yells, as of men fighting hand to hand. The cries rose and fell and died away—then a tremendous explosion shook the earth. Far below me I saw a great spurt of flame shoot upward, and I knew that M. le Comte was blowing in the gates of Marleon. At least, he could make himself master of the town. There was for a few moments a renewal of the fighting, and then all was still again.
I thought the attack over, and was just turning to rest when there came another burst of firing from behind the hill—M. le Comte was trying to force the castle! The firing waxed and waned and died away. I listened in vain for any further outcry. Plainly, he had been repulsed, and seeing how desperate the road was, had not ventured a second assault. Would he ever venture it, I wondered! He loved his daughter, to be sure, yet would it not be the purest folly to dash himself to pieces against this rock in the attempt to rescue her? What could he hope to accomplish? And whenever Roquefort scented danger, could he not threaten reprisals on Mademoiselle herself? Better to draw off, to leave Mademoiselle to such fate as Roquefort had prepared for her, and wait another day, when, by some ruse or sudden ambuscade, Roquefort and d’Aurilly might be made to pay drop for drop!
Weighted with such bitter thoughts, I lay down again upon my pallet and this time dropped asleep. Nor did I waken till some one shook me roughly, and I opened my eyes to see Drouet standing above me and full day peering in at the window.