“My faith, M. de Marsan,” he laughed, “you look as though you were itching to treat me as you did d’Aurilly.”
“God will yet give me the chance!” I answered, between my teeth.
He laughed again and led the girl to the door, leaving me jerking convulsively at my straps.
CHAPTER XII
A MESSAGE FROM WITHOUT
I lay for some hours in my cell, dazed by this new misfortune, nursing my aching muscles and smarting fingers. I had, it is true, saved Mademoiselle Valérie from the most immediate danger which threatened her, but only to hurl her into an abyss more frightful. For Roquefort had said that he would soon select another man to wed her,—one of his followers, no doubt; base-born, vulgar, low, more odious even than d’Aurilly,—so that in the end she must fare worse than ever. For a moment I found it in my heart to regret that I had killed d’Aurilly, then the memory of his great villainies came back to me and the regret passed. Earth were well rid of him!
After a time Drouet brought my dinner, and inquired with pretended solicitude about my injuries. I told him they were not worth speaking of, though my fingers were very sore from the dagger-cut and my muscles still ached abominably. He saw I was in no mood for talk and soon left me to myself.
I had no relish for the food, and went to the window in the faint hope that I might see some promise of assault in M. le Comte’s camp below, but the hope died as I looked down at it. The force was still there, indeed, but the men were sprawled here and there in little groups and the horses were grazing along the slope. He had not taken possession of the town, preferring, doubtless, to levy upon the inhabitants for supplies and leave them the possession of their houses. Besides, in the town there was danger of surprise or betrayal. Yonder on the hill-top there was none.
But I could guess how M. le Comte was eating his heart out gazing at this fortress on a cliff and wondering what had befallen his daughter.
It is not an easy thing for a man who has ordered life ever as he pleased to sit down quietly and accept defeat. Yet had he ten times the men, success had been far off as ever.
I was about to turn away when I heard a little rustling on the wall outside the window, and saw that it was caused by a piece of paper dangling at the end of a string. It was jerked vigorously back and forth. In a second I understood. Some one on the parapet, just over me, was trying to attract my attention. Plainly, the paper was for me. I strained my arm through the window and at last managed to grasp it. With fast-beating heart I drew it in and took it from the string, which was jerked away as soon as I released it. Then I unfolded the paper and read. The note ran: