Consuelo was terrified, and fled to the extremity of the room. Mayer followed her. She saw that if she sacrificed honor to humanity she was lost; and suddenly, inspired by the wild ferocity of Spanish women, as Mayer embraced her, she gave him about three inches of the knife she had concealed. Mayer was rather fat and the wound was not dangerous; but when he saw the blood, for he was as cowardly as he was sensual, he thought he was dead, and came near fainting, falling on his face on the bed. He cried out, "I am murdered! I am dead!" Consuelo thought she had killed him, and was also near fainting. After a few moments of silent terror, she ventured to approach him and took the key of the room, which he had let fall. No sooner had she possession of it than she felt her courage revive. She went into the galleries and found all the doors open before her. She went down a staircase, which led she knew not whither. She could scarcely support herself, as she heard the alarm clock, and not long after the roll of the drums. She also heard the gun which had echoed through the night when Gottlieb's somnambulism had caused an alarm. She sank on her knees at the last steps, and clasping her hands, invoked God to aid Gottlieb and the generous Karl. Separated from them, after having permitted them to expose their lives for her, she felt herself powerless and hopeless. Heavy and hasty steps sounded on her ears, the light of torches dazzled her eyes, and she could not say whether this was reality or the effect of delirium. She hid herself in a corner and lost all consciousness.
[12]Consuelo here gave some details we have already mentioned about the Swartz family. All that was mere repetition to the reader has been suppressed.
[CHAPTER XX]
When Consuelo recovered from her unconscious state, she was delighted, although unaware of where she was, or how she had come thither. She was asleep in the open air, but without feeling any inconvenience from the cold of the night, and casting her eyes toward heaven, she saw the stars shining in the clear sky. To this enchanting prospect succeeded ere long a sensation of rapid but pleasant motion. The sound of the oars as they fell in the water at regular intervals, made her understand that she was in a boat, and was passing over the lake. A gentle heat penetrated her limbs, and in the placidity of the silent waters, where the breeze agitated numerous aquatic plants, something pleasant recalled the waters of Venice during the spring. Consuelo lifted up her languid head, looked around her and saw two rowers, one at each extremity of the boat. She looked at the citadel, and saw it in the distance, dark as a mountain of stone in the transparency of the water and sky. She said at once to herself that she was safe, remembered her friends, and pronounced Karl's name with anxiety. "Here I am, signora; not a word; be silent as possible," said Karl, who sat in front of her and rowed away. Consuelo fancied that the other oarsman was Gottlieb, and completely exhausted, she resumed her former attitude. Some one threw over her a soft and warm cloak: she threw it aside, however, that she might contemplate the starry sky which was unfolded above her.
As she felt her strength and the elasticity of her power, which had been paralysed by a violent nervous movement, return, she recovered her senses, and the remembrance of Mayer presented itself horribly to her. She made an effort to arouse herself again, and saw that her head rested on the knees of a third person, whom as yet she had not seen, or whom she had taken for a bale of goods, so completely was he wrapped up and buried in the boat.
Consuelo was terrified when she recalled the imprudent confidence Karl had exhibited to Mayer, and when she fancied the adjutant might be near her. The care he seemed to take appeared to aggravate the suspicions of the fugitive. She was confused at having reposed on that man's bosom, and almost reproached herself for having enjoyed under his protection a few moments of healthful and ineffable oblivion.
Fortunately the boat touched the shore just then, and Consuelo hastened to take Karl's hand and to step on shore. The shock, however, of the boat touching the shore, made her tremble, and almost fall into the arms of this mysterious person. She then saw him rise, and discovered that he wore a black mask. He was at least a head taller than Mayer, and though wrapped in a large cloak, had the appearance of being tall and thin. These circumstances completely assured the fugitive, and she accepted the arm which was silently offered her. She then walked about fifty paces on the strand, followed by Karl and another individual, who by signs had enjoined on her not to say a single word. The country was silent and deserted, and not the slightest sound was heard in the citadel. Behind the thicket was a coach with four horses, into which the stranger went with Consuelo. Karl got on the box, and the third individual disappeared without Consuelo having noticed him. She yielded to the silent anxiety of her liberators, and ere long the carriage, which was excellent and admirably built, rolled on with the rapidity of lightning. The noise of the wheels, and the rapidity of conveyance, did not at all contribute to conversation. Consuelo was intimidated, she was even terrified at a tête-à-tête with the stranger. When she saw that there was no danger, she thought it her duty to express her gratitude and joy. She obtained no answer, however. He sat in front of her as a token of respect; he took her hand and clasped it in his, but said nothing. He then sank into the recess of the carriage, and Consuelo, who had begun the conversation, dared say nothing, and did not venture to persist on his silent refusal. She was very anxious to know what generous friend had secured her safety, yet she experienced for him, she knew not why, an instinctive sentiment of respect, mingled with fear, and her imagination attributed to this strange travelling-companion all the romance which the state of the case might have induced her to expect. At last the idea occurred to her that he was some subaltern agent of the Invisibles, and perhaps a faithful servant, who was afraid of violating his duty by speaking alone to her at night.
After having travelled for about two hours with great rapidity, the coach stopped in a dark wood, the relay not having come. The stranger went a few steps away, either to see if the horses were coming, or to conceal his uneasiness. Consuelo also left the carriage and walked down the road with Karl, of whom she had a thousand questions to ask.
"Thank God, signora," said her faithful attendant, "that you are alive."