Clash of Arms: A Romance

by John Bloundelle-Burton

Yet, when he had spent half an hour looking round the garret in all directions, he had to give up his search, had to acknowledge that it was unavailing. No use to look under the bare, uncovered rafters, to see if there was any entrance, however small, to some descent--there was none a cat could have crept down; no use to stamp upon the boards of the floor on which he had lain so many days and nights; they were solid oak planks, affixed to the joists below with great clove-headed nails. It would have taken an hour to get one of them from its place. Yet, fearing to miss any chance, he tried and tested each one separately.

Once he advanced to the horrid shaft--the "oubliette"--and peered down that, wondering if, there, might be the secret way. Yet, he felt sure and told himself, the way out could not be there. The great mouth of the shaft gaped black and cavernous, while, as he laid himself on the floor, and, with face over the edge, peered down into it, there came up a damp odour which seemed to tell for certain that its depth was terrible. And if it were not an "oubliette"--a "guet-apens," as he had once termed it--wherefore that mounting block which they had all had to use so recently, and why that treacherous staircase, or ladder, from above, which ended abruptly, so that the hastening victim should be plunged blindly into the abyss of the shaft below?

Yet he sounded it as well as he was able; leant over and, with his sword in his extended hand, thrust down to see if there were any ledge or bottom within reach--and found none! He discovered, too, a link of the chain which had bound him, and hurled it down, listening for the sound of its fall. But heard nothing--except that it struck once against the side, owing to his not throwing it precisely straight. Then, nothing more.

"There is no way there, except to death!" He muttered. "It is useless. As well return to the roof and await what comes. At least, Marion Wyatt will not die alone."

The flames of the south side had increased to a great extent as he regained the spot where the women were--also a soft wind was fanning them, so that now they leapt up some feet from the roof, burning clear and bright against what was still half night, half day. Standing there watching them, and watching also the direction in which the wind came, he knew that it would not be long--not an hour perhaps--ere those flames had spread to the wing where they all were.

Then the end would be very near. Well! it must be borne. There was nothing for it but that.

From these thoughts he was startled by the action of the woman, Clemence, at this moment. Startled! Amazed!

She had been sitting gazing heedlessly, almost, it might have seemed, indifferently, at those flames towards which he had at that instant turned his back to look down on Marion, when, suddenly, she removed the girl's head from her lap and rose swiftly to her feet--heedless of whether she might be seen or not by the besiegers below. Then she raised her hand--her eyes gleaming strangely as ever--and pointed away towards where the road to Remiremont ran behind the woods. The road along which Andrew had come on that night when he paid his visit of observation.

"Look," she said, and he noticed how firm and unshaken her voice was, "Look, what is that? There are none to help us; none here; not one of the Duke's men would raise a finger to help him--also they come not from where the Duke is. Yet, look. Look, I say."

Following her glance, Andrew did look. And saw that which, at first, he could not understand the meaning of. Amongst the trees, over which the wintry day had now broken, the trees which separated Bois-le-Vaux from the Remiremont road, he saw a long cavalcade of horsemen winding down from the mountain slopes. A cavalcade of horsemen which stretched on and on until several hundreds of them had descended and were still descending to the plains of Lorraine--horsemen on whose glittering corselets and backs-and-breasts and headpieces, as well as bridles and stirrups (though over many of them their long riding cloaks were thrown) the now rising winter sun sparkled. He saw, too, from the roof of the ruined house on which he stood, that, in the morning light, there fluttered the pennons of lances and banners, bearing on them devices of many kinds, guidons also, having on them a large and glittering sun; flags bearing emblems, crests, and coats-of-arms.