Clash of Arms: A Romance

by John Bloundelle-Burton

But now he almost laughed aloud as a new thought, or memory, rose to his mind. The memory of what description of revenge he had meditated on the woman when he supposed her to be as equally guilty as the man. A determination to carry her off from him as that man had carried her off from Philip, or to find her and, in some way, steal her love from De Bois-Vallée; to pretend love for her until her own was won--then to break her heart and fling her away. All this he had thought of doing, or of attempting to do, and had pondered on how it should be done, and now--now--instead--he was seeking her so that he might save her. He had reason to laugh at the change that had come into his heart.

The October night was setting in and the evening vapours arising amongst the great beech and fir trees on the mountain slopes, as Andrew reached the top of the pass and stood upon the level of the summit; seeing as he did so--through the rime and dank mist made by the dripping trees--that the track ran flat for some distance now. Whereon he set to work to calculate if it were possible for him to descend into the plains of Lorraine that night--to reflect also if it would be best to do so.

"I know naught of Remiremont," he reflected, "nor whether 'tis large or small--a place where a stranger may shelter himself without attracting attention, or be the object of all eyes by appearing there. I would I did so know, could see the place ere arriving at it."

Also, he reflected, he had to find out where this man for whom he sought dwelt. It might be, he knew, that he would have some great mansion in the town itself, or, which would be far better, that he lived in some outlying manor or grange.

"For then," he thought, "I could better find an entrance to it, bring myself face to face with him. Could summon him to come forth and meet me, or, stealing in, confront him. Yet, whichever it be, I will find him. Even though he is surrounded by servitors I will get at him, have him point to point at last."

And as he said these words he determined to push on along the track once more, in the hope that, at least, the descent might soon begin.

He found, however, that he could of necessity go but little further that night. From the herbage at his feet there was rising now so strong and penetrating a mist that, already, it was difficult for him to follow the track; soon that mist would be a mountain fog enveloping everything and preventing further progress, and he recognized the unpleasantness of the situation. He was on the top of the mountains without so much as a cave to shelter him or his horse, and there he would doubtless have to stay until daylight--unless the fog which was thickening every moment should clear suddenly away, and the moon, which he remembered rose late, come forth. Stay there while both he and his beast would become chilled to the bone, so that in the morning they must be stiff with cold and cramp.

"A cheering prospect, truly," he thought, while as he did so he took from his valise his flask and some bread, and, having drunk a little spirit, moistened a portion of the bread with it and gave it to the horse, "a cheering prospect! Fore gad! I begin to think I am no wary campaigner after all, to be thus caught without a retreat. Yet that vagabond, my host of the Golden Hart, said the passage of the mountains might be made ere nightfall. It seems he was a liar, or I have come too slow."

Now, in truth, Muhlenbein had in this case told him no lie, since the passage of the Vosges from some parts of Alsace to the other side of the mountains was possible in a day--though not such short days as those of October; moreover, Andrew had set out late, it being ten in the morning ere he had left the Goldener Hirsch. But, if the man had not deceived Andrew in this manner he had in another, since, for his own selfish ends and to keep him longer at the inn, whereby he might be induced to make further purchases and to part with some more of his gold pieces, he had grievously lied when he said there was no accommodation to be found on the road. For--unless his memory was exceedingly treacherous!--he should have remembered that there were shepherds' and goatherds' huts at frequent intervals on the summit of the mountains, while but a little divergence from that summit and an earlier descent would have brought the traveller to St. Dié or Epinal. But doubtless his greed prompted his forgetfulness, or, to do him justice, he may have thought Andrew would not care to branch off to either of those places.

Therefore the latter soon found that, for certain, Muhlenbein was wrong when he said there was no shelter but that of the mountain pines to be found on the road, since now, as he led his horse along the level flat, and felt with his feet at every step to make sure that he kept the hard and beaten track, he distinctly heard voices ahead of him--voices that, from the dull and muffled manner in which they reached his ears, came undoubtedly from within some walls. Then, still feeling his way carefully over the soft and sodden chaume, on which both his and the horse's feet trod noiselessly, and directing their footsteps off the path towards the spot whence the sound of the voices came, he found himself outside a long low hut, as he concluded it to be--a hut from which a murky gleam of light was visible in the fog, proceeding evidently from some opening that served as a window.