"It will never succeed," the first of these two said; "never, never," and he laughed. "We, we of the king's forces, shall be driven back by these vile fanatics, or led into a snare, or guet-apens up in the mountains. And then woe, woe to all! Not one will return to the valleys, to the towns, to tell the tale."
Yet as he spoke, uttered such predictions of disaster, it seemed almost as though he gloated over the picture he drew.
And still Martin saw ever before him the terrified face of Urbaine Ducaire peering from behind the far-off door, the eyes glaring into the room like the eyes of one who knows that behind her comes some awful thing. With, in them, too, as it seemed to him, a piteous glance, a glance of agony that she could not attract the gaze of the man she sought--the commandant.
He could bear it no longer. Somehow he must reach her, communicate with her, know what it was that has struck such fear into her soul.
An excuse for him to leave the table seemed easy. The room had grown very hot. Already the nephew of De Broglie had protested he must remove his great wig. The commandant had said they must have air.
"I will go and open the door," Martin said, rising from his place. To open the windows would have been impossible since they were set high up in the walls, as was the case in most châteaux of the day, and could not be reached without a ladder. "The one at the farther end." And as he went toward it he prayed Heaven none would follow him. Also he saw that the girl's face was withdrawn as he rose from his chair, the door closed-to gently. Then, a moment later, he reached it.
Setting it open, he glanced into the narrow passage that ran outside, the farthest wall of this corridor having several low windows in it which gave on to the courtyard; and, turning his eyes into its dimness, he perceived Urbaine standing there, her back against the wall, her arms extended droopingly against it too, as though thereby to prevent herself from falling.
"Mademoiselle," he said, in a low voice, advancing toward her, "mademoiselle, what has distressed, terrified you thus? I fear that----"
Was she gone mad, he wondered! As he spoke she put both her hands out in front of her, removing them from the wall and extending them from her body as though to ward him off, to defend herself from him. Also she pressed her body back against that wall as if thereby she might shrink into it--away from him.
"Mademoiselle!" he exclaimed, amazed. "Mademoiselle----" but paused again, for still she drew herself away from him as from some unclean, loathsome thing. Then her white lips moved; he heard the words that issued from them.