"Nephew," said I, "do you go on and leave me here."
It was then that my horse fell, and rolling heavily in the snow I thought that my end had come. Léon, however, had a flask of brandy in his haversack, and presently I was conscious of a burning sensation in my throat and of a sudden realisation of the truth that I must wake or die. Making a mighty effort of the will, I got upon my feet and struggled on, hardly knowing that Valerie St. Antoine had one of my arms and Léon the other. The words they spoke to me were as sounds from afar; I did not rightly understand them, and made no reply. But presently, a little strength coming back to me, I heard a note of distant music, and asked them what it was.
"Listen to that," said I. "Someone is playing the organ."
They laughed at me, Léon saying, "Come, come, uncle, your ears are playing tricks with you; there is no organ here."
"You are wrong," said I; "there is an organ, and someone is playing 'On va leur percer les flancs.' Listen and you will heal it."
Well, they both stood and listened, and after a few moments they admitted I was right.
"There is someone playing," said Léon, while Valerie uttered a little cry of pleasure, and running forward with her hands clasped, she returned to tell us that it must be the organ of a church and that we should never hear it on such a night if it were not very near to us. On this we all agreed, and a new hope animating us, we led Léon's horse and pressed on towards the music.
Ah, what a quest that was! How those phantom chords deceived us! Sometimes we would think the organ was so near us that nothing but a miracle could hide the scene. Then again we would lose the sounds altogether, and try to comfort each other with the assurance that the wind alone muffled them. This went on for a full half-hour, until as though a miracle had happened, we found ourselves in the very porch of a considerable church, and understood in a moment that our own fellows were within, and that one of them was playing upon the organ.
"Open to the Guard!" cried Léon, beating heavily upon the door with the hilt of his sword.
The answer from within was the one we had heard so often that night: "Let the Guard go elsewhere, there is no room for anybody here."