“One more week of work, and we can stay here as long as this island stays.”
But those last days were the most important of all. Work relaxed not, and our time of rest in the evening was to be shortened still more. And on this evening, as Gaston Cheverny sat in the twilight on the terrace, all of us listening to his singing, after a day of labor, and a night of toil to come, Gaston stopped suddenly, rising to his feet—and so rose Count Saxe and all of us. For in the gray evening we saw on the mainland a moving mass, like a huge black serpent, unfolding itself from the distant woods and boscage upon the open country. The Russians were upon us.
Instantly all was life and movement. Count Saxe did not, even in that moment, forget Francezka, for tapping at her window, he said, when she appeared:
“Mademoiselle, here are our friends, the Russians. Be not alarmed; there is a place of safety for you below the terrace if there should be fighting.”
“I am not alarmed, Monsieur,” quietly replied Francezka. She had been reading by the light of a single candle that volume of Villon which Gaston Cheverny had carried in his pocket or at his saddle bow ever since we left France. She kept her finger at the page, and spoke in a calm voice, although she grew a little pale. “Whenever and wherever you will have me go, I am ready.”
As Gaston Cheverny said, she was the most docile creature alive when real danger was at hand. She knew how to obey like a soldier, and as she came of good soldierly stock, this was not strange.
The Russians, however, having now got within hearing of us, sounded a parley on the trumpet. Count Saxe instantly determined to send Gaston Cheverny to 126 the parley. Gaston had picked up some understanding of the Russian language while we were at Mitau, and especially while he was with Pintsch’s highwaymen, and had been artful enough to conceal it. So, Gaston, with a small escort, put off in a boat to meet the Russian envoys. The main body had halted about a mile from the shore, while we could see, by the starlight, a considerable number of them, presumably officers, making for the point of land which dipped into the lake.
We were all at our posts awaiting the outcome quietly. But one more week, and we should have been secure! Now, we were very far from secure; and we waited for Gaston Cheverny’s return and the news he might bring to know whether we should have a chance to fight, or be marched off to Russian prisons—as we supposed. As for Francezka—it was not yet time for her to seek a safe place—she came to the window and stood there in the half darkness, her one candle being out.
I made bold for once to go up and speak to her without being invited.