The Heart of Denise, and Other Tales

by S. Levett Yeats

"Why should the storm come on now? There is no breath of air stirring, and the moon is clear."

The equerry did not reply until reaching the more level ground at the foot of the incline down which we had ridden, and then, pointing behind me, said simply, "Look, madame!"

Turning, I saw that half the arc of the heavens was obscured as it were by a thick curtain, that hung heavily and sullenly over it, and as we looked a chain of fire ran across the blackness, the distant roar of thunder came to us, and then a low, deep moaning vibrated through the air.

"The storm is afoot, I fear, madame. We must press on and cross the Luxège, which though narrow enough to jump over now, may in an hour be impassable, and with the darkness it will be impossible to tell the way."

At this speech Mousette gave a little cry of alarm, and then, her fears overcoming her, began to declare that she could go no further, and begged us to leave her there to die, to be killed by the storm or eaten up by the wolves, it did not matter which, either alternative was preferable to going on. I tried all I could to pacify the poor girl, but she was getting into a state of hysterical excitement, and absolutely refused to move, though every moment was precious, and the dead stillness formerly around us was now awake with the voice of the coming storm. At last I began to despair of moving her, when Lalande said grimly, "Leave her to me, madame. I am an old married man." Then bending forward he seized my bridle and with a cool "Adieu, mademoiselle! I hope you will not disagree with the wolves," to Mousette, began to urge our beasts forward, notwithstanding my protests. But the issue showed he was right, though I confess I was surprised to see the way in which my maid recovered her strength under this rough-and-ready treatment, for in two minutes she was bustling along at our heels. But the lost time never came to our hands again, and as we began to descend the wooded slope towards the Luxège, which we could hear humming angrily below us, the stream burst with a shriek of the winds, and an absolute darkness, that was rendered more intense and horrible by the vivid flashes of lightning, and the continuous roar of thunder. In a trice Lalande had dismounted and taken us from our horses, and the poor animals seemed so overcome by fear or fatigue, or both combined, that they stood perfectly still.

"It is death, madame, attempting to ride now. We must get to the river on foot." Saying this, Lalande managed somehow to get the horses in front of us, and then, holding on to each other and guided by the incessant flashes of lightning, we began a slow and painful progress. I soon began to feel the fatigue and exhaustion so much that I, in my turn, begged Lalande to stop.

"Courage, madame, 'tis but a few yards more to the river bank," he answered, "there we can stop and rest," and I took my heart up and strove onwards once again. At last, when within a few yards of the river, I sank down utterly exhausted and unable to move further, and Mousette alternately sobbed and prayed over me, whilst now and again I could see the tall figure of Lalande standing grim and motionless, and once I fancied I heard a deep oath.

He gave us some cognac from a flask he carried, and then there was nothing for it but to wait and meet death, if it was so to be. Now there came a series of lightning flashes that lit up the terrific scene, and I almost gasped, for right before me on a butting crag I made out a small castle. Lalande saw it too, for he blew long and shrilly on his horn, and then we watched and waited for a time that seemed interminable, when all at once the flare of a huge beacon rose bright and red against the darkness, and an answering bugle reached our ears. Lalande blew again, and to our joy there was a reply. Strength came back to me with the prospect of safety, and rising to my feet I called to Lalande: "On! On!"

He answered, "The river, madame----"

I looked, and saw below me a white lashing flood that swung and swirled past with a savage roar. The lightning showed us the angry water, and the wicked dancing foam, that seemed to leap up in delight at the prospect of the black swirl below it dragging us down to death. Then again we heard the bugle notes, and saw the lights of torches, and heard the shouting of men from the opposite bank.