For Love of a Bedouin Maid

by Voleur

A long, open wicker basket, almost as long as a coffin, and considerably broader and higher—such as is used for carrying firewood—was dragged from the corner of the booth. Then a handkerchief was tied across St. Just's eyes. They wished to gag him, but refrained on his giving his word of honor that he would not utter a sound. Then they tied his feet together, his hands being already bound. Next he was lifted into the basket, the sides and ends of which were then lined with bundles of firewood, a layer being also laid upon the top of him.

Then one of the men went away to fetch a cart. St. Just hoped the journey was not to be a long one, for already he was beginning to feel far from comfortable; he was lying on his side, his knees doubled up to his chest. Though the air was cool and fresh outside, in his cubicle, packed round, as he was, with wood, it was almost stifling, and he began to sweat profusely. Breathing became oppressive, and his limbs soon ached with cramp. Then an intolerable itching of the skin set in, and the unsatisfied desire to scratch almost drove him mad. He fancied that his sensations must be those of a person buried alive.

After enduring this for about ten minutes—but which seemed to him a good half hour—he heard a cart draw up. Then he felt that he was being carried out and hoisted into it, and that wood and charcoal—as he supposed—were being thrown in after him.

Next, one man mounted on the cart, and another placed himself beside the horse, and they moved away.

Placed as he was, it was impossible for the passenger to see whither they were going, nor could he guess at their direction. But, after jolting and bumping along what seemed to him interminable streets, he believed they had reached a city barrier. At any rate, the cart was brought to a standstill, and a colloquy took place.

It must have been satisfactory, for they soon set off again, and now proceeded for what St. Just, in his imprisonment, thought many miles along a road without a turn. Then, from the change in his position, he could feel that they were going up hill; next, after a moment's halt, they passed through a gate; he knew this because he heard the gate clang to behind them.

At last, when his sufferings from his cramped position and the difficulty of breathing had become almost insupportable, and he was feeling that, unless they should be quickly ended, he must call out, despite his word of honor to keep silent, the cart came to a final stop.

After that, his imprisonment did not last long. The basket was soon hauled out, and St. Just was lifted from it. He was in a pitiable condition; not only was his face streaming with perspiration, but he was wet through from the same cause from head to foot, and he was gasping for breath. When they untied his legs and arms, he was so stiff that it was some time before he could straighten them, and, of course, to stand was quite out of the question.

But oh! the relief of being able to breathe without restraint. He lay panting on the ground, drinking in deep draughts of fresh, cool air, seeming as though he would never have enough. In a few minutes, he became himself, except for the stiffness of his limbs; every bone in his body ached, and the pain when he tried to move was terrible.

All this time, no word had been spoken by his conductors; but, when they saw that he was breathing easily, they expressed their regret for the discomfort they had put him to, at the same time telling him that they were now in Madame de Moncourt's grounds.