“Rack for the one, my lord, and the weights for the priest,” answered
Pierre, so glibly and readily that de Proballe never thought he was
lying. “The Governor is full of impatience, my lord,” he added; and de
Proballe hurried away, making an excuse to his companion.
“What is the trouble, captain?” asked Pierre.
“A quarrel with some of the new soldiers which will end in work for
you, I fancy, Pierre.”
“It seems serious, captain; and I’ve work enough with my last birds not
to need more. They are to be questioned to-night.”
“Who are they, Pierre?” asked the officer eagerly.
“If you will walk with me I’ll tell you. I am seeking the surgeon.”
He led the officer away with this pretext, and the doorway being thus
cleared, Gerard and the others ran down into the courtyard.
“Which way now?” asked Dubois.
“I can find the road,” said Gerard. “But where is Pierre? We cannot
leave him after what he has done.”
“If we wait for him we shall have the place swarming with men,”
answered Dubois.
And this seemed true enough indeed. Attracted by the news of the
fighting, soldiers were beginning to pour out of the doorways into the
courtyard, laughing and oathing as they ran in the direction of the now
receding sounds of conflict; and Gerard saw to his disquiet that the
stream was setting in the direction of that part of the walls through
which he hoped to make his escape.
“Pascal has had to retreat,” he said. “But we must go. Pierre or no
Pierre,” and giving a last glance for the absent gaoler he set off at a
brisk pace across the courtyard.
No one seemed to heed them and they were turning a corner of the
building when Pierre came running after them.
“This way, my lord; not a moment must be lost,” he said, breathing
hard. “I had to get rid of the captain yonder and to find you swords.
There may be some fighting to be done.”
They raced along for a short distance at full speed, Pierre guiding
them through deserted ways until at a turn of the walls they came in
full view of the fighting, when Pierre stopped abruptly.
“We are too late,” he said hurriedly. “It would be madness to attempt
it. See, they are already close to the breach.”
He was right, as Gerard recognized at a glance.
“What can we do?” he asked. “Is there another spot by which we can get
out?”
“I know of none, my lord.”
“How say you, Dubois? Dare we risk it?”
“With mademoiselle it is hopeless,” he replied.
“Then leave me, Gerard. You can get through alone, and I can find my
way safely either to the Duchess or out through the main gateway. No
one will stop me.”
“You wrong me in that thought, mademoiselle,” said Dubois hastily and
earnestly. “God forbid that I should think of leaving you.”
“We would not dream of it,” declared Gerard. “We must wait where we are
until matters have quieted down, and then go.”
“There is an old guard-house close by, my lord, where we can wait
unseen,” said Pierre. “Unused now, save as a storehouse for the
workmen.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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