THERE was unfortunately no reason to doubt the correctness of the ominous news, and for a moment Gerard looked very grave when he learnt that the approaching force numbered between fifty and a hundred troops.
“Are there likely to be any of our own men?” he asked Pascal.
“I fear not. Bassot told me that they were not held of much use in this search work owing to their ignorance of the place.”
“Yet we might venture it. It would be a stroke. What say you, Pascal? Shall we let them all enter and risk a struggle to capture them? We should get some of the arms we want so badly. They are all carrying muskets.”
“That is more like you, Gerard,” cried Pascal enthusiastically. “A stroke worth making, indeed, and if well planned easy enough.”
“Quick, then. Here is the plan. Post men to command the great hall; it is there we may take the main body of them, and dispose the rest as secretly as you can in the upper floors. Let no one but men of the household be about when they come to the door. Let them show fear and surprise, and, delaying as long as they can in safety, admit at last that we are in the house. The soldiers will not all enter at once, but if a search has to be made for us, most of them will have to be brought in for it. Let the search go on, and when the soldiers are straggled in parties over the house, we can deal with them. Mademoiselle de Malincourt and Lucette must go to the chapel crypt to be ready to fly should the plan fail.”
“One suggestion I have,” said Pascal quickly. “The shrewdest tongue in Malincourt is between Mademoiselle Lucette’s white teeth, and if she would meet the men on their entry she would be best for the purpose.”
“I will sound her. Go you and post the men,” and Gerard hurried back to Gabrielle and Lucette and explained his scheme. Lucette gladly agreed to play the part asked, and listened carefully as Gerard gave her all the necessary instructions.
“Delay them all you can,” he said. “Every minute is precious. There are but some two hours now to dark, and if we can hold the place through the night the delay may save everything.”
He led Gabrielle to the chapel crypt while Lucette ran down to the great hall to wait for the coming of the troops. Their own men were hurrying to their hiding places under the directions of Pascal and the officers, all laughing gleefully enough at the prospect of the coming tussle. But the dispositions were made very rapidly, and Lucette had been alone some minutes before the tramp of the men outside was heard, followed by a loud summons for admission.
Lucette told one of the servants to open the door, and he was pushed brusquely to one side as an officer with some dozen men filed into the house.
Lucette gave a cry of surprise and alarm.
“What is the meaning of this, monsieur?” she asked.
“I am sorry if I disturb you, mademoiselle,” said the officer, saluting her, “but my orders are imperative.”
“Are you going to shoot us all, monsieur?” He was young and good-looking she found, as she brought the battery of her eyes into action, and he answered her smile with another.
“Not quite that, mademoiselle; pray be reassured. But some strange things have happened——”
“This is surely one of them, monsieur,” she interposed, with a shrug of her pretty shoulders and a little grimace of dismay.
“You know that we are looking for some prisoners who escaped last night from the Castle and——”
“Prisoners! And you look for them in Malincourt. Monsieur!” Admirably assumed indignation it was, and every interruption meant a gain of time. “Do you think we harbour thieves and malefactors here?”
“These are no ordinary prisoners, mademoiselle,” he replied with another smile. He found Lucette’s eyes very pleasing to gaze into.
“And you are no ordinary thief-catcher, monsieur. A gallant captain like yourself must find such work little to your taste.”
“We have to obey orders, mademoiselle.”
“And frighten poor girls out of their wits, it seems. I thought all soldiers were as gallant as most of them are handsome,” and she pointed this with a very telling glance.
“You need be in no fear, mademoiselle, if you will but let us do our duty.”
“Then you are not going to arrest me?” and she laughed, and added as she made more havoc with her eyes: “I think I could trust myself to you, monsieur.”
“Is Mademoiselle de Malincourt here?”
“Mademoiselle de Malincourt!” This in a tone of intense astonishment. “What will you ask me next? Is she one of your escaped prisoners?” and Lucette burst into a peal of merry laughter.
“His Excellency the Governor is anxious to see her at the Castle, and we are to escort her there.”
“You speak in riddles, monsieur. Do you mean that the Duke de Rochelle invites guests to the Castle with a file of soldiers to see that they accept the invitation? Surely I am dreaming.”
“One of the prisoners who escaped was a friend of mademoiselle, and she is asked for at the Castle in regard to the matter.”
“Oh, you mean you would make her a prisoner. Then, if she were here, I would refuse to tell you.”
“It will be better to answer me directly,” said the officer.
“Did you ever know a woman who could, monsieur?”
“By your leave I must press for a decided reply to my question.”
“And by your leave I deny your right to question me and expect any reply.”
“As you please, of course,” he answered courteously. “There is another matter. A guard of men was left here this morning when the house had been searched——”
“Searched?” broke in Lucette. “Searched? Malincourt searched! There has been no search of Malincourt while I have been here. True, I was absent in attendance upon the Duchess de Rochelle this morning, but Malincourt searched! Surely you are misinformed.”
“It is as I say. The house was searched in the belief that the prisoners were here, or Mademoiselle de Malincourt herself, and a guard was left in case they should seek refuge here.”
“Mademoiselle de Malincourt seek refuge in her own house! Monsieur!”
“I think you must know of this,” he answered smiling.
“I am sure you are too frank to deceive me. I would trust you.”
“You are very good. I do not like this errand, it is true, but I have no option save to perform it.”
“I can understand that, monsieur,” she said, with a glance that made him wish any one else had been chosen for the task. “You have too good a heart to wish to frighten a poor girl like myself, or to persecute a noble innocent girl like Mademoiselle de Malincourt.”
“Several messengers have been sent here during the day and none of them have returned. I have come therefore to learn the reason.”
“Certainly, monsieur. It is very strange,” and Lucette looked at him, almost sympathetically. “What do you wish me to do?”
“I must see the guard for myself, mademoiselle.”
“Certainly, monsieur. Where are they?”
“Pardon me. You are either keeping matters from me—which I assure you will be useless—or you are strangely ignorant of what has occurred here.”
“I think it must be both, monsieur, don’t you?” and they laughed together at the reply.
“I beg you tell me.”
“Oh, am I the guard? Very well. What shall I tell you?”
He made a gesture of impatience.
“Where are the soldiers? My orders are to use all despatch.”
“Oh, then I am not the guard,” she cried with a laugh, and then seriously: “I give you my word, monsieur, I have been in the house some hours and have seen neither the guard nor the messengers.”
“Have you seen the prisoners, mademoiselle?”
“Monsieur. That question is almost an insult!”
“I mean no insult to so charming a lady, I assure you; but you leave me no option save to search the house.”
“What, again?” she cried in a merry bantering tone. “I did not know the great Duke was organizing a game of hide and go seek. But, seriously, monsieur, do you think your party is strong enough? We have a number of very savage old men among the Malincourt retainers, and some younger girls than I.”
“There will be none prettier, mademoiselle, and none with more biting tongues. I should wish to do it with the least inconvenience.”
“Then I beg you have in all your men and search all the wings at once,” said Lucette quickly. “I shall see you again when it is over,” a true saying with another meaning than the young officer understood, and she went away, having successfully used up an invaluable half-hour.
Pascal and Gerard had heard it all from their post above stairs and were ready with their plans. The officer lost no time now in bringing in all but a dozen of his party, and he despatched them through the house with orders to search every room closely from roof to cellars, thus falling straight into the trap laid for him and them.
He himself remained below by the door until he heard the scuffling sound of a struggle somewhere on an upper floor. A voice called to him: “They are here, lieutenant,” and at that he dashed up the stairs, the rest of his men close at his heels.
It was but a ruse to draw him away, and the moment he had gone, Gerard sent a man to the door who beckoned excitedly to the troops outside to enter, and as they dashed in, mistaking the man for one of their comrades, they were seized, disarmed and hurried away in custody—the blow being cleverly, quickly, and almost silently struck.
Another false alarm was now raised in a different wing of the house, and those soldiers who rushed to follow the sound were caught in the same way. Other false alarms followed in various directions, until the searchers, utterly bewildered and confused, ran first one way and then another, only to be caught in the net so warily and cleverly spread.
At length the young officer with the remainder came down to the central hall, and with a ringing shout called his men to him. At this Pascal stepped toward him.
“I am sorry, monsieur, but I have found it necessary to detain your men for a time.”
At a word from the officer every musket was levelled point blank at him, but he remained perfectly cool.
“Who are you?” demanded the officer. “But whoever you are, you are my prisoner, and if you move my men will fire.”
“Your men can fire if you order, monsieur,” answered Pascal calmly, “but it will be quite useless. You are covered by forty muskets,” and he waved his hand round the place where his soldiers now showed themselves. “For your own sake I urge you to avoid bloodshed.”
“By God, I’ll not be trapped like this,” cried the officer furiously, and drawing his sword he rushed to cut Pascal down.
“I am unarmed and you are too brave a man to strike me,” said Pascal very quietly, as with folded arms he awaited the attack, looking him steadily in the face.
His daring had its effect, and his opponent’s arm dropped even as he was in the act of striking, and the next moment he and his men were surrounded by three times their number.
“I owe you an explanation, monsieur,” said Pascal. “Those you seek are here in Malincourt, and it was impossible to allow you to obey your orders. We are in strong force and, save for this ruse, we should have resisted to the death. As it is, no harm will come either to you or your men. On that you have my word as a soldier. But for the present at least we cannot let you carry news back to the Castle. You will give me your word not to resist or try to escape, and I will not ask you for your sword. Your men’s muskets we have had to take, as we are short of arms.”
The officer made a great effort to imitate Pascal’s coolness, but he was very young, and this humiliation before his men was unendurable. He had to struggle for self-control and well nigh broke down.
“I give no parole,” he said, his lips trembling.
“I respect your courage,” said Pascal, with both dignity and feeling, “and I beg you to spare me the distress of resorting to the only alternative.”
“Not the only alternative, by God,” cried the officer desperately, and turning suddenly he hurled himself at the soldiers who stood between him and the door.
But they were tough campaigners, much too wary to be caught by surprise, and in an instant his sword was knocked out of his hand by a blow from a clubbed musket which disabled his arm and he found himself in the grip of those who knew how to hold him.
“I am very sorry, monsieur, but the fault is with you,” said Pascal, and with a sign to the men he was led away. As he passed, Lucette met him, but he would not look at her, and hung his head that she might not see the traces of mortification in his face.
“I am sorry, monsieur,” she said gently, “but I was fighting for those dearer to me than life.”
“I do not fight with women, mademoiselle, and pardon your deceit.”
“But you are hurt; let me bind your arm,” she said solicitously, seeing that it dangled at his side.
He drew himself up and looked at her steadily as he replied—
“Thank you, mademoiselle; the wound to my arm is nothing, but you have killed my trust in the word of a beautiful woman,” and he signed to the men in charge of him to take him on.
“I am sorry for him,” she said to Pascal.
“He brought it on himself, the hot-headed young fool,” was the reply.
“How brave you are, monsieur! I saw him rush at you and believed he would have killed you. And you were so cool.”
“We had to avoid bloodshed, somehow, and thank God we did so. And now, what will be the next move from the Castle when this party like the rest don’t return? How shrewdly you held him in talk, mademoiselle. You wasted half an hour at least, and now another is gone. It will be dark before the Duke gets here after all.”
“I am almost ashamed of my part,” murmured Lucette.
“Nay, ’tis all fair in war, and—some other things. But I am getting more afraid of you than ever,” answered Pascal, laughing and turning to meet Gerard, who had been to tell Gabrielle the news, and now came up with her. She congratulated Pascal on the success.
“We are strong enough now to hold the place throughout the night,” said Pascal to Gerard.
“Strong enough, too, to speak with force behind us. If the Governor comes, I shall declare myself to him.”
“He will come after this,” said Pascal drily. “And while the light remains with us we can best use it by settling the plan of defence.”
They were engaged in this when, as the dusk was falling, the approach of more troops was announced. The house was soon found to be surrounded and the Governor himself was seen, with de Proballe at his side, giving orders to the troops.
After some anxious minutes a demand that the door should be opened was made in a loud voice. No answer was returned, and a second demand followed, accompanied with the threat that it would be forced.
Then Pascal showed himself at an upper window.
“By what right do you threaten force?” he asked.
“I threaten it,” cried the Duke, “as Governor of Morvaix.”
“You have no right, my lord Duke. I am holding it by command of the Lord Gerard de Bourbon under the authority of your Suzerain, the Duke de Bourbon, whose officer I am.”
“Where is this Lord Gerard?”
“I am here,” said Gerard, stepping forward.
The Governor laughed contemptuously, and de Proballe joined him.
“Come out to me, then, that I may pay my homage,” he sneered. “Why didn’t you announce yourself before, that I might have rendered it when you were a prisoner in the Castle?”
“I shall receive your homage in my own time, and when I come for it it will be with sufficient force at my back to exact it.”
“Your noble lordship’s caution is timely, yet a little suspicious, considering all things. If you will not come out to me, open the door of Malincourt that I may come in to you. I am more than wishful to render you your due. I am anxious, I promise you.”
“I am the bearer of a despatch to your lordship from my father, which will prove the commission I hold from him.”
“By all means bring it me.”
“I am sending it that you may see great Bourbon’s seal and signature,” and as he spoke a young lieutenant who had left the house secretly made his way toward the Governor and handed him the paper.
The Governor took it with a scowl and glanced at it.
“Have you any other forgeries?” he demanded.
“I await your answer and submission.”
“Submission, in God’s name! And pray what are your noble lordship’s commands for me?”
“That you at once dismiss the force that you have wrongfully brought against this house and leave me and all here in peace.”
“Hell’s peace!” roared the Governor. “Here is my answer,” and he tore the paper in two and flung it into the messenger’s face, bidding two of the soldiers seize him. “I have a further answer yet. If you do not surrender yourself and all in the house within an hour, I will order my troops to take it by force and burn it as the refuge of a murderer.”
“We are in great strength, and shall resist you. You will refuse my demands at your peril.”
The Governor’s reply was a threat, emphasized with an oath as he wheeled his horse round and rode off.
“There goes the last chance of avoiding a conflict,” said Pascal, as he and Gerard watched him.
“I am not so sure,” answered Gerard thoughtfully. “We have taken him by surprise and set him a problem, and he is not so dull-witted as to think the solution can be found with just a threat and a curse.”