 Chapter 4 Part 2 of THE BRONZ EGLE by Baroness Orksie This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Dion Jain's Celtic City, Utah. Her face looked grave and even anxious, but wonderfully serene. This should have been her wedding morning. The bells of Old Bristolow Church should even now have been ringing out their first joyous peel to announce the great event. Often and often in the past few weeks, ever since her father had formally betrothed her to Victor de Marmont, she had thought of this coming morning and sealed herself to be brave against the fateful day. She had been resigned to the decree of the father and to the necessities of family and name, resigned but terribly heart-sore. She was obeying of her own free will, but not blindly. She knew that her marriage to a man whom she did not love was a sacrifice on her part of every hope of future happiness. Her girlish love for St. Janus had opened her eyes to the possibilities of happiness. She knew that life could hold out a veritable cornucopia of delight and joy in a union which was hallowed by love, and her ready sacrifice was therefore all the greater, all the more sublime, because it was not offered up in ignorance. But all that now was changed. She was once more free to indulge in those dreams which had gladdened the days and nights of her lonely girlhood out in far-off England, dreams which somehow had not even found their culmination when St. Janus first told her of his love for her. They had always been golden dreams which had haunted her in those distant days, dreams of future happiness and of love which are seldom absent from a young girl's mind, especially if she is a little lonely, has few pleasures, and is surrounded with an atmosphere of sadness. Crystal de Cambre, standing on the parin of her stately home, felt but little sorrow at leaving it today. She had hardly had the time in one brief year to get very much attached to it. The sense of unreality which had been born in her when her father led her through its vast halls and stately parks had never entirely left her. The little home in England, the tiny sitting-room with its bow window, and small front garden edged with dusty evergreens was far more real to her even now. She felt as if the last year with its pomp and gloomy magnificence was all a dream, and that she was once more on the threshold of reality now, on the point of waking, when she would find herself once more in her narrow iron bed and see the patched and darned muslin curtains gently waving in the draft. But for the moment she was glad enough to give herself to the delight of this sudden consciousness of freedom. She sniffed the sharp frosty air with dilated nostrils like a young Arab filly that sensed the illimitable vastness of meadowland around her. The excitement of the coming adventure thrilled her. She watched with glowing eyes the preparations for the journey, the bestowal under the cushions of the carriage of the money which was to help King Louis to preserve his throne. In a sense she was sorry that her father and her aunt were coming too. She would have loved to fly across country as a trusted servant of her king. But when the time came to make a start she took her place in the big traveling coach with a light heart and a merry face. She was so sure of the justice of the king's cause, so convinced of God's wrath against the usurper that she had no room in her thoughts for apprehension or sadness. The comp de Cambre, on the other hand, was grave and taciturn. He had spent hours last evening on the ramparts of Grenoble. He had watched the dissatisfaction of the troops grow into open rebellion and, from that, to burning enthusiasm for the Corsican ogre. St. Genes had given him a vivid account of the encounter at Le Fray, and his ears were still ringing with the cries of Viva la Emperor, which had filled the streets and ramparts of Grenoble until he himself fled back to his own chateau, sickened at all that he had seen and heard. He knew that the king's own brother, Messor Lacombe de Artois, was at Lyons even now with forty thousand men who were reputed to be loyal, but were not the troops of Grenoble reputed to be loyal to, and was it likely that the regiments at Lyons would behave so very differently to those at Grenoble? Thus the wearisome journey northwards in the lumbering carriage proceeded mostly in silence. None of the occupants seemed to have much to say. Madame Laduches de Agene and Messor Lacombe sat on the back seats, leaning against the cushions. Christel de Cambre and ever-faithful Jean sat in front, making themselves as comfortable as they could. There was a halt for a déjeuner and change of horses at Reeves, and here Maurice de St. Jeunesse overtook the party. He proposed to continue the journey as far as Lyons on horseback, riding close by the offside of the carriage. Here, as well as at the next halt at St. André Legaz, Maurice tried to get speech with Christel, but she seemed cold in manner and unresponsive to his whispered words. He tried to approach her, but she pleaded fatigue and anxiety, and he was glad, then, that he had made arrangements not to travel beside her in the lumbering coach. His position on horseback beside the carriage would, he felt, be a more romantic one, and he half-hoped that some enterprising foot-pad would give him a chance of displaying his pluck and his devotion. A start was made from St. André Legaz at six o'clock in the afternoon. Christel was getting very cramped and tired. Even the fine views over the range of the Grand Chartreuse and the long white plateau of the Dent des Croiles, with the wintery sunset behind it, failed to enchain her attention. Her father and her aunt slept most of the time, each in a corner of the carriage, and after the start from St. André Legaz, comforted with hot coffee and fresh bread and the prospect of Lyons now only some sixty kilometers away, Christel settled herself against the cushions and tried to get some sleep. The incessant shaking of the carriage, the rattle of harness and wheels, the cracking of the postillian's whips all contributed to making her head ache and to chase slumber away, but gradually her thoughts became more confused as the dim winter twilight gradually faded into night and a veil of impenetrable blackness spread itself outside the windows of the coach. The northeasterly wind had not abated. It whistled mournfully through the cracks in the woodwork of the carriage and made the windows rattle in their framework. On the box the coachman had much adieu to see well ahead of him as the vapor which rose from the flanks and shoulders of his steaming horses effectually blurred every outline on the road. The carriage lengthorns through a weird and feeble light upon the ever-growing darkness. To right and left the bare and frozen common land stretched its lonely vastness to some distant horizon unseen. Suddenly the cumbrous vehicle gave a terrific lurch which sent the unsuspecting gene flying into Madame Laduchess's lap and through crystal with equal violence against her father's knees. There was much cracking of whips, loud calls and louder oaths from coachmen and postillians, much creaking and groaning of wheels. Another lurch, more feeble this time, more groaning, more creaking, more oaths, and finally the coach with a final quivering as it were of all its parts settled down to an ominous standstill. Whereafter the oaths sounded more muffled while there was a scampering down from the high altitude of the coachman's box and a confused murmur of voices. It was then close on eight o'clock, lions was distant, still some dozen miles or so, and the night by now was darker than pitch. Messor Lacompt, roused from fitful slumbers and trying to gather his wandering wits, put his head out of the window. What is it, Pierre? he called out loudly. What has happened? It's this confounded ditch, Messor Lacompt, came in a gruff voice from out the darkness. I didn't know the bridge had entirely broken down. This suck-rate government will not look after the roads properly. Are you there, Maurice? called Lacompt. But strangely enough there came no answer to his call. Messor de St. Genes must have fallen back some little distance in the rear, else he surely would have heard something of the clatter, the shouts, and the swearing, which were attending the present unfortunate contratempts. Maurice, where are you? called Lacompt again, and still no answer. Pierre was continuing his audible mutterings, darkness as black as— then he shouted with a yet more forcible volley of oaths. Jean, you oaf, get hold of the off-mere, can't you? And you, what's your name, you fool? Ease the near-gelding, heavens above, what dolt's? Stop a moment, cried Messor Lacompt. Wait till the ladies can get out. This pulling and lurching is unbearable. Ease a moment, commanded Pierre stulledly. Go to the near door, Jean, and help the master out of the carriage. Hark! what was that? It was Messor Lacompt who spoke. There had been a momentary lull in the creaking and groaning of the wheels, while the two young postillions obeyed the coachman's orders to ease a moment, and one of them came round to help the ladies and his master out of the lurching vehicle. Only the horses snorting, the champing of their bits and pying of the hard ground, broke the silence of the night. Messor Lacompt had opened the near door and was half out of the carriage, when a sound caught his ear, which was in no way connected with the stranded vehicle and its team of snorting horses. Yet the sound came from horses, horses which were on the move not very far away, and which even now seemed to be coming nearer. Who goes there? Maurice is that you? called Messor Lacompt more loudly. Stand and deliver, came the peremptory response. Stand yourself, or I fire, retorted the comppt, who was already groping for the pistol which he kept inside the carriage. You murderous villain came with the inevitable string of oaths from Pierre the coachman. You, the rest of this forceful expletive, was broken and muffled. Evidently Pierre had been summarily gagged. There was a short, sharp scuffle somewhere on ahead. Cries for help from the two postillions which were equally sharply smothered. The horses began rearing and plunging. One of you at the leader's heads came in a clear voice, which in this impenetrable darkness sounded weirdly familiar to the occupants of the carriage, who, odd, terrified by this unforeseen attack, sat motionless, clinging to one another inside the vehicle. Alone the comppt had not lost his presence of mind. Already he had jumped out of the carriage, banging the door, too, behind him, despite feeble protest from his sister. Pistol in hand he tried with anxious eyes to pierce the inky blackness around him. A muffled groan on his right caused him to turn in that direction. Release my coachman, he called peremptorily, or I fire. Easy, Missour Lecompt came as a sharp warning out of the night in those same weirdly familiar tones. As like as not, you would be shooting your own men in this infernal darkness. Who is it? whispered crystal hoarsely. I seem to know that voice. God protect us, murmur gene. It's the devil's voice, mademoiselle. Madame Laduchess said nothing. No doubt she, too, was frightened to speak. Her thin, bony fingers were clasped tightly round her niece's hands. Suddenly there was another scuffle by the door, the sharp report of a pistol. And then that strangely familiar voice called out again. Merely as a matter of form, Missour Lecompt. You will hang for this, you rogue, came in response from Lecompt. But already, crystal had torn her hands out of Madame Laduchess's grasp, and now was struggling to free herself from gene's terrified and clinging embrace. Father, she cried wildly. Maurice, Maurice, help, let me go, gene, they are hurting him. She had succeeded in pushing gene roughly away, and already had her hand on the door when it was opened from the outside, and the flickering light of a carriage lanthorn fell full on the interior of the vehicle. Neither crystal nor Madame Laduchess could effectually suppress a sudden gasp of terror, whilst gene threw her shawl right over her head, for of a truth she thought that here was the devil himself. The light illumined the lanthorn bearer only fitfully, but to the terror-stricken women he appeared to be preternaturally tall and broad, with wide-caped coat pulled up to his ears and an old-fashioned tricorn hat on his head. His face was entirely hidden by a black mask and his hands by black kid gloves. I pray you, ladies, he said quietly, and this time the voice was obviously disguised and quite unrecognizable. I pray you have no fear, neither I nor my men will do you or yours the slightest harm if you will allow me, without any molestation on your part, to make an examination of the interior of your carriage. Madame Laduchess and gene remained silent, the one from fear, the other from dignity, but it was not in Crystal's nature to submit quietly to any unlawful coercion. This is an infamy, she protested loudly, and you, my man, will swing on the nearest gallows for it. No doubt I should, if I were found out, said the man imperturbably, but the military patrols of Messor Lecompte des Artois don't come out as far as this. Nevertheless, I must ask you, ladies, not to detain me on my business any longer. My men are at the door, and it is over a quarter of an hour ago, since we placed Messor des St. Genes temporarily, yet effectually, oars to combat. I pray you, therefore, step out without delay, so that I may proceed to ascertain whether there is anything in this carriage likely to suit my requirements. You must be a madman, as well as a thief, retorted Crystal loudly, to imagine that we would submit to such an outrage. If you do not submit, madame, said the man calmly, I will order my man to shoot Messor Lecompte in the right leg. You would not dare. But the miscreant turned his head slowly round and called over his shoulder into the night. Attention, my man, Messor Lecompte de Cambray, have you got him? I, I, sir, came from out the darkness. Crystal gave a wild scream, and with an agonized gesture of terror clutched the highway robber by the coat. No, no, she cried, stop, stop, no, father, help. Mademoiselle said the man, quietly releasing his coat from her clinging hands. Remember that Messor Lecompte is perfectly safe if you will deign to step out of the carriage without further delay. He held the lenthorn in one hand, the other was suddenly imprisoned by Crystal's trembling fingers. Sir, she pleaded in a voice broken by terror and anxiety. We are helpless travelers on our way to Paris, driven out of our home by the advancing horde of Corsican brigands. Our little all we have with us. You cannot take that all from us. Let us give you some money of our own free will, then the shame of robbing women, who have in the darkness of the night been rendered helpless, will not rest upon you. Oh, have pity upon us. Your voice is so gentle. You must be good and kind. You will let us proceed on our way, will you not? And we'll take a solemn oath that will not attempt to put anyone on your track. You will, won't you? I swear to you that you will be doing a far finer deed thereby than you can possibly dream of. I have some jewelry about my person, here interposed Madame's sharp voice dryly, also some gold. I agree to what my niece says. We'll swear to do nothing against you when we reach Lyons, if you will be content with what we give you of our own free will, and let us go in peace. The man allowed both ladies to speak without any interruption on his part. He even allowed Crystal's dainty fingers to cling around his gloved hand for as long as she chose. No doubt he found some pleasure in this tearful appeal from such beautiful lips, for Crystal looked divinely pretty just then, with the flickering light of the lantern throwing her fair head into bold relief against the surrounding gloom. Her blue eyes were shining with unshed tears, her delicate mouth was quivering with the piteousness of her appeal. But when Madame Laduchess had finished speaking, and began to divest herself of her rings, he released his hand very gently, and said in his even quiet voice, Your pardon, Madame, but as it happens I have no use for ladies' trinkets, while all that you have been good enough to tell me only makes me the more eager to examine the contents of this carriage. But there's nothing of value in it, asserted Madame unblushingly, except what we are offering you now. That is as may be, Madame. I would wish to ascertain. You impious Malapert, she cried out wrathfully, would you dare lay hands upon a woman? No, Madame, certainly not, he replied, I will merely, as I have had the honor to tell you, order my men to shoot Massour Lacombe de Cambrai in the right leg. You vagabond, you thief, you wouldn't dare, expostulated Madame, who seemed now on the verge of hysteria. Attention, my men, he called once more over his left shoulder. It is no use, Matante, here interposed crystal, with sudden calm. We must yield to brute force. Let us get out and allow this abominable thief to wreak his impious will with us. Else we lay ourselves open to further outrage at his hands. Be sure that retribution, swift and certain, will overtake him in the end. Come, that's wisely spoken, said the man, who seemed in no way perturbed by the scornful glances which crystal and Madame now freely darted upon him. He stood a little aside, holding the door open for them, to step out of the carriage. Where is Massour Lacombe de Cambrai, queried crystal, as she brushed past him? Close by, he replied, to your right now, mademoiselle, and perfectly safe. And Massour Lémarquis de Saint-Jeanus is not two hundred meters away equally secure and equally safe. Here, Labassou, he added, calling out into the night, ease the gag around your prisoner's mouth a little, so that he may speak to the ladies. While Madame Laduchess groped her way along in the direction once came sounds of stirring, groaning, and not a little cursing, which proclaimed the presence of some men held captive by others, crystal remained beside the carriage door, as if rooted to the spot. The feeble light of the lantern had shown her, at a glance, that the masked miscreant had taken every precaution for the success of his nefarious purpose. How many men he had with him altogether, she could not, of course, ascertain. Half a dozen, perhaps, seeing that her father, the coachman, and two postilians had been overpowered, and were being closely guarded, whilst she distinctly saw that two men, at least, were standing behind their chief at this moment in order to ward off any possible attack against him from the rear. While he himself was engaged in the infamous task of robbing the coach of its contents, crystal saw him start to work in a most methodical manner. He had stood the lantern on the floor of the carriage, and was turning over every cushion and ransacking every pocket, the leather wallets which he found. He examined, with utmost coolness, seeing indeed that they were stuffed full of banknotes and drafts. His huge, caped coat appeared to have immense pockets into which those precious wallets disappeared one by one. She knew, of course, that resistance was useless. The occasional glint of the feeble lantern light upon the pistols, held by the men close beside her, taught her the salutary lesson of silence and dignity. She clenched her hands until her nails were almost driven into the flesh of her palms, and her face now glowed with a fierce and passionate resentment. This money, which might have saved the king and France from the immediate effects of the usurper's invasion, was now the booty of a common thief. Wild thoughts of vengeance coursed through her brain. She felt like a tiger-cat that was being robbed of its young. Once unable to control herself, she made a wild dash forward, determined to fight for her treasure, to scratch or to bite, to do anything, in fact, rather than stand by and see this infamous spoliation. But immediately her hands were seized, and an ominous word of command rang out weirdly through the night. Resistance here, attention over there. Her father's safety was a guarantee of her own acquiescence, struggling, fighting was useless. The abominable thief must be left to do his work in peace. It did not take long. A minute or two later he had stepped out of the carriage. He ordered one of his followers to hold the lantern and then quietly took up his stand beside the open door. Now, ladies, and you desire it, he said calmly, you may continue your journey. Your coachmen and your men are close here on the road, securely bound. Your door, De St. Janus, is not far off. Straight up the road, you cannot miss him. We leave you free to loosen their bonds. To horse my men, he added in a loud commanding voice. Labasu, hold my horse a moment, and you, ladies, I pray you accept my humble apologies that I do not stop to see you safely installed. As in a dream, Crystal heard the bustle, incident on a number of men getting to horse. In the gloom, she saw vague forms moving about hurriedly. She heard the champing of bits, the clatter of stirrup and bridle. The masked man was the last to move. After he had given the order to mount, he stood for nearly a minute by the carriage door, exactly facing Crystal, not five paces away. His companion had put the land-thorn down on the step, and by its light she could see him distinctly. A mysterious masked figure who, with wanton infamy, had placed the satisfaction of his dishonesty and of his greed, a thwart the destiny of the king of France. Crystal knew that, through the peepholes of his mask, the man's eyes were fixed intently upon her, and the knowledge caused a blush of mortification and of shame to flood her cheeks and throat. At that moment she would gladly have given her life for the power to turn the tables upon that abominable rogue to filch from him that precious treasure which she had hoped to deposit at the feet of the king for the ultimate success of his cause. And she would have given much for the power to tear off that concealing mask so that for the rest of her life she might be able to visualize that face which she would always execrate. Something of what she felt and thought must have been apparent in her expressive eyes, for presently it seemed to her as if beneath the narrow curtain that concealed the lower part of the man's face there hovered the shadow of a smile. The next moment he had the audacity, slightly, to raise his hat and to make her a bow before he finally turned to go. Crystal had taken one step backward just then whether because she was afraid that the man would try and approach her or because of a mere sense of dignity she could not herself have said. Certain it is that she did move back and that in so doing her foot came in contact with an object lying on the ground. The shape and size of it were unmistakable. It was the pistol which the compt must have dropped when first he stepped out of the carriage and was seized upon by this band of thieves. Guided by that same strange and wonderful instinct which has so often caused women in times of war to turn against the assailants of their men or devastation of their homes, Crystal picked up the weapon without a moment's hesitation. She knew that it was loaded and she knew how to use it. Even as the masked man moved away into the darkness she fired in the direction once his firm footsteps still sent their repeated echo. The short, sharp report died out in the still frosty air. Crystal vainly strained her ears to catch the sound of a fall or a groan. But in the confusion that ensued she could not distinguish any individual sound. She knew that Madame Laduchess and Jean had screamed. She heard a few loud curses, the clatter of bits and bridles, the snorting of horses and presently the noise of several horses galloping away out in the direction of Shamborey. Then nothing more. Missoura Lecompt as well as the coachmen and postillions were lying helpless and bound somewhere in the darkness. It took the three women some time to find them first and then to release them. Crystal, with great presence of mind, had run to the horses' heads directly after she had fired that random shot. The poor, frightened animals had reared and plunged and had thereby succeeded in dragging the heavy carriage out of the ditch, after which they had stopped, rigid for a moment and trembling as horses will sometimes when they are terrified before they start running away for dear life. That moment was Crystal's opportunity and fortunately she took it at the right time and in the right way. A hand on the leader's bridles, a soothing voice, the absence of further alarming noises tended at once to quieten the team, a set of good, steady, Normandy draft horses with none too much corn in their bellies to heat their sluggish blood. While Crystal stood at her post, Madame Laduchess, cool and practical, found her way firstly to Missoura Lecompt, then to the coachmen and postillions and ordering Jane to help her, she succeeded in freeing the men from their bonds. Then calling to one of them to precede her with a lanthorn, she started on the quest for Maurice de St. Janus. He was found, as that abominable thief had said, some two hundred yards up the road, very securely bound and with his own handkerchief tied round his mouth, but otherwise comfortably laid on a dry bit of roadside grass. Madame Laduchess would not reply to his questions, but after he was released and able to stand up, she made him give her a brief account of his adventure. It had all been so sudden and so quick. He had fallen back a little behind the carriage. As soon as the night had set in, as he thought it safer to keep along the edge of the road, he was feeling tired and drowsy and allowing his horse to amble along in the slow jog trot peculiar to its race. No doubt his attention had for some time been on the wander, when all at once in the darkness someone seized hold of his horse by the bridle and forced it back upon its haunches. The next moment Maurice felt himself grabbed by the leg and dragged off his horse. He shouted for help, but the carriage was on ahead and its own rattle prevented the shouts from being heard, after which he was bound and gagged and summarily left to lie by the roadside. He had had no chance against the Ruffians as they were numerous, but they did not attempt to ill-use him in any way. Slowly hobbling towards the carriage beside Madame Laduchus, for he was cramped and stiff, Maurice told her all there was to tell. He had heard the distant scuffle, the shouts and calls, also one pistol shot at the end, but he had been rendered helpless even before the carriage had come to a halt in the ditch. It was Missour Lacombe who in his accustomed measured tones now gave Maurice de Saint-Jeanus the details of this awful adventure. The ransacking of the carriage by the mysterious miscreant, the loss of the 25 millions, the complete shattering of all hope to help the king with this money in the hour of his need and finally Crystal's desperate act of revenge as she shot the pistol off into the darkness, hoping at least to disable the impudent rogue who had done them and the king such a fatal injury. Saint-Jeanus listened to it all with lips held tightly pressed together, firm determination causing every muscle in his body to grow taut and firm with the earnestness of his resolve. When Missour Lacombe had finished speaking and with a sigh of discouragement had suggested an immediate continuation of his journey, Maurice said resolutely, Do you go on straight way to Lyons with the ladies, my dear Comte, but I shall not leave this neighborhood till by some means or other I find those miscreants and lay their infamous leader by the heel. Well spoken, Maurice said the Comte guardedly, but how will you do it? It is late and the night darker than ever. You must spare me one of your horses, my dear Comte, replied the young man, as mine apparently has been stolen by those abominable thieves, and I'll ride back to the nearest village. You remember we passed it not half an hour ago. I'll get lodgings there and get some information. In the meanwhile, perhaps you will see Missour Lacombe de Artois immediately, tell him all that has happened, and beg him to send me as early in the morning as possible, a dozen cavalrymen or so to help me scour the country. I will look out for them on this road by six o'clock, and please, God, the day shall not go by before we have those infamous marauders by the heels. Twenty-five millions, remember, are not dragged about open country quite so easily as those thieves imagine. They are bound to leave some trace of their whereabouts sometimes. He appeared so confident and so cheerful that some of his optimism infected Missour Lacombe too. The latter promised to get an audience of Missour Lacombe de Artois that very evening, and, of course, the necessary cavalry patrol would at once be forthcoming. God grant you success, Maurice, he added fervently, and the young man's energy and enthusiasm were also rewarded by a warm, glowing look from Krystal. A quarter of an hour afterwards Missour Lacombe's traveling coach was once more ready for departure. Pierre had been given his orders to make due haste for lions and to drive a unicorn team of three horses instead of a regulation four, whereupon he had muttered a string of oaths which would have caused a Paris wine shop loafer to blush. One of the horses thereupon was detached from the team for Maurice's use and made ready with one of the postillian's saddles. The other postillian had to climb up to the seat next to the coachman. All three men were feeling not a little shamed at the sorry role which they had just played, and they vowed revenge against the mysterious thieves who had sprung upon them unawares and in the dark, or more due. They would have suffered severely for their impudence. In silence Missour Lacombe, Madame Laduchess and Krystal, followed by faithful Jean, re-entered the carriage. No one had been hurt. Missour Lacombe's arms felt a little stiff from the cords which had bound them behind his back, and Jean was inclined to be hysterical. But Krystal felt a fierce resentment burning in her heart. Somehow she had no hope that Maurice would succeed, even though she threw him at the last, a kindly and encouraging smile. Her one hope was that she had inflicted a painful, if not a deadly wound, upon the shameless robber of the king's money. Soon the party was once more comfortably settled, and the cumbrous vehicle, after another violent lurch, was once more on its way. Farewell, Maurice! Good luck! called Missour Lacombe at the last. The young man waited until the heavy carriage swung more easily upon its springs, then he mounted his horse, turned its head in the opposite direction, and rode slowly back up the road. Inside the vehicle, all was silent for a while, then Missour Lacombe asked quietly, Did he find everything? Everything, replied Krystal. I put in five wallets. Yes, he took them all. It is curious that they should have fallen on us just by that broken bridge. They were lying in wait for us, of course, knowing that we had the money. Do you think? asked the compt. Of course, replied Krystal, with still that note of bitter resentment in her voice. But who, besides ourselves and the prophet, began the compt, who clearly was very puzzled. Victor de Marmont, for one, retorted the girl. Surely you don't suppose that he would play the role of a highwayman? And, no, I don't. She broke in somewhat impatiently. He wouldn't have the pluck for one thing. And, moreover, the masked man was considerably taller than Victor. Well, then, it is only an idea, Father dear, she said more gently. But somehow I cannot believe that this was just ordinary highway robbery. This road is supposed to be quite safe. Travellers are not warned against armed highwaymen, and marauders wouldn't be so well-horsed and clothed. My belief is that it was a paid gang stationed at the broken bridge on purpose to rob us and no one else. Maurice will soon be after them tomorrow, and I'll see Moussour le compt. They are tois. Directly we get to Lyons, said the compt, after a slight pause, during which he was obviously pondering over his daughter's suggestion. It won't be any use, Father, Crystal said with a sigh. The whole thing has been organized, I am sure, and the head that planned this abominable robbery will know how to place his booty in safety. Moussour le compt. The compt sighed, for he was too well-bred to curse in the presence of his daughter and his sister. Madame Le Duchess had said nothing all this while, nor did she offer any comment upon the mysterious occurrence all the time that the next stage of the wearisome journey proceeded. Less than an hour later the coach came to a halt once more. Moussour le compt. woke up with a start. My God, he exclaimed, what is it now? Crystal had not been asleep. Her thoughts were too busy. Her brain too much tormented with trying to find some plausible answer to the riddle which agitated her. Who had planned this abominable robbery? Was it indeed Victor de Marmont himself, or had a greater, a mightier mind than his discovered the secret of this swift journey to Paris and ordered the clever raid upon the treasure? The rumble of the wheels had, though she was awake, prevented her from hearing the rapid approach of a number of horses in the wake of the coach until a peremptory halt in the name of the emperor suddenly chased every other thought away. Like her father she murmured, My God, what is it now? This time there was no mystery. There would be no puzzlement as to the meaning of this fresh attack. The air was full of those sounds that denote the presence of many horses and of many men. There was, too, the clinking of metal, the champing of steel bits, the brief words of command which proclaimed the men to be soldiers. They appeared to be all round the coach for the noise of their presence came from everywhere at once. Already the comp had put his head out of the window. What is it now? he asked again, more peremptorily this time. In the name of the emperor was the loud reply. We do not halt in the name of Anne usurper, said the comp, Anne avant Pierre. You urged those horses on at your peril, coachman, was the defiant retort. A quick word of command was given. There was more clanking of metal, snorting of horses, loud curses from Pierre on the box, and the commanding voice spoke again. Monsieur le comp de Cambrai. That is my name, replied the comp, and who is it, pray, who dares impede peaceful travelers on their way? By order of the emperor, was the curt reply. I know of no such person in France. Viva, the emperor, was shouted defiantly in response, whereupon, Monsieur le comp de Cambrai, proud, disdainful, and determined to show no fear or concern, withdrew from the window and threw himself back against the cushions of the carriage. What in the virgin's name is the meaning of this, murmured Madame Laduchess? God in heaven only knows, sighed the comp. But obviously the coach had not been stopped by a troop of mounted soldiers for the mere purpose of proclaiming the emperor's name on the high road in the dark. The same commanding voice which had answered the comp's challenge was giving rapid orders to dismount and to bring along one of the carriage-lanthorns. The next moment the door of the coach was opened from without, and the light of the lanthorn held up by a man in uniform fell full on the figure and on the profile of Victor de Marmont. Monsieur le comp, I regret, he said coldly, in the name of the emperor I must demand from you the restitution of his property. The comp shrugged his shoulders and vouchsafed no reply. Monsieur le comp, said de Marmont, more preemptorily this time, I have twenty-four men with me who will seize by force, if necessary, that which I herewith command you to give up voluntarily. Still no reply. Monsieur le comp de Cambrai would think himself be mean were he to parlay with a traitor. As you will, Monsieur le comp was de Marmont's calm comment on the old man's attitude. Sergeant, he commanded, seize the four persons in this coach. Three of them are women, so be as gentle as you can. Go round to the other door first. Father, now urged crystal gently, do you think that this is wise or dignified? Wisely spoken, mademoiselle crystal, rejoined de Marmont, have I not said that I have two dozen soldiers with me all trained to do their duty? Why should Monsieur le comp allow them to lay hands upon you and on Madame le Duchess? It is an outrage broken the comp savagely. You and your soldiers are traitors, rebels, and deserters. But we are in superior numbers. Monsieur le comp said de Marmont with a sneer. Would it not be wiser to yield with a good grace? Madame le Duchess, he added with an attempt at geniality. Yours was always the wise head, I am told, that guided the affairs of Monsieur le comp de Cambrai in the past, will you not advise him now? I would, my good man, retorted the Duchess, but my wise counsels would benefit no one now seeing that you have been sent on a fool's errand. De Marmont laughed. Does Madame le Duchess mean to deny that twenty-five million Franks belonging to the emperor are hidden at this moment inside this coach? I deny, Monsieur de Marmont, that any twenty-five million Franks belong to the son of an impecunious Corsican attorney, and I also deny that any twenty-five million Franks are in this coach at the present moment. That is exactly what I desire to ascertain Madame. Assertained by all means, then, quote Madame impatiently, the other thief ascertained the same thing an hour ago, and I must confess that he did so more profitably than you are like to do. The other thief, exclaimed de Marmont, greatly puzzled, it is as Madame le Duchess has deigned to tell you, here interposed the comped Cooley, I have no objection to your knowing that I had intended to convey to His Majesty the King its rightful owner a sum of money originally stolen by the Corsican usurper from France, but that an hour ago a party of armed thieves, just like yourself, attacked us, bound and gagged me and my men, ransacked my coach, and made off with the booty. And I thank God now, murmured crystal involuntarily, that the money has fallen to the hands of a common highwayman, rather than in those of the scourge of mankind. Messor le Comte, stammered de Marmont who, still incredulous, yet vaguely alarmed, was nevertheless determined not to accept this extraordinary narrative with blind confidence. But Messor le Comte de Cambray's dignity rose at last to the occasion. He refused to disbelieve me, Messor. He asked quietly. De Marmont made no reply. Will my word of honour not suffice? My orders, Messor le Comte, said de Marmont gruffly, are that I bring back to my Emperor the money that is his. I will not leave one stone unturned. Enough, Messor, broken de Comte, with calm dignity. We will alight now and the soldiers will stand aside. And for the second time on this eventful night, Madame Ladouches de Agine and Madame Iselle Crystal de Cambray, together with faithful Jean, were forced to alight from the coach and to stand by while the cushions of the carriage were being turned over by the light of a flickering lantern and every corner of the interior ransacked for the elusive treasure. There is nothing here, Mont-Colonel said a gruff voice out of the darkness, after a while, a loud curse broke from de Marmont's lips. You are satisfied? asked de Comte coldly, that I have told you the truth. Search the luggage in the boot, cried de Marmont savagely without heeding him. Search the men on the box, bring more light here, somewhere in this coach, I'll swear. If I do not find it, I'll take everyone here back a prisoner to Grenoble, or he paused himself ashamed of what he had been about to say. Or you will order your soldiers to lay hands upon our persons. Is that it? Missouri de Marmont broke in crystal coldly. He made no reply, for of a truth that had been his thought, foiled in his hope of rendering his beloved emperor, so signal a service, he had lost all sense of chivalry in this overwhelming feeling of baffled rage. Crystal's cold challenge recalled him to himself, and now he felt ashamed of what he had just contemplated, ashamed too of what he had done. He hated de Comte, he hated all royalists and all enemies of the emperor, but he hated the Comte doubly because of the insults which he, de Marmont, had had to endure that evening at Breastelow. He had looked upon this expedition as a means of vengeance for those insults, a means too of showing his power and his worth before Crystal, and of winning her through that power which the emperor had given him and through that worth which the emperor had recognized. But though he hated the Comte, he knew him to be absolutely incapable of telling a deliberate lie and absolutely incapable of bartering his word of honor for the sake of his own safety. Crystal's words brought this knowledge back to his mind, and now the desire seized him to prove himself as chivalrous as he was powerful. He was one of those men who are so absolutely ignorant of a woman's nature that they believe that a woman's love can be won by deeds as a part from personality and that a woman's dislike and contempt can be changed into love. He loved Crystal more absolutely now than he had ever done in the days when he was practically her accepted suitor. His unbridled and capricious nature clung desperately to that which he could not hold, and since he had felt that evening at Breastlow that his political convictions had placed an insuperable barrier between himself and Crystal de Cambre, he felt that no woman on earth could ever be quite so desirable. His mistake lay in this that he believed that it was his political convictions alone which had turned Crystal away from him. He felt that he could have won her love through her submission once she was his wife. Now he found that he would have to win her love first and her wifely submission would only follow afterwards. Just now, though in the gloom he could only see the vague outline of her graceful form and only heard her voice as through a veil of darkness he had the longing to prove himself at once worthy of her regard and deserving of her gratitude. Without replying to her direct challenge he made a vigorous effort to curb his rage and to master his disappointment. Then he gave a few brief commands to his sergeant ordering him to repair the disorder inside the coach and to stop all further searching both of the vehicle and of the men. Finally he said with calm dignity, I must offer you my humble apologies for the inconvenience to which you have been subjected. I humbly beg madame Laduchess and mademoiselle crystal to accept these expressions of my profound regret. A soldier's life and a soldier's duty must be my excuse for the part I was forced to take in this untoward happening. Madame Laduchess I pray you deign to re-enter your carriage. If there is aught I can do for you I pray you command me. Neither the Duchess nor the Compt however deigned to take the slightest notice of the abominable traitor and of his long tirade. Madame was shivering with cold and yawning with fatigue and in her heart consigned the young brute to everlasting torments. The Compt would have thought it beneath his dignity to accept any explanation from a follower of the Corsican usurper. Without a word he was now helping his sister into the carriage. Jean of course hardly counted. She was dazed into semi-imbosility by the renewed terrors she had just gone through. For at the moment Victor felt that crystal was isolated from the others. She stood a little to one side. She could only just see her as the sergeant was holding up the lanthorn for Madame la Duchess to see her way into the coach. Massour Le Compt went on to give a few directions to the coachman. Madame Iselle Crystal murmured Victor softly and he made a step forward so that now she could not move toward the carriage without brushing against him. Madame Iselle Crystal he said again have you not one single kind word for me? A kind word she retorted almost involuntarily after such an outrage I am a soldier he urged and had to do my duty. You were a soldier once Massour de Marmont a soldier of the king now you are only a deserter a soldier of the emperor Madame Iselle of the man who led France to victory and to glory and will do so again now that he has come back into his own once more. You and I Massour de Marmont she said coldly look at France from different points of view this is neither the hour nor the place to discuss our respective sentiments I pray you allow me to join my aunt in the carriage I am cold and tired and she will be anxious for me will you at least give me one word of encouragement Madame Iselle he urged as you say our points of view are very different but I am on the high road to fortune the emperor is back in France the army flocks to his eagles as one man he trusts me and I shall rise to greatness under his wing Madame Iselle crystal you promised me your hand I have not released you from that promise yet I will come and claim it soon Excitement seems to have turned your brain Massour de Marmont was all that crystal said and she walked straight past him to the carriage door Victor smothered a curse these aristos were as arrogant what lesson had the revolution and the guillotine taught them none this girl who had spent her whole life in poverty and exile and was like after a brief interregnum to return to exile and poverty again was not a wit less proud than her kindred had been when they walked in their hundreds up the steps of the guillotine with a smile of lofty disdain upon their lips Victor de Marmont was son of the people of those who had made the revolution and had fought the whole of Europe in order to establish their right to govern themselves as they thought best and he hated all these aristos the men who had fled from their country and abandoned it when she needed her son's help more than she had ever done before the aristocrat was for him synonymous with the emigre with the man who had raised a foreign army to fight against France who had brought the foreigner marching triumphantly into Paris he hated the aristocrat but he loved crystal the one desirable product of that old regime system which he abhorred but with him a woman's love meant a woman's submission he was more determined than ever now to win her but he wanted to win her through her humiliation and his triumph excitement had turned his brain well, so be it fear and depression would turn her heart and crush her pride he made no further attempt to detain her he had asked for a kind word and she had given him withering scorn excitement had turned his brain he was not even worthy of parley not even worthy of a formal refusal to his credit be it said that the thought of immediate revenge did not enter his mind then he might have subjected her then and there to deadly outrage he might have had her personal effect searched her person touched by the rough hands of his soldiers but though his estimate of a woman's love was a low one it was not so base as to imagine that crystal de cambray would ever forgive so dastardly and insult as she walked past him to the door however he said under his breath remember mademoiselle that you and your family at this moment are absolutely in my power and that it is only because of my regard for you that I let you all now depart from here in peace whether she heard or not he could not say certain it is that she made no reply nor did she turn toward him at all the light of the lantern lit up her delicate profile pale and drawn her tightly pressed lips with the look of utter contempt in her eyes which even the fitful shadow cast by her hair over her brows could not altogether conceal the compt had given what instructions he wished to pierre he stood by the carriage door waiting for his daughter no doubt he had heard what went on between her and de marmont and was content to leave her what scorn was necessary for the humiliation of the traitor he helped crystal into the carriage and also the unfortunate gene finally he too followed and pulled the door too behind him victor did not wait to see the coach make a start he gave the order to remount how far are we from saint priest he asked not eight kilometers mon kernel he asked the reply and avant then ventre a terre he commanded as he swung himself into the saddle the great high road between grenoble and lions is very wide and pierre had no need to draw his horses to one side as de marmont and his troop after much scrambling champing of bits and clanking of metal rode at a sharp trot and him for some few moments the sound of the horses hooves on the hard road kept the echoes of the night busy with their resonance but soon that sound grew fainter and fainter still after five minutes it died away all together massort de compt put his head out of the window a bn pierre he called why don't we start with his whip pierre shouted to his horses the heavy coach groaned and creaked and was once more on its way in the interior no one spoke chains terror had melted in a silent flow of tears lions was reached shortly before midnight massort de compt's carriage had some difficulty in entering the town as by orders of massort de compt it had already been placed in a state of defense against the possible advance of the band of pirates from corsica the bridge of la guillotière had been strongly barricaded and it took massort de compt de cambray some little time to establish his identity before the officer in command of the post allowed him to proceed on his way was fairly full owing to the presence of massort de compt de artois who had taken up his quarters at the arch episcopal palace and of his staff who were scattered in various houses about the town nevertheless massort de compt and his family were fortunate enough in obtaining comfortable accommodation at the hotel bourbon the party was very tired and after a light supper retired to bed but not before massort de compt de cambray had sent a special autographed message to Monsignor de compt de artois explaining to him under what tragic circumstances the sum of 25 million francs destined to reach his majesty the king had fallen into a common highway man's hands saying that a posse of cavalry be sent out on the road after the marauders and be placed under the orders of massort de Saint-Jeanus who would be on the lookout for their arrival he begged that the posse should consist of not less than 30 men seeing that some armed followers of the Corsican brigand were also somewhere on the way End of Chapter 4 Part 2