My Lady Rotha: A Romance. Weyman Stanley John

Читать онлайн.
Название My Lady Rotha: A Romance
Автор произведения Weyman Stanley John
Жанр Зарубежная классика
Серия
Издательство Зарубежная классика
Год выпуска 0
isbn



Скачать книгу

through one of the loopholes in the gate, I was able to discern that the farther end of the bridge which spanned the ravine was gone-or gone in part. The right-hand wall, with three or four feet of the roadway, still hung in air, but half a dozen men, whose figures loomed indistinctly through a haze of dust and gloom, were working at it furiously, demolishing it with bars and pickaxes.

      At that sight I fell into a rage. I saw in a flash what would happen if the bridge sank and we were cut off from all exit except through the town-gate. The dastardly nature of the surprise, too, and the fiendish energy of the men combined to madden me. I gave no warning and cried out no word, but thrusting my weapon through the loophole aimed at the nearest worker, and fired.

      The man dropped his tool and threw up his arms, staggered forward a couple of paces, and fell sheer over the broken edge into the gulf. His fellows stood a moment in terror, looking after him, but the sentry who had warned me fired through the other loophole, and that started them. They flung down their tools and bolted like so many rabbits. The smoke of the carbine was scarce out of the muzzle, before the bridge, or what remained of it, was clear.

      I turned round and found the Waldgrave at my elbow. 'Well done!' he said heartily. 'That will teach the rascals a lesson!'

      I was trembling in every limb with excitement, but before I answered him, I handed my gun to one of the men who had followed me. 'Load,' I said,' and if a man comes near the bridge, shoot him down. Keep your eye on the bridge, and do nothing else until I come back.'

      Then I walked away through the stable-court with the Waldgrave; who looked at me curiously. 'You were only just in time,' he said.

      'Only just,' I muttered.

      'There is enough left for a horse to cross.'

      'Yes,' I answered, 'to-day.'

      'Why to-day?' he asked, still looking at me. I think he was surprised to see me so much moved.

      'Because the rest will be blown up to-night,' I answered bluntly. 'Or may be. How can we guard it in the dark? It is fifty paces from the gate. We cannot risk men there-with our numbers.'

      'Still it may not be,' he said. 'We must keep a sharp look-out.'

      'But if it is?' I answered, halting suddenly, and looking him full in the face. 'If it is, my lord?' I continued. 'We are provisioned for a week only. It is not autumn, you see. Then the pickle tubs would be full, the larder stocked, the rafters groaning, the still-room supplied. But it is May, and there is little left. The last three days we have been thinking of other things than provisions; and we have thirty mouths to feed.'

      The Waldgrave's face fell. 'I had not thought of that,' he said. 'The bridge gone, they may starve us, you mean?'

      'Into submission to whatever terms they please,' I answered. 'We are too few to cut our way through the town, and there would be no other way of escape.'

      'What do you advise, then?' he asked, drawing me aside with a flustered air. 'Flight?'

      'A horse might cross the bridge to-day,' I said.

      'But any terms would be better than that!' he replied with vehemence.

      'What if they demand the expulsion of the Catholic girl, my lord, whom the Countess has taken under her protection?'

      'They will not!' he said.

      'They may,' I persisted.

      'Then we will not give her up.'

      'But the alternative-starvation?'

      'Pooh! It will not come to that!' he answered lightly. 'You leap before you reach the stile.'

      'Because, my lord, there will be no leaping if we do reach it.'

      'Nonsense!' he cried masterfully. 'Something must be risked. To give up a strong place like this to a parcel of clodhoppers-it is absurd! At the worst we could parley.'

      'I do not think my lady would consent to parley.'

      'I shall say nothing to her about it,' he answered. 'She is no judge of such things.'

      I had been thinking all the while that he had that in his mind, and on the spot I answered him squarely that I would not consent. 'My lady must know all,' I said, 'and decide for herself.'

      He started, looking at me with his face very red. 'Why, man,' he said, 'would you browbeat me?'

      'No, my lord,' I said firmly, 'but my lady must know.'

      'You are insolent!' he cried, in a passion. 'You forget yourself, man, and that your mistress has placed me in command here!'

      'I forget nothing, my lord,' I answered, waxing firmer. 'What I remember is that she is my mistress.'

      He glared at me a moment, his face dark with anger, and then with a contemptuous gesture he left me and walked twice or thrice across the court. Doubtless the air did him good, for presently he came back to me. 'You are an ill-bred meddler!' he said with his head high, 'and I shall remember it. But for the present have your way. I will tell the Countess and take her opinion.'

      He went into the house to do it, and I waited patiently in the courtyard, watching the sun rise and all the roofs grow red; listening to the twittering of the birds, and wondering what the answer would be. I had not set myself against him without misgiving, for in a little while all might be in his hands. But fear for my mistress outweighed fears on my own account; and in the thought of her shame, should she awake some morning and find herself trapped, I lost thought of my own interest and advancement. I have heard it said that he builds best for himself who builds for another. It was so on this occasion.

      He came back presently, looking thoughtful, as if my lady had talked to him very freely, and shown him a side of her character that had escaped him. The anger was clean gone from his face, and he spoke to me without embarrassment; in apparent forgetfulness that there had been any difference between us. Nor did I ever find him bear malice long.

      'The Countess decides to go,' he said, 'either to Cassel or Frankfort, according to the state of the roads. She will take with her Fraulein Max, her two women, and the Catholic girl, and as many men as you can horse. She thinks she may safely leave the castle in charge of old Jacob and Franz, with a letter directed to the Burgomaster and council, throwing the responsibility for its custody on them. When do you think we should start?'

      'Soon after dark this evening,' I answered, 'if my lady pleases.'

      'Then that decides it,' he replied carelessly, the dawn of a new plan and new prospects lighting up his handsome face. 'See to it, will you?'

      CHAPTER IX.

      WALNUTS OF GOLD

      Night is like a lady's riding-mask, which gives to the most familiar features a strange and uncanny aspect. When to night are added silence and alarm, and that worst burden of all, responsibility-responsibility where a broken twig may mean a shot, and a rolling stone capture, where in a moment the evil is done-then you have a scene and a time to try the stoutest.

      To walk boldly into a wall of darkness, relying on daylight knowledge, which says there is no wall; to step over the precipice on the faith of its depth being shadow-this demands nerve in those who are not used to the vagaries of night. But when the darkness may at any instant belch forth a sheet of flame; when every bush may hide a cowardly foe and every turn a pitfall, and there are women in company and helpless children, then a man had need to be an old soldier or forest-born, if he would keep his head cool, and tell one horse from another by the sound of its hoofs.

      We started about eight, and started well. The Waldgrave and half a dozen men crossed first on foot, and took post to protect the farther end of the bridge. Then I led over the horses, beginning with the four sumpter beasts. Satisfied after this that the arch remained uninjured, and that there was room and to spare, I told my lady, and she rode over by herself on Pushka. Marie Wort tripped after her with the child in her arms. Fraulein Max I carried. My lady's women crossed hand in hand. Then the rest. So like a troop of ghosts or shadows, with hardly a word spoken or an order given, we flitted into the darkness, and met under the trees, where those who had not yet mounted got to horse. Led by young Jacob, who knew every path in the valley and could find his way blindfold, we struck