In the Irish Brigade: A Tale of War in Flanders and Spain. Henty George Alfred

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Название In the Irish Brigade: A Tale of War in Flanders and Spain
Автор произведения Henty George Alfred
Жанр Зарубежная классика
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Издательство Зарубежная классика
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you wish done? It is too far to take you to Versailles tonight, and too late to obtain means of conveyance."

      "There is a carriage in the stables behind the house, and there are some horses. I cannot say how many, but at night I have heard them stamping. I suppose the carriage was left here so that they could remove me to some other place, in case suspicion should fall upon this house. How many are there of you, monsieur?"

      "Only myself, and the trooper you see at the door."

      "And did you two fight with five men, and kill four of them!" she exclaimed, in surprise. "How brave of you, monsieur, and how good to run such risk, for a person of whom you knew nothing!"

      "I knew that it was a woman in distress," Desmond said, "and that was quite enough to induce two Irishmen to step in, and answer to her cry for aid. However, mademoiselle, if the carriage and horses are there, this will get us out of our difficulty. The only question is, will you start at once, or wait until daylight? We may be stopped by the patrols, as we approach Versailles, but I have no doubt that my uniform will suffice to pass us into the town, where probably your father is still lodging."

      "I would much rather go at once," the girl said. "There are others who come, sometimes at all hours of the night."

      "Very well, then, we will see about getting the carriage ready, at once. If you will come downstairs, we will lock this old woman up in your room."

      This was done at once, and the girl, who was so shaken by her captivity that she feared to remain for a moment by herself, accompanied her rescuers to the back of the house. Here, as she had said, they found a carriage and four horses, two of which stood ready saddled, while the others were evidently carriage horses. These were speedily harnessed, and put into the carriage.

      "Now, Mike, you had better drive. I will mount one of these saddle horses and ride alongside. I think, mademoiselle, as the drive will be a long one, it would be as well that we should put the old woman in the carriage with you. She will be a companion, though one that you would not take from choice. Still, your father may wish to question her, and, indeed, it would be better in many respects that you should have a female with you."

      "Thank you, Monsieur Kennedy,"–for she had already learned his name–she said gratefully, "it would certainly be much better."

      The old woman was therefore brought down, and made to enter the carriage, and seat herself facing Mademoiselle Pointdexter. Mike took his seat on the box, and Desmond mounted one of the saddle horses, and led the other. They had already removed the bodies that lay in front of the gates.

      They had to make a considerable detour round Paris, before they came down upon the Versailles road. The roads were bad and the carriage was heavy, and daylight was already breaking when they entered the town. They had twice been stopped by patrols, but Desmond's uniform had sufficed to pass them.

      Baron Pointdexter had taken up his abode in a large house, standing in a walled garden in the lower part of the town. When they reached it, Desmond dismounted and rung the bell. After he had done this several times, a step was heard in the garden, and a voice asked roughly, "Who is it that rings at this hour of the morning?"

      Mademoiselle Pointdexter, who had alighted as soon as the carriage stopped, called out, "It is I, Eustace."

      There was an exclamation of surprise and joy, bolts were at once drawn, and the gate thrown open, and an old servitor threw himself on his knees as the girl entered, and, taking the hand she held out to him, put it to his lips.

      "Ah, mademoiselle," he said, while the tears streamed down his cheeks, "what a joyful morning it is! We have all suffered, and monsieur le baron most of all. He has spoken but a few words, since you left, but walks up and down the garden as one distraught, muttering to himself, and sometimes even drawing his sword and thrusting it at an invisible enemy. He is up, mademoiselle. He has never gone to his bed since you were missing."

      As he spoke, the door of the house opened, and the baron hurried out, with the question, "What is it, Eustace?"

      Then, as his eye fell on his daughter, he gave a hoarse cry, and for a moment swayed, as if he would have fallen. His daughter ran up to him, and threw her arms round his neck.

      "Do you return to me safe and well?" he asked, as, after a long embrace, he stepped back and gazed into her face.

      "Quite safe and well, father."

      "The Lord be praised!" the baron exclaimed, and, dropping into a garden seat by his side, he burst into a passion of sobbing.

      As soon as he had appeared, Desmond had handed over the old woman to Eustace.

      "She is a prisoner–keep a watch over her," he said. "She can tell much. We will take the carriage round to a stable, and must then return at once to Paris, where I must be on duty at seven. Please inform the baron that I shall do myself the honour of calling, tomorrow, to enquire whether Mademoiselle Pointdexter has suffered from the effects of the fatigue and excitement. Express my regret that I am obliged to leave at once, but I am sure he will have so much to hear, from his daughter, that it is best they should be alone together, for a time."

      He at once remounted his horse, Mike climbed up on to his seat, and they drove off, and, knocking up the people at some large stables, left the carriage and horses there, telling the proprietors to send to the Baron Pointdexter to know his wishes regarding it. Then Mike mounted the spare horse, and they started at full speed for Paris, and arrived at the barracks in time for Desmond to take his place at the early parade.

      Chapter 4: At Versailles

      The regiment was on the point of falling in, on the parade ground, when Desmond Kennedy rode up. Leaping from his horse, he threw the reins to his servant.

      "Take them both round to the stables, and put them in spare stalls, Mike. I will get leave off parade for both of us, and ask the surgeon to dress your wounds properly."

      Then he went up to the colonel, who was just entering the barrack yard.

      "Colonel O'Brien," he said, "I must ask your leave off parade, for, as you see, I am scarcely in a condition to take my place with my company."

      "So it would seem, Mr. Kennedy. You have been in trouble, I see. Nothing serious, I hope?"

      "Nothing at all, sir, as far as I am concerned. It is merely a graze from a pistol ball."

      "Well, I must hear about it, afterwards."

      "I must also ask leave off parade for Callaghan, my servant, sir. He is hurt a good deal more than I am, though not, I hope, seriously."

      The colonel nodded. "I will send the surgeon to your quarters, and he will see to you both."

      As Desmond left the colonel, his two chums came up.

      "Why, Kennedy, what on earth have you been doing to yourself? This is what comes of gallivanting about after dark. When we came round, yesterday evening, to go out with you as usual, you were not in. There was nothing very unusual in that, for these evening walks of yours are often prolonged; but we called again, on our return at eleven o'clock, and found you were still absent. This looked serious. We came round again at six this morning, for we were anxious about you, and learned you had not been in all night, and, on enquiring, heard that Callaghan was also absent.

      "That was cheering. That you might get into some scrape or other, we could reasonably believe; but, as you had your man with you, we could hardly suppose that misfortune had fallen upon both of you."

      "The wound is a mere graze. I will tell you, after parade, what I have been doing," Desmond said, "but you must nurse your curiosity till you are dismissed."

      A few minutes after Desmond reached his quarters, the surgeon came in.

      "I do not think that I have any need of your services, doctor. I got a piece of plaster, and stuck it on two hours ago, and I have no doubt that the wound will heal in a few days."

      "However, I will, with your permission, take it off, Mr. Kennedy. It is much better that the wound should be properly washed, and some dressing applied to it. It will heal all the quicker, and you are less likely to have an ugly scar.

      "It is a pretty deep graze," he said,