Through? Yes, through, the way was clear before them! The fight with

its screams and curses died away behind them. The horses swayed and all

but sank under them. But Badelon knew it no time for mercy; iron-shod

hoofs rang on the road behind, and at any moment the pursuers might be on

their heels. He flogged on until the cots of the hamlet appeared on

either side of the way; on, until the road forked and the Countess with

strange readiness cried "The left!"--on, until the beach appeared below

them at the foot of a sharp pitch, and beyond the beach the slow heaving

grey of the ocean.

The tide was high. The causeway ran through it, a mere thread lipped by

the darkling waves, and at the sight a grunt of relief broke from

Badelon. For at the end of the causeway, black against the western sky,

rose the gateway and towers of Vrillac; and he saw that, as the Countess

had said, it was a place ten men could hold against ten hundred!

They stumbled down the beach, reached the causeway and trotted along it;

more slowly now, and looking back. The other women had followed by hook

or by crook, some crying hysterically, yet clinging to their horses and

even urging them; and in a medley, the causeway clear behind them and no

one following, they reached the drawbridge, and passed under the arch of

the gate beyond.

There friendly hands, Carlat's foremost, welcomed them and aided them to

alight, and the Countess saw, as in a dream, the familiar scene, all

unfamiliar: the gate, where she had played, a child, aglow with lantern-

light and arms. Men, whose rugged faces she had known in infancy, stood

at the drawbridge chains and at the winches. Others blew matches and

handled primers, while old servants crowded round her, and women looked

at her, scared and weeping. She saw it all at a glance--the lights, the

black shadows, the sudden glow of a match on the groining of the arch

above. She saw it, and turning swiftly, looked back the way she had

come; along the dusky causeway to the low, dark shore, which night was

stealing quickly from their eyes. She clasped her hands.

"Where is Badelon?" she cried. "Where is he? Where is he?"

One of the men who had ridden before her answered that he had turned

back.

"Turned back!" she repeated. And then, shading her eyes, "Who is

coming?" she asked, her voice insistent. "There is some one coming. Who

is it? Who is it?"

Two were coming out of the gloom, travelling slowly and painfully along

the causeway. One was La Tribe, limping; the other a rider, slashed

across the forehead, and sobbing curses.

"No more!" she muttered. "Are there no more?"




readonlinefreebook.com Copyright 2016 - 2024