Read Ebook: The path of honor: A tale of the war in the Bocage by Stevenson Burton Egbert Leach Ethel Pennewill Brown Illustrator Rush Olive Illustrator

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Ebook has 244 lines and 12158 words, and 5 pages

"Oh, it is!" I broke in with a little laugh. "I am glad to know that!"

"Citizen, you surprise me!" protested Dubosq; and I saw that he was in earnest. "I thought you more of a philosopher. Since this is the end, why worry about it?"

"I will try not to," I said; "but at twenty-one the end comes rather early."

"True," he agreed, and gazed at me contemplatively; "I had forgot that you were so young."

"At any rate, I thank you for your interest," I said.

"Not in the least," I protested. "I did not lie--I had never seen Favras before. He took my horse by force, as I related to you; but I found him awaiting me at the next town. He restored my horse to me and insisted that I spend the night at his ch?teau."

"Faith, citizen," said Dubosq with a laugh, "you'd better have lost your horse and spent the night under a hedge. As it is, you lose your life and enter the eternal night."

"Yes; there's no help for that, I suppose?"

"Not if Citizen Goujon has ordered it."

"He did order it," broke in one of my persecutors, who had listened to all this with ill-concealed impatience, "and at once."

"Tavernay," I prompted.

"Oh, yes; I remember. Well, if you have any messages, Citizen Tavernay, I'll be glad to take charge of them. It's the only kindness I can do you, I'm afraid."

"Consider it done," he broke in. "Anything else?"

"Citizen," I said, lowering my voice, "for myself I do not greatly care. But I had a companion--a pure and beautiful woman. If you can save her from death, or worse, you will be doing a noble action."

Dubosq pulled his great mustaches thoughtfully.

"Is she an aristocrat?" he asked at last.

"Not at all," I hastened to assure him. "She was merely a guest at the ch?teau like myself."

"I will see what can be done," he promised; "but it will be no easy task."

"I know it, my friend; therefore I ask it of you."

"Come, Citizen Tavernay," he said, raising his head suddenly, "I can pledge you one thing."

"And that?"

"That she has nothing worse to fear than death."

"God bless you!" I said with trembling lips. "God bless you! Now I can die in peace."

"Do you know, citizen," said Dubosq in a voice almost tender, "I regret more and more that you did not accept my invitation to join us that morning, for, by my soul, you are a gallant fellow!"

We had reached a small oak which grew upon the hillside, and one end of the line was thrown over a lower branch.

"One minute to shrive yourself, citizen," called a rude voice.

I looked out over the hillside. The moon was sailing high in the heavens, and I noticed that the flock of sheep was moving down toward us. Just above us was the line of sentinels, and the fires of the camp gleamed along the road below. I could see the soldiers crowded about them, for the night was chill; could hear their jests and laughter. The tragedy which was enacting here on the hillside, and which meant so much to me, concerned them not at all. They would go their way, the world would wag along, only I would no longer be a part of it. My mother--this would be her death, too--the death of all her hopes, all her ambitions. She would have nothing more to live for. I wondered what she was doing at this moment. Did some message of the spirit warn her that her only son was in deadly peril? Another woman would miss me--but aside from these my disappearance would be scarce noted. It would create not even a ripple on the great ocean of the world. My life would count for nothing.

"The time is up, citizen!" called the same rude voice.

Dubosq was at my side.

"Courage!" he whispered. "It is soon over!"

"Adieu, my friend," I said. "Remember your promise."

"I do remember it. Trust me."

I raised my head. At least I would die worthily.

Then, as though I had uttered a signal, a hundred muskets crashed from the hedge at our right. The rope relaxed; I opened my eyes to see with astonishment the sheep rising on two legs and charging down upon us. The night was filled with shrill cries, with hideous yells. In the camp a drum was beating, and I could see the Blues running to arm themselves, dashing hither and thither in panic, their officers straining to bring order to the frenzied mob. But the savage flood was upon us....

"At least, aristocrat, you shall not escape!" hissed a voice in my ear; and the world reeled and turned black before me as a great blow fell upon my head.

"COURAGE!"

FOR a time I thought I was again in that raftered chamber at Beaufort which had been mine for so many years; but finally I recognized uneasily that this was not the bed to which I was accustomed, nor were these dark and grimy walls the ones at which I had been wont to stare while building my castles in Spain.

Then in a flash I remembered,--escape, flight, capture, rescue,--and I started to spring from the bed, but fell back again with a cry of pain. For an instant my head seemed splitting open, and I closed my eyes dizzily.

"Gently, monsieur, gently," said a voice; and I opened my eyes to see a kindly woman's face bending over me. "You must lie still," she added, and placed a cool hand upon my forehead. "You must go to sleep."

"But where am I?" I asked.

"You are with friends."

"And Mademoiselle de Chambray?"

"She also is safe."

I closed my eyes with a deep sigh of thankfulness. Safe, safe, safe--I repeated the word to myself again and again. Safe! Surely Providence had guarded us! Safe....

When I awoke the second time it was night, and I lay for long staring up through the darkness and piecing together the adventures which had befallen me since that moment when Dubosq had halted me on the highway from Tours. My heart quickened as I recalled that evening in the garden, as I rebuilt it, as I lived it over again, second by second. Ah, that had been the one hour of my life! And yet, even in the shadow of the perils which followed, I had not been unhappy, for she had been beside me, with her clear eyes and smiling lips; and if she chose to smite me now and then, why certainly I had invited the blows and even, in a way, deserved them.

Then at the end I had won. That final disaster had driven her straight into my arms, as a storm drives the boats to harbor. She had laid her head upon my shoulder and whispered that she loved me! My pulses quickened at thought of it. She loved me--that superb, matchless woman loved me! What did all the rest matter--the world's opinion, my plighted word? I would take her--I would never give her up! She loved me! That should be my justification. And gripping that thought tight against my heart I dropped away to sleep.

The sun was shining brightly at the open window when I awakened for the third time, and again I saw that kindly face bending above me.

"You are better, monsieur?" she asked; and again her cool hand touched my forehead. "Yes--your fever is nearly gone."

"I am quite well," I assured her, "except for a little soreness of the head. Where are my clothes?"

"You will not need them for some days yet," she said, smiling at my eagerness.

"You see," she added, still smiling, "you are weaker than you thought."

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