el dorado-第84章

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soft　carpet　of　pine…needles　and　of　dead　fallen　leaves；　but　the
champing　of　the　bits　was　of　course　audible；　and　now　and　then　the
snorting　of　some　poor；　tired　horse　longing　for　its　stable。

Somehow　in　Marguerite's　fevered　mind　this　departure　of　a　squad　of
men　seemed　like　the　final　flitting　of　her　last　hope；　the　slow
agony　of　the　familiar　sounds；　the　retreating　horses　and　soldiers
moving　away　amongst　the　shadows；　took　on　a　weird　significance。
Heron　had　given　his　last　orders。　　Percy；　helpless　and　probably
unconscious；　would　spend　the　night　in　that　dank　chapel；　while　she
and　Armand　would　be　taken　back　to　Crecy；　driven　to　death　like　some
insentient　animals　to　the　slaughter。

When　the　grey　dawn　would　first　begin　to　peep　through　the　branches
of　the　pines　Percy　would　be　led　back　to　Paris　and　the　guillotine；
and　she　and　Armand　will　have　been　sacrificed　to　the　hatred　and
revenge　of　brutes。

The　end　had　come；　and　there　was　nothing　more　to　be　done。
Struggling；　fighting；　scheming；　could　be　of　no　avail　now；　but　she
wanted　to　get　to　her　husband；　she　wanted　to　be　near　him　now　that
death　was　so　imminent　both　for　him　and　for　her。

She　tried　to　envisage　it　all；　quite　calmly；　just　as　she　knew　that
Percy　would　wish　her　to　do。　　The　inevitable　end　was　there；　and　she
would　not　give　to　these　callous　wretches　here　the　gratuitous
spectacle　of　a　despairing　woman　fighting　blindly　against　adverse
Fate。

But　she　wanted　to　go　to　her　husband。　　She　felt　that　she　could　face
death　more　easily　on　the　morrow　if　she　could　but　see　him　once；　if
she　could　but　look　once　more　into　the　eyes　that　had　mirrored　so
much　enthusiasm；　such　absolute　vitality　and　whole…hearted
self…sacrifice；　and　such　an　intensity　of　love　and　passion；　if　she
Could　but　kiss　once　more　those　lips　that　had　smiled　through　life；
and　would　smile；　she　knew；　even　in　the　face　of　death。

She　tried　to　open　the　carriage　door；　but　it　was　held　from　without；
and　a　harsh　voice　cursed　her；　ordering　her　to　sit　still。

But　she　could　lean　out　of　the　window　and　strain　her　eyes　to　see。
They　were　by　now　accustomed　to　the　gloom；　the　dilated　pupils
taking　in　pictures　of　vague　forms　moving　like　ghouls　in　the
shadows。　　The　other　coach　was　not　far；　and　she　could　hear　Heron's
voice；　still　subdued　and　calm；　and　the　curses　of　the　men。　　But　not
a　sound　from　Percy。

〃I　think　the　prisoner　is　unconscious；〃　she　heard　one　of　the　men　say。

〃Lift　him　out　of　the　carriage；　then；〃　was　Heron's　curt　command；
〃and　you　go　and　throw　open　the　chapel　gates。〃

Marguerite　saw　it　all。　　The　movement；　the　crowd　of　men；　two　vague；
black　forms　lifting　another　one；　which　appeared　heavy　and　inert；
out　of　the　coach；　and　carrying　it　staggering　up　towards　the
chapel。

Then　the　forms　disappeared；　swallowed　up　by　the　more　dense　mass　of
the　little　building；　merged　in　with　it；　immovable　as　the　stone
itself。

Only　a　few　words　reached　her　now。

〃He　is　unconscious。〃

〃Leave　him　there；　then；　he'll　not　move！〃

〃Now　close　the　gates！〃

There　was　a　loud　clang；　and　Marguerite　gave　a　piercing　scream。
She　tore　at　the　handle　of　the　carriage　door。

〃Armand；　Armand；　go　to　him！〃　she　cried；　and　all　her　self…control；
all　her　enforced　calm；　vanished　in　an　outburst　of　wild；　agonising
passion。　　〃Let　me　get　to　him；　Armand！　　This　is　the　end；　get　me　to
him；　in　the　name　of　God！〃

〃Stop　that　woman　screaming；〃　came　Heron's　voice　clearly　through
the　night。　〃Put　her　and　the　other　prisoner　in　ironsquick！〃

But　while　Marguerite　expended　her　feeble　strength　in　a　mad；
pathetic　effort　to　reach　her　husband；　even　now　at　this　last　hour；
when　all　hope　was　dead　and　Death　was　so　nigh；　Armand　had　already
wrenched　the　carriage　door　from　the　grasp　of　the　soldier　who　was
guarding　it。　　He　was　of　the　South；　and　knew　the　trick　of　charging
an　unsuspecting　adversary　with　head　thrust　forward　like　a　bull
inside　a　ring。　Thus　he　knocked　one　of　the　soldiers　down　and　made　a
quick　rush　for　the　chapel　gates。

The　men；　attacked　so　suddenly　and　in　such　complete　darkness；　did
not　wait　for　orders。　　They　closed　in　round　Armand；　one　man　drew
his　sabre　and　hacked　away　with　it　in　aimless　rage。

But　for　the　moment　he　evaded　them　all；　pushing　his　way　through
them；　not　heeding　the　blows　that　came　on　him　from　out　the
darkness。　　At　last　he　reached　the　chapel。　　With　one　bound　he　was
at　the　gate；　his　numb　fingers　fumbling　for　the　lock；　which　he
could　not　see。

It　was　a　vigorous　blow　from　Heron's　fist　that　brought　him　at　last
to　his　knees；　and　even　then　his　hands　did　not　relax　their　hold；
they　gripped　the　ornamental　scroll　of　the　gate；　shook　the　gate
itself　in　its　rusty　hinges；　pushed　and　pulled　with　the　unreasoning
strength　of　despair。　　He　had　a　sabre　cut　across　his　brow；　and　the
blood　flowed　in　a　warm；　trickling　stream　down　his　face。　　But　of
this　he　was　unconscious；　all　that　he　wanted；　all　that　he　was
striving　for　with　agonising　heart…beats　and　cracking　sinews；　was
to　get　to　his　friend；　who　was　lying　in　there　unconscious；
abandoneddead；　perhaps。

〃Curse　you；〃　struck　Heron's　voice　close　to　his　ear。　　〃Cannot　some
of　you　stop　this　raving　maniac？〃

Then　it　was　that　the　heavy　blow　on　his　head　caused　him　a　sensation
of　sickness；　and　he　fell　on　his　knees；　still　gripping　the　ironwork。

Stronger　hands　than　his　were　forcing　him　to　loosen　his　hold；　blows
that　hurt　terribly　rained　on　his　numbed　fingers；　he　felt　himself
dragged　away；　carried　like　an　inert　mass　further　and　further　from
that　gate　which　he　would　have　given　his　lifeblood　to　force　open。

And　Marguerite　heard　all　this　from　the　inside　of　the　coach　where
she　was　imprisoned　as　effectually　as　was　Percy's　unconscious　body
inside　that　dark　chapel。　　She　could　hear　the　noise　and　scramble；
and　Heron's　hoarse　commands；　the　swift　sabre　strokes　as　they　cut
through　the　air。

Already　a　trooper　had　clapped　irons　on　her　wrists；　two　others　held
the　carriage　doors。　　Now　Armand　was　lifted　back　into　the　coach；
and　she　could　not　even　help　to　make　him　comfortable；　though　as　he
was　lifted　in　she　heard　him　feebly　moaning。　Then　the　Carriage
doors　were　banged　to　again。

〃Do　not　allow　either　of　the　prisoners　out　again；　on　peril　of　your
lives！〃　came　with　a　vigorous　curse　from　Heron。

After　which　there　was　a　moment's　silence；　whispered　commands　came
spasmodically　in　deadened　sound　to　her　ear。

〃Will　the　key　turn？〃

〃Yes；　citizen。〃

〃All　secure？〃

〃Yes；　citizen。　The　prisoner　is　groaning。〃

〃Let　him　groan。〃

〃The　empty　coach；　citizen？　The　horses　have　been　taken　out。〃

〃Leave　it　standing　where　it　is；　then；　citizen　Chauvelin　will　need
it　in　the　morning。〃

〃Armand；〃　whispered　Marguerite　inside　the　coach；　〃did　you　see
Percy？〃

〃It　was　so　dark；〃　murmured　Armand　feebly；　〃but　I　saw　him；　just
inside　the　gates；　where　they　had　laid　him　down。　　I　heard　him
groaning。　　Oh；　my　God！〃

〃Hush；　dear！〃　she　said。　　〃We　can　do　nothing　more；　only　die；　as　he
lived；　bravely　and　with　a　smile　on　our　lips；　in　memory　of　him。〃

〃Number　35　is　wounded；　citizen；〃　said　one　of　the　men。

〃Curse　the　fool　who　did　the　mischief；〃　was　the　placid　response。
〃Leave　him　here　with　the　guard。〃

〃How　many　of　you　are　there　left；　then？〃　asked　the　same　voice　a
moment　later。

〃Only　two；　citizen；　if　one　whole　section　remains　with　me　at　the
chapel　door；　and　also　the　wounded　man。〃

〃Two　are　enough　for　me；　and　five　are　not　too　many　at　the　chapel
door。〃　　And　Heron's　coarse；　cruel　laugh　echoed　against　the　stone
walls　of　the　little　chapel。　　〃Now　then；　one　of　you　get　into　the
coach；　and　the　other　go　to　the　horses'　heads；　and　remember；
Corporal　Cassard；　that　you　and　your　men　who　stay　here　to　guard
that　chapel　door　are　answerable　to　the　whole　nation　with　your
lives　for　the　safety　of　the　Englishman。〃

The　carriage　door　was　thrown　open；　and　a　soldier　stepped　in　and
sat　down　opposite　Marguerite　and　Armand。　　Heron　in　the　meanwhile
was　apparently　scrambling　up　the　box。　Marguerite　could　hear　him
muttering　curses　as　he　groped　for　the　reins；　and　finally　gathered
them　into　his　hand。

The　springs　of　the　coach　creaked　and　groaned　as　the　vehicle　slowly
swung　round；　the　wheels　ploughed　deeply　through　the　soft　carpet　of
dead　leaves。

Marguerite　felt　Armand's　inert　body　leaning　heavily　against　her
shoulder。