"But the lady," said Bernard de Rohan, "the lady: let me go and speak to her and set her free: I have no fear of being seen."

"Leave it to me, leave it to me," said the brigand. "You shall have opportunity enough to speak with her, and she shall know who is her deliverer. Will you not trust me after all this night's work?"

"Entirely," replied Bernard de Rohan; "but it is natural, when one aids a lady in scenes like these, to wish to speak with her, to sooth and tranquillize her."

"Especially when one loves her," replied the brigand, laughing. "But you shall speak with her in a moment, only keep back for the present."

Bernard de Rohan had neither the will nor the power to resist. The brigand, indeed, might well a.s.sume the tone of command, for at that moment there could be no successful opposition to his will; but, besides this consideration, there were other feelings in the bosom of the young cavalier which inclined him to yield at once.

Everything that he had seen was calculated to surprise and perplex him.

The knowledge which his strange companion seemed to have of his history and circ.u.mstances; the state of active preparation in which he had found him, as if he had been aware, long before, of all that was about to occur, and had taken measures to meet every contingency; the interest which he had shown in an enterprise that seemed not to concern him at all, and the active and vehement opposition he had evinced to persons apparently engaged in the same trade of violence with himself, were all unaccountable to Bernard de Rohan; and he paused with some anxiety to see what would be the next act in the strange drama in which he himself was bearing a part.

While the brief conversation which I have narrated took place between the brigand and the young cavalier, the successful party had drawn closer and closer round their adversaries, and were busily disarming and tying them. This operation, being carried on with great dexterity and rapidity, had advanced considerably, when Leon again strode forward into the midst of them to give farther directions.

"Not so tight! not so tight, Antoine!" he said: "you'll cut his wrists with those thongs. Take off his corslet, Pierre. You cannot get it off when his arms are tied. If he resists, pitch him over into the stream.

That horse will break away and be lost. Some of you come and untie my Lord of Ma.s.seran and his people. n.o.ble signior," he continued, and Bernard de Rohan thought that he heard a good deal of bitter mockery in his tone, "I pray you tell me what is to be done with these insolent villains, who have dared to lay violent hands upon you and your lady wife's fair daughter. Shall we either put them to death on the spot--which, perhaps, would be the wisest plan, as the dead are very silent--or shall we send them, bound hand and foot, to your chateau, that you may give them your own directions as to what they are to say and do?"

These words were addressed to a tall, graceful man, somewhere between forty and fifty years of age, who had appeared as one among the prisoners of the party just overthrown. He seemed not particularly well pleased with the brigand's speech, and replied in a tone somewhat sullen, "You must do with them as you please, sir, and with us also, though from your words I suppose that you mean us good and not evil."

"Oh, certainly, my good lord," replied the other; "I am here to free you, and you shall be safely conducted by my people to your own abode.

Am I, by your authority, then, to treat these men as they deserve?"

The Lord of Ma.s.seran seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then replied sharply, "By all means! By all means! They well deserve punishment."

"Oh! spare them! spare them!" cried a lady's voice. "They have done evil, certainly; but they might have treated us worse. Do not hurt them, sir."

"Lady," replied the brigand, "I will only punish them as they deserve, and you yourself shall hear the sentence. Strip off every man's coat.

Take off the bridles of their horses, and therewith flog them down the valley to Gandelot's inn. When they are there, they will know what to do with themselves. Now, lady, this is but small measure of retribution for bad acts. Quick, my men, quick. You must take them over the hill, for the bridge is broken."

He then spoke a few words to one of his companions in a low tone; after which he returned once more to Bernard de Rohan, who had remained behind, asked particularly after the wounds he had received, and inquired whether he were fit to escort a lady some two leagues that night. He spoke with a smile, and there was no hesitation in the young cavalier's reply. Before their short conversation was ended, the brigand's orders in regard to his prisoners were in the act of execution; and certain it is that the discipline to which they were subjected was sufficiently severe, if one might judge by many a piteous cry which echoed up the valley for some minutes after they were driven in a crowd down the road. The young lady covered her eyes with her hands and remained silent; but a grim smile came upon the countenance of the Lord of Ma.s.seran, as if there was something pleasant to him in the music of human suffering.

There were still some ten or twelve of Leon's band around, and their next task was to untie the hands of such of the Lord of Ma.s.seran's people as were still bound. "Now, sir," continued the brigand, as soon as this was accomplished, "you shall have good escort back to your chateau. But we must go in separate parties. You and your four servants under the careful protection of Elois here, by the mountain path you know of. The young lady I myself will escort by the longer, but the smoother road."

"Nay! nay!" exclaimed the Lord of Ma.s.seran, quickly. "Why separate us?

If you mean well by her, why not let--"

"Because it pleases me not," replied the brigand, in a stern tone. "Who is lord here upon the side of the mountain but I? You are lord in your chateau, and none dare answer you. But I am lord in the moonlight and on the hillside, and none shall answer me."

"Oh! in pity, in pity!" exclaimed the young lady, holding out her hands with a gesture of entreaty. But the brigand advanced to her horse's side, and spoke a word to her in a low tone. She let her hands drop again without reply, and Bernard de Rohan, who had remained in the shade, while the moonlight fell full upon her, could see her eyes suddenly turn towards the spot where he stood.

"Lead on the Lord of Ma.s.seran, Elois," said the voice of Corse de Leon.

"Leave that poor fellow who seems wounded with the lady, and take the rest with you."

There was no reply, and the Savoyard n.o.bleman, with his companions, was led on by a strong party of the brigands up the valley, and then across the stream. As he pa.s.sed Bernard de Rohan, he fixed his eyes upon him for a moment, but made no observation; and, at the same time, the brigand held up his finger to the young cavalier, as if directing him still to forbear for a time.

As soon as the hill hid the other party from their sight, Bernard de Rohan, unable to bear the restraint any longer, sprang forward to the lady's side, and threw his arms around her. His head was bare, and, as he looked up towards her, the moonlight fell full upon his face. As if still doubtful, however, she gazed wildly and eagerly upon him; parted the curls of his hair with her hands back from his forehead; then threw her arms round his neck, and, bending her head, wept upon his shoulder.

CHAPTER IV.

"At length! at length! Bernard," said the voice of the young lady; and the heart of Bernard de Rohan echoed the words "At length! at length!"

as he pressed her hand in his.

"At length! at length! Bernard," she said, "you have come back to me."

"Did you not send me from you yourself, Isabel?" he said, thinking there was something almost reproachful in her tone. "And have I not returned the moment you told me I might; the moment you called me to aid, and, I trust, to deliver you? Would I ever have quitted you but at your own word?"

"It is true! it is all true!" she said, in a gentle tone: "but I knew not, dear Bernard, all that was to befall me; all the painful, the anxious circ.u.mstances in which I was to be placed. We were then too young, far too young, for me to press my father's promise. I had no right to rob you of so many years of glory. My brother, too, wanted protection and guidance in the field. At that time, everything looked bright, and I thought that you, Bernard, would lead him forth to honour and bring him back in safety. I knew you would, and you have done it.

But in those days I little dreamed that my mother, in her widowhood, would willingly wed a stranger, and make her hand the hire of this Savoyard, to serve the cause of France against his native prince. But you have returned to me, Bernard," she continued, in a more joyful tone; "you have returned to me, and all will be well again."

So ever thinks the inexperienced heart of youth, when, even for a single moment, the dark clouds break away, and a ray of sunshine, however transient, brightens up a day of storms.

"Be not too sure of that, lady!" said the deep voice of the brigand; "be not too sure of that! There have been more dangers around you already than you know of. They have not yet pa.s.sed away, and, perchance, may fall upon him as well as you."

"Heaven forbid!" she cried, turning her eyes first upon the countenance of the man who spoke, and then with a softer and a tenderer look upon her lover. "If it is to be so, I shall wish you back again, Bernard."

"Not so," said the brigand, "not so! We are fools to think that life is to be a bright day, uncheckered with storms or misfortunes. There is but one summer in the year, lady: the winter is as long; the autumn has its frosts and its sear leaves; and the spring its cold winds and its weeping skies. In the life of any one the bright portion is but small, and he must have his share of dangers and sorrows as well as the rest.

They will be lighter if you share them, and if he shares yours. Let us go forward on our way, however. Will you mount one of these horses, baron, or walk by the lady's side? Oh, walk, will you? Then follow the onward path. We will come on some hundred yards behind, near enough to guard you, but not to interrupt."

Bernard de Rohan and the lady proceeded on their way. Nor did they fail to take advantage of the moments thus afforded for conversing alone, though no one in such circ.u.mstances does take sufficient advantage of the moments. Our minds are so full of thoughts, our hearts so full of feelings, that they crowd and confuse each other in seeking to make their way forth. But a small part is ever spoken of that which might be spoken; and, had the time of their journey been more than doubled, there would still have been questions to ask, and plans to arrange, and hopes, and wishes, and fears to express; and Love, too, would have had a world to tell and to hear; and many a caress would have remained to be given, and many a vow would yet have required to be renewed.

Thus, when at length, after advancing for nearly two hours, several distant lights were seen upon the side of a dark hill beyond, as if issuing from the windows of some building, they found that they had not said half that they might have said, and wished that the minutes could come over again. It is not, indeed, in such circ.u.mstances alone that man casts away opportunities. It is all his life long, and every moment of his life. Those opportunities are like the beautiful wild flowers that blossom in every meadow and in every hedge, while, heedless or careless, unseeing or unknowing, man pa.s.ses them by continually, or walks upon his way, and tramples them under his feet.

When they reached that spot, however, and the castle of Ma.s.seran was before their eyes, the brigand came up at a quick pace, saying, "Let us pause a moment, and see whether our companions have arrived before us.

It might be dangerous for his deliverers to come too near the Lord of Ma.s.seran's gates without sufficient numbers."

As he thus spoke, he put the peculiar whistle which he carried to his lips, producing a lower sound than before, but sufficiently loud to be heard around, and call forth many an answer up to the very gates of the castle itself.

"They are here," continued the brigand, "and the good lord is in his hold. Now, lady, you have doubtless promised things which you may find it difficult to perform. You have promised to see this n.o.ble cavalier, and give him--if needs must be, by stealth--the happiness of your presence; but I know better than you do how things will befall you. You will be watched; you will never be suffered to leave that castle's gates without a train, which will cut you off from speaking with any one. The gardens of the castle, however, will doubtless be free, for the walls are high, the gates securely locked, and the way up to them watched.

Nevertheless, there is the small postern in the corner of the lowest terrace, hid by a tall yew-tree: lay your hand upon the handle of the lock at any time of the day you please. If it open not at the first trial, wait a moment, and try it again. You shall never try it three times without finding that door give way to your hand."

"But he tells me," said the lady, speaking more directly to what was pa.s.sing in the brigand's thoughts than to what he actually expressed, "but he tells me that he is actually on his way to visit my mother's husband, charged with messages of import to him from the n.o.ble Marquis of Brissac, and that to-morrow morning he will be there, openly demanding admittance."

"See him in the evening also, lady, whatever befall," replied the other.

"There are more dangers round you than you wot of. But I will speak to him farther as we return. Now you had better go on."

A few minutes more brought them nearly to the gates of the castle. The brigand had remained behind to wait the coming up of his people. Bernard de Rohan turned to see if they were approaching; but he could now perceive no one upon the road but a single figure coming slowly on at some distance, and leading a horse by the bridle. It was a moment not to be lost. Once more he threw his arms round the lady beside him, and she bent her head till their lips met. There were no farther words between them but a few unconnected names of tenderness, and in a minute or two after they were joined by the wounded servant, who had remained behind with the lady and those who accompanied her when the Lord of Ma.s.seran and the rest were sent on.

"Ah! my lord," he said, looking wistfully in the face of the young cavalier, "you have forgotten me, but I have not forgotten you; and if it had not been for my love and duty to my young mistress, I would have been with you in Italy long ago, especially when the countess sold herself to her stranger husband."

"No, indeed, Henriot, I have not forgotten you," replied Bernard de Rohan; "and I beseech you, for love of me as well as your young mistress, stay with her still, and be ever near her. I much doubt this Lord of Ma.s.seran, and have heard no little evil of him. She may want help in moments of need, and none can give her better aid than yourself; but I fear you have been much hurt," he added, "for you walk feebly even now."

"It will soon pa.s.s, my lord," replied the man; "but I see a light at the gate: we had better go on quickly, if, as I judge, you would not be recognised."

Bernard de Rohan took one more embrace, and then parted with her he loved. He paused upon the road till, by the light which still shone from the gate of the castle, he saw her and her follower enter and disappear beneath the low-browed arch. He then turned away, and retrod his steps along the side of the hill. He was left to do so for some way in solitude, though he doubted not that the hillside and the valley below him were both much more replete with human life than they seemed to be.

At the distance of little more than half a mile from the castle he was forced to pause, for the moon had now sunk behind the mountain, and there were two roads, one branching to either hand.