La Dame de Monsoreau (112 page)

Bussy then heard rapid steps in the corridor, and believed he was caught between two fires.

He rushed to the door to shoot the bolts, but, before he reached it, it was opened.

He recoiled a step to put himself in an attitude to meet his new enemies as well as his old ones.

Two men rushed in through the door.

" Ah! dear master," cried one of them, " are we in time ? "

" Kemy ! " said the count.

" And I, too," cried another voice ; " it would seem an assassination is taking place here ! "

Bussy recognized the voice, and uttered a roar of joy.

" Saint-Luc !" he cried.

" Myself."

" Aha ! my dear M. de Monsoreau," said Bussy, " I believe you had better let us pass now ; for, if you do not step aside, we will pass over you."

" Three more men ! " shouted Monsoreau.

And three new bravoes appeared above the balustrade.

" Why, they must have an entire army !" said Saint-Luc.

" Shield him, 0 Lord !" prayed Diane.

" Harlot! " cried Monsoreau, and he advanced to strike her.

Bussy saw the movement. Agile as a tiger, he bounded over his iritrenchment; his sword met Monsoreau's, he made a quick lunge and touched his throat; but the distance was too great; the wound was only a scratch.

At the same time, five or six men rushed on Bussy.

One of these men fell under the sword of Saint-Luc.

" Forward ? " cried Remy.

" No, no, not forward," said Bussy ; " on the contrary, Remy, carry away Diane."

Monsoreau uttered a yell, and snatched a sword from one of the newcomers.

Kemy hesitated.

" But you ? " he asked.

" Take her away ! take her away ! " cried Bussy. " I confide her to your care."

" 0 God! O God ! " murmured Diane, " aid him !"

" Come, madame," said Kemy.

" Never ! never ! I will never leave him ! "

Rerny seized her in his arms.

" Bussy ! " cried Diane ; " Bussy, help ! help ! "

The poor woman was mad; she no longer distinguished friends from enemies ; whoever parted her from Bussy was her mortal foe.

" Go, go," said Bussy, " I will be with you soon."

" Yes," howled Monsoreau, " you will be with her ; it is what I hope."

A shot was fired. Bussy saw Remy totter, reel, and then fall, dragging Diane down with him.

Bussy uttered a cry, and turned.

" It is nothing," said Remy, " it was I that was struck by the bullet; she is safe."

Three men flung themselves on Bussy when his attention was distracted by Remy. Saint-Luc came between these three men and Bussy, and one of the three fell.

The two others recoiled.

" Saint-Luc," said Bussy, " Saint-Luc, in the name of her you love, save Diane ! "

" But you ? "

« I ? I am a man."

Saint-Luc ran to Diane, who was on her knees, took her in his arms, and disappeared with her through the door.

" Help ! " cried Monsoreau ; " those on the stairs come up ! "

" Ah ! miscreant! Ah ! coward ! " cried Bussy.

Monsoreau retired behind his men.

With a back stroke Bussy cleft open a head; with a lunge he pierced a breast.

" That rids me of some of this rubbish/' he said; then he returned behind his intrenchnient.

" Fly, master, fly ! " murmured Remy.

" What! fly before assassins ! "

Then leaning toward the young man :

" Diane must escape," said he ; " but how do you feel ? "

" Look out! " said Remy, " look out! "

Four men were rushing in through the door opening on the stairs.

He was between two bands.

But he had only one thought.

" Diane ! " he cried, " Diane ! "

Then, without losing a second, he swooped down on these four men. Taken by surprise, two of them fell, one wounded, the other dead.

Then Monsoreau advanced, and, with a bound backward, Bussy was again behind his rampart.

" Shoot in the bolts,' 7 cried the grand huntsman, " turn the key ; we have him now, we have him."

During this time, Remy, making a final effort, had crawled up to Bussy, as if he would make his body a part of the rampart.

Both sides paused for a moment.

With his legs bent, his body holding fast to the wall, and his sword pointing straight before him, Bussy cast a quick glance around.

Seven men lay on the floor, nine were standing. Bussy counted them with his eyes.

But when he saw those nine swords, and heard Monsoreau trying to lash into fury those who held them, when he felt his feet splashing in blood, this hero, who had never known fear, beheld the spectre of death looming out of the depths of the chamber and beckoning him with its dismal smile.

" Of those nine," said he to himself, « I shall kill five more, but the four left will kill me. I have only strength for ten minutes' more fighting. Well! I must do during these ten minutes what man never did before and shall never do again !"

Then taking off his cloak and wrapping it about his left arm as a buckler, with a bound he was in the centre of the room, as if he deemed it unworthy of his fame to fight any longer under cover.

Then his sword shot out in this direction and that, like the fang of a coiled viper; thrice it pierced the leather of a shoulder-belt or the buff of a jacket, and thrice a thin thread of blood ran down to his right hand along the groove of the blade.

The cloak was hacked to pieces.

When two of their men fell and a third retreated the tactics of the assassins changed ; they abandoned the sword 5 some fell on him with the butt-ends of their muskets, others fired off the pistols they had hitherto refrained from using. By his wonderful dexterity he avoided the bullets, now stooping, now leaping aside. In this supreme hour all his energies were multiplied ; not only did he see, hear, and act, but he seemed to divine every movement of his enemies, however secret or sudden. The present moment was for Bussy the moment when the created being attains the very acme of perfection; he was less than a god, for he was mortal; but he was surely more than a man.

Then he thought that to kill Monsoreau was to end the combat ; he searched for him among his assailants. But the grand huntsman, as calm as Bussy was excited, was stationed behind his cut-throats, loading their pistols or firing himself from his place of shelter.

But it was a simple thing for Bussy to make an opening; he dashed through the midst of the bandits, and was face to face with Monsoreau.

The latter, who had a loaded pistol in his hand, aimed and fired.

The bullet struck Bussy's sword, breaking off the blade six inches from the hilt.

" Disarmed !" cried Monsoreau, " disarmed ! "

Bussy recoiled a step, and, as he did so, picked up his broken blade.

In an instant he had it fastened to his wrist by means of his handkerchief.

And the fight was on anew, exhibiting the unheard of spectacle of a man almost without arms, but also almost without wounds, holding six armed men at bay and making a rampart of the ten corpses piled up before him.

The fight was on anew and became more terrible than ever. While his men were again assailing Bussy, Monsoreau, guessing that his enemy was seeking for a weapon, drew to himself all that were within the young man's reach.

Bussy was surrounded. The fragment of his sword, hacked and bent, shook in his hand; his arm Avas stiff from fatigue; he looked around; suddenly one of the corpses, as if restored to life, rose on its knees and placed in his hand a long and excellent rapier.

The corpse was Itemy ; his last effort in life was an act of self-devotion.

Bussy shouted with joy, and leaped back, to free his hand from the handkerchief and to get rid of his broken sword, which was now useless.

During the interval, Monsoreau approached E-emy, and fired a bullet into his brain.

Kemy fell back, with his skull shattered, this time to rise no more.

Bussy uttered a cry, or rather a roar.

Now that he could defend himself, his energy returned. With one hissing sweep of his sword, he cut off a wrist on his right and laid open a cheek on his left.

This double stroke cleared his way to the door.

As nimble as he was strong, he flung himself against it, and, with a violent exertion of his strength that made the wall tremble, he tried to break it in. But the bolts resisted. t Exhausted by the endeavor, Bussy dropped his right arm, while with his left he attempted to draw back the bolts behind him, but also facing his enemies.

During this time, he received a bullet in his thigh, and two swords pierced his sides.

But he had succeeded in drawing the bolts and turning the key.

With a roar of rage, and sublime in that rage, he swept one of the most ferocious of the bandits from his path, leaped at Monsoreau and wounded him in the'breast.

The grand huntsman shrieked out an oath.

" Ah !" cried Bussy, pulling the door open, " I begin to think I shall escape."

The four men flung down their weapons and threw themselves on Bussy ; their swords could not reach him, for his marvellous address rendered him invulnerable. They tried to

stifle him. But, striking them now with the pommel of his sword, now with the blade, he knocked down some and slashed others. Twice did Monsoreau come within reach of the young man's rapier and twice was he wounded.

But three men seized the hilt of his sword and tore it from his grasp.

Bu,ssy picked up a carved wooden trivet, which was used as a foot-stool, and with it smote three men, knocking down two of them, but breaking it on the shoulder of the third, who held his ground, and plunged his dagger into Bussy's chest.

The young hero seized him by the wrist, pulled out the dagger and, with a rapid turn, forced the cut-throat to stab himself.

The last of the bandits jumped through the window.

Bussy advanced two steps to follow him, but Monsoreau, who was lying among the corpses, lifted his arm and planted a knife in his hip.

Bussy uttered a cry, looked round for a sword, found one, and drove it with such force through the grand huntsman's breast that he pinned him to the floor.

" Ah! " exclaimed Bussy, " I know not if death await me, but, at least, I have witnessed yours."

Monsoreau tried to answer; but only a sigh — his last one — escaped from the half-open lips.

Bussy then dragged himself to the corridor, while the blood streamed from the wound in his thigh, and especially from the one in his hip.

He threw a last look behind him.

The moon had just emerged from a cloud in all its splendor; its beams entered this chamber inundated with blood, shone on the window, and illuminated the walls that were hacked by swords and pierced by balls, and lightly touched, as they passed, the pale features of the dead, many of whose faces bore, even in death, the savage and menacing gaze of the assassin.

At the sight of this field of battle, peopled by his valor, wounded though he was, dying though he might be, Bussy felt his soul exalted by a pride that was sublime.

As he had said, he had done what no man but he could do.

There now remained nothing to be done but to escape, to fly ; he could fly without dishonor, for he was flying before the dead.

But all was not over for the luckless young hero.

When he came to the staircase he saw the glitter of arms in the courtyard ; a shot was fired j a bullet crashed through his shoulder.

The courtyard was guarded.

Then he thought of the little window through which Diane had expressed her intention of watching the combat on the next day, and he dragged himself to it as quickly as he could.

It was open, and through it shone the light of the innumerable stars that gemmed the beautiful sky.

Bussy shut and bolted the door behind him.

He raised himself up to the window with great difficulty, bestrode the sill, and measured with his eyes the distance to the iron trellis, wondering if he could jump to the other side of it.

" Oh ! I shall never have the strength ! " he murmured.

But at that moment he heard steps on the stairs ; it was the second band coming up.

He was now utterly defenceless ; he must make an effort. With the aid of the only hand and the only foot that could be used by him, he took a leap.

But, while doing so, the sole of his boot slipped on the stone.

His feet had trampled in so much blood!

He fell on the iron points; some of them penetrated his body; others caught his clothes, and he hung suspended.

Then he thought of the only friend now left him in the world.

" Saint-Luc ! " he cried, " help ! Saint-Luc ! help !"

" Ah ! so it is you, M. de Bussy,' 1 answered a voice that came from a clump of trees.

Bussy started. The voice was not the voice of Saint-Luc.

" Saint-Luc ! " he cried again, " help ! help ! have no fear about Diane. I have killed Monsoreau."

He hoped Saint-Luc was hiding in the neighborhood and would come in response to these tidings.

" Ah ! our friend Monsoreau is killed, then ? " said another voice.

« Yes."

" Capital!"

And Bussy saw two men advancing from the trees; they were both masked.

" Gentlemen," said Bussy, " gentlemen, help a poor gentleman who can yet escape if you aid him."

" What do you say, monseigneur ? " asked one of the two, in a low voice.

" How thoughtless you are ! " said the other.

" Monseigneur! " cried Bussy, who had heard them, for the desperate nature of his position had sharpened his senses to the highest degree ; " monseigneur ! save me and I will pardon you for betraying me."

" You hear ? " said the masked man.

" What are your orders ? "

" Of course to save him."

Then he added in a tone of mockery and with a smile which his mask concealed :