Authors: Baroness Emmuska Orczy
Something of what she felt and thought must have been apparent in her
expressive eyes, for presently it seemed to her as if beneath the narrow
curtain that concealed the lower part of the man's face there hovered
the shadow of a smile.
The next moment he had the audacity slightly to raise his hat and to
make her a bow before he finally turned to go. Crystal had taken one
step backward just then, whether because she was afraid that the man
would try and approach her, or because of a mere sense of dignity, she
could not herself have said. Certain it is that she did move back and
that in so doing her foot came in contact with an object lying on the
ground. The shape and size of it were unmistakable, it was the pistol
which the Comte must have dropped when first he stepped out of the
carriage, and was seized upon by this band of thieves. Guided by that
same strange and wonderful instinct which has so often caused women in
times of war to turn against the assailants of their men or devastation
of their homes, Crystal picked up the weapon without a moment's
hesitation; she knew that it was loaded, and she knew how to use it.
Even as the masked man moved away into the darkness, she fired in the
direction whence his firm footsteps still sent their repeated echo.
The short, sharp report died out in the still, frosty air; Crystal
vainly strained her ears to catch the sound of a fall or a groan. But in
the confusion that ensued she could not distinguish any individual
sound. She knew that Mme. la Duchesse and Jeanne had screamed, she heard
a few loud curses, the clatter of bits and bridles, the snorting of
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horses and presently the noise of several horses galloping away, out in
the direction of Chambéry.
Then nothing more.
M. le Comte as well as the coachman and postillions were lying helpless
and bound somewhere in the darkness. It took the three women some time
to find them first and then to release them.
Crystal with great presence of mind had run to the horses' heads,
directly after she had fired that random shot. The poor, frightened
animals had reared and plunged, and had thereby succeeded in dragging
the heavy carriage out of the ditch. After which they had stopped, rigid
for a moment and trembling as horses will sometimes when they are
terrified, before they start running away for dear life. That moment was
Crystal's opportunity and fortunately she took it at the right time and
in the right way.
A hand on the leaders' bridles, a soothing voice, the absence of further
alarming noises tended at once to quieten the team—a set of good steady
Normandy draft-horses with none too much corn in their bellies to heat
their sluggish blood.
While Crystal stood at her post, Mme. la Duchesse—cool and
practical—found her way firstly to M. le Comte, then to the coachman
and postillions, and ordering Jeanne to help her, she succeeded in
freeing the men from their bonds.
Then calling to one of them to precede her with a lanthorn, she started
on the quest for Maurice de St. Genis. He was found—as that abominable
thief had said—some two hundred yards up the road, very securely bound
and with his own handkerchief tied round his mouth, but otherwise
comfortably laid on a dry bit of roadside grass.
Mme. la Duchesse would not reply to his questions, but
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after he was
released and able to stand up she made him give her a brief account of
his adventure. It had all been so sudden and so quick—he had fallen
back a little behind the carriage as soon as the night had set in, as he
thought it safer to keep along the edge of the road. He was feeling
tired and drowsy, and allowing his horse to amble along in the slow
jog-trot peculiar to its race. No doubt his attention had for some time
been on the wander, when, all at once, in the darkness someone seized
hold of his horse by the bridle and forced it back upon its haunches.
The next moment Maurice felt himself grabbed by the leg, and dragged off
his horse: he shouted for help, but the carriage was on ahead and its
own rattle prevented the shouts from being heard. After which he was
bound and gagged and summarily left to lie by the roadside. He had had
no chance against the ruffians, as they were numerous, but they did not
attempt to ill-use him in any way.
Slowly hobbling towards the carriage beside Mme. la Duchesse, for he was
cramped and stiff, Maurice told her all there was to tell. He had heard
the distant scuffle, the shouts and calls, also one pistol-shot at the
end, but he had been rendered helpless even before the carriage had come
to a halt in the ditch.
It was M. le Comte who in his accustomed measured tones now gave Maurice
de St. Genis the details of this awful adventure: the ransacking of the
carriage by the mysterious miscreant—the loss of the twenty-five
millions, the complete shattering of all hope to help the King with this
money in the hour of his need, and finally Crystal's desperate act of
revenge, as she shot the pistol off into the darkness, hoping at least
to disable the impudent rogue who had done them and the King such a
fatal injury.
St. Genis listened to it all with lips held tightly pressed together,
firm determination causing every muscle in his
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body to grow taut and
firm with the earnestness of his resolve.
When M. le Comte had finished speaking, and with a sigh of
discouragement had suggested an immediate continuation of his journey,
Maurice said resolutely:
"Do you go on straightway to Lyons with the ladies, my dear Comte, but I
shall not leave this neighbourhood till by some means or other I find
those miscreants and lay their infamous leader by the heel."
"Well spoken, Maurice," said the Comte guardedly, "but how will you do
it?—it is late and the night darker than ever."
"You must spare me one of your horses, my dear Comte," replied the young
man, "as mine apparently has been stolen by those abominable thieves,
and I'll ride back to the nearest village—you remember we passed it not
half an hour ago. I'll get lodgings there and get some information. In
the meanwhile perhaps you will see M. le Comte d'Artois immediately,
tell him all that has happened and beg him to send me as early in the
morning as possible a dozen cavalrymen or so, to help me scour the
country. I'll be on the look-out for them on this road by six o'clock,
and, please God! the day shall not go by before we have those infamous
marauders by the heels. Twenty-five millions, remember, are not dragged
about open country quite so easily as those thieves imagine. They are
bound to leave some trace of their whereabouts sometimes."
He appeared so confident and so cheerful that some of his optimism
infected M. le Comte too. The latter promised to get an audience of M.
le Comte d'Artois that very evening, and of course the necessary cavalry
patrol would at once be forthcoming.
"God grant you success, Maurice," he added fervently, and the young
man's energy and enthusiasm were also rewarded by a warm, glowing look
from Crystal.
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A quarter of an hour afterwards, M. le Comte's travelling coach was once
more ready for departure. Pierre had been given his orders to make due
haste for Lyons, and to drive a unicorn team of three horses instead of
a regulation four, whereupon he had muttered a string of oaths which
would have caused a Paris wine-shop loafer to blush.
One of the horses thereupon was detached from the team for Maurice's use
and made ready with one of the postillions' saddles; the other
postillion had to climb up to the seat next to the coachman: all three
men were feeling not a little shamed at the sorry rôle which they had
just played, and they vowed revenge against the mysterious thieves who
had sprung upon them unawares and in the dark, or Mordieu! they would
have suffered severely for their impudence.
In silence M. le Comte, Mme. la Duchesse and Crystal, followed by
faithful Jeanne, re-entered the carriage. No one had been hurt. M. le
Comte's arms felt a little stiff from the cords which had bound them
behind his back and Jeanne was inclined to be hysterical, but Crystal
felt a fierce resentment burning in her heart. Somehow she had no hope
that Maurice would succeed, even though she threw him at the last a
kindly and encouraging smile. Her one hope was that she had inflicted a
painful if not a deadly wound upon the shameless robber of the King's
money.
Soon the party was once more comfortably settled and the cumbrous
vehicle, after another violent lurch, was once more on its way.
"Farewell, Maurice! good luck!" called M. le Comte at the last.
The young man waited until the heavy carriage swung more easily upon its
springs, then he mounted his horse, turned its head in the opposite
direction and rode slowly back up the road.
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Inside the vehicle all was silent for a while, then M. le Comte asked
quietly:
"Did he find everything?"
"Everything," replied Crystal.
"I put in five wallets."
"Yes. He took them all."
"It is curious they should have fallen on us just by that broken
bridge."
"They were lying in wait for us, of course."
"Knowing that we had the money, do you think?" asked the Comte.
"Of course," replied Crystal with still that note of bitter resentment
in her voice.
"But who, besides ourselves and the préfet? . . ." began the Comte, who
clearly was very puzzled.
"Victor de Marmont for one . . ." retorted the girl.
"Surely you don't suppose that he would play the rôle of a highwayman
and . . ."
"No, I don't," she broke in somewhat impatiently, "he wouldn't have the
pluck for one thing, and moreover the masked man was considerably taller
than Victor."
"Well, then?"
"It is only an idea, father, dear," she said more gently, "but somehow I
cannot believe that this was just ordinary highway robbery. This road is
supposed to be quite safe: travellers are not warned against armed
highwaymen, and marauders wouldn't be so well horsed and clothed. My
belief is that it was a paid gang stationed at the broken bridge on
purpose to rob us and no one else."
"Maurice will soon be after them to-morrow, and I'll see M. le Comte
d'Artois directly we get to Lyons," said the Comte after a slight pause,
during which he was obviously pondering over his daughter's suggestion.
"It won't be any use, father," Crystal said with a sigh. "The whole
thing has been organised, I feel sure, and the
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head that planned this
abominable robbery will know how to place his booty in safety."
Whereupon the Comte sighed, for he was too well-bred to curse in the
presence of his daughter and his sister, Mme. la Duchesse had said
nothing all this while: nor did she offer any comment upon the
mysterious occurrence all the time that the next stage of the wearisome
journey proceeded.
Less than an hour later the coach came to a halt once more.
M. le Comte woke up with a start.
"My God!" he exclaimed, "what is it now?"
Crystal had not been asleep: her thoughts were too busy, her brain too
much tormented with trying to find some plausible answer to the riddle
which agitated her: "Who had planned this abominable robbery? Was it
indeed Victor de Marmont himself? or had a greater, a mightier mind than
his discovered the secret of this swift journey to Paris and ordered the
clever raid upon the treasure?"
The rumble of the wheels had—though she was awake—prevented her from
hearing the rapid approach of a number of horses in the wake of the
coach, until a peremptory: "Halt! in the name of the Emperor!" suddenly
chased every other thought away; like her father she murmured: "My God!
what is it now?"
This time there was no mystery, there would be no puzzlement as to the
meaning of this fresh attack. The air was full of those sounds that
denote the presence of many horses and of many men; there was, too, the
clinking of metal, the champing of steel bits, the brief words of
command which proclaimed the men to be soldiers.
They appeared to be all round the coach, for the noise of their presence
came from everywhere at once.
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Already the Comte had put his head out of the window: "What is it now?"
he asked again, more peremptorily this time.
"In the name of the Emperor!" was the loud reply.
"We do not halt in the name of an usurper," said the Comte. "En avant,
Pierre!"
"You urge those horses on at your peril, coachman," was the defiant
retort.
A quick word of command was given, there was more clanking of metal,
snorting of horses, loud curses from Pierre on the box, and the
commanding voice spoke again:
"M. le Comte de Cambray!"
"That is my name!" replied the Comte. "And who is it, pray, who dares
impede peaceful travellers on their way?"
"By order of the Emperor," was the curt reply.
"I know of no such person in France!"
"Vive l'Empereur!" was shouted defiantly in response.
Whereupon M. le Comte de Cambray—proud, disdainful and determined to
show no fear or concern, withdrew from the window and threw himself back
against the cushions of the carriage.
"What in the Virgin's name is the meaning of this?" murmured Mme. la
Duchesse.
"God in heaven only knows," sighed the Comte.
But obviously the coach had not been stopped by a troop of mounted
soldiers for the mere purpose of proclaiming the Emperor's name on the
high road in the dark. The same commanding voice which had answered the
Comte's challenge was giving rapid orders to dismount and to bring along
one of the carriage lanthorns.
The next moment the door of the coach was opened from without, and the
light of the lanthorn held up by a man in uniform fell full on the
figure and on the profile of Victor de Marmont.