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  Portion 3

  Far on in the night there were voices outside reached us in ourhiding-place; an angry knocking at the door, and we saw through thechinks the old woman rouse herself up to go and open it for her master,who came in, evidently half drunk. To my sick horror, he was followedby Lefebvre, apparently as sober and wily as ever. They were talkingtogether as they came in, disputing about something; but the millerstopped the conversation to swear at the old woman for having fallenasleep, and, with tipsy anger, and even with blows, drove the poor oldcreature out of the kitchen to bed. Then he and Lefebvre went ontalking--about the Sieur de Poissy's disappearance. It seemed thatLefebvre had been out all day, along with other of my husband's men,ostensibly assisting in the search; in all probability trying to blindthe Sieur de Poissy's followers by putting them on a wrong scent, andalso, I fancied, from one or two of Lefebvre's sly questions, combiningthe hidden purpose of discovering us.

  Although the miller was tenant and vassal to the Sieur de Poissy, heseemed to me to be much more in league with the people of M. de laTourelle. He was evidently aware, in part, of the life which Lefebvreand the others led; although, again, I do not suppose he knew orimagined one-half of their crimes; and also, I think, he was seriouslyinterested in discovering the fate of his master, little suspectingLefebvre of murder or violence. He kept talking himself, and lettingout all sorts of thoughts and opinions; watched by the keen eyes ofLefebvre gleaming out below his shaggy eyebrows. It was evidently notthe cue of the latter to let out that his master's wife had escapedfrom that vile and terrible den; but though he never breathed a wordrelating to us, not the less was I certain he was thirsting for ourblood, and lying in wait for us at every turn of events. Presently hegot up and took his leave; and the miller bolted him out, and stumbledoff to bed. Then we fell asleep, and slept sound and long.

  The next morning, when I awoke, I saw Amante, half raised, resting onone hand, and eagerly gazing, with straining eyes, into the kitchenbelow. I looked too, and both heard and saw the miller and two of hismen eagerly and loudly talking about the old woman, who had notappeared as usual to make the fire in the stove, and prepare hermaster's breakfast, and who now, late on in the morning, had been founddead in her bed; whether from the effect of her master's blows thenight before, or from natural causes, who can tell? The miller'sconscience upbraided him a little, I should say, for he was eagerlydeclaring his value for his housekeeper, and repeating how often shehad spoken of the happy life she led with him. The men might have theirdoubts, but they did not wish to offend the miller, and all agreed thatthe necessary steps should be taken for a speedy funeral. And so theywent out, leaving us in our loft, but so much alone, that, for thefirst time almost, we ventured to speak freely, though still in hushedvoice, pausing to listen continually. Amante took a more cheerful viewof the whole occurrence than I did. She said that, had the old womanlived, we should have had to depart that morning, and that this quietdeparture would have been the best thing we could have had to hope for,as, in all probability, the housekeeper would have told her master ofus and of our resting-place, and this fact would, sooner or later, havebeen brought to the knowledge of those from whom we most desired tokeep it concealed; but that now we had time to rest, and a shelter torest in, during the first hot pursuit, which we knew to a fatalcertainty was being carried on. The remnants of our food, and thestored-up fruit, would supply us with provision; the only thing to befeared was, that something might be required from the loft, and themiller or someone else mount up in search of it. But even then, with alittle arrangement of boxes and chests, one part might be so kept inshadow that we might yet escape observation. All this comforted me alittle; but, I asked, how were we ever to escape? The ladder was takenaway, which was our only means of descent. But Amante replied that shecould make a sufficient ladder of the rope lying coiled among otherthings, to drop us down the ten feet or so--with the advantage of itsbeing portable, so that we might carry it away, and thus avoid allbetrayal of the fact that any one had ever been hidden in the loft.

  During the two days that intervened before we did escape, Amante madegood use of her time. She looked into every box and chest during theman's absence at his mill; and finding in one box an old suit of man'sclothes, which had probably belonged to the miller's absent son, sheput them on to see if they would fit her; and, when she found that theydid, she cut her own hair to the shortness of a man's, made me clip herblack eyebrows as close as though they had been shaved, and by cuttingup old corks into pieces such as would go into her cheeks, she alteredboth the shape of her face and her voice to a degree which I should nothave believed possible.

  All this time I lay like one stunned; my body resting, and renewing itsstrength, but I myself in an almost idiotic state--else surely I couldnot have taken the stupid interest which I remember I did in allAmante's energetic preparations for disguise. I absolutely recollectonce the feeling of a smile coming over my stiff face as some newexercise of her cleverness proved a success.

  But towards the second day, she required me, too, to exert myself; andthen all my heavy despair returned. I let her dye my fair hair andcomplexion with the decaying shells of the stored-up walnuts, I let herblacken my teeth, and even voluntarily broke a front tooth the betterto effect my disguise. But through it all I had no hope of evading myterrible husband. The third night the funeral was over, the drinkingended, the guests gone; the miller put to bed by his men, being toodrunk to help himself. They stopped a little while in the kitchen,talking and laughing about the new housekeeper likely to come; andthey, too, went off, shutting, but not locking the door. Everythingfavoured us. Amante had tried her ladder on one of the two previousnights, and could, by a dexterous throw from beneath, unfasten it fromthe hook to which it was fixed, when it had served its office; she madeup a bundle of worthless old clothes in order that we might the betterpreserve our characters of a travelling pedlar and his wife; shestuffed a hump on her back, she thickened my figure, she left her ownclothes deep down beneath a heap of others in the chest from which shehad taken the man's dress which she wore; and with a few francs in herpocket--the sole money we had either of us had about us when weescaped--we let ourselves down the ladder, unhooked it, and passed intothe cold darkness of night again.

  We had discussed the route which it would be well for us to take whilewe lay perdues in our loft. Amante had told me then that her reason forinquiring, when we first left Les Rochers, by which way I had firstbeen brought to it, was to avoid the pursuit which she was sure wouldfirst be made in the direction of Germany; but that now she thought wemight return to that district of country where my German fashion ofspeaking French would excite least observation. I thought that Amanteherself had something peculiar in her accent, which I had heard M. dela Tourelle sneer at as Norman patois; but I said not a word beyondagreeing to her proposal that we should bend our steps towards Germany.Once there, we should, I thought, be safe. Alas! I forgot the unrulytime that was overspreading all Europe, overturning all law, and allthe protection which law gives.

  How we wandered--not daring to ask our way--how we lived, how westruggled through many a danger and still more terrors of danger, Ishall not tell you now. I will only relate two of our adventures beforewe reached Frankfort. The first, although fatal to an innocent lady,was yet, I believe, the cause of my safety; the second I shall tellyou, that you may understand why I did not return to my former home, asI had hoped to do when we lay in the miller's loft, and I first becamecapable of groping after an idea of what my future life might be. Icannot tell you how much in these doubtings and wanderings I becameattached to Amante. I have sometimes feared since, lest I cared for heronly because she was so necessary to my own safety; but, no! it was notso; or not so only, or principally. She said once that she was flyingfor her own life as well as for mine; but we dared not speak much onour danger, or on the horrors that had gone before. We planned a littlewhat was to be our future course; but even for that we did not lookforward long; how could we, when every day we scarce
ly knew if weshould see the sun go down? For Amante knew or conjectured far morethan I did of the atrocity of the gang to which M. de la Tourellebelonged; and every now and then, just as we seemed to be sinking intothe calm of security, we fell upon traces of a pursuit after us in alldirections. Once I remember--we must have been nearly three weekswearily walking through unfrequented ways, day after day, not daring tomake inquiry as to our whereabouts, nor yet to seem purposeless in ourwanderings--we came to a kind of lonely roadside farrier's andblacksmith's. I was so tired, that Amante declared that, come whatmight, we would stay there all night; and accordingly she entered thehouse, and boldly announced herself as a travelling tailor, ready to doany odd jobs of work that might be required, for a night's lodging andfood for herself and wife. She had adopted this plan once or twicebefore, and with good success; for her father had been a tailor inRouen, and as a girl she had often helped him with his work, and knewthe tailors' slang and habits, down to the particular whistle and crywhich in France tells so much to those of a trade. At thisblacksmith's, as at most other solitary houses far away from a town,there was not only a store of men's clothes laid by as wanting mendingwhen the housewife could afford time, but there was a natural cravingafter news from a distance, such news as a wandering tailor is bound tofurnish. The early November afternoon was closing into evening, as wesat down, she cross-legged on the great table in the blacksmith'skitchen, drawn close to the window, I close behind her, sewing atanother part of the same garment, and from time to time well scolded bymy seeming husband. All at once she turned round to speak to me. It wasonly one word, 'Courage!' I had seen nothing; I sat out of the light;but I turned sick for an instant, and then I braced myself up into astrange strength of endurance to go through I knew not what.

  The blacksmith's forge was in a shed beside the house, and fronting theroad. I heard the hammers stop plying their continual rhythmical beat.She had seen why they ceased. A rider had come up to the forge anddismounted, leading his horse in to be re-shod. The broad red light ofthe forge-fire had revealed the face of the rider to Amante, and sheapprehended the consequence that really ensued.

  The rider, after some words with the blacksmith, was ushered in by himinto the house-place where we sat.

  'Here, good wife, a cup of wine and some galette for this gentleman.'

  'Anything, anything, madame, that I can eat and drink in my hand whilemy horse is being shod. I am in haste, and must get on to Forbachto-night.'

  The blacksmith's wife lighted her lamp; Amante had asked her for itfive minutes before. How thankful we were that she had not morespeedily complied with our request! As it was, we sat in dusk shadow,pretending to stitch away, but scarcely able to see. The lamp wasplaced on the stove, near which my husband, for it was he, stood andwarmed himself. By-and-by he turned round, and looked all over the room,taking us in with about the same degree of interest as the inanimatefurniture. Amante, cross-legged, fronting him, stooped over her work,whistling softly all the while. He turned again to the stove,impatiently rubbing his hands. He had finished his wine and galette,and wanted to be off.

  'I am in haste, my good woman. Ask thy husband to get on more quickly.I will pay him double if he makes haste.'

  The woman went out to do his bidding; and he once more turned round toface us. Amante went on to the second part of the tune. He took it up,whistled a second for an instant or so, and then the blacksmith's wifere-entering, he moved towards her, as if to receive her answer the morespeedily.

  'One moment, monsieur--only one moment. There was a nail out of theoff-foreshoe which my husband is replacing; it would delay monsieuragain if that shoe also came off.'

  'Madame is right,' said he, 'but my haste is urgent. If madame knew myreasons, she would pardon my impatience. Once a happy husband, now adeserted and betrayed man, I pursue a wife on whom I lavished all mylove, but who has abused my confidence, and fled from my house,doubtless to some paramour; carrying off with her all the jewels andmoney on which she could lay her hands. It is possible madame may haveheard or seen something of her; she was accompanied in her flight by abase, profligate woman from Paris, whom I, unhappy man, had myselfengaged for my wife's waiting-maid, little dreaming what corruption Iwas bringing into my house!'

  'Is it possible?' said the good woman, throwing up her hands.

  Amante went on whistling a little lower, out of respect to theconversation.

  'However, I am tracing the wicked fugitives; I am on their track' (andthe handsome, effeminate face looked as ferocious as any demon's).'They will not escape me; but every minute is a minute of misery to me,till I meet my wife. Madame has sympathy, has she not?'

  He drew his face into a hard, unnatural smile, and then both went outto the forge, as if once more to hasten the blacksmith over his work.

  Amante stopped her whistling for one instant.

  'Go on as you are, without change of an eyelid even; in a few minuteshe will be gone, and it will be over!'

  It was a necessary caution, for I was on the point of giving way, andthrowing myself weakly upon her neck. We went on; she whistling andstitching, I making semblance to sew. And it was well we did so; foralmost directly he came back for his whip, which he had laid down andforgotten; and again I felt one of those sharp, quick-scanning glances,sent all round the room, and taking in all.

  Then we heard him ride away; and then, it had been long too dark to seewell, I dropped my work, and gave way to my trembling and shuddering.The blacksmith's wife returned. She was a good creature. Amante toldher I was cold and weary, and she insisted on my stopping my work, andgoing to sit near the stove; hastening, at the same time, herpreparations for supper, which, in honour of us, and of monsieur'sliberal payment, was to be a little less frugal than ordinary. It waswell for me that she made me taste a little of the cider-soup she waspreparing, or I could not have held up, in spite of Amante's warninglook, and the remembrance of her frequent exhortations to actresolutely up to the characters we had assumed, whatever befell. Tocover my agitation, Amante stopped her whistling, and began to talk;and, by the time the blacksmith came in, she and the good woman of thehouse were in full flow. He began at once upon the handsome gentleman,who had paid him so well; all his sympathy was with him, and both heand his wife only wished he might overtake his wicked wife, and punishher as she deserved. And then the conversation took a turn, notuncommon to those whose lives are quiet and monotonous; every oneseemed to vie with each other in telling about some horror; and thesavage and mysterious band of robbers called the Chauffeurs, whoinfested all the roads leading to the Rhine, with Schinderhannes attheir head, furnished many a tale which made the very marrow of mybones run cold, and quenched even Amante's power of talking. Her eyesgrew large and wild, her cheeks blanched, and for once she sought byher looks help from me. The new call upon me roused me. I rose andsaid, with their permission my husband and I would seek our bed, forthat we had travelled far and were early risers. I added that we wouldget up betimes, and finish our piece of work. The blacksmith said weshould be early birds if we rose before him; and the good wife secondedmy proposal with kindly bustle. One other such story as those they hadbeen relating, and I do believe Amante would have fainted.

  As it was, a night's rest set her up; we arose and finished our workbetimes, and shared the plentiful breakfast of the family. Then we hadto set forth again; only knowing that to Forbach we must not go, yetbelieving, as was indeed the case, that Forbach lay between us and thatGermany to which we were directing our course. Two days more wewandered on, making a round, I suspect, and returning upon the road toForbach, a league or two nearer to that town than the blacksmith'shouse. But as we never made inquiries I hardly knew where we were, whenwe came one night to a small town, with a good large rambling inn inthe very centre of the principal street. We had begun to feel as ifthere were more safety in towns than in the loneliness of the country.As we had parted with a ring of mine not many days before to atravelling jeweller, who was too glad to purchase it far below its realvalue to mak
e many inquiries as to how it came into the possession of apoor working tailor, such as Amante seemed to be, we resolved to stayat this inn all night, and gather such particulars and information aswe could by which to direct our onward course.

  We took our supper in the darkest corner of the salle-a-manger, havingpreviously bargained for a small bedroom across the court, and over thestables. We needed food sorely; but we hurried on our meal from dreadof any one entering that public room who might recognize us. Just inthe middle of our meal, the public diligence drove lumbering up underthe _porte-cochere_, and disgorged its passengers. Most of them turnedinto the room where we sat, cowering and fearful, for the door wasopposite to the porter's lodge, and both opened on to the wide-coveredentrance from the street. Among the passengers came in a young,fair-haired lady, attended by an elderly French maid. The poor youngcreature tossed her head, and shrank away from the common room, full ofevil smells and promiscuous company, and demanded, in German French, tobe taken to some private apartment. We heard that she and her maid hadcome in the coupe, and, probably from pride, poor young lady! she hadavoided all association with her fellow-passengers, thereby excitingtheir dislike and ridicule. All these little pieces of hearsay had asignificance to us afterwards, though, at the time, the only remarkmade that bore upon the future was Amante's whisper to me that theyoung lady's hair was exactly the colour of mine, which she had cut offand burnt in the stove in the miller's kitchen in one of her descentsfrom our hiding-place in the loft.

  As soon as we could, we struck round in the shadow, leaving theboisterous and merry fellow-passengers to their supper. We crossed thecourt, borrowed a lantern from the ostler, and scrambled up the rudestep to our chamber above the stable. There was no door into it; theentrance was the hole into which the ladder fitted. The window lookedinto the court. We were tired and soon fell asleep. I was wakened by anoise in the stable below. One instant of listening, and I wakenedAmante, placing my hand on her mouth, to prevent any exclamation in herhalf-roused state. We heard my husband speaking about his horse to theostler. It was his voice. I am sure of it. Amante said so too. We durstnot move to rise and satisfy ourselves. For five minutes or so he wenton giving directions. Then he left the stable, and, softly stealing toour window, we saw him cross the court and re-enter the inn. Weconsulted as to what we should do. We feared to excite remark orsuspicion by descending and leaving our chamber, or else immediateescape was our strongest idea. Then the ostler left the stable, lockingthe door on the outside.

  'We must try and drop through the window--if, indeed, it is well to goat all,' said Amante.

  With reflection came wisdom. We should excite suspicion by leavingwithout paying our bill. We were on foot, and might easily be pursued.So we sat on our bed's edge, talking and shivering, while from acrossthe court the laughter rang merrily, and the company slowly dispersedone by one, their lights flitting past the windows as they wentupstairs and settled each one to his rest.

  We crept into our bed, holding each other tight, and listening to everysound, as if we thought we were tracked, and might meet our death atany moment. In the dead of night, just at the profound stillnesspreceding the turn into another day, we heard a soft, cautious stepcrossing the yard. The key into the stable was turned--some one cameinto the stable--we felt rather than heard him there. A horse started alittle, and made a restless movement with his feet, then whinniedrecognition. He who had entered made two or three low sounds to theanimal, and then led him into the court. Amante sprang to the windowwith the noiseless activity of a cat. She looked out, but dared notspeak a word. We heard the great door into the street open--a pause formounting, and the horse's footsteps were lost in distance.

  Then Amante came back to me. 'It was he! he is gone!' said she, andonce more we lay down, trembling and shaking.

  This time we fell sound asleep. We slept long and late. We were wakenedby many hurrying feet, and many confused voices; all the world seemedawake and astir. We rose and dressed ourselves, and coming down welooked around among the crowd collected in the court-yard, in order toassure ourselves _he_ was not there before we left the shelter of thestable.

  The instant we were seen, two or three people rushed to us.

  'Have you heard?--Do you know?--That poor young lady--oh, come andsee!' and so we were hurried, almost in spite of ourselves, across thecourt, and up the great open stairs of the main building of the inn,into a bed-chamber, where lay the beautiful young German lady, so fullof graceful pride the night before, now white and still in death. Byher stood the French maid, crying and gesticulating.

  'Oh, madame! if you had but suffered me to stay with you! Oh! thebaron, what will he say?' and so she went on. Her state had but justbeen discovered; it had been supposed that she was fatigued, and wassleeping late, until a few minutes before. The surgeon of the town hadbeen sent for, and the landlord of the inn was trying vainly to enforceorder until he came, and, from time to time, drinking little cups ofbrandy, and offering them to the guests, who were all assembled there,pretty much as the servants were doing in the court-yard.

  At last the surgeon came. All fell back, and hung on the words thatwere to fall from his lips.

  'See!' said the landlord. 'This lady came last night by the diligencewith her maid. Doubtless, a great lady, for she must have a privatesitting-room--'

  'She was Madame the Baroness de Roeder,' said the French maid.

  --'And was difficult to please in the matter of supper, and asleeping-room. She went to bed well, though fatigued. Her maid lefther--'

  'I begged to be allowed to sleep in her room, as we were in a strangeinn, of the character of which we knew nothing; but she would not letme, my mistress was such a great lady.'

  --'And slept with my servants,' continued the landlord. 'This morningwe thought madame was still slumbering; but when eight, nine, ten, andnear eleven o'clock came, I bade her maid use my pass-key, and enterher room----'

  'The door was not locked, only closed. And here she was found--dead isshe not, monsieur?--with her face down on her pillow, and her beautifulhair all scattered wild; she never would let me tie it up, saying itmade her head ache. Such hair!' said the waiting-maid, lifting up along golden tress, and letting it fall again.

  I remembered Amante's words the night before, and crept close up toher.

  Meanwhile, the doctor was examining the body underneath thebed-clothes, which the landlord, until now, had not allowed to bedisarranged. The surgeon drew out his hand, all bathed and stained withblood; and holding up a short, sharp knife, with a piece of paperfastened round it.

  'Here has been foul play,' he said. 'The deceased lady has beenmurdered. This dagger was aimed straight at her heart.' Then putting onhis spectacles, he read the writing on the bloody paper, dimmed andhorribly obscured as it was:

  NUMERO UN. Ainsi les Chauffeurs se vengent.

  'Let us go!' said I to Amante. 'Oh, let us leave this horrible place!'

  'Wait a little,' said she. 'Only a few minutes more. It will bebetter.'

  Immediately the voices of all proclaimed their suspicions of thecavalier who had arrived last the night before. He had, they said, madeso many inquiries about the young lady, whose supercilious conduct allin the _salle-a-manger_ had been discussing on his entrance. They weretalking about her as we left the room; he must have come in directlyafterwards, and not until he had learnt all about her, had he spoken ofthe business which necessitated his departure at dawn of day, and madehis arrangements with both landlord and ostler for the possession ofthe keys of the stable and _porte-cochere_. In short, there was nodoubt as to the murderer, even before the arrival of the legalfunctionary who had been sent for by the surgeon; but the word on thepaper chilled every one with terror. Les Chauffeurs, who were they? Noone knew, some of the gang might even then be in the room overhearing,and noting down fresh objects for vengeance. In Germany, I had heardlittle of this terrible gang, and I had paid no greater heed to thestories related once or twice about them in Carlsruhe than one do
es totales about ogres. But here in their very haunts, I learnt the fullamount of the terror they inspired. No one would be legally responsiblefor any evidence criminating the murderer. The public prosecutor shrankfrom the duties of his office. What do I say? Neither Amante nor I,knowing far more of the actual guilt of the man who had killed thatpoor sleeping young lady, durst breathe a word. We appeared to bewholly ignorant of everything: we, who might have told so much. But howcould we? we were broken down with terrific anxiety and fatigue, withthe knowledge that we, above all, were doomed victims; and that theblood, heavily dripping from the bed-clothes on to the floor, wasdripping thus out of the poor dead body, because, when living, she hadbeen mistaken for me.

  At length Amante went up to the landlord, and asked permission to leavehis inn, doing all openly and humbly, so as to excite neither ill-willnor suspicion. Indeed, suspicion was otherwise directed, and hewillingly gave us leave to depart. A few days afterwards we were acrossthe Rhine, in Germany, making our way towards Frankfort, but stillkeeping our disguises, and Amante still working at her trade.

  On the way, we met a young man, a wandering journeyman from Heidelberg.I knew him, although I did not choose that he should know me. I askedhim, as carelessly as I could, how the old miller was now? He told mehe was dead. This realization of the worst apprehensions caused by hislong silence shocked me inexpressibly. It seemed as though every propgave way from under me. I had been talking to Amante only that very dayof the safety and comfort of the home that awaited her in my father'shouse; of the gratitude which the old man would feel towards her; andhow there, in that peaceful dwelling, far away from the terrible landof France, she should find ease and security for all the rest of herlife. All this I thought I had to promise, and even yet more had Ilooked for, for myself. I looked to the unburdening of my heart andconscience by telling all I knew to my best and wisest friend. I lookedto his love as a sure guidance as well as a comforting stay, and,behold, he was gone away from me for ever!

  I had left the room hastily on hearing of this sad news from theHeidelberger. Presently, Amante followed.

  'Poor madame,' said she, consoling me to the best of her ability. Andthen she told me by degrees what more she had learned respecting myhome, about which she knew almost as much as I did, from my frequenttalks on the subject both at Les Rochers and on the dreary, dolefulroad we had come along. She had continued the conversation after Ileft, by asking about my brother and his wife. Of course, they lived onat the mill, but the man said (with what truth I know not, but Ibelieved it firmly at the time) that Babette had completely got theupper hand of my brother, who only saw through her eyes and heard withher ears. That there had been much Heidelberg gossip of late days abouther sudden intimacy with a grand French gentleman who had appeared atthe mill--a relation, by marriage--married, in fact, to the miller'ssister, who, by all accounts, had behaved abominably and ungratefully.But that was no reason for Babette's extreme and sudden intimacy withhim, going about everywhere with the French gentleman; and since heleft (as the Heidelberger said he knew for a fact) corresponding withhim constantly. Yet her husband saw no harm in it all, seemingly;though, to be sure, he was so out of spirits, what with his father'sdeath and the news of his sister's infamy, that he hardly knew how tohold up his head.

  'Now,' said Amante, 'all this proves that M. de la Tourelle hassuspected that you would go back to the nest in which you were reared,and that he has been there, and found that you have not yet returned;but probably he still imagines that you will do so, and has accordinglyengaged your sister-in-law as a kind of informant. Madame has said thather sister-in-law bore her no extreme good-will; and the defamatorystory he has got the start of us in spreading, will not tend toincrease the favour in which your sister-in-law holds you. No doubt theassassin was retracing his steps when we met him near Forbach, andhaving heard of the poor German lady, with her French maid, and herpretty blonde complexion, he followed her. If madame will still beguided by me--and, my child, I beg of you still to trust me,' saidAmante, breaking out of her respectful formality into the way oftalking more natural to those who had shared and escaped from commondangers--more natural, too, where the speaker was conscious of a powerof protection which the other did not possess--'we will go on toFrankfort, and lose ourselves, for a time, at least, in the numbers ofpeople who throng a great town; and you have told me that Frankfort isa great town. We will still be husband and wife; we will take a smalllodging, and you shall house-keep and live in-doors. I, as the rougherand the more alert, will continue my father's trade, and seek work atthe tailors' shops.'

  I could think of no better plan, so we followed this out. In a backstreet at Frankfort we found two furnished rooms to let on a sixthstory. The one we entered had no light from day; a dingy lamp swungperpetually from the ceiling, and from that, or from the open doorleading into the bedroom beyond, came our only light. The bedroom wasmore cheerful, but very small. Such as it was, it almost exceeded ourpossible means. The money from the sale of my ring was almostexhausted, and Amante was a stranger in the place, speaking onlyFrench, moreover, and the good Germans were hating the French peopleright heartily. However, we succeeded better than our hopes, and evenlaid by a little against the time of my confinement. I never stirredabroad, and saw no one, and Amante's want of knowledge of German kepther in a state of comparative isolation.

  At length my child was born--my poor worse than fatherless child. Itwas a girl, as I had prayed for. I had feared lest a boy might havesomething of the tiger nature of its father, but a girl seemed all myown. And yet not all my own, for the faithful Amante's delight andglory in the babe almost exceeded mine; in outward show it certainlydid.

  We had not been able to afford any attendance beyond what aneighbouring sage-femme could give, and she came frequently, bringingin with her a little store of gossip, and wonderful tales culled out ofher own experience, every time. One day she began to tell me about agreat lady in whose service her daughter had lived as scullion, or somesuch thing. Such a beautiful lady! with such a handsome husband. Butgrief comes to the palace as well as to the garret, and why orwherefore no one knew, but somehow the Baron de Roeder must haveincurred the vengeance of the terrible Chauffeurs; for not many monthsago, as madame was going to see her relations in Alsace, she wasstabbed dead as she lay in bed at some hotel on the road. Had I notseen it in the _Gazette_? Had I not heard? Why, she had been told thatas far off as Lyons there were placards offering a heavy reward on thepart of the Baron de Roeder for information respecting the murderer ofhis wife. But no one could help him, for all who could bear evidencewere in such terror of the Chauffeurs; there were hundreds of them shehad been told, rich and poor, great gentlemen and peasants, all leaguedtogether by most frightful oaths to hunt to the death any one who borewitness against them; so that even they who survived the tortures towhich the Chauffeurs subjected many of the people whom they plundered,dared not to recognise them again, would not dare, even did they seethem at the bar of a court of justice; for, if one were condemned, werethere not hundreds sworn to avenge his death?

  I told all this to Amante, and we began to fear that if M. de laTourelle, or Lefebvre, or any of the gang at Les Rochers, had seenthese placards, they would know that the poor lady stabbed by theformer was the Baroness de Roeder, and that they would set forth againin search of me.

  This fresh apprehension told on my health and impeded my recovery. Wehad so little money we could not call in a physician, at least, not onein established practice. But Amante found out a young doctor for whom,indeed, she had sometimes worked; and offering to pay him in kind, shebrought him to see me, her sick wife. He was very gentle andthoughtful, though, like ourselves, very poor. But he gave much timeand consideration to the case, saying once to Amante that he saw myconstitution had experienced some severe shock from which it wasprobable that my nerves would never entirely recover. By-and-by I shallname this doctor, and then you will know, better than I can describe,his character.

  I grew strong in time--stronger, a
t least. I was able to work a littleat home, and to sun myself and my baby at the garret-window in theroof. It was all the air I dared to take. I constantly wore thedisguise I had first set out with; as constantly had I renewed thedisfiguring dye which changed my hair and complexion. But the perpetualstate of terror in which I had been during the whole months succeedingmy escape from Les Rochers made me loathe the idea of ever againwalking in the open daylight, exposed to the sight and recognition ofevery passer-by. In vain Amante reasoned--in vain the doctor urged.Docile in every other thing, in this I was obstinate. I would not stirout. One day Amante returned from her work, full of news--some of itgood, some such as to cause us apprehension. The good news was this;the master for whom she worked as journeyman was going to send her withsome others to a great house at the other side of Frankfort, wherethere were to be private theatricals, and where many new dresses andmuch alteration of old ones would be required. The tailors employedwere all to stay at this house until the day of representation wasover, as it was at some distance from the town, and no one could tellwhen their work would be ended. But the pay was to be proportionatelygood.

  The other thing she had to say was this: she had that day met thetravelling jeweller to whom she and I had sold my ring. It was rather apeculiar one, given to me by my husband; we had felt at the time thatit might be the means of tracing us, but we were penniless andstarving, and what else could we do? She had seen that this Frenchmanhad recognised her at the same instant that she did him, and shethought at the same time that there was a gleam of more than commonintelligence on his face as he did so. This idea had been confirmed byhis following her for some way on the other side of the street; but shehad evaded him with her better knowledge of the town, and theincreasing darkness of the night. Still it was well that she was goingto such a distance from our dwelling on the next day; and she hadbrought me in a stock of provisions, begging me to keep within doors,with a strange kind of fearful oblivion of the fact that I had neverset foot beyond the threshold of the house since I had first enteredit--scarce ever ventured down the stairs. But, although my poor, mydear, very faithful Amante was like one possessed that last night, shespoke continually of the dead, which is a bad sign for the living. Shekissed you--yes! it was you, my daughter, my darling, whom I borebeneath my bosom away from the fearful castle of your father--I callhim so for the first time, I must call him so once again before I havedone--Amante kissed you, sweet baby, blessed little comforter, as ifshe never could leave off. And then she went away, alive.

  Two days, three days passed away. That third evening I was sittingwithin my bolted doors--you asleep on your pillow by my side--when astep came up the stair, and I knew it must be for me; for ours were thetop-most rooms. Some one knocked; I held my very breath. But some onespoke, and I knew it was the good Doctor Voss. Then I crept to thedoor, and answered.

  'Are you alone?' asked I.

  'Yes,' said he, in a still lower voice. 'Let me in.' I let him in, andhe was as alert as I in bolting and barring the door. Then he came andwhispered to me his doleful tale. He had come from the hospital in theopposite quarter of the town, the hospital which he visited; he shouldhave been with me sooner, but he had feared lest he should be watched.He had come from Amante's death-bed. Her fears of the jeweller were toowell founded. She had left the house where she was employed thatmorning, to transact some errand connected with her work in the town;she must have been followed, and dogged on her way back throughsolitary wood-paths, for some of the wood-rangers belonging to thegreat house had found her lying there, stabbed to death, but not dead;with the poniard again plunged through the fatal writing, once more;but this time with the word 'un' underlined, so as to show that theassassin was aware of his precious mistake.

  Numero _Un_. Ainsi les Chauffeurs se vengent.

  They had carried her to the house, and given her restoratives till shehad recovered the feeble use of her speech. But, oh, faithful, dearfriend and sister! even then she remembered me, and refused to tell(what no one else among her fellow workmen knew), where she lived orwith whom. Life was ebbing away fast, and they had no resource but tocarry her to the nearest hospital, where, of course, the fact of hersex was made known. Fortunately both for her and for me, the doctor inattendance was the very Doctor Voss whom we already knew. To him, whileawaiting her confessor, she told enough to enable him to understand theposition in which I was left; before the priest had heard half her taleAmante was dead.

  Doctor Voss told me he had made all sorts of _detours_, and waitedthus, late at night, for fear of being watched and followed. But I donot think he was. At any rate, as I afterwards learnt from him, theBaron Roeder, on hearing of the similitude of this murder with that ofhis wife in every particular, made such a search after the assassins,that, although they were not discovered, they were compelled to take toflight for the time.

  I can hardly tell you now by what arguments Dr. Voss, at first merelymy benefactor, sparing me a portion of his small modicum, at lengthpersuaded me to become his wife. His wife he called it, I called it;for we went through the religious ceremony too much slighted at thetime, and as we were both Lutherans, and M. de la Tourelle hadpretended to be of the reformed religion, a divorce from the latterwould have been easily procurable by German law both ecclesiastical andlegal, could we have summoned so fearful a man into any court.

  The good doctor took me and my child by stealth to his modest dwelling;and there I lived in the same deep refinement, never seeing the fulllight of day, although when the dye had once passed away from my facemy husband did not wish me to renew it. There was no need; my yellowhair was grey, my complexion was ashen-coloured, no creature could haverecognized the fresh-coloured, bright-haired young woman of eighteenmonths before. The few people whom I saw knew me only as Madame Voss; awidow much older than himself, whom Dr. Voss had secretly married. Theycalled me the Grey Woman.

  He made me give you his surname. Till now you have known no otherfather--while he lived you needed no father's love. Once only, onlyonce more, did the old terror come upon me. For some reason which Iforget, I broke through my usual custom, and went to the window of myroom for some purpose, either to shut or to open it. Looking out intothe street for an instant, I was fascinated by the sight of M. de laTourelle, gay, young, elegant as ever, walking along on the oppositeside of the street. The noise I had made with the window caused him tolook up; he saw me, an old grey woman, and he did not recognize me! Yetit was not three years since we had parted, and his eyes were keen anddreadful like those of the lynx.

  I told M. Voss, on his return home, and he tried to cheer me, but theshock of seeing M. de la Tourelle had been too terrible for me. I wasill for long months afterwards.

  Once again I saw him. Dead. He and Lefebvre were at last caught; hunteddown by the Baron de Roeder in some of their crimes. Dr. Voss had heardof their arrest; their condemnation, their death; but he never said aword to me, until one day he bade me show him that I loved him by myobedience and my trust. He took me a long carriage journey, where to Iknow not, for we never spoke of that day again; I was led through aprison, into a closed court-yard, where, decently draped in the lastrobes of death, concealing the marks of decapitation, lay M. de laTourelle, and two or three others, whom I had known at Les Rochers.

  After that conviction Dr. Voss tried to persuade me to return to a morenatural mode of life, and to go out more. But although I sometimescomplied with his wish, yet the old terror was ever strong upon me, andhe, seeing what an effort it was, gave up urging me at last.

  You know all the rest. How we both mourned bitterly the loss of thatdear husband and father--for such I will call him ever--and as such youmust consider him, my child, after this one revelation is over.

  Why has it been made, you ask. For this reason, my child. The lover,whom you have only known as M. Lebrun, a French artist, told me butyesterday his real name, dropped because the blood-thirsty republicansmight consider it as too aristocratic. It is Maurice de Poissy.