Part 8 (2/2)

One man went so far as to point his gun at the venerable priest, who, without once losing his sang-froid, recrossed the court-yard, keeping his face turned towards the excited band outside, and rejoined his companions, who under the leaders.h.i.+p of the Marquis and Philip were just emerging from the hall, armed to the teeth.

”They will not listen to reason,” said the Abbe Peretty, calmly!

”Then we will defend ourselves, and woe be unto them!”

As he uttered these words, the Marquis turned to Mademoiselle de Mirandol, around whom the women of the chateau were crowding, half-crazed with terror.

”Go into the house; your place is not here,” said he.

”My place is by your side!” replied Antoinette.

”No, my dear Antoinette; it is madness to expose yourself unnecessarily.

I know you are courageous, but you can be of far greater service to us by quieting these poor, shrieking creatures.”

While this conversation was going on, Philip advanced to the gate. It still resisted the efforts of the a.s.sailants, some of whom were endeavoring to climb over the roofs of the pavilions that stood on either side of the entrance to the chateau.

”I command you to retire!” cried Philip.

Angry threats of ”Death” resounded afresh.

”Then I hold you responsible for any disasters that may occur!” Philip replied.

At the same moment the impetuous youth raised his gun and fired, wounding one of the men who had climbed the gate and was preparing to leap down into the court-yard. Imprecations broke forth anew and the combat began. Nothing could be heard but a vigorous fusillade, accompanied by the shouts of the besiegers and the besieged. These last were so few in number that they dare not dispatch one of their little company to Remoulins for aid. Besides, they were not sure that the band now a.s.sailing them would not be followed by others that would waylay their messenger; but they hoped that their shouts and the sound of the firing would arouse the inhabitants of the sleeping town. The Marquis fought with the desperation of a man who is defending his outraged fireside, and Philip struggled with the energy of despair. He was fighting for his father and for Antoinette. He shuddered when he thought of the horrible fate that awaited the young girl if these brutes, more formidable than any wild beasts, were victorious. Even the Abbe Peretty had armed himself. The servants and the friends of the house conducted themselves like heroes, but, unfortunately, Coursegol was far from Chamondrin, and the defenders of the chateau sadly missed his valiant arm.

The a.s.sailants were still crowding against the gate, uttering howls of fury. They were poorly armed. Only a few had guns, the others brandished hatchets and pickaxes, crying:

”Tear down the gate!”

But, when the firing began, they left this dangerous position and retired perhaps twenty feet, where they hid behind the trees, firing at random, sometimes trying to advance, but always driven back with loss.

Five or six of them were already stretched upon the gra.s.s, but the defenders of the castle were unhurt. The gypsies had retreated to a safe distance, where they stood impatiently awaiting the conclusion of the struggle, ready to fall upon the vanquished as soon as they became unable to defend themselves.

Meanwhile Antoinette, surrounded by four or five women, was upon her knees in the drawing-room, praying fervently, her heart sick with anguish and fear. How ardently she wished herself a man that she might fight by Philip's side! The firing suddenly ceased. Philip entered the room. His face was pale, but stained here and there by smoke and powder; his head was bare; his clothing disordered. Grief and despair were imprinted upon his countenance.

”We must fly!” he exclaimed.

And taking Antoinette by the hand he led her through the long corridor opening into the park. The frightened women followed them. In the park they met the defenders of the chateau, carrying a wounded man in their arms.

Antoinette uttered a cry of consternation.

”Ah! I would have fought until death!” exclaimed Philip, despairingly, ”but we were overpowered; the gate was torn down; my father was wounded.

He must be saved from the hands of the bandits at any cost, so we were forced to retreat.”

Antoinette walked on like one in a frightful dream. If Philip had not supported her she would have fallen again and again. They walked beside the Marquis, who was still conscious, though mortally wounded in the breast. When he saw his son and Antoinette beside him, he looked at them with sorrowful tenderness, and even attempted to smile as if to convince them that he was not suffering.

The little band proceeded with all possible speed to a small summer-house concealed in the pines and shrubbery. Nothing could be more mournful than this little procession of gloomy-visaged men and weeping women, fleeing through the darkness to escape the a.s.sa.s.sins who were now masters of the castle, destroying everything around them and making night hideous with their ferocious yells. At last they reached the summer-house. The Marquis was deposited upon a hastily improvised bed; the Abbe Peretty, a.s.sisted by Philip and Antoinette, attempted to dress his wound; and two men started in the hope of reaching Remoulins by a circuitous route, in order to bring a physician and call upon the inhabitants of the village for aid.

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