Part 13 (1/2)
”When you are flung into the river, call my name and float. I shall be near.”
She understood, and being placed with a crowd of wretched women on the old vessel which lay in the river Loire, she employed every moment in loosening the rope that tied her hands, and keeping her eye on the tall, bearded man who moved about seeming to do his work, while his blood boiled with suppressed wrath, and his heart ached with unavailing pity. It was dusk before the end came for Yvonne, and she was all unnerved by the sad sights she had been forced to see; but when rude hands seized her, she made ready for the plunge, sure that Gaston would ”be near.” He was, for in the darkness and uproar, he could leap after her unseen, and while she floated, he cut the rope, then swam down the river with her hand upon his shoulder till they dared to land. Both were nearly spent with the excitement and exertion of that dreadful hour; but Hoel waited for them on the sh.o.r.e and helped Gaston carry poor Yvonne into a deserted house, where they gave her fire, food, dry garments, and the gladdest welcome one human creature ever gave to another.
Being a robust peasant, the girl came safely through hards.h.i.+ps that would have killed or crazed a frailer creature; and she was soon able to rejoice with the brave fellows over this escape, so audaciously planned and so boldly carried out. They dared stay but a few hours, and before dawn were hastening through the least frequented ways toward home, finding safety in the distracted state of the country, which made fugitives no unusual sight, and refugees plentiful. One more adventure, and that a happy one, completed their joy, and turned their flight into a triumphant march.
Pausing in the depths of the great forest of Hunaudaye to rest, the two young men went to find food, leaving Yvonne to tend the fire and make ready to cook the venison they hoped to bring. It was nightfall, and another day would see them in Dinan, they hoped; but the lads had consented to pause for the girl's sake, for she was worn out with their rapid flight. They were talking of their adventures in high spirits, when Gaston laid his hand on Hoel's mouth and pointed to a green slope before them. An early moon gave light enough to show them a dark form moving quickly into the coppice, and something like the antlers of a stag showed above the tall brakes before they vanished. ”Slip around and drive him this way. I never miss my aim, and we will sup royally to-night,” whispered Gaston, glad to use the arms with which they had provided themselves.
Hoel slipped away, and presently a rustle in the wood betrayed the cautious approach of the deer. But he was off before a shot could be fired, and the disappointed hunters followed long and far, resolved not to go back empty-handed. They had to give it up, however, and were partially consoled by a rabbit, which Hoel flung over his shoulder, while Gaston, forgetting caution, began to sing an old song the women of Brittany love so well:--
”Quand vous etiez, captif, Bertrand, fils de Bretagne, Tous les fuseaux tournaient aussi dans la campagne.”
He got no further, for the stanza was finished by a voice that had often joined in the ballad, when Dame Gillian sang it to the children, as she spun:--
”Chaque femme apporte son echeveau de lin; Ce fut votre rancon, Messire du Guesclin.”
Both paused, thinking that some spirit of the wood mocked them; but a loud laugh, and a familiar ”Holo! holo!” made Hoel cry, ”The forester!”
while Gaston dashed headlong into the thicket whence the sound came, there to find the jolly forester, indeed, with a slain deer by his side, waiting to receive them with open arms.
”I taught you to stalk the deer, and spear the boar, not to hunt your fellow-creatures, my lord. But I forgive you, for it was well done, and I had a hard run to escape,” he said, still laughing.
”But how came you here?” cried both the youths, in great excitement; for the good man was supposed to be dead, with his old master.
”A long tale, for which I have a short and happy answer. Come home to supper with me, and I'll show you a sight that will gladden hearts and eyes,” he answered, shouldering his load and leading the way to a deserted hermitage, which had served many a fugitive for a shelter. As they went, Gaston poured out his story, and told how Yvonne was waiting for them in the wood.
”Brave lads! and here is your reward,” answered the forester, pus.h.i.+ng open the door and pointing to the figure of a man, with a pale face and bandaged head, lying asleep beside the fire.
It was the count, sorely wounded, but alive, thanks to his devoted follower, who had saved him when the fight was over; and after weeks of concealment, suffering, and anxiety, had brought him so far toward home.
No need to tell of the happy meeting that night, nor of the glad return; for, though the chateau was in ruins and lives were still in danger, they all were together, and the trials they had pa.s.sed through only made the ties of love and loyalty between high and low more true and tender.
Good Dame Gillian housed them all, and nursed her master back to health.
Yvonne and Hoel had a gay wedding in the course of time, and Gaston went to the wars again. A new chateau rose on the ruins of the old, and when the young lord took possession, he replaced the banner that was lost with one of fair linen, spun and woven by the two women who had been so faithful to him and his, but added a white dove above the clasped hands and golden legend, never so true as now,--
”En tout chemin loyaute.”
[Ill.u.s.tration]
JERSEYS OR THE GIRLS' GHOST:
”Well, what do you think of her? She has only been here a day, but it doesn't take _us_ long to make up our minds,” said Nelly Blake, the leader of the school, as a party of girls stood chatting round the register one cold November morning.
”I like her, she looks so fresh and pleasant, and so strong. I just wanted to go and lean up against her, when my back ached yesterday,”
answered Maud, a pale girl wrapped in a shawl.
”I'm afraid she's very energetic, and I do hate to be hurried,” sighed plump Cordelia, lounging in an easy chair.
”I know she is, for Biddy says she asked for a pail of cold water at six this morning, and she's out walking now. Just think how horrid,” cried Kitty with a s.h.i.+ver.
”I wonder what she does for her complexion. Never saw such a lovely color. Real roses and cream,” said Julia, shutting one eye to survey the freckles on her nose, with a gloomy frown.