In the Irish Brigade: A Tale of War in Flanders and Spain, Page 4

  Chapter 4: At Versailles.

  The regiment was on the point of falling in, on the parade ground,when Desmond Kennedy rode up. Leaping from his horse, he threw thereins to his servant.

  "Take them both round to the stables, and put them in sparestalls, Mike. I will get leave off parade for both of us, and askthe surgeon to dress your wounds properly."

  Then he went up to the colonel, who was just entering the barrackyard.

  "Colonel O'Brien," he said, "I must ask your leave off parade,for, as you see, I am scarcely in a condition to take my placewith my company."

  "So it would seem, Mr. Kennedy. You have been in trouble, I see.Nothing serious, I hope?"

  "Nothing at all, sir, as far as I am concerned. It is merely agraze from a pistol ball."

  "Well, I must hear about it, afterwards."

  "I must also ask leave off parade for Callaghan, my servant, sir.He is hurt a good deal more than I am, though not, I hope,seriously."

  The colonel nodded. "I will send the surgeon to your quarters, andhe will see to you both."

  As Desmond left the colonel, his two chums came up.

  "Why, Kennedy, what on earth have you been doing to yourself? Thisis what comes of gallivanting about after dark. When we cameround, yesterday evening, to go out with you as usual, you werenot in. There was nothing very unusual in that, for these eveningwalks of yours are often prolonged; but we called again, on ourreturn at eleven o'clock, and found you were still absent. Thislooked serious. We came round again at six this morning, for wewere anxious about you, and learned you had not been in all night,and, on enquiring, heard that Callaghan was also absent.

  "That was cheering. That you might get into some scrape or other,we could reasonably believe; but, as you had your man with you, wecould hardly suppose that misfortune had fallen upon both of you."

  "The wound is a mere graze. I will tell you, after parade, what Ihave been doing," Desmond said, "but you must nurse your curiositytill you are dismissed."

  A few minutes after Desmond reached his quarters, the surgeon camein.

  "I do not think that I have any need of your services, doctor. Igot a piece of plaster, and stuck it on two hours ago, and I haveno doubt that the wound will heal in a few days."

  "However, I will, with your permission, take it off, Mr. Kennedy.It is much better that the wound should be properly washed, andsome dressing applied to it. It will heal all the quicker, and youare less likely to have an ugly scar.

  "It is a pretty deep graze," he said, after he had carefullyremoved the plaster. "An eighth of an inch farther, and it wouldhave made your teeth rattle. You had better keep quiet, today.Tomorrow morning, if there is no sign of inflammation, I will takeoff the dressing and bandage and put on a plaster--one a third ofthe size that I took off will be sufficient; and as I will use apink plaster, it will not be very noticeable, if you go outsidethe barracks.

  "Where is your man? The colonel told me there were two patients.

  "A nasty cut," he said, after examining Mike's wound. "It is luckythat it was not a little higher. If it had been, you would havebled to death in five minutes. As it is, it is not serious. Youwill have to keep your arm in a sling for a fortnight. You are notto attend parade, or mount a horse, until I give you leave."

  On the ride from Versailles, Desmond had warned Mike to say noword as to the events of the night.

  "I do not know what course the young lady's father may take," hesaid, "and until I do, the matter had better be kept a secret,altogether."

  "I will keep a quiet tongue in my head, and no one shall hearanything, from me, as to how I got this slice on my shoulder. Iwill just say that it was a bit of a scrimmage I got into, withtwo or three of the street rascals; and the thing is so commonthat no one is likely to ask any further questions about it."

  After the parade was over, O'Neil and O'Sullivan came up toDesmond's quarters.

  "Now, Master Kennedy, we have come to receive your confession. Wegave you credit for being a quiet, decent boy, and now it seemsthat you and that man of yours have been engaged in somedisreputable riot, out all night, and coming in on two strangehorses, which, for aught we know, have been carried off by forceof arms."

  Desmond laughed.

  "As to the horses, you are not so far wrong as one might expect,O'Neil. We rode them this morning from Versailles."

  "From Versailles!" O'Neil repeated. "And what, in the name of allthe saints, took you to Versailles! I am afraid, Desmond, that youare falling into very evil courses.

  "Well, tell us all about it. I shall be glad to be able to believethat there is some redeeming feature in this strange business."

  Desmond laughed, and then said, more seriously, "Well, I have hadan adventure. Other people were concerned in it, as well asmyself. I have made up my mind to tell you both, because I knowthat I can depend upon your promises to keep it an absolutesecret."

  "This sounds mysterious indeed," O'Sullivan said. "However, youhave our promises. O'Neil and I will be as silent as the grave."

  "Well, then, you know how you were chaffing me, the other day,about finding Mademoiselle Pointdexter?"

  "You don't mean to say that you have found her, Kennedy?" O'Neilexclaimed incredulously.

  "That is what I mean to say, though found is hardly the word,since I was not looking for her, or even thinking of her, at thetime. Still, in point of fact, I accidentally came across theplace where she was hidden away, and after a sharp skirmish, inwhich Callaghan and I each had to kill two men, we carried heroff, and delivered her safely to her father this morning."

  The two young officers looked hard at Desmond, to discover if hewas speaking seriously, for his tone was so quiet, and matter offact, that they could scarce credit that he had passed throughsuch an exciting adventure; and the three were so accustomed tohoax each other, that it struck them both as simply an inventionon the part of their comrade, so absolutely improbable did it seemto them.

  "Sure you are trying to hoax us, Kennedy," O'Sullivan said.

  "You could not blame me, if I were," Desmond said, with a smile,"considering the cock-and-bull stories that you are constantlytrying to palm off on me. However, you are wrong now. I will tellyou the affair, just as it happened."

  And he related, in detail, the story of the rescue of MademoisellePointdexter, and the manner in which he had conveyed her toVersailles.

  "By Saint Bridget, Kennedy, we were not far wrong when we calledyou a knight errant. Well, this is something like an adventure,though whether it will end well or ill for you I cannot say. Didyou learn the name of the person who had the girl carried off?"

  "No. I asked no questions, and indeed had but little conversationwith her; for, as I have told you, I put her in a carriage, withthe old hag who was in charge of her, and rode myself by the sideof it, in case the old woman should try to escape."

  "A truly discreet proceeding, Kennedy," O'Neil laughed. "I think,if I myself had been in your place, I should have taken a seatinside also, where you, of course, could at once have watched theold woman, and talked with the young one."

  "I don't think that you would have done anything of the sort,O'Neil," Desmond said gravely, "but would have seen, as I did,that it was better that she should travel alone, with the oldwoman, till she reached her father's house. Scandal will be busyenough with her name, in any case, and it is as well that itshould not be said that she arrived home, in a carriage, with ayoung officer of O'Brien's Irish regiment."

  "By my faith, Kennedy, it seems to me that you are a Saint Anthonyand a Bayard rolled into one. But, seriously, you are undoubtedlyright. Well, it all depends upon who was the man who carried heroff, as to whether you were fortunate or unfortunate in thushaving thwarted his designs. If he is some adventurer, your actionwill gain you heaps of credit. If, on the other hand, it was oneof the king's favourites, seeking to mend his fortunes bymarrying, it is probable that you will have made a dangerousenemy--nay, more, have drawn upon yourself the king's displeasure.I should think it l
ikely that, before attempting so desperate anaction as the carrying off of the Baron Pointdexter's daughter,such a man would have assured himself that the king would not viewthe enterprise with displeasure.

  "We may assume that he would not inform His Majesty of anyparticulars, but would put it, hypothetically, that as he wasgetting into sore straits, he thought of mending his fortunes bycarrying off an heiress--not, of course, one of those of whosehands the king had the disposal; and that he trusted that, if hesucceeded, His Majesty would not view the matter as a graveoffence. From what I know of Louis, he would reply gravely: 'Ishould be obliged (duke or viscount, as the case might be) toexpress very grave displeasure, and to order you to leave thecourt for a time; but, as the harm would be done, and the younglady married to you, it might be that, in time, I should pardonthe offence.'

  "If this is how things have gone, you may be sure that the kingwill not view, with satisfaction, the man who has interfered withhis favourite's plan for mending his fortunes."

  Desmond shrugged his shoulders.

  "The king's dissatisfaction would matter very little to me," hesaid, "especially as he could not openly manifest it, withoutmaking it apparent that he had approved of the scheme."

  "It is not such a trifle as you think, Kennedy. Lettres de cachetare not difficult to obtain, by powerful members of the court;especially when the person named is a young regimental officer,whose disappearance would excite no comment or curiosity, saveamong the officers of his own regiment. The man who carried offMademoiselle Pointdexter must be a bold fellow, and is likely tobe a vindictive one. No doubt, his object was to keep the younglady a prisoner, until she agreed to marry him, and the loss of apretty bride with a splendid fortune is no trifling one, andlikely to be bitterly resented. Whether that resentment will takethe form of obtaining an order for your confinement in theBastille, or other royal prison, or of getting you put out of theway by a stab in the back, I am unable to say, but in any case, Ishould advise you strongly to give up your fancy for wanderingabout after dark; and when you do go out, keep in the frequentedportions of the town.

  "Jack Farquharson, who was at Versailles with the colonel lastweek, was speaking of Mademoiselle Pointdexter, and said that shewas charming. Did you find her so?"

  "I thought nothing about it, one way or the other," Desmond said,carelessly. "I only saw her face by torchlight, and she was, ofcourse, agitated by what had happened; and indeed, as I was busyhelping Mike to yoke the horses to the carriage, I had scarcelytime to look at her. When we reached Versailles it was barelydaylight. I handed her out of the carriage, and left her to enterby herself, as I thought it was better that she should meet herfather alone. I do not think that I should recognize her, were Ito meet her in the street."

  "Most insensible youth!" O'Sullivan said, with a laugh;"insensible and discreet to a point that, were it not assured,none would believe that you had Irish blood in your veins. And so,you say you are going over to Versailles tomorrow?"

  "Yes. I left a message with the servant who opened the door, tothat effect. Of course, I shall be glad to know if the baronintends to take any steps against his daughter's abductor, orwhether he thinks it best not to add to the scandal by stirring upmatters, but to take her away at once to his estates."

  "He is in a difficult position," O'Neil said gravely. "The younglady has been missing for a fortnight. No one knows whether shewent of her own free will, or against it. Were her father to carryher off, quietly, it would excite the worst suspicions. Better byfar lodge his complaint before the king, proclaim his grievancesloudly everywhere, and tell the story in all its details.Whichever course he takes, evil-minded people will think theworse; but of the two evils, the latter seems to me to be thelesser."

  "I suppose it would be," Desmond agreed, "though, for my part, Ishould be heartily glad if I never heard another word about it."

  "You are too modest altogether, Kennedy. Whatever rumours may becurrent, concerning the young lady, there can be no doubt that youcome out splendidly, in that you hear a cry of a woman indistress; you scale walls to get in to her assistance; you andyour servant encounter five of her guards, kill four of them andbind the other; rescue the maiden, and carry her off, with flyingcolours, in the carriage of her abductor. My dear Kennedy, youwill become an object of admiration to all the ladies of thecourt."

  "That will be absolutely disgusting," Desmond said, angrily. "Itis almost enough to make one wish that one had never interfered inthe affair."

  "Pooh, pooh, Kennedy! I am sure that either O'Sullivan or myselfwould give, I was going to say a year's pay, though how one wouldexist without it I don't know, to have been in your place. Why,man, if you had captured a standard in battle, after feats ofsuperhuman bravery, you would not attract half the attention thatwill fall to you as a consequence of this adventure. Life in thecourt of His Most Christian Majesty is one of the most artificialpossible. The women hide their faces with powder and patches, lacethemselves until they are ready to faint, walk with a mincing air,and live chiefly upon scandal; but they are women, after all, andevery woman has a spice of romance in her nature, and such anadventure as yours is the very thing to excite their admiration."

  "I know nothing about women," Desmond growled, "and don't want toknow any of them, especially the ladies at the court of Louis."

  "Well, of course, Kennedy, if the baron proclaims his wrongs, andpublishes the circumstances of his daughter's abduction andrescue, the seal of silence will be taken from our lips;especially as you will, almost to a certainty, be summoned toVersailles to confirm the lady's story."

  "I am afraid that that will be so," Desmond said, despondingly."However, it can't be helped, and I suppose one must make the bestof it."

  To most of the officers who dropped in, in the course of the day,to see Desmond and to enquire how he got his wound, he abstainedfrom giving any particulars. It was merely said that he andCallaghan were suddenly attacked, by five ruffians, whom theymanaged to beat off. Much surprise was expressed that such attackshould be made upon an officer and a soldier, on whom littleplunder could be expected, and who would be sure to defendthemselves stoutly. Several, indeed, expressed some incredulity.

  "We do not doubt for a moment, Kennedy, that you were attacked byfive men, as you say, and that you routed them, but there musthave been some motive for the attack. These evening strolls ofyours are suspicious, and I will warrant that there must have beena great deal at the bottom of it. Now, can you deny that?"

  "I neither admit nor deny anything," Desmond said, with a smile;"enough that, at present, I have told you all that I feeljustified in telling. I acknowledge that there is more behind it,but at present my mouth is sealed on the subject."

  The colonel was among those who came in to see him. To him,Desmond said frankly that the affair was altogether out of thecommon, that it was likely that the whole facts would be knownshortly, but that, as other persons were concerned, he could notspeak of it until he had obtained their permission.

  "Then I will ask no further," Colonel O'Brien said. "I have seenenough of you to know that you would not be concerned in anyaffair that could bring discredit upon the corps. I am curious toknow the whole story, but am quite content to wait until you feelat liberty to tell me."

  The next morning, Desmond took part in the usual work of theregiment, and then, mounting his horse, rode to Versailles. On hisringing the bell at the house occupied by the Baron de Pointdexter,the old servitor, whom he had before seen, opened the gate.

  "The baron is expecting you, monsieur," he said, bowing deeply;and, at his call, another servant ran out and took Desmond'shorse, and led it away to the stable, while Desmond followed theold man to the house.

  The door opened as they approached, and the baron, a tall man,some fifty years of age, advanced hastily, holding out both hands.

  "Monsieur Kennedy," he said, "you have rendered to me the greatestservice that I have received during my life. No words can expressthe gratitude that I feel, for one who has restored to me
my onlychild, just when I had come to believe that she was lost to meforever. It was surely her guardian saint who sent you to thespot, at that moment."

  "It might have happened to anyone, sir," Desmond said; "surely anygentleman, on hearing an appeal for help from a woman in distress,would have done just what I did."

  "Let us go in," the baron said. "My daughter has been eagerlywaiting your coming, especially as she tells me that she does notthink she said even a word of thanks to you, being overpowered bywhat she had gone through, and by her joy at her sudden andunexpected deliverance. Indeed, she says that she scarcelyexchanged two words with you."

  "There was no opportunity, Baron, for indeed, as soon as she toldme that there was a carriage and horses in the stable, I was toomuch occupied in getting it ready for her to depart without delay,to think of talking."

  They had now entered the house, and, as the baron led the way intothe sitting room, the girl rose from a fauteuil.

  "This, Monsieur Kennedy, is my daughter, Mademoiselle Anne dePointdexter. It is high time that you were formally presented toeach other.

  "This, Anne, is the officer who rendered you such invaluableservice."

  "We meet almost as strangers, mademoiselle," Desmond said, deeplybowing, "for I own that I saw so little of your face, the othernight, that I should hardly have recognized you, had I met youelsewhere."

  "I should certainly not have recognized you, Monsieur Kennedy.What with my own fright, and, I may say, the condition of yourface, I had but a faint idea of what you were really like; but Icertainly did not think that you were so young. You had such amasterful way with you, and seemed to know so perfectly what oughtto be done, that I took you to be much older than you now look."

  "I joined the regiment but little more than three months ago,"Desmond said, "and am its youngest ensign."

  "Monsieur, I owe to you more than my life, for, had it not beenfor you, I should have been forced into marriage with one whom Idespise."

  "I cannot think that, mademoiselle. From what I saw of you, Ishould say that you would have resisted all threats, and evenundergone hopeless imprisonment, rather than yield."

  "There is no saying, Monsieur Kennedy," the baron said. "Anne isof good blood, and I know that it would have been hard to breakdown her will, but confinement and hopelessness will tell on thebravest spirit. However that may be, she and I are your debtorsfor life."

  "Indeed, Monsieur Kennedy," the girl said, "I pray you to believethat I am more grateful to you than words can express."

  "I pray you to say no more about it, mademoiselle. I deem it amost fortunate circumstance, that I was able to come to yourassistance, and especially so, when I found that the lady I hadrescued was one whose disappearance had made so great a stir; butI should have been glad to render such service to one in thepoorest condition."

  "My daughter said that you asked her no questions, MonsieurKennedy, and you therefore are, I suppose, in ignorance of thename of her abductor?"

  "Altogether."

  "It was the Vicomte de Tulle, one who stands very high in the regardof the king, and who is one of the most extravagant and dissipated,even of the courtiers here. For some time, it has been reported thathe had nigh ruined himself by his lavish expenditure, and doubtlesshe thought to reestablish his finances by this bold stroke.

  "His plans were well laid. He waited until I had gone to Paris onbusiness that would keep me there for a day or two. A messengerarrived with a letter, purporting to be from me, saying that Iwished my daughter to join me at once, and had sent a carriage totake her to me. Anne is young, and, suspecting no harm, at oncethrew on a mantle and hood, and entered the carriage. It was broaddaylight, and there was nothing to disquiet her until, onapproaching the town, the carriage turned off the main road. Thisstruck her as strange, and she was just about to ask the questionwhere she was being taken, when the carriage stopped in a lonelyspot, the door was opened, and a man stepped in.

  "Before she had even time to recognize him, he threw a thick cloakover her head. She struggled in vain to free herself, but he heldher fast. Again and again, she tried to cry out, but her mouth wasmuffled by the wrapping. She had heard the blinds of the carriagedrawn, and finding that her struggles to free herself were vain,and receiving no answer to her supplications to be released, sheremained quiet until the carriage stopped. Then she was liftedout, and carried into the house where you found her.

  "The wrapping was removed, and the man who had taken it off, and,who by his attire, was a gentleman in the service of some noble,said, 'Do not be alarmed, mademoiselle. No harm is intended toyou. My master is grieved to be obliged to adopt such means, buthis passion for you is so great that he was driven to this step,and it will entirely depend upon yourself when your captivity willend.'

  "'Your master, whoever he may be,' Anne said, 'is a contemptiblevillain.'

  "'Naturally, you have a poor opinion of him at present,' thefellow said; 'but I am convinced that, in time, you will come toexcuse his fault. It is wholly due to the depth of the feelingthat he entertains towards you. There is a woman here who willwait upon you. I and my men will not intrude. Our duty is solelyto see that you do not escape, which indeed would be animpossibility for you, seeing that the wall that surrounds thegarden is well-nigh fifteen feet high, and the gate barred andlocked, and the key thereof in my pocket.'

  "He called, and the old woman whom you brought here with Anneentered, and bid her ascend to the room that had been prepared forher.

  "In that respect, she had nothing to complain of. Of course, youdid not notice it, as you had other things to think of, but it washandsomely furnished. There was a bed in an alcove, some flowerson the table, some books, and even a harpsichord--evidently it wasintended that her imprisonment should be made as light as mightbe.

  "Looking from the window, Anne saw that the room was at the backof the house, and had probably been chosen because some trees shutthe window off from view of anyone beyond the wall. The next day,the old woman announced the Vicomte de Tulle. He bowed profoundly,and began by excusing the step that he had taken, and crediting itsolely to the passion that he had conceived for her. You mayimagine the scorn and reproaches with which she answered him. Hewas quite unmoved by her words.

  "'Mademoiselle,' he said calmly, when she paused, 'you may be surethat I should not have undertaken this scheme, unless I had fullyweighed the consequences. My plans have been so laid that whateversearch may be made for you will be in vain. Here you are, and hereyou will remain until you listen to my suit. Every want shall besatisfied, and every wish complied with; but, whether it is oneyear or five, you will not leave this house until you leave it asmy bride.'

  "'Then, sir,' she said passionately, 'I shall be a prisoner forlife.'

  "'So you may think, at present, mademoiselle,' he said. 'And Iexpected nothing else. But, with time and reflection, you may cometo think otherwise. Union with me is not so terrible a matter. Myrank you know, and standing high, as I do, in the favour of HisMost Gracious Majesty, your position at court will be such asmight gratify the daughter of the noblest family in France. Thestudy of my life will be to make you happy.

  "'I shall now leave you to think over the matter. I shall notpester you with my attentions, and for another month you will notsee me again. At the end of that time, I trust that you will haveseen the futility of condemning yourself to further captivity, andwill be disposed to make more allowance, than at present, for thestep to which my passion for yourself has driven me.'

  "It was just a month since she had been carried off, and, the veryday when you rescued her, the old woman had informed her that thevicomte would do himself the pleasure of calling upon her the nextday. For the first fortnight she had held up bravely, in the hopethat I should discover the place where she had been hidden. Thenshe began to feel the imprisonment and silence telling upon her,for the old woman only entered to bring in her meals, and neveropened her lips, except on the first occasion, when she told herthat she was strictly forbidden to converse
with her. After thatshe began to despair, and the news that her abductor would visither, the next day, decided her to make an attempt to escape. Shehad no difficulty in letting herself down from the window by theaid of her bedclothes, but she found that what had been saidrespecting the wall and gate was true, and that she was no nearerescape than she had been, before she had left her room. She wastrying, in vain, to unbar the gate, which, indeed, would have beenuseless could she have accomplished it, as it was also locked. Butshe was striving, with the energy of desperation, when the door ofthe house opened, and the men rushed out and seized her. As theydragged her back to the house, she uttered the cries that broughtyou to her assistance. The rest you know.

  "As soon as I heard her story, I went to the palace and asked fora private interview with the king. The king received me graciouslyenough, and asked, with an appearance of great interest, if I hadobtained any news of my daughter.

  "'I have more than obtained news, Your Majesty. I have my daughterback again, and I have come to demand justice at your hands.'

  "'I congratulate you, indeed, Baron,' the king said, with anappearance of warmth, but I saw his colour change, and wasconvinced that he knew something, at least, of the matter.

  "'And where has the damsel been hiding herself?' he went on.

  "'She has not been hiding herself, at all, Sire,' I said. 'She hasbeen abducted, by one of Your Majesty's courtiers, with theintention of forcing her into a marriage. His name, Sire, is theVicomte de Tulle, and I demand that justice shall be done me, andthat he shall receive the punishment due to so gross an outrage.'

  "The king was silent for a minute, and then said:

  "'He has, indeed, if you have been rightly informed, acted mostgrossly. Still, it is evident that he repented the step that hetook, and so suffered her to return to you.'

  "'Not so, Your Majesty,' I said. 'I owe her return to norepentance on his part, but to the gallantry of a young officerwho, passing the house where she was confined, heard her cries foraid, and, with his soldier servant, climbed the gate of theenclosure, and was there attacked by the man who had charge ofher, with four others. The young gentleman and his servant killedfour of them, and bound the other; and then, entering the house,compelled the woman who had been appointed to act as her servantto lead the way to her chamber. Fortunately, the carriage in whichshe had been taken there was still in the stables, with itshorses. The gallant young gentleman at once got the carriage inreadiness, placed my daughter in it, with the woman who had beenattending on her. The servant drove, and he rode by the side ofthe carriage, and in that way brought her home this morning.'

  "In spite of his efforts to appear indifferent, it was evidentthat the king was greatly annoyed. However, he only said:

  "'You did quite right to come to me, Baron. It is outrageous,indeed, that a young lady of my court should be thus carried off,and I will see that justice is done. And who is this officer, whohas rendered your daughter such a service?'

  "'His name is Kennedy, Sire. He is an ensign in O'Brien's Irishregiment.'

  "'I will myself send for him,' he said, 'and thank him for havingdefeated this disgraceful plot of the Vicomte de Tulle. I supposeyou are quite sure of all the circumstances, as you have told themto me?'

  "'It is impossible that there can be any mistake, Sire,' I said.'In the first place, I have my daughter's account. This isentirely corroborated by the old woman she had brought with her,and whose only hope of escaping from punishment lay in telling thetruth. In every respect, she fully confirmed my daughter'saccount.'

  "'But the vicomte has not been absent from Versailles, for thepast month. He has been at my morning levee, and on all otheroccasions at my breakfasts and dinners. He has walked with me inthe gardens, and been always present at the evening receptions.'

  "'That is so, Sire,' I said. 'My daughter, happily, saw him butonce; namely, on the morning after she was captured. He then toldher, frankly, that she would remain a prisoner until she consentedto marry him, however long the time might be. He said he wouldreturn in a month, and hoped by that time to find that, seeing thehopelessness of her position, she would be more inclined to accepthis suit.

  "'It was on the eve of his coming again that my daughter, in herdesperation, made the attempt to escape. She was foiled in hereffort, but this, nevertheless, brought about her rescue, for hercries, as her guards dragged her into the house, attracted theattention of Monsieur Kennedy, who forthwith, as I have told you,stormed the house, killed her guards, and brought her home to me.'

  "The king then sent for de Tulle, and spoke to him with greatsternness. The latter did not attempt to deny my accusation, butendeavoured to excuse himself, on the ground of the passion thathe had conceived for my daughter. Certainly, from the king's tone,I thought that he would at least have sent him to the Bastille;but, to my great disappointment, he wound up his reproof bysaying:

  "'I can, of course, make some allowances for your passion for socharming a young lady as Mademoiselle Pointdexter, but the outrageyou committed is far too serious to be pardoned. You will at oncerepair to your estates, and will remain there during my pleasure.'

  "The vicomte bowed and withdrew, and, an hour later, leftVersailles. The king turned to me, as he left the room, and said,'I trust, Monsieur le Baron, that you are content that justice hasbeen done.'

  "I was too angry to choose my words, and I said firmly, 'I cannotsay that I am content, Your Majesty. Such an outrage as that whichhas been perpetrated upon my daughter deserves a far heavierpunishment than banishment from court; and methinks that animprisonment, as long as that which he intended to inflict uponher unless she consented to be his wife, would have much morenearly met the justice of the case.'

  "The king rose to his feet suddenly, and I thought that myboldness would meet with the punishment that I desired for deTulle; but he bit his lips, and then said coldly:

  "'You are not often at court, Baron Pointdexter, and are doubtlessignorant that I am not accustomed to be spoken to, in the tonethat you have used. However, I can make due allowance for thegreat anxiety that you have suffered, at your daughter'sdisappearance. I trust that I shall see you and your daughter atmy levee, this evening.'

  "As this was a command, of course we went, and I am bound to saythat the king did all in his power to show to his court that heconsidered her to be wholly blameless. Of course, the story hadalready got about, and it was known that the vicomte had beenordered to his estates. The king was markedly civil to Anne,talked to her for some time, expressed his deep regret that sheshould have been subject to such an outrage, while staying at hiscourt, and said, in a tone loud enough to be heard by all standinground:

  "'The only redeeming point in the matter is, that the Vicomte deTulle in no way troubled or molested you, and that you only sawhim, for a few minutes, on the first day of your confinement.'

  "I need not say that this royal utterance was most valuable to mydaughter, and that it at once silenced any malicious scandal thatmight otherwise have got about.

  "The king stopped to speak to me, immediately afterwards, and Isaid:

  "'I trust that you will pardon the words I spoke this morning.Your Majesty has rendered me and my daughter an inestimableservice, by the speech that you have just made.'

  "Thus, although dissatisfied with the punishment inflicted on theVicomte de Tulle, and believing that the king had a shrewd ideawho her abductor was, I am grateful to him for shielding mydaughter from ill tongues, by his marked kindness to her, and bydeclaring openly that de Tulle had not seen her, since the day ofher abduction. I intended to return home tomorrow, but the kinghimself, when I went this morning to pay my respects, and state myintention of taking Anne home, bade those standing round to fallback, and was good enough to say in a low voice to me:

  "'I think, Baron, that you would do well to reconsider yourdecision to leave tomorrow. Your sudden departure would give riseto ill-natured talk. It would be wiser to stay here, for a shorttime, till the gossip and wonder have passed away.'


  "I saw that His Majesty was right, and shall stay here for a shorttime longer. It would certainly have a bad effect, were we to seemto run away and hide ourselves in the provinces."

  Mademoiselle de Pointdexter had retired when her father began torelate to Desmond what had happened.

  "I know little of life in Paris, Monsieur le Baron," Desmond said,"but it certainly seems to me monstrous, that the man whocommitted this foul outrage should escape with what is, doubtless,but a short banishment from court."

  "I do not know that the matter is ended yet, Monsieur Kennedy. Inspite of the edicts against duelling, I myself should havedemanded satisfaction from him, for this attack upon the honour ofmy family, but I am at present Anne's only protector. It is manyyears since I have drawn a sword, while de Tulle is noted as afencer, and has had many affairs, of which he has escaped theconsequences owing to royal favour. Therefore, were I to challengehim, the chances are that I should be killed, in which case mydaughter would become a ward of the crown, and her hand and estatebe bestowed on one of the king's creatures. But, as I said, thematter is not likely to rest as it is.

  "Anne has, with my full consent and approval, given her love to ayoung gentleman of our province. He is a large-landed proprietor,and a connection of our family. They are not, as yet, formallybetrothed, for I have no wish to lose her so soon; and, in spiteof the present fashion of early marriages, I by no means approveof them, and told Monsieur de la Vallee that they must wait foranother couple of years.

  "I need scarcely say that, after what has happened, I shallreconsider my decision; for the sooner she is married, and beyondthe reach of a repetition of this outrage, the better. I imagine,however, that the young gentleman will be no better satisfied thanI am, that the matter should have been passed over so lightly; andwill take it into his own hands, and send a challenge immediatelyto the vicomte. He is high spirited, and has the reputation amongus of being a good fencer, but I doubt whether he can possess suchskill as that which de Tulle has acquired. It is not always theinjured person that comes off victorious in a duel; and, shouldfortune go against Monsieur de la Vallee, it would be a terribleblow to my daughter, and indeed to myself, for I am much attachedto him. She is worrying about it, already.

  "Of course, it is impossible that the affair can be hidden fromhim. It is public property now; and therefore, I sent off one ofmy grooms, an hour since, with a letter to him.

  "Hitherto, I had not written to him about my daughter'sdisappearance. Knowing he would, on hearing of it, at once hastenhere, where he could do no good and would only add to my trouble,I thought it best to let matters go on as they were. I had beendoing everything that was possible, and to have his troubles aswell as my own on my hands would have driven me to distraction.

  "The groom is to change horses at every post house, and to use thegreatest possible speed. You may be sure that Monsieur de laVallee will do the same, and that in six days he will be here. Ihave given him the merest outline of the affair, and have notmentioned the name of Anne's abductor. Had I done so, it isprobable that Philip would have gone straight to de Tulle, andforced on an encounter at once. As it is, I trust that Anne and I,between us, may persuade him to take no step in the matter. It isthe honour of my family, not of his, that has been attacked. Hadhe been betrothed to my daughter, he would have been in a positionto take up her quarrel. As it is, he has no status, except distantrelationship.

  "And now, Monsieur Kennedy, I have the king's order to take you tothe palace. He asked me several questions about you this morning.I said that I had not yet seen you, but that you were riding overhere today, and he said:

  "'Bring him to me when he comes, Baron. I should like to see thisyoung fire eater, who thrust himself so boldly into a matter inwhich he had no concern, solely because he heard a woman's voicecalling for help.'"

  "I am sorry to hear it," Desmond said, bluntly. "From what you sayI imagine that, in spite of what he has done, the king is far fromgratified at the failure of his favourite's plan. However, Icannot disobey his commands in the matter."