Clash of Arms: A Romance by John Bloundelle- Burton

Author:John Bloundelle- Burton [Burton, John Bloundelle-]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-09-06T22:00:00+00:00

"Are they, these men belonging to the Prince, of this neighbourhood?" asked Andrew, struck by a sudden idea, "or only passing through to their homes. What think you?"

"How can I tell? I hear their voices all jangling together, but can distinguish none. They sing," he said, "a song of the pays all the same--but then we all sing that." And he bent his right ear towards the Tête d'Or, whence was issuing, amidst the clinking of glasses and other sounds, the refrain of " Lorraine, Lorraine, ma douce patrie."

"Go in and see," said Andrew; "drink a cup with them, you may know some."

And as Jean, seemingly nothing loth, entered the inn, Andrew strolled up and down in the darkness that had now set in.

He could not judge from the sounds that arose as the song finished whether they were applause and excitement at the performance, or a welcome extended by the returned soldiers to an old friend, but after waiting a quarter of an hour or, perhaps, less, Jean returned--wiping his mouth on his sleeve--and instantly said:

"Four are of this neighbourhood. One of Plombières itself, another of Fougerolles, another of Aillevillers, a fourth from the Val d'Ajol."

"Who is the biggest of all--one bigger than I? With a great beard? Do you know him?"

"He--he is from Aillevillers, hard by. Pierre Lupin. Ho! figurez-vous, if he thought De Bois-Vallée was here he would spit him like a lark, or hug him to death in those great arms. Lupin was in his troop when the Vicomte rode captain under De Vaudemont, and was badly treated. If he only knew--nay, if all the four only knew."

"Yet," said Andrew, "let them not think so yet. I command you. Later--if I come not back--then enlist them in the service of vengeance. And, for this Lupin--tell him that the Englishman who offended him has been slain by De Bois-Vallée. He and I had a few words together, yet that passed--is drowned in a cup. And he seems a brave and honest soldier--he will forget our difference. Remember, however, tell them nothing as yet."

"I will remember," answered Jean, repeating his lesson; "if you come not back soon, the wolf's house will meet its fate. Also, we will remember there is a woman to be saved. Fear not!" Whereon they separated.

The moon hung rusty in the heavens half an hour later, proclaiming that there was mist between her and the earth, as Andrew rode slowly up the ascent of the pass which lay between Plombières and Remiremont. Yet it was a good night, too, for the errand he was on, one of inspection of the house of his enemy, into which he meant later to obtain entrance somehow; a night on which a figure keeping well in the shadow could be screened from observation. A night in which, he thought, he might draw near enough to the house to examine the front and the other two sides he had been unable to see from the summit of the wall beneath the slope, at the back of the mansion.

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