Chapter 18

The Fight on the Staircase.

About seven o'clock in the evening John Humphreys, who was just off duty, joined me, and shortly afterwards Raoul arrived.

"No news?" cried the latter, noticing my gloomy looks. "Well, there is no need to despair. I have so arranged that Peleton will find it difficult to slip through the gates, and I have heard something of your cousin. Young D'Arcy met him last evening in the Rue de Roi."

"Then he has taken up his old quarters in La Boule d'Or and hidden Peleton there!" I exclaimed; but Raoul shook his head.

"Conde's troopers have searched the house by now, and no doubt a watch is set. Still, we might walk that way."

"Have you told Armand the story?"

"Yes, he can be trusted; and he has a host of acquaintances."

"Very well, let us go down to the Rue de Roi;" then, turning to Humphreys, I remarked, "we may have need of our swords to-night."

We had only just turned the corner of the street, when Raoul exclaimed, "Why, there is D'Arcy! Armand, here is an old friend who will be glad to see you."

"De Lalande! So they have let you out of the Bastille? Conde made a mistake. He should have kept you behind the bars till the trouble is at an end. You will soon be running into fresh mischief. Where are you going now?"

"On a voyage of discovery," said Raoul. "Will you come?"

"Gladly! The times are out of joint, and I have nothing to do."

I introduced him to Humphreys, and we went on together to the Rue de Roi. Leaving us at the corner, to watch, Raoul crossed the road and boldly entered the famous inn. The street was crowded with people, and, lest some chance passer-by might recognise me, I muffled my face, and leaned against the wall, while Armand and John Humphreys stood a short distance off.

Raoul was absent a long time, and we began to fidget, but presently he came out and made his way toward us.

"We are on a false scent," he said; "our quarry has not been there, though Henri has. Conde's troopers have searched the house twice in three days, and the landlord is quite indignant. But I believe the rascal knows something about Peleton."

Armand was on the point of answering when I caught sight of a figure which induced me to draw my companions back where they would not be noticed. It was Pillot in a tremendous hurry. He had been running fast: his hair and face were wet with perspiration; he was breathing irregularly, and kept glancing over his shoulder as if expecting to discover an enemy. Stopping outside the inn, he looked anxiously up the street, was apparently reassured, and then darted like an eel up the side entrance.

"The Abbe's man," said D'Arcy; "the poor fellow our friend here half murdered."

Raoul became excited. "A messenger either to or from Henri de Lalande!" he exclaimed, and was about to dart across the road when I pulled him back roughly, saying, "Be still! You will spoil everything. Let us stay here and follow when he returns."

"Good advice!" agreed D'Arcy. "We may learn something. Hola! What an uproar! Something serious the matter one would imagine. Here comes D'Artagnan with his musketeers! The fellow rides as if Paris belongs to him. See how he sweeps the _canaille_ out of his path!"

"The crowd is closing up," said Humphreys, "and the musketeers will have hard work to force a way. Ah! there's one fellow down. D'Artagnan is a fine rider. See how he manages his horse! He would have done good work in our ranks at Naseby. And a sworder, too! There's a stroke!"

"Smother him!" laughed D'Arcy; "we shall have the rabble here in a minute. Be quiet, my dear fellow; I warrant D'Artagnan is no better fencer than yourself."

"Hang D'Artagnan!" cried Raoul excitedly. "Look, there goes the little man."

"And a man in a gray cloak behind him! Is that Peleton?"

"No," said I, "it is my cousin. Quick, let us follow and see where they go."

While the squabble progressed in the narrow street, and the air was filled with threats and cries of terror, while steel rang against steel, and from more than one quarter came the sounds of firing, we ran swiftly in the wake of my cousin and his henchman. Pillot surprised us by the rapidity of his movements. Though so short of stature he ran at a tremendous pace, and had the man in the gray cloak been able to keep pace with him, we must soon have been thrown off. As it was, we kept the second of the fugitives well in view; and so the chase continued almost without a stop, save when Pillot halted from motives of prudence.

The noise of the strife behind us died away; we were in a labyrinth of narrow streets, and had need of caution, though Humphreys suggested overtaking my cousin, and forcing him at the point of the sword to speak.

"No, no," I exclaimed, panting, "that will never do. A fight here would bring the people out in hundreds. Besides, my cousin is no coward, and we should obtain nothing from him by force."

So we ran on, maintaining the interval between us and the gray mantle, till at length Pillot stopped for his master, while Armand d'Arcy, plucking my sleeve, whispered, "Do you know where we are?"

"Yes," I answered quietly, "I recognise the street. Higher up on the other side is the house of Martin the astrologer. We shall discover something now. Unless I am very greatly mistaken we are close to Peleton's hiding-place."

"Your cousin is an artful rascal, Albert. Just notice how unconcernedly he walks along. No one would imagine he was in any danger. Ah! They are crossing the road! _Corbleu!_ you were right--they are going to Martin's."

"Follow me one at a time, and without making a sound," I said, softly. "Keep close to the wall, and well out of sight. What an old fox Martin is! I thought Mazarin had taught him a lesson."

Hiding in a doorway below the astrologer's house we awaited events. It was evident that Pillot had not fetched his master for nothing, and Raoul, who stood next to me, whispered, "They have scented danger of some sort, either to Henri or to Peleton."

"Peleton is shut up in that house somewhere, take my word for it," I answered quietly. "Look!"

Drawing a whistle from beneath his mantle, Henri blew sharply, and almost immediately the window was thrown up. We could not hear the conversation, but presently the man inside closed the window, and a few minutes later the door was opened. Then Henri said something in a whisper to Pillot and entered. The little man waited till his master had disappeared, gave a last glance at the house, and turned, as we supposed, to come down the street.

"Let him pass," whispered Raoul, "then spring on him from behind and clap a mantle over his head. We must not let him call for help."

"Be as gentle as possible; he is a plucky fellow, and I am a long way in his debt. Don't forget that he saved my life."

To our surprise, however, Pillot did not get farther than the next house, when he stopped, and began to unlock the door. This unexpected manoeuvre held us in amazement, but Raoul, who had no intention to be thus baulked of his prey, acted promptly. Bounding from his hiding-place, he reached the door almost at one leap, and his hands closed like a vice round Pillot's neck. The next instant we were all in the passage, and D'Arcy closed the door.

"Now," exclaimed Raoul, loosening his grip, "if you raise your voice you are a dead man. Do you understand?"

"'Tredame!" spluttered the dwarf, rubbing his neck, "monsieur explains himself well. He speaks to the point and leaves no room for mistakes. But perhaps monsieur will tell me the reason for this unexpected visit. My poor house is not often honoured by such company!"

"The wheel has turned again, Pillot; nothing more," I laughed. "We want to see M. Peleton, who is a very dear friend of ours."

"Is it you, monsieur? It would have been better for us had I left you to Maubranne's mercy. As to M. Peleton, how should I know anything of him? He disappeared after that affair with Conde."

"Be sensible, Pillot, the game is against you. We are four; you are one, and in our power. Accept your defeat like a man, and wait till the wheel brings you on top again. Peleton is in this house or the next, and we intend to find him. Come, there is no time to waste."

"Monsieur is so pressing one cannot refuse him," said he, and led the way along the passage, with Raoul's pistol at his head by way of reminder.

"We must have a light," D'Arcy declared; "there is no fun in visiting our friends in the dark."

"There is a lighted candle in the room on our left," remarked Pillot, and, with Raoul still guarding him, he went to fetch it.

We were now at the bottom of the stairs, and I suggested that Armand and Humphreys should stay there as a kind of rear-guard.

"A good plan!" said Raoul. "Should this fellow attempt to escape run your sword through him. Now, my man, lead on, and remember you will pay dearly for mistakes."

I had rarely known my comrade so firm, so energetic and determined: this was a phase of his character not often shown. Pillot shrugged his shoulders carelessly and led the way. Up we went through the silent house, past many empty rooms, till our guide came to a halt on the topmost storey.

"Our dear Peleton likes to be high up," said he with a grin; "it is so quiet and pleasant. By this time most likely he has gone to bed; he keeps good hours. Perhaps monsieur will unlock the door while I hold the candle," and he handed Raoul a key.

Stooping down, my comrade endeavoured to insert the key, but there was evidently something amiss.

"Monsieur has not the knack," said Pillot. "Shall I try?"

"I believe you have given me the wrong key, you rascal."

"Oh, surely not, monsieur! I could not have been so stupid. Let me see it. No, it is the proper key, monsieur. See," and taking the key from Raoul, he asked him to hold the light.

In passing from one to the other the candle by some means dropped to the ground and the light was extinguished, leaving us in darkness.

"Do not move, monsieur; it is close to your foot. Now I have it! Ah, you have kicked it away. What a misfortune!"

We could hear the rascal groping about for a time; then all was still, and he made no reply to our calling. Raoul was furious, and threatened to kill the fellow, when he caught him, a clause very needful to add.

"He has tricked us!" said Raoul, searching for the candle, though with small hope of finding it.

To my astonishment, for I thought Pillot too sharp to leave it behind, the candle lay unbroken not a yard from my feet, and a light soon showed that our guide had disappeared. It was very annoying to be duped in this way, but I could not help laughing at Pillot's craftiness.

"He won't try to get past Armand and Humphreys," said Raoul; "he will hide away in one of the empty rooms."

Suddenly some words spoken by Mazarin months before came into my mind, and I began to rail at my folly.

"Raoul," I cried, "unless we get Peleton out quickly it will be too late. There is a means of communication between the two houses, and Pillot has gone for assistance."

"Peleton isn't likely to be in here," growled Raoul.

"Why not? Pillot would have given you the right key if the room was empty. Anyway we will find out," and taking a run I dashed myself against the door.

Raoul followed, and then we went at it together. Once, twice, thrice. The last time it showed signs of yielding--presently with a crash it burst open.

"Come on," I cried, seizing the candle which I had placed upright against the wall. "Can you see anyone?"

"No," answered Raoul, "but there is a bed in the corner. Bring the candle."

We ran across the room quickly, and there, fully dressed, but with his arms bound, lay Peleton. His face was ghastly white, and he shook with fear.

"Get up," I cried sharply--there was no leisure for ceremony--"do you hear?"

"What do you want with me?" he whined, for, with all his bluster, the fellow had no more pluck than a pigeon.

"To carry you to Conde--dead or alive--you can take your choice. If you listen to my advice, you will come peaceably. I will go first, Raoul; you come behind and keep a sharp eye on our friend."

"And I will use a sharp sword if he doesn't mind himself," said Raoul.

Now I shall always believe that as soon as his first fright had passed, Peleton was rather pleased than otherwise to accompany us. His information would be worth much to Conde, and I have no doubt he expected to drive a very good bargain. He did not attempt the least resistance, nor did he endeavour to lag behind as I hurried him from the room.

We had reached the head of the stairs when I drew a sharp breath, and Raoul uttered a cry of anger. The scene was lit up by the flare of torches, and Pillot's shrill laugh came floating up to us. At the same moment we heard Henri's mocking voice, and there, sword in hand, stood my cousin, barring our path. Below him were several brawny ruffians, bearing pikes and clubs, and, last of all, Pillot, who shouted with good-humoured banter, "Aha! the wheel has turned again, monsieur!"

Henri affected to treat the matter as a joke, saying, "Chut! Albert, did you not know Peleton was my guest? I cannot allow him to leave at this hour! The night air is not good for him. Return to your room, M. Peleton, my cousin will accept your excuses."

"A truce to this farce," I cried. "Will you let us pass peacefully?"

"Certainly. You can come down, but I cannot part with M. Peleton just yet. I enjoy his society too much."

"We shall not leave without Peleton," I cried.

"Then you will not go at all. I am sorry, there is no help for it."

He kept his temper admirably, but none the less I felt that if we were to get past, it would be by force of arms, so, raising my voice, I called to Armand and Humphreys who were still keeping guard at the foot of the stairs. In an instant they came bounding up, and Henri, polite to the last, exclaimed, "As you will, cousin, but remember I am not to blame."

The next instant we were in the thick of the fight. By the accident of position Raoul was opposed to Henri; Pillot, with three companions, disputed the way with our friends below, while three others rushed fiercely at me. One, advancing too hurriedly, ran himself on the point of my sword, but the others pressed their assault so savagely that I had much ado to preserve my head from being battered in.

Once during the melee my foot slipped, and I was brought to my knees. A short, thick-set man, whom I dimly recognised as Pierre, stood over me with his club raised for striking. I saw him swing the weapon round so as to deliver a sturdier blow, when, with a howl of pain he let the club fall.

"Jump up, De Lalande! Where's our man? Ah, there he is! Get him between us and we will make a rush for it."

The speaker was John Humphreys, who had gallantly fought his way to my side, and was now keeping a clear space with his sword. Peleton stood just above us, shivering with fear, and I must admit that his position was far from pleasant. His arms were still bound, so that he could not ward off a blow, and one brawny ruffian was making desperate efforts to reach him.

Suddenly there arose a terrible cry, sending a thrill of fear to our hearts. The staircase was on fire! Armand called to us to descend quickly; Pillot screamed to his master. My assailants, thoroughly cowed, beat a hasty retreat, Raoul and Henri alone, undisturbed by the cries, continued the deadly fight.

"Run, Humphreys," I cried, "and do not let this fellow slip away when he reaches the bottom."

The Englishman nodded, and dashed off, while I turned to Peleton.

"Come," I said, "or you will be burned to death," but he stood like a statue. He seemed numbed by fear and unable to move a step, until I shook him roughly. Then he roused himself and let me lead him.

As we came abreast of my cousin, I saw him fall, wounded, but could not go to his help. Peleton's nerves had broken down, and without me to lean on he must have stumbled. The flames took a firmer hold, the heat became intense, the smoke was suffocating. I called Raoul by name; he answered cheerily, bidding me not to lose Peleton.

One man, quickly followed by a second, sprang past me and hurried to the top of the staircase. It was Pillot with a trusty comrade, and the dwarf, recognising me, shouted some directions, which, unfortunately, I failed to understand. The smoke filled my nostrils, I began to suffocate, but staggered on blindly, dragging Peleton with me. Below us the stairs had begun to burn--soon they would fall with a crash.

And where was Raoul? Why was my gallant friend not by my side? Had Pillot slain his master's enemy in the confusion? I endeavoured to call again, but only a dull, choking sound came from my throat. The horror of the situation gave me superhuman strength. I dragged Peleton from step to step, caring nothing for smoke or flames; if the fire scorched my feet I felt no pain.

Suddenly two figures sprang toward me; they were Armand and John Humphreys, and together we hurried Peleton into one of the lower rooms which the flames had not reached.

"Attend to him," I cried, "don't let him escape," and ran swiftly to the staircase, but Armand was as quick as I, and as I mounted the first step he pulled me back.

"Where are you going?" he demanded, and his tone was stern and peremptory.

"To seek for Raoul. Quick, let me go, or I shall be too late."

In reply he tightened his hold on my arm, exclaiming, "It is utterly useless, Albert, the staircase will be down in a few seconds, you will only throw your life away."

I begged and prayed him to release me, but he clung the more strenuously for my appeals, till at last I struggled like a madman to get loose. The steadfast fellow, however, kept his grip, and I could not fling him off.

In the very midst of the struggle came the sound of a terrific crash, and a broad tongue of flame leaped up to the roof of the building. Then Armand freed my arms; against my will he had saved me from a terrible death--the staircase had fallen in bodily.

"Poor Raoul!" exclaimed my companion sorrowfully, but the lump in my throat prevented me from making any reply. I could only stand and stare at the burning debris which formed the funeral pile of my gallant comrade.