The Monk (15 page)

“So!” cried Baptiste, as I fell back in my chair, “at last he sleeps! I began to think that he had scented our design, and that we should have been forced to dispatch him at all events.”

“And why not dispatch him at all events?” enquired the ferocious Jacques: “why leave him the possibility of betraying our secret? Marguerite, give me one of my pistols: a single touch of the trigger will finish him at once.”

“And supposing,” rejoined the father, “supposing that our friends should not arrive to-night, a pretty figure we should make when the servants enquire for him in the morning! No, no, Jacques; we must wait for our associates. If they join us, we are strong enough to dispatch the domestics as well as their masters, and the booty is our own. If Claude does not find the troop, we must take patience, and suffer the prey to slip through our fingers. Ah! boys, boys, had you arrived but five minutes sooner, the Spaniard would have been done for, and two thousand pistoles our own. But you are always out of the way when you are most wanted. You are the most unlucky rogues——”

“Well, well, father!” answered Jacques; “had you been of my mind, all would have been over by this time. You, Robert, Claude, and myself—why the strangers were but double the number, and I warrant you we might have mastered them. However, Claude is gone; ’Tis too late to think of it now. We must wait patiently for the arrival of the gang; and if the travellers escape us to-night, we must take care to way-lay them to-morrow.”

“True! true!” said Baptiste; “Marguerite, have you given the sleeping-draught to the waiting-women?”

She replied in the affirmative.

“All then is safe. Come, come, boys; whatever falls out, we have no reason to complain of this adventure. We run no danger, may gain much, and can lose nothing.”

At this moment I heard a trampling of horses. Oh! how dreadful was the sound to my ears! A cold sweat flowed down my forehead, and I felt all the terrors of impending death. I was by no means re-assured by hearing the compassionate Marguerite exclaim, in the accents of despair,

“Almighty God! they are lost.”

Luckily the woodman and his sons were too much occupied by the arrival of their associates to attend to me, or the violence of my agitation would have convinced them that my sleep was feigned.

“Open! open!” exclaimed several voices on the outside of the cottage.

“Yes! yes!” cried Baptiste joyfully; “they are our friends, sure enough. Now then our booty is certain. Away! lads, away! Lead them to the barn; you know what is to be done there.”

Robert hastened to open the door of the cottage.

“But first,” said Jacques, taking up his arms, “first let me dispatch these sleepers.”

“No, no, no!” replied his father: “Go you to the barn, where your presence is wanted. Leave me to take care of these and the women above.”

Jacques obeyed, and followed his brother. They seemed to converse with the new-comers for a few minutes; after which I heard the robbers dismount, and, as I conjectured, bend their course towards the barn.

“So! that is wisely done!” muttered Baptiste; “they have quitted their horses, that they may fall upon the strangers by surprise. Good! good! and now to business.”

I heard him approach a small cupboard which was fixed up in a distant part of the room, and unlock it. At this moment I felt myself shaken gently.

“Now! now!” whispered Marguerite.

I opened my eyes. Baptiste stood with his back towards me. No one else was in the room save Marguerite and the sleeping lady. The villain had taken a dagger from the cupboard, and seemed examining whether it was sufficiently sharp. I had neglected to furnish myself with arms; but I perceived this to be my only chance of escaping, and resolved not to lose the opportunity. I sprang from my seat, darted suddenly upon Baptiste, and, clasping my hands round his throat, pressed it so forcibly as to prevent his uttering a single cry. You may remember, that I was remarkable at Salamanca for the power of my arm. It now rendered me an essential service. Surprised, terrified, and breathless, the villain was by no means an equal antagonist. I threw him upon the ground; I grasped him still tighter; and while I fixed him without motion upon the floor, Marguerite, wresting the dagger from his hand, plunged it repeatedly in his heart till he expired.

No sooner was this horrible but necessary act perpetrated, than Marguerite called on me to follow her.

“Flight is our only refuge,” said she, “quick! quick! away!”

I hesitated not to obey her; but unwilling to leave the baroness a victim to the vengeance of the robbers, I raised her in my arms still sleeping, and hastened after Marguerite. The horses of the banditti were fastened near the door. My conductress sprang upon one of them. I followed her example, placed the baroness before me, and spurred on my horse. Our only hope was to reach Strasbourg, which was much nearer than the perfidious Claude had assured me. Marguerite was well acquainted with the road, and galloped on before me. We were obliged to pass by the barn, where the robbers were slaughtering our domestics. The door was open: we distinguished the shrieks of the dying, and imprecations of the murderers. What I felt at that moment language is unable to describe.

Jacques heard the trampling of our horses, as we rushed by the barn. He flew to the door with a burning torch in his hand, and easily recognised the fugitives.

“Betrayed! betrayed!” he shouted to his companions.

Instantly they left their bloody work, and hastened to regain their horses. We heard no more. I buried my spurs in the sides of my courser, and Marguerite goaded on hers with the poniard which had already rendered us such good service. We flew like lightning, and gained the open plains. Already was Strasbourg’s steeple in sight, when we heard the robbers pursuing us. Marguerite looked back, and distinguished our followers descending a small hill at no great distance. It was in vain that we urged on our horses: the noise approached nearer with every moment.

“We are lost!” she exclaimed; “the villains gain upon us!”

“On! on!” replied I; “I hear the trampling of horses coming from the town.”

We redoubled our exertions, and were soon aware of a numerous band of cavaliers, who came towards us at full speed. They were on the point of passing us.

“Stay! stay!” shrieked Marguerite; “save us! for God’s sake, save us!”

The foremost, who seemed to act as guide, immediately reined in his steed.

“ ’Tis she! ’Tis she!” exclaimed he, springing upon the ground: “Stop, my lord, stop! they are safe! ’Tis my mother!”

At the same moment Marguerite threw herself from her horse, clasped him in her arms, and covered him with kisses. The other cavaliers stopped at the exclamation.

“The baroness Lindenberg!” cried another of the strangers eagerly: “Where is she? Is she not with you?”

He stopped on beholding her lying senseless in my arms. Hastily he caught her from me. The profound sleep in which she was plunged, made him at first tremble for her life; but the beating of her heart soon re-assured him.

“God be thanked!” said he, “she has escaped unhurt.”

I interrupted his joy by pointing out the brigands, who continued to approach. No sooner had I mentioned them, than the greatest part of the company, which appeared to be chiefly composed of soldiers, hastened forward to meet them. The villains staid not to receive their attack. Perceiving their danger, they turned the heads of their horses, and fled into the wood, whither they were followed by our preservers. In the mean while the stranger, whom I guessed to be the baron Lindenberg, after thanking me for my care of his lady, proposed our returning with all speed to the town. The baroness, on whom the effects of the opiate had not ceased to operate, was placed before him; Marguerite and her son remounted their horses; the baron’s domestics followed, and we soon arrived at the inn, where he had taken his apartments.

This was at the Austrian Eagle, where my banker, whom before my quitting Paris I had apprised of my intention to visit Strasbourg, had prepared lodgings for me. I rejoiced at this circumstance. It gave me an opportunity of cultivating the baron’s acquaintance, which I foresaw would be of use to me in Germany. Immediately upon our arrival, the lady was conveyed to bed. A physician was sent for, who prescribed a medicine likely to counteract the effects of the sleepy potion; and after it had been poured down her throat, she was committed to the care of the hostess. The baron then addressed himself to me, and entreated me to recount the particulars of this adventure. I complied with his request instantaneously; for, in pain respecting Stephano’s fate, whom I had been compelled to abandon to the cruelty of the banditti, I found it impossible for me to repose till I had some news of him. I received but too soon the intelligence that my trusty servant had perished. The soldiers who had pursued the brigands, returned while I was employed in relating my adventure to the baron. By their account, I found that the robbers had been overtaken. Guilt and true courage are incompatible: they had thrown themselves at the feet of their pursuers, had surrendered themselves without striking a blow, had discovered their secret retreat, made known their signals by which the rest of the gang might be seized, and, in short, had betrayed every mark of cowardice and baseness. By this means the whole of the band, consisting of near sixty persons, had been made prisoners, bound, and conducted to Strasbourg. Some of the soldiers hastened to the cottage, one of the banditti serving them as guide. Their first visit was to the fatal barn, where they were fortunate enough to find two of the baron’s servants still alive, though desperately wounded. The rest had expired beneath the swords of the robbers, and of these my unhappy Stephano was one.

Alarmed at our escape, the robbers, in their haste to overtake us, had neglected to visit the cottage; in consequence, the soldiers found the two waiting-women unhurt, and buried in the same death-like slumber which had overpowered their mistress. There was nobody else found in the cottage, except a child not above four years old, which the soldiers brought away with them. We were busying ourselves with conjectures respecting the birth of this little unfortunate, when Marguerite rushed into the room with the baby in her arms. She fell at the feet of the officer who was making us this report, and blessed him a thousand times for the preservation of her child.

When the first burst of maternal tenderness was over, I besought her to declare by what means she had been united to a man whose principles seemed so totally discordant with her own. She bent her eyes downwards, and wiped a few tears from her cheek.

“Gentlemen,” said she, after a silence of some minutes, “I would request a favour of you. You have a right to know on whom you confer an obligation; I will not, therefore, stifle a confession which covers me with shame; but permit me to comprise it in as few words as possible.

“I was born in Strasbourg, of respectable parents; their names I must at present conceal. My father still lives, and deserves not to be involved in my infamy. If you grant my request, you shall be informed of my family name. A villain made himself master of my affections, and to follow him I quitted my father’s house. Yet, though my passions overpowered my virtue, I sunk not into that degeneracy of vice but too commonly the lot of women who make the first false step. I loved my seducer, dearly loved him! I was true to his bed: this baby, and the youth who warned you, my lord baron, of your lady’s danger, are the pledges of our affection. Even at this moment I lament his loss, though ’Tis to him that I owe all the miseries of my existence.

“He was of noble birth, but he had squandered away his paternal inheritance. His relations considered him as a disgrace to their name, and utterly discarded him. His excesses drew upon him the indignation of the police. He was obliged to fly from Strasbourg; and saw no other resource from beggary than an union with the banditti who infested the neighbouring forest, and whose troop was chiefly composed of young men of family in the same predicament with himself. I was determined not to forsake him. I followed him to the cavern of the brigands, and shared with him the misery inseparable from a life of pillage. But though I was aware that our existence was supported by plunder, I knew not all the horrible circumstances attached to my lover’s profession: these he concealed from me with the utmost care. He was conscious that my sentiments were not sufficiently depraved to look without horror upon assassination. He supposed, and with justice, that I should fly with detestation from the embraces of a murderer. Eight years of possession had not abated his love for me; and he cautiously removed from my knowledge every circumstance which might lead me to suspect the crimes in which he but too often participated. He succeeded perfectly. It was not till after my seducer’s death that I discovered his hands to have been stained with the blood of innocence.

“One fatal night he was brought back to the cavern, covered with wounds: he received them in attacking an English traveller, whom his companions immediately sacrificed to their resentment. He had only time to entreat my pardon for all the sorrows which he had caused me: he pressed my hand to his lips, and expired. My grief was inexpressible. As soon as its violence abated, I resolved to return to Strasbourg, to throw myself, with my two children, at my father’s feet, and implore his forgiveness, though I little hoped to obtain it. What was my consternation when informed, that no one entrusted with the secret of their retreat was ever permitted to quit the troop of the banditti; that I must give up all hopes of ever rejoining society, and consent instantly to accept one of their band for my husband! My prayers and remonstrances were vain. They cast lots to decide to whose possession I should fall. I became the property of the infamous Baptiste. A robber, who had once been a monk, pronounced over us a burlesque rather than a religious ceremony: I and my children were delivered into the hands of my new husband, and he conveyed us immediately to his home.

“He assured me that he had long entertained for me the most ardent regard; but that friendship for my deceased lover had obliged him to stifle his desires. He endeavoured to reconcile me to my fate, and for some time treated me with respect and gentleness. At length, finding that my aversion rather increased than diminished, he obtained those favours by violence which I persisted to refuse him. No resource remained for me but to bear my sorrows with patience; I was conscious that I deserved them but too well. Flight was forbidden. My children were in the power of Baptiste; and he had sworn, that if I attempted to escape, their lives should pay for it. I had had too many opportunities of witnessing the barbarity of his nature, to doubt his fulfilling his oath to the very letter. Sad experience had convinced me of the horrors of my situation. My first lover had carefully concealed them from me; Baptiste rather rejoiced in opening my eyes to the cruelties of his profession, and strove to familiarise me with blood and slaughter.