Randall Parrish - Prisoners of Chance
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Randall Parrish >> Prisoners of Chance
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"I truly think, _padre_," exclaimed one of the group, with a careless
laugh, "if you had another drink of red wine beneath your cassock you
could never tell a prayer from a song; so for the sake of those poor
devils yonder we ought to pass you this time without demanding toll."
"To whom do you go at such unseemly hour with ghostly consolations?"
inquired the Commandant, negligently rolling a cigarette between his
long fingers, and resting back his head in supreme content.
"I give absolution unto De Noyan." In spite of my utmost endeavors my
voice trembled mentioning the name. I watched the fellow's face
narrowly, yet read nothing save reckless indifference.
"Ah! the gay Chevalier. Faith, I doubt not he hath grave need of thee
and thy paternosters ere he find peace. Yet surely, _padre_, 'twas
with him you were this very afternoon, while I was on guard before. I
marvel greatly he should care for your company so much. Saints, he
seems scarcely of the kidney to take kindly to so many prayers."
I felt a chill sweep across me even at this slight check. Had I dared
too much? Had I ventured too far? I knew not, yet spoke my next words
boldly, realizing that any retreat now would be impossible.
"Thou knowest little of men at such a moment; even careless hearts
learn fear of God as they face the end. Holy Mother! but 't would even
pale your black face, and put a stopper on that ribald tongue, were
grim Death stalking at your very heels. You may smile now, making
reckless mock of the sacraments, but that hour will come when you will
be as a child at the knee of Mother Church. Ay, I was with the
Chevalier to-day; 'twas the coming of that negro huckster which took me
from his side before, and I seek now to complete the gracious work
which then had well begun. Surely thou wilt not stand between a dying
man and his last confession!"
"Nay; not I. Let the poor devil have his chance, as may the good Lord
grant me mine. But, _padre_, I have only just returned from my last
round among the prisoners, and am greatly wearied, nor will I journey
that way again with you. In truth, 'tis all I can well do to guide my
own footsteps, without helping along a priest of thy weight. So here,
_padre_, take the key, and, mind ye, have it safely back in my hands
before the ship's bell soundeth the half hour."
Hastily snatching the bit of iron he flung rattling on the deck at my
feet, I paused merely long enough to favor the company with parting
admonition on their probable future. Then, glad enough to be thus
easily rid of them, I lurched heavily forward into the narrow
passageway. Some coarse joke launched at my expense attracted the
attention of those behindhand speeded me onward.
My heart throbbed in anxious anticipation of what unknown trial was at
hand. Such rare fortune as had thus far attended my efforts, seemed
too remarkable to endure; nor was it impossible that, through some
unforeseen mischance, the cup of success might yet be stricken from my
very lips. So far at least I had made no mistake; evidently this Pere
Cassati was "hail fellow, well met" among these riotous guards aboard
the "Santa Maria," and I had played the part to their complete undoing.
But now I was facing a new experience, and stiffened myself to meet it
boldly, uncertain still what trick fate might have in store.
The sentinel, whom I discovered facing forward, hardly more than two
paces from that door having the figures "18" painted upon it, quickly
lowered his gun as I lurched unsteadily into sight. Greatly to my
relief, as soon as he obtained distinct view of his unexpected visitor,
he returned the piece carelessly to his shoulder, and leaned back, his
elbow against the arm-rack. He was a good-natured-looking fellow, with
round, boyish face, upon which streamed the full glare of a
swinging-lamp suspended from a chain fastened to an upper beam. His
unsuspicious appearance served greatly to reassure me.
"I give thee peace of Holy Church, my son," I muttered solemnly,
leaning heavily against the jamb of the door, uplifting my hand in
benediction. "May the presence of the Mother and Child guard thee in
time of battle."
The face of the young soldier grew sober, and he withdrew one hand from
its grasp on the shining musket piously to make the sign of the cross.
"I thank thee, _padre_, for thy blessing," he returned gratefully. "It
will be in accord with the prayers of those I left at home in Spain."
Whether or not guards on duty in the corridor had orders to pass the
father unquestioned, this lad, at least, made no effort to prevent my
inserting the great iron key within the lock of the door. Doubtless my
possession of it was accepted as evidence of my right to its use;
anyway he remained there in that same careless posture, a pleased smile
on his face, watching me curiously. The heavy nail-studded door swung
noiselessly ajar; with single questioning glance backward at the
motionless sentry, I stepped within, closed it behind me, and stood, my
heart throbbing fiercely, face to face with her husband--the man to
whom had been given the woman I loved,--Chevalier Charles de Noyan,
condemned to die at sunrise.
CHAPTER VII
THE CHEVALIER DE NOYAN
It seems strange any man should deliberately venture life for one he
had never seen; one whom, moreover, he hated with an intensity of
passion seldom experienced between man and man. I have not been of
revengeful disposition, nor often indulged in grave personal dislike,
yet it would be wrong in this simple narrative for me to attempt
concealment of my own impulses. So it is impossible to deny that, from
the first moment when she called Charles de Noyan husband, I felt
toward him a degree of animosity deeper than I had before supposed it
possible for me to entertain relative to any human being. It was
bitter memory of the past, a belief that I had once won the heart of
this fair girl, only to be balked of reward by spectral hands of
religion, which swayed me thus strongly. To my thought this stranger
was one who had purchased, from priests at the altar, what was mine by
divine decree; what would remain mine forever from the mandate of love
unchangeable, eternally sealed by higher power than any priestly ritual.
Yet I had already passed through a day and night of intense excitement,
of grave peril, endeavoring to preserve the life of this man whom I
would more gladly see die than any one I ever knew. I stood now in the
open jaws of my own destruction, where the slightest false movement, or
ill-judged word, upon his part or my own, must mean betrayal; where an
awakening of suspicion in the simple mind of the sentry without, or of
his captain in the corridor; the return to consciousness, or chance
discovery, of the bound priest upon the upper deck, would ruin every
hope, sentencing me to a fate no less speedy or certain than that which
now awaited him I sought to serve. All this had I risked that I might
aid in the escape of the one and only man in all the wide world who
stood between me and the woman I loved.
It was an odd position, a heartless caprice of fate. I felt the full
measure of its strangeness, yet the thought never occurred to me of
shrinking back from duty, nor slightest dream of realizing a personal
victory through any act of baseness. I was not there for his sake, or
my own, but to redeem my pledged word to her whose slightest wish was
law, whose pleading face forever rose before me. Nevertheless, as I
stood fronting him for the first time, there was little except bitter
hatred in my heart--hatred which, no doubt, burned for the instant
within my eyes,--but a hatred which never returned, to curse my memory,
from that day unto this. I may have found much to test my patience,
much to dislike about him in those weary weeks which followed, much of
weakness and of fickle spirit, but naught ever gave birth anew to the
deep resentment I buried there.
The room in which I found myself was long and narrow, dimly lighted by
an oil lamp screwed fast into a blackened beam overhead. Along one
side was the bare wall, unrelieved in its plain planking except for a
small cracked mirror and a highly colored picture of the Virgin in a
rude frame. Opposite, two berths were arranged one above the other,
both partially concealed by a dingy red curtain extending from ceiling
to floor. The only other furniture I noted in my hasty survey
consisted of a rough stool chair, and a huge iron-bound, wooden
sea-chest, the last so bulky as almost completely to block the narrow
space between the lower berth and the opposite wall. Seated upon the
stool, which was tilted back upon two legs, his shoulders resting
comfortably on a pillow pressed against the wall, his long limbs
extended in posture of supreme contentment and laziness, upon the
chest, was the man of my desperate search, the gallant soldier of
France, the leader of rebellion, condemned to die before the rifles
within four short hours.
I have never greatly feared death, have witnessed it often and in many
hideous forms, yet always believed it would test my nerves to the
uttermost to face it as a certainty under guard of enemies. Yet here
was one, young in years, strong of limb, vigorous of hope, with all the
joy of life just opening before him; a man of wealth, of fashion, and
of ease, who was seemingly awaiting the inevitable hour of his doom
with as calm indifference as if it meant no more than the pleasant
summons to a Creole ball. With one glance I made a mental picture of
him--a young, high-bred face, marred somewhat by dissipation and late
hours, yet beneath that dim light appearing almost boyishly fresh, and
bearing upon its every feature the plain impress of reckless humor, and
indolent content. It was the face of a youth rather than a man; of one
more accustomed to looking upon gay companions at the club than on the
horrors of a battlefield; one who could justly be expected to boast of
fair conquests, yet who might prove somewhat slow at drawing sword to
front a warrior of mettle, unless his blood were heated with wine.
Such were my first impressions, until I noted a certain manliness
imparted thereto by the heavy moustaches adorning the upper lip, almost
yellow in color, curled sharply upward, so heavily waxed at the ends as
nearly to reach the ears, or rather to lose themselves amid the
luxuriant growth of hair. This latter, of the same unusual tinge,
swept low over the shoulders, and was trimmed squarely across the
forehead according to a fashion then prevalent among young French
cavaliers. His dress was not a uniform, but that of the latest mode in
the province, somewhat exaggerated, I thought, as to length of the
bronze shoes and glaring color of the waistcoat. All these details I
noted, as he turned somewhat indolently in my direction, calmly
flipping the ash from off a cigarette, and permitting a spiral of thin
blue smoke to curl slowly upward from his lips into the air.
"So it is you, you miserable, drunken reprobate!" he exclaimed, a touch
of temper tingling in a voice I felt must naturally be soft and low.
"Have you dared come back to pester me with your abominable
consolations? Sacre! did I not bid you this afternoon to let me alone?
I care nothing for your tipsy paternosters. Faith, man, it will be
pleasanter to face that firing squad to-morrow than your drunken
prayers to-night. Come, get out of the room before I lay unregenerate
hands upon your shaven poll. I am but giving you fair warning, priest,
for I am quick of blow when my blood is heated, nor care I greatly for
the curses of Mother Church."
I stepped quickly forward, coming as directly before him as the great
sea-chest would permit, fearful lest his loud words might be
distinguishable beyond the closed door. Then, with silent gesture of
warning, I flung aside the heavy cowl which had concealed my features.
"You, I presume, are Charles de Noyan," I said gravely. "I am not
Father Cassati, nor drunken priest of any Order of Holy Church."
The prisoner was thoroughly astounded. This I could perceive by the
sudden gleam leaping into his eyes, but that he retained marvellous
control over every muscle was abundantly proven by the fact that no
change of attitude, or of voice, gave slightest evidence of emotion.
"Well, Mother of God preserve me!" he exclaimed, with a short, reckless
laugh. "'Tis some small comfort to know even that much. Yet may I
politely inquire who the devil you are, to invade thus coolly the
bedchamber of a gentleman, without so much as asking leave, at this
unholy hour of the morning? _Pardieu_, man, are you aware that this is
the last night on earth I have?"
He was staring at me through blue rings of tobacco smoke, very much as
one might observe some peculiar animal seen for the first time.
"Had it been otherwise you might rest assured I should never have
troubled you," I replied, some constraint in my voice, his boyish
bravado of speech rasping harshly upon my nerves. "But time presses,
Chevalier; there remains small space for useless exchange of
compliment, nor does indifference appear becoming to those in such
grave peril as you and I."
"_Sacre_! are you also one of us? Surely, I have no recollection of
your face."
"I am one in so far as I now face the same fate at the hands of the
Spaniards, although, it is true, I had no part in your uprising. I am
not of your race."
He laughed easily, passing one slender, white hand carelessly through
his long hair.
"Pah! you scarcely need tell me that, for the taste of the French
tongue seems ill-suited to your lips. Yet I would have you speak out
more plainly! I play not easily into the hands of strangers."
"Why not? You could hardly be worse off than you are now."
"_Pardieu_! you are not so far wrong in your philosophy, friend. Still
I stick to my text, and if you care to hold further speech with me it
will be well to declare yourself. I have ever been a bit careful as to
my associates."
"It makes small odds, Chevalier, who I am; nor will it greatly aid you
to learn my name, which is plain Geoffrey Benteen, without even a
handle of any kind to it, nor repute, save that of an honest hunter
along the upper river. I say who I am makes small odds, for I come not
with application for membership into your social circle, nor with card
of introduction from some mutual friend."
His expressive eyebrows uplifted in surprise.
"Then, Monsieur, pray relieve my natural curiosity, and tell me why I
am thus honored by your presence?"
"To aid your escape from this hole, God willing. That is, provided you
rouse up from lethargy, and bear your part as becomes a man."
I spoke with heat, for his indifference irritated me; yet I failed to
note that my words made the slightest impression on him, for I did
merely mark a slight shrugging of the shoulders, while he crossed his
legs more comfortably, rolling some fresh tobacco, before he took
trouble to reply.
"You are evidently of a choleric temper, friend Benteen. Great
Heavens, what names have you English!" he exclaimed. "And you need
greatly to practise better control over yourself, as such weakness is
apt to lead one into just such scrapes as this of ours. _Sacre_! it
hath been my failing also, otherwise would I now be a fat Major of the
Line instead of a poor devil condemned to the volley, for no worse
crime than an over-hot head. But seriously, Monsieur, and I am truly
of a most grave disposition, it is not so easy to accomplish that which
you propose with so glib a tongue. Imagine you I have lain here, under
tender Spanish care, all these weeks, where, as I do most solemnly
affirm, not so much as a glass of decent wine has found way down my
throat, nor have I possessed a bit of pomade for the proper arrangement
of my locks--which will account for their present dishevelment--Saint
Cecilia! but that moon-faced Moor who commands the guard merely laughed
at me when I did request a comb;--think you, I say, I have been through
all this without calculating chances for escape? But, _pardieu_! what
use? A man of sense will not dream such fool dreams. This I know,
there are three sentries yonder in the passageway, a good dozen more
under arms in the guard-room beyond, with still others vigilantly
pacing the deck above. What use, I say, for did not poor Villere try
it, and, before he had covered twenty feet, had three bullets in his
brain? Nay, Master Benteen, to endeavor running such a gantlet would
only give me my fill of Spanish lead before the hour set, which, they
tell me, comes with the sunrise."
He arose languidly to his feet, paused a moment in front of the cracked
mirror to recurl his long moustaches, and then, turning about, extended
a white hand toward me, smiling pleasantly as he did so.
"Faith, I fear I shall not look my best when it is all over, but if so
it will be the fault of the Dons--they seem most careless as to
requirements of the toilet. Yet I would not have you deem me
ungrateful, and I thank you heartily, Monsieur. But if it be my turn
to die, and I doubt it not,--for who ever heard of mercy in the black
heart of a Spaniard?--then it is best I front it as becomes a gentleman
of France, not with a bullet in my back, as though I fled from fate
with the faint heart of a coward. Nay, good friend, if death is to be
my portion, I prefer meeting it with a smile, and thus prove, at the
ending, worthy of my race."
There was a certain dignified manliness in his speech and manner which
for the moment caused me to doubt my earlier reading of his character.
There might be steel beneath the velvet glove of this fair courtier.
"Do you mean you deliberately choose to remain here, rather than accept
the chance I offer you?"
"Sacre! I have as yet heard of no chance," he replied easily, sinking
indolently back into his old seat against the wall. "I shall be fairly
comfortable here for the while, though I must say I have used a better
grade of tobacco than this furnished me."
For the moment I was in despair as to the outcome of my mission, nor
did I accept the proffered hand of the prisoner. Here was a totally
different order of man from what had ever come my way before, nor did I
know how best to meet him. How much of his vain and reckless speech
came from the heart, and how much of it was merely a mask with which to
test my purpose, I could not determine, yet I remained resolute
regarding my own duty, and accordingly sat coolly down upon the chest,
determined to play out his own game with him to the bitter end.
"Quite true, Chevalier," I said, smiling pleasantly, as if I entered
fully into his reckless spirit. "Doubtless you are right--needs must
when the devil drives. Could you spare me a morsel of that same
tobacco, until I test the quality of which you complain?" I produced a
pipe from the recesses of my monk's habit, knocking the ashes out
carelessly against the chest.
He passed over his pouch in silence.
"When one resteth between His Satanic Majesty and the deep sea it makes
small odds at the best which direction he turns. It becomes merely a
matter of taste. Death," I continued musingly as I deliberately rammed
home a charge into the bowl, "must be about the same to one man as to
another, except for matter of temperament; so if you can afford to sit
here and welcome its coming, so can I."
"Do you mean you are sufficiently crazy to remain deliberately and die
with me?"
"Certainly. I pledged your devoted wife I would rescue you, or never
return alive myself. As you stubbornly refuse to listen to reason,
this seems to be all that is left me. Opinions might differ as to
which was crazed, but as to that we will probably neither of us ever
know. May I trouble you for a light?"
I leaned forward, coolly helping myself to the burning cigarette he
held forth doubtingly between his fingers, and, puffing vigorously,
silently resumed my seat.
"My wife, say you?" A fresh interest appeared to sweep over him at the
word, overcoming his indifference. "Did Eloise de Noyan send you here
seeking to succor me?"
"It was at her request I came; at her wish I stay," I answered firmly.
"You knew her?"
"Several years since, when she was scarcely more than a girl; yet she
retained sufficient faith to call upon me in extremity."
He sat staring at me as if he would like to question further.
"The Lord love us, you are a cool fish," he finally exclaimed, bringing
his hand down upon his knee, and speaking with fresh animation in his
soft voice. "What is more, I rather like you. So Eloise really wishes
me to desert the Dons? Queer choice that, for she would make a lovely
widow. Oh, well, what's the odds? 'Tis only the question of a ball in
the back to-night, or a ball in the front to-morrow. If you chance to
have a tuck ready for my hand, friend, I 'll try a dash at the deck
just for the sport of it."
I shook my head emphatically.
"We will attempt passage without flashing of weapons, or not at all. I
grant a quick stroke might win us the open, yet would only serve to
rouse the ship; neither of us would ever lift head above the river
surface without a bullet in the brain."
"It is the only way fit for a gentleman."
"Confound your gentlemen!" I cried, now thoroughly aroused at this
ill-chosen trifling with time. "Either you do as I bid you, or else we
settle down without any more ado, to wait the file to-morrow. How
often does the Commandant look in?"
"On the stroke of the ship's bell."
"Then, Monsieur, the sooner you arrive at some decision the better. If
indifference is your game, I play it out with you to the end." As I
spoke I leaned carelessly back against the lower bunk, puffing away at
my pipe to get it fairly alight once more.
I could note from the corner of my eye he was watching me closely, and
with no slight degree of aroused interest, but I would have rested
there without further speech until the guard came, had he not first
broken silence.
"And she sent you?"
"So I said."
"To me, not Lafreniere, her father?"
"There was a possible chance to save one, not two."
"_Sacre_! yes, I understand that; yet it doth puzzle me why she should
have chosen as she did. Know you just why it was De Noyan instead of
Lafreniere?"
"Madame selected me for action, not advice," I answered shortly, now
thoroughly tired of his questioning. "Lafreniere, I understood,
positively refused opportunity to escape, from scruples of conscience.
Besides, the father must be near the end of his days, while you were
yet young, with long life before you. No doubt this also had weight
with her decision. As for myself I sincerely wish it might have been
some other, so I could have brought my aid to a man of sense."
He rose up, shrugging his shoulders.
"You are not especially choice in speech, yet your purpose harmonizes
somewhat with my present humor. I will risk the effort; so now tell me
your plan?"
I permitted no sign of pleasure at his decision to appear in my face.
"I did intend dressing you in this cassock so you might play priest,
and slip safely past the guard beneath its gray cover," I said quietly.
"I purposed remaining behind, arranging for myself as best I might; but
now that we have met, to be perfectly frank about it, I retain no
confidence in your discretion which will warrant the risk. I therefore
decide we had better abide together until this venture be done."
He smiled, apparently in rare good humor at my words.
"No doubt it will prove best, my friend. Your wider knowledge should
supplement my boyish enthusiasm," he responded with mocking bow. "I
rather suspect, from outward appearance, you may be some years my
junior, yet in life experience I readily yield you the palm. So lead
on, most noble Captain; from henceforth command me as your devoted
follower. And now, your excellency, I trust you will pardon if I
venture the inquiry, what would you have your humble servant do?"
I permitted him to ramble along as he pleased. Now I had won his
pledge I cared little for the nature of his raillery. While he talked
I flung open the great chest upon which I had been sitting, and
discovering it packed with clothing, hastily dragged the various
articles forth, flinging them into the lower berth, covering the pile
with blankets in such a manner that they resembled the sleeping figure
of a man. Then I turned toward him.
"My first order, Monsieur, is that you get in here."
"_Sacre_! not I--"
There came a quick, firm footstep sounding along the passageway
without; then a hand fell heavily upon the latch of the door.
CHAPTER VIII
FAVORED OF THE GODS
It seemed as if my heart must choke me at sound of those steady
footsteps approaching down the passageway. I heard the sharp click of
a gun-barrel in the sentry's hand as he presented arms, then the noise
of the uplifting latch, yet remained so paralyzed by the suddenness of
it as to be fairly helpless, unable to move from my position. De Noyan
merely smiled lazily, as though this new act formed part of the play,
beginning calmly to roll another cigarette.
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