At the end of this narrow hall a window looked almost directly out upon the circular, brick dove-cote, now an indistinct outline, and on both sides were doors, one of which she was vainly endeavoring to open when he approached. Immediately she desisted in her efforts; flushed and panting, she stood in the dim light of the pa.s.sage. Quiet, unbroken save for the cooing in the cote, had succeeded the first noisy demonstration; the anti-renters were evidently arranging their forces to prevent the land baron's escape or planning an a.s.sault on the manor.

In his momentary satisfaction at finding her, Mauville overlooked the near prospect of a more lengthy, if not final, separation, and surveyed the young girl with a sudden, swift joyousness, but the fear and distrust written on her features dissipated his concern for her; his best impulses were smothered by harsher feelings.

"Unfortunately, the door is locked," he said, ironically. "Meanwhile, as this spot has no strategic advantages, suppose we change our base of defense?"

Realizing how futile would be resistance, she accompanied him once more to the chamber in the wing, where he had determined to make his last defense. After closing and locking the door, he lighted one of many candles on the mantel. The uncertain glow from the great candelabra, covered with dust, like the white marble itself, and evidently placed there many years before, revealed faded decorations and a ceiling, water-stained as from a defective roof. Between the windows, with flowery gilt details, an ancient mirror extended from floor to ceiling. A musty smell pervaded the apartment, for Mynheer, the Patroon, had lived so closely to himself that he had shut out both air and sunlight from his rooms.

The flickering glare fell upon the young actress standing, hand upon her heart, listening with bated breath, and Mauville, with ominous expression, brooding over that chance which sent the lease-holders to the manor on that night of nights. It was intolerable that no sooner had she crossed his threshold than they should appear, ripe for any mischief, not only seeking his life, but wresting happiness from his very lips. For, of the outcome he could have little doubt, although determined to sell dearly that which they sought.

The violent crash of a heavy body at the front of the house and a tumult of voices on the porch, succeeded by a din in the hall, announced that the first barrier had been overcome and the anti-renters were in possession of the lower floor of the manor. Mauville had started toward the door, when the antic.i.p.ation in the young girl's eyes held him to the spot. Inaccessible, she was the more desired; her reserve was fuel to his flame, and, at that moment, while his life hung in the balance, he forgot the rebuff he had received and how she had nearly played upon him.

Words fell from his lips, unpremeditated, eloquent, voicing those desires which had grown in the solitude of the manor. Pa.s.sionately he addressed her, knowing the climax to his difficulties was at hand.

Once near her, he could not be at peace without her, he vowed, and this outcome had been inevitable. All this he uttered impetuously, at times incoherently, but as he concluded, she only clasped her hands helplessly, solely conscious of the uproar below which spread from the main hall to the adjoining rooms.

"They are coming--they are coming!" she said, and Mauville stopped short.

But while anger and resentment were at strife within him, some one tried the door of the chamber and finding it locked, set up a shout.

Immediately the prowlers in the wings, the searchers in the kitchen and all the stragglers below congregated in the main hall; footsteps were heard ascending rapidly, pausing in doubt at the head of the stairway, not knowing whether to turn to the right or to the left.

"Here they are!" called out the man at the door.

"You meddlesome fool!" exclaimed Mauville, lifting a revolver and discharging it in the direction of the voice. Evidently the bullet, pa.s.sing through the panel of the door, found its mark, for the report was followed by a cry of pain.

This plaint was answered from the distance and soon a number of anti-renters hastened to the spot. Mauville, in vicious humor, moved toward the threshold. One of the panels was already broken and an arm thrust into the opening. The land baron bent forward and coolly clapped his weapon to the member, the loud discharge being succeeded by a howl from the wounded lease-holder. Mauville again raised his weapon when an exclamation from the actress caused him to turn quickly, in time to see a figure spring unexpectedly into the room from the balcony. The land baron stood in amazement, eying the intruder who had appeared so suddenly from an unguarded quarter, but before he could recover his self-possession, his hand was struck heavily and the revolver fell with a clatter to the floor.

His a.s.sailant quickly grasped the weapon, presenting it to the breast of the surprised land-owner, who looked, not into the face of an unknown anti-renter, but into the stern, familiar countenance of Saint-Prosper.

CHAPTER XV

A HASTY EXIT

The afternoon following the soldier's departure from the patroon village went by all too slowly, his jaded horse's feet as heavy as the leaden moments. That he had not long since overtaken the coach was inexplicable, unless Susan had been a most tardy messenger. True, at the fork of the road he had been misled, but should before this have regained what he had lost, unless he was once more on the wrong thoroughfare. As night fell, the vastness of the new world impressed the soldier as never before; not a creature had he met since leaving the patroon village; she whom he sought might have been swallowed up in the immensity of the wilderness. For the first time his task seemed as if it might be to no purpose; his confidence of the morning had gradually been replaced by consuming anxiety. He reproached himself that he had not pressed his inquiries further at the patroon village, but realized it was now too late for regrets; go on he must and should.

Along the darkening road horse and rider continued their way. Only at times the young man pulled at the reins sharply, as the animal stumbled from sheer weariness. With one hand he stroked encouragingly the foam-flecked arch of the horse's neck; the other, holding the reins, was clenched like a steel glove. Leaving the brow of a hill, the horseman expectantly fixed his gaze ahead, when suddenly on his right, a side thoroughfare lay before him. As he drew rein indecisively at the turn, peering before him through the gathering darkness, a voice from the trees called out unexpectedly:

"Hitch up in here!"

At this peremptory summons the soldier gazed quickly in the direction of the speaker. Through the grove, where the trees were so slender and spa.r.s.ely planted the eye could penetrate the thicket, he saw a band of hors.e.m.e.n dismounting and tying their animals. There was something unreal, grotesque even, in their appearance, but it was not until one of their number stepped from the shadow of the trees into the clearer light of the road that he discerned their head-dress and garb to be that of Indians. Recalling all he had heard of the masquerading, marauding excursions of the anti-renters, the soldier at once concluded he had encountered a party of them, bent upon some nefarious expedition. That he was taken for one of their number seemed equally evident.

"Come!" called out the voice again, impatiently. "The patroon is at the manor with his city trollop. It's time we were moving."

An exclamation fell from the soldier's lips. The patroon!--his ill-disguised admiration for the actress!--his abrupt reappearance the night of the temperance drama! Any uncertainty Saint-Prosper might have felt regarding the ident.i.ty of him he sought, or the reason for that day's work, now became compelling cert.i.tude. But for the tenants, he might have ridden by the old patroon house. As it was, congratulating himself upon this accidental meeting rather than his own shrewdness, he quickly dismounted. A moment's thought, and he followed the lease-holders.

In the attack on the manor, his purpose, apart from theirs, led him to antic.i.p.ate the general movement of the anti-renters in front of the house and to make his way alone, aided by fortuitous circ.u.mstances, to the room where the land baron had taken refuge. As he sprang into this chamber the young girl's exclamation of fear was but the prelude to an expression of gladness, while Mauville's consternation when he found himself disarmed and powerless, was as great as his surprise. For a moment, therefore, in his bearing bravado was tempered with hesitancy.

"You here?" stammered the land baron, as he involuntarily recoiled from his own weapon.

The soldier contemptuously thrust the revolver into his pocket. "As you see," he said coldly, "and in a moment, they"--indicating the door--"will be here!"

"You think to turn me over to them!" exclaimed the other violently.

"But you do not know me! This is no quarrel of yours. Give me my weapon, and let me fight it out with them!"

The soldier's glance rested for a moment on the young girl and his face grew stern and menacing.

"By heaven, I am half-minded to take you at your word! But you shall have one chance--a slender one! There is the window; it opens on the portico!"

"And if I refuse?"

"They have brought a rope with them. Go, or hang!"

The heir hesitated, but as he pondered, the anti-renters were effectually shattering the heavy door, regaling themselves with threats taught them by the politicians who had advocated their cause on the stump, preached it in the legislature, or grown eloquent over it in the const.i.tutional a.s.sembly.

"The serfs are here! The drawers of water and hewers of wood have arisen! Hang the land baron! Hang the feudal lord!"

A braver man than Mauville might have been cowed by that chorus. But after pausing irresolutely, weighing the chances of life and death, gazing jealously upon the face of the apprehensive girl, and venomously at the intruder, the heir finally made a virtue of necessity and strode to the window. With conflicting emotions struggling in his mind--fury toward the lease-holders, hatred for the impa.s.sive mediator--he yet regained, in a measure, an outwardly calm bearing.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"It's a poor alternative," he said, shortly, flashing a last glance at the actress. "But it's the best that offers!"

So saying, he sprang upon the balcony--none too soon, for a moment later the door burst open and an incongruous element rushed into the room. Many were attired in outlandish head-dresses, embroidered moccasins and fringed jackets, their faces painted in various hues, but others, of a bolder spirit, had disdained all subterfuge of disguise. Not until then did the soldier discover that he had overlooked the possible unpleasantness of remaining in the land baron's stead, for the anti-renters promptly threw themselves upon him, regardless of his companion. The first to grapple with him was a herculean, thick-ribbed man, of extraordinary stature, taller than the soldier, if not so well-knit; a Goliath, indeed, as Scroggs had deemed him, with arms long as windmills.

"Stand back, lads," he roared, "and let me throw him!" And d.i.c.k, the tollman, rushed at Saint-Prosper with furious attack; soon they were chest to chest, each with his chin on his opponent's right shoulder, and each grasping the other around the body with joined hands.

d.i.c.k's muscles grew taut, like mighty whip-cords; his chest expanded with power; he girded his loins for a great effort, and it seemed as if he would make good his boast. Held in the grasp of those arms, tight as iron bands, the soldier staggered. Once more the other heaved and again Saint-Prosper nearly fell, his superior agility alone saving him.

Then slowly, almost imperceptibly, the soldier managed to face to the right, twisting so as to place his left hip against his adversary--his only chance; a trick of wrestling unknown to his herculean, but clumsy opponent. Gathering all his strength in a last determined effort, he stooped forward suddenly and lifted in his turn. One portentous moment--a moment of doubt and suspense--and the proud representative of the barn-burners was hurled over the shoulder of the soldier, landing with a crash on the floor where he lay, dazed and immovable.

Breathing hard, his chest rising and falling with labored effort, Saint-Prosper fell back against the wall. The anti-renters quickly recovering from their surprise, gave him no time to regain his strength, and the contest promised a speedy and disastrous conclusion for the soldier, when suddenly a white figure flashed before him, confronting the tenants with pale face and shining eyes. A slender obstacle; only a girlish form, yet the fearlessness of her manner, the eloquence of her glance--for her lips were silent!--kept them back for the instant.

But fiercer pa.s.sions were at work among them, the desire for retaliation and bitter hatred of the patroon, which speedily dissipated any feeling of compunction or any tendency to waver,

"Kill him before his lady love!" cried a piercing voice from behind.

"Did they not murder my husband before me? Kill him, if you are men!"

And pressing irresistibly to the front appeared the woman whose husband had been shot by the deputies. Her features, once soft and matronly, flamed with uncontrollable pa.s.sions.

"Are only the poor to suffer?" she continued, as her, burning eyes fell on the young girl. "Shall she not feel what I did?"

"Back woman!" exclaimed one of the barn-burners, sternly. "This is no place for you."

"Who has a better right to be here?" retorted the woman.

"But this is not woman's work!"