When all was ready I commended the troop to Maignan's discretion,charging him in the event of anything happening to us to continue the most persistent efforts for mademoiselle's release,and on no account to abandon her.Having received his promise to this effect,and being satisfied that he would keep it,we took up each of us a great faggot,which being borne on the head and shoulders served to hide the features very effectually;and thus disguised we boldly left the shelter of the trees.Fanchette and I went first,tottering in a most natural fashion under the weight of our burdens,while M.d'Agen followed a hundred yards behind.I had given Maignan orders to make a dash for the gate the moment he saw the last named start to run.
The perfect stillness of the valley,the clearness of the air,and the absence of any sign of life in the castle before us--which might have been that of the Sleeping Princess,so fairy-like it looked against the sky--with the suspense and excitement in our own breasts,which these peculiarities seemed to increase a hundred-fold,made the time that followed one of the strangest in my experience.It was nearly ten o'clock,and the warm sunshine flooding everything about us rendered the ascent,laden as we were,laborious in the extreme.The crisp,short turf,which had scarcely got its spring growth,was slippery and treacherous.We dared not hasten,for we knew not what eyes were upon us,and we dared as little after we had gone half-way--lay our faggots down,lest the action should disclose too much of our features.
When we had reached a point within a hundred paces of the gate,which still remained obstinately closed,we stood to breathe ourselves,and balancing my bundle on my head,I turned to make sure that all was right behind us.I found that M.d'Agen,intent on keeping his distance,had chosen the same moment for rest,and was sitting in a very natural manner on his faggot,mopping his face with the sleeve of his jerkin.I scanned the brown leafless wood,in which we had left Maignan and our men;but I could detect no glitter among the trees nor any appearance likely to betray us.Satisfied on these points,I muttered a few words of encouragement to Fanchette,whose face was streaming with perspiration;and together we turned and addressed ourselves to our task,fatigue--for we had had no practice in carrying burdens on the head--enabling us to counterfeit the decrepitude of age almost to the life.
The same silence prevailing as we drew nearer inspired me with not a few doubts and misgivings.Even the bleat of a sheep would have been welcome in the midst of a stillness which seemed ominous.But no sheep bleated,no voice hailed us.The gate,ill-hung and full of fissures,remained closed.Step by step we staggered up to it,and at length reached it.Afraid to speak lest my accent should betray me,I struck the forepart of my faggot against it and waited:doubting whether our whole stratagem had not been perceived from the beginning,and a pistol-shot might not be the retort.
Nothing of the kind happened,however.The sound of the blow,which echoed dully through the building,died away,and the old silence resumed its sway.We knocked again,but fully two minutes elapsed before a grumbling voice,as of a man aroused from sleep,was heard drawing near,and footsteps came slowly and heavily to the gate.Probably the fellow inspected us through a loophole,for he paused a moment,and my heart sank;but the next,seeing nothing suspicious,he unbarred the gate with a querulous oath,and,pushing it open,bade us enter and be quick about it.
