Every window was dark. There must be light inside, but shutters were
closed. His heart throbbed with intense gratitude to Weber. Without him
escape would have been impossible. He would make his way to the French.
He would find Lannes and together in some way they would rescue Julie,
Julie so young and so beautiful, held in the castle of the medieval
baron. In the lowering shadows the house became a castle and Auersperg
had always been of the Middle Ages.
The wind freshened and a few drops of rain struck his face. He stood
boldly erect now, unafraid of observation, and picked a way through the
mass of broken glass and overturned shrubbery toward the end of the
conservatory, seeing beyond it a gleam of water which must be the big
fishpond.
He turned to the left and reached the edge of the pond just as four
figures stepped from the dusk, their raised rifles pointing at him. The
shock was so great that, driven by some unknown but saving impulse, he
threw himself forward into the water just as the soldiers fired. He
heard the four rifles roaring together. Then he swam below water to the
far edge of the pond and came up under the shelter of its circling
shrubbery, raising above its surface only enough of his face for breath.
As his eyes cleared he saw the four soldiers standing at the far edge of
the pond, looking at the water. Doubtless they were waiting for his
body to reappear, as his action, half fall, half spring, and the roaring
of the rifles had been so close together that they seemed a blended
movement.
Pages:
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301