The Light That Lures | Page 7

presently found Barrington at the frugal meal.
The landlord apologized for the frugality, but it was all he could do.
"May I never face less when I am hungry," said Barrington. "You saw this man to-day, landlord, you say?"
"Yes. I told you that four men cursed me and my wine. They had been here an hour or more, talking of what was going forward in Paris, and of some business which they were engaged upon. I took little note of what they said, for every one is full of important business in these days, monsieur, but the man who lies upstairs presently rode past. I saw him from this window, and my four guests saw him, too. They laughed and settled their score, and five minutes later had brought their horses from the stable behind the inn and were riding in the direction he had taken."
"And attacked him a little later, no doubt."
"It would seem so," said the landlord.
"Should they return, keep it a secret that you have a wounded man in the house. Will that purchase your silence?"
The landlord looked at the coins Barrington dropped into his hand.
"Thank you, monsieur, you may depend upon it that no one shall know."
Seth presently went to see the patient again, and returned in a few moments to say he was conscious.
"I told him where we found him, and he wants to see you, Master Richard."
"Your doctoring must be wonderfully efficacious, Seth."
"Brandy is a good medicine," was the answer; "but the man's in a bad way. He may quiet down after he's seen you."
The man moved slightly as Barrington entered the room, and when he spoke his words came slowly and in a whisper, yet with some eagerness.
"They left me for dead, monsieur; they were disturbed, perhaps."
"Why did they attack you?"
"I was carrying a message."
"A letter--and they stole it?" asked Barrington.
"No, a message. It was not safe to write."
"To whom was the message?"
"To a woman, my mistress, from her lover. He is in the hands of the rabble, and only she can save him. For the love of Heaven, monsieur, take the message to her. I cannot go."
"What is her name?" Barrington asked.
"Mademoiselle St. Clair."
"Certainly, she shall have it. How shall I make her understand?"
"Say Lucien prays her to come to Paris. In my coat yonder, in the lining of the collar, is a little gold star, her gift to him. Say Rouzet gave it to you because he could travel no farther. She will understand. You must go warily, and by an indirect road, or they will follow you as they did me."
"And where shall I find Mademoiselle St. Clair?"
"At the Chateau of Beauvais, hard by Lausanne, across the frontier."
"Lausanne! Switzerland!"
Before the man could give a word of further explanation there was a loud knocking at the door of the inn which the landlord had closed for the night, and when it was not opened immediately, angry curses and a threat to break it down. The patient on the bed did not start, he was too grievously hurt to do that, but his white face grew gray with fear.
"It is nothing, only a late traveler," said Barrington. "And, my good fellow, I cannot go to--"
The man's eyes were closed. The sudden fear seemed to have robbed him of consciousness. It was quite evident to Barrington that he could not be made to understand just now that a journey to Beauvais was impossible. He waited a few minutes to see if the man would rouse again, but he did not, and seeing that an explanation must be put off until later, he went out of the room, closing the door gently behind him. As he descended the stairs the landlord tiptoed up to meet him.
"The men who were here to-day and cursed my wine," he whispered. "Two of them have returned!"
CHAPTER II
A BINDING OATH
The return of these men, if indeed they were responsible for the condition of the man upstairs, might augur further evil for him. They had perchance returned along the road to make certain that their work was complete, and, finding their victim gone, were now in search of him. Exactly what reliance was to be placed on the word of the wounded man, Barrington had not yet determined. He might be a contemptible spy, his message might contain hidden information to the enemies of his country; he was certainly carrying it to aristocrats who were safe across the frontier, and he might fully deserve all the punishment which had been meted out to him, but for the moment he was unable to raise a hand in his own defense and his helplessness appealed to Barrington. These men should not have their will of him if he could prevent it.
"Keep out of the way of being questioned," he whispered to the landlord, as