In the Irish Brigade: A Tale of War in Flanders and Spain

"I suppose it would be," Desmond agreed, "though, for my part, I should be heartily glad if I never heard another word about it."

"You are too modest altogether, Kennedy. Whatever rumours may be current, concerning the young lady, there can be no doubt that you come out splendidly, in that you hear a cry of a woman in distress; you scale walls to get in to her assistance; you and your servant encounter five of her guards, kill four of them and bind the other; rescue the maiden, and carry her off, with flying colours, in the carriage of her abductor. My dear Kennedy, you will become an object of admiration to all the ladies of the court."

"That will be absolutely disgusting," Desmond said, angrily. "It is almost enough to make one wish that one had never interfered in the affair."

"Pooh, pooh, Kennedy! I am sure that either O'Sullivan or myself would give, I was going to say a year's pay, though how one would exist without it I don't know, to have been in your place. Why, man, if you had captured a standard in battle, after feats of superhuman bravery, you would not attract half the attention that will fall to you as a consequence of this adventure. Life in the court of His Most Christian Majesty is one of the most artificial possible. The women hide their faces with powder and patches, lace themselves until they are ready to faint, walk with a mincing air, and live chiefly upon scandal; but they are women, after all, and every woman has a spice of romance in her nature, and such an adventure as yours is the very thing to excite their admiration."

"I know nothing about women," Desmond growled, "and don't want to know any of them, especially the ladies at the court of Louis."

"Well, of course, Kennedy, if the baron proclaims his wrongs, and publishes the circumstances of his daughter's abduction and rescue, the seal of silence will be taken from our lips; especially as you will, almost to a certainty, be summoned to Versailles to confirm the lady's story."

"I am afraid that that will be so," Desmond said, despondingly. "However, it can't be helped, and I suppose one must make the best of it."

To most of the officers who dropped in, in the course of the day, to see Desmond and to enquire how he got his wound, he abstained from giving any particulars. It was merely said that he and Callaghan were suddenly attacked, by five ruffians, whom they managed to beat off. Much surprise was expressed that such attack should be made upon an officer and a soldier, on whom little plunder could be expected, and who would be sure to defend themselves stoutly. Several, indeed, expressed some incredulity.

"We do not doubt for a moment, Kennedy, that you were attacked by five men, as you say, and that you routed them, but there must have been some motive for the attack. These evening strolls of yours are suspicious, and I will warrant that there must have been a great deal at the bottom of it. Now, can you deny that?"

"I neither admit nor deny anything," Desmond said, with a smile; "enough that, at present, I have told you all that I feel justified in telling. I acknowledge that there is more behind it, but at present my mouth is sealed on the subject."

The colonel was among those who came in to see him. To him, Desmond said frankly that the affair was altogether out of the common, that it was likely that the whole facts would be known shortly, but that, as other persons were concerned, he could not speak of it until he had obtained their permission.

"Then I will ask no further," Colonel O'Brien said. "I have seen enough of you to know that you would not be concerned in any affair that could bring discredit upon the corps. I am curious to know the whole story, but am quite content to wait until you feel at liberty to tell me."

The next morning, Desmond took part in the usual work of the regiment, and then, mounting his horse, rode to Versailles. On his ringing the bell at the house occupied by the Baron de Pointdexter, the old servitor, whom he had before seen, opened the gate.

"The baron is expecting you, monsieur," he said, bowing deeply; and, at his call, another servant ran out and took Desmond's horse, and led it away to the stable, while Desmond followed the old man to the house.

The door opened as they approached, and the baron, a tall man, some fifty years of age, advanced hastily, holding out both hands.

"Monsieur Kennedy," he said, "you have rendered to me the greatest service that I have received during my life. No words can express the gratitude that I feel, for one who has restored to me my only child, just when I had come to believe that she was lost to me forever. It was surely her guardian saint who sent you to the spot, at that moment."

"It might have happened to anyone, sir," Desmond said; "surely any gentleman, on hearing an appeal for help from a woman in distress, would have done just what I did."

"Let us go in," the baron said. "My daughter has been eagerly waiting your coming, especially as she tells me that she does not think she said even a word of thanks to you, being overpowered by what she had gone through, and by her joy at her sudden and unexpected deliverance. Indeed, she says that she scarcely exchanged two words with you."

"There was no opportunity, Baron, for indeed, as soon as she told me that there was a carriage and horses in the stable, I was too much occupied in getting it ready for her to depart without delay, to think of talking."

They had now entered the house, and, as the baron led the way into the sitting room, the girl rose from a fauteuil.

"This, Monsieur Kennedy, is my daughter, Mademoiselle Anne de Pointdexter. It is high time that you were formally presented to each other.

"This, Anne, is the officer who rendered you such invaluable service."

"We meet almost as strangers, mademoiselle," Desmond said, deeply bowing, "for I own that I saw so little of your face, the other night, that I should hardly have recognized you, had I met you elsewhere."

"I should certainly not have recognized you, Monsieur Kennedy. What with my own fright, and, I may say, the condition of your face, I had but a faint idea of what you were really like; but I certainly did not think that you were so young. You had such a masterful way with you, and seemed to know so perfectly what ought to be done, that I took you to be much older than you now look."

"I joined the regiment but little more than three months ago," Desmond said, "and am its youngest ensign."

"Monsieur, I owe to you more than my life, for, had it not been for you, I should have been forced into marriage with one whom I despise."

"I cannot think that, mademoiselle. From what I saw of you, I should say that you would have resisted all threats, and even undergone hopeless imprisonment, rather than yield."

"There is no saying, Monsieur Kennedy," the baron said. "Anne is of good blood, and I know that it would have been hard to break down her will, but confinement and hopelessness will tell on the bravest spirit. However that may be, she and I are your debtors for life."

"Indeed, Monsieur Kennedy," the girl said, "I pray you to believe that I am more grateful to you than words can express."

"I pray you to say no more about it, mademoiselle. I deem it a most fortunate circumstance, that I was able to come to your assistance, and especially so, when I found that the lady I had rescued was one whose disappearance had made so great a stir; but I should have been glad to render such service to one in the poorest condition."

"My daughter said that you asked her no questions, Monsieur Kennedy, and you therefore are, I suppose, in ignorance of the name of her abductor?"

"Altogether."

"It was the Vicomte de Tulle, one who stands very high in the regard of the king, and who is one of the most extravagant and dissipated, even of the courtiers here. For some time, it has been reported that he had nigh ruined himself by his lavish expenditure, and doubtless he thought to reestablish his finances by this bold stroke.

"His plans were well laid. He waited until I had gone to Paris on business that would keep me there for a day or two. A messenger arrived with a letter, purporting to be from me, saying that I wished my daughter to join me at once, and had sent a carriage to take her to me. Anne is young, and, suspecting no harm, at once threw on a mantle and hood, and entered the carriage. It was broad daylight, and there was nothing to disquiet her until, on approaching the town, the carriage turned off the main road. This struck her as strange, and she was just about to ask the question where she was being taken, when the carriage stopped in a lonely spot, the door was opened, and a man stepped in.

"Before she had even time to recognize him, he threw a thick cloak over her head. She struggled in vain to free herself, but he held her fast. Again and again, she tried to cry out, but her mouth was muffled by the wrapping. She had heard the blinds of the carriage drawn, and finding that her struggles to free herself were vain, and receiving no answer to her supplications to be released, she remained quiet until the carriage stopped. Then she was lifted out, and carried into the house where you found her.

"The wrapping was removed, and the man who had taken it off, and, who by his attire, was a gentleman in the service of some noble, said, 'Do not be alarmed, mademoiselle. No harm is intended to you. My master is grieved to be obliged to adopt such means, but his passion for you is so great that he was driven to this step, and it will entirely depend upon yourself when your captivity will end.'

"'Your master, whoever he may be,' Anne said, 'is a contemptible villain.'

"'Naturally, you have a poor opinion of him at present,' the fellow said; 'but I am convinced that, in time, you will come to excuse his fault. It is wholly due to the depth of the feeling that he entertains towards you. There is a woman here who will wait upon you. I and my men will not intrude. Our duty is solely to see that you do not escape, which indeed would be an impossibility for you, seeing that the wall that surrounds the garden is well-nigh fifteen feet high, and the gate barred and locked, and the key thereof in my pocket.'

"He called, and the old woman whom you brought here with Anne entered, and bid her ascend to the room that had been prepared for her.

"In that respect, she had nothing to complain of. Of course, you did not notice it, as you had other things to think of, but it was handsomely furnished. There was a bed in an alcove, some flowers on the table, some books, and even a harpsichord–evidently it was intended that her imprisonment should be made as light as might be.

"Looking from the window, Anne saw that the room was at the back of the house, and had probably been chosen because some trees shut the window off from view of anyone beyond the wall. The next day, the old woman announced the Vicomte de Tulle. He bowed profoundly, and began by excusing the step that he had taken, and crediting it solely to the passion that he had conceived for her. You may imagine the scorn and reproaches with which she answered him. He was quite unmoved by her words.

"'Mademoiselle,' he said calmly, when she paused, 'you may be sure that I should not have undertaken this scheme, unless I had fully weighed the consequences. My plans have been so laid that whatever search may be made for you will be in vain. Here you are, and here you will remain until you listen to my suit. Every want shall be satisfied, and every wish complied with; but, whether it is one year or five, you will not leave this house until you leave it as my bride.'

"'Then, sir,' she said passionately, 'I shall be a prisoner for life.'

"'So you may think, at present, mademoiselle,' he said. 'And I expected nothing else. But, with time and reflection, you may come to think otherwise. Union with me is not so terrible a matter. My rank you know, and standing high, as I do, in the favour of His Most Gracious Majesty, your position at court will be such as might gratify the daughter of the noblest family in France. The study of my life will be to make you happy.

"'I shall now leave you to think over the matter. I shall not pester you with my attentions, and for another month you will not see me again. At the end of that time, I trust that you will have seen the futility of condemning yourself to further captivity, and will be disposed to make more allowance, than at present, for the step to which my passion for yourself has driven me.'

"It was just a month since she had been carried off, and, the very day when you rescued her, the old woman had informed her that the vicomte would do himself the pleasure of calling upon her the next day. For the first fortnight she had held up bravely, in the hope that I should discover the place where she had been hidden. Then she began to feel the imprisonment and silence telling upon her, for the old woman only entered to bring in her meals, and never opened her lips, except on the first occasion, when she told her that she was strictly forbidden to converse with her. After that she began to despair, and the news that her abductor would visit her, the next day, decided her to make an attempt to escape. She had no difficulty in letting herself down from the window by the aid of her bedclothes, but she found that what had been said respecting the wall and gate was true, and that she was no nearer escape than she had been, before she had left her room. She was trying, in vain, to unbar the gate, which, indeed, would have been useless could she have accomplished it, as it was also locked. But she was striving, with the energy of desperation, when the door of the house opened, and the men rushed out and seized her. As they dragged her back to the house, she uttered the cries that brought you to her assistance. The rest you know.

"As soon as I heard her story, I went to the palace and asked for a private interview with the king. The king received me graciously enough, and asked, with an appearance of great interest, if I had obtained any news of my daughter.

"'I have more than obtained news, Your Majesty. I have my daughter back again, and I have come to demand justice at your hands.'

"'I congratulate you, indeed, Baron,' the king said, with an appearance of warmth, but I saw his colour change, and was convinced that he knew something, at least, of the matter.

"'And where has the damsel been hiding herself?' he went on.