CHAPTER XXI.
——————Let me be your servant:
————I will follow thee,
During the day our travellers continued to advance on their journey, and when towards evening they again stopped for the night, Alphonsus confessed himself so ill, as to be immediately obliged to retire to bed.
The exertions of body together with the coldness of the air on the night of his leaving Smaldart castle, in conjunction with the precipitate and violent changes from grief to joy which his mind had been lately undergoing, added to his endeavours for the last day and night of concealing that he was otherwise than well, in order to expedite their journey, and the safety of his Lauretta's father, had reduced him to a state of great danger; his fever was returning with increased violence, and with less strength on his part to combat against its attacks.
Such medical assistance as the village afforded, count Byroff made it his immediate business to procure: Lauretta and her father watched over him during the night, and the morning brought with it increased symptoms of danger.
Till the fifth day the violence of his fever had abated only for short intervals, and the physician had given but slender hopes of his recovery: he now pronounced his patient free from danger, at the same time warning the count and Lauretta, against any indulgence which might endanger a relapse.
Lauretta had hitherto been the constant nurse of her husband, insomuch that count Byroff, moved by her entreaties to suffer her to remain with him she most loved, had, with no little alarm for her own safety, now seen her pass five nights without sleep, and an equal number of days without having retired above two hours together from her husband's chamber, which she had always passed rather in prayers for his amendment, than in attempts to enjoy that repose of which she stood so much in need for the preservation of her own health. On the pleasing change however in the fate of Alphonsus, he had rather commanded than prevailed with her to retire regularly for the night, having promised to be himself the nurse of Alphonsus during her slumbers; and if any material change took place in him, to bring her immediate intelligence of it.
Lauretta had not been long retired, when Alphonsus requiring some drink which was preparing by the hostess, the count went down to fetch it: as he was descending the stairs, he heard a confused noise of talking and laughing, which ceasing at momentary intervals, rendered audible the voice of a person whose lamentations seemed to produce the laughter of the hearers, and the words,"que le diable m'emporte, if I would not give all I am worth to be dead," followed by an ill restrained cry of the speaker, and a laugh, exaggerated beyond their feelings, on the part of the audience, brought him to the door of the kitchen. His attention, excited by what he had heard, was converted into no less astonishment, when, on his entering, a man, whose features the dim lamp hanging over the chimney had not at first suffered him to see distinctly, rising from his seat, and dropping from his hand a pot of wine, which he was just lifting to his mouth, ran up to him, and falling on his knees before him, clasped his arms round him, and exclaimed,"Oh, vous voila! vous voila!" he recognised the person of Jacques Perlet.—"He is crazy, he is mad," called out two or three of the by-standers, and again a loud laugh burst from every mouth.
Joy for some moments suspended the utterance of Jacques, and surprise that of the count; which silence the host misconstruing on the part of the count, advanced to rid him of his troublesome detainer, and for that purpose, seized with both his hands Jacques's left arm; this rough handling first recalled Jacques to his recollection, and immediately springing on his feet, he levelled a blow at the host for attempting to tear him from the count, which, had not the count arrested his arm, and thus prevented its full execution, might have proved of fatal consequences to the unwarranted interferer.
Those who laugh irrationally at trifles, laugh equally whoever is the cause; thus the whole merriment of the kitchen was now turned against the precipitately retreating landlord; but as ridicule has often produced valour in a breast which nature never implanted in it, the landlord, with a countenance which seemed in return for this raillery to wish every one present in his situation, with exactly his feelings (by no means a slender punishment), was advancing to the combat, when the count stepping between the combatants, explained in as few words as he could convey his meaning in, that the offender was a person in whom he felt interest, and that he wished the dispute to cease.
A smaller plea would have quieted the fury of the host; and all Jacques wished for, was a moment for testifying the joy and triumph he felt at again finding the count, which he did by a loud huzzah, and exclaiming "that the count was the only good man ever created, except his own father, who was dead."
The confusion of fists being ended, the confusion of tongues ensued; Jacques stood on one side of the count, exclaiming incoherently, "Ah, monsieur, how could you run away and not take me with you? I am sure I would have been faithful to you: you know I would.—I would not have staid there without you for all the world; it was worse than the maudite Bastile:—well, Dieu merci, I have found you now, and if ever I leave you again, I wish my uncle and Kroonzer may both catch me the next minute."—On the other side stood the host, who, regardless of Jacques's ejaculation, contended to relate, that Jacques had arrived there on foot about two hours before, that he had inquired for a person, by whom the host now found him to have meant the count, whose dress he could not describe, and with whom he had sometimes said he expected to find a lady; sometimes a lady and a young man, and sometimes that he was alone; in short, that he had talked so inconsistently, and so much in French, that they had not understood above half what he said, only that he had often mentioned the Bastile; that they at last conjectured him to be mad, and when the count entered, he confessed they had been amusing themselves at his expense, till he had wept for vexation; added to this, the hostess, whose voice was none of the softest, was continually interlarding her husband's story with her own emendations and additions, and no one else in the kitchen desisted from giving their own opinion, whether it was attended to or not.
The count seized the first moment of silence, which many attempts to articulate at length gained him from that part of his audience by which he wished to be heard, to announce to the host and hostess that Jacques was a person for whom he entertained a warm friendship, and to desire that he might be accommodated to his ease, making himself answerable for the charge: he then turned to Jacques, and having easily convinced him that he was under the necessity of leaving him to watch over a sick friend, and with a caution to be careful what he said, and promising to see him early in the morning, he returned to the chamber of Alphonsus with the drink he had left it to procure.
Count Byroff was far from being displeased at so unexpectedly again meeting with Jacques Perlet; he knew him to be faithfully attached to him, and promised himself that he would be a useful companion on their intended journey; that Jacques had contrived to escape from the banditti, after having effected it from the Bastile, could not much excite his wonder; but what chance had fortunately conducted him to the spot where he now was, his curiosity was raised to learn.
At an early hour Lauretta returned to the chamber of her husband; she found him fallen into a soft slumber: the count stole silently out of the room, and left his daughter to the willing task of watching over her Alphonsus.
Early as the hour was, Jacques was risen, and the count descending, found him waiting his arrival, seated on a bench without the door of the little inn, where he was practising his trade on his own shoes, which were a good deal the worse for the journey they had performed.
On seeing the count, he sprang from his seat, and shaking him by the hand with both his, reiterated his joy at their fortunate meeting: the count in return acknowledged the pleasure it gave him, and having told Jacques to resume his seat, and placed himself by his side, he began to inquire what accident had brought him to that spot.
"No accident at all, monsieur," replied Jacques, "but chance; as soon as I had got away from the old castle full of robbers, I resolved to walk all over the empire, and ask every body I met after you, till I found you; and you see, monsieur, what good fortune I have had, graces à Dieu; and I hope you won't send me away from you now, monsieur."
The count immediately eased his doubts on this head, and then proceeded to inform him of the occasion of his having left the banditti, and also gave him the outlines of such occurrences as had befallen him since their last meeting.
"Well, monsieur, and how do you think I got away from them?" cried Jacques, in return to the count's narrative.
"I know you have a ready invention," returned count Byroff, "but cannot possibly presume to guess in what manner you exercised it in effecting your escape."
"Then I'll tell you, monsieur:—when Kroonzer came back at night, and told us of Theodore's death, and that the lady was your daughter, some said one thing of you, and some another; however they all agreed that it was natural enough for you to go with your child, and that they believed you were too much a man of honour to betray them, after they had been so kind to you; so they resolved not to seek after you, or to hurt you, if you again fell into their hands. Well, monsieur, when I heard you were gone, I had a strange inclination to be gone too; but I durst not ask, for I thought perhaps they might not put so much trust in me as a man of honour, as they did in you, and would keep such a tight watch over me, that I might never get away from them at all; so I only pretended to cry, and be very unhappy, because I might never see you again; and I declared, that if you did not come back next day, I would kill myself: they only laughed at me, but, however, I knew what I was doing, and did not mind them a straw; next day I was quite melancholy, and at night they asked me, whether I would keep my word; I did not answer them, but went and threw myself on my bed, dressed as I was: when they were all asleep, I got up, and running past the man who had the watch in the hall, I made for the muddy pond on the west side of the castle, and having thrown in a great stone, a hat, and handkerchief, I climbed up, like a cat, into the top of the old willow that stands on its margin; presently several of the banditti came and dragged for me in the pond; the hat which they saw left them no room to doubt that I had thrown myself in, and not finding my body after some time searching, they concluded me sunk into the mud and smothered, and away they went neither pleased nor sorry at what had happened: when they were gone I came down from the tree, and ever since, monsieur, I have been wandering about, I hardly know where."
The physician arriving to attend his patient put an end to their conversation, as count Byroff rose to accompany him to the chamber of Alphonsus.
In the course of the day Jacques was introduced to the knowledge of Alphonsus and Lauretta, the former of whom received him as graciously as his situation would permit; the latter, in a transport of gratitude, as the sole means of her having ever known a father.
Alphonsus continued rapidly to regain his health and strength, and at the expiration of ten other days the physician pronounced him able to recommence his journey; our travellers accordingly, with the addition of Jacques to their former party, again set forward on their route, and no occurrence worthy of notice happened till their arrival at a solitary inn, which was situated in the road between Cohenburg castle, and the mansion of count Frederic, and about a league distant from each.