I felt that the time of action was approaching, but I knew now that the
first signal and movement would come from the woman, and so watched
her. I was all unarmed, but I had made up my mind what to do. At the first
movement I would seize the butcher’s axe in the right-hand corner and
fight my way out. At least, I would die hard. I stole a glance round to
fix its exact locality so that I could not fail to seize it at the
first effort, for then, if ever, time and accuracy would be precious. Good God! It was gone! All the horror of the situation burst upon me;
but the bitterest thought of all was that if the issue of the terrible
position should be against me Alice would infallibly suffer. Either she
would believe me false—and any lover, or any one who has ever been one,
can imagine the bitterness of the thought—or else she would go on
loving long after I had been lost to her and to the world, so that her
life would be broken and embittered, shattered with disappointment and
despair. The very magnitude of the pain braced me up and nerved me to
bear the dread scrutiny of the plotters. I think I did not betray myself. The old woman was watching me as a cat
does a mouse; she had her right hand hidden in the folds of her gown,
clutching, I knew, that long, cruel-looking dagger. Had she seen any
disappointment in my face she would, I felt, have known that the moment
had come, and would have sprung on me like a tigress, certain of taking
me unprepared. I looked out into the night, and there I saw new cause for danger. Before and around the hut were at a little distance some shadowy forms;
they were quite still, but I knew that they were all alert and on
guard. Small chance for me now in that direction. Again I stole a glance round the place. In moments of great excitement
and of great danger, which is excitement, the mind works very quickly,
and the keenness of the faculties which depend on the mind grows in
proportion. I now felt this. In an instant I took in the whole
situation. I saw that the axe had been taken through a small hole made
in one of the rotten boards. How rotten they must be to allow of such a
thing being done without a particle of noise. The hut was a regular murder-trap, and was guarded all around. A
garroter lay on the roof ready to entangle me with his noose if I
should escape the dagger of the old hag. In front the way was guarded
by I know not how many watchers. And at the back was a row of desperate
men—I had seen their eyes still through the crack in the boards of the
floor, when last I looked—as they lay prone waiting for the signal to
start erect. If it was to be ever, now for it! As nonchalantly as I could I turned slightly on my stool so as to get
my right leg well under me. Then with a sudden jump, turning my head,
and guarding it with my hands, and with the fighting instinct of the
knights of old, I breathed my lady’s name, and hurled myself against
the back wall of the hut. Watchful as they were, the suddenness of my movement surprised both
Pierre and the old woman. As I crashed through the rotten timbers I saw
the old woman rise with a leap like a tiger and heard her low gasp of
baffled rage. My feet lit on something that moved, and as I jumped away
I knew that I had stepped on the back of one of the row of men lying on
their faces outside the hut. I was torn with nails and splinters, but
otherwise unhurt. Breathless I rushed up the mound in front of me,
hearing as I went the dull crash of the shanty as it collapsed into a
mass. It was a nightmare climb. The mound, though but low, was awfully steep,
and with each step I took the mass of dust and cinders tore down with
me and gave way under my feet. The dust rose and choked me; it was
sickening, fœtid, awful; but my climb was, I felt, for life or death,
and I struggled on. The seconds seemed hours; but the few moments I had
in starting, combined with my youth and strength, gave me a great
advantage, and, though several forms struggled after me in deadly
silence which was more dreadful than any sound, I easily reached the
top. Since then I have climbed the cone of Vesuvius, and as I struggled
up that dreary steep amid the sulphurous fumes the memory of that awful
night at Montrouge came back to me so vividly that I almost grew faint. The mound was one of the tallest in the region of dust, and as I
struggled to the top, panting for breath and with my heart beating like
a sledge-hammer, I saw away to my left the dull red gleam of the sky,
and nearer still the flashing of lights. Thank God! I knew where I was
now and where lay the road to Paris! For two or three seconds I paused and looked back. My pursuers were
still well behind me, but struggling up resolutely, and in deadly
silence. Beyond, the shanty was a wreck—a mass of timber and moving
forms. I could see it well, for flames were already bursting out; the
rags and straw had evidently caught fire from the lantern. Still
silence there! Not a sound! These old wretches could die game, anyhow. I had no time for more than a passing glance, for as I cast an eye
round the mound preparatory to making my descent I saw several dark
forms rushing round on either side to cut me off on my way. It was now
a race for life. They were trying to head me on my way to Paris, and
with the instinct of the moment I dashed down to the right-hand side. I
was just in time, for, though I came as it seemed to me down the steep
in a few steps, the wary old men who were watching me turned back, and
one, as I rushed by into the opening between the two mounds in front,
almost struck me a blow with that terrible butcher’s axe. There could
surely not be two such weapons about! Then began a really horrible chase. I easily ran ahead of the old men,
and even when some younger ones and a few women joined in the hunt I
easily distanced them. But I did not know the way, and I could not even
guide myself by the light in the sky, for I was running away from it. I
had heard that, unless of conscious purpose, hunted men turn always to
the left, and so I found it now; and so, I suppose, knew also my
pursuers, who were more animals than men, and with cunning or instinct
had found out such secrets for themselves: for on finishing a quick
spurt, after which I intended to take a moment’s breathing space, I
suddenly saw ahead of me two or three forms swiftly passing behind a
mound to the right. I was in the spider’s web now indeed! But with the thought of this new
danger came the resource of the hunted, and so I darted down the next
turning to the right. I continued in this direction for some hundred
yards, and then, making a turn to the left again, felt certain that I
had, at any rate, avoided the danger of being surrounded. But not of pursuit, for on came the rabble after me, steady, dogged,
relentless, and still in grim silence. In the greater darkness the mounds seemed now to be somewhat smaller
than before, although—for the night was closing—they looked bigger in
proportion.