Two men were struggling on the floor Philippe and Jean Pierre.
I was past surprise. I was scarcely aware of them. I just knew that I was not going to lose my life in the dungeons, but I was losing everything that would make that life worth living, for on the floor, bleeding from his wounds, lay the man I loved.
Twelve
Outside the sounds of revelry went on. They did not know, those who celebrated the grape harvest, that the Comte lay on his bed near to death; that Philippe lay in his under the influence of the sleeping draught the doctor had given him; that Jean Pierre and I sat in the library waiting.
Two doctors were with the Comte. They had sent us down here to wait and the waiting seemed endless.
It was not yet eleven o’clock and I seemed to have lived through a lifetime since I had stood in the dungeons with the Comte and suddenly come face to face with death.
And so strangely, there sat Jean Pierre, his face pale, his eyes bewildered as though he too did not understand what he was doing there.
“How long they are,” I said.
“Don’t fret. He won’t die.”
I shook my head.
“No,” said Jean Pierre, almost bitterly.
“He won’t die until he wants to. Doesn’t he always …” A smile twisted his lips.
“Sit down,” he said with a new authority.
“You can do no good by walking up and down.
A second earlier and I’d have saved him. I left it that second too long. “
He had taken on a new authority. Sitting there he might have been the Comte. For the first time I noticed the chateau features an irrelevant detail with which to concern myself at such a time!
It was Jean Pierre who had dominated that grisly scene. He it was who had sent me to call the doctors, who had planned what we should do.
“We should as yet say little of what has happened in the dungeons,” he cautioned, ‘for you can be sure that the Comte will want the story told his way. I expect the gun will have gone off accidentally. He wouldn’t want Monsieur Philippe to be accused of attempted murder. We’d better be discreet until we know what he wants. “
I clung to that. Until we know. Then we should know. He would open his eyes and live again.
“If he lives …” I began.
“He’ll live,” said Jean Pierre.
“If only I could be sure …”
“He wants to live.” He paused for a moment, then went on: “I saw you leave. How could I help it! Monsieur Philippe saw you… why, everyone must have seen, and guessed how things were. I watched you. I followed you to the dungeons … as Philippe did. But the Comte will want to live … and if he wants to, he will.”
“Then Jean Pierre, you will have saved his life.”
He wrinkled his brow.
“I don’t know why I did it,” he said.
“I could have let Philippe shoot him. He’s a first-class shot. The bullet would have gone through his heart. That’s what he was aiming for. I knew it… and I said to myself:
“This is the end of you, Monsieur Ie Comte.” And then . I did it. I sprang on Philippe; I caught his arm. Just that second too late. Half a second, shall we say. If I’d been that half a second earlier the bullet would have hit the ceiling . half a second later and it would have pierced his heart. I couldn’t have got there earlier, though. I wasn’t near enough. I don’t know why I did it. I just didn’t think.”
“Jean Pierre,” I repeated, ‘if he lived you will have saved his life.”
“It’s queer,” he admitted.
And there was silence.
I had to talk of something else. I could not bear to think of him lying there unconscious . while his life slowly ebbed away, taking with it all my hopes of happiness.
“You were looking for the emeralds,” I said.
“Yes. I meant to find them and go away. It would not have been stealing. I had a right to something. Now, of course, I shall have nothing. I shall go to Mermoz and be his slave all my life if he lives, and he will live because of what I did. “
“We shall never forget it, Jean Pierre.”
“You will marry him?”
“Yes.”
“So I lose you too.”
“You never wanted me, Jean Pierre. You wanted only what you thought he did.”
“It’s strange … how he’s always been there … all my life. I hate him, you know. There have been times when I could have taken a gun to him … and to think … if he lives it will be because I saved his life. I wouldn’t have believed it of myself.”
“None of us knows how we’ll act in certain circumstances … not until we come right face to face with them. It was a wonderful thing you did tonight, Jean Pierre.”
“It was a crazy thing. I wouldn’t have believed it. I hated him, I tell you. All my life I’ve hated him. He has all that I want. He is all that I want to be.”
“All that Philippe wanted, too. He hated him as you did. It was envy.
That’s one of the seven deadly sins, Jean Pierre, and I believe, the deadliest. But you triumphed over ) it. I’m so glad, Jean Pierre, so glad. “
“But I tell you it wasn’t meant. Or perhaps it was. Perhaps I never meant it when I thought I’d like to kill him. But I would have stolen the emeralds if I’d had a chance.”
“But you would never have taken his life. You know 1 that now. You would even have married me, perhaps. You might have tried to marry Genevieve….”
His face softened momentarily.
“I might yet,” he said.
“That would upset the noble Comte.”
“And Genevieve? You would use her for your revenge?”
“She’s a charming girl. Young… and wild…. Like myself perhaps, unaccountable. And she’s the Comte’s daughter. Don’t think I’m a reformed character because I’ve done this crazy thing tonight. I won’t make promises about Genevieve.”
“She’s a young and impressionable girl.”
“She’s fond of me.”
“She must not be hurt. Life has not been easy to her.”
“Do you think I’d hurt her?”
“No, Jean Pierre. I don’t think you’re half as wicked as you like to think you are.”
“You don’t know much about me, Dallas.”
“I think I know a great deal.”
“You’d be surprised if you did. I had my plans … I was going to see that my son was master of the chateau if I could never be.”
“But how?”
“He had plans, you know, before he was going to marry you. He wasn’t marrying again, so he decided he’d bring his mistress here and marry her to Philippe. His son and hers would inherit the chateau. Well, it wasn’t going to be his son but mine.”
“You … and Claude!”
He nodded triumphantly.
“Why not! She was angry because he didn’t notice her. Philippe’s no man, and so … Well, what do you think?”
I was listening for the approach of the doctors. I was only thinking of what was going on in that room above.
The doctors came into the room. There were two of them from the town, and they would know a great deal about us all. It was one of these who had attended the Comte when Philippe had shot him in the woods.
I had stood up and both doctors looked straight at me.
“He’s …” I began.
“He’s sleeping now.”
I looked at them mutely imploring them to give me some hope.
“It was a near thing,” said one of them almost tenderly.
“A few inches more and … He was fortunate.”
“He’ll recover?” My voice sounded loud and vibrant with emotion.
“He’s by no means out of danger. If he gets through the night…”