Nevertheless he knew that he must get help somehow. All over France wolves still abounded. In winter they often invaded villages and. made fierce by hunger, attacked men as well as women and children. Even now, when they had retired to their lairs in the higher ground, they still came down to roam the more desolate areas at night in search of stray cattle. Weakened as he was he knew with a horrid sinking feeling that he might easily fall a prey to them.
He felt that whatever pain it cost him he must somehow manage to crawl back to the roadside, as only there would he have any chance to attract the attention of some late passer-by. To do that was to risk an encounter with one of the highwaymen, but it was a gamble that had to be taken. To remain lying where he had fallen was to invite death, and perhaps a horrible death, in a ditch.
Turning over on his stomach he got slowly to his knees. Then he began to crawl forward, dragging his wounded foot behind him. He had not covered more than four feet when it knocked against a stone. The spasm of agony that went through him was so acute that he nearly fainted.
For a moment he lay there dizzy and helpless. As he did so the monstrous ill-luck of which he had been the victim came to his mind again. But for that chance encounter he would by now be dining in the warmth and comfort of the inn at Nevers. By interfering in someone else's quarrel, he had had his mare killed, was grievously wounded and likely to die himself.
Suddenly he began to curse, loud, long and fluently, in English, French and German. Then, as he paused at last from lack of breath, a soft voice just behind him said:
"Hush, Monsieur, I pray! That is no language to use in the presence of a lady."
Jerking round his head he stared up at the cloaked and hooded figure of a woman. It was now too dark to see her face, but he would have known that voice anywhere. It was that of Isabella d'Aranda.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE ROAD TO THE SOUTH
ROGER drew a hand wearily across his eyes. He could only suppose that the state to which he had been reduced had sent him temporarily off his head, and that he was suffering from an hallucination. But the cloaked figure ran down the bank, sank in a flurry of skirts beside him, and grasped his hands. He caught a heady whiff of the scent of gardenias, and the soft voice came again.
"Mon brave Chevalier! Thank God that I have found you! Are you gravely hurt? Oh, I pray that your wounds be not serious!"
"I have no vital injury," Roger croaked, "though I am in some pain and weak from loss of blood. But by what miracle can it be you who have come to my assistance, Senorita?"
" 'Twas my coach that you protected from those villains. I leant out of the window and recognized you, but you were much too heavily engaged to see me. When we drove off and you failed to follow I felt sure you must be wounded. Pedro, my footman, confirmed my fears. He said the last glimpse he had of you was being carried away by your horse on to the heath. So we returned to search for you."
Still greatly puzzled, Roger murmured: "I thought you on your way to Spain."
But she was no longer listening to him; she had stood up and was calling to her servants. There came an answering shout and from the gathering shadows Pedro emerged. He was accompanied by a buxom, fat-faced maid, whom Isabella addressed as Maria, and in addition to his blunderbuss he carried a lantern. By its light the two young women examined Roger's wounds, exclaiming in sympathy and gabbling away to one another in Spanish while they attended to his arm and head. Both had bled copiously, making him a horrid sight, but his arm had been no more than laid open by the bullet and the skin of his forehead only torn where it had struck the rim of his sword-hilt. He was much more worried about his instep, which they had not so far noticed. When he pointed it out to the Senorita, she exclaimed:
"Alas, yet another wound! And to get at it your boot will have to be cut off. But there is little blood and that about the slits where the sword passed through is dry already. I think we had best get you to the coach now, and so to Nevers, where you can receive proper treatment."
Taking the lantern from Pedro she told him what she wished done. With the assistance of the two women the big Spaniard hoisted Roger across his shoulders; Isabella then led the way with the light and Maria, supporting Roger's bad foot to prevent it from bumping, brought up the rear. Fortunately it was no great distance to the road and after five minutes' puffing and grunting Pedro lowered his heavy burden on to the back seat of the coach.
It was a huge vehicle and could have held eight people comfortably. In the other back-seat corner sat the old woman he had seen hauled out of it, and next to her was Quetzal. Although the roof of the coach was piled high with luggage, most of its front seat was also occupied with packages of all sorts and sizes; so Maria, still supporting Roger's foot, squatted on the floor, while Isabella sat down between him and her Indian.
Having sent Pedro to fetch Roger's sword, saddlery, valise and bedroll from the back of his dead mare, Isabella said: "Monsieur de Breuc, I wish to present you to the Senora Poeblar. The Senora was my governess until I entered the service of Madame Marie Antoinette, and recently undertook the long journey from Spain in order to act as my companion when I left the Court of France."
Roger was in no state to make graceful compliments, but the Senora made up for the brevity of his greeting by breaking into a spate of Spanish, and when she had done Quetzal added a few phrases.
"The Senora thanks you for having rescued us, Monsieur," Isabella interrupted. "She is desolated at not being able to do so in a language you understand; but during her previous sojourn in France she hardly left our Embassy, so she knows only a few words of French. Quetzal also thanks you. He calls you Monsieur Blue-Eyes, and says that later he will give you a red feather to wear in your hair, because that is a mark given to especially brave men in his country to distinguish them from others."
With an effort Roger murmured his appreciation; but to speak at all made worse the throbbing of his head, so he was much relieved when Pedro had fetched his things, and the coach set off.
Fortunately, Nevers being a place of some size, the inn there was a good one, and before the hold-up Isabella had already sent her outrider ahead to secure the best accommodation at it. Roger was carried in, made as comfortable as possible on Isabella's own travelling mattress, and a chirurgeon was sent for.
Even when the boot had been slit down, getting the injured foot out of it proved a most painful business, but the result of the chirurgeon's examination was reassuring. He said that all use of the foot would greatly retard its healing, so he meant to encase it in plaster in the morning; but that if it was kept rigid for from two to three weeks he thought that the patient would be able to walk again without developing a permanent limp.
Isabella, the plump, fat-faced Maria and the old Senora were all present at the conference and all three of them assisted the chirurgeon to wash and bandage their hero's wounds. Flattered as Roger might have been had he felt more his normal self, he now wished fervently that they would go away with the doctor and leave him in peace; but he knew there was no hope of that. He had been carried up to the largest room in the hostelry, which Isabella's outrider had reserved for her and her women, and clearly they had no thought of going to another. Maria began to lay the table for supper with her mistress's travelling cutlery, and an inn servant brought up two screens for them to undress behind afterwards.
When the meal arrived the two ladies and Quetzal sat down to it while Maria waited upon them. They conversed only in hushed voices but every ten minutes or so Isabella could not resist asking him how he was feeling and if she could get anything for him. At length he took refuge in pretending to be asleep. But he had now become feverish, and his restless tossing brought their further ministrations upon him before they retired for the night.