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Updated: May 2, 2025
"Madame de Noyan," I said with forced calmness, surprising myself, "I will redeem my pledge, and either save your husband, or meet my fate at his side." Before I could prevent her action she had flung herself at my feet, and was kissing my hand. "God bless you, Geoffrey Benteen!
Then, with silent gesture of warning, I flung aside the heavy cowl which had concealed my features. "You, I presume, are Charles de Noyan," I said gravely. "I am not Father Cassati, nor drunken priest of any Order of Holy Church." The prisoner was thoroughly astounded.
Yet its incidents remain in memory with peculiar distinctness of detail. I do not recall exactly how it occurred, but my duty during that first night chanced to place me at the after oar. In consequence I sat directly facing Madame de Noyan, operating the rudder bar.
We could but stand in silence, gazing upon the broad, impassable sheet of water, blocking further advance. De Noyan was earliest to recover power of speech. "Le Diable!" he swore, half unconsciously. "This cursed place is surely damned! Yet it has some consolation to my mind, for that will drive us backward into the lowlands, out of this demon-haunted defile."
"Virginia," I gasped, breathless from the hard run. "Bless de Lawd, Massa Benteen," returned a darky voice. "An' Massa Charlie, as I 'm a sinner. I tell you, sah, we done 'bout gib you both up fo' suah." "Stop talking just now, Alphonse, and lead along lively," said De Noyan, with returning authority. "We can converse later, in surroundings more congenial."
"He has been with the De Noyan family from a child, and is devoted to his master." "Then I take him with me for use should I chance to require a messenger."
The woman stood above them, dominant; every eye was fastened upon her; the priests were prostrate on the stair. I saw De Noyan leaning forward, his teeth clinched, his face death-like. From wall to wall Naladi's gaze wandered; once she looked into his eyes, then down again upon the mob of savages. Like the sharp hiss of a snake a single sentence leaped from her thin lips. The effect was magical.
Yet, Mother of God, it gives me a pleasant tale to pour into the ears of him you call De Noyan when we meet again to-morrow. If I mistake not, the one you seek in secret bears the name of that gay gallant. At least, she masquerades in this wilderness under the title of Madame de Noyan. But 'tis you, not he, her reputed husband, forsooth, who seeks her chamber in the midnight.
The heavy nail-studded door swung noiselessly ajar; with single questioning glance backward at the motionless sentry, I stepped within, closed it behind me, and stood, my heart throbbing fiercely, face to face with her husband the man to whom had been given the woman I loved, Chevalier Charles de Noyan, condemned to die at sunrise.
"Up country is our only chance," I gasped, grasping an oar, vaguely noting a second figure huddled within the bow. "All the lower water is patrolled by the fleet, but above there are plenty of hiding places. Lay down to it hard, you black rascals; you are pulling for your lives." De Noyan extended his hand toward the east.
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