Too late a dozen sprang forward to the king's assistance;but before they reached him he had himself drawn the knife from the wound and struck the assassin with it on the head.While some,with cries of grief,ran to support Henry,from whose body the blood was already flowing fast,others seized and struck down the wretched monk.As they gathered round him I saw him raise himself for a moment on his knees and look upward;the blood which ran down his face,no less than the mingled triumph and horror of his features,impressed the sight on my recollection.
The next instant three swords were plunged into his breast,and his writhing body,plucked up from the floor amid a transport of curses,was forced headlong through the casement and flung down to make sport for the grooms and scullions who stood below.
A scene of indescribable confusion followed,some crying that the king was dead,while others called for a doctor,and some by name for Dortoman.I expected to see the doors closed and all within secured,that if the man had confederates they might be taken.
But there was no one to give the order.Instead,many who had neither the ENTREE nor any business in the chamber forced their way in,and by their cries and pressure rendered the hub-bub and tumult a hundred times worse.In the midst of this,while Istood stunned and dumbfounded,my own risks and concerns forgotten,I felt my sleeve furiously plucked,and,looking round,found Simon at my elbow.The lad's face was crimson,his eyes seemed,starting from his head.
'Come,'he muttered,seizing my arm.'Come!'And without further ceremony or explanation he dragged me towards the door,while his face and manner evinced as much heat and impatience as if he had been himself the assassin.'Come,there is not a moment to be lost,'he panted,continuing his exertions without the least intermission.
'Whither?'I said,in amazement,as I reluctantly permitted him to force me along the passage and through the gaping crowd on the stairs.'Whither,man?'
'Mount and ride!'was the answer he hissed in my ear.'Ride for your life to the King of Navarre--to the King of France it may be!Ride as you have never ridden before,and tell him the news,and bid him look to himself!Be the first,and,Heaven helping us,Turenne may do his worst!'
I felt every nerve in my body tingle as I awoke to his meaning.
Without a word I left his arm,and flung myself into the crowd which filled the lower passage to suffocation.As I struggled fiercely with them Simon aided me by crying 'A doctor!a doctor!
make way there!'and this induced many to give place to me under the idea that I was an accredited messenger.Eventually Isucceeded in forcing my way through and reaching the courtyard;being,as it turned out,the first person to issue from the Chateau.A dozen people sprang towards me with anxious eyes and questions on their lips;but I ran past them and,catching the Cid,which was fortunately at hand,by the rein,bounded into the saddle.
As I turned the horse to the gate I heard Simon cry after me.
'The Scholars'Meadow!Go that way!'and then I heard no more.
I was out of the yard and galloping bare-headed down the pitched street,while women snatched their infants up and ran aside,and men came startled to the doors,crying that the League was upon us.As the good horse flung up his head and bounded forward,hurling the gravel behind him with hoofs which slid and clattered on the pavement,as the wind began to whistle by me,and I seized the reins in a shorter grip,I felt my heart bound with exultation.I experienced such a blessed relief and elation as the prisoner long fettered and confined feels when restored to the air of heaven.
