While Blanche, trembling, and nearly fainting, was supplicating for
release, she heard amid the tumult, that approached, the voice of St.
Foix, and she had scarcely renewed her shriek, when the door of the
room was thrown open, and he appeared, much disfigured with blood, and
pursued by several ruffians. Blanche neither saw, or heard any more; her
head swam, her sight failed, and she became senseless in the arms of the
robber, who had detained her.
When she recovered, she perceived, by the gloomy light, that trembled
round her, that she was in the same chamber, but neither the Count, St.
Foix, or any other person appeared, and she continued, for some time,
entirely still, and nearly in a state of stupefaction. But, the dreadful
images of the past returning, she endeavoured to raise herself, that
she might seek her friends, when a sullen groan, at a little distance,
reminded her of St. Foix, and of the condition, in which she had seen
him enter this room; then, starting from the floor, by a sudden effort
of horror, she advanced to the place whence the sound had proceeded,
where a body was lying stretched upon the pavement, and where, by the
glimmering light of a lamp, she discovered the pale and disfigured
countenance of St. Foix.
Her horrors, at that moment, may be easily
imagined. He was speechless; his eyes were half closed, and, on the
hand, which she grasped in the agony of despair, cold damps had settled.
While she vainly repeated his name, and called for assistance, steps
approached, and a person entered the chamber, who, she soon perceived,
was not the Count, her father; but, what was her astonishment, when,
supplicating him to give his assistance to St. Foix, she discovered
Ludovico! He scarcely paused to recognise her, but immediately bound
up the wounds of the Chevalier, and, perceiving, that he had fainted
probably from loss of blood, ran for water; but he had been absent only
a few moments, when Blanche heard other steps approaching, and, while
she was almost frantic with apprehension of the ruffians, the light of a
torch flashed upon the walls, and then Count De Villefort appeared, with
an affrighted countenance, and breathless with impatience, calling upon
his daughter.
At the sound of his voice, she rose, and ran to his arms,
while he, letting fall the bloody sword he held, pressed her to his
bosom in a transport of gratitude and joy, and then hastily enquired for
St. Foix, who now gave some signs of life. Ludovico soon after returning
with water and brandy, the former was applied to his lips, and the
latter to his temples and hands, and Blanche, at length, saw him unclose
his eyes, and then heard him enquire for her; but the joy she felt,
on this occasion, was interrupted by new alarms, when Ludovico said it
would be necessary to remove Mons. St. Foix immediately, and added, 'The
banditti, that are out, my Lord, were expected home, an hour ago, and
they will certainly find us, if we delay. That shrill horn, they know,
is never sounded by their comrades but on most desperate occasions, and
it echoes among the mountains for many leagues round. I have known them
brought home by its sound even from the Pied de Melicant. Is any body
standing watch at the great gate, my Lord?'