“One more bold stroke and we have our man!” exclaimed Chupin. “Come, comrades!” And now the party were not more than two hundred feet from the house in which the outlaw had found an asylum.
Antoine and his wife looked at each other with anguish in their eyes. They saw that their visitor was lost.
“We must save him! we must save him!” cried the woman.
“Yes, we must save him!” repeated the husband gloomily. “They shall kill me before I betray a man in my own house.”
“If he could hide in the stable behind the bundles of straw--”
“Oh, they would find him! These soldiers are worse than tigers, and the wretch who leads them on must have a bloodhound’s scent.” He turned quickly to Lacheneur. “Come, sir,” said he, “let us leap from the back window and fly to the mountains. They will see us, but no matter! These horsemen are always clumsy runners. If you can’t run, I’ll carry you. They will probably fire at us, but miss their aim.”
The honest mountaineer shuddered; still he simply said: “She will join us.”
Lacheneur grasped his protector’s hand. “Ah! you are a noble people,” he exclaimed, “and God will reward you for your kindness to a poor fugitive. But you have done too much already. I should be the basest of men if I exposed you to useless danger. I can bear this life no longer; I have no wish to escape.” Then drawing the sobbing woman to him and kissing her on the forehead. “I have a daughter, young and beautiful like yourself,” he added. “Poor Marie-Anne! And I pitilessly sacrificed her to my hatred! I must not complain; come what may, I have deserved my fate.”
The sound of the approaching footsteps became more and more distinct. Lacheneur straightened himself up, and seemed to be gathering all his energy for the decisive moment. “Remain inside,” he said imperiously, to Antoine and his wife. “I am going out; they must not arrest me in your house.” And as he spoke, he crossed the threshold with a firm tread. The soldiers were but a few paces off. “Halt!” he exclaimed, in a loud ringing voice. “Are you not seeking for Lacheneur? I am he! I surrender myself.”
His manner was so dignified, his tone so impressive, that the soldiers involuntarily paused. This man before them was doomed; they knew the fate awaiting him, and seemed as awed as if they had been in the presence of death itself. One there was among the search party, whom Lacheneur’s ringing words had literally terrified, and this was Chupin. Remorse filled his cowardly heart, and pale and trembling, he sought to hide himself behind the soldiers.