She opened a window and called down into the street, asking who it was who was making such a tremendous thundering at the door at that time of the night, rousing everybody from their sleep. This she did in a voice which she tried to make as like a man’s as she could. By the glimmer of the moon, which was beginning to break through dark clouds, she could make out a tall figure in a long grey cloak, with a broad hat drawn down over his forehead.
Then she cried, in a loud voice, so that this person in the street should hear, “Baptiste! Claude! Pierre! Get up, and see who this rascal is who is trying to get in at this time of night.”
But a gentle, entreating voice spoke from beneath, saying, “Ah, La Martinière, I know it is you, you kind soul, though you are trying to alter your voice; and I know well enough that Baptiste is away in the country, and that there is nobody in the house but your mistress and yourself. Let me in. I must speak with your lady this instant.”
“Do you imagine,” asked La Martinière, “that my lady is going to speak to you in the middle of the night? Can’t you understand that she has been in bed ever so long, and that it is as much as my place is worth to awaken her out of her first sweet sleep, which is so precious to a person at her time of life?”
“I know,” answered the person beneath, “that she has just this moment put away the manuscript of the novel Clelia, at which she is working so hard, and is writing some verses which she means to read tomorrow at Madame de Maintenon’s. I implore you, Madame La Martinière, be so compassionate as to open the door. Upon your doing so depends the escape of an unfortunate creature from destruction. Nay, honour, freedom, a human life, depend on this moment in which I must speak with your lady. Remember, her anger will rest upon you for ever when she comes to know that it was you who cruelly drove away from her door the unfortunate wretch who came to beg for her help.”
“But why should you come for her help at such an extraordinary time of the night?” asked La Martinière. “Come back in the morning at a reasonable hour.” But the reply came up, “Does destiny, when it strikes like the destroying lightning, consider hours and times? When there is but one moment when rescue is possible, is help to be put off? Open the door to me. Have no fear of a wretched being who is without defence, hunted, hard pressed by a terrible fate, and flies to your lady for succour from the most imminent peril.”
La Martinière heard the stranger moaning and groaning as he uttered those words in the deepest sorrow. The tone of his voice was that of a youth, soft and gentle, and most touching to the heart; and so, deeply moved, she went without much more hesitation and fetched the key.
As soon as she opened the door, the form shrouded in the mantle burst violently in and, passing La Martinière, cried in a wild voice, “Take me to your lady!” La Martinière held up the light which she was carrying, and the glimmer fell on the face of a very young man, distorted and frightfully drawn, and as pale as death. She almost fell down on the landing for terror when he opened his cloak and showed the glittering hilt of a stiletto sticking out of his doublet. He flashed his gleaming eyes at her, and cried, more wildly than before, “Take me to your lady, I tell you.”
La Martinière saw that her mistress was in the utmost danger. All her affection for her, who was to her as the kindest of mothers, flamed up and created a courage which she herself would scarcely have thought herself capable of. She quickly closed the door of her room, moved rapidly in front of it, and said in a brave, firm voice, “Your furious behaviour, now that you have got into the house, is very different from what I should have expected from the way you spoke down in the street. I see now that I had pity on you a little too easily. You shall not see or speak with my lady at this hour. If you have no bad designs, and are not afraid to show yourself in daylight, come and tell her your business tomorrow; but take yourself off out of this house now.”