Milady fell down, and seemed to be in a swoon.
Felton snatched away the knife.
“See, my Lord,” said he, in a deep, gloomy tone, “here is a woman who was under my guard, and who has killed herself!”
“Be at ease, Felton,” said Lord de Winter. “She is not dead; demons do not die so easily. Be tranquil, and go wait for me in my chamber.”
“But, my Lord–”
“Go, sir, I command you!”
At this injunction from his superior, Felton obeyed; but in going out, he put the knife into his bosom.
As to Lord de Winter, he contented himself with calling the woman who waited on Milady, and when she was come, he recommended the prisoner, who was still fainting, to her care, and left them alone.
Meanwhile, all things considered and notwithstanding his suspicions, as the wound might be serious, he immediately sent off a mounted man to find a physician.
58 ESCAPE
As Lord de Winter had thought, Milady’s wound was not dangerous. So soon as she was left alone with the woman whom the baron had summoned to her assistance she opened her eyes.
It was, however, necessary to affect weakness and pain–not a very difficult task for so finished an actress as Milady. Thus the poor woman was completely the dupe of the prisoner, whom, notwithstanding her hints, she persisted in watching all night.
But the presence of this woman did not prevent Milady from thinking.
There was no longer a doubt that Felton was convinced; Felton was hers. If an angel appeared to that young man as an accuser of Milady, he would take him, in the mental disposition in which he now found himself, for a messenger sent by the devil.
Milady smiled at this thought, for Felton was now her only hope– her only means of safety.
But Lord de Winter might suspect him; Felton himself might now be watched!
Toward four o’clock in the morning the doctor arrived; but since the time Milady stabbed herself, however short, the wound had closed. The doctor could therefore measure neither the direction nor the depth of it; he only satisfied himself by Milady’s pulse that the case was not serious.
In the morning Milady, under the pretext that she had not slept well in the night and wanted rest, sent away the woman who attended her.
She had one hope, which was that Felton would appear at the breakfast hour; but Felton did not come.
Were her fears realized? Was Felton, suspected by the baron, about to fail her at the decisive moment? She had only one day left. Lord de Winter had announced her embarkation for the twenty-third, and it was now the morning of the twenty-second.
Nevertheless she still waited patiently till the hour for dinner.
Although she had eaten nothing in the morning, the dinner was brought in at its usual time. Milady then perceived, with terror, that the uniform of the soldiers who guarded her was changed.
Then she ventured to ask what had become of Felton.
She was told that he had left the castle an hour before on horseback. She inquired if the baron was still at the castle. The soldier replied that he was, and that he had given orders to be informed if the prisoner wished to speak to him.
Milady replied that she was too weak at present, and that her only desire was to be left alone.
The soldier went out, leaving the dinner served.
Felton was sent away. The marines were removed. Felton was then mistrusted.
This was the last blow to the prisoner.
Left alone, she arose. The bed, which she had kept from prudence and that they might believe her seriously wounded, burned her like a bed of fire. She cast a glance at the door; the baron had had a plank nailed over the grating. He no doubt feared that by this opening she might still by some diabolical means corrupt her guards.
Milady smiled with joy. She was free now to give way to her transports without being observed. She traversed her chamber with the excitement of a furious maniac or of a tigress shut up in an iron cage. CERTES, if the knife had been left in her power, she would now have thought, not of killing herself, but of killing the baron.