Jacob's ladder
Chapter 4: Flight

As Blatsov left the room, Luis turnedand found the innkeeper staring at him in surprise. Remembering Charlessuggestion to ask for his help, he closed the door carefully, but when he wasabout to speak, the owner of the house took the lead:

“These men are looking for you.”

“Did you understand them? Do youspeak French?”

“No, but your face told me.”

Luis sighed: he had hoped he would beable to hide his feelings better.

“You are right,” he said. “I must getoff here without their seeing me. Can you help me?”

“What about your companion?”

“He has decided to stay and facethem.”

“Then follow me.”

The innkeeper took a candle, lifted awooden hatch, which evidently led to a cellar where he kept his victuals, and wentdown the dilapidated stairs. The underground space was small, clogged with barrels,strings of sausages, cured hams and other animal and vegetable products. Theinnkeeper went to the furthest and darkest corner and said:

“Help me move this barrel.”

Pushing together, they made it rolland disclosed the mouth of a horizontal tunnel which, after a short distance,disappeared in the darkness.

“During the war with the French, Ibuilt this secret passage to help us get away in an emergency. We have neverused it. It ends in a nearby grove, where the ground is craggy. The exit is invisiblefrom the house. Ciudad Rodrigo is less than a mile towards the sunset. You can geta horse there. I wish you luck.”

Luis thanked the innkeeper and wentin the tunnel. When the man pushed the barrel again in its original position,hiding the entrance, he found himself in total darkness. He had to grope, but theway was easy, even and straight, and the tunnel was high enough. In a few stepshe saw a faraway point of light which grew as he walked on. He found the exitblocked with brush, and estimated the length of the tunnel as one hundred and fiftyyards. Before getting out, he watched cautiously for French soldiers around,but saw nobody. He got out, arranged the shrubs in their place and walked fast towardthe West, keeping out of sight from the inn.

A quarter of an hour later, he was inCiudad Rodrigo. In the purse which Charles had given him was enough money tobuy a good horse, a warm traveling rug and food for two weeks, with a littleleft for extras. At noon, he was riding toward Portugal.

Up to that point, the urgency of hisflight had not left him time to think. Once on the way, he had more thanenough. Three things had shaken him most in what he had overheard: first, seeingPierre in the hands of their enemies; second, the knowledge that Charles owned atitle: they had called him count Philippe; finally, Blatsov’s mysterious words aboutNikomakos and his army of living dead, together with the news that the Russianwanted him, rather than Charles.

The first was also a relief: Pierrewould be company for Charles; at least he wouldn’t be alone. What would Gérarddo when he discovered that his tutor no longer had Jacob’s ladder in his possession?Would he torture or kill Charles? He didn’t want to think about it.

The second increased his feeling thatCharles had not treated him fairly. Almost every day he had been discoveringsomething new which his tutor had hidden. Charles must obviously be one of themany aristocrats who had fled France at the beginning of the revolution. He hadrebuilt his life in another country, hiding his rank for shame at having gonedown the social ladder. It was also a reasonable precaution, on the face ofpossible reprises by the revolutionaries or by Bonaparte. The abduction andexecution of the duke of Enghien was too recent to be forgotten. In any case,whatever his excuses, he regretted his tutor’s lack of trust, the suspicionthat he was considered a child.

The third made him feel such panic,that he could scarcely think about it. He was not afraid of Gérard, who would probablypursue him as soon as he guessed that Jacob’s ladder was in his possession, buthe was horrified by the discovery that he was Blatsov’s target. He knew that theman in black would follow him as soon as his flight was discovered, even beforeGérard had time to question Charles.

How much start had he? That woulddepend on the precise time when Gérard would call for his presence: a few hours,in the best case. His fear of Blatsov was such, that he had few hopes of beingable to mislead him. The way in which he had followed them from Salamanca toCiudad Rodrigo invested him with a magic quality, as though he would be able tolocate Luis at a distance. This feeling was dangerous; it could bring him todesperation, so he tried to fight it and refused to think about Blatsov and thepossibility of being overtaken. He glanced back continuously, fearing to see ablack rider following his tracks, but the way back was always empty.

As time went by, his trust grew andhis fear decreased. On the second day, he crossed the frontier to Portugal and daredhope he would reach Lisbon before being overtaken by Gérard or Blatsov. On thefourth day, he dared think seriously that his enemies had lost his traces. Heknew Charles well enough to know that he would not be compelled by the worsttortures to confess where he had sent Luis. From the direction of their previousmovements, they could infer that they were going to Portugal, but there weretwenty cities beside Lisbon where they could have been going. Porto, forinstance, was a big harbor and much nearer. He had tried not to leave tracks,by sleeping outdoors and eating only what he carried. The weather had beenfine, although the nights were cold, but he was wearing winter clothes and hisnew blanket had been extremely useful. Blatsov was probably by now on his wayto Porto.

On the tenth day, Sunday March 26that mid-morning, he saw Lisbon for the first time on the southwestern horizon.At its left, the estuary of the Tajo River looked like a big lake or a small sea.“In a few hours I’ll be there,” he thought, “although I’ll still have to replaceLady Borland, before the sunset, I hope, so I wouldn’t need to replace a room tosleep.”

Suddenly he felt impelled to lookbackwards, toward the part of the way he had just ridden through. A mile and ahalf behind, a rider in black galloped on a horse of the same color. Though itwas impossible to see his face, he shuddered and for some time remained paralyzedwith fear, but remembering that he was very near salvation, he spurred hishorse and cantered to Lisbon.

The race was memorable. The pursuingcharger was better than his own, but more tired, for on the last two days Luishad ridden easily, judging himself safe. Both horses were thus matched. Theblack rider was gaining distance slowly, but it was difficult to notice.

When he had almost reached theoutskirts of Lisbon, Luis observed with horror that his horse was weakening:his under lip was flecked with froth and his gait unbalanced, threatening tostumble and fall. He used the spurs without mercy, until the flank of the pooranimal was tinged red, but he could not make it go faster. In the meantime, hispursuer was coming steadily nearer: he was now less than a mile behind.

Finally he reached the first housesin the town. After a few hundred paces, his horse fell dead. By good chance, hewas not trapped below the animal. As soon as he touched the ground, without daringto look back, for fear of losing a precious time, he started running throughthe maze of alleyways and narrow passages of the town.

He ran in zigzag and soon lost allsense of direction. He only wanted to mislead the rider, and it did not even cometo his mind that he could ask for the help of the people in the streets, wholooked at him in surprise at his haste. Suddenly, at a crossing, he saw hispursuer in the same street, two blocks to the left. He was still riding, butcould not gallop in the tortuous city ways and had thus lost part of hisvantage.

Up to that point, Luis had kept athread of hope. Perhaps he had been mistaken; maybe the man in black was not Blatsov.Now that he saw him at short range, no further doubt was possible: he wasindeed Blatsov, and he had seen Luis. His terror increased to such a point,that he started running again without knowing whether he was going toward thecity center or away from it.

Half an hour later, he stopped. Hisheart was beating in his throat, his lungs were incapable of breathing and hefelt strong jabs in his right flank. He had the impression that Blatsov wasabout to trap him, that walking another step would cause his death. Leaning onthe wall, he looked around, fearing to see him near, but he was alone.Apparently, he had misled his enemy. As hope filled his soul again, he feltable to face any danger.

At last he remembered Lady Borland,the only person who could hide him from Blatsov and give him protection. Hestopped several people to ask her address, but none of them knew it. At last hefound one who had heard of the lady, informed him that she lived near thecathedral, next to the estuary, and gave him instructions to replace the place.

It did not take him long to arrive atthe cathedral, which towered above the nearby buildings and could be seen from afar.Now he only had to replace the house where Lady Borland lived, and a woman comingfrom the market pointed at it. Fifty more paces and he would be there.

Suddenly he saw Blatsov a littlefurther, coming from a side street. He was walking, having left his horse tosearch for his prey more easily. He was looking in the opposite direction, butit couldn’t be long before he turned and saw Luis, who felt as though the earthhad opened before his feet: so near salvation, and again in danger!

His only hope was to get in the housebefore Blatsov overtook him. To do that, he had to walk towards his enemy. Heshuddered at the thought. Then he remembered Charles, knew what he had to doand started walking. His legs seemed to have turned into stone, the distancelooked infinite and time appeared to have stopped. His movements, however, musthave been faster than he thought: when he arrived at the door, Blatsov had stillnot turned.

Loosing all control, he grasped theknocker and struck several strong blows. He dared not look at Blatsov, whoseattention had doubtlessly been attracted by the noise. Suddenly the door openedand he saw the astonished face of a servant. Pushing him, Luis plunged inside andshouted, while he lost his balance:

“Shut the door! Save me!”

The servant obeyed automatically. Asthe door closed noisily, he found himself in comparative darkness: the windowlesshall was scarcely lighted by a single torch. Blatsov was outside: Luis wassafe, for the time being.