The wound is not dangerous. Alone with the waiting woman, Milady opens her eyes and plays weakness so well the poor woman sits up all night. The doctor, arriving at four, finds the cut already closed and trusts her pulse. She sends the woman away at breakfast and waits for Felton. He does not come. At dinner the soldiers' uniforms have changed. A guard says Felton left on horseback an hour earlier, and that the baron is still in the castle. The grating has a plank nailed over it. She reads the signs at once: Felton is mistrusted, the marines are gone, and she has one day left. When she is unwatched she paces like a tigress. If the knife were still in the room, she would think of killing the baron, not herself.
At six, Lord de Winter comes in armed at all points. He has become, she sees, an admirable jailer. He says she had begun to pervert Felton and that the young man will never see her again. Embarkation moves forward. By noon tomorrow he will have Buckingham's signature on her exile. If she speaks before the ship, a sergeant will blow her brains out; if she speaks aboard, the captain will have her thrown into the sea. He leaves her his farewell. She smiles with disdain and rages in her heart. A storm breaks at ten. Then a face shows at the barred window in a flash of lightning. Felton has come to file the bars. The boarded grating, he says, means God has made them senseless. He ties her wrists, hangs on a rope ladder that stops six feet short of the ground, and they freeze while a laughing patrol passes underneath.
She faints. He carries her through the rocks to a boat, then to a sloop hired with the last of his money and her bag of louis. On the water he says Lord de Winter, mistrusting him, sent him to Portsmouth to get Buckingham to sign the transportation order. The fleet sails tomorrow for La Rochelle. When she cries that the duke need not sail, Felton tells her to be satisfied: he will not sail. She reads the death of Buckingham in the young man's face and calls him as great as Judas Maccabeus. They agree she will wait until ten; if he does not return she will sail, and if he is free he will rejoin her at the Carmelite convent at Béthune.
Coming Up in Chapter 59
Felton kisses her hand as a brother going for a walk. His body looks calm; his eyes burn like fever. He keeps his face toward the sloop until the cliff hides the mast, then runs for Portsmouth, where drums are already beating and the troops are marching to the sea.