"Monsieur, I beg of you. We have been traveling for hours and there is no town in sight," Maurice pleaded with a sigh.
"Just a little farther, Maurice. I give you my word, if we don't find a town by dawn we can stop and rest."
The search was beginning to take its toll on Raoul. He was always weary, a consequence of constant vigil. It was by sheer will that he was able to continue. If not for the hope of finding Christine, he would have collapsed weeks ago. His handsome face was beginning to show the signs of his restlessness, but his eyes retained their sparkle. The horses trudged on along the muddy road, their hoofs the only sound breaking the silence of the night. Some of the men began nodding off in their saddles, their eyes opening when their chins dropped to their chests.
"Be on your guard men," Maurice called out in a commanding voice. "You never know when our luck will turn around."
"Up ahead monsieur," one of the men called out excitedly, "I see the lights of a village!"
Upon hearing this, Raoul's men regained their vigor. They pushed their horses as fast as they could run, each one dreaming of a good hot meal in their stomachs and a long night's sleep in a soft bed. But their excitement diminished as they approached the center of the town and looked around. Their faces showed their fear and apprehension. Raoul rode up alongside them, noticing their worried expressions.
"What's wrong?" Raoul asked, laughing at their sudden change. "You all look as though you've seen a ghost." Raoul became quiet as he realized the irony of his words. The miracle he had been praying for would have finally come true if they had seen a Ghost.
"Monsieur," Maurice whispered, leaning towards the Vicomte, "this is a thieves' village. By day, the merchants of nearby towns come here to sell their wares. But by night it becomes very dangerous, when the villains come to revel in the sins of the night. We should leave."
"Just a few minutes ago you were begging to rest, now you want to move on? Honestly Maurice, you puzzle me!" Raoul said jokingly. "Look, you and the men can go to the inn and get some sleep. I know had badly some of you need to rest. I'm going to go through the town and see if anyone has information about Christine."
"Monsieur I have to advise against that. It isn't safe here, for any of us," Maurice said, looking around nervously.
"Maurice," Raoul began sadly, "nothing frightens me now, nothing but the thought of never finding her. Now, I am going into that bar," Raoul said, pointing to a dilapidated building which resonated with the shouts of drunken men.
"If there is no way to change your mind, then I will go with you," Maurice replied.
"Thank you mon amie, but that won't be necessary. You look tired, go to bed."
"Those are wise words monsieur. You should consider heeding your own advice." Maurice slapped Raoul on the back and followed the other men towards the inn.
Raoul's heart began to beat faster as he approached the bar. He chided himself for getting so excited. He had gotten his hopes up so many times before, only to have them come crashing to the ground. He felt dozens of eyes on him as he entered the bar; he obviously didn't belong there. Raoul's throat tightened up as he approached the bartender, a man of considerable girth whose scars revealed that he had no misgivings about starting a fight.
Raoul cleared his throat and spoke in a strong voice, "Excuse me monsieur. I would like to ask you a few questions about a man and a woman who may have passed through here."
The bartender gave Raoul a blank stare before turning to serve his other clients. Raoul realized that his manners would do him no good in a place like this. He swung his arm along the bar, causing glasses of whiskey and beer to shatter on the floor. The men who had lost their drinks stood up angrily, knocking their stools over.
Raoul climbed up on the bar and shouted, "Listen up!" The commotion inside the bar quieted as everyone turned to look at him. Raoul reached inside his jacket and pulled the picture of Christine out of his shirt pocket. He held it out in front of him and yelled, "This woman has been taken captive. If anyone has seen her, I want to know about it. We can work out a financial agreement, I can be extremely generous, but time is of the utmost importance. I will be staying at the inn until tomorrow morning. Anyone with information can find me there."
Raoul jumped down and slammed some money on the wet bar. "Buy yourselves another round."
He was walking determinedly towards the inn when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to face two men who were obviously very inebriated. "Can I help you, monsieurs?"
"Oui, monsieur," one of them slurred. "You can help us by handing over your money. And your nice jacket while you're at it."
Raoul put up his hands defensively, "You're drunk. Please monsieurs, go sleep it off before you do something that you'll regret."
One of the men lunged at him. Raoul skillfully stepped to the side and the man fell to the ground. Raoul was in no mood for this. He turned around and began his march to the inn again. The man got up and lunged at Raoul from behind, this time catching him by the leg. Raoul and the drunken man hit the ground together, tumbling over each other. Raoul was able to pin the man down and punch him in the face, knocking him out. Raoul jumped to his feet, his strong muscles taut, ready to fight the man's criminal companion. He furrowed his brow when his eyes connected with those of the other man. Raoul was puzzled by the smile on his face. Raoul looked down at the man's hands and saw that he was grasping a bloody knife. It was then that Raoul felt the pain in his side. He reached his hand down, brought it close to his face and looked at his fingers. The blood drained from his face when he saw the warm, red liquid drip from his hands. The world slowly faded to black as Raoul fell to his knees.
Raoul closed his eyes and let out one last breath, "Christine."
