"We choose, we are chosen,
How it often doesn't match
I follow you like a shadow
I'm getting used to the mismatch."
"Black and White" (We choose, we are chosen...) - a romance and to the movie "Big break between classes" directed by Alexey Korenev.
It was already evening when Gaston finally found the apartment of that lecherous marquis. The lantern man had lit the street lamps in the streets, and the lights were on in the houses, too. The man stood in front of a two-story house and stared at the light in its windows, trying to guess where the bedroom was. There were people flickering in the windows, probably servants, so Gaston leaned against the wall so he couldn't be seen from the window. Gradually, the light in the windows began to fade and the street was plunged into darkness.
The man took a deep breath and climbed up the drainpipe to the second floor, clinging to the window sill and the potholes in the stone wall of the house. He had no weapons, Paul and Jeannette had searched him well, but Gaston thought to make do with improvised means and his own hands. There was no other way out anyway.
The house was already asleep when the hunter slipped his hand into the ajar window, opened it wider, and stepped into the dark room. It was something like a living room; armchairs and a fireplace were visible. On a table stood a vase of flowers. It was only at that moment that Gaston realized how thirsty he was - he hadn't eaten or drunk since he woke up. The man took the flowers out of the vase, throwing them on the floor, and drank its contents. It felt much better.
He looked out into the hallway, opening the door slightly. There was another door not far away, with a servant standing next to it. This was most likely the marquis' bedroom, and the servant was standing there to keep Belle from escaping.
Gaston shut the door quietly and searched with his eyes for some sort of weapon, pulled out the drawers of the desk. But there was nothing. Then he climbed out the window again and, pressing himself as close to the wall as he could and clinging to the smallest of the ledges, moved to the next window. There was the sound of a blow and something fell. Gaston, forgetting his caution, looked through the window, which was faintly lighted by the flame of candles.
He saw the slender figure of Belle, in a sumptuous dress, standing over the old man lying on the carpet. In her right hand was a statuette.
Gaston knocked at the window, and the girl turned around. There was horror in her eyes. The man signaled for her to open the window and Belle, dropping the statuette, slowly pulled back the latch.
Gaston climbed inside the room and Belle hugged him so tightly that he was even in pain:
"Lord, I have killed him!" she exclaimed in a loud whisper. "He's dead."
The hunter freed himself from her arms, and leaned over to the man lying there.
"Monsignor, are you all right?" was heard outside the door.
"I'm fine, you idiot, leave me alone!" Gaston replied quickly, trying to change his voice so that it rattled like an old man's. It was unclear what had worked, maybe the threat in his voice or maybe he had somehow managed to make it sound like him, but the servant fell silent.
The hunter touched the marquis' throat, feeling for a pulse.
"Don't worry, he'll live, Belle. Now we have to get out of here."
They both looked down. It would be much harder for the two of them to get down. Gaston looked at Belle again - she was wearing a rather gaudy dress with open shoulders and a large neckline on her chest, and the skirt was very puffy.
"Yes, you're right, I won't go down in it," she said, and began to take it off with some exasperation. - I want to peel off my skin, how disgusting it all is to me," she shuddered, and finally took off the dress, finding herself only in the underwear.
Gaston threw the dress down - there wasn't any other, anyway - and tore the sheets, trying to tear so as not to make too much noise. He made some sort of rope from the sheets and tied it around the foot of the massive bed, tied the other end around his wife's waist, and threw the rope down.
"Don't be afraid," he said to Belle as he helped her out the window. "Just hold on, and put your feet against the wall. It's easy, it's not very high."
It didn't sound scary, but Gaston almost died of anxiety as Belle climbed down while he held the makeshift rope. But all ended safely and then he climbed down himself. He threw Belle's cloak over his shoulders, picked up his dress, and they ran.
Faster, faster! They ran through the tangled alleys for a while, then Belle put her dress back on, and they ran again. They ran almost all night, stopping occasionally to catch their breath. It was hardly because the Marquis's apartment was far from the center of town, rather it was always more likely that Gaston had gotten lost. He was completely useless in this city. It was colder by morning, but dawn gave more direction, and they reached the road they had used to enter the city.
When they were a little way from Toulon, Gaston put his arm around Belle's naked shoulders:
"Belle, tell me, how are you? Did they do anything to you? Were you very frightened?
She put her arms around his waist and shook her head:
"No, no, they only fed me and changed me... In that awful dress. I told myself, of course, that I wouldn't fight back... But I just couldn't. I just couldn't and I hit him."
He hugged her even tighter and began kissing her face, her eyes, her lips, her cheeks.
"Oh, Belle, baby. Forget everything, forget it, forget it. Everything will be all right. We're together."
She pulled back a little, looked at him:
"They beat you, didn't they?" The girl frowned, touching the bruises on his chest. - I told you not to argue with them. Look what they did to you," she stroked his chest as if trying to chase away the pain.
"It's okay, Belle," Gaston took a deep breath from her touch. "No one hit me, just Jeannette kicked me a couple times. Come on, we need to go farther away, I'm afraid they might be looking for us."
They walked as fast as possible to get to the nearest village as quickly as possible. Gaston was dizzy from hunger and thirst.
"Damn, I wish we had a horse," Gaston cursed. "Those bastards sold it to the slaughterhouse."
"Oh, Gaston," Belle said so softly and squeezed his hand so gently that he realized she understood.
"It's okay, it's only a horse. But they took everything away, I don't have a knife or arrows or even a flint!" He turned around to see if they were being chased.
A village appeared ahead, and Gaston and Belle breathed a sigh of relief.
"We could ask to stay in a house for the night," Gaston reasoned. "I can chop wood in a few houses, for instance, and you can help with the chores. We need food and clothing for a change, and at least a flint. A night in the woods without a fire is a sure way to get eaten by wolves."
"Gaston, we can make it a little easier," said Belle.
"How?"
"Don't laugh. In the novels I read, a girl often ran away from home with her jewelry," Belle lifted her dainty hand, a bracelet of blue stones glittering on her narrow wrist. " "So, she'd sell or leave her jewelry as payment and everything was fine."
"Are you sure that's going to work?" Gaston frowned. "What if it's something out of the ordinary life, like all those h heavenly pleasures of yours? Won't they think we stole this bracelet or something like that?"
"But if Mademoiselle looks decent and her dress is appropriate for these jewels, why not?"
It sounded reasonable, so they walked over to a small stream, washed their faces, and as far as possible, cleaned their clothes. Gaston took the cloak from Belle and wrapped himself in it, hiding his remnants from his shirt. They looked quite decent. Quite decent.
Belle knocked on the door of the tidy little house. Children's laughter could be heard there, and the cabin looked safe.
"Who's there?" A stout man with a black beard came out onto the porch.
"We're coming from Toulon," Belle began. She said it was better for her to speak because young girls were less feared and she was more likely to win favor. "May I and my husband stay with you for the night? We can pay," she held out her hand and showed a bracelet on her palm.
The man looked at Belle, eyeing her from top to bottom, then looked at Gaston.
"Did you run away from daddy with your servant-lover?"
Belle blinked:
"He's not a servant, he's my husband."
"Lie more, you spoiled girl! Come here!"
The man held out his hand, but Gaston was quicker and pushed him away.
"Come on!"
They had to run into the woods, deeper so that the peasant wouldn't find them. Finally, they sat down on a fallen tree, gasping for air.
"God, I just want to go home," Belle moaned. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay. I shouldn't have listened to you in that matter..." Gatson clenched his temples with his hands and lowered his head. He was incredibly hungry.