no chance of meeting anyone in the passage. I had nothing to do while I waited, and I opened that box and read the poem. And then you came! That likeness-I could have killed you. I know what poets are. I said the thing I knew would hurt you most.' 'I wished that I had died before I heard it,' said Lucien, smiling. 'Ah!' she cried, 'can you forgive?' He knelt at her feet. 'Do you know who it was that sent you to me?' 'No.' 'The marquis de Civrac. I told him you were like my saint. He had never noticed it.' Lucien started up. 'Where is he?' I do not know. Not here. There was a letter from him with the snuff-box, when I opened it at la Preuille. He said that he had reason to connect it with your birth, but he gave no explanation, and he declared that you could give none. If I withdrew from a struggle which must end in bloodshed, nothing more would occur. If, on the other hand, I persisted, inquiries would be made which might divide the party of the Legitimists for ever.' 'I would rather live in ignorance for the rest of my life than ask a single question which might cause you uneasiness. If I had only known before!' 'I could not speak alone with you. There were too many watchful eyes at la Preuille. That is why I pretended that I had not received the packet. Tell me, do you know anything of the circumstances of your birth?' Lucien told her the New Year's Eve tale, in which, that night, he hardly believed himself. She shook her head. 'I can make nothing of this. It sounds like a mere mystification.' 'And now you will return to Lyons?' Nothing shall drive me from your side.' 'We will leave the marquis to draw his own conclusions,' she said, with a gleam of mischief. 'I had no suspicion that it was he who sent me. I will write.' 'You cannot communicate with him at present. We do not know where he is. It would not be safe to send letters. My own belief is, that he will come himself. He is a loyal heart. He would give his life to prevent me from endangering mine; but when the first shot is fired, he will fly to us. He is no coward. Good-night, Monsieur Sylvestre. Here come the Grooms of the Chamber. My bed must be most beautifully made, Monsieur de Rezé. I have never had such strong housemaids. And now I come to think of it, you have taken nearly an hour.' 'You must forgive us, Madame,' de Monti said, bowing low. 'We have never made beds in our lives before. Every one of us had a different theory.' CHAPTER XV THE WANDERINGS OF THE LITTLE GENTLEMAN 'HUSH!' said de Monti, as Lucien came down the creaking rungs of the ladder. She is still asleep. She had a bad night.' 6 She is not ill?' 'No; it was those brutes of cabbages. I wonder you did not hear them. We had to wake her.' 'Why?' 'Oh, a letter urging her to countermand the Order for the 24th.' 'What is the Order for the 24th?' Only an Order for all the Royalists in France to rise that is all.' 'Hurrah!' cried Lucien, flinging up his cap. 'Hurrah!' cried René. 'I always knew you were one of the true men. No cabbage, eh, de Monti? What answer did she send the villains?' 'Simply these words: "The Order for the 24th remains unchanged."' 'Bravo! And we?' 'We stay here. It is important for us to know that d'Autichamp has countersigned the Order before we meet those cabbages and confound them. He holds. the left bank of the Loire. My uncle has sent the sacristan of Montbert to Nantes for letters.' 'To Nantes? I wish I had known that he was going,' said Lucien. 'He will return to-night. You can see him then.' In the kitchen Marie was preparing sour milk and sour bread for breakfast. 'That little gentleman is not a gentleman at all; he is a lady, hein?' she said shrewdly, peering up into Lucien's face. 'What makes you think he is a lady, Marie?' Marie shrugged her shoulders and replied that she had eyes in her head-which statement being incontrovertible, Lucien made a lame remark to the effect that the little gentleman dressed like a gentleman. 'He is, I think, a countess,' Marie rejoined; and Lucien began to have a poor opinion of his gifts for conspiracy, and felt thankful to see de Charette enter. By the end of the day Madame had recovered her strength and was merry as ever. 'How good to think that we shall all sleep soundly the whole night through!' she exclaimed, when they had finished supper. 'Do not say so, Madame! You tempt Fate. Here comes our messenger.' 'Bring him in,' she cried, with a sudden assumption of dignity that sent Lucien flying from the kitchen turned Audience Chamber. He waited anxiously, sitting on the lowest rung of the ladder, until de Monti half opened the door and beckoned to him. 'A pretty affair, this!' he said. 'The sacristan has been arrested half a mile from Nantes. He may have had news of d'Autichamp.' 'And all my clothes that he was bringing with him!' cried Madame. My riding-habit, my hat, my beauti ful white feathers-all my linen, too; I could cry!' and she laughed instead. 'He may have had letters,' de Charette said gravely. 'We must not stay here. I have taken counsel with Jean. He thinks we had better go to Chaimare. It is a desolate place enough. They are good people, well affected. I know farmer Deniaud. Can you be ready in ten minutes?' 'In five!' she said; and was as good as her word. The owners of la Chaimare were asleep when they arrived, but the burly farmer recognised de Charette and his nephew at once, and asked no questions concerning the rest. 'The little gentleman looks tired,' said he. as well sleep with the others in the outhouse. do me the honour of accepting my room. little gentleman! You are in my house. do as I say.' She took his hands in both of hers. 'I may He will Nonsense, You must 'No,' she said; and again there was in her manner that quick, irresistible dignity. Let no one be disturbed. I want a bundle of straw; that is all.' The farmer led the way into an outhouse, divided only by a barrel and a rotten beam or two from his cattle-shed. The floor was covered with straw, and dry, except where the water oozed through holes in the roof. The walk had been long and wet, and cries and gleaming signals had alarmed the little party more than once as they crossed the wide heath. The duchess flung herself down as if she could not stand a moment longer. The lantern light fell full on her white face. |