everywhere. He knows that, however long the Regent may remain in hiding among the peasants, she must be taken at last. Then, what a chance for him to show his royal clemency! Put her to death? Oh no! Keep her in prison? Oh no! He will release her to the tune of the plaudits of Europe. He will show how firmly his throne is founded on the love of his people. She harm him after that? Never! Even she herself must feel grateful to such a magnanimous conqueror.' There was a pause. 'Where shall I embark?' said the duchess. Lucien sat aghast. Something impossible seemed to him to have happened. The marquis betrayed no surprise, nor did Berryer. 'Off the coast of Brittany, Madame. A boat lies in readiness. Sorin, the miller, is taking some sacks of flour to Nantes-if you did not object to go hidden among them? I myself will meet you at le Magazin in three hours' time.' 'I cannot read,' she said, brushing her hand across her eyes. She tore the paper in two. At le Magazin, then? Farewell, sir.' Lucien delayed a little outside the door. He heard her hurrying to and fro, up and down, hither and thither like a caged animal, distracted. Unable to bear it longer, he ran down after the others. Poor lady!' the silver voice was saying. She has stuff enough in her head and her heart to make twenty Kings. Walter Scott is the real culprit. He ought to be hung!' CHAPTER XIX JEANNE BECOMES A POSTMAN HEROES and heroines are, after all, not uncommon; but it is a question whether, if they always knew beforehand the price to be paid for heroism, there would be quite so many. Often, as she sat by herself in dull emptiness, Mademoiselle Jeanne was tempted to wish that she had not delivered that message to Lucien. He might have gone even had she refused; but then he might not. Threatening rumours were abroad, hints of red trouble to come. If he would but return! Blum, anxious and annoyed himself, wrought her anxiety still higher. She said no word to keep him back when he informed her that Lucien, by the agency of the marquis, had become involved in a Royalist plot, and announced that he meant to rescue the victim. It seemed to her that he had lost the influence which he once possessed; in her heart she wondered not so much that he had lost as that he ever gained it. Still, if he could bring back Lucien, well and good! If not, other means must be tried. She had not bargained for war when she sent him off. About this time she received an order for a large piece of Church embroidery, from a convent in the neighbourhood of the town of Nantes. If she chose to execute it, she would have to go thither in the course of a few days, that she might do so under the superintendence of the nuns of the Visitation. They had not room for her in the convent, but they undertook to find a lodging and to pay her well. She did not hesitate to accept this offer. Nantes! That was the address which the marquis had given her. The Legitimists were known to be gathering round Nantes. Mademoiselle Jeanne was not imaginative, but she was able, as the vulgar say, to put two and two together. Two and two made four in her reckoning, not forty nor four houndred as with the fanciful. Blum often marvelled at her correctness from this point of view. Her power to calculate had the force of intuition. Lucien, whose intuitions came fast enough, never paid any heed to it, but Blum had proved the wisdom of the oracle again and again. Thus, on his return to Lyons, Jeanne was the first person whose aid he sought. There were factors in his experience which would, if rightly added up, afford a valuable result; he felt sure of that; but he was not strong in mental arithmetic. She received him with greater cordiality than usual; she welcomed him with all her heart, as she would have welcomed any beggar who could give her news from the West. He did not know-how could he?-that perfect candour may be more deceptive than guile. He told her how, with some difficulty, he had traced Lucien to la Preuille; how he had not been allowed inside the house, though a large company seemed to be gathered there. He narrated at great length all the arguments he had used-the arguments which must have induced any reasonable man to return. 'And then I said' followed And then I said' many times. It was only too evident that Lucien had not returned. 'And then,' said Jeanne at last, in a voice that led the way onward, 'you were interrupted?' A very intelligent lady, whose knowledge of his opinions was astonishing, carried him off, and set him down at the principal inn of Bressuire. He could not deny that he had enjoyed the drive; she entered into all his ideas. They walked in the garden of the inn together, so that he might develop them to the fullest extent. Towards the middle of the afternoon she left him to take some rest, advising him, before he followed her example, to go and talk to a gardener who was cutting cabbages at some little distance. 'You never can tell where you may make a convert,' said she. You talk so well and so convincingly that you have only to be heard to be believed.' In accordance with her desire, he had talked long and convincingly to the gardener, and he believed that he made a convert, for in the end the man had nothing to say. As he was retracing his steps, a small bright object shone on the path before him. He picked it up; it was a silver pencil-case, such as a lady uses. 'I believe you have one yourself, Mademoiselle Jeanne?' 'Yes, yes; go on!' He meant to return it to the lady, but she had departed. The people at the inn affected complete ignorance. Yes, she had been there, sure enough. She rested her horses, that was all; and she was gone. Whither? Who could say? She employed her own coachman; she left no message. They had never done any business for her; her name was unknown. 'You kept the pencil-case?' Jeanne said. 'Are there? I never saw them.' "" M. C."' 'Well, what of that?' "M. C."-Marie-Caroline. You were driving with the duchess of Berry.' Blum pondered her words for a moment. 'The cunning cat!' said he. She never could have cared about the tariff. Her politics are altogether opposed to law and order and material progress. Why, she must have been deceiving me the whole time!' Jeanne thought it probable, but did not say so. 'I shall reveal the plot to Thiers at once; he is the only man. She must be apprehended; she is a desperate woman, prepared to deluge France with blood.' 'After all,' Jeanne said, these may not be her initials. They may stand for Marthe-Charlotte, you know.' Blum shook his head. 'It is known that she is about in those parts.' 'What was the lady like?' 'Oh, just like any other woman!' Jeanne longed to shake him. Why have men got eyes?' she said. 'To see with,' said Blum. Irony was lost on him, as on all people who are sincere. He could not see, because he saw only en bloc; and Lucien could not see, because he saw only in detail. Jeanne and the duchess were not made like that. |