"The place is like a city of the dead," said the Prefect, drawing rein in front of the salon windows. "See if you can find any one, Simon, and ask for Monsieur de la Mariniere."
One of the gendarmes dismounted. Wearing the ordinary dress of these civil soldiers, he yet differed in some indefinable way from his two companions. He had the keen and wary look of a clever dog; his eyes were everywhere.
"City of the dead, eh! Plenty of footprints of the living!" he muttered, as he turned back towards the outbuildings and noticed the trampled sand.
Marie Gigot saw him coming, and dived back into her kitchen.
"Ah! it is that demon!" she said to herself. "Holy Virgin, defend us! I thought that wretch was gone. All of them in the dining-room--the stable full of their horses, and no one there but that ignorant Tobie! We are done for at last, that"s sure. Eh! there"s Monsieur Angelot talking to him. But of course it is hopeless. That must be the Prefect. To be sure they say he is better than the last--and it may be only a friendly visit--and why should not my master have his friends to breakfast? But then, again, what brings that Simon, that Chouan-catcher, as they call him! Why, Gigot told me of half-a-dozen fellows who had sworn to shoot him, and not a hundred miles from here."
She ran to the door again and looked out. Angelot, cool and quiet, had come out of the stable and met the gendarme face to face, returning his salutation with indifference.
"It is Monsieur le Prefet? Certainly, my uncle is at home," he said. "I am not sure that he is in the house," and he walked on towards the group of hors.e.m.e.n.
"Not in the house!" breathed the cook. "They are hiding, then! They must have heard or seen them coming--ah, how stupid I am! I saw mademoiselle run past the window."
Angelot came bareheaded, smiling, to represent his uncle in welcoming the Prefect to Les Chouettes. He would not have been his father"s son if the droll side of the situation had not struck him. He thought it exquisite, though he was sorry for his uncle"s annoyance. The Chouan guests had irritated him, and that they should lose their breakfast seemed a happy retribution, though he would have done all he could to save them from further penalties. Angelot looked up at the Prefect, his handsome sleepy eyes alight with laughter.
"Do my uncle the pleasure of coming in, monsieur," he said. "He will be here immediately; he has been out shooting. It is exactly breakfast time."
"We shall be very grateful for your uncle"s hospitality; we have had a long ride in the heat," said the Prefect.
His eyes as they met Angelot"s were very keen, as well as very kind and gentle. He was a singularly good-looking man, and sat his horse gracefully. His manners were those of the great world; he was one of the n.o.blest and most popular of the men of old family who had rallied to the Empire, believing that Napoleon"s genius and the glory of France were one.
"Monsieur le General," he said, turning to his companion, "let me present Monsieur Ange de la Mariniere, the son of Monsieur Urbain de la Mariniere, one of my truest friends in the department."
The rough and mocking voice that answered--"Happy to make his acquaintance"--brought the colour into Angelot"s face as he bowed.
The Prefect, who for reasons of his own watched the lad curiously, saw the change, the cloud that darkened those frank looks suddenly, and understood it pretty well. The new military commander, risen from the ranks in every sense, had nothing to justify his position except courage, a talent for commanding, and devotion to the Emperor. That he was not now fighting in Spain was due partly to quarrels with other generals, partly to wounds received in the last Austrian campaign, which unfitted him for the time for active service. In sending him to this Royalist province of the West, Napoleon might have aimed at providing the Prefect with an effective foil to his own character and connections.
The great Emperor by no means despised the trick of setting his servants to watch one another.
One personal peculiarity this General possessed, which had both helped and hindered him in his career. As Monsieur des Barres said, he was exceedingly like his master. A taller, heavier man, his face and head were a coa.r.s.e likeness of Napoleon"s. There were the lines of beauty without the sweetness, the strength without the genius, the ingrained selfishness unveiled by any mask, even of policy. General Ratoneau was repulsive where Napoleon was attractive. He had fought under Napoleon from the beginning, and had risen by his own efforts, disliked by all his superiors, even by the Emperor, to whom the strange likeness did not recommend him. But it had a great effect on the men who fought under him. Though he was a brutal leader, they were ready to follow him anywhere, and had been known to call him _le gros caporal_, so strong and obvious was this likeness. He was a splendid soldier, though ill-tempered, cruel, and overbearing. He was a man to be reckoned with, and so the amiable Prefect found. Having himself plenty of scruples, plenty of humanity, and a horror of civil war, he found a colleague with none of these difficult to manage. Nothing, for instance, was further from the Prefect"s wish than to spy upon his Royalist neighbours and to drive them to desperation. The very word _Chouan_ represented to General Ratoneau a wild beast to be trapped or hunted.
Angelot looked at this man, and from the first glance hated him. There was something insolent in the stare of those bold dark eyes, which were bloodshot, too, matching the redness and coa.r.s.eness of the face; something mocking, threatening, as much as to say: "Very fine, young fellow, but I don"t believe a word of it. I believe you, baby as you are, and your father, and your uncle, and the whole boiling of you, are a set of traitors to the Emperor and ought to be hanged in a row on those trees of yours. So take care how you behave, young man!"
The Prefect read Angelot"s looks, and saw what kind of instant impression the General had made. No girl, at the moment, could have shown her feelings more plainly. Angelot might have said aloud, "What odious wretch is this!" such proud disgust was written on his face. But he recovered himself instantly, and again laughter was very near the surface as he begged these new guests to dismount. For the outwitting and disappointing of such a horrible official was even a richer piece of fun than the disturbance of the poor Chouans at their breakfast table.
Nothing could have been more agreeable than the manner in which Monsieur Joseph received his unexpected visitors. They were hardly in the salon when he came lightly along the hall, step and air those of a much younger man. All smiles, he shook hands affectionately with the Prefect and bowed ceremoniously to the General. They had done him the greatest honour, caused him the keenest delight, by this friendly visit of surprise. Only he must beg them to pardon the deficiencies of his household. He really could not say what sort of breakfast they were likely to find. Plenty, he hoped--for his nephew had come in from a long morning"s sport, half-an-hour ago, and the cook knew how to a measure a young man"s appet.i.te. But as to quality--he could only throw himself on the kind indulgence of his friends.
"As for me," said the General, "I am as hungry as a wolf, and I could eat a lump of brown bread, and wash it down with a quart of sour wine."
"Ah, ah! a true soldier, monsieur!" said Monsieur Joseph, and clapped his hands gently.
"My uncle"s wine is not sour, as Monsieur le General will find," said Angelot.
The General replied, with a scowl and a shrug, "I don"t suppose you mean to compare your wine from this poor soil with the wine of the South, for instance."
"Ah, pardon, but I do!" cried the boy. "This very morning, our farmer on the _landes_ gave me a gla.s.s of wine, white sparkling wine, which you would hardly match in France, except, of course, in the real champagne country. And even as to that, our wine is purer. It tastes of sunshine and of the white grapes of the vineyard. There is nothing better."
"Nothing better for children, I dare say," said General Ratoneau, with a laugh. "Men like something stronger than sunshine and grapes. So will you, one of these days."
Angelot looked hard at the man for a moment. He sat squarely, twisting his whip in his hands, on one of Monsieur Joseph"s old Louis Quinze chairs, which seemed hardly fit to bear his weight. The delicate atmosphere of old France was all about him. Angelot and his uncle were incarnations of it, even in their plain shooting clothes; and the Prefect, the Baron de Mauves, was worthy in looks and manners of the old regime from which he sprang. The other man was a son of the Revolution and of a butcher at Ma.r.s.eilles. With his glittering uniform, his look of a coa.r.s.e Roman, he was the very type of military tyranny at its worst, without even the good manners of past days to soften the frank insolence of a soldier.
"Voila l"Empire! I wish my father could see him!" Angelot thought.
Monsieur Joseph looked at his nephew. His sweet smile had faded, a sudden shadow of anxiety taking its place. How would Angelot bear with this man? Would he remember that in spite of all provocation he must be treated civilly? The Prefect also glanced up a little nervously at Angelot as he stood. Had the handsome, attractive boy any share at all of his father"s wisdom and faultless temper?
Angelot was conscious of both these warnings. He answered the little uncle"s with a smile, and said easily--"It is possible--I cannot tell.
As to the wine--I will ask your opinion after breakfast, monsieur."
The Prefect"s face cleared up suddenly. Angelot was a worthy son of his father.
"It is quite unnecessary, my dear friend," he said to Monsieur Joseph, "for you to attempt to alarm us about our breakfast. Your cook can work miracles. This is not the first time, remember, that I have taken you by surprise."
"And you are always welcome, my dear Baron," Monsieur Joseph answered gently, but a little dreamily.
"I shall now have a fresh attraction in this country," the Prefect said.
"With your cousin, De Sainfoy, at Lancilly, your neighbourhood will indeed leave nothing to be desired."
"Herve is an agreeable man," said Monsieur Joseph. "I have not seen him for many years; I do not know his wife and family. My brother is charmed to welcome them all."
"Of course, and they must feel that they owe everything to him. Monsieur your brother is a benefactor to his country and species," said the Prefect, with a smile at Angelot. "Madame de Sainfoy is an exceedingly pretty woman. She made quite a sensation at Court in the spring, and I should think there will not be much difficulty in her getting the appointment I understand she wishes--lady in waiting to the Empress.
Only they say that the Emperor does not quite trust De Sainfoy--finds him a little half-hearted."
"That is possible," said Monsieur Joseph, gently.
"Well, it is a pity," said the Prefect. "If you accept the new regime at all, you should do it loyally."
"My cousin has a son fighting in Spain. That ought to be placed to his credit."
"And no doubt it is. His daughter, too, may do something. There is only one grown up, and she has not been brought much into society--her father"s fault, they say; he has ideas of his own about marrying her.
But I am telling you what you know already?"
"Not at all, monsieur. I have heard nothing of it. When my cousins live at Lancilly, the family councils may include me; so far they have not done so. I did not even realise that Mademoiselle Helene was old enough to be married. And what match is arranged for her?"
"None that I know of. Her father"s action has been negative, not positive, I understand. He has simply refused to consider one or two suggested marriages, either of which would have been good politically."
"Reasons of birth, I suppose," said Monsieur Joseph. "He has my cordial sympathy."
The Prefect coughed; the General sc.r.a.ped his chair; Angelot nearly laughed aloud.
"You will find it very agreeable to have your cousins at Lancilly," the Prefect said, looking at him kindly.
"I don"t know, monsieur," Angelot answered. "Young girls are hardly companions for me."
"Indeed! As to that--" began the Prefect, still smiling as he looked at the lad; but his remark was cut short and his attention pleasantly distracted.
Gigot, with unshaken solemnity, set open the doors for the second time that morning.
"Monsieur est servi!"