The actor listened to him intently and in silence; his face, usually humorous, expressive of deep and earnest thought.
"Now what do you advise?" asked Tournay, as he pushed back his plate and emptied the last of the wine into Gaillard"s gla.s.s.
"What plan have you?" questioned Gaillard.
"I mean to take her away from here at all hazards," answered Tournay.
"Quite right," nodded Gaillard.
"But I can"t very well pick her up and carry her off bodily," continued Tournay. "And if I did she would be quite capable of surrendering herself into the hands of the first committee in the first town where they stop us to examine our pa.s.sport."
"Then we must induce her to go of her own free will."
"Which she will not do," replied Tournay gloomily.
"It seems to me," said Gaillard, speaking slowly, while he held his gla.s.s of wine to the light and inspected it minutely, "that if some one should approach Mademoiselle de Rochefort, purporting to come from some of her friends who have already gone abroad, and should say he was sent secretly to conduct her to them, she would be willing to go with him."
"Unless she suspected him to be an impostor, she might possibly go,"
replied Tournay.
"He will have to convince her that he is not an impostor, and after a night spent in the chateau alone she is more likely to believe in him,"
was Gaillard"s reply. "How about Gardin," he asked suddenly. "Do you antic.i.p.ate any further trouble from that quarter?"
"I hardly think so," replied Tournay. "I shall go back to the chateau at once and remain in the vicinity all night unknown to Mademoiselle de Rochefort. See if you cannot procure a carriage here suitable for a long journey. Then come up the chateau road. I shall be in waiting for you at the entrance to the park. We will confer together as to a plan of action to be carried out at daylight."
"Good," replied Gaillard; "I will set about my part of the work at once."
The two men rose from the table; Gaillard went to the inn stables and Tournay mounted his horse and rode toward the chateau.
He had not made half the distance between the village and the chateau when he heard a footstep crunch on the gravel of the road, and reined in his horse just as the figure of a man crept by him.
"Who is there?" cried Tournay, clicking the hammer of his pistol.
"A good citizen," was the reply in a timid voice.
"Father, is it you?" exclaimed Tournay, springing from his horse and approaching the figure. "Is all well at the chateau?"
"It is my son, Robert," cried the old man. "I did not recognize your voice until after I had spoken; but I am no good citizen of your present disorderly Republic."
"Is all well at the chateau?" repeated Robert Tournay.
"Well? How can we all be well when the doors are broken in and the furniture strewn about the place in pieces? Can I call all well when"--
"Mademoiselle Edme?" interrupted Robert, with impatience, "how about her?"
"She has gone," said Matthieu Tournay.
"Gone!" cried Robert, clutching his father by the shoulder. "Gone--how and where?"
"You need not be alarmed for her safety," said the old man; "she is with Agatha,--a brave, clever girl, capable of anything. They set out this very night to seek a refuge with some relatives of Agatha who will keep them in safety."
"And you permitted them to go?" demanded the younger Tournay, almost shaking his father in his excitement.
"Permitted them? Yes, and encouraged them. I would myself have gone with them if I had not feared that my feebleness would impede rather than a.s.sist their flight. As it is, you need have no apprehension; when Agatha undertakes a thing she carries it through, and mademoiselle also is resolute and strong-willed. They will be safe enough, I warrant."
"Where did they go?" asked Robert.
"I"ve promised not to tell," said the old man doggedly.
"Father," exclaimed young Tournay, "do you not see how important it is that I should know where they have gone? If you have any affection for mademoiselle you will tell me. Cannot you trust your own son?"
"Will you promise not to prevent their going?" replied the old man.
Tournay thought for a moment. "Yes."
"To La Haye, in the province of Touraine, near the boundary of La Vendee."
"Will they reach there in safety?" inquired Tournay, half to himself.
"You need have no alarm on that score. They have disguised themselves as peasants; no one will be able to recognize them. Look!" he added suddenly, pointing in the direction of the chateau.
A tongue of flame shot into the night air, then another and another followed in quick succession.
"Is the chateau on fire?" cried Robert in consternation.
As if in answer the flames burst fiercely forth, and the n.o.ble old pile stood revealed to them by the light of the fire that consumed it.
The surrounding landscape became brilliant as day, and the great oaks of the park waved their bare branches frantically in the direction of the edifice they had sheltered so many years; seeming to sigh pityingly as one turret after another fell crashing to the ground.
Young Tournay looked around to see if any of the attacking party were still lurking in the vicinity; but with the exception of himself and his father, no human eye was witness of the burning.
"Gardin"s men must have ignited that during their drunken invasion of the wine-cellar," he exclaimed excitedly. Then in the next breath he added, "Thank G.o.d! Mademoiselle has been spared this sight."
Old Tournay stood looking at the conflagration in silence; then turning away with a sigh, he said simply, "There goes the only home I have ever known; where my father lived before me and where you were born, Robert.
I must now find a new place to pa.s.s what few days of life remain to me."
Tournay laid his hand on his father"s arm. "Will you come with me to Paris?" he asked.
"No, no," replied his father. "I am not in sympathy with Paris, Robert, nor with your ways. I don"t understand them, boy. It may be all right for you. I know you are a good son, you have always been that, but I shall find a shelter in La Thierry. None will molest an old man like me."
Leading his horse by the bridle, Tournay walked back to the village with his father. On the way they were met by Gaillard, who had seen the flames and had guessed their meaning.
Robert Tournay explained the situation to him as they all went back to the inn. Greatly in need of rest, Robert threw himself down to wait until the morrow.
They were up with the dawn, when Gaillard had a new suggestion to offer.
"You must return at once to Paris, my friend, for you must arrive there before Gardin. You will need all the influence of your own military position and the aid of your most powerful friends to enable you to meet the charges that man will bring against you for frustrating the arrest.
I will try to find mademoiselle at La Haye, and will meet you at our lodgings as soon as possible."