"Oh--I am not mistaken. Marie-Anne just told us the place of rendezvous.
By running to Escorval and harnessing the cabriolet, we might be able to reach the Croix d"Arcy before this party arrive there. Your voice, which touched Lacheneur, will touch the heart of his accomplices. We will persuade these poor, misguided men to return to their homes. Come, Abbe; come quickly!"
And they departed on the run.
CHAPTER XXII
The clock in the tower of Sairmeuse was striking the hour of eight when Lacheneur and his little band of followers left the Reche.
An hour later, at the Chateau de Courtornieu, Mlle. Blanche, after finishing her dinner, ordered the carriage to convey her to Montaignac.
Since her father had taken up his abode in town they met only on Sunday; on that day either Blanche went to Montaignac, or the marquis paid a visit to the chateau.
Hence this proposed journey was a deviation from the regular order of things. It was explained, however, by grave circ.u.mstances.
It was six days since Martial had presented himself at Courtornieu; and Blanche was half crazed with grief and rage.
What Aunt Medea was forced to endure during this interval, only poor dependents in rich families can understand.
For the first three days Mlle. Blanche succeeded in preserving a semblance of self-control; on the fourth she could endure it no longer, and in spite of the breach of "_les convenances_" which it involved, she sent a messenger to Sairmeuse to inquire for Martial. Was he ill--had he gone away?
The messenger was informed that the marquis was perfectly well, but, as he spent the entire day, from early morn to dewy eve, in hunting, he went to bed every evening as soon as supper was over.
What a horrible insult! Still, she was certain that Martial, on hearing what she had done, would hasten to her to make his excuses. Vain hope!
He did not come; he did not even condescend to give one sign of life.
"Ah! doubtless he is with her," she said to Aunt Medea. "He is on his knees before that miserable Marie-Anne--his mistress."
For she had finished by believing--as is not unfrequently the case--the very calumnies which she herself had invented.
In this extremity she decided to make her father her confidant; and she wrote him a note announcing her coming.
She wished her father to compel Lacheneur to leave the country. This would be an easy matter for him, since he was armed with discretionary authority at an epoch when lukewarm devotion afforded an abundant excuse for sending a man into exile.
Fully decided upon this plan, Blanche became calmer on leaving the chateau; and her hopes overflowed in incoherent phrases, to which poor Aunt Medea listened with her accustomed resignation.
"At last I shall be rid of this shameless creature!" she exclaimed. "We will see if he has the audacity to follow her! Will he follow her? Oh, no; he dare not!"
When the carriage pa.s.sed through the village of Sairmeuse, Mlle. Blanche noticed an unwonted animation.
There were lights in every house, the saloons seemed full of drinkers, and groups of people were standing upon the public square and upon the doorsteps.
But what did this matter to Mlle. de Courtornieu! It was not until they were a mile or so from Sairmeuse that she was startled from her revery.
"Listen, Aunt Medea," she said, suddenly. "Do you hear anything?"
The poor dependent listened. Both occupants of the carriage heard shouts that became more and more distinct with each revolution of the wheels.
"Let us find out the meaning of this," said Mlle. Blanche.
And lowering one of the carriage-windows, she asked the coachman the cause of the disturbance.
"I see a great crowd of peasants on the hill; they have torches and----"
"Blessed Jesus!" interrupted Aunt Medea, in alarm.
"It must be a wedding," added the coachman, whipping up his horses.
It was not a wedding, but Lacheneur"s little band, which had been augmented to the number of about five hundred. Lacheneur should have been at the Croix d"Arcy two hours before. But he had shared the fate of most popular chiefs. When an impetus had been given to the movement he was no longer master of it.
Baron d"Escorval had made him lose twenty minutes; he was delayed four times as long in Sairmeuse. When he reached that village, a little behind time, he found the peasants scattered through the wine-shops, drinking to the success of the enterprise.
To tear them from their merry-making was a long and difficult task.
And to crown all, when they were finally induced to resume their line of march, it was impossible to persuade them to extinguish the pine knots which they had lighted to serve as torches.
Prayers and threats were alike unavailing. "They wished to see their way," they said.
Poor deluded creatures! They had not the slightest conception of the difficulties and the perils of the enterprise they had undertaken.
They were going to capture a fortified city, defended by a numerous garrison, as if they were bound on a pleasure jaunt.
Gay, thoughtless, and animated by the imperturbable confidence of a child, they were marching along, arm in arm, singing patriotic songs.
On horseback, in the centre of the band, M. Lacheneur felt his hair turning white with anguish.
Would not this delay ruin everything? What would the others, who were waiting at the Croix d"Arcy, think! What were they doing at this very moment?
"Onward! onward!" he repeated.
Maurice, Chanlouineau, Jean, Marie-Anne, and about twenty of the old soldiers of the Empire, understood and shared Lacheneur"s despair. They knew the terrible danger they were incurring, and they, too, repeated:
"Faster! Let us march faster!"
Vain exhortation! It pleased these people to go slowly.
Suddenly the entire band stopped. Some of the peasants, chancing to look back, had seen the lamps of Mlle. de Courtornieu"s carriage gleaming in the darkness.
It came rapidly onward, and soon overtook them. The peasants recognized the coachman"s livery, and greeted the vehicle with shouts of derision.
M. de Courtornieu, by his avariciousness, had made even more enemies than the Duc de Sairmeuse; and all the peasants who thought they had more or less reason to complain of his extortions were delighted at this opportunity to frighten him.
For, that they were not thinking of vengeance, is conclusively proved by the sequel.
Hence great was their disappointment when, on opening the carriage-door, they saw within the vehicle only Mlle. Blanche and Aunt Medea, who uttered the most piercing shrieks.
But Mlle. de Courtornieu was a brave woman.