CHAPTER XI: Free.

  It was late at night before Blois was reached, and having alighted at theAigle d'Or they engaged a private room.

  "Even the Duke of Chateaurouge will be satisfied," Ronald said, "that hisschemes have failed, and that no more can be done just at present. Itwill be a bitter blow to him when those scoundrels, on their return toParis, report their utter failure, for he must have considered itimpossible that we could escape from the toils he had laid for us. I onlywish that we had clear evidence that he is the author of these attempts.If so, I would go straight with Marshal Saxe and lay an accusationagainst him before the king; but however certain we may feel about it, wehave really nothing to connect him with the affair, and it would bemadness to accuse a king's favourite unless one could prove absolutelythe truth of what one says. However, I hope some day that I shall geteven with him. It will not be my fault if I do not."

  That night Ronald and his mother debated what would be the best way toproceed in the morning, and finally they agreed that Malcolm shouldpresent himself at the prison with the order of release, and that theyshould remain at the hotel, to which Malcolm should bring Colonel Leslie,after breaking to him the news that his wife and son were both awaitinghim. The shock, in any case, of sudden liberty, would be a severe one,and the meeting with his attached comrade would act as a preparation forthat with his wife.

  Mother and son sat hand in hand after hearing the carriage drive off withMalcolm next morning. In the hours they had spent together they had cometo know each other, and the relationship had become a real one. They hadscarce been able to make out each other's features at their midnightmeeting on the terrace, and at that meeting, rejoiced as they both were,there was still a feeling of strangeness between them. Now they knew eachother as they were, and both were well satisfied. The countess was lessstrange to Ronald than he was to her. Malcolm had already described herto him as he knew her eighteen years before, and the reality agreedclosely with the ideal that Ronald had pictured to himself, except thatshe was younger and brighter. For in thinking of her he had told himselfover and over again that she would have grown much older, that her hairmight have turned gray with grief and trouble, and her spirit beenaltogether broken.

  She on her part had been able to form no idea as to what the infant shehad last seen would have grown up, and was not even sure that he was inexistence. She had hoped that if he had lived he would have grown up likehis father, and although she now saw but slight resemblance between them,she was indeed well satisfied with her son.

  He was not, she thought, as handsome as his father, but he bade fair tosurpass him in strength and stature. She was delighted with his manlybearing; and when he laughed he reminded her of her husband, and shethought that she read in his gray eye and firm mouth a steadfastness anddepth of character equal to his. They spoke but little now. Both were tooanxious, Ronald for his mother's sake rather than his own. He wasprepared to find this unknown father a man broken down by his years ofcaptivity; but although his mother said that she too was prepared forgreat changes, he could not but think that the reality would be a sadshock to her. In little over an hour the carriage drove into thecourtyard.

  "Be brave, mother," Ronald said, as he felt the hand he held in his owntremble violently. "You must be calm for his sake."

  Steps were heard approaching. The door opened, and Malcolm entered with aman leaning on his arm. The countess with a cry of joy sprang forward,and the next moment was clasped in her husband's arms.

  "At last, my love, at last!" she said.

  Ronald drew aside to the window to leave his father and mother to enjoythe first rapture of their meeting undisturbed, while Malcolm slippedquietly from the room again.

  "Why, Amelie," Leslie said at last, holding her at arms' length that hemight look the better at her, "you are scarce changed. It does not seemto me that you are five years older than when I saw you last, and yetMalcolm tells me that you too have been a prisoner. How much my love hascost you, dear! No, you are scarce changed, while I have become an oldman--my hair is as white as snow, and I am so crippled with rheumatismI can scarce move my limbs."

  "You are not so much changed, Angus. Your hair is white and your face isvery pale; but you are not so much changed. If I have suffered for yourlove, dear, what have you suffered for mine! I have been a prisoner in away, but I had a certain amount of freedom in my cage, while you--" Andshe stopped.

  "Yes, it has been hard," he said; "but I kept up my spirits, Amelie. Inever lost the hope that some day we should be reunited."

  "And now, Angus, here is our boy, to whom we owe our liberty and the joyof this meeting. You may well be proud of such a son."

  "I am proud," Leslie said as Ronald advanced, and he took him in hisarms. "God bless you, my boy. You have performed well nigh a miracle.Malcolm has been telling me of you. Call him in again. It is right thathe to whom you owe so much should share in our happiness."

  Ronald at once fetched Malcolm, and until late at night they talked ofall that had happened during so many years. Colonel Leslie had passed thefirst three years of his confinement in the Chatelet. "It was well it wasno longer," he said; "for even I, hard as I was with years of soldiering,could not have stood that much longer. My cell there was below the levelof the river. The walls were damp, and it was there I got the rheumatismwhich has crippled me ever since. Then they moved me to Blois, and theremy cell was in one of the turrets, and the sun shone in through thewindow slit for half an hour a day; besides for an hour once a week I wasallowed to take what they called exercise on the wall between my turretand the next. The governor was not a bad fellow, and did not try topocket the best part of the money allowed for the keep of the prisoners.Fortunately I never lost hope. Had I done so I would have thrown myselfover the parapet and ended it at once. I felt sure that you too were shutup, Amelie, and I pictured to myself how they would try to make you giveme up; but I never thought they would succeed, dear. I knew you too wellfor that. Sometimes for months I lay as if paralysed by rheumatism, and Ithink I should have died if I had not known how my enemies would haverejoiced at the news of my death. So I held on stoutly, and I have got myreward."

  But the hardships had told their tale. Although but the same age asMalcolm Anderson, Colonel Leslie looked fully ten years older. His longconfinement had taken every tinge of colour out of his face, and left italmost ghastly in its whiteness. He could with difficulty lift his handsto his head, and he walked as stiffly as if his legs had been jointless.His voice only had not lost the cheery ring his wife remembered.

  "No, Amelie," he said when she remarked this. "I kept my tongue inpractice; it was the one member that was free. After I had been confineda few months it struck me that I was rapidly losing the power of speech,and I determined that if I could not talk for want of someone to answerme, I could at least sing, and having a good store of songs, Scottish andFrench, I sang for hours together, at first somewhat to the uneasiness ofthe prison authorities, who thought that I could not be so merry unless Ihad some communication from without, or was planning an escape; but atlast they grew accustomed to it, and as my voice could not travel throughthe thick walls of my cells, it annoyed no one."

  "And did you never think of escaping, father?"

  "The first few years of my confinement I was always thinking of it,Ronald, but nothing ever came of my thought. I had no tools to burrowthrough a four foot wall, and if I could have done so I should have triedif it had only been to give me something to do, had it not been that Ihoped some day to obtain my release, and that any attempt at escapewould, if discovered, as it was almost certain to be, decrease mychances."

  Not a word was said that evening as to their future plans, all theirthoughts being in the past; but the next morning Colonel Leslie said atbreakfast:

  "And now what are we going to do next? How do we stand?"

  "I know no more than you do, Angus. I do not know whether the king hasgifted my mother's estate to others, as assuredly he has done my father'slands. If
he has, I have been thinking that the best plan will be to askthe king's permission to leave the kingdom and return to your nativeScotland."

  "I am very fond of Scotland, Amelie; but I have also a fondness forliving, and how I should live in Scotland I have not the most remoteidea. My estate there was but a small one, and was forfeited thirty yearsago; so unless I become a gaberlunzie and sit on the steps of St. Andrewsasking for alms, I don't see how we should get porridge, to say nothingof anything else. No, Amelie, it seems to me that we must stop in France.For very shame they cannot let the daughter of the Marquis de Recamboursstarve, and they must at least restore you a corner of your parentsestates, if it be but a farm. How are we off for funds at present?" heasked with a laugh. "I hope at least we have enough to pay our hotelbill."

  "We have forty louis in cash, father; the remains of the hundred youcommitted to Malcolm with me."

  "Is that so?" he exclaimed. "All I can say is that that money has lastedlonger than any that ever passed through my fingers before."

  "We have plenty of money," the countess said quietly. "I have all thejewels which came to me from my mother, and their sale will keep us foryears, either in Scotland or France."

  "That is good indeed," the colonel said cheerily.

  "Yes; I took them all with me when I was sent to the convent, and haveparted with none save the diamond necklet which I gave to the girl whobrought Ronald and me together, as a parting keepsake, and a brooch withwhich I rewarded the men who aided us in the forest; but seriously,Angus, we must settle upon something."

  "I quite agree with you, Amelie; but what is that something to be?"

  "I should think, Angus, that the proper thing would be for me to write tothe king thanking him for our release, asking his commands, andpetitioning him that my mother's estates may be restored to me. I willalso ask permission to retire to some southern town where there arewaters which may do good to your rheumatism."

  Colonel Leslie frowned.

  "I suppose that is the right thing to do, Amelie; though, for my part, Icannot thank a sovereign whom I have served well after such treatment asI have received. I would rather beg my bread from door to door."

  "No, I would not ask you, Angus, and of course you are differentlyplaced; but I have my rights as a peeress of France; besides I have on myown account no complaint against the king. It was my father who shut meup in the convent, not the king."

  "By the way, Amelie," her husband said, "you are not yet in mourning."

  "Nor do I intend to be," she said firmly; "unless I have to go to courtno thread of mourning do I put on. My father behaved like a tyrant to me,and I will not feign a grief at an event which has brought us happiness.Well, Ronald, what do you think had best be done? You and Malcolm havemanaged so well that we had best leave it for you to decide."

  "I think what you propose, mother, is best. I think you had better traveldown to some place near where your mother's estates lay, and then writeyour petition to the king. I will leave you there and return with it toParis, and will there consult Colonel Hume and Marshal Saxe as to how itshould be delivered to the king."

  This plan was carried out. The party journeyed together to Poitiers, andthere having seen his parents comfortably settled in a small house nearthe town, and remained with them a few days, Ronald with Malcolm returnedto Paris, bearing with him his mother's memorial to the king.

  Ronald was glad to find that Colonel Hume was now recovered from hiswound. Marshal Saxe too was better; the latter at once took charge of thepetition, and said that he would hand it to the king on the firstopportunity. Ronald accompanied the marquis several times to Versailles,but the latter had no private audience with the king, and thought itbetter not to present the memorial in public. One day, however, he wascalled into the king's closet.

  When he emerged with the king, Ronald thought from his expression ofcountenance that things had not gone well. On leaving the palace hemounted his horse--for he was now well enough to ride--and as he setout he called Ronald, who with other gentlemen had accompanied him toride beside him.

  "Things have not gone well," he said. "Your father's enemies haveevidently been at work, and have been poisoning the king's mind. He readthe memorial, and then said harshly, 'The Countess of Recambours hasforfeited all rights to her mother's estates by marrying an alien. Thelands of France are for the King of France's subjects, not for soldiersof fortune.' This touched me, and I said, 'Your majesty may recollectthat I am an alien and a soldier of fortune, and methinks that in time ofwar the swords of our soldiers of fortune have done such things forFrance that they have earned some right to gratitude. In a hundredbattles our Scottish troops have fought in the front ranks, and had itnot been for the Irish Brigade we should not have had to write Fontenoydown among the list of French victories."

  "You are bold, marshal," the king said angrily.

  "I am bold, sire," I replied, "because I am in the right: and I humblysubmit that a brave soldier like Colonel Leslie deserves better treatmentthan he has received at the hands of France."

  The king rose at once.

  "An answer to the petition will be sent to you tomorrow, marshal."

  "I bowed, and without another word the king left his closet and enteredthe room of audience. However, lad, you must not look so downcast. Wecould perhaps expect no more the first time. Of course every man who hasa hope, or who has a relation who has a hope, of obtaining the grant ofyour mother's estates is interested in exciting the king's displeasureagainst her; besides which there is, as you have told me, the Duc deChateaurouge, who may be regarded as a personal enemy of your father, andwho has the king's ear as much as anyone about him. However, we must havecourage. I consider my personal honour is touched in the matter now, andI will not let the matter drop till justice is done."

  At the appointed time Ronald again called at Marshal Saxe's hotel, andwatched the gay crowd of officers and nobles who were gathered in hisreception rooms. An hour later a royal attendant entered and handed adocument to the marshal. The latter glanced at it and looked around. Assoon as his eye fell upon Ronald he nodded to him.

  "Here is the judgement," he said in a low tone, as he handed him thepaper. "You see it is directed to the countess, to my care. I suppose youwill start with it at once."

  "Yes, marshal; the horses are saddled and we shall leave immediately."

  "Don't hurry your horses," the marshal said with a slight smile; "fromthe king's manner I think that the contents are such that a few hours'delay in the delivery will cause the countess no pain. However, I do notanticipate anything very harsh. In the first place, although the king isswayed by favourites who work on his prejudices, his intention is alwaysto be just; and in the second place, after granting the release of yourparents as a boon to me he can scarcely annul the boon by any severesentence. Will you tell the countess from me that I am wholly at herservice, and that, should any opportunity offer, she may be sure that Iwill do what I can to incline the king favourably towards her. Lastly,Leslie, take care of yourself. The change in the king's manner shows thatyou have powerful enemies, and now that you have succeeded in obtainingyour parents' freedom you have become dangerous. Remember the attack thatwas made upon you before, when there seemed but little chance that youwould ever succeed in obtaining their release or in seriously threateningthe interests of those who were looking forward to the reversion of thefamily estates. Their enmity now, when it only needs a change in theking's mood to do justice to your parents, will be far greater thanbefore.

  "Bid your father, too, to have a care for himself and your mother.Remember that violence is common enough, and there are few inquiriesmade. An attack upon a lonely house and the murder of those within it isnaturally put down as the act of some party of discharged soldiers orother ruffians. Tell him therefore he had best get a few trusty menaround him, and be on guard night and day against a treacherous attack.Those who stand in the way of powerful men in France seldom live long, sohe cannot be too careful."

  A quarter of an h
our later Ronald was on horseback. He had alreadyprovided himself with a pass to leave the city after the usual hour ofclosing the gates, and he and Malcolm were soon in the open country. Asthey rode along Ronald repeated the warning that the marshal had givenhim.

  "He is quite right, Ronald, and you cannot be too careful. We haveagainst us, first, this vindictive Duc de Chateaurouge, who, no doubt,has poisoned the king's mind. In all France there is no one whom I wouldnot rather have as a foe. He is powerful, unscrupulous, and vindictive;he would hesitate at nothing to carry out anything on which he had sethis mind, and would think no more of obtaining the removal of one whom heconsidered to stand in his way than of crushing a worm. Even as a youngman he had a villainous reputation, and was regarded as one of the mostdangerous men about the court. To do him justice, he is brave and a fineswordsman, and for choice he would rather slay with his own hands thosewho offend him than by other means. Though he was but three-and-twenty atthe time I first left France he had fought half a dozen duels and killedas many men, and several others who were known to have offended him diedsuddenly. Some were killed in street brawls, returning home at night, oneor two were suspected of having been poisoned. Altogether the man wasfeared and hated in those days, although, of course, none spoke theirsuspicions openly.

  "From what I have heard those suspicions have stuck to him ever since. Hehas not been engaged in many duels, because in the first place edictsagainst duelling are very strict, and in the second because hisreputation as a swordsman is so great that few would risk their livesagainst him. Still all who stood in his way have somehow or other come toa sudden end. We must therefore be on our guard night and day. He is, ofcourse, your most dangerous foe; but besides him must be numbered allthose who hope to obtain your mother's estates. The heirs of the marquisdoubtless feel perfectly safe from interference. There is no chancewhatever of the king dispossessing them in favour of a foreigner, so weneed not count them among your foes.

  "It is just as well, Ronald, that we started tonight instead of waitingtill tomorrow. The duke is pretty certain to learn that the king's answerwill be sent this evening, and may possibly have made preparations foryou on the road; but he will hardly expect that you will start before themorning. However, in order to be on the safe side I propose that we shallpresently turn off from the main road and avoid all large towns on ourway down to Poitiers."

  "Do you think the danger is as great as that, Malcolm?"

  "I do not think there is much danger, Ronald, just at present, though Ido in the future."

  Travelling by byways Ronald and Malcolm arrived at Poitiers withoutadventure.

  "I have brought you the king's answer, mother," Ronald said as healighted; "but before you open it I may tell you that it is unfavourable,though I am ignorant of the precise nature of its contents. But you mustnot be disappointed. Marshal Saxe bade me tell you that he considers hishonour engaged in seeing you righted, and that whenever an opportunityoccurs he will endeavour to move the king's mind in your favour. How ismy father?"

  "He suffers grievously from rheumatism, Ronald, and can scarce move fromhis couch."

  As soon as they joined the colonel the countess opened the king's letter.It was brief. "The Countess Amelie de Recambours is hereby ordered towithdraw at once to her estate of La Grenouille and there to await theking's pleasure concerning her."

  The king's signature was affixed.

  "Well, that is not so very bad," the countess said. "At any rate my rightto one of my mother's estates is recognized. La Grenouille is thesmallest of them, and contains but three or four farms. Still that willsuffice for our wants, and as it lies but twenty miles from Bordeaux theair will be warm and soft for you, Angus."

  "Is there a chateau on it, mother?"

  "Yes, there is a small chateau. I was there once as a girl. It has neverbeen modernized, but is still a castle such as it was two hundred yearsago."

  "All the better," Ronald said; and he then gave Malcolm's reasons fortheir being on the watch against any sudden attack.

  "He is quite right, Ronald," Colonel Leslie said. "The duke is capable ofanything. However, we will be on our guard, and if, as your mother says,it is a fortified house, we need have no fear of any sudden attack."

  "I would suggest, colonel, that I should ride to Tours," Malcolm said,"and hire two of the men who escorted madame's carriage. They have servedin the wars and can be relied upon. They would not need high wages, formost of the discharged soldiers have trouble enough to keep body and soultogether. With a couple of men of this kind, and two or three of the menon the estate, I think, colonel, you need fear no sudden attack."

  The colonel approved of the suggestion, and a week later, Malcolm havingreturned with the two men, a carriage was hired to convey the colonel andhis wife, and so they journeyed quietly down to La Grenouille. Onarriving there they found that they were expected, the old steward incharge having received a letter from the royal chancellor, saying that hewas to receive the countess as the owner of the estate.

  The old man, who had known her mother well and remembered her visits as achild, received the countess with respectful joy. The chateau was, asAmelie had said, really a castle. It was surrounded by a moat filled withwater, from which the walls rose abruptly, with no windows in the lowerstories and only small loopholes in those above. Although the steward wasignorant when his mistress might be expected, he had already caused greatfires to be lighted in all the rooms and had temporarily engaged two ofthe farmer's daughters to wait upon the countess, and three stout men asservitors.

  "What are the revenues of the estate?" the countess asked the stewardthat evening. "My mother's other estates have not been restored to me asyet, and I have only this to depend upon, and I do not know whatestablishment I can afford to keep up."

  "The revenue amounts to twelve thousand francs," he said. "There arethree large farms and four small ones. Twelve thousand francs are notmuch, countess, for your mother's daughter; but they go a long way here,where one can live for next to nothing. We have a garden which willprovide all the fruit and vegetables you require, and your poultry willcost you nothing. The vineyard attached to the chateau furnishes morethan enough wine, and the cellars are well filled, for every year I haveput aside a few barrels, so that in fact it will be only meat you have tobuy."

  "So that you think I can keep the two men I have brought with me and theservants you have engaged?"

  "Easily, madam, and more if you wished it."

  "Do you think five men will be sufficient?" the countess said. "I askbecause I have powerful enemies, and in these lawless times an attackupon a lonely house might well be carried out."

  "With the drawbridge drawn up, madam, five men could hold the chateauagainst a score, and the sound of the alarm bell would bring all thetenants and their men down to your assistance. I will answer for themall. There were great rejoicings last week when I sent round the newsthat you were expected. The memory of your mother, who once resided herefor a year, is very dear to all of us, and there is not a man on theestate but would take up arms in your defence. The sound of the alarmbell would bring thirty stout fellows, at least, to your aid."

  "Then we need not trouble on that score, Amelie," the colonel saidcheerfully. "Malcolm will see to the drawbridge tomorrow; probably it hasnot been raised for years."

  "I have already been examining it," Malcolm--who had just entered theroom--said. "It only needs a little oil and a bolt or two. I will haveit raised tonight. Things look better than I expected, colonel, and Ishall be able to return to Paris without having any anxiety upon yourscore."

  "But you are not thinking of going back, Ronald?" the countess askedanxiously. "If there is danger here for us, there must be surely dangerfor you in Paris. And I want you here with us."

  "I will stop for a few days, mother, and then Malcolm and I will be off.As I have Marshal Saxe's protection I need fear no open enmity fromanyone, and as I shall be with the regiment I shall be safe from thesecret attacks; besides, my sword can gua
rd my head."

  "You have taught him to defend himself--eh, Malcolm?" Colonel Lesliesaid.

  "I," Malcolm repeated--"I can use my sword in a melee, colonel, as youknow, and hold my own against Dutchman or German when I meet them on thefield; but Ronald is a different blade altogether. He was well taught inGlasgow, and has practised under the best maitres d'armes in Paris since,and I am proud to say that I do not think there are ten men in Franceagainst whom he could not hold his own."

  "That is good, that is good, indeed," the colonel said, delighted."Malcolm, I feel my obligations to you more and more every day. Truly Ihad never even hoped that if my son were ever to be restored to me, Ishould have such cause to be proud of him."

  "But why do you think you had better return to Paris, Ronald?" his motherinquired.

  "Because, mother, it will not do to let your enemies have entirely theirown way now that you have been so far restored. Doubtless your familywill be the more inclined to aid you with their influence, but there mustbe somebody to urge them to do so."

  "Besides, Amelie," the colonel put in, "we must not cage the lad here atyour apron strings. He has already won Saxe's regard and protection byhis conduct in the field, and can now accept a commission in the oldregiment. He has begun well, and may yet live to command it. No, no, mylove. I should like to keep him here as much as you would, but in everyway it is better that he should go out and take his place in the world.To you and me, after our long imprisonment, this place is life, freedom,and happiness, and we are together; but for him it is a dreary littlecountry chateau, and he would soon long for a life among men."

  And so, after three weeks' stay at the chateau, Ronald and Malcolm rodeback to Paris, and the former received a week later a commission throughMarshal Saxe in the Scottish Dragoons. That regiment had returned fromthe frontier, and Ronald at once took his place in its ranks, and washeartily received by all the officers, to whom he was formally introducedby Colonel Hume as the son of their former commanding officer.

  A short time afterwards it became the turn of duty of the ScottishDragoons to furnish guards for a week at Versailles, and Colonel Humetook down two troops for that purpose. That to which Ronald belonged wasone of them. Ronald, knowing that for the present he was not in favourwith the king, begged the colonel to put him on duty as often aspossible, so that he might avoid the necessity of being present at theking's audiences with the other officers.

  He was one day walking with the colonel and several other officers in thegrounds at a distance from the palace, when they came, at the turn of thewalk, upon the Duc de Chateaurouge and three other gentlemen of thecourt. The former stopped abruptly before Colonel Hume.

  "I had the honour, Colonel Hume, to speak to you some time since of avolunteer in your regiment who chose to call himself the name of Leslie.I understand he is now an officer. I see by the lists in the courtyardthat a Cornet Leslie is now on duty here. Where does he hide himself, forI have been seeking in vain to meet him?"

  "Cornet Leslie is not one to balk any man's desire that way," ColonelHume said gravely. "This is Cornet Leslie."

  Ronald stepped forward and looked the duke calmly in the face.

  "So this is the young cockerel," the duke said contemptuously. "A worthyson of a worthy father, I doubt not."

  "At any rate, my lord duke," Ronald said quietly, "I do not rid myself ofmy foes by getting those I am afraid to meet as man to man thrown intoprison, nor by setting midnight assassins upon them. Nor do I rely uponmy skill as a swordsman to be a bully and a coward."

  The duke started as if struck.

  "I had made up my mind to kill you, young sir," he said, "sooner orlater; but you have brought it on yourself now. Draw, sir!" And the dukedrew his sword.

  Colonel Hume and several others threw themselves before Ronald.

  "Put up your sword, sir. Duelling is forbidden, and you know theconsequence of drawing within the precincts of the palace."

  "What care I for ordinances!" the duke said furiously. "Stand aside,gentlemen, lest I do you harm!"

  "Harm or no harm," Colonel Hume said sternly, "my young friend shall notfight in the palace grounds. I protest against his being forced into aduel at all; but at any rate he shall not fight here."

  The duke looked for a moment as if he was about to spring upon ColonelHume, but he saw by their faces that his companions also were againsthim. For the consequences of drawing a sword within the precincts of apalace were so serious, that even the most powerful nobles shrank frombraving them.

  "Very well," he said at last, thrusting his sword back into its scabbard."It is but ten minutes' walk to the boundary wall, I will let him livetill then."

  So saying he started off with rapid strides down the walk, followed at aslower pace by the rest.