The King's Warrant: A Story of Old and New France

  CHAPTER VIII.

  On the following afternoon, after giving Madame de Bleury strictinjunctions to keep a watchful eye on the movements of mademoiselle,the baroness repaired to the Chateau de Beaujardin for the purpose ofmaking the marquis acquainted with so much of what had recentlytranspired as it was desirable that he should know. This was abusiness requiring considerable tact and discretion. She had foundlittle difficulty in persuading him that it was of the highestimportance to break off the intimacy between his son and Marguerite,and he had readily consented to give such an amount as might induce M.de Crillon, or any one else, to marry the girl, and thus effectuallysave Isidore from such a _mesalliance_. After promising the dowry themarquis had indeed felt somewhat vexed with himself at not having askedher for a little more information as to the means by which she intendedto carry out her plans and how Mademoiselle Lacroix was to be inducedto agree to them. He always rather liked Marguerite, and even the highcrime of endeavouring to inveigle his son and heir into a marriage soinfinitely beneath his station could not quite stifle a feeling of pityfor her. But it would have seemed so vacillating and so mistrustful toquestion Madame de Valricour's discretion that he had thought it bestto let matters take their course, and this now relieved the baronessfrom the necessity of much troublesome explanation. She accordinglysaid nothing whatever about the way in which Clotilde had beenentrapped and carried off, nor did she mention a word about her ownproceedings at St. Sulpice, but confined herself to informing themarquis that Isidore had fled with Marguerite, and that she had left itto M. de Crillon to follow up the fugitives, and endeavour to bringIsidore to reason, and persuade him to return to Beaujardin.

  The marquis was of course most indignant at so flagrant an act on thepart of his son, declaring that he would disinherit him and never seehim again; and Madame de Valricour returned home well satisfied withher interview, to await, though not without some anxiety, such tidingsas she might receive from M. de Crillon in the course of a few days.

  She had, however, scarcely left Beaujardin when some one else sought aninterview with the marquis. This was Monsieur Perigord, who, afterbeing admitted into his master's presence, began, with much agitation,by imploring him to interfere in an affair of the most terribleimportance. The marquis, who was well acquainted with the excitabledisposition of his old _chef de cuisine_, supposed that some slight hadbeen put upon him by the inferior domestics, or perhaps even by M.Boulederouloue himself, so he kindly told the old man that he wouldtake care to see him righted if he would only be calm and say what wasthe matter.

  "Calm, my master!" exclaimed Perigord, throwing himself at the feet ofhis patron; "who could be calm when such dreadful things are happening?Ah, monsieur, it is not for my poor self that I come to you; it is toplead for my unhappy young master, who, if you do not take some steps,will fall a victim to a most horrible scheme."

  "Are you mad, Perigord?" said the marquis, somewhat irritated at suchan interference in his domestic affairs by a person of that kind."What silly nonsense is this?"

  "It is no silly nonsense, monsieur. If you will but deign to listen tome I can prove beyond doubt that a dreadful plot, of which you cannotbe aware, threatens not only poor Monsieur Isidore's happiness, but hisvery life--that madame the baroness, before she came back from St.Sulpice yesterday, sent off M. de Crillon with a _lettre de cachet_ toNantes, whither the young marquis has gone with his bride. Ah,monsieur, those terrible _lettres de cachet_! You know, we all know,what they mean. Alas, alas! my poor young master! He is lost if youwill not save him."

  Just for a moment the marquis fancied that all this might be only anexaggeration of the simple facts which he already knew; but Madame deValricour had said nothing to him of having been at St. Sulpice,nothing about an actual marriage, nothing about a _lettre de cachet_even against Marguerite, much less against his own son. He began to betroubled.

  "My good Perigord," said he, "I am afraid your zeal has outrun yourdiscretion, but I can pardon you even if your attachment to me and minehas led you into some little extravagance. The thing can, however, besoon tested. How do you know that the baroness has been at St.Sulpice? Have you anything to show that your story about my son'smarriage is not a mere idle rumour? How can you know anything aboutthe _lettre de cachet_ that you talk of?" And as he asked thequestions the marquis quite regained his usual calmness andself-possession, which had for a moment been disturbed.

  Monsieur Perigord was ready with his proofs; and with his master'spermission forthwith summoned Michel Greboeuf, who had come to thechateau an hour since. Not only was he able to describe his ownconversation with Madame de Valricour, from which her presence at St.Sulpice and her knowledge of the marriage at once became evident, buthe stated that he had met at the little village inn a strange man whoover his cups had let out that he was in the employ of a M. de Crillon,and that they were looking out for a youngster of quality, who wouldsoon find out to his cost that his master had in his pocket a littledocument with the signature of His Most Christian Majesty, which wouldprovide him with a lodging for life, if even worse did not befall him.

  In spite of his agitation, the marquis succeeded in commanding himselfso far as to be able to question Greboeuf more than once respecting thecircumstances he had narrated; but the more he questioned the moreclear it became that he was telling the truth. At best, Madame deValricour's concealment of many things that must have been within herknowledge, and which Isidore's father had the most undoubted right toknow, showed that she was deceiving him. Most of all his mind dwelt onthe fact that she had learned that Isidore had fled to Nantes, whereasshe had professed complete ignorance as to his whereabouts. With asmuch composure as he could assume the marquis dismissed Greboeuf with ahandsome reward, and now turning to Perigord, said, "But even if we aresure that they have gone to Nantes, what clue have we as to where theymay be lodged?"

  "They have gone to my brother, Jean Perigord, who keeps an inn on theQuai La Fosse called the 'Great Gun.'"

  "Can your brother be trusted?" asked Monsieur de Beaujardin, somewhatanxiously.

  "He is as true as steel, monseigneur," was the reply, "yet so simplethat a child may cheat him--so much the worse for him, poor fellow!"

  "Sit down and write to him as I shall dictate," said the marquis.

  Perigord did so, and his master read over what he had written. "Youhave been an attached and faithful servant to me, Perigord," said themarquis, "and you have now done to me and mine a service which I shallcertainly never forget," and with these words he took the old man'shand and grasped it with undisguised emotion.

  "Ah, monseigneur, you are too good, too condescending to one so humbleas myself," exclaimed the old _chef_, the tears running down his cheeksas he spoke. "But you have deigned to listen to me. Yes, you will goto him--you will save my poor young master--is it not so?"

  The marquis did not answer, but Perigord knew by the look his oldmaster gave him that he had not spoken in vain.

  Great was the surprise of everybody at the chateau when, soon afterthese interviews, Monsieur de Beaujardin gave orders that horses shouldbe got ready by daybreak on the following morning, as he was about tomake a journey. The marchioness flew to her husband to inquire thereason of such unusual orders, but he would tell her no more than thatsome business called him away, and that he should be absent for a weekat least. He knew that anything he might tell her would soon be wormedout of her by the baroness, which in the present case might prove mostundesirable. There were, however, others at the chateau who knew theirown interests too well to let Madame de Valricour remain in ignoranceof what was passing. Again she went to the marquis, but he refused tosee her, and even sent so strange a message to her that she augured atonce that something was going wrong, though what it was she could notascertain.

  In due time the travelling equipage was at the door, but as the marquiswas stepping into it he was informed that his valet, Francois, withoutwhom he never went half a dozen miles away from Beaujardin, had beensud
denly taken ill and could not possibly attend his master on thejourney. What was to be done? Despite his usual philosophic calmness,the marquis stamped with vexation, and stood irresolute on the greatsteps of the chateau, undecided whether he should start without thevalet or wait till he got better.

  "What is the matter with the fellow, Jasmin?" said he, as the latterappeared, bringing with him the travelling cloak, in order to depositit in the coach.

  "It is a fever, monsieur," replied Jasmin, bowing, "nay, it may beworse. Heaven send it be not the small-pox."

  The marquis looked aghast. "I must go, there is no help for it," saidhe. "Louis must attend me instead."

  "I will fetch him instantly," said Jasmin; but in five minutes hereturned with the intelligence that Louis was not to be found, high orlow.

  "Then I must go alone," exclaimed the marquis, irritably, "I cannotwait. Stay, you have nothing to do, Jasmin, you can go with me."

  "Monsieur honours me," replied Jasmin, with a bow. "If monsieur willstep in and proceed, I will follow without delay, and overtake thecarriage in a short quarter of an hour."

  So the marquis entered the vehicle, saying to himself, "This is auseful fellow--ready at a moment. I am not likely to miss Francois.Indeed, I may find poor Isidore's man more useful to me as mattersstand."

  Jasmin was as good as his word, and soon joined the equipage, whichproceeded on its journey. They then travelled with as much speed ascircumstances would allow, and reached Nantes on the following day justas it was growing dusk, and put up at the great hotel of the place.Immediately on their arrival, and before Jasmin had had time even tochange his travelling dress and heavy riding boots, he was summoned bythe marquis, who told him to repair at once to the inn kept by JeanPerigord on the Quai La Fosse, and to desire the landlord to come tohim without a moment's delay at the Hotel du Roi.

  The first thing which the valet did, however, was to read a letterwhich Monsieur de Beaujardin gave to him to hand to Perigord. It ranas follows:--

  "MY GOOD BROTHER,

  "The Marquis de Beaujardin, my master, is about to proceed to Nantes onsome business in which, as I am informed, you will be able to assisthim. Render him all the aid in your power, and do not hesitate to givehim any information you can, as the affair is one deeply concerning thehonour and welfare of the whole family, to which, as you know, I havebeen so long and so devotedly attached.

  "Always your loving Brother, "ACHILLE PERIGORD."

  Having made himself master of the contents of this letter, Jasminwrapped himself in his cloak, for the wind was keen and the weatherlooked threatening, and sallied forth from the hotel. But he did notgo straight to Jean Perigord's. On the way he stopped at another inncalled the Hotel Turenne, where he inquired whether a certain M. deCrillon had yet arrived there. He was answered in the affirmative, andwas presently shown into a saloon, where he found de Crillon, to whomhe forthwith communicated the circumstances which had brought himthither with the marquis, showing him at the same time the letter fromold Achille. The conference was short, and M. de Crillon concluded itby saying, "I suspected they would go to Maitre Jean's, and try to getaway in some vessel sailing from this port, and my men are already onthe look-out near the house. If, with the aid of this note, you canbring them here, or entice them on to the quay, the business is done."With these instructions, Jasmin once more set out.

  It had now become dark, and he found the quay a very long one. He hadtraversed nearly the whole length of it without coming upon the "GreatGun," when he saw a sailor lounging under one of the trees that linedthe road, and asked him if the inn was anywhere near.

  "What! Jean Perigord's house?" answered the man. "O yes; I thoughtevery one knew the 'Great Gun.' Come along, I will show it to you."

  In a couple of minutes they reached the house. It was still open; alamp was burning over the door, and there stood Jean Perigord himself,apparently looking out for some one. The sailor touched his hat andasked Jasmin for a trifle; the latter told the landlord to give the mansomething to drink, and they entered the house together. The man thentossed off his glass and left them alone.

  "I will not ask if you are Jean Perigord," said Jasmin, as they enteredthe little parlour, "you are so like our honest old Achille. I havecome to you on a delicate and most important matter; but first of allread this," and he handed to the innkeeper the letter from his brother,which he read with evident astonishment and perturbation.

  "Now listen to me," continued Jasmin. "There is no time for beatinground the bush. What about two young persons sent to you by yourcousin Michel Greboeuf, of St. Sulpice?"

  "Mercy on us!" exclaimed Jean, in great agitation. "Do you know thatthey are here?"

  "Of course," replied Jasmin. "When did they come?"

  "Early this afternoon," said the innkeeper; "but I was not to say aword about it."

  "Are they within?"

  "She is; but he went out a couple of hours ago and hired a boat to takehim to one of the vessels lying in the river. Ah! I thought, in spiteof their being dressed like common country folk, they must be somethingmore than they seemed. But," added he, abruptly, "I don't know why Ishould tell you all this."

  "Nay, my good fellow," rejoined Jasmin, in his blandest way, "surelythe word of our good old Achille is enough."

  Jean glanced hastily at the letter as if to reassure himself, and thena thought seemed suddenly to strike him.

  "Stay. Mercy on us!" said he, stepping back a little, "is it possible?Yes, I see--of course you are monseigneur the marquis. How could I beso stupid? Ah, monsieur," he added, "I can only be too glad to----"

  "Hush!" cried Jasmin, interrupting him. "We are watched. Do you notsee?"

  And, sure enough, following the direction of Jasmin's eyes, Jean didsee the man who had brought his visitor there emerge noiselessly from adark corner near the open door and steal away into the street.

  "Quick," said Jasmin, "go to her at once. Tell her all is well, butthat she must come instantly to the Hotel Turenne."

  "But she will never come without him," cried Jean, pleadingly.

  "Tell her that you will bring her husband to her the moment he returns;but that if she delays, he will be lost. I will go on first and seethat the way is clear."

  With these words Monsieur Jasmin drew his cloak about him anddisappeared. For a few moments poor Jean stood utterly bewildered, butthe thought of the danger aroused him, and he hurried up-stairs to thechamber where Marguerite was sitting, anxiously awaiting her husband'sreturn.

  In a few hasty words, and not a little excited by his mission, thelandlord bade her get ready and follow him at once, adding that a goodfriend had come to aid them, and that she and her husband would soon besafe. At first she hesitated, but on his urgent assurance that she hadnothing to fear, she forthwith put on her hood and accompanied him downthe stairs, and they quitted the house.

  They had proceeded about a hundred yards, and had just reached a partof the quay where some stone steps led down to a landing-place, whenJean heard footsteps behind him. He stopped and turned round, and wasinstantly seized and thrown to the ground, his assailant whispering tohim as he held him down with a grasp like that of a vice, "Keep quiet,good Master Jean. This business does not concern you, and you shall beset free in a minute or two."

  Jean Perigord had too brave a heart for that, however, and he struggledto get loose. He succeeded in raising himself a little, but it wasonly to hear a shriek, and to see the unhappy girl borne past him bytwo men, who carried her down the steps and placed her in a boat thatlay at the landing-place. The next moment he saw two other mencarrying past him what seemed to be the figure of a man struggling inthe folds of a cloak that had apparently been thrown over him. Themuffled form was thrown into the same boat, which was then instantlyshoved off.

  "Now, my good Jean," said the man, as he let go his hold of theinnkeeper, "just go home and keep your tongue quiet--it will be bestfor you. I shall have an eye on you, and if you blab about what
youhave seen, why you will stand a good chance of sharing the same fate asyour friends yonder. They have been arrested under the king's _lettrede cachet_, and if you meddle in the matter you are a dead man."

  Half an hour later Monsieur de Crillon received the report of his chief_employe_, which was to the effect that the young marquis had beenoverheard whilst discovering himself to Jean Perigord, and that he andthe young female who had previously reached the "Great Gun" had beenseized and conveyed to the prison of Bouffay, where they awaitedMonsieur de Crillon's further orders. "Let the horses be got ready andbrought round at once," was the reply, and his follower retired to givedirections accordingly.

  In the meanwhile Jean Perigord had returned to his house in dire dismayat what had taken place, and his anxiety was heightened, if that werepossible, by the reflection that he had very likely been made the meansof decoying poor Marguerite into a trap. He could not help fearing,moreover, that the figure he had seen carried past him and thrown intothe boat had been that of the poor young fellow her husband, who haddoubtless been captured on the quay as he was landing. Without athought about closing his house as usual, he threw himself into a chairand groaned aloud. What was he to do? Now he resolved to seek out theMarquis de Beaujardin at the Hotel Turenne; now again he shrank fromsuch a step as he remembered that terrible injunction to keep silenceabout the matter. He was, however, suddenly aroused from his ruefulreflections by the sound of hasty footsteps in the passage, and hadscarcely had time to rise from his chair when there stood before him ayoung man, in the garb of a peasant indeed, but whose face and figure,to say nothing of his language and manner, were little in accordancewith his homely apparel.

  "You will be glad to hear, honest Jean," said he, "that I have managedit all, and have succeeded in taking passages in a ship that sailsto-morrow morning. I must go and bring down my poor young wife atonce, as I have kept my boat waiting to take us off to the ship. I cannever repay you for your kindness, but----" Here he stopped short, andthen added in some surprise: "How now, my good friend! you look as ifyou had seen a ghost."

  That was, indeed, just what Jean himself was thinking at that moment."Heaven have mercy on us!" he ejaculated. "Is it you? It cannot be."

  "Are you ill, or crazy, or else what is the matter?" cried Isidore."Has anything befallen her?" he added, as Jean stood there before himwringing his hands. Isidore was about to rush up-stairs, but thelandlord grasped his arm and stopped him, and then in hurried andbroken sentences he related to him what had occurred during his absence.

  Incoherent as the narrative was, it sufficed to tell Isidore only tooplainly what had happened; yet he could at first scarcely realise itall. Trembling with agitation, he pressed the innkeeper with questionafter question till nothing more remained to be told. "What could Ido," cried Jean, despairingly, "when monseigneur the marquishimself--if, indeed, it was he--told me you would be all safe if I tookher at once to the Hotel Turenne?"

  "The marquis himself!" cried Isidore. "Are you mad? I will notbelieve it. What was he like--how old?"

  "Perhaps a little older than yourself. I supposed, of course, that itwas the young marquis, of whom my brother has often spoken to me."

  "The young marquis! There is some horrible treachery in all this; butI will find it out, cost what it will. At the Hotel Turenne, did yousay?"

  Jean nodded an affirmative, and before he could add another wordIsidore had rushed out of the house.

  Dark as it was, he managed to find his way, after many inquiries, tothe Hotel Turenne. As he reached the door two mounted men with a ledhorse came up; the master of the house and two or three of the hotelservants with lights were standing in the hall.

  "Is the Marquis de Beaujardin staying here?" asked Isidore, abruptly.

  "No, he is not," answered, the hotel-keeper; "but he came to the Hoteldu Roi this afternoon; you will find him there. Stand aside."

  At this moment a gentleman in a riding suit, and booted and spurred,passed through the hall and descended the steps, accompanied by thelandlord, who officiously held the stirrup as he mounted.

  "Stay," said he, bending forward and addressing the hotel-keeper in anundertone, "should a person named Jasmin come again, you will tell himthat I am obliged by his assistance, which has been quite successful.Should he not return, send this message to him to-morrow at the Hoteldu Roi; he is in the _suite_ of the Marquis de Beaujardin." With thesewords the speaker put spurs to his horse and galloped off, followed byhis attendants.

  Isidore had not seen the speaker's face indeed, but he knew that voiceonly too well. What! had his own father then come there in league withde Crillon to hunt her down so relentlessly? Had they even employedhis own discharged menial to personate him and entrap her? With hisbrows knit and his teeth set close, he bent his steps in the directionof the Hotel du Roi, but he had not gone far before he stopped; then,after considering for a minute or two, he turned and made his wayalmost mechanically to the Quai La Fosse.

  The landlord was standing at the door, peering anxiously out into thedarkness, but Isidore passed him without notice, and hurrying by intothe little parlour threw himself into a chair; there, burying his facein his hands, he gave way for the first time, and broke into apassionate outburst of grief and despair.

  Perigord stood near him for a while, not daring to intrude on hisdistress; but at last he approached him timidly, and laying his hand onhis shoulder tried to calm and soothe him. Then, growing bolder, hebegan to implore him at least to try and save his own life. ButIsidore seemed not to heed him. "His own life! What was life to himnow--now that he had lost all that seemed to him to make life worthpreserving?"

  "For the poor young creature's sake," continued Jean, the tears runningdown his cheeks, "save yourself. Perhaps you may yet find some one;surely there must be some one who may have the power to help you to tryand rescue her." As he said this, poor Jean shuddered at the thoughtof those terrible words about the _lettre de cachet_.

  Perhaps the innkeeper's words reminded Isidore that his uncle, theBaron de Valricour, or possibly the Marquis de Montcalm himself, mightyet do something for him, if indeed anything could be done. At allevents it was useless to hope for aid from anyone in France. Somewhatto the honest innkeeper's surprise, he suddenly arose, and speakingwith a calmness and dignity which quite awed the would-be comforter, hesaid, "You are right, good friend. I take shame to myself for showingsuch weakness. Yes, there are those who may still help me, if it beGod's will; and if they can, I know they will not shrink from doing so.For the kindness which would have sheltered and assisted us, I cannever repay you, but I can never forget it. Farewell! It is best foryou that you should not even know my name. The boat that is waitingyonder shall take me back to the ship alone," he added, with a groan."Ah, if ever I visit France again----"

  He could say no more, but he grasped honest Jean's hand and left thehouse. The landlord hurried after him, but it was only to see himdescend the steps of the quay and enter the boat, which, in a minute ortwo, was lost in the darkness.

  Tailpiece to Chapter VIII]