HAUTOIS.
The absurdity and annoyance entailed by my new character, together
with the study and trouble it cost me to play such a part, would have
been intolerable but for the facilities it afforded me for enjoying
with perfect freedom the society of Jacqueline. Thus, together we
could ramble for hours, in the shady walks of the garden, and the
green leafy turnings of the labyrinth, or sit in the bowers of
fragrant roses, which were trained, trimmed, and cultured by my
admirer, the gardener, whose name I shall long remember, was Urbain.
In the labyrinth we lost ourselves so often that the countess one
day, somewhat to the confusion of poor Jacqueline, named it the _Val
sans retour_, after that in the Breton forest of Broceliande--a
mysterious path, out of which no false or fickle lover can ever
return, for there the fairies raise up an impenetrable and impassable
barrier. In that forest, too, say the legendaries, lies the tomb of
Myrddyna, beneath a fatal and enchanted stone.
If the curé of St. Solidore actually paid madame the visit she spoke
of, discovery was certain. I did not fear the good man much, save a
severe rebuke for conduct that was unseemly; but then there was that
devil of a commandant coming also from St. Malo, and already in
anticipation, I felt myself a prisoner in its dreary casemates that
overhung the sea!
This idea filled Jacqueline with terror.
"Give me up and leave me," said she, with hands clasped upon her
forehead, while her tears fell fast, "to what end do we love each
other, Basil?"
"True, Jacqueline--to what end indeed! But to give you up is
impossible. To love you has become a part of my nature, my
existence--myself; and being with you daily, has made that which was
a passion, a confirmed habit."
"In mercy do not speak thus, I love you--love you dearly; yet our
marriage is impossible, and I can see no future but despair."
"I know it," said I, gloomily and with clenched teeth. "Cursed be
the fate that threw us together--the folly that kept me lingering
here."
"Better would it have been that we had never met."
"That I had never rescued you, do you mean?"
"Or I you?" she would exclaim with a sad smile; and then a long, long
kiss would close these interviews of mingled passion, joy, and pain.
One evening, after escorting Jacqueline to the door of the chateau,
instead of entering with her I returned to the garden, for the
purpose of dreaming over all that had passed between us, and also
considering seriously the future, and what could be the end of a love
so rash and desperate as ours. Twilight had set in, and from the
garden I issued to the long avenue that led to the Rennes-road. It
was dark and gloomy, and the clipped yews assumed all kinds of quaint
and terrible forms. While loitering there, I became conscious that a
man was observing me from behind one of the orange tubs, one of
which, I have said, stood between each of the yews. Having no desire
to meet any one, I was turning off hastily towards the chateau, when
suddenly the lurker stepped before me, saying--
"_Pardieu_, my pretty one, it seems that he you wait for is not
likely to come. Permit me to offer you my arm."
He was a tall, swinging fellow of a repulsive aspect, with a long
knife in his belt and a broad hat slouched over his gloomy eyes.
"Stand back, monsieur," said I, firmly; "back, or it may be the worse
for you. I am one of the household of Madame la Comtesse de
Bourgneuf."
"I know that well enough; but don't be alarmed, my fair one--I am
only a sportsman."
"Then permit me to pass."
"_Oui_--but I am a sportsman who looks for better game than a clumsy
soubrette," said the fellow, whom I now perceived to be tipsy.
"Indeed, monsieur."
"_Vraiment_--perhaps Mademoiselle de Broglie herself. Does she often
promenade here in the evening?"
Gathering my skirts up to my knees, as they sorely impeded me, I was
running quickly away, encumbered by my stays and the paddings with
which Angelique in her zeal had furnished them, when this man, who
was both strong and active, overtook and confronted me again.
"Stop--speak!" he thundered out with a strange oath which I had
somewhere heard before. "_Pardieu_, my saucy one, I shall teach you
that I have not dragged a chain in the casemates of St. Malo, and at
the aqueducts of Dol, for nothing."
"You are----" said I, gasping.
"Theophile Hautois," said he, closing the question.
I was thunderstruck, and the memory of Captain Brook, of the outrage
he had contemplated with regard to Jacqueline, and my own narrow
escape from his deadly _couteau de chasse_, flashed at once upon my
memory. I was unarmed, defenceless, and sadly encumbered by my new
costume, though at the same time it effectually disguised me.
I paused for a moment to recover my breath, and then concentrating
all my strength and fury in one decisive blow, dealt fairly between
the eyes, I knocked the ponderous ruffian down like a nine-pin, and,
darting off towards the chateau, reached the vestibule in a state so
breathless and excited, that any one who saw me would have deemed me
a most timid and gentle woman in reality.
What Master Hautois thought, on receiving such a knock on the head
from a fair hand, it may be difficult to conceive; but I saw no more
of him for some time, nor could he be found, though the whole of the
grounds were immediately and rigorously searched by Urbain and a
party of armed men.
That this daring outlaw should prowl so near the chateau filled
Jacqueline and her maid with the greatest alarm; and for myself, I
took the precaution to carry about with me a small pistol, the charge
of which I frequently renewed.
In the boudoir of the countess (a charming little circular chamber
which opened off the drawing-room, and was entirely hung with
rose-coloured silk, and had long windows which overlooked the garden
and labyrinth), I was detailing to her my adventure in the avenue,
and was also employed in the manly occupation of winding a skein of
silk for some piece of work which her niece and Angelique were
manufacturing for the cathedral of St. Malo, when the countess said
to me--
"Basile, my child, you look very sad."
"Do I seem so, madame?"
"Yes," she continued, surveying me through her glass--a process which
always made me wince; "I can read a sad expression in your eyes."
"It may be so, madame, there are few hearts without some hidden
sorrow--some veiled secret."
"But you are so young! Ah, I see, you are in love!"
"It may be so," said I again, with a furtive glance at Jacqueline,
near whom I was kneeling, and who grew pale as her aunt spoke.
"With some one far away?"
"Do not press me, madame; suffice that it is a mad and almost
hopeless love--hopeless as regards its future," said I, bitterly,
while Jacqueline gave me a secret and imploring glance. "I love,
madam, how dearly and how deeply, is known only to Heaven and myself.
There--that is my secret--that my hidden sorrow and joy--joy for the
delight it gives me, and sorrow for its future."
The face of Jacqueline beamed with pleasure, and her eyes sparkled as
she bent her flushed face over her needlework.
"I would that M. Jacquot would speak thus of me," said Angelique, "I
shall pull his ears some day, till he does so."
The old lady politely asked pardon of me for her curiosity, and was
proceeding to detail some of her own early experiences and to
rehearse the number of Counts, Abbés, Chevaliers, and Grand Crosses
of St. Louis, who had sighed and died for her, when a servant
suddenly announced the Chevalier de Boisguiller; then we heard the
clank of a sabre with the jingle of spurs, and that gay hussar in his
brilliant uniform, all gold braid and bell buttons, with his fur cap
in one hand, and the other caressing his dearly cherished moustache,
entered, bowing and smiling to us all.
He was _en route_, he said, with his troop, from Rennes to the coast,
and as he would pass near St. Malo, he had galloped on in front to
pay his respects at the chateau, and obtain the honour of conveying
any message for his father, the commandant, from the Countess
Ninon--one who far excelled the Ninon of the preceding age.
There was mischief lurking in the handsome fellow's eyes as he said
all this. He soon detected an impudent smile on the lips of
Angelique, and, ere long, I found him eyeing me sharply through his
glass, and I felt a horrible dread lest _he_ should recognise me, or
discover my sex.
I was certain the crisis had come, when the hussar captain said--
"By-the-by, my dear mademoiselle, what did you make of the
Englishman, whose life you saved from my fellows, when we were last
here?"
"The young man who saved my life from Hautois?" asked Jacqueline,
slowly.
"Yes, 'twas turn about, it would seem."
"Monsieur le Chevalier, he was taken to St. Malo," said Angelique,
who came to the rescue of her mistress.
"And since then, my girl?"
"We have heard no more of him."
"'Tis well," said the chevalier, who, as his eye chanced again to
fall on me, caused my heart to swell alternately with alarm and
anger. "Those English folks are about to pay us a visit again."
"Again--_O mon Dieu!_" we all exclaimed together.
"More shipping and troops are being concentrated at their rendezvous
of both Portsmouth and Plymouth," said he, while playing with the
gold tassels of the cord which held the furred pelisse on his left
shoulder; "but my father is ready for them at St. Malo, and Brest and
Cherbourg are in excellent hands."
Though reflection or thought evidently but seldom troubled our
hussar, he now proceeded to make some remarks with which I, mentally,
coincided.
"_Parbleu!_ what did the King of Great Britain propose to gain by
invading France with a force of about twelve thousand men? He takes
a town or so, which he cannot keep--he effects a landing under great
difficulties on our most dangerous coast, and lands only to embark
again."
"The British did not invade France with the hope of conquest," said
Jacqueline; "but to harass us and destroy our arsenals it would
appear."
"Well, fair cousin, it may be so; but as the Duc de Marlborough is
not like his namesake who fought against the Grand Monarque, I don't
believe our courtiers at Paris or Versailles were very much alarmed
by this recent landing of a handful of British at Cancalle Bay. At
Versailles, they quite laughed at the idea of John Bull's vast
armament to burn some fifteen or twenty old crazy hulks at St.
Solidore."
"Fifteen or twenty, monsieur," said I, with unwise pique; "I thought
the British destroyed eighty-six vessels of all kinds, and sank or
destroyed two hundred and thirty-four pieces of cannon."
"_Peste!_ you are well informed, my fair soubrette," said the
captain, fixing his glass in his eye, and giving me a steady stare,
while Jacqueline looked at me imploringly, and with intense alarm.
"Peace, Basile," said the countess, severely.
"But so many troops are now entering Brittany from all points,"
resumed the chevalier, "to strengthen the hands of the Duc
d'Aiguillon, that I don't think our island neighbours will be so rash
as to visit us again."
Kettledrums were now heard in the distance. I felt my cheek
flush--my ears tingle at the sound; and when I looked up from my
skein of silk, the keen eyes of Boisguiller were still regarding me.
"Already I must tear myself away, countess," said he, rising; "my
troop will be here immediately."
"Why not halt for a time?"
"Nay, madame, a hundred men and horses are too many to trespass on
your generosity, as our advanced party did before. Adieu,
mademoiselle!" said he, kissing the hand of Jacqueline with a
tenderness that certainly was _not_ bestowed upon the yellow fingers
of the Aunt Ninon; "adieu, pretty Angelique--and you, what is your
name, mademoiselle?"
"Basile."
"Have you any tender messages for the Queen's Own Hussars? Believe
me, girls, you are both too pretty to become the helpmates of
charcoal-burners, and Breton woodcutters; so think of _us_ sometimes."
Then with a low bow the chevalier pirouetted out of the room, and my
heart beat more freely when I heard his horse galloping down the
avenue.