SUSPENSE.
I have but little courage to write of what followed this upbraiding
interview and degrading discovery; for one episode of horror followed
another.
I resumed the green hunting suit of the absent count, and Angelique
was filled with dismay when she saw me clad in it, as she dreaded the
punishment that would be awarded for her connivance in the recent
masquerading; and moreover she loved her young mistress dearly. Then
she wept when she found it was ordained that I was to depart secretly
that night on horseback, and that it was to be given out that Basile
the paysanne from the Morbihan, had eloped or run away.
I was to be the bearer of a special letter from madame to the Comte
de Boisguiller, Governor of St. Malo, charging him by his old
allegiance to her, and his present friendship, to have me despatched
on board the first British ship that came in sight of the city, or
sent by an especial boat to the Isle of Jersey: in short, to get me
out of the province at all hazards, and quietly too.
It occurred to me that the count might neither seek a ship nor send a
boat, but instead of obeying his venerable inamorata, might cast me
into a vault at St. Malo as a prisoner; however, I felt so crushed,
so crestfallen and miserable by the sudden, though not unexpected
turn the matter had taken, that for a long time after these events I
cared very little what became of me.
The evening drew on, and twilight deepened into night. Then Madame
de Bourgneuf, on inquiring for her niece, found that she was not
within the chateau; on this she had the great bell rung repeatedly to
summon her from the garden or grounds; but it rang in vain, for there
was no appearance of our Jacqueline. After this the countess sent
for me, and addressing me sternly, said--
"Monsieur, my letter for M. le Comte de Boisguiller is here, ready
written and sealed, the horse which is to bear you to St. Malo is
ready in the stable, saddled and bridled, but you shall not pass the
gate of Bourgneuf until mademoiselle returns to her apartment. Do
you understand me?"
"I beseech you, madame----"
"Beseech me not!" she interrupted, sharply. "There is some other
trick--some vile plot in this prolonged absence at an hour so
unusual, and on the eve of your departure, too; so I shall keep you
as a hostage for her."
But as the first hours of this anxious night drew on, the surprise of
the countess and her household took the new phase of alarm and fear,
a feeling that was quickened by my repeated assurances of ignorance,
and my too evident deep anxiety. The avenue of yew and orange-trees,
the lawn and its shrubbery, the borders of the lake, the garden, the
labyrinth, and every room, turret, and corner of the chateau, were
rigidly searched without success, for no trace of the missing one was
found, till Urbain the gardener picked up, near the door of the bower
in which we had been seated when madame discovered us, a small kid
glove and a gold bracelet, which we knew belonged to Jacqueline.
Near these, on a bush, were some fragments of lace torn from her
dress; and when inspected by lantern light the garden-walk and border
bore evidence of a struggle; the flowers were crushed and bushes
torn, and in the earth were the deep footmarks of a man who wore
sabots.
About ten yards from the bower we found a small axe, which had been
lost or cast away. It was such as woodmen generally used, and cut
upon the handle, appeared the name of T. HAUTOIS!
The deductions we drew from these traces and indications filled my
soul with the keenest alarm and horror!
* * * * *
That Jacqueline had been violently assaulted, carried off, and
perhaps killed ruthlessly by this outlaw, who had so long vowed
vengeance on her family, and whom Jacquot and I had both seen lurking
in the grounds during the past week, seemed beyond all doubt. Of his
extreme cunning, ingenuity, and of the length his daring and
brutality could carry him, I had already had ample proof, and my
heart sickened as imagination pictured the gentle, soft, and
delicately nurtured Jacqueline, writhing and helpless in his felon
hands.
The lamentations of Angelique and the female domestics were mingled
with the oaths and maledictions of the men, who proceeded at once to
arm themselves with muskets and pistols; and now it was that Madame
de Bourgneuf, in her despair, was disposed to rely on me.
She pressed my hand in hers, and said, in a broken voice--
"Monsieur, if you ever loved my niece, as you say you do, aid in her
rescue from this demon!"
I returned the pressure in silence, and was making preparation to
scour the roads and thickets which covered all the district, when,
amid our consternation, the tramp of horses was heard, and the
Chevalier de Boisguiller, accompanied by twelve hussars, rode
hurriedly up to the gate.
The countess was standing on the front door-steps of the chateau,
pale, trembling, and her eyes red with weeping. Some ten men,
including Urbain, the valets, gardeners, and grooms, stood around
her, loading their arms, fixing and snapping their flints and
lighting torches and lanterns, for darkness had long since set
completely in.
The Chevalier dismounted, threw his bridle-reins to a hussar, and
advancing to the countess, said, with a smiling bow--
"_Peste!_ but I seem to have come at a critical time, madame. Has
the lake been poached--the hen-roost robbed, or what, that you are
preparing to take the field like a chatelaine of old?"
"Oh, chevalier, you have indeed come at a most critical time. Heaven
itself must have sent you!"
"Not at all," replied the heedless hussar. "I am such a sad dog that
I fear Heaven has long since given me up as incorrigible, but I have
been sent here by order of the count, my father, with a sergeant and
twelve troopers. You must learn, that on the day I had last the
honour to visit you, a letter came to the commandant of St. Malo--a
private letter, oddly spelled, on a very crumpled piece of paper, and
bearing the feigned signature of Theophile Damien, but bringing
information that an English spy was secreted _here_. So, as duty
compelled the count to see into the matter, and friendship urged that
he should spare you an affront, he despatched me to make the
necessary inquiries. Now I remember me of a soubrette of my
cousin's----"
"Monsieur le Chevalier," said the poor countess, speaking rapidly
amid a torrent of tears, "the person of whom you speak is no spy--for
that you have my word of honour."
The chevalier bowed low, with his right hand on his heart, accepting
the pledge for me.
"He is no spy, and must be protected. He it was who saved the life
of Jacqueline, and will peril his life with you to save her once
again, if indeed it be not too late already."
"Again--too late--what do you mean?"
"She means, chevalier," said I, "that Mademoiselle Jacqueline has
been torn from us by a ruffian of the most daring and unscrupulous
character--by Hautois, the galley-slave."
"Hautois!" repeated the chevalier, with indescribable alarm.
"By Hautois, and thus your arrival is most opportune. I am the
person referred to in your orders; but for Heaven's sake--for the
sake of Mademoiselle Jacqueline, waste no time or thought on me. I
will assist you, aid you with my life to save, to rescue her, and
after that is achieved, deal with me as you will."
For a full minute the Frenchman seemed to lose his invincible
self-possession on hearing all this, but in a few words I acquainted
him with what had occurred, and urged the necessity of immediate
action. On hearing the name of Hautois, with whose story he was
familiar, the chevalier changed colour, and appeared much disturbed
and alarmed.
"If 'tis he, we have indeed no time to lose," said he, through his
clenched teeth; "but the pursuit must be on horseback--the servants
can beat the woods, while my hussars shall scour the roads. You
ride, monsieur, I presume?"
Under other circumstances I might have smiled at the question, but
then I simply replied in the affirmative.
"_Bon!_ then get a horse from the stables, and let us begone."
In a few minutes our plan was detailed, and we all separated,
inspired by anxiety and excitement. Three hussars took the road
towards Dinan; three towards St. Paul le Plenguen; three on that
which led to Montford, and other three on that which led towards
Rennes. The armed servants under Urbain the gardener and the porter,
who had been once a soldier, proceeded to search the woods and
forests, while the chevalier and I departed at a gallop towards St.
Aubin du Cormier, stopping for inquiry every person we met on the
road.
The chateau was to be our point of rendezvous.
"Save her--bring her home in safety," were the parting words of the
countess, "and I vow to God to hang a silver lamp worth a thousand
livres on the altar at Roscoff!"
This was a little chapel near Leon in Brittany, built by Mary Queen
of Scots, in memory of her landing there during a storm when on her
voyage from Scotland to France.