PHILIPPE AVAILS HIMSELF OF MAÎTRE PICARD’S HORSE FOR THE MARCHIONESS
Philippe Glazer made the best use of the time taken up in the
enactment of this hurried scene. Urging the horse on, he had already
left the scattered houses of La Villette behind them, and was now in
the open country, hastening as fast as the snow would permit towards
Le Bourget, at which village he had an acquaintance who would give him
and his companion temporary shelter, and lend him a fresh horse, if
requisite. The road was long and straight, and any light could be seen
at a great distance. As they proceeded, still in silence, Marie kept
watching from the back of the tumbrel, to give the student the first
alarm of any indications of pursuit.
‘Philippe,’ at length she exclaimed in a low voice, as though she
thought it would be heard in the extreme distance, ‘they are coming! I
can see the lights at La Villette moving. Exili has betrayed us; what
must be done?’
Her conductor jumped down to the ground as she spoke, and looked
towards the hamlet, where the cressets were indeed visible. Every
moment of advance was now most precious. He applied the lash with
renewed activity to the flanks and legs of the horse, but with little
effect. The animal was tired when he started; and the snow was now
clogging round the wheels, rendering any material progress beyond his
strength. At last, on coming to a deep drift, after a few attempts to
drag the tumbrel through, he stopped altogether.
‘Malediction!’ muttered Philippe through his teeth; ‘everything is
against us.’
‘They appear to be coming on at a fast trot,’ exclaimed Marie, as she
hastily descended from the vehicle and stood at the side of the
student. ‘We cannot possibly escape them.’
‘I am not foiled yet,’ replied Philippe. ‘We cannot outrun them, so we
must try stratagem.’
Fortunately there was a small by-road running into a species of copse
at the wayside, upon which was stored large stacks of firewood. Giving
the Marchioness his whip, he directed her to flog the horse, whilst he
himself with all his power turned one of the wheels. Marie
complied--it was no time to hesitate; and by their united efforts they
urged the animal forward, turning him off the road towards the copse,
behind one of whose wood piles the vehicle was soon concealed.
‘Now,’ he said, ‘if they do not see us, we are safe.’
A few minutes of terrible anxiety supervened as the patrol came on at
a rapid pace, their arms clanking and shining in the light of the
cressets which one or two of them still carried, blazing brightly as
the quick passage through the air fanned up their flames. Sure of the
object of their pursuit, as they imagined, they did not pause to
examine any of the tracks upon the ground, but were pushing hastily
forward towards Le Bourget, where they either expected to come up with
the fugitive, or receive information that would speedily place her in
their hands. They came on, and were close to the spot where the others
had turned off the road. Marie held her breath, and clasped Philippe’s
arm convulsively; but neither uttered a syllable as they heard them
pass, and could distinctly recognise Desgrais’s voice.
‘They have gone on!’ exclaimed the Marchioness as the sounds
diminished.
‘Stop!’ said Philippe drawing her back, for she had advanced beyond
their concealment to look after the patrol; ‘do not move; there are
more to come.’
As he spoke a horseman came slowly up, who appeared to be lagging
behind the rest as a sentinel. The starlight was sufficient to show
Philippe that he was alone; and in the stillness the student could
hear the rider muttering words of displeasure, and abusing the horse,
as he rolled uneasily about on his saddle. He stopped exactly opposite
the copse, and for a moment Philippe imagined they were discovered.
But he was soon undeceived. The patrol, after vainly endeavouring to
tighten his saddle-girths as he sat on the horse, attempted to
dismount; but being short and round in figure, he could not well reach
the ground from the stirrup, and the consequence was, he rolled down,
and over and over in the snow like a ball.
‘_Mort bleu!_’ he exclaimed, as under the weight of his accoutrements
he with difficulty scrambled on to his legs. ‘_Pouf!_ every bone in my
body is broken. _Sacristie!_--miserable beast! how shall I get on you
again?’
And he very angrily, but in great fear withal, proceeded to lift up
the horse’s hoofs, and pick the snow out of them with his halberd, one
after another; having accomplished which, he tried to tighten the
girths.
‘I know the voice,’ said Philippe; ‘it is Maître Picard. I shall take
his horse.’
Pulling his student’s cap over his eyes, and disguising his voice,
Philippe left the hiding-place and advanced towards the hapless little
bourgeois--for it was the _chapelier_ of the Rue de la Harpe. Maître
Picard had laid his halberd on the snow; and Philippe, seizing it
before the other was aware of his approach, demanded his money, in the
usual tone of a road-marauder.
The bourgeois’ first exclamation was one of surprise at the unexpected
apparition; but immediately after he began to shout--
‘_Aux voleurs!_--help!--murder!--guard!’
‘Speak another word, and you shall swallow this halberd,’ said
Philippe. ‘Give me your arms.’
With wonderful celerity Maître Picard proceeded to dispossess himself
of all his accoutrements, begging earnestly that his life might be
spared, for the sake of his wife and family.
‘You are a miserable liar,’ said Philippe gruffly, ‘and I have a mind
to pin you to a tree.’ And collecting the arms, he added, ‘Now stay
here an instant. Move at your peril until I return.’
He ran back to the cart, and bringing out the lantern, put it in
Maître Picard’s hand.
‘There! take this, and return to Paris. I shall watch you along the
road, to see that you are not loitering to watch me. Be off!’
‘But the honour of a Garde Bourgeois----’ commenced Maître Picard,
somewhat vaguely.
‘Ha!’ shouted Philippe, raising the halberd as though to strike.
Maître Picard made no other attempt to remonstrate. He turned away,
and was directly progressing towards Paris as fast as his little legs
and rotund body would allow him.
As soon as Philippe saw he was beyond eye-shot, he gathered up the
arms and then returned to Marie.
‘We have a fresh and powerful horse, madame,’ he said, ‘some good
arms, and a clear way at present. We will abandon this tumbrel and use
our new prize.’
The Marchioness acceded to everything; in fact, since they had started
she had appeared completely passive, trusting entirely to the student.
Philippe took the small bundle from the cart and slung it to the
holster. He then placed Marie upon the croup of the horse, having
turned back part of the sheepskin trappings to form a seat, and got up
before her. The whole affair from Maître Picard’s first coming up did
not occupy four minutes.
‘Now, grasp me tightly,’ he said. ‘Are you ready? then _en route_!’
He struck the horse as he spoke, and the animal sprang forward,
apparently insensible of the double load he was carrying. Philippe’s
object was at all hazard to press on as far as was possible towards
Compiègne, knowing that at Offemont carriages and horses, with
everything the Marchioness needed for her flight, were at her
disposal; but the high-road between Paris and Senlis was one long
straight line, with few byways branching off from it but those which
went completely out of the way; and even along these the journey would
have been hazardous, as the snow lay over the open country in one
unbroken sheet, alike covering up the ground and the dykes to the same
level.
Desgrais and his party had evidently pushed on with speed; for
although Philippe was now riding at the rate of ten miles an hour,
they saw no signs of them ahead. The church-clock of Le Bourget[20]
struck two as they entered the village; the snow had ceased to fall,
and the stars shone somewhat more brightly; but beyond this everything
was wrapped in obscurity, except at the end of the village, where a
faint light was gleaming from one of the houses. The place consisted
of one long street, and it was necessary to pass along this. Philippe
reined up the horse, and proceeded, at a slow noiseless walk, in the
direction of the light.
‘The snow comes aptly enough,’ he said; ‘or the ring of this beast’s
shoes upon the clear frozen ground would soon have betrayed us. We
must use a little caution now. I expect they have halted at the
post-house.’
‘What do you mean to do?’ said Marie; ‘there will be danger in passing
them.’
‘It must be tried, however. If they arrive before us at Senlis the
game is up. You have courage to make the attempt, madame?’
‘I will dare anything,’ replied the Marchioness; ‘so that my bodily
energy will but keep up to my determination.’
‘Then we will try it,’ said Philippe. ‘Now, keep a tight hold, a sure
seat, and a good heart; and leave the rest to me.’
He continued walking the horse along the street until he was close
upon the post-house--a wretched cabaret enough--about which the troop
had collected, having dismounted, and knocked up the master for
refreshment and what tidings they could collect. Knowing that, in all
probability, the horse they rode would be called upon to exert all his
power, Philippe paused for a few minutes to allow the animal to draw
his breath; and then creeping in the obscurity as near the _poste_ as
he could safely, he struck the sharp and heavy stirrups into the sides
of the horse, in lieu of spurs, and dashed hurriedly by.
The alarm was instantaneous. One of the guard perceived them, and
called the others from the interior of the _auberge_. Headed by
Desgrais, they rushed out and prepared to mount. The arrangement of
their trappings took a minute or two, and then they started after the
fugitives.
Meantime the horse which bore the student and the Marchioness flew on
like the wind, with almost quivering rapidity. Philippe knew, however,
that this velocity could not be sustained for any very long time, more
especially under the extra burden; and he therefore again taxed his
invention to produce some fresh scheme by which to deceive the others.
He was aware that, somewhat further on, the road divided into two
routes, one running through Mortefontaine, and the other by La
Chapelle, and this decided him what plan to adopt. Still keeping his
horse at his full speed, which the party of Desgrais had not yet been
able to come up with, he pressed onward, and in another quarter of an
hour had arrived at the bifurcation of the route in question. Taking
the right-hand road without allowing his horse to relax his speed,
before long they entered the beginning of the street of Mortefontaine.
Philippe pulled up the horse for a few seconds, finding that
Desgrais’s party were not yet upon them; and then briefly explained to
Marie his intentions. It chanced that an old professor of medicine at
the Hôtel Dieu--one Docteur Chapelet, who had in no small degree
annoyed Philippe by his exercise of authority over the students
generally during his pupilage, had come to settle as apothecary at
Mortefontaine. Young Glazer knew the house, which was situated within
a court and _porte-cochère_ in the middle of the village, and towards
this he now rode, choosing those parts of the uneven road where the
snow was deepest, to leave the most vivid marks behind him. Coming
close to the _porte-cochère_, he immediately backed the horse into a
small watercourse running at the side of the road, and then followed
its direction until he came to a part of the road where the wind had
blown the snow, as it fell, into the hollows. By this means not a
trace of his progress was visible, after the gateway; and crossing the
road at this point, he once more put the horse into a gallop across
the bare open country, until he regained the _grande route_ which led
direct to Senlis.