When my worthy acquaintance Hubert and his companions had departed in
the manner I have described in the last chapter, I had time to look
round me, and consider both my own situation and theirs who had just
left me.
From everything I had seen I could not doubt that the encounter with
the courier and his escort had taken place, and that the robbers had
proved successful. It was evident, however, that the struggle had been
severe; and from the slaughter of three of their horses, as well as
from their leaving a fourth for myself, I was led to conclude that
four of the gang had perished in the affray. At all events, no doubt
could exist as to their having left their late dwelling for ever; and
I certainly was not a little obliged to them for the care which they
had taken to provide me with the means of pursuing my journey.
Nevertheless, I judged that it might be expedient to examine their
habitation and its vicinity thoroughly before I quitted it; and, on
doing so, I found that in the hurry of their departure they had left
behind them my own saddle and accoutrements, which I instantly placed
upon the horse instead of those with which they had furnished him, not
knowing how far the fact of sitting in a thief's saddle might not
compromise me with those who might chance to be in pursuit of the
thief. Having added my own peculiar saddlebags to the load of my
charger, I took such a general survey of the ground and the road which
led to it as might be useful afterwards, and, bidding farewell to the
old mill, made the best of my way back to the high road. As I never
forgot a path that I had once travelled, I had no difficulty in
retracing my steps to the exact point at which I had fallen into the
hands of the robbers, and gladly found myself once more on the road
towards St. Malo, free from any apprehension of fresh interruption.
The affray, however, with the courier and his escort, must have taken
place farther up the road, for it could not have failed to have left
bloody traces wherever it occurred; and I met with none such in my
onward journey, which I now pursued in the same direction that I had
been following when I was interrupted. To tell the truth, I was not at
all sorry to have no direct knowledge of the affair, for in these
cases concealment is almost as bad as the crime itself, and it must be
remembered that I was not in a situation to put my head willingly into
the jaws of justice. I was, therefore, well contented that the robbery
of the courier, and the murder of his escort, had passed totally
without my personal cognisance, although I had no doubt whatever of
the facts. To put myself as far, too, from the scene as possible, I
galloped on pretty quickly till I came to a carrefour, where the road
I was pursuing was crossed by that from St. Aubin to Rennes. It was at
the distance of at least ten miles from the scene of my late
adventures; and as I came up to it I perceived, seated on the little
mound of earth at the foot of the guide-post, a man in the dress of a
pedlar, with his box of wares laid down by his side. At first he was
turned in such a manner as to prevent me from seeing his face; but the
sound of my horses' feet causing him to look round, he displayed a
countenance garnished with a long black beard, an ornament which at
that time was beginning to fall into great disrepute throughout all
civilized Europe--so much so, indeed, that no such thing was to be
seen in all France, except perhaps on the faces of Jews and Capuchins,
and a few which had descended from the reign of Henri Quatre, and
were, I suppose, valued by their owners on the score of their
antiquity.
The one before me at present was voluminous and massy; but,
nevertheless, it did not serve to conceal from me the identity of the
wearer with an acquaintance whose face had boasted no such appendage a
fortnight before. I affected not to recognise him, however, and,
dismounting from my horse--which instantly betrayed its ancient habits
by browsing the roadside--I sat down on the same mound with the other
traveller, and began conversing with him as a peddling Jew. He spoke
learnedly and lamentably upon the evils and inconveniences of his own
profession, and ended by moralising so sagely upon the necessity of
bearing our own portion of ills with constancy and calmness, that I
could not help exclaiming, "Ah! my dear philosopher, you are now quite
complete: when I knew you on the Quai des Orfèvres you wanted nothing
of Socrates but the beard."
Jacques Marlot shook his head. "Can your eyes see through stone walls,
little serpent," he cried; "but remark what your good crowns have done
for me; procured me this box of trumpery, and a beard that is worth
half the money."
"I am heartily glad to see you so well equipped," replied I; "although
your imprudence, joined to my own, had very nearly procured me a
journey to the Bastile, and has actually caused me to be stripped of a
thousand crowns." I then related to the ci-devant printer all that had
occurred to me since we last met, and I was glad to find that he
sincerely felt for all the inconveniences I had suffered, and pressed
me to take back again the sum of five crowns, which was all that he
had remaining of the thirty I had given him. He declared at the same
time that he himself could do very well without, for that the contents
of his box, assisted by a fluent tongue and the gullibility of the
peasantry, had proved quite sufficient, since he began his new trade,
to maintain him as well as he could desire, though, to say the truth,
his taste for the good things of life was not the most moderate.
I refused to accept his offer, of course, telling him that money was
quite unnecessary to me, as I counted upon reaching the castle of
Monsieur de Villardin in less than an hour.
"You are quite mistaken, my son," he replied; "whether you mean his
castle of the Prés Vallée, or that of Dumont; the first being at the
distance of at least twenty, and the latter nearly forty miles from
the place where we now stand."
This intelligence surprised me a good deal, as I found that I had
entirely miscalculated my situation, and had mistaken my road. Jacques
Marlot, however, who, as well as his uncle, good Jerome Laborde, was a
native of the country, and acquainted with every rood of ground round
about, undertook to guide me on my way, and, walking my horse by his
side as he trudged on, we arrived within a few miles of Rennes that
night. The next morning, after sleeping in one of the neighbouring
villages, we separated, he intending to proceed to St. Malo, to carry
on his traffic with any of the seamen arriving from foreign ports, and
I turned my steps in the direction of the Prés Vallée, to which he
pointed out the road.
No farther accident or adventure occurred to delay my arrival, and,
about ten o'clock in the morning, I reached the place of my
destination. Here I was received with all due deference by the
domestics who tenanted the house, and delivered all the letters which
I bore to the farmers and receivers of Monsieur de Villardin.
Nothing could be more beautiful, though nothing could be more solemn,
than the aspect of the castle, and the scene that surrounded it. It
was a fortified house, of no great military strength, situated on a
slight eminence, rising above the vast rich meadows that stretch for
many miles along the borders of the Vilaine. These meadows were
broken--for I cannot call it separated--by large belts of magnificent
forest trees, which seemed to owe their planting to the hand of nature
rather than to that of man, but which, nevertheless, had been so
skilfully thinned, that the boughs of one never interfered with the
boughs of another; and each grew up in liberty, protecting, as it
were, under its branches, its own particular domain, without
infringing upon the bounds of its neighbour. Each of these belts
varied in shape and distribution; but each left from fifty to sixty
acres of pasture ground clear and open within its circuit, with the
river generally forming the boundary on one side, and the trees
sweeping round on every other, so that each meadow seemed to be a spot
of rich ground which had been cleared and cultivated ages ago, in the
midst of a vast forest, the trees of which were still standing around.
In fact, a person placed in the centre of any of these open spaces,
saw nothing but wood beyond the meadow that surrounded him, till,
walking on for a minute or two, under the shade of gigantic elms and
oaks, he entered another wide pasture field like that he had just
left.
The effect of the whole would have been gloomy, had it not been
enlivened by the frequent turns of the river, and the sight of cattle
and sheep feeding in the various savannahs, under the charge of their
several herds, who most frequently were found cheering their
occupation with a song. There was something calm, and simple, and
patriarchal in the whole scene, which struck me greatly as I passed
through it; and I could have fancied myself removed by thousands of
years and thousands of miles from the countries and the times through
which I had lately been moving.
The castle itself, built of cold grey stone, and covered in several
parts with ivy, was in perfect harmony with everything around it; and
the good taste of Monsieur de Villardin, who entered fully into the
peculiar character of the scene, had left all the furniture and
decorations of the house--which were rich and good, though in antique
style and form--exactly as they had come into his possession.
As I propose to write down in this book the changes of my disposition
and character as I advanced through life, as well as the various turns
of fortune that attended me in my progress through the world, I must
pause for a moment to speak of that which was passing within my own
heart, while the events which I have described were working out my
general fate.
A new spirit was about this time beginning to spring up in my bosom,
and a taste for things that I never before enjoyed was every day
developing itself more and more. Whether it was that Lord Masterton
had first called my attention to the beauties of nature, or whether it
was that before my acquaintance with him I never had time to think of
them, I cannot tell; but certainly I began to feel a delight in the
aspect of such scenes as the Prés Vallée, which formerly I had never
experienced; and during the first two or three days, I fancied that I
could remain there alone for ever.
I had not yet learned, it is true, to examine very closely what I
felt, but I remember at the time thinking it strange, that whereas not
two years before I could have passed through the fairest scenes in
nature without giving them any particular attention, unless they were
lighted up by pike and gun, I now stopped to gaze, without well
knowing why, whenever anything that was fair or sweet met my eye. I
might not, indeed, look at Nature's face with the feelings of a
painter or of a poet; but I certainly did begin to experience great
pleasure in the contemplation of a beautiful prospect, and would turn
away when I had done so, pleased, but thoughtful,--I might almost say,
sad.
I felt this more than I had ever felt it before in the solitude of my
new dwelling, and many an hour I passed away in various sylvan sports,
which, while they gave me active employment, still led me into the
fairest scenes in the country round.
Nevertheless, I found myself bound in duty to Monsieur de Villardin to
make him acquainted with all the incidents of my journey; and though
at that time I loved not sitting at a desk, even as long as was
required to write a short letter, yet, forcing myself to the task with
a great effort, I detailed everything that had occurred to me, and
despatched the epistle to St. Aubin,--for I would not trust it at
Rennes--to go by the next ordinary courier to Paris. Nothing happened
to disturb my tranquillity for the ten days that followed, and I
remained fishing in the streams, or shooting the wolves and the boars,
with very little intermission. On one occasion, indeed, having a
letter to deliver from the Duke to his intendant at his other estate
of Dumont, I rode over thither, and found a very different scene from
that presented by the Prés Vallée--rocks and mountains, and streams
and waterfalls, with a modern house, modern alleys, modern bridges,
and modern furniture. In the mood which then possessed me, however, the
Prés Vallée was more to my taste, and I returned to its calm shades as
soon as possible, leaving the letter to be delivered to the intendant,
who was absent at the time of my arrival.
At the end of ten days a courier reached the Prés Vallée from Paris,
bringing a large packet addressed to myself, on opening which I found
a short letter from Monsieur de Villardin, directing me to wait for a
fortnight longer in Brittany for the purpose of bringing up the rents
of several of his farms, and referring to another more voluminous
paper contained in the same packet, which, as I soon perceived,
expressed the will and pleasure of the King that no proceedings should
take place against John Marston Hall, for the rescue of a prisoner
from the hands of the criminal lieutenant, and authorized him to plead
the royal grace and pardon in all matters referring thereto.
This, as may well be supposed, afforded a great relief to my mind, for
it was by no means pleasant to go about the world with the fear of the
Bastile hanging about the neck of one's imagination. Although I had
now no apprehensions from the pursuit of justice, I soon began to feel
the solitude of the Prés Vallée less delightful than it had seemed at
first; and though, had there been any one to share my sports, or to
occupy my time, I should still have enjoyed it much; yet the hours
gradually became somewhat tiresome, shut up in an old castle, with
nothing but solemn woods around one, and a library of old books for my
sole companions. I now, however, found the Latin with which Lord
Masterton had furnished me turn to some account; and after having read
Ovid two or three times through, I dipped into Lucan, and pored over
several other books, in order to while away the evenings.
At length, with infinite joy, I heard that the rents were all paid
into the hands of the intendant, with the exception of a small sum,
which was expected the next day; and I directed the courier, who had
remained for the purpose of returning with me to Paris, to prepare for
our journey on the third day. Scarcely had I given the order, however,
when a letter reached me, brought by the King's ordinary to Rennes. It
was in the hand-writing of Monsieur de Villardin, and contained but a
few words, which were evidently written under feelings of agitation or
haste. In this billet, for letter I can scarcely call it, he directed
me to forbear my journey, as he himself and his whole household would
be at the Prés Vallée in six days from the date of his letter; and he
then went on to bid me communicate this fact to the various domestics
in the château, in order that it might be prepared, as usual, for his
reception.
This change of destination was not unpleasant to me, for all I now
wanted was society and occupation; and, prevented as I had been, by my
youth and my English birth, from entering into the debaucheries or
factions of Paris, its routine had become wearisome to me even before
I quitted it. All was now bustle in the château. As the autumn was
coming on, fires were lighted in every apartment, and busy hands were
engaged in removing the dust which, during the last two years, had
accumulated in the untenanted rooms. My solitary residence of a month
in the midst of such scenes as those around me had, I believe, done
more to call forth whatever portion of imagination entered into the
composition of John Marston Hall than all the events of his former
life. Lord Masterton, as I had before said, had done a good deal, it
is true; but even when I quitted him, my great thirst was for action,
not for thought. Now a new ingredient seemed mingling with my nature:
I began to view the things around me in a different light; and though
I would fain have had some one to converse with, yet I could dream
even alone. Thus, during the next two or three days, when the evening
had closed in, and I was left in the old library by myself, after
reading for an hour or two, I would rise, and without a candle, wander
through all the dim vast halls and gloomy chambers of the Prés Vallée,
watching the flickering light of the fires, kindled in each chamber to
scare away the damp, as the flame flashed faintly from time to time
upon the rich arras and dark hangings, and dreaming all the time of
heaven knows what compound of scenes and adventures which those
chambers might have witnessed in times past.
My conduct in these respects, indeed, was somewhat strangely
misconstrued by an old female domestic who always remained in the
house; but as the misconstruction was all to my advantage, I had no
reason to complain. By a little civility and kindness, I had
established with her the character of a complete ph[oe]nix of pages;
and I afterwards found that old Marguerite assured Madame de
Villardin, on her arrival, that I had every night made a complete tour
of the château to see that the fires were burning, and the rooms
properly aired. At length, after waiting two days in hourly
expectation of the coming of Monsieur de Villardin, an avant-courier
arrived, and in about two hours more the cavalcade appeared in the
avenue. In Paris, where one never saw the whole household of the Duke
collected, one was not aware of the numbers it contained; but now,
when two carriages, each containing eight people, and drawn by six
horses, were followed up to the gates by twenty-four horsemen, one
begun to have a much more respectful idea of Monsieur de Villardin's
establishment than one had formerly entertained. The Duke himself was
on horseback; and, springing to the ground the first, he gave his hand
to the Duchess, who appeared to me pale and languid. Both spoke kindly
to me: but I could clearly perceive that something was wrong in the
domestic comfort of the family; and I soon found that the defects of
Monsieur de Villardin's temper and character had not been greatly
improved since I had left Paris. Old Jerome Laborde was my principal
oracle in these matters, and from him I learned, that for some weeks
the Duchess had been very gay in the capital; had been out
continually, except when she received company at home, and had been
universally admired and praised. All this had been less agreeable to
Monsieur de Villardin than it might have been to a man of a more happy
disposition; and after becoming irritable and morose in a considerable
degree, he had suddenly announced his determination of retiring to
Brittany.
Madame de Villardin, unconscious of offence herself, and, as most
women do, mistaking her husband's character, endeavoured to argue him
out of his resolution. A discussion ensued, the particulars of which
did not transpire, even to the all inquiring ears of soubrettes and
valets de chambre; but the whole household perceived that it must have
been bitter and severe, for when it was over, Madame de Villardin was
found fainting, and bathed in tears. The arrangements for departure
were hurried from that moment: and before three days were over, the
whole party were on their way to the Prés Vallée.
As the old man told me this story spontaneously, I thought I might, at
least, venture to ask whether he believed the Duke to have any real
cause for the jealousy that he evidently felt.
"None on earth," replied the major-domo. "My lady is gay and lively,
and loves well enough to be admired: but she loves my lord dearly, we
are all convinced; and, depend upon it, no woman ever went astray yet
without the servants finding it out."