While these events were transpiring in the forest of Pont Brillant,
Madame Bastien was a prey to the most poignant anxiety. Faithful to the
promise she had made Frederick the evening before, she waited until
nearly one o'clock in the afternoon before entering her son's room.
Believing he was still sleeping, she hoped he would derive much benefit
from this restful slumber.
The young mother was in her chamber, which adjoined her son's room,
listening every now and then for some sound that would seem to indicate
that her son was awake, when Marguerite, their old servant, came in to
ask for some instructions.
"Speak low, and close the door carefully," said Marie. "I don't want my
son waked."
"M. Frederick, madame; why, he went out this morning at sunrise with his
gun."
To rush into her son's bedroom was the work of only an instant.
Frederick was not there; his gun, too, was missing.
Several hours passed, but Frederick did not appear, and the light of the
dull November day was already beginning to wane when Marguerite came
running in.
"Madame, madame," she exclaimed, "here is Father Andre! He saw M.
Frederick this morning."
"You saw my son this morning, Andre? What did he say to you? Where is he
now?" cried Madame Bastien, eagerly.
"Yes, madame, M. Frederick came to me for some bullets about sunrise
this morning."
"Bullets? What did he want of them?" asked the anxious mother, trying to
drive away the horrible suspicion that had suddenly presented itself to
her mind. "Did he want them for hunting?"
"Of course, madame; for M. Frederick told me that Jean Francois--you
know Jean Francois, the farmer near Coudraie?"
"Yes, yes, I know; go on."
"It seems that Jean Francois told M. Frederick yesterday that a wild
boar got into his garden a night or two ago, and ruined his potatoes;
and M. Frederick told me he was going to station himself in a
hiding-place that Jean Francois knew of, and kill the animal."
"But that is so dangerous," cried Madame Bastien. "Frederick never shot
at a boar in his life. If he misses, he is sure to be killed."
"I don't think you need feel any anxiety, madame. M. Frederick is an
excellent shot, and--"
"Then my son is at the farmer's house now, I suppose?"
"I presume so, as he is going with the farmer this evening."
A quarter of an hour afterward the young mother, panting and
breathless,--for she had run every step of the way,--knocked at the door
of the farmhouse, where Jean Francois and his wife and children were
seated around the fire.
"Jean Francois, take me where my son is at once," cried Madame Bastien;
then she added, reproachfully, "How could you allow a youth of his age
to expose himself to such danger? But come, I entreat you, come, it may
not be too late to prevent this imprudence on his part."
The farmer and his wife exchanged looks of profound astonishment, then
Jean Francois said:
"Excuse me, madame, but I've no idea what you mean."
"Didn't you complain to my son last night of a wild boar that had been
ravaging your garden?"
"Oh, the boars find so many nuts in the forest this year that they are
not inclined to leave it. They have done us no damage up to the present
time, thank Heaven."
"But you urged my son to come and take a shot at some boar."
"No, madame, no; I never even spoke of any boar to him."
Overcome with dread and consternation, Marie stood perfectly silent and
motionless for a moment. At last she murmured:
"Frederick lied to Andre. And those bullets--my God!--those bullets,
what did he intend to do with them?"
The honest farmer, seeing Madame Bastien's intense anxiety, and thinking
to reassure her at least in a measure, said to her:
"I never said anything to M. Frederick about hunting boars, but if you
want to find him, I think I know where he is."
"You have seen him, then?"
"Yes, madame. Madame knows that steep hill about a mile from the Vieille
Coupe road, as you go to the chateau through the forest?"
"Yes, yes; what of it?"
"Why, just at dusk I was coming down that hill on my way home, when I
saw M. Frederick come out of the forest and cross the road on the run."
"How long ago was this?"
"At least half an hour."
"Jean Francois, you are a good man. I am in great trouble. Take me to
the place where you saw my son, I implore you," pleaded the young
mother.
"I see what the trouble is, madame, and I don't know but you have good
cause to feel anxious--"
"Go on--go on."
"Well, the fact is that you're afraid that M. Frederick may be caught
poaching in the Pont Brillant woods. I feel in the same way, madame, and
I honestly think we have reason to be alarmed, for the young marquis is
bitter against poachers, and as jealous of his game as his deceased
father used to be. His guards are always on the watch, and if they find
M. Frederick poaching it will go hard with him."
"Yes, yes, that is what I am afraid of," replied Madame Bastien,
quickly. "You see we haven't a minute to lose. Jean Francois, I must get
my son away at any cost."