Day was breaking when the clumsy vehicle reached the village nearest to
its island destination. Canolles, feeling that it had ceased to move,
passed his head through the little loophole intended to furnish air
to those who were free, and conveniently arranged to shut it off from
prisoners.
A pretty little village, consisting of some hundred houses grouped
about a church on a hillside, and overlooked by a château, was sharply
outlined in the clear morning air, gilded by the first rays of the sun,
which put to flight the thin, gauzy patches of vapor.
Just then the wagon started on up the incline, and the coachman left
the box and walked beside the vehicle.
"My friend," said Canolles, "are you of this province?"
"Yes, monsieur, I am from Libourne."
"In that case you should know this village. What is yonder white house,
and those pretty cottages?"
"The château, monsieur," was the reply, "is the manor house of Cambes,
and the village is one of its dependencies."
Canolles started back, and his face instantly changed from the deepest
red to deathly white.
"Monsieur," interposed Barrabas, whose round eye nothing escaped, "did
you hurt yourself against the window?"
"No--thanks," said Canolles, and continued his examination of the
peasant. "To whom does the property belong?" he asked.
"The Vicomtesse de Cambes."
"A young widow?"
"Very beautiful and very rich."
"And, consequently, much sought after?"
"Of course; a handsome dowry and a handsome woman; with that
combination one doesn't lack suitors."
"Of good reputation?"
"Yes, but a furious partisan of the princes."
"I think I have heard so."
"A demon, monsieur, a downright demon!"
"An angel!" murmured Canolles, whose thoughts, whenever they recurred
to Claire, recurred to her with transports of adoration,--"an angel!"
"Does she live here some of the time?" he inquired, raising his voice.
"Rarely, monsieur; but she did live here for a long while. Her husband
left her here, and as long as she remained, her presence was a blessing
to the whole countryside. Now she is said to be with the princess."
The carriage, having reached the top of the hill, was ready to go down
again on the other side; the driver made a motion with his hand to ask
permission to resume his place upon the box, and Canolles, who feared
that he might arouse suspicion by continuing his questions, drew his
head back into the lumbering vehicle, which started down hill at a slow
trot, its most rapid gait.
After a quarter of an hour, during which time Canolles, still under the
eye of Barrabas, was absorbed in gloomy reflection, the wagon halted
again.
"Do we stop here for breakfast?" Canolles asked.
"We stop here altogether, monsieur. We have reached our destination.
Yonder is Île Saint-Georges. We have only the river to cross now."
"True," muttered Canolles; "so near and yet so far!"
"Monsieur, some one is coming to meet us," said Barrabas; "be good
enough to prepare to alight."
The second of Canolles' keepers, who was sitting on the box beside the
driver, climbed down and unlocked the door, to which he had the key.
Canolles removed his eyes from the little white château, upon which he
had kept them fixed, to the fortress which was to be his abode. He saw
in the first place, on the other side of a swiftly flowing arm of the
river, a ferry-boat, and beside it a guard of eight men and a sergeant.
Behind them were the outworks of the citadel.
"Ah!" said Canolles to himself, "I am expected, it seems, and due
precautions are taken.--Are those my new guards?" he asked Barrabas,
aloud.
"I would be glad to answer monsieur's question intelligently; but
really I have no idea."
At that moment, after exchanging signals with the sentinel on duty
at the entrance to the fortress, the eight soldiers and the sergeant
entered the ferry-boat, crossed the Garonne, and stepped ashore just as
Canolles stepped to the ground.
Immediately the sergeant, seeing an officer, approached him and gave
the military salute.
"Have I the honor of addressing Monsieur le Baron de Canolles, captain
in the Navailles regiment?" he asked.
"Himself," replied Canolles, marvelling at the man's politeness.
The sergeant turned to his men, ordered them to present arms, and
pointed with the end of his pike to the boat. Canolles took his place
between his two guards, the eight men and the sergeant embarked after
him, and the boat moved away from the shore, while Canolles cast a
last glance at Cambes, which was just passing out of sight behind some
rising ground.
The island was almost covered with scarps, counter-scarps, glaces, and
bastions; a small fort in reasonably good condition overlooked all
these outworks. The entrance was through an arched gateway, in front of
which a sentinel was pacing back and forth.
"_Qui vive?_" he cried.
The little troop halted, the sergeant walked up to the sentinel, and
said a few words to him.
"To arms!" cried the sentinel.
Immediately a score of men, who composed the picket, issued from a
guard-house, and hastily drew up in line in front of the gateway.
"Come, monsieur," said the sergeant to Canolles. The drum began to beat.
"What does this mean?" said the young man to himself.
He walked toward the fort, quite at a loss to understand what was going
on; for all these preparations resembled military honors paid to a
superior much more than precautionary measures concerning a prisoner.
Nor was this all. Canolles did not notice that, just as he stepped from
the carriage, a window in the governor's apartments was thrown open,
and an officer stationed thereat watched attentively the movements of
the boat and the reception given to the prisoner and his two keepers.
This officer, when Canolles stepped from the boat upon the island,
hastily left the window, and hurried down to meet him.
"Aha!" said Canolles, as his eye fell upon him, "here comes the
commandant to inspect his new boarder."
"I should say, monsieur," said Barrabas, "judging from appearances,
that you'll not be left to languish a week in the anteroom like some
people; you will be entered on the books at once."
"So much the better!" said Canolles.
Meanwhile the officer was drawing near. Canolles assumed the haughty,
dignified attitude of a persecuted man.
A few steps from Canolles the officer removed his hat.
"Have I the honor of addressing Monsieur le Baron de Canolles?" he
asked.
"Monsieur," the prisoner replied, "I am truly overwhelmed by your
courtesy. Yes, I am Baron de Canolles; treat me, I beg you, as one
officer might treat another, and assign me as comfortable quarters as
possible."
"Monsieur," said the officer, "the place is not in the best of
condition, but, as if in anticipation of your wishes, all possible
improvements have been made."
"Whom should I thank for such unusual attention?" Canolles asked with a
smile.
"The king, monsieur, who does well all that he does."
"To be sure, monsieur, to be sure. God forbid that I should slander his
Majesty, especially on this occasion; I should not be sorry, however,
to obtain certain information."
"If you so desire, monsieur, I am at your service; but I will take the
liberty of reminding you that the garrison is waiting to make your
acquaintance."
"_Peste!_" muttered Canolles, "a whole garrison to make the
acquaintance of a prisoner who is to be shut up! Here's a deal of
ceremony, I should say."