GAILLARD GOES ON A JOURNEY
The first object that Robert Tournay saw as he rode into the inn yard at
La Thierry was a horse reeking with sweat. The next moment he was
greeted by the smiling face of Gaillard, who came out of the inn. "Have
you brought the passport?" cried Tournay eagerly, as he grasped his
friend by the hand.
For reply Gaillard took a paper from his pocket, unfolded it, and
disclosed the seal of the Committee of Public Safety. "Am I in time?" he
asked. "I have ridden post haste to get here with it. Can I serve you
further?"
"Come into the inn, and I'll tell you," replied Tournay. "I am almost
exhausted and must have something to eat."
Ordering some supper and a bottle of wine, which were brought at once,
Tournay helped Gaillard and himself bountifully. They ate and drank for
a few minutes in silence, Gaillard waiting for him to speak.
Gaillard was rather short in stature, with a pair of broad, athletic
shoulders. His face was freckled, and animated by a pair of particularly
active blue eyes. A large mouth, instead of adding to his plainness, was
rather attractive than otherwise, for on all occasions it would widen
into the most encouraging, good-natured smile, showing two rows of
regular, white teeth, firmly set in a strong jaw.
After he had partaken of a little food and drink, Tournay recounted to
Gaillard the substance of what had taken place at the chateau, leaving
out most of his final interview with Edme de Rochefort, but dwelling on
her flat refusal to accept his escort to the frontier.
The actor listened to him intently and in silence; his face, usually
humorous, expressive of deep and earnest thought.
"Now what do you advise?" asked Tournay, as he pushed back his plate and
emptied the last of the wine into Gaillard's glass.
"What plan have you?" questioned Gaillard.
"I mean to take her away from here at all hazards," answered Tournay.
"Quite right," nodded Gaillard.
"But I can't very well pick her up and carry her off bodily," continued
Tournay. "And if I did she would be quite capable of surrendering
herself into the hands of the first committee in the first town where
they stop us to examine our passport."
"Then we must induce her to go of her own free will."
"Which she will not do," replied Tournay gloomily.
"It seems to me," said Gaillard, speaking slowly, while he held his
glass of wine to the light and inspected it minutely, "that if some one
should approach Mademoiselle de Rochefort, purporting to come from some
of her friends who have already gone abroad, and should say he was sent
secretly to conduct her to them, she would be willing to go with him."
"Unless she suspected him to be an impostor, she might possibly go,"
replied Tournay.
"He will have to convince her that he is not an impostor, and after a
night spent in the chateau alone she is more likely to believe in him,"
was Gaillard's reply. "How about Gardin," he asked suddenly. "Do you
anticipate any further trouble from that quarter?"
"I hardly think so," replied Tournay. "I shall go back to the chateau at
once and remain in the vicinity all night unknown to Mademoiselle de
Rochefort. See if you cannot procure a carriage here suitable for a long
journey. Then come up the chateau road. I shall be in waiting for you at
the entrance to the park. We will confer together as to a plan of action
to be carried out at daylight."
"Good," replied Gaillard; "I will set about my part of the work at
once."
The two men rose from the table; Gaillard went to the inn stables and
Tournay mounted his horse and rode toward the chateau.
He had not made half the distance between the village and the chateau
when he heard a footstep crunch on the gravel of the road, and reined
in his horse just as the figure of a man crept by him.
"Who is there?" cried Tournay, clicking the hammer of his pistol.
"A good citizen," was the reply in a timid voice.
"Father, is it you?" exclaimed Tournay, springing from his horse and
approaching the figure. "Is all well at the chateau?"
"It is my son, Robert," cried the old man. "I did not recognize your
voice until after I had spoken; but I am no good citizen of your present
disorderly Republic."
"Is all well at the chateau?" repeated Robert Tournay.
"Well? How can we all be well when the doors are broken in and the
furniture strewn about the place in pieces? Can I call all well when"--
"Mademoiselle Edme?" interrupted Robert, with impatience, "how about
her?"
"She has gone," said Matthieu Tournay.
"Gone!" cried Robert, clutching his father by the shoulder. "Gone--how
and where?"
"You need not be alarmed for her safety," said the old man; "she is with
Agatha,--a brave, clever girl, capable of anything. They set out this
very night to seek a refuge with some relatives of Agatha who will keep
them in safety."
"And you permitted them to go?" demanded the younger Tournay, almost
shaking his father in his excitement.
"Permitted them? Yes, and encouraged them. I would myself have gone with
them if I had not feared that my feebleness would impede rather than
assist their flight. As it is, you need have no apprehension; when
Agatha undertakes a thing she carries it through, and mademoiselle also
is resolute and strong-willed. They will be safe enough, I warrant."
"Where did they go?" asked Robert.
"I've promised not to tell," said the old man doggedly.
"Father," exclaimed young Tournay, "do you not see how important it is
that I should know where they have gone? If you have any affection for
mademoiselle you will tell me. Cannot you trust your own son?"
"Will you promise not to prevent their going?" replied the old man.
Tournay thought for a moment. "Yes."
"To La Haye, in the province of Touraine, near the boundary of La
Vendee."
"Will they reach there in safety?" inquired Tournay, half to himself.
"You need have no alarm on that score. They have disguised themselves as
peasants; no one will be able to recognize them. Look!" he added
suddenly, pointing in the direction of the chateau.
A tongue of flame shot into the night air, then another and another
followed in quick succession.
"Is the chateau on fire?" cried Robert in consternation.
As if in answer the flames burst fiercely forth, and the noble old pile
stood revealed to them by the light of the fire that consumed it.
The surrounding landscape became brilliant as day, and the great oaks of
the park waved their bare branches frantically in the direction of the
edifice they had sheltered so many years; seeming to sigh pityingly as
one turret after another fell crashing to the ground.
Young Tournay looked around to see if any of the attacking party were
still lurking in the vicinity; but with the exception of himself and his
father, no human eye was witness of the burning.
"Gardin's men must have ignited that during their drunken invasion of
the wine-cellar," he exclaimed excitedly. Then in the next breath he
added, "Thank God! Mademoiselle has been spared this sight."
Old Tournay stood looking at the conflagration in silence; then turning
away with a sigh, he said simply, "There goes the only home I have ever
known; where my father lived before me and where you were born, Robert.
I must now find a new place to pass what few days of life remain to me."
Tournay laid his hand on his father's arm. "Will you come with me to
Paris?" he asked.
"No, no," replied his father. "I am not in sympathy with Paris, Robert,
nor with your ways. I don't understand them, boy. It may be all right
for you. I know you are a good son, you have always been that, but I
shall find a shelter in La Thierry. None will molest an old man like
me."
Leading his horse by the bridle, Tournay walked back to the village with
his father. On the way they were met by Gaillard, who had seen the
flames and had guessed their meaning.
Robert Tournay explained the situation to him as they all went back to
the inn. Greatly in need of rest, Robert threw himself down to wait
until the morrow.
They were up with the dawn, when Gaillard had a new suggestion to offer.
"You must return at once to Paris, my friend, for you must arrive there
before Gardin. You will need all the influence of your own military
position and the aid of your most powerful friends to enable you to meet
the charges that man will bring against you for frustrating the arrest.
I will try to find mademoiselle at La Haye, and will meet you at our
lodgings as soon as possible."
Robert grasped his companion's hand warmly.
"I shall never forget your friendship, Gaillard."
"You may remember it as long as you like if you will not refer to it. I
can never repay you for your many acts of friendship toward me."
"But your profession," interrupted Tournay, "how can you leave the
theatre all this time? How will your place be filled?"
"Oh, it will be filled very well. I arranged all that before leaving;
whether I shall find it vacant or not when I return is another matter.
But it does not trouble me; let it not trouble you, my friend." And with
a cheerful wave of the hand, Gaillard departed.