"One word?" she answered, closing her lips tightly, "not a single word; not even a gesture.""At least, be angry with me," he entreated, trying to take the hand she withheld from him,--"that is, if you dare to be angry with the leader of the rebels, who is now as sad and distrustful as he was lately happy and confiding."Marie gave him a look that was far from angry, and he added: "You have my secret, but I have not yours."The alabaster brow appeared to darken at these words; she cast a look of annoyance on the young chieftain, and answered, hastily: "Tell you my secret? Never!"In love every word, every glance has the eloquence of the moment; but on this occasion Mademoiselle de Verneuil's exclamation revealed nothing, and, clever as Montauran might be, its secret was impenetrable to him, though the tones of her voice betrayed some extraordinary and unusual emotion which piqued his curiosity.
"You have a singular way of dispelling suspicion," he said.
"Do you still suspect me?" she replied, looking him in the eye, as if to say, "What rights have you over me?""Mademoiselle," said the young man, in a voice that was submissive and yet firm, "the authority you exercise over Republican troops, this escort--""Ah, that reminds me! My escort and I," she asked, in a slightly satirical tone, "your protectors, in short,--will they be safe here?""Yes, on the word of a gentleman.Whoever you be, you and your party have nothing to fear in my house."The promise was made with so loyal and generous an air and manner that Mademoiselle de Verneuil felt absolutely secure as to the safety of the Republican soldiers.She was about to speak when Madame du Gua's approach silenced her.That lady had either overheard or guessed part of their conversation, and was filled with anxiety at no longer perceiving any signs of animosity between them.As soon as the marquis caught sight of her, he offered his hand to Mademoiselle de Verneuil and led her hastily towards the house, as if to escape an undesired companion.
"I am in their way," thought Madame du Gua, remaining where she was.
She watched the lovers walking slowly towards the portico, where they stopped, as if satisfied to have placed some distance between themselves and her."Yes, yes, I am in their way," she repeated, speaking to herself; "but before long that creature will not be in mine; the lake, God willing, shall have her.I'll help him keep his word as a gentleman; once under the water, she has nothing to fear,--what can be safer than that?"
She was looking fixedly at the still mirror of the little lake to the right when suddenly she heard a rustling among the rushes and saw in the moonlight the face of Marche-a-Terre rising behind the gnarled trunk of an old willow.None but those who knew the Chouan well could have distinguished him from the tangle of branches of which he seemed a part.Madame du Gua looked about her with some distrust; she saw the postilion leading his horses to a stable in the wing of the chateau which was opposite to the bank where Marche-a-Terre was hiding;Francine, with her back to her, was going towards the two lovers, who at that moment had forgotten the whole earth.Madame du Gua, with a finger on her lip to demand silence, walked towards the Chouan, who guessed rather than heard her question, "How many of you are here?""Eighty-seven."
"They are sixty-five; I counted them."
"Good," said the savage, with sullen satisfaction.
Attentive to all Francine's movements, the Chouan disappeared behind the willow, as he saw her turn to look for the enemy over whom she was keeping an instinctive watch.
Six or eight persons, attracted by the noise of the carriage-wheels, came out on the portico, shouting: "It is the Gars! it is he; here he is!" On this several other men ran out, and their coming interrupted the lovers.The Marquis de Montauran went hastily up to them, making an imperative gesture for silence, and pointing to the farther end of the causeway, where the Republican escort was just appearing.At the sight of the well-known blue uniforms with red facings, and the glittering bayonets, the amazed conspirators called out hastily, "You have surely not betrayed us?""If I had, I should not warn you," said the marquis, smiling bitterly.
"Those Blues," he added, after a pause, "are the escort of this young lady, whose generosity has delivered us, almost miraculously, from a danger we were in at Alencon.I will tell you about it later.
Mademoiselle and her escort are here in safety, on my word as a gentleman, and we must all receive them as friends."Madame du Gua and Francine were now on the portico; the marquis offered his hand to Mademoiselle de Verneuil, the group of gentlemen parted in two lines to allow them to pass, endeavoring, as they did so, to catch sight of the young lady's features; for Madame du Gua, who was following behind, excited their curiosity by secret signs.
Mademoiselle de Verneuil saw, with surprise, that a large table was set in the first hall, for about twenty guests.The dining-room opened into a vast salon, where the whole party were presently assembled.
These rooms were in keeping with the dilapidated appearance of the outside of the house.The walnut panels, polished by age, but rough and coarse in design and badly executed, were loose in their places and ready to fall.Their dingy color added to the gloom of these apartments, which were barren of curtains and mirrors; a few venerable bits of furniture in the last stages of decay alone remained, and harmonized with the general destruction.Marie noticed maps and plans stretched out upon long tables, and in the corners of the room a quantity of weapons and stacked carbines.These things bore witness, though she did not know it, to an important conference between the leaders of the Vendeans and those of the Chouans.
