The Chouans [40]
or to watch you? Are you still suspected by the Republic?"
Mademoiselle felt instinctively that Madame du Gua had no real interest in her, and the question alarmed her.
"Madame," she replied, "I really do not know myself the exact nature of my relations to the Republic."
"Perhaps it fears you?" said the young man, rather satirically.
"We must respect her secrets," interposed Madame du Gua.
"Oh, madame, the secrets of a young girl who knows nothing of life but its misfortunes are not interesting."
"But," answered Madame du Gua, wishing to continue a conversation which might reveal to her all that she wanted to know, "the First Consul seems to have excellent intentions. They say that he is going to remove the disabilities of the /emigres/."
"That is true, madame," she replied, with rather too much eagerness, "and if so, why do we rouse Brittany and La Vendee? Why bring civil war into France?"
This eager cry, in which she seemed to share her own reproach, made the young sailor quiver. He looked earnestly at her, but was unable to detect either hatred or love upon her face. Her beautiful skin, the delicacy of which was shown by the color beneath it, was impenetrable. A sudden and invincible curiosity attracted him to this strange creature, to whom he was already drawn by violent desires.
"Madame," said Mademoiselle de Verneuil, after a pause, "may I ask if you are going to Mayenne?"
"Yes, mademoiselle," replied the young man with a questioning look.
"Then, madame," she continued, "as your son serves the Republic" (she said the words with an apparently indifferent air, but she gave her companions one of those furtive glances the art of which belongs to women and diplomatists), "you must fear the Chouans, and an escort is not to be despised. We are now almost travelling companions, and I hope you will come with me to Mayenne."
Mother and son hesitated, and seemed to consult each other's faces.
"I am not sure, mademoiselle," said the young man, "that it is prudent in me to tell you that interests of the highest importance require our presence to-night in the neighborhood of Fougeres, and we have not yet been able to find a means of conveyance; but women are so naturally generous that I am ashamed not to confide in you. Nevertheless," he added, "before putting ourselves in your hands, I ought to know whether we shall get out of them safe and sound. In short, mademoiselle, are you the sovereign or the slave of your Republican escort? Pardon my frankness, but your position does not seem to me exactly natural--"
"We live in times, monsieur, when nothing takes place naturally. You can accept my proposal without anxiety. Above all," she added, emphasizing her words, "you need fear no treachery in an offer made by a woman who has no part in political hatreds."
"A journey thus made is not without danger," he said, with a look which gave significance to that commonplace remark.
"What is it you fear?" she answered, smiling sarcastically. "I see no peril for any one."
"Is this the woman who a moment ago shared my desires in her eyes?" thought the young man. "What a tone in her voice! she is laying a trap for me."
At that instant a shrill cry of an owl which appeared to have perched on the chimney top vibrated in the air like a warning.
"What does that mean?" said Mademoiselle de Verneuil. "Our journey together will not begin under favorable auspices. Do owls in these woods screech by daylight?" she added, with a surprised gesture.
"Sometimes," said the young man, coolly. "Mademoiselle," he continued, "we may bring you ill-luck; you are thinking of that, I am sure. We had better not travel together."
These words were said with a calmness and reserve which puzzled Mademoiselle de Verneuil.
"Monsieur," she replied, with truly aristocratic insolence, "I am far from wishing to compel you. Pray let us keep the little liberty the Republic leaves us. If Madame were alone, I should insist--"
The heavy step of a soldier was heard in the passage, and the Commandant Hulot presently
Mademoiselle felt instinctively that Madame du Gua had no real interest in her, and the question alarmed her.
"Madame," she replied, "I really do not know myself the exact nature of my relations to the Republic."
"Perhaps it fears you?" said the young man, rather satirically.
"We must respect her secrets," interposed Madame du Gua.
"Oh, madame, the secrets of a young girl who knows nothing of life but its misfortunes are not interesting."
"But," answered Madame du Gua, wishing to continue a conversation which might reveal to her all that she wanted to know, "the First Consul seems to have excellent intentions. They say that he is going to remove the disabilities of the /emigres/."
"That is true, madame," she replied, with rather too much eagerness, "and if so, why do we rouse Brittany and La Vendee? Why bring civil war into France?"
This eager cry, in which she seemed to share her own reproach, made the young sailor quiver. He looked earnestly at her, but was unable to detect either hatred or love upon her face. Her beautiful skin, the delicacy of which was shown by the color beneath it, was impenetrable. A sudden and invincible curiosity attracted him to this strange creature, to whom he was already drawn by violent desires.
"Madame," said Mademoiselle de Verneuil, after a pause, "may I ask if you are going to Mayenne?"
"Yes, mademoiselle," replied the young man with a questioning look.
"Then, madame," she continued, "as your son serves the Republic" (she said the words with an apparently indifferent air, but she gave her companions one of those furtive glances the art of which belongs to women and diplomatists), "you must fear the Chouans, and an escort is not to be despised. We are now almost travelling companions, and I hope you will come with me to Mayenne."
Mother and son hesitated, and seemed to consult each other's faces.
"I am not sure, mademoiselle," said the young man, "that it is prudent in me to tell you that interests of the highest importance require our presence to-night in the neighborhood of Fougeres, and we have not yet been able to find a means of conveyance; but women are so naturally generous that I am ashamed not to confide in you. Nevertheless," he added, "before putting ourselves in your hands, I ought to know whether we shall get out of them safe and sound. In short, mademoiselle, are you the sovereign or the slave of your Republican escort? Pardon my frankness, but your position does not seem to me exactly natural--"
"We live in times, monsieur, when nothing takes place naturally. You can accept my proposal without anxiety. Above all," she added, emphasizing her words, "you need fear no treachery in an offer made by a woman who has no part in political hatreds."
"A journey thus made is not without danger," he said, with a look which gave significance to that commonplace remark.
"What is it you fear?" she answered, smiling sarcastically. "I see no peril for any one."
"Is this the woman who a moment ago shared my desires in her eyes?" thought the young man. "What a tone in her voice! she is laying a trap for me."
At that instant a shrill cry of an owl which appeared to have perched on the chimney top vibrated in the air like a warning.
"What does that mean?" said Mademoiselle de Verneuil. "Our journey together will not begin under favorable auspices. Do owls in these woods screech by daylight?" she added, with a surprised gesture.
"Sometimes," said the young man, coolly. "Mademoiselle," he continued, "we may bring you ill-luck; you are thinking of that, I am sure. We had better not travel together."
These words were said with a calmness and reserve which puzzled Mademoiselle de Verneuil.
"Monsieur," she replied, with truly aristocratic insolence, "I am far from wishing to compel you. Pray let us keep the little liberty the Republic leaves us. If Madame were alone, I should insist--"
The heavy step of a soldier was heard in the passage, and the Commandant Hulot presently