The Classic Mystery Collection - Arthur Conan Doyle [118]
"Who is he?" asked the Marquis de Simeuse.
"Murat, Napoleon's brother-in-law," replied old d'Hauteserre.
"Delightful!" remarked Mademoiselle de Cinq-Cygne. "Do they also say 'your Majesty' to the widow of Beauharnais?"
"Yes, mademoiselle," said the abbe.
"We ought to go to Paris and see it all," cried Laurence.
"Alas, mademoiselle," said Michu, "I was there to put Francois at school, and I swear to you there's no joking with what they call the Imperial Guard. If the rest of the army are like them, the thing may last longer than we."
"They say many of the noble families are taking service," said Monsieur d'Hauteserre.
"According to the present law," added the abbe, "you will be compelled to serve. The conscription makes no distinction of ranks or names."
"That man is doing us more harm with his court than the Revolution did with its axe!" cried Laurence.
"The Church prays for him," said the abbe.
These remarks, made rapidly one after another, were so many commentaries on the wise counsel of the old Marquis de Chargeboeuf; but the young people had too much faith, too much honor, to dream of resorting to a compromise. They told themselves, as all vanquished parties in all times have declared, that the luck of the conquerors would soon be at an end, that the Emperor had no support but that of the army, that the power _de facto_ must sooner or later give way to the Divine Right, etc. So, in spite of the wise counsel given to them, they fell into the pitfall, which others, like old d'Hauteserre, more prudent and more amenable to reason, would have been able to avoid. If men were frank they might perhaps admit that misfortunes never overtake them until after they have received either an actual or an occult warning. Many do not perceive the deep meaning of such visible or invisible signs until after the disaster is upon them.
"In any case, Madame la comtesse knows that I cannot leave the country until I have given up a certain trust," said Michu in a low voice to Mademoiselle de Cinq-Cygne.
For all answer she made him a sign of acquiescence, and he left the room.
CHAPTER XII
THE FACTS OF A MYSTERIOUS AFFAIR
Michu sold his farm at once to Beauvisage, a farmer at Bellache, but he was not to receive the money for twenty days. A month after the Marquis de Chargeboeuf's visit, Laurence, who had told her cousins of their buried fortune, proposed to them to take the day of the Mi-careme to disinter it. The unusual quantity of snow which fell that winter had hitherto prevented Michu from obtaining the treasure, and it now gave him pleasure to undertake the operation with his masters. He was determined to leave the neighborhood as soon as it was over, for he feared himself.
"Malin has suddenly arrived at Gondreville, and no one knows why," he said to his mistress. "I shall never be able to resist putting the property into the market by the death of its owner. I feel I am guilty in not following my inspirations."
"Why should he leave Paris at this season?" said the countess.
"All Arcis is talking about it," replied Michu; "he has left his family in Paris, and no one is with him but his valet. Monsieur Grevin, the notary of Arcis, Madame Marion, the wife of the receiver-general, and her sister-in-law are staying at Gondreville."
Laurence had chosen the mid-lent day for their purpose because it enabled her to give her servants a holiday and so get them out of the way. The usual masquerade drew the peasantry to the town and no one was at work in the fields. Chance made its calculations with as much cleverness as Mademoiselle de Cinq-Cygne made hers. The uneasiness of Monsieur and Madame d'Hauteserre at the idea of keeping eleven hundred thousand francs in gold in a lonely chateau on the borders of a forest was likely to be so great that their sons advised they should know nothing about it. The secret of the expedition was therefore confined to Gothard, Michu, Laurence, and the four gentlemen.
After much consultation it seemed possible to put forty-eight thousand francs in a long sack on the crupper