"Which sum," continued the false exempt, "Master Rabodin will recoup in his fees in the suit between Captain Cauvignac and Monsieur le Duc de La Rochefoucauld."
Master Rabodin hung his head; he was fairly caught. He must go through the door that was pointed out to him, or else through the door of a prison.
"Very good," said he. "I consent; but I hope you will give me a receipt for all this."
"Look at this," said Barrabas, "and see if I haven't anticipated your desire;" and he handed him a paper on which these words were written: —
"Received from Master Rabodin, his Majesty's faithful subject,
the sum of five hundred livres, as a voluntary offering, to assist him in his war against the princes."
"If you insist," said Barrabas, "I will put the two clerks in the receipt."
"No, no," said the attorney, hastily; "it's quite right as it is."
"By the way," said Cauvignac, "tell Fricotin to bring his drum, and Chalumeau his halberd; it will be so much less to buy."
"But on what pretext shall I tell them to do that?"
"Pardieu! as a means of amusing themselves on the road."
With that the pretended exempt and pretended collector took their departure, leaving Master Rabodin bewildered at the thought of the danger he had escaped, and only too happy to have come so well out of it.
VI
The next morning everything passed off as Cauvignac had planned. The nephew and godson were the first to arrive, both mounted on the same horse; then came Fricotin and Chalumeau, one with his drum, the other with his halberd. There was some little opposition to be overcome when it was explained to them that they had the honor of being enrolled in the service of the princes; but all opposition vanished before the threats of Cauvignac, the promises of Ferguzon, and the logic of Barrabas.
The horse of the nephew and godson was assigned to the duty of carrying the baggage, and as Cauvignac's commission authorized him to raise a company of infantry, the two raw recruits could say nothing.
They set out at once. Cauvignac's march resembled a triumph. The ingenious freebooter had found a way to bring into the war the most persistent advocates of peace. Some he induced to embrace the cause of the king, others the cause of the princes. Some believed they were enlisting in the service of the Parliament, others in that of the King of England, who was talking of a descent upon Scotland to attempt the conquest of his dominions. There was naturally, at first, some little lack of uniformity in the colors, some discord in the sentiments of the troops, whom Lieutenant Ferguzon, despite his persuasive powers, found it difficult to reduce to the level of passive obedience. However, by resorting constantly to secrecy and mystery, which were necessary, so Cauvignac said, to the success of the operation, they were induced to go forward, soldiers and officers alike, without knowing where they were going, or what they were to do.
Four days after leaving Chantilly Cauvignac had collected twenty-five men; a very pretty little nucleus of an army. Many rivers which make a great noise when they flow into the sea, have a less imposing origin.
Cauvignac was in search of a convenient centre of operations. He reached a little village between Châtellerault and Poitiers, which seemed to suit his purposes. It was the village of Jaulnay. Cauvignac recognized it as the place where he had delivered an order to Canolles on a certain evening, and he established his headquarters there at the inn, where he remembered that he had supped very comfortably on the evening in question. As to that, he had no choice, for, as we have said before, it was the only inn in the place.
Thus established, on the principal highway from Paris to Bordeaux, Cauvignac had behind him the troops of Monsieur de La Rochefoucauld, who was besieging Saumur, and before him those of the king, who were concentrated in Guyenne. Holding out a hand to either, and abstaining from hoisting any colors whatsoever until the proper time, he set about collecting a hundred men, with whom at his back he might make the most of his opportunities. Recruiting went merrily forward, and in a very short time his task was well-nigh half done.
One day, having passed the whole morning in hunting men, he was standing, as usual, on the watch, at the door of the inn, talking with his lieutenant and sub-lieutenant, when he spied a young lady on horseback at the end of the village street, followed by a squire, also on horseback, and two mules laden with trunks.
The ease with which the fair Amazon handled her steed, and the stiff, haughty bearing of the squire, awakened a slumbering memory in Cauvignac's mind. He laid his hand upon Ferguzon's arm, – his lieutenant was indisposed that day, and his manner was somewhat dejected, – and said, pointing to the traveller: —
"There's the fiftieth soldier of the Cauvignac regiment, or I'm damned!"
"Who? that young lady?"
"Precisely."
"Nonsense! we already have a nephew who was to be an advocate, a godson who was to be a priest, two attorney's clerks, two druggists, a doctor, three bakers, two country bumpkins; that's enough of that kind of soldiers, God knows! without adding a woman to them; for some day or other we shall have to fight."
"Very true; but our cash only amounts to twenty-five thousand livres" (it appears that the cash as well as the troop had taken pattern by the snowball), "and if we could reach a good round figure, thirty thousand livres, say, it seems to me that it wouldn't be a bad scheme."
"Ah! if you look at it from that point of view, I am with you, and haven't a word to say."
"Hush! you will see."
Cauvignac approached the young woman, who, having drawn rein in front of one of the windows of the inn, was questioning the hostess, who assured her that she could be accommodated with a room.
"Your servant, young gentleman," he said, with a cunning expression, putting his hand to his hat in a free and easy way.
"Young gentleman, did you say?" said the lady, with a smile.
"Yes, viscount."
The lady blushed.
"I am at a loss to know what you mean, monsieur," she said.
"Oh! yes, you do, and the half-inch of blush on your cheeks proves it."
"You certainly are mistaken, monsieur."
"Nay, nay! on the contrary, I am perfectly sure of what I say."
"A truce to your jesting, monsieur."
"I am not jesting, monsieur, and if you wish for proofs, you shall have them. I had the honor to meet you, it will soon be three weeks ago, dressed according to your sex, on the banks of the Dordogne, on which occasion you were attended by your faithful squire, Monsieur Pompée. Is Monsieur Pompée still in your service? – Why, yes, there he is now, dear Monsieur Pompée! Will you tell me that I don't know him either?"
The squire and the young woman looked at each other in speechless amazement.
"Oh! yes, that astonishes you, my gallant viscount," Cauvignac continued; "but dare to say that it was not you whom I met on the road to Saint-Martin de Cubzac, a fourth of a league from the hostelry of Master Biscarros."
"I do not deny the meeting, monsieur."
"What did I say?"
"But that was the time when I was disguised."
"Nay, nay, you are disguised now. I quite understand that, as the description of the Vicomte de Cambes has been given out all through Guyenne, you deemed it more prudent, in order to avoid suspicion, to adopt, for the moment, this costume, which, to do you justice, my fair sir, is extremely becoming to you."
"Monsieur," said the viscountess, with an anxiety which she tried in vain to conceal, "except that your conversation contains a word or two of sense now and then, I should think you mad."
"I will not pay you the same compliment, for it seems to me a most judicious thing to disguise one's self when one is conspiring."
The young woman gazed at Cauvignac with increasing uneasiness.
"Indeed, monsieur," she said, "it seems to me that I have seen you somewhere; but I cannot remember where."
"The first time, as I have told you, was on the banks of the Dordogne."
"And the second?"
"The second was at Chantilly."
"On the day of the hunt?"
"Even so."
"In that case, monsieur, I have nothing to fear, for you are one of us."
"Why so?"
"Because you were at Chantilly."
"Permit me to observe that that is no reason."
"It seems to me to be."
"There were too many there to be sure that they were all friends."
"Beware, monsieur, or you will force me to form a strange opinion of you."
"Oh! form whatever opinion you choose; I am not sensitive."
"But, when all is said, what do you desire?"
"To do the honors of the inn, if you have no objection."
"I am deeply grateful to you, monsieur, but I do not require your services. I am expecting a friend."
"Very good; dismount, and while you are waiting, we will talk."
"What am I to do, madame?" interposed Pompée.
"Dismount, engage a room, and order supper," said Cauvignac.
"Monsieur," rejoined the viscountess, "if I mistake not, it is for me to give orders to my servant."
"That depends upon circumstances, viscount. I command at Jaulnay, and have fifty men at my beck and call. Pompée; do as I bid you."
Pompée lowered his crest and entered the inn.
"Do you presume to arrest me, monsieur?" demanded the young woman.
"Perhaps."
"What do you mean by perhaps?"
"It will depend upon the conversation we are about to have. Pray take the trouble to dismount, viscount; so! that's right. Now accept my arm; the inn people will take your horse to the stable."
"I obey, monsieur; for, as you say, you are the stronger. I have no means of resisting, but I tell you now that the person I am expecting will soon be here, and that he is an officer of the king."
"Very well, viscount; you will do me the honor to present me to him, and I shall be charmed to make his acquaintance."
The viscountess realized that resistance was useless at present, and she led the way into the inn, making a sign to her strange interlocutor that he was at liberty to follow her if he chose.
Cauvignac escorted her to the door of the room bespoken by Pompée, and was about to follow her in, when Ferguzon ran quickly up the stairs and whispered to him: —
"Captain, a carriage with three horses, a young man, masked, inside, and two servants at the doors."
"Good!" said Cauvignac; "it is probably the gentleman expected."
"Ah! do we expect a gentleman?"
"Yes, and I will go down to meet him. Do you remain in this corridor; don't lose sight of the door; let everybody in, but see that nobody goes out."
"Very well, captain."
A travelling-carriage had stopped at the door of the inn, escorted by four men of Cauvignac's company, who joined it a quarter of a league outside the town, and had not since parted company with it.
A young gentleman, dressed in blue velvet, and wrapped in a great furred cloak, was lying rather than sitting inside the carriage. From the time that the four men surrounded his vehicle he had plied them with questions; but, finding that he could obtain no answer, despite his persistence, he seemed to have resigned himself to wait, and simply raised his head from time to time to see if somebody had not come up from whom he could demand an explanation of the strange conduct of these people in his regard.
It was impossible, however, to make a just estimate of the impression produced upon the young traveller by this episode, as one of the black satin masks, called loups, which were very much in vogue at that time, hid half of his face. Those portions which could be seen, however, – that is to say, the upper part of his forehead, and his mouth and chin, – denoted youth, beauty, and intelligence. His teeth were small and white, and a pair of bright eyes shone through the holes in the mask.
Two tall footmen, pale and trembling, although each held a blunderbuss across his knee, sat as if glued to their saddles at either door of the carriage. The whole scene would have made an excellent picture of brigands stopping travellers on the highway, except for the bright daylight, the inn, the smiling features of Cauvignac, and the imperturbability of the pretended thieves.
At sight of Cauvignac, who, as we have said, when notified by Ferguzon, made his appearance at the door, the young man uttered a little shriek of surprise, and hastily put his hand to his face, as if to make sure that his mask was in place; finding that it was, he recovered his tranquillity.
Swift as the movement was, it did not escape Cauvignac. He gazed at the traveller with the eye of a man skilful in tracing resemblances even upon the most disguised features, and the next moment started, in spite of himself, apparently as much surprised as the young gentleman in blue. He recovered himself, however, and said, removing his hat with a grace that was peculiar to him: —
"Welcome, fair lady."
The traveller's eyes shone with surprise through the holes in his mask.
"Where are you going in this guise, pray?" continued Cauvignac.
"Where am I going?" replied the traveller, taking no notice of Cauvignac's salutation, – "where am I going? You ought to know better than I, as it seems that I am not at liberty to continue my journey. I am going where you take me."
"Permit me to remark," continued Cauvignac, with a greater show of politeness than ever, "that that does not answer my question, fair lady! Your arrest is only momentary. When we have talked together a few moments upon certain matters in which we are mutually interested, with our hearts and our faces laid bare, you may resume your journey unmolested."
"Pardon me," rejoined the traveller, "but before going any farther, let us rectify an error. You pretend to take me for a woman, although you can see from my dress that I am a man."
"You know the Latin proverb: Ne nimium crede colori, – the wise man doesn't judge by appearances. Now I make some pretensions to wisdom, and the consequence is that, under this deceitful costume, I have recognized – "
"What?" demanded the traveller, impatiently.
"Why, I have already told you, – a woman!"
"Well, if I am a woman, why do you stop me?"
"Peste! Because, in times like these, women are more dangerous than men; indeed, the war in which we are engaged might, properly speaking, be called the war of women. The queen and Madame de Condé are the two belligerent powers. They have taken for lieutenant-generals Mademoiselle de Chevreuse, Madame de Montbazon, Madame de Longueville – and yourself. Mademoiselle de Chevreuse is Monsieur le Coadjuteur's general, Madame de Montbazon is Monsieur de Beaufort's, Madame de Longueville Monsieur de La Rochefoucauld's, and you – you have every appearance of being Monsieur le Duc d'Épernon's."
"You are mad, monsieur," said the young traveller, shrugging his shoulders.
"I should not be inclined to believe you, fair lady, were it not for the fact that a handsome youth paid me the same compliment a moment since."
"Perhaps he was a woman whom you persisted in calling a man."
"Even so. I recognized my fine gentleman from having seen him on a certain evening early in May, prowling around Master Biscarros' inn, and I was not to be taken in by his petticoats and his wigs and his little soft voice, any more than I am taken in by your gray felt, and your fancy boots; and I said to him: 'My young friend, take what name you choose, wear what costume you choose, assume what voice you choose, you will be the Vicomte de Cambes none the less. '"
"The Vicomte de Cambes!" cried the traveller.
"Ah! the name seems to make an impression upon you. Do you happen to know him?"
"A very young man, almost a child?"
"Seventeen or eighteen years old, at most."
"Very fair?"
"Very fair."
"Large blue eyes?"
"Very large, very blue."
"Is he here?"
"He is here."
"And you say that he is – "
"Disguised as a woman, the rascal, – as you are as a man, slyboots."
"Why is he here, pray?" cried the young man, vehemently, and with evident distress, which increased perceptibly as Cauvignac assumed a more serious tone, and became more sparing of his words.
"Why," he replied, enunciating every syllable with great distinctness, "he claims to have an appointment with one of his friends."
"One of his friends?"
"Yes."
"A gentleman?"
"Probably."
"A baron?"
"Perhaps."
"And his name is – "
Cauvignac's brow contracted beneath a weighty thought which then first presented itself to his mind, and caused a perceptible commotion in his brain.
"Oho!" he muttered, "that would be a pretty kettle offish."
"And his name?" the traveller repeated.
"Wait a moment," said Cauvignac; "wait a moment – his name ends in olles."
"Monsieur de Canolles!" cried the traveller, whose lips became deathly pale, making a ghastly contrast with the black silk mask.
"That's the name! Monsieur de Canolles," said Cauvignac, following, upon the visible portions of the young man's face and in the convulsive movement of his whole body, the revolution which was taking place in his mind. "Do you know Monsieur de Canolles, too? In God's name, do you know everybody?"
"A truce to jesting," faltered the young man, who was trembling all over, and seemed on the point of fainting.
"Where is this lady?"
"In that room yonder; look, the third window from this, – where the yellow curtains are."
"I want to see her!" cried the traveller.
"Oho! have I made a mistake, and can it be that you are this Monsieur de Canolles whom she expects? Or, rather, isn't this Monsieur de Canolles, this gallant cavalier just trotting up, followed by a lackey who looks to me like a consummate idiot?"
The young traveller jumped forward so precipitately to look through the glass in the front of the carriage that he broke it with his head.
"'T is he! 'tis he!" he cried, utterly regardless of the fact that the blood was flowing from a slight wound. "Oh! the villain! he is here to meet her; I am undone!"
"Ah! didn't I say that you were a woman?"
"They meet here by appointment," the young man continued, wringing his hands. "Oh! I will have my revenge!"
Cauvignac would have indulged in some further pleasantry; but the young man made an imperious gesture with one hand, while with the other he tore off his mask, and the pale, threatening face of Nanon was revealed to Cauvignac's impassive gaze.
VII
"Good-day to you, little sister," said Cauvignac, offering the young woman his hand with imperturbable phlegm.
"Good-day! So you recognized me, did you?"
"The instant I laid my eyes on you. It wasn't enough to hide your face; you should have covered up that charming dimple, and your pearly teeth. When you wish to disguise yourself, coquette, cover your whole face! but you were not careful —et fugit ad salices– "
"Enough!" said Nanon, imperiously; "let us talk seriously."
"I ask nothing better; only by talking seriously can business be properly transacted."
"You say that the Vicomtesse de Cambes is here?"
"In person."
"And that Monsieur de Canolles is entering the inn at this moment?"
"Not yet; he dismounts and throws his rein to his servant. Ah! he has been seen yonder also. See, the window with the yellow curtains opens, and the viscountess puts out her head. Ah! she gives a little shriek of delight. Monsieur de Canolles darts into the house; get out of sight, little sister, or all will be lost."
Nanon threw herself back, convulsively pressing Cauvignac's hand, as he gazed at her with an air of paternal compassion.
"And I was going to Paris to join him!" cried Nanon. "I risked everything for the sake of seeing him again!"
"Ah! such a sacrifice, little sister, and for an ingrate, into the bargain! Upon my word, you might bestow your favors to better purpose."
"What will they say to each other, now they are together? What will they do?"
'Faith, dear Nanon, you embarrass me sorely by putting such a question to me; they will —pardieu! they will love each other dearly, I suppose."
"Oh! that shall not be!" cried Nanon, frantically gnawing at her nails, which shone like polished ivory.
"On the contrary, I fancy that it will be," rejoined Cauvignac. "Ferguzon has orders to let no one come out, but not to keep anybody out. At this moment, in all probability, the viscountess and Baron de Canolles are exchanging all sorts of endearing terms, each more charming than the last. Peste! dear Nanon, you are too late."
"Do you think so?" retorted the young woman with an indefinable expression of irony and malignant cunning; "do you think so? Very good; just come in and sit beside me, you wretched diplomatist."
Cauvignac obeyed.
"Bertrand," said Nanon to one of her retainers, "tell the coachman to turn quietly about, and draw up under the clump of trees we left at the right as we entered the village. – Won't that be a safe place to talk?" she asked Cauvignac.
"There could be no better. But permit me to take a few precautions on my own account."
"Go on."
Cauvignac made signs to four of his men, who were strutting about the inn, buzzing and puffing like hornets in the sun, to follow him.
"You do well to take those men," said Nanon, "and if you follow my advice you will take six rather than four; there may be work cut out for them."
"Good!" said Cauvignac; "work of that kind is what I want."
"Then you will be content," said Nanon.
The coachman turned the carriage, and drove away, with Nanon, red with the flame of her thoughts, and Cauvignac, apparently calm and cold, but ready, nevertheless, to lend an attentive ear to his sister's suggestions.
Meanwhile, Canolles, attracted by the joyous cry uttered by Madame de Cambes when she caught sight of him, had darted into the inn, and to the viscountess's room, without noticing Ferguzon, whom he passed in the corridor, but who made no objection to his entering, as he had received no instructions concerning him.
"Ah! monsieur," cried Madame de Cambes, "come in quickly; I have been so impatient for you to come!"
"Those words would make me the happiest man in the world, madame, if your pallor and your evident distress did not tell me as plainly as words could do that you were not expecting me for myself alone."
"Yes, monsieur, you are right," said Claire with her charming smile, "and I desire to lay myself under still greater obligation to you."
"How so?"
"By begging you to save me from some peril, I know not what, which threatens me."
"Peril?"
"Yes. Wait."
She went to the door, and threw the bolt.
"I have been recognized," she said, returning to Canolles.
"By whom?"
"By a man whose name I do not know, but whose face and voice are familiar to me. It seems as if I heard his voice the evening that you, in this very room, received the order to repair at once to Mantes. It seems also as if I had seen his face at the hunting party at Chantilly, the day that I took Madame de Condé's place."
"Whom do you take the man to be?"
"An agent of Monsieur le Duc d'Épernon, and therefore an enemy."
"The devil!" exclaimed Canolles. "You say that he recognized you?"
"Yes; he called me by name, although he insisted that I was a man. There are officers of the king's party all over the country hereabout; I am known to belong to the party of the princes, and it may be that they proposed to make trouble for me. But you are here, and I no longer have any fear. You are an officer yourself, and belong to the same party that they do, so you will be my safeguard."
"Alas!" said Canolles, "I greatly fear that I can offer you no other defence or protection than that of my sword."
"How is that?"
"Because from this moment I cease to belong to the king's party."
"Do you mean what you say?" cried Claire, delighted beyond measure.
"I promised myself that I would forward my resignation from the place where I next met you. I have met you, and my resignation will be forwarded from Jaulnay."
"Oh! free! free! you are free! you can embrace the cause of justice and loyalty; you can join the party of the princes, that is to say, of all the nobility. Oh! I knew that you were too noble-hearted not to come to it at last."
Canolles kissed with transport the hand Claire offered him.
"How did it come about?" she continued. "Tell me every detail."
"Oh! it's not a long story. I wrote Monsieur de Mazarin to inform him of what had taken place. When I arrived at Mantes, I was ordered to wait upon him; he called me a poor fool, I called him a poor fool; he laughed, I lost my temper; he raised his voice, I bade him go to the devil. I returned to my hôtel; I was waiting until he thought fit to consign me to the Bastille; he was waiting until prudence should bid me begone from Mantes. After twenty-four hours prudence bade me take that course. And even that I owe to you, for I thought of what you promised me, and that you might be waiting for me. So it was that I threw away all responsibility, all thought of party, and with my hands free, and almost without preference, I remembered one thing only, that I loved you, madame, and that at last I might tell you so, aloud and boldly."
"So you have thrown away your rank for me, you are disgraced, ruined, all for my sake! Dear Monsieur de Canolles, how can I ever pay my debt? How can I prove my gratitude to you?"
With a smile and a tear which gave him back a hundred times more than he had lost, Madame de Cambes brought Canolles to her feet.
"Ah! madame," said he, "from this moment I am rich and happy; for I am to be always with you, I am never to leave you more, I shall be happy in the privilege of seeing you, and rich in your love."
"There is no further obstacle, then?"
"No."
"You belong to me absolutely, and, while keeping your heart, I may offer your arm to Madame la Princesse?"
"You may."
"You have sent your resignation, do you say?"
"Not yet; I wished to see you first; but, as I told you, now that I have seen you again, I propose to write it here, instantly. I preferred to wait until I could do it in obedience to your orders."
"Write, then, before anything else! If you do not write, you will be looked upon as a turncoat; indeed, you must wait, before taking any decisive step, until your resignation is accepted."
"Dear little diplomatist, have no fear that they will not accept it, and very gladly. My bungling at Chantilly will spare them any great regret. Did they not tell me," laughed Canolles, "that I was a poor fool?"
"Yes; but we will make up to you for any opinion they may entertain, never fear. Your affair at Chantilly will be more thoroughly appreciated at Bordeaux than at Paris, I assure you. But write, baron, write, so that we may leave this place! for I confess that I am not at ease by any means in this inn."
"Are you speaking of the past; is it the memory of another time that terrifies you so?" said Canolles, gazing fondly about the room.
"No. I am speaking of the present, and you do not enter into my fears to-day."
"Whom do you fear, pray? What have you to fear?"
"Mon Dieu! who knows?"
At that moment, as if to justify the viscountess's apprehension, three blows were struck upon the door with appalling solemnity.
Claire and Canolles ceased their conversation and exchanged an anxious, questioning glance.
"In the king's name!" said a voice outside. "Open!"
The next moment the fragile door was shattered. Canolles attempted to seize his sword, but a man had already stepped between his sword and him.
"What does this mean?" he demanded.
"You are Monsieur le Baron de Canolles, are you not?"
"I am."
"Captain in the Navailles regiment?"
"Yes."
"Sent upon a confidential mission by the Duc d'Épernon?"
Canolles nodded his head.
"In that case, in the names of the king, and her Majesty the Queen Regent, I arrest you."
"Your warrant?"
"Here it is."
"But, monsieur," said Canolles, handing back the paper after he had glanced over it rapidly, "it seems to me that I know you."
"Know me! Parbleu! Wasn't it in the same village where I arrest you to-day, that I brought you an order from Monsieur le Duc d'Épernon to betake yourself to the court? Your fortune was in that commission, my young gentleman. You have missed it; so much the worse for you!"
Claire turned pale, and fell weeping upon a chair; she had recognized the impertinent questioner.
"Monsieur de Mazarin is taking his revenge," muttered Canolles.
"Come, monsieur, we must be off," said Cauvignac.
Claire did not stir. Canolles, undecided as to the course he should pursue, seemed near going mad. The catastrophe was so overpowering and unexpected that he bent beneath its weight; he bowed his head and resigned himself.
Moreover, at that period the words "In the king's name!" had not lost their magic effect, and no one dared resist them.
"Where are you taking me, monsieur?" he said.
"Are you forbidden to afford me the poor consolation of knowing where I am going?"
"No, monsieur, I will tell you. We are to escort you to Île-Saint Georges."
"Adieu, madame," said Canolles, bowing respectfully to Madame de Cambes; "adieu!"
"Well, well," said Cauvignac to himself, "things aren't so far advanced as I thought. I will tell Nanon; it will please her immensely."
"Four men to escort the captain!" he cried, stepping to the door. "Forward, four men!"
"And where am I to be taken?" cried Madame de Cambes, holding out her arms toward the prisoner. "If the baron is guilty, I am still more guilty than he."
"You, madame," replied Cauvignac, "are free, and may go where you choose." And he left the room with the baron.
Madame de Cambes rose, with a gleam of hope, and prepared to leave the inn at once, before contrary orders should be issued.
"Free!" said she. "In that case I can watch over him; I will go at once."
Darting to the window, she was in time to see Canolles in the midst of his escort, and to exchange a farewell wave of the hand with him. Then she called Pompée, who, hoping for a halt of two or three days, had established himself in the best room he could find, and bade him make ready for immediate departure.