CHAPTER XXIX. THE GENEVA DILIGENCE
About the hour when Roland was entering Nantes, a diligence, heavilyloaded, stopped at the inn of the Croix-d'Or, in the middle of the mainstreet of Chatillon-sur-Seine.
In those days the diligences had but two compartments, the coupe and theinterior; the rotunda is an adjunct of modern times.
The diligence had hardly stopped before the postilion jumped down andopened the doors. The travellers dismounted. There were seven in all,of both sexes. In the interior, three men, two women, and a child at thebreast; in the coupe, a mother and her son.
The three men in the interior were, one a doctor from Troyes, the seconda watchmaker from Geneva, the third an architect from Bourg. The twowomen were a lady's maid travelling to Paris to rejoin her mistress, andthe other a wet-nurse; the child was the latter's nursling, which shewas taking back to its parents.
The mother and son in the coupe were people of position; the former,about forty years of age, still preserving traces of great beauty, thelatter a boy between eleven and twelve. The third place in the coupe wasoccupied by the conductor.
Breakfast was waiting, as usual, in the dining-room; one of thosebreakfasts which conductors, no doubt in collusion with the landlords,never give travellers the time to eat. The woman and the nurse got outof the coach and went to a baker's shop nearby, where each bought a hotroll and a sausage, with which they went back to the coach, settlingthemselves quietly to breakfast, thus saving the cost, probably toogreat for their means, of a meal at the hotel.
The doctor, the watchmaker, the architect and the mother and sonentered the inn, and, after warming themselves hastily at the largekitchen-fire, entered the dining-room and took seats at the table.
The mother contented herself with a cup of coffee with cream, and somefruit. The boy, delighted to prove himself a man by his appetite atleast, boldly attacked the viands. The first few moments were, as usual,employed in satisfying hunger. The watchmaker from Geneva was the firstto speak.
"Faith, citizen," said he (the word citizen was still used in publicplaces), "I tell you frankly I was not at all sorry to see daylight thismorning."
"Cannot monsieur sleep in a coach?" asked the doctor.
"Oh, yes, sir," replied the compatriot of Jean-Jacques; "on thecontrary, I usually sleep straight through the night. But anxiety wasstronger than fatigue this time."
"Were you afraid of upsetting?" asked the architect.
"No. I'm very lucky in that respect; it seems enough for me to be in acoach to make it unupsettable. No, that wasn't it."
"What was it, then?" questioned the doctor.
"They say in Geneva that the roads in France are not safe."
"That's according to circumstances," said the architect.
"Ah! how's that?" inquired the watchmaker.
"Oh!" replied the architect; "if, for example, we were carryinggovernment money, we would surely be stopped, or rather we would havebeen already."
"Do you think so?" queried the watchmaker.
"That has never failed. I don't know how those devils of Companions ofJehu manage to keep so well posted; but they never miss an opportunity."
The doctor nodded affirmatively.
"Ah!" exclaimed the watchmaker, addressing the doctor; "do you think so,too?"
"I do."
"And if you knew there was government money in the coach, would you beso imprudent as to take passage in it?"
"I must admit," replied the doctor, "that I should think twice aboutit."
"And you, sir?" said the questioner to the architect.
"Oh, I," replied the latter--"as I am on important business, I shouldhave started anyway."
"I am tempted," said the watchmaker "to take off my valise and my oases,and wait for to-morrow's diligence, because my boxes are filled withwatches worth something like twenty thousand francs. We've been lucky sofar, but there's no use tempting Providence."
"Did you not hear these gentlemen say," remarked the lady, joining inthe conversation for the first time, "that we run the risk of beingstopped only when the coach carries government money?"
"That's exactly it," replied the watchmaker, looking anxiously around."We are carrying it."
The mother blanched visibly and looked at her son. Before fearing forherself every mother fears for her child.
"What! we are carrying it?" asked the doctor and the architect invarying tones of excitement. "Are you sure of what you are saying?"
"Perfectly sure, gentlemen."
"Then you should either have told us before, or have told us in awhisper now."
"But perhaps," said the doctor, "the gentleman is not quite sure of whathe says."
"Or perhaps he is joking," added the architect.
"Heaven forbid!"
"The Genevese are very fond of a laugh," persisted the doctor.
"Sir," replied the Genevese, much hurt that any one should think heliked to laugh, "I saw it put on the coach myself."
"What?"
"The money."
"Was there much?"
"A good many bags."
"But where does the money come from?"
"The treasury of the bears of Berne. You know, of course, that the bearsof Berne received an income of fifty or even sixty thousand francs."
The doctor burst out laughing.
"Decidedly, sir, you are trying to frighten us," said he.
"Gentlemen," said the watchmaker, "I give you my word of honor--"
"Take your places gentlemen," shouted the conductor, opening the door."Take your places! We are three-quarters of an hour late."
"One moment, conductor, one moment," Said the architect; "we areconsulting."
"About what?"
"Close the door, conductor, and come over here."
"Drink a glass of wine with us, conductor."
"With pleasure, gentlemen; a glass of wine is never to be refused."
The conductor held out his glass, and the three travellers touched it;but just as he was lifting it to his lips the doctor stopped his arm.
"Come, conductor, frankly, is it true?"
"What?"
"What this gentleman says?" And he pointed to the Genevese.
"Monsieur Feraud?"
"I don't know if that is his name."
"Yes, sir, that is my name--Feraud & Company, No. 6 Rue du Rempart,Geneva, at your service," replied the watchmaker, bowing.
"Gentlemen," repeated the conductor, "take your places!"
"But you haven't answered."
"What the devil shall I answer? You haven't asked me anything."
"Yes, we asked you if it is true that you are carrying a large sum ofmoney belonging to the French Government?"
"Blabber!" said the conductor to watchmaker, "did you tell that?"
"Confound it, my worthy fellow--"
"Come, gentlemen, your places."
"But before getting in we want to know--"
"What? Whether I have government money? Yes I have. Now, if we arestopped, say nothing and all will be well."
"Are you sure?"
"Leave me to arrange matters with these gentry."
"What will you do if we are stopped?" the doctor asked the architect.
"Faith! I shall follow the conductor's advice."
"That's the best thing to do," observed the latter.
"Well, I shall keep quiet," repeated the architect.
"And so shall I," added the watchmaker.
"Come, gentlemen, take your seats, and let us make haste."
The boy had listened to this conversation with frowning brow andclinched teeth.
"Well," he said to his mother, "if we are stopped, I know what I'll do."
"What will you do?" she asked.
"You'll see."
"What does this little boy say?" asked the watchmaker.
"I say you are all cowards," replied the child unhesitatingly.
"Edouard!" exclaimed his mother, "what do you mean?"
"I wish they'
d stop the diligence, that I do!" cried the boy, his eyesparkling with determination.
"Come, come, gentlemen, in Heaven's name, take your places," called theconductor once more.
"Conductor," said the doctor, "I presume you have no weapons!"
"Yes, I have my pistols."
"Unfortunate!"
The conductor stooped to the doctor's ear and whispered: "Don't bealarmed, doctor; they're only loaded with powder."
"Good!"
"Forward, postilion, forward!" shouted the conductor, closing the doorof the interior. Then, while the postilion snapped his whip and startedthe heavy vehicle, he also closed that of the coupe.
"Are you not coming with us, conductor?" asked the lady.
"Thank you, no, Madame de Montrevel," replied the conductor; "I havesomething to do on the imperial." Then, looking into the window, headded: "Take care the Monsieur Edouard does not touch the pistols in thepocket of the carriage; he might hurt himself."
"Pooh!" retorted the boy, "as if I didn't know how to handle a pistol. Ihave handsomer ones than yours, that my friend Sir John had sent me fromEngland; haven't I, mamma?"
"Never mind, Edouard," replied Madame de Montrevel, "I entreat you notto touch them."
"Don't worry, little mother." Then he added softly, "All the same, ifthe Companions of Jehu stop us, I know what I shall do."
The diligence was again rolling heavily on its way to Paris.
It was one of those fine winter days which makes those who think thatnature is dead at that season admit that nature never dies but onlysleeps. The man who lives to be seventy or eighty years of age has hisnights of ten or twelve hours, and often complains that the lengthof his nights adds to the shortness of his days. Nature, which has aneverlasting existence; trees, which live a thousand years; have sleepingperiods of four or five months, which are winters for us but only nightsfor them. The poets, in their envious verse, sing the immortality ofnature, which dies each autumn and revives each spring. The poets aremistaken; nature does not die each autumn, she only falls asleep; sheis not resuscitated, she awakens. The day when our globe really dies,it will be dead indeed. Then it will roll into space or fall into theabysses of chaos, inert, mute, solitary, without trees, without flowers,without verdure, without poets.
But on this beautiful day of the 23d of February, 1800, sleeping naturedreamed of spring; a brilliant, almost joyous sun made the grass in theditches on either side of the road sparkle with those deceptive pearlsof the hoarfrost which vanish at a touch, and rejoice the heart of atiller of the earth when he sees them glittering at the points of hiswheat as it pushes bravely up through the soil. All the windows of thediligence were lowered, to give entrance to this earliest smile of theDivine, as though all hearts were saying: "Welcome back, travellerlong lost in the clouds of the West, or beneath the heaving billows ofOcean!"
Suddenly, about an hour after leaving Chatillon, the diligence stoppedat a bend of the river without any apparent cause. Four horsemen quietlyapproached, walking their horses, and one of them, a little in advanceof the others, made a sign with his hand to the postilion, ordering himto draw up. The postilion obeyed.
"Oh, mamma!" cried Edouard, standing up and leaning out of the windowin spite of Madame de Montrevel's protestations; "oh, mamma, what finehorses! But why do these gentlemen wear masks? This isn't carnival."
Madame de Montrevel was dreaming. A woman always dreams a little; young,of the future; old, of the past. She started from her revery, put herhead out of the window, and gave a little cry.
Edouard turned around hastily.
"What ails you, mother?" he asked.
Madame de Montrevel turned pale and took him in her arms without a word.Cries of terror were heard in the interior.
"But what is the matter?" demanded little Edouard, struggling to escapefrom his mother's encircling arms.
"Nothing, my little man," said one of the masked men in a gentle voice,putting his head through the window of the coupe; "nothing but anaccount we have to settle with the conductor, which does not in theleast concern you travellers. Tell your mother to accept our respectfulhomage, and to pay no more heed to us than if we were not here." Thenpassing to the door of the interior, he added: "Gentlemen, your servant.Fear nothing for your money or jewels, and reassure that nurse--we havenot come here to turn her milk." Then to the conductor: "Now, then, PereJerome, we have a hundred thousand francs on the imperial and in theboxes, haven't we?"
"Gentlemen, I assure you--"
"That the money belongs to the government. It did belong to the bears ofBerne; seventy thousand francs in gold, the rest in silver. The silveris on the top of the coach, the gold in the bottom of the coupe. Isn'tthat so? You see how well informed we are."
At the words "bottom of the coupe" Madame de Montrevel gave another cryof terror; she was about to come in contact with men who, in spite oftheir politeness, inspired her with the most profound terror.
"But what is the matter, mother, what is the matter?" demanded the boyimpatiently.
"Be quiet, Edouard; be quiet!"
"Why must I be quiet?"
"Don't you understand?"
"No."
"The coach has been stopped."
"Why? Tell me why? Ah, mother, I understand."
"No, no," said Madame de Montrevel, "you don't understand."
"Those gentlemen are robbers."
"Take care you don't say so."
"What, you mean they are not robbers? Why, see they are taking theconductor's money."
Sure enough, one of the four was fastening to the saddle of his horsethe bags of silver which the conductor threw down from the imperial.
"No," repeated Madame de Montrevel, "no, they are not robbers." Thenlowering her voice, she added: "They are Companions of Jehu."
"Ah!" cried the boy, "they are the ones who assassinated my friend, SirJohn."
And the child turned very pale, and his breath came hissing through hisclinched teeth.
At that moment one of the masked men opened the door of the coupe, andsaid with exquisite politeness: "Madame la Comtesse, to our great regretwe are obliged to disturb you; but we want, or rather the conductorwants, a package from the bottom of the coupe. Will you be so kind asto get out for a moment? Jerome will get what he wants as quickly aspossible." Then, with that note of gayety which was never entirelyabsent from that laughing voice, he added, "Won't you, Jerome?"
Jerome replied from the top of the diligence, confirming these words.
With an instinctive movement to put herself between the danger and herson, Madame de Montrevel, while complying with that request, pushedEdouard behind her. That instant sufficed for the boy to seize theconductor's pistols.
The young man with the laughing voice assisted Madame de Montrevel fromthe coach with the greatest care, then signed to one of his companionsto give her an arm, and returned to the coach.
But at that instant a double report was heard. Edouard had fired apistol with each hand at the Companion of Jehu, who disappeared in thesmoke.
Madame de Montrevel screamed, and fainted away. Various cries,expressive of diverse sentiments, echoed that of the mother.
From the interior came one of terror; they had all agreed to offer noresistance, and now some one had resisted. From the three young men camea cry of surprise--it was the first time such a thing had happened.
They rushed to their companion, expecting to find him reduced topulp; but they found him safe and sound, laughing heartily, while theconductor, with clasped hands, was exclaiming: "Monsieur, I swear therewere no balls; monsieur, I protest, they were only charged with powder."
"The deuce," said the young man, "don't I see that? But the intentionwas good, wasn't it, my little Edouard?" Then, turning to hiscompanions, he added: "Confess, gentlemen, that he is a fine boy--a trueson of his father, and brother of his brother. Bravo, Edouard! you'llmake a man some day!"
Taking the boy in his arms, he kissed him, in spite of his struggles, onboth cheeks.
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Edouard fought like a demon, thinking no doubt that it was veryhumiliating to be embraced by a man at whom he had just fired twopistols.
In the meantime one of the Companions had carried Edouard's mother tothe bank by the roadside a little distance from the diligence. The manwho had kissed Edouard with so much affection and persistence now lookedaround for her.
"Ah!" cried he, on perceiving her, "Madame de Montrevel stillunconscious? We can't leave a woman in that condition, gentlemen.Conductor, take Master Edouard." Placing the boy in Jerome's arms, heturned to one of his companions: "Man of precautions," said he, "haven'tyou smelling salts or a bottle of essence with you?"
"Here!" said the young man he had addressed, pulling a flask of toiletvinegar from his pocket.
"Good," said the other, who seemed to be the leader of the band. "Do youfinish up the matter with Master Jerome; I'll take charge of Madame deMontrevel."
It was indeed time. The fainting fit was giving place to a violentnervous attack; spasmodic movements shook her whole body and strangledcries came from her throat. The young man leaned over her and made herinhale the salts.
Madame de Montrevel presently opened her frightened eyes, and calledout: "Edouard! Edouard!" With an involuntary movement she knocked asidethe mask of the man who was supporting her, exposing his face.
The courteous, laughing young man--our readers have already recognizedhim--was Morgan.
Madame de Montrevel paused in amazement at sight of those beautiful blueeyes, the lofty brow, and the gracious lips smiling at her. She realizedthat she ran no danger from such a man, and that no harm could havebefallen Edouard. Treating Morgan as a gentleman who had succored her,and not as a bandit who had caused her fainting-fit, she exclaimed: "Ah,sir! how kind you are."
In the words, in the tones in which she uttered them, there lay a worldof thanks, not only for herself, but for her child.
With singular delicacy, entirely in keeping with his chivalric nature,Morgan, instead of picking up his fallen mask and covering his faceimmediately, so that Madame de Montrevel could only have retained afleeting and confused impression of it--Morgan replied to her complimentby a low bow, leaving his features uncovered long enough to producetheir impression; then, placing d'Assas' flask in Madame de Montrevel'shand--and then only--he replaced his mask. Madame de Montrevelunderstood the young man's delicacy.
"Ah! sir," said she, "be sure that, in whatever place or situation I seeyou again, I shall not recognize you."
"Then, madame," replied Morgan, "it is for me to thank you and repeat,'How kind you are.'"
"Come, gentlemen, take your seats!" said the conductor, in his customarytone, as if nothing unusual had happened.
"Are you quite restored, madame, or should you like a few minutes moreto rest?" asked Morgan. "The diligence shall wait."
"No, that is quite unnecessary; I feel quite well, and am much indebtedto you."
Morgan offered Madame de Montrevel his arm, and she leaned upon it toreach the diligence. The conductor had already placed little Edouardinside. When Madame de Montrevel had resumed her seat, Morgan, who hadalready made his peace with the mother, wished to do so with the son.
"Without a grudge, my young hero," he said, offering his hand.
But the boy drew back.
"I don't give my hand to a highway robber," he replied. Madame deMontrevel gave a start of terror.
"You have a charming boy, madame," said Morgan; "only he has hisprejudices." Then, bowing with the utmost courtesy, he added, "Aprosperous voyage, madame," and closed the door.
"Forward!" cried the conductor.
The carriage gave a lurch.
"Oh! pardon me, sir!" exclaimed Madame de Montrevel; "your flask!"
"Keep it, madame," said Morgan; "although I trust you are sufficientlyrecovered not to need it."
But Edouard, snatching the flask from his mother's hands, flung it outof the window, crying: "Mamma doesn't receive presents from robbers."
"The devil!" murmured Morgan, with the first sigh his Companions hadever heard him give. "I think I am right not to ask for my poorAmelie in marriage." Then, turning to his Companions, he said: "Well,gentlemen, is it finished?"
"Yes," they answered with one voice.
"Then let us mount and be off. Don't forget we have to be at the Operaat nine o'clock this evening."
Springing into his saddle, he was the first to jump the ditch, reachthe river, and there unhesitatingly took the ford which the pretendedcourier had pointed out on Cassini's map.
When he reached the opposite bank, followed by the other young men,d'Assas said to him: "Say, didn't your mask falloff?"
"Yes; but no one saw my face but Madame de Montrevel."
"Hum!" muttered d'Assas. "Better no one had seen it."
Putting their horses to a gallop, all four disappeared across the fieldsin the direction of Chacource.