CHAPTER XLV. THE FOLLOWER OF TRAILS
The reader will not have forgotten the situation in which the escort ofchasseurs found the Chambery mail-coach.
The first thing they did was to look for the obstacle which preventedRoland from getting out. They found the padlock and wrenched off thedoor.
Roland bounded from the coach like a tiger from its cage. We have saidthat the ground was covered with snow. Roland, hunter and soldier, hadbut one idea--to follow the trail of the Companions of Jehu. He had seenthem disappear in the direction of Thoissy; but he believed they werenot likely to continue in that direction because, between them and thelittle town ran the Saone, and there were no bridges across the riverbetween Belleville and Macon. He ordered the escort and the conductorto wait for him on the highroad, and alone and on foot, without evenwaiting to reload his pistols, he started on the tracks of Morgan andhis companions.
He was not mistaken. A mile from the highroad the fugitives had cometo the river; there they had halted, probably deliberating, for thetrampling of their horses' hoofs was plainly visible; then they hadseparated into two troops, one going up the river to Macon, and theother descending it in the direction of Belleville.
This separation was doubtless intended to puzzle their pursuers, ifthey were pursued. Roland had heard the parting call of the leader:"To-morrow night, you know where!" He had no doubt, therefore, thatwhichever trail he followed, whether up or down--if the snow did notmelt too fast--would lead him to the rendezvous, where, either togetheror singly, the Companions of Jehu were certain to assemble.
He returned upon his own tracks, ordered the conductor to put on theboots thrown aside by the pretended postilion, mount the horse andtake the coach to the next relay, namely Belleville. The sergeant ofchasseurs and four of his men, who knew how to write, were to accompanythe conductor and sign his report of what had occurred. Roland forbadeall mention of himself and where he had gone, lest the brigands shouldget word of his future plans. The rest of the escort were to carry backtheir colonel's body, and make deposition on their own account, alongthe same lines as the conductor, to the authorities, and equally withoutmention of Roland.
These orders given, the young man dismounted a chasseur and took hishorse, selecting the one he thought most serviceable. Then he reloadedhis pistols, and put them in the holsters in place of the regulationweapons of the dismounted chasseur. Having done this, and promised theconductor and the chasseurs a speedy vengeance, conditioned, however, ontheir keeping his present proceedings secret, he mounted the horse androde off in the direction he had already investigated.
When he reached the spot where the two troops had separated, he had todecide between the different trails. He chose that which descended theSaone toward Belleville. He had excellent reason for making this choice,although it might possibly take him out of his way for six or eightmiles. In the first place he was nearer Belleville than Macon; then hehad spent twenty-four hours at Macon, and might be recognized there,whereas he had never stopped at Belleville longer than the time requiredto change horses when accident brought him there by post.
The events we have just recorded had taken barely an hour to happen.Eight o'clock was striking from the church clock at Thoissy when Rolandstarted in pursuit of the fugitives. The way was plain; five or sixhorses had left their imprint on the snow; one of these horses hadpaced.
Roland jumped the two or three brooks which watered the space he had tocross to reach Belleville. A hundred yards from the town he paused, forhere the trail separated again; two of the six travellers had turned tothe right, that is to say, they had struck away from the river, thefour others to the left, continuing on their way to Belleville. At theoutskirts of the town, another secession had taken place; three of theriders had gone round the town, one had entered it.
Roland followed the latter, sure that he could recover the traces of theothers. The one who had entered the town and followed the main streethad stopped at a pretty house between court and garden, numbered 67. Hehad rung and some one had let him in; for through the iron grating couldbe seen traces of footsteps, and beside them the tracks of a horse beingled to the stable.
It was quite evident that one, at least, of the Companions of Jehuhad stopped there. By going to the mayor of the town, exhibiting hisauthority, and asking for gendarmes, Roland could have arrested him atonce. But that was not his object; he did not wish to arrest a solitaryindividual; he wanted to catch the whole company in a trap.
He made a note in his mind of No. 67, and continued on his way. Hecrossed the entire town and rode a few hundred paces beyond it withoutmeeting any fresh traces. He was about to return, when it occurred tohim that, if the tracks of the three riders reappeared anywhere, itwould be at the head of the bridge. And there, sure enough, he found thehoof-prints of three horses, which were undoubtedly those he sought, forone of them paced.
Roland galloped in pursuit. On reaching Monceaux--same precaution,the riders had skirted the village; but Roland was too good a scout totrouble himself about that. He kept on his way, and at the other end ofMonceaux he recovered the fugitives' tracks. Not far from Chatillon oneof the three horses had left the highroad, turning to the right towarda little chateau, standing on a hill a short distance from the roadbetween Chatillon and Trevoux. This time the three remaining riders,evidently believing they had done enough to mislead any one who might befollowing, had kept straight on through Chatillon and taken the road toNeuville.
The direction taken by the fugitives was eminently satisfactory toRoland; they were undoubtedly on their way to Bourg; if they had notintended to go there they would have taken the road to Marlieux. Now,Bourg was the headquarters Roland had himself chosen for the centreof his own operations; it was his own town, and he knew, with theminuteness of boyish knowledge, every bush, every ruin, every cavern inthe neighborhood.
At Neuville the riders had skirted the village. Roland did not troublehimself about a ruse, already known and thwarted; but on the other sidehe found but one trail. He could not be mistaken in that horse, however;it was the pacer. Certain of recovering the trail again, Roland retracedhis steps. The two riders had separated at a road leading off to Vannes;one had taken that road, the other had skirted the village, which, aswe have said, was on the road to Bourg. This was the one to follow;besides, the gait of the horse made it easier, as it could not beconfused with any other. Moreover, he was on his way to Bourg, andbetween Neuville and Bourg there was but one other village, that ofSaint-Denis. For the rest, it was not probable that the solitary riderintended to go further than Bourg.
Roland continued on his way with more eagerness than ever, convincedthat he was nearing the end. In fact the rider had not skirted Bourg,but had boldly entered the town. There, it seemed to Roland that theman had hesitated, unless this hesitation were a last ruse to hide histracks. But after ten minutes spent in following his devious tracksRoland was sure of his facts; it was not trickery but hesitation.
The print of a man's steps came from a side street; the traveller andthe pedestrian had conferred together for a moment, and then the formerhad evidently employed the latter as a guide. From that point on, thefootsteps of a man went side by side with those of the horse. Both cameto an end at the hotel de la Belle-Alliance. Roland remembered that thehorse wounded in the attack at Les Carronnieres had been brought to thisinn. In all probability there was some connivance between the inn-keeperand the Companion of Jehu. For the rest, in all probability the riderwould stay there until the next evening. Roland felt by his own fatiguethat the man he was following must need rest. And Roland, in ordernot to force his horse and the better to reconnoitre the tracks he wasfollowing, had taken six hours to do thirty miles.
Three o'olock was striking from the truncated bell-tower of Notre-Dame.Roland debated what to do. Should he stop at some inn in the town?Impossible, he was too well known in Bourg; besides, his horse withits cavalry saddle-cloth would excite suspicion. It was one of theconditions of success that his presence at Bourg
should remain unknown.
He could hide at the Chateau des Noires-Fontaines and keep on the watch,but could he trust the servants? Michel and Jacques would hold theirtongues, Roland was sure of them; but Charlotte, the jailer's daughter,she might gossip. However, it was three o'clock in the morning, everyone was asleep, and the safest plan was certainly to put himself incommunication with Michel. Michel would find some way of concealing hispresence.
To the deep regret of his horse, who had no doubt scented a stable,Roland wheeled about and rode off in the direction of Pont-d'Ain. As hepassed the church of Brou he glanced at the barrack of the gendarmes,where, in all probability, they and their captain were sleeping thesleep of the righteous.
Roland cut through the little strip of forest which jutted into theroad. The snow deadened the sound of his horse's hoofs. Branching intothe road from the other side, he saw two men slinking along in theditch, carrying a deer slung by its forelegs to a sapling. He thought herecognized the cut of the two men, and he spurred his horse to overtakethem. The men were on the watch; they turned, saw the rider, who wasevidently making for them, flung the animal into the ditch, and made forthe shelter of the forest of Seillon.
"Hey, Michel!" cried Roland, more and more convinced that he had to dowith his own gardener.
Michel stopped short; the other man kept on his way across the fields.
"Hey, Jacques!" shouted Roland.
The other man stopped. If they were recognized, it was useless to fly;besides, there was nothing hostile in the call; the voice was friendly,rather than threatening.
"Bless me!" said Jacques, "it sounds like M. Roland."
"I do believe it is he," said Michel.
And the two men, instead of continuing their flight, returned to thehighroad.
Roland had not heard what the two poachers had said, but he had guessed.
"Hey, the deuce! of course it is I," he shouted.
A minute more and Michel and Jacques were beside him. The questionsof father and son were a crossfire, and it must be owned they had goodreason for amazement. Roland, in civilian's dress, on a cavalry horse,at three in the morning, on the road from Bourg to the chateau! Theyoung officer cut short all questions.
"Silence, poachers!" said he, "put that deer behind me and be off attrot to the chateau. No one must know of my presence there, not even mysister."
Roland spoke with military precision, and both men knew that when hegave an order there was no replying. They picked up the deer, put itbehind his saddle, and followed the gentle trot of the horse at a run.There was less than a mile to do, and it took but ten minutes. At ashort distance from the chateau, Roland pulled up. The two men wentforward as scouts to see if all were quiet. Satisfied on that point,they made a sign to Roland to advance.
Roland came, dismounted, found the door of the lodge open, and entered.Michel took the horse to the stable and carried the deer to the kitchen;for Michel belonged to that honorable class of poachers, who kill gamefor the pleasure of killing, and not for the selfish interest of sale.There was no need for precaution, either for horse or deer; for Amelietook no more notice of what went on in the stable than of what theyserved her to eat.
During this time Jacques lighted the fire. When Michel returned hebrought the remains of a leg of mutton and some eggs for an omelet.Jacques made up a bed in the office.
Roland warmed himself and ate his supper without saying a word. The twomen looked at each other with an astonishment that was not devoid of acertain degree of anxiety. A rumor of the expedition to Seillon had gotabout, and it was whispered that Roland had led it. Apparently, he hadreturned for another similar expedition.
When Roland had finished his supper he looked up and saw Michel.
"Ah! so there you are?" he exclaimed.
"I am waiting for Monsieur's orders."
"Here they are; listen carefully."
"I'm all ears."
"It's a question of life or death; of more than that, of my honor."
"Speak, Monsieur Roland."
Roland pulled out his watch.
"It is now five o'clock. When the inn of the Belle-Alliance opens, bethere, as if you were just sauntering by; then stop a minute to chatwith whoever opens it."
"That will probably be Pierre."
"Pierre or another; find out from him who the traveller is who arrivedlast night on a pacing horse. You know what pacing is, don't you?"
"The deuce! You mean a horse that goes like a bear, both feet forward atthe same time."
"Bravo! You can also find out whether the traveller is leaving thismorning, or whether he proposes to spend the day at the hotel, can'tyou?"
"Of course I can find that out."
"Well, when you have found out all that, come and tell me; but remember,not a word about my being here. If any one asks about me, say that theyhad a letter from me yesterday, and that I was in Paris with the FirstConsul."
"That's understood."
Michel departed. Roland went to bed and to sleep, leaving Jacques toguard the building.
When Roland awoke Michel had returned. He had found out all that hismaster desired to know. The horseman who had arrived in the night wasto leave the next morning, and on the travellers' register, whichevery innkeeper was obliged by law to keep in those days, was entered:"Saturday, 30th Pluviose, _ten at night_; the citizen Valensolle, fromLyons going to Geneva." Thus the alibi was prepared; for the registerwould prove that the citizen Valensolle had arrived at ten o'clock, andit was impossible that he could have assisted in robbing the mail-coachnear the Maison-Blanche at half-past eight and yet have reached theHotel de la Belle-Alliance at ten.
But what impressed Roland the most was that the man he had followedthrough the night, and whose name and retreat he had just discovered,was none other than the second of Alfred de Barjols, whom he himselfhad killed in a duel near the fountain of Vaucluse; and that that secondwas, in all probability, the man who had played the part of ghost at theChartreuse of Seillon.
So, then, the Companions of Jehu were not mere thieves, but, on thecontrary, as rumor said, gentlemen of good family, who, while the nobleBretons were laying down their lives for the royalist cause in the West,were, here in the East, braving the scaffold to send to the combatantsthe money they took from the government.