Monsieur Lecoq by Émile Gaboriau (romance novel chinese novels .txt) 📕

audacity to follow her! Will he follow her? Oh, no; he dare not!”

When the carriage passed through the village of Sairmeuse, Mlle. Blanche noticed an unwonted animation.

There were lights in every house, the saloons seemed full of drinkers, and groups of people were standing upon the public square and upon the doorsteps.

But what did this matter to Mlle. de Courtornieu! It was not until they were a mile or so from Sairmeuse that she was startled from her revery.

“Listen, Aunt Medea,” she said, suddenly. “Do you hear anything?”

The poor dependent listened. Both occupants of the carriage heard shouts that became more and more distinct with each revolution of the wheels.

“Let us find out the meaning of this,” said Mlle. Blanche.

And lowering one of the carriage-windows, she asked the coachman the cause of the disturbance.

“I see a great crowd of peasants on the hill; they have torches and⁠—”

“Blessed Jesus!” interrupted Aunt Medea, in alarm.

“It must be a wedding,” added the coachman, whipping up his horses.

It was not a wedding, but Lacheneur’s little band, which had been augmented to the number of about five hundred. Lacheneur should have been at the Croix d’Arcy two hours before. But he had shared the fate of most popular chiefs. When an impetus had been given to the movement he was no longer master of it.

Baron d’Escorval had made him lose twenty minutes; he was delayed four times as long in Sairmeuse. When he reached that village, a little behind time, he found the peasants scattered through the wine-shops, drinking to the success of the enterprise.

To tear them from their merrymaking was a long and difficult task.

And to crown all, when they were finally induced to resume their line of march, it was impossible to persuade them to extinguish the pine knots which they had lighted to serve as torches.

Prayers and threats were alike unavailing. “They wished to see their way,” they said.

Poor deluded creatures! They had not the slightest conception of the difficulties and the perils of the enterprise they had undertaken.

They were going to capture a fortified city, defended by a numerous garrison, as if they were bound on a pleasure jaunt.

Gay, thoughtless, and animated by the imperturbable confidence of a child, they were marching along, arm in arm, singing patriotic songs.

On horseback, in the centre of the band, M. Lacheneur felt his hair turning white with anguish.

Would not this delay ruin everything? What would the others, who were waiting at the Croix d’Arcy, think! What were they doing at this very moment?

“Onward! onward!” he repeated.

Maurice, Chanlouineau, Jean, Marie-Anne, and about twenty of the old soldiers of the Empire, understood and shared Lacheneur’s despair. They knew the terrible danger they were incurring, and they, too, repeated:

“Faster! Let us march faster!”

Vain exhortation! It pleased these people to go slowly.

Suddenly the entire band stopped. Some of the peasants, chancing to look back, had seen the lamps of Mlle. de Courtornieu’s carriage gleaming in the darkness.

It came rapidly onward, and soon overtook them. The peasants recognized the coachman’s livery, and greeted the vehicle with shouts of derision.

M. de Courtornieu, by his avariciousness, had made even more enemies than the Duc de Sairmeuse; and all the peasants who thought they had more or less reason to complain of his extortions were delighted at this opportunity to frighten him.

For, that they were not thinking of vengeance, is conclusively proved by the sequel.

Hence great was their disappointment when, on opening the carriage-door, they saw within the vehicle only Mlle. Blanche and Aunt Medea, who uttered the most piercing shrieks.

But Mlle. de Courtornieu was a brave woman.

“Who are you?” she demanded, haughtily, “and what do you desire?”

“You will know tomorrow,” replied Chanlouineau. “Until then, you are our prisoner.”

“I see that you do not know who I am, boy.”

“Excuse me. I do know who you are, and, for this very reason, I request you to descend from your carriage. She must leave the carriage, must she not, Monsieur d’Escorval?”

“Very well! I declare that I will not leave my carriage; tear me from it if you dare!”

They would certainly have dared had it not been for Marie-Anne, who checked some peasants as they were springing toward the carriage.

“Let Mademoiselle de Courtornieu pass without hinderance,” said she.

But this permission might produce such serious consequences that Chanlouineau found courage to resist.

“That cannot be, Marie-Anne,” said he; “she will warn her father. We must keep her as a hostage; her life may save the life of our friends.”

Mlle. Blanche had not recognized her former friend, any more than she had suspected the intentions of this crowd of men.

But Marie-Anne’s name, uttered with that of d’Escorval enlightened her at once.

She understood it all, and trembled with rage at the thought that she was at the mercy of her rival. She resolved to place herself under no obligation to Marie-Anne Lacheneur.

“Very well,” said she, “we will descend.”

Her former friend checked her.

“No,” said she, “no! This is not the place for a young girl.”

“For an honest young girl, you should say,” replied Blanche, with a sneer.

Chanlouineau was standing only a few feet from the speaker with his gun in his hand. If a man had uttered those words he would have been instantly killed. Marie-Anne did not deign to notice them.

“Mademoiselle will turn back,” she said, calmly; “and as she can reach Montaignac by the other road, two men will accompany her as far as Courtornieu.”

She was obeyed. The carriage turned and rolled away, but not so quickly that Marie-Anne failed to hear Blanche cry:

“Beware, Marie! I will make you pay dearly for your insulting patronage!”

The hours were flying by. This incident had occupied ten minutes more⁠—ten centuries⁠—and the last trace of order had disappeared.

M. Lacheneur could have wept with rage. He called Maurice and Chanlouineau.

“I place you in command,” said he; “do all that you can to hurry these idiots onward. I will ride as fast as I can to the Croix d’Arcy.”

He started, but he was only a short distance in advance of his followers when he saw two men running toward him at full speed. One