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Their arms were linked, and Binet's grip was firm and powerful. "Now, my friend," said he, "will you be M. Parvissimus and play Scaramouche to-morrow, or will you be Andre-Louis Moreau of Gavrillac and go to Rennes to satisfy the King's Lieutenant?" "And if it should happen that you are mistaken?" quoth Andre-Louis, his face a mask. "I'll take the risk of that," leered M. Binet.
"When, kneeling beside the body of your friend that day at Gavrillac, you insulted and provoked me, had I been the tiger you conceived me I must have killed you too. I am, as you may know, a man of quick passions. Yet I curbed the natural anger you aroused in me, because I could forgive an affront to myself where I could not overlook a calculated attack upon my order." He paused a moment.
You imagined, of course, that I was a scene-shifter. And now that you know all about me, what of Gavrillac? What of my godfather?" He was well, she told him, and still profoundly indignant with Andre-Louis for his defection, whilst secretly concerned on his behalf. "I shall write to him to-day that I have seen you." "Do so. Tell him that I am well and prospering. But say no more.
Therefore he made a wide detour, crossing the river at Bruz, and recrossing it a little above Chavagne, so as to approach Gavrillac from the north, and create the impression that he was returning from Rennes, whither he was known to have gone two days ago. Within a mile or so of the village he caught in the fading light his first glimpse of a figure on horseback pacing slowly towards him.
He had skirted the little township of Guichen, and now within a half-mile of Guignen, and with Gavrillac a good seven miles behind him, his legs refused to carry him any farther. He was midway across the vast common to the north of Guignen when he came to a halt.
Before they reached that sheet of paper nailed upon the door, he knew exactly what it would say. And in effect it was, as he had supposed, that twenty louis would be paid for information leading to the apprehension of one Andre-Louis Moreau, lawyer of Gavrillac, who was wanted by the King's Lieutenant in Rennes upon a charge of sedition. M. Binet watched him whilst he read.
A man of his almost Spartan habits, accustomed to plain fare and self-help, was a little uneasy in this sybaritic abode, with its soft carpets, profusion of gilding, and battalion of sleek, silent-footed servants for Kercadiou the younger had left his entire household behind. Time, which at Gavrillac he had kept so fully employed in agrarian concerns, here hung heavily upon his hands.
"Where have I been, Cousin Aline? Oh... seeing the world." "I have been patrolling this road since noon to-day waiting for you." She spoke breathlessly, in haste to explain. "A troop of the marechaussee from Rennes descended upon Gavrillac this morning in quest of you.
The carriage rolled away, the powdered footman in blue-and-gold very stiff behind it, M. de La Tour d'Azyr bowing to mademoiselle, who waved to him in answer. Then M. de Vilmorin put his arm through that of Andre Louis, and said to him, "Come, Andre." "But you'll stay to dine, both of you!" cried the hospitable Lord of Gavrillac.
They've burnt his chateau at La Tour d'Azyr. Unfortunately he wasn't in it at the time. The flames haven't even singed his insolence. He dreams that when this philosophic aberration is at an end, there will be serfs to rebuild it for him." "So there has been trouble in Brittany?" Andre-Louis had become suddenly grave, his thoughts swinging to Gavrillac. "An abundance of it, and elsewhere too.
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