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Updated: May 18, 2025
"Your Highness," said Chateaudoux, "upon all those points he bade me say you should be satisfied. All he asks is that you will be ready at the time." A gust of hail struck the window and made the room tremble. Clementina laughed; her mother shivered. "The Prince of Baden," said she, with a sigh. Clementina shrugged her shoulders.
Misset nodded and handed it to O'Toole, who read it four times and handed it back to Gaydon with a flourish of the hand as though the matter was now quite plain to him. "Chateaudoux has a sweetheart," said he, sententiously. "Very good; I do not think the worse of him." Gaydon glanced a second time through the letter. "The Princess says that you must have the Prince Sobieski's written consent."
M. Chateaudoux gave a fairly accurate description of Gaydon. "I know no one whom the portrait fits," said the mother, and again Clementina cried, "Can you not guess? Then, mother, I will punish you. For though I know in very truth, I know I will not tell you." She turned back to Chateaudoux. "Well, his message? He did fix a time, a day, an hour, for my escape?"
On the third afternoon M. Chateaudoux found the hawker seated in the middle of the avenue and over against the door of the guarded villa. M. Chateaudoux, when his timidity slept, was capable of good nature. There was a soldier with a loaded musket in full view. The hawker, besides, had not pestered him.
April was budless and cold, a month of storms; the snow drifted deep along the streets and M. Chateaudoux was much inconvenienced during his promenades in the afternoon. He would come back with most reproachful eyes for Clementina in that she so stubbornly clung to her vagabond exile and refused so fine a match as the Prince of Baden.
He heard the door open and shut; he heard Chateaudoux draw the bolts. Then he stepped out from the curtain. "Your Highness, that was bravely done," said he, and kneeling he kissed her hand. He went back into the embrasure, slipped the bundle over his arm, and opened the window very silently. He saw the snow was still falling, the wind still moaning about the crannies and roaring along the streets.
The snow still fell; he was glad to note the only light was a white glimmering from the waste of snow upon the ground. "You must go out with her," Wogan whispered to Chateaudoux, "and speak a word to the sentry." "At any moment the magistrate may come," said Chateaudoux, though he trembled so that he could hardly speak.
He determined to buy some small thing, a mirror, perhaps, which was always useful, and he approached the hawker, who for his part wearily flicked the gravel with his stick and drew a curve here and a line there until, as M. Chateaudoux stopped before the bench, there lay sketched at his feet the rude semblance of a crown. The stick swept over it the next instant and left the gravel smooth.
The man was ragged; his toes were thrusting through his shoes; it was evident that he wore no linen, and a week's growth of beard dirtily stubbled his chin, in a word, he was a man from whom M. Chateaudoux's prim soul positively shrank. M. Chateaudoux went quickly by, fearing to be pestered for alms.
"He brings a woman to take your place, who, lying in bed with the curtains drawn, will the later be discovered." The Princess's mother saw here a hindrance to success and eagerly she spoke of it. "How will the woman enter? How, too, will my daughter leave?" M. Chateaudoux coughed and hemmed in a great confusion.
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