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Then, without another word, he dragged the man to the citadel, gave him in charge of the astonished soldiers, and again started for M. de Courtornieu's house. He expected the marquis would be terrified; not in the least; he seemed delighted. "At last there comes an opportunity for us to display our devotion and our zeal and without danger!
The result of all this was, that when the Marquis de Courtornieu's report reached Paris, it was answered by a decree depriving him of the office of grand prevot. This unexpected blow crushed him.
"If we only had a man like Chupin to set upon the track!" But the old poacher was dead, and his eldest son the one who knew Blanche de Courtornieu's secret was in Paris. Only the widow and the second son remained in Sairmeuse. They had not, as yet, succeeded in discovering the twenty thousand francs, but the fever for gold was burning in their veins, and they persisted in their search.
Had M. de Courtornieu's counsels carried the day, or had Martial sent someone to aid him? "We must not be dawdling here," said the corporal, as soon as the door was closed. M. d'Escorval bounded from his chair. This man was a friend. Here was aid and life. "I am Bavois," continued the corporal.
But the Marquis de Courtornieu's coolness restored the duke's sang-froid. He ran to the barracks, and in less than half an hour five hundred foot-soldiers and three hundred of the Montaignac chasseurs were under arms. With these forces at his disposal it would have been easy enough to suppress this movement without the least bloodshed. It was only necessary to close the gates of the city.
She seemed to have forgotten her friend, and she was chatting gayly. When they approached the chateau, she was interrupted by a sound of voices raised to the highest pitch. It was the address to the King which was agitating the council convened in M. de Courtornieu's cabinet. Mlle. Blanche paused. "I am trespassing upon your kindness, Monsieur.
And her suffering, explained by the presence of this young girl who once had been her friend, but who was now her bitterest enemy, she exclaimed: "You are my murderer!" Blanche de Courtornieu's was one of those iron natures that break, but never bend. Since she had been discovered, nothing in the world would induce her to deny her guilt.
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.
Blanche all that he heard in the Marquis de Courtornieu's cabinet, he would probably have astonished her a little. He, himself, if he had sincerely confessed his impressions and his reflections, would have been obliged to admit that he was greatly amazed.
He crumbled the letter between his hands and threw it in M. de Courtornieu's face, saying: "Here is your reward coward!" Overwhelmed by this denouement the marquis sank into an arm-chair, and Martial, still holding Jean Lacheneur by the arm, was leaving the room, when his young wife, wild with despair, tried to detain him. "You shall not go!" she exclaimed, intensely exasperated; "you shall not!
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