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Updated: May 26, 2025
For M. d'Escorval, above all others, Abbe Midon would make haste. The baron was his friend; and a terrible apprehension seized him when he saw Mme. d'Escorval at the gate watching for him. By the way in which she rushed to meet him, he thought she was about to announce some irreparable misfortune. But no she took his hand, and, without uttering a word, she led him to her son's chamber.
"I think you must certainly have gone mad, Marquis," he exclaimed. "That is the only valid excuse you can offer." But Martial, who had been expecting this visit, had prepared himself for it. "Never, on the contrary, have I felt more calm and composed in mind," he replied. "Allow me to ask you one question. Was it you who sent the soldiers to the rendezvous which Maurice d'Escorval had appointed?"
Martial's face crimsoned at the insult; but he retained his composure. "What do you desire?" he asked, coldly. Jean drew from his pocket a folded letter. "I am to give you this on behalf of Maurice d'Escorval." With an eager hand, Martial broke the seal. He glanced over the letter, turned as pale as death, staggered and said only one word. "Infamous!" "What must I say to Maurice?" insisted Jean.
It chanced to be the very day on which M. d'Escorval came to ask an explanation from his friend. She saw him come; then, after a little, Martial made his appearance. She had not been mistaken now she could go home satisfied. But no. She resolved to count the seconds which Martial passed with Marie-Anne. M. d'Escorval did not remain long; she saw Martial hasten out after him, and speak to him.
"But this is absurd!" exclaimed M. d'Escorval. "People can scarcely earn their daily bread in this way." "You are wrong, Monsieur. I have considered the subject carefully; the profits are thirty per cent. And if besides, there will be three of us to sell goods, for I shall confide one pack to my son, and another to Chanlouineau." "What! Chanlouineau?" "He has become my partner in the enterprise."
Alas! it must be confessed that Lacheneur had not hesitated to utter the grossest falsehoods in his anxiety to gain followers. Mme. d'Escorval could not be deceived by these ridiculous stories, but she could believe, and she did believe that the baron was the prime mover in this insurrection. And this belief, which would have carried consternation to the hearts of so many women, reassured her.
A close observer could have read his anxiety and his terror in his eyes, which wandered restlessly about the room. And there was a very appreciable terror in his voice when, with hand uplifted, he swore to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. "What do you know regarding the prisoner d'Escorval?" demanded the duke.
They unfurled the tri-color, that much regretted flag that reminded them of so much glory, and so many great misfortunes; the drums began to beat, and with shouts of: "Vive Napoleon II.!" the whole column took up its line of march. Pale, with clothing in disorder, and voices husky with fatigue and emotion, M. d'Escorval and the abbe followed the rebels, imploring them to listen to reason.
"That is true," murmured some of the older men; "a visit to Monsieur d'Escorval would, perhaps, do us more harm than good. And, besides, what advice could he give us?" Chanlouineau had forgotten all prudence. "What of that?" he exclaimed. "If Monsieur d'Escorval has no counsel to give us about this matter, he can, perhaps, teach us how to resist and to defend ourselves."
I have promised I have sworn. I am second in command." His voice was sad, but it was determined. "My son!" exclaimed M. d'Escorval; "unfortunate child! it is to certain death that you are marching to certain death." "All the more reason that I should not break my word, father." "And your mother, Maurice, the mother whom you forget!" A tear glistened in the young man's eye.
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