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Updated: May 16, 2025
"Good riddance to Monsieur Savary dit Detricand, and good welcome to the Comte de Tournay," answered Guida, trying hard to humour Carterette, that she should sooner hear the news yet withheld. "And what follows after?" Carterette was half sorry that her great moment had come. She wished she could have linked out the suspense longer.
His brow knitted when he saw that his compatriot had been drinking again, and his eyes had a pained look as he said eagerly: "Have you heard from the Comte de Tournay, monsieur? I have not seen you these days past. You said you would not disappoint me." Detricand drew from his pocket a letter and handed it over, saying: "This comes from the comte."
Without hesitation or a word, Detricand did as he was bid, and the door clanged to behind him. "Fouche's men are coming down the street; spies have betrayed you," whispered Pergot. "Follow me. I will hide you till night, and then you must away." Pergot had spoken the truth.
As she sat and thought, Detricand entered, loaded with parcels and bundles. These were mostly gifts for her father and herself; and for du Champsavoys there was a fine delft shaving-dish, shaped like a quartermoon to fit the neck. They were distributed, and by the time supper was over, it was quite dark.
But in truth what Detricand and the Chevalier had done was but of human pity. The day after the duel, Detricand had arrived in Paris to proceed thence to Bercy. There he heard of Philip's death and of Damour's desertion. Sending officers to Bercy to frustrate any possible designs of Damour, he, with the Chevalier, took Philip's body back to Jersey, delivering it to those who would do it honour.
Detricand read page after page, more often with a smile than not; yet it was the smile of one who knew life and would scarce misunderstand the eccentric and honest soul of the Reverend Lorenzo Dow. Suddenly, however, he started, for he came upon these lines: I have, in great privacy and with halting of spirit, married, this twenty-third of January, Mr.
"De Tournay escaped the day after the Battle of Jersey from the prison hospital, I was left, and here I've been ever since Yves Savary dit Detricand at your service, chevalier." A pained expression crossed over the Chevalier's face. "I am most sorry; I am most sorry," he said hesitatingly. "I had no wish to wound your feelings."
There were others ready also to care for France, to fight for her, to die for her, to struggle towards the hour when the King should come to his own; but there was only one man in the world who could achieve Guida's full justification, and that was himself, Detricand of Vaufontaine. He was glad to turn to the Chevalier's letters from Jersey.
Before replying Detricand glanced round to see that no one was listening. "Look you, monsieur, a man must keep some decencies in his life, or cut his own throat. What a ruffian I'd be to do you or your father harm! I'm silent, of course. Let your mind rest about me. But there's the baker Carcaud " "The baker?" asked Ranulph dumfounded.
There were others ready also to care for France, to fight for her, to die for her, to struggle towards the hour when the King should come to his own; but there was only one man in the world who could achieve Guida's full justification, and that was himself, Detricand of Vaufontaine. He was glad to turn to the Chevalier's letters from Jersey.
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