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She had uttered nothing but evil bodings to him on the day when he first went to Durbelliere; and when he returned from Saumur, chief General of all the forces of then victorious La Vendee, she had refused to participate in the glories which awaited him in his native town.
Durbelliere had not been in his parish, but he had always been peculiarly intimate with the family of the Larochejaquelins, and had warmly welcomed the return of Henri to the Bocage, at a time when so many of the nobility were leaving the country.
Farming was their business the chase their amusement loyalty their strongest passion, and the prosperity of their tenantry their chief ambition. The chateau of Durbelliere was a large square building, three stories high, with seven front windows to each of the upper stories, and three on each side of the large door on the ground floor.
"Good bye," said poor Annot, putting out her hand to her lover, and sobbing violently. "Good bye; I'm sure I never thought it would come to this. I'm sure I gave up everybody and everything for your sake." "Well; and didn't I give up everybody, too. Haven't I come all the way over here week after week, when people wondered what made me leave Durbelliere so much; and wasn't it all for love of you?
Henri, de Lescure, and the little Chevalier, all came over to spend the last day at Durbelliere, and a melancholy day it was.
Adolphe was always particular in his dress, but he now exceeded himself; and he appeared to be the more singular in this respect at Durbelliere just at present, as the whole of the party except himself women included, had forgotten or laid aside, as unimportant, the usual cares of the toilet. "You, at any rate, go in good company, Adolphe," said Agatha, attempting to smile.
Marie de Lescure, the sister of Henri's friend, was staying at Durbelliere with Agatha Larochejaquelin; and her visit, which had been prolonged from before Christmas, had certainly not been made less agreeable by the fact of Henri's having been at home the whole time. She and Agatha were both pretty, but they were very different.
On the Sunday morning, after Henri's return to Durbelliere, Jacques Chapeau, with Jean and Peter Stein, left the chateau very early, and started for Echanbroignes.
His figure and appearance had always been singular, but now it was more so than ever. He had been sleeping in his clothes, and he had that peculiar look of discomfort which always accompanies such rest. His black, elfish, uncombed locks, had not been cut since he left Durbelliere, and his beard for many days had not been shorn.
"Never fear, Chapeau. You shall have Momont's ears all to yourself; but what is it you do want?" "Why, nothing myself exactly, M. Henri; but there are two men from Echanbroignes here, who wish you to allow them to go on to Durbelliere, and stay a day or two there: they are two of our men, M. Henri; two of the red scarfs." "Two of the red scarfs!" said Henri.
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