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Updated: June 22, 2025
With Mathilde to attend her, she remained a few days at the chateau, and then removed with her personal possessions to the house of Hugues, whose marriage to Mathilde was no longer delayed. But meanwhile my father and I stayed only a day at Montoire, lodging at the inn there.
In the evening Hugues returned with various acquisitions, among them being a sword for me, and a long rope ladder, both obtained at Troo. We awaited the fall of night, then set out. I upon my horse, Hugues riding one of his and leading the other. We went by obscure lanes, crossed the river, gained the forest, and lingered in its shades till the church clock of Montoire struck eleven.
All I knew of her was that she was probably at Montoire, that she had been associated in some way with Monsieur de Merri, and that she now thought herself in imminent danger. And I had in my possession a piece of her handwriting, which, however, I should have to use very cautiously if at all.
Bloodhounds might soon be on my track. I ran along the edge of the forest, therefore, which covered my movements till I was past the village of St. Outrille, close to Montoire.
"It may be so." The young fellow was now glancing about the kitchen, as if to rid himself of this talk. "Or perhaps he dwells in private lodgings when he is at Montoire," I went on resolutely. "It might well be. There are private lodgings to be had there." "Do you know much of this Monsieur de Merri?" I asked pointblank, in desperation. "I have seen him two or three times." "Where?" "Where?
It appeared that he lived at Orleans, and was used to visit cousins in Brittany: thus, then, had he chanced to stop at Montoire and fall in with the Count de Lavardin. Alas! poor young gentleman! And now we arrived home, to the great relief of my mother; and Blaise Tripault would hardly speak to my father or me, for envy of the adventures we had passed through without him.
I have quoted this somewhat lengthy account because, as we shall see in the sequel, the subterranean dwellings and above all refuges in Europe, bear to this town of King Og of Bashan a marked resemblance. Within four hours of Paris by Chartres and Sarge is the town of Montoire with a clean inn, Le Cheval Rouge, and next station down the Loir is Troo.
When I looked again at the other table, the long-nosed man was gone. It was as if he had simply melted away. "Who was the man sitting there?" I asked the woman of the cabaret. "I don't know, Monsieur. He arrived here this morning. I never saw him before to-day." In the evening I went back to Montoire, no nearer the solution of my problem than before.
To-morrow we shall ride back to Chateaudun, or perhaps on to Bonneval, and then make for La Tournoire by Le Mans and Sablé, which is to give a wide berth to Montoire and the road we have come by. Do you think you can rise, Madame? Nay, wait till I lead the horses out."
But he spread great reports of what I had done, or rather what I had not done, for he made me a chief hero in the destruction of the band of robbers. But this unmerited fame scarcely annoyed me at all, for my thoughts were elsewhere, and I was restless and melancholy. In a few days I resolved to go to Paris, by way of Montoire.
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