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Updated: July 10, 2025
He himself was naturally a very jolly sort of fellow, so that his friend, Villemet, could not in the least make out the transformation. In fact, he began to think him un peu timbre. However, at last, he made up his mind to call at the Manor Farm; and one sunny day he appeared at the door, somewhat like a martyr tied to the stake, but without his cheerfulness of resignation.
My wife and I were out at the time, but when we came home she let out all about it." Well might they both look grave. "How long ago did you first hear about this?" "Less than two hours. I started directly. If the girl had only repeated some tittle-tattle I should have taken no notice of course, but as it was, I felt bound to let you know." "Had Mr. Villemet left before you came away?"
It was a favourite rendezvous of the officers on parole, not for the sake of tippling, the chief attraction of such places in these more enlightened days, but because they could get a recherche dinner there, the mother of the highly respectable landlord being a singularly good cook. Villemet knew the place well, and had been often there.
They cantered off, a party of six, all firm in the saddle, and passed the barracks without attracting much attention, as it was dark. The difficulty was to know what road Villemet had taken, but they all agreed they must chance it, and go straight away to Spalding. Thither they galloped as fast as horses' legs could carry them, arriving there soon after midnight.
When Tournier returned to the barracks after his meeting with Cosin, he fell in with his young friend, who has already been alluded to, and whose name was Villemet. "Somebody has been asking after you, Tournier." "Who was he?" but not the slightest curiosity was in the tone of enquiry. "Our bishop." The interest fell lower, if possible. "You mean the chaplain. What does he want?" "To see you."
"Colonel Fontenoy," he said, with the coldness of the grave: "my friend here has something to say to you on my behalf." The colonel began to speak; but Tournier at once silenced him. "I have nothing to say to you, sir," and passed on. Then Villemet proceeded to execute his commission with all frigid politeness and particularity.
And he told him why it was he was so glad he had come: because, if their friend chanced to arouse, it would not excite him so much to see Villemet, as it would to see any one else. "I only wish you could stop all night," he added. "So I can. The major said I might if you wanted me; but I did not like to intrude myself upon you."
"I don't call you a friend," said Villemet, "to put a pistol at my head, and stop me from escaping!" "My dear man," answered one of the party, "none of our pistols are cocked." At this, Villemet made a frantic effort to disengage his hand, but he was overpowered, and both his pistols taken from him.
Nothing could exceed the minute attention which Villemet paid to her, though all in good taste, but with an anxious, if not mournful air, as if he were appointed to watch over her health, and was not quite happy about it. Alice received his attentions with perfect politeness, but her ears were evidently occupied with something else.
Captain Tournier, like the rest, was longing to see once more his old home, but had first to pay a farewell visit to his friends at the Manor House. He was with them only a couple of nights, and Villemet was invited to stay also. The meeting could not be otherwise than mingled with sadness to each of them.
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