Robert Tournay Part 20

CHAPTER X

OVER THE FRONTIER

In the carriage Agatha related to her mistress what had occurred after her disappearance from La Haye. How she had sent Pere Louchet with the message to Gaillard at Paris, and then had followed on to Tours and discovered where her mistress was imprisoned. Tournay and Gaillard, coming post haste to Tours, had reached there on the same day that saw the transfer of Mademoiselle de Rochefort to the prison-s.h.i.+p upon the Loire. Together with Agatha, they had formulated a plan of rescue and put it into immediate execution.

The two men had approached the vessel in a small skiff on the river, while Agatha had awaited them in a carriage on the other side. The moving of the prison s.h.i.+p down the river might have disconcerted their plans had not the watchful Agatha seen the movement, and following along the sh.o.r.e reached them when they had almost succ.u.mbed from the exposure and cold.

The carriage was a commodious one and well equipped for the long journey, and in a few minutes Agatha had her mistress in a change of warm clothing. As soon as Edme was able, she bade Agatha call Tournay to the carriage door.

"Thanks are a small return for what you have done," she said as he rode by her side, "yet they are all I have to give." Then she stretched her hand out to him with an impulsive gesture,--"Robert Tournay, I misjudged you when you were last at La Thierry. Will you forgive it?"

It was the first time she had spoken to him as one addresses an equal, and it moved him greatly. He leaned forward and took the hand she gave him, looking down at her with a smile that lit up his face, as he said:--

"Mademoiselle, I forgave the words you spoke as soon as they were uttered. It is happiness enough to know that I have saved you." Before he released it, he thought he felt the hand in his tremble a little.

The remembrance flashed through her mind, how, years before, she had once noticed Tournay's manly bearing as he rode into the chateau-court upon a spirited horse. She had at that time thought him handsome, with an air about him superior to his station, and then had dismissed him from her thoughts. As he rode before her now, the water still dripping from his clothing, hatless, with damp locks clinging to his forehead, she thought she had never looked upon a n.o.bler figure among all the gentlemen who in the old days frequented the chateau of the baron, her father.

"Where are we going?" she asked, with more emotion than such a simple question warranted.

"To the German frontier," was the reply. "We must travel rapidly night and day. I shall hardly dare to stop for rest until you are safely over the border."

"I leave myself in your charge," she said, leaning back in the carriage.

He gave a word of command and the coach rushed forward through the night.

Tournay's words had recalled vividly to Edme her unhappy situation.

Although innocent of all crime, she was proscribed and forced to fly from her own country to take refuge among those who were invading it.

And the man who rode by the side of her carriage, and had undertaken to convey her in safety across the border, was a soldier, fighting for the government that persecuted her. Laying her head upon Agatha's shoulder she felt her heart swell with bitterness. For hours, during which Agatha imagined that she slept, she watched in silence through the window the dark outlines of the swiftly moving landscape. Finally long after Agatha's regular breathing announced her slumber, Edme, worn out by the excitement and fatigue, leaned back in the opposite corner and slept like a tired child.

For five days the coach rolled toward the frontier, Tournay and Gaillard riding on horseback.

Through Blois, Orleans, Arcis sur-Aube to Bar-le-Duc and on toward Metz they went, stopping only to exchange their worn-out horses for fresh ones, and for such few hours of rest as were absolutely indispensable.

During all the journey, Tournay saw little of Mademoiselle de Rochefort, although her comfort and her safety were his constant care. The pa.s.sport with which he was provided prevented all delay; and it was thought best that mademoiselle should remain as secluded in the carriage as possible. When she did step out for a breath of air or a few hours'

rest at some inn she always wore a veil to hide her features. Whenever he approached her to inform her as to the route they traveled he always did so with the greatest deference, showing marked solicitude for her health and comfort; expressing deep regret that the nature of their journey rendered the great speed imperative.

One afternoon as they crossed the little stream of the Sarre, Tournay, who had been riding some fifty yards in advance, drew rein and waited for the carriage to come up to him.

"In an hour, mademoiselle," he said, as in obedience to his signal the vehicle drew up by the roadside, "we shall be across the frontier, and in Germany. At Hagenhof resides the Baron von Waldenmeer, who I think is known to you as your father's friend."

"He was one of my father's friends," Mademoiselle Edme acquiesced.

"I remember having often heard his name mentioned at La Thierry," said Tournay. "So I took this direction rather than further south, which would have been somewhat shorter. A few hours will bring us to Hagenhof, where you will be able to put yourself under the baron's protection."

"And you?" inquired Edme, "what are you going to do?"

"I shall return to France."

The armies of Prussia and Austria, three hundred thousand strong, were drawing in on France, to help to crush out the Republic and restore the old regime.

The Baron von Waldenmeer's division was already on the frontier, quartered at Falzenberg--waiting for other troops to come up before joining the Austrian army at Wissembourg, near which the French had concentrated a large force.

On a cold December afternoon two batteries of Prussian heavy artillery were proceeding through the wood on the road going east from Inweiler, whence they had been sent to join the main body of troops at Falzenberg.

It was snowing and at five o'clock darkness was already settling down on the woodland road. Over the snow-carpeted leaves the wheels of the gun carriages rolled almost noiselessly.

"Paff," growled Lieutenant Saueraugen, wiping the flakes from his eyelashes for the twentieth time, as he thought of the hot sausages at that moment being devoured in the mess-room at Falzenberg, and ten miles between it and him. "A pest on such weather and such slow progress! at this rate we shall not be at Falzenberg before midnight."

"_Donnerwetter!_ what is this?" he cried with his next breath, as along the road that crossed from the north came a two-horse carriage at a rapid gait. The driver of the vehicle saw the battery on the other road, and tried to check the speed of his horses. The rider on the nigh leader of the caisson whirled his horse to the left, but it received the carriage pole on the right foreleg and went to the ground, dragging its mate with it. Then followed a snorting of frightened animals and a rattling of harness, flavored with the shouts and oaths of the lieutenant and his men as they tried to bring order out of the entanglement.

Two men on horseback rode up from behind the carriage, and with their a.s.sistance the fallen horses were brought to their feet and the broken harness repaired.

"Who the devil are you that tear through these woods like this?"

demanded the German, examining the abrasure on the leader's leg. "Come, give account of yourselves." The two riders had remounted and seemed anxious to be off.

"We are bound for Hagenhof," replied one of them. "We are in a great hurry, and regret this accident, for which we are entirely to blame.

Name the amount which you think a proper compensation for your injured horse and broken harness and we will gladly pay it."

He had spoken in German and in the easy, careless manner of one who deemed the matter too trivial to be the cause of any controversy.

"You are French!" exclaimed the lieutenant, looking at the party closely.

"We are," replied the man who had spoken before.

"You must accompany me to Falzenberg," said the German officer, "and interview the general there."

"What does he say?" inquired the second Frenchman of his companion.

"Come, you had best not chatter your French before me," put in the surly lieutenant, as one of the Frenchmen proceeded to interpret to the other.

"You may be spies for all I know, but that we shall find out when we get to Falzenberg."

The dark eyes of the second Frenchman looked inquiringly at his comrade.

The other again translated the officer's words.

"We are most unfortunate, Gaillard, to have fallen in with this imbecile," was the reply.

"My friend commends your prudence and judgment," repeated the interpreter, his mouth widening and showing his white teeth, "and desires me to tell you that we have important business at Hagenhof. If you will send us there under an escort, we shall be able to prove that we are not spying upon the movement of your troops."

The lieutenant scowled. "Can so few words of your language stand for all that in German?" he demanded.

The Frenchman laughed lightly as he replied, "Our language is very flexible."

"So perhaps may be your necks," said the officer brutally, a suspicion entering his mind that he was being laughed at. "But you must come with me to Falzenberg, and there's an end of it."

"Why not to Hagenhof?" persisted Gaillard with perfect good-humor.

"To Falzenberg!" roared the Prussian officer, swearing roundly, "and before we start, let me see what sort of freight you are carrying along the road." He approached the carriage with the intention of opening the door.