CHAPTER XIV.
The house in which Edward Langdale found himself on waking the nextmorning was evidently one of those belonging to what they call in Francethe _cultivateurs proprietaires_, and in the Marais the _cabaniers_, orfarmers possessing the freehold of the land they till. He had beenplaced in a little room not larger than the abbey cell; but his bed hadbeen most comfortable, and he might have slept late had not the youthwhom they had found in the boat the night before, and who was a son ofthe good dame of the house, come in to ask how he had rested and toinvite him to go to the farther side of the farm to shoot some ducks forbreakfast. Edward did not neglect the opportunity, thinking that hemight obtain some important information by the way; but the youth,though perfectly and even profusely communicative, could tell him littleof any thing beyond the precincts of the _Marais_, because he knewlittle. They had heard, he said, from his cousin George, the nightbefore, that at some hour in that night a young gentleman and lady whohad run away to get married would come to their house for shelter andprotection, which he bespoke for them particularly; and the good soldierhad added many an injunction to secrecy and discretion. He had alsoasked that a boat might be sent with their neighbor Bonnet to the abbeywharf, with directions to take off the young gentleman and lady withoutsaying a word.
This was the amount of young Brin's foreign intelligence,--for such tohim it was; and as soon as it was given he proceeded to describe andeulogize his mother's farm, which he had not quitted more than two orthree times in his life, and which he seemed to think both the richestand most beautiful spot of earth. Rich indeed it was; but to explain itssort of riches I must have recourse to that old author whom I havealready quoted. I must premise, however, that the spot on which EdwardLangdale now found himself was just at the edge of what are called thedried marshes, where they join on to the _marais mouillans_, which, atthe time I write of, were much more extensive than at present. The farm,then, of La Caponniere comprised a portion of both; and, as the _maraisdesseches_ have been already described from the account of aneye-witness, I may be permitted a word or two from the same source inregard to the _marais mouillans_. "All these marshes," says my author,"are not equally inundated; and, in consequence, all parts are notequally sterile. The highest parts [of the _marais mouillans_] are underwater from the middle of October to the middle of June, and sometimeslater. The lower parts never dry; and, to make something of them, theyhave been cut by innumerable canals, all communicating, and onlyseparated from each other by earth-banks of from twelve to fifteen feetin width, piled up from the excavated earth of the canals. Theseearth-banks are of prodigious fertility, many of them planted withwillows, ashes, poplars, and sometimes oaks; so that one is oftenastonished to see so vigorous a forest springing out of the middle ofthe waters."
The traveller then goes on to tell the uses these forests are putto,--how the fagots are sent to Rochelle and the Isle de Rhe, and howthe trunks of the trees, cut into firewood and called _cosses demarais_, are highly valued throughout the whole of the neighboringcountry, and burn better than any other trees. But, as the reader willprobably never dabble in the cultivation of the marshes of Bretagne, heshall be spared the details. My author, however, goes on to state thatthe farms vary in extent from two hundred and forty to twelve hundredacres, and that each is divided by little canals into squares of aboutthirty acres, each canal being large enough to carry a small boat.
Now fancy, dear reader, what an interminable network ofwater-communication these canals, each hidden from the other by treesand shrubs, must form; how impossible for any but one born and bred inthe country to find one's way along there; how easy for any oneacquainted with their involutions to baffle the most skilful pursuer, tolie hid from the eyes of the most clear-sighted enemy. The Minotaur didnot feel himself more safe in the depths of the Cretan labyrinth thanEdward Langdale after their morning's row; and Edward was more safe thanthe Minotaur.
"Here," he thought, "we may stay till all pursuit is ended and allsuspicions forgotten, till dear Lucette has recovered strength,--and,perhaps, till I can communicate with Mauze or Rochelle."
All very well as a matter of probability; but where any thing is joinedtogether by mere tacks--as is indeed the case with the fate of everyone,--and not alone with his fate for years or months, but for a singlehour--it is much better to remember, before we make any calculation atall, what tacks may fall out or get broken and the whole piece ofmachinery tumble to atoms.
Edward Langdale could shoot a duck; and, though the birding-piece whichthe young farmer trusted to his hands was a single barrelled gun ofrather primitive construction, and the shot merely bits of lead cutsmall, not a bird got away from him,--more to the admiration than theliking of his companion, who had fancied that he could display someskill in the eyes of one whom he believed to be city bred.
However, the boat was plentifully loaded before they returned; and theyoung farmer guided it back by a different course from the _maraismouillans_ to the firm land near the house, pointing out to Edward, withan air of pride and satisfaction, six or seven woolly beasts upon atongue of the _terrier_, and telling him they were sheep.
At their return to the house they found the whole household up, with theexception of Lucette; but the result of their sport was very muchcommended, and one of the hearty breakfasts of the country was prepared.The living, indeed, seemed profuse, and, what though the cooking was forthe land somewhat coarse, yet it was French, and therefore better thanit would have been anywhere else in the same circumstances. There wereducks, and good bacon, and eggs, and fine fowls, and a ragout, andplenty of galette. Alas! there was no coffee, no chocolate,--nay, notea; but there was excellent white wine of Loge, and there was as goodred wine of Fay Moreau; for the age of hot stops had not yet arrived,and Noah's discovery blessed the land within ten leagues of them.
Lucette joined them before they sat down; and, for some reason, sheblushed more at her boy's dress when there were women round her than shehad done before; but her cheek soon became pale, and Edward thought,with some alarm, she did not look well. She assured him, however, thatshe merely suffered from fatigue.
The meal was not concluded when several of the peasantry from theneighboring country came to La Caponniere in their boats, bearing withthem tidings of the fire of the preceding night, and of various otherserious accidents which had occurred during the great storm. Numberlesstrees had been struck and two men killed by the lightning; but the factsof most interest--at least to Edward and Lucette--were those connectedwith the destruction of the abbey. One of the visitors had come thatmorning from Moreilles, and of course was the oracle of the occasion.Two-thirds of the great tower had fallen, he said, crushing thedormitory and the southern cloisters. The whole church was seriouslyinjured, the Lady chapel being the only part preserved; and, althoughthe monks themselves with one exception had escaped unhurt, it wasgenerally rumored, the good man said, that some five or sixpersons--either guests, or people who came to assist--had been crushedunder the part of the tower which first fell. Who they were the peasantcould not tell; but the mention of the sad fact set both Lucette andEdward upon the track of imagination. It was then for the first timethat Edward perceived that Pierrot la Grange had not been at thebreakfast-table. On inquiring for him, Master Ned was answered by goodMadame Brin's son that his servant had gone with the man who had rowedthem the night before, to inquire about the fire,--a very imprudent actas it seemed to Edward; and yet he had a good deal of confidence inPierrot's tact,--which was not ill placed. About twelve, his long figureappeared in the kitchen; and now the whole details were given. They wereinteresting to the good Cabanier family, for the principal new fact wasthat Monsieur George Brin, their relative, was safe and well, and hadset out for the lines under Mauze. The other soldiers, he said, hadperished, with the exception of one, who still lived, terribly mangled.He was so drunk when he left the parlor, Pierrot said, that he could notget to the assigned sleeping-place, but fell upon the stairs, where hestill lay when the tower was struck. T
hus, though sadly beaten bydetached stones, he had escaped crushing by the great mass of masonry.
Lucette felt very sorry for the poor soldiers; for hers was a verykindly and tender heart. Edward gave them a passing "Poor fellows!" andat his heart wished he had not made them so drunk. But still, as a man'smind is always a more business sort of article than a woman's, he arguedfrom the premises that all chances of further pursuit and detention wereat an end; and thus, though the troopers were to be pitied, theirremoval from this scene of care was no misfortune to him.
Now, all this shows, or may be supposed to show, that Master Ned was notof a very sensitive or sentimental disposition. In truth, dear reader,it only shows that he had mingled a good deal more with the world thanmost lads of his age, and that time and storms had hardened the outershell. There was much that was soft within,--not about the head, but atthe heart. That very night proved it; for Lucette, after having beensomewhat languid all day, was suddenly seized about seven o'clock with aviolent fit of shivering, and Edward had to behold the marsh-fever inall its horrors. Good old Madame Brin took upon herself to be physician:indeed, there was no other within thirty miles, except the barber atFontenay le Comte; and he could not be got at. The eldest daughter wasto be head nurse; but Lucette had another and a good one. She had nursedEdward through a severe illness, and he was resolved to nurse her inreturn. Happily, they were good, simple people there, and had no falsenotions of proprieties and decorums, so that Edward had his own way; andit was very sweet to poor Lucette to take her tisanes of _ecorce dechene_ and thyme-flowers from his hand, and to gaze into his eyes as hebent over her and drink in a better medicine from his looks than any upto that time discovered,--or since, to say the truth.
Then, again, the household was a cheerful household. Though they livedin the midst of swamps and ponds and canals, like a family of frogs,there was nothing cold or chilly about them. Madame Brin had had thefever twice herself, she said: all her children had had it. She wouldsoon get the dear little girl well; and a shake or two they thoughtnothing of in their country. Her poor dead husband had had hundreds ofthem, and died, drowned, at sixty and upward. The eldest girl and theyoung one, too, were also all kind cheerfulness; and Edward, who wascertainly the most melancholy and apprehensive of the party, took careto hide that such was the case whenever he was in Lucette's room. Whenhe was unwillingly away, his thoughts were very heavy; for, though itmust be confessed they rested principally on his fair young companion,yet they would often turn to other subjects of care. Leave her amongstperfect strangers he could not,--he would not; but when he consideredthat he had lost valuable letters, much money, much time still morevaluable, and asked himself whether he should still find Lord Montagu atthe place of rendezvous, where he should find him, what secrets mightnot have been revealed to the enemy by his losses, how much he himselfmight be compromised and his passage through France endangered by thediscoveries which probably had been made, there appeared a verytolerable bundle of cares for one young pair of shoulders to carry.
Nevertheless, good nursing, and that skill which is given by experience,did their usual services to poor Lucette. The fits of fever wereretarded, lessened, ceased; and at the end of a fortnight she could sitat the door in the sunshine and look out. Often would she now gaze up atEdward; and at length she summoned courage to ask, in English, "Is itnot time we should go forward?"
It did require a great effort of courage to put that question, for, whatbetween weakness and some other sensations, Lucette had got into a frameof mind which would have made it even pleasant for her to remain therein the Marais all her life,--if Edward Langdale had remained with her.
There is always a good effect produced by looking difficulties andunpleasant things of all sorts in the face. We either discover some modeof getting rid of them, or else we learn to endure them. Very soonEdward and Lucette talked composedly over their future plans; and bothagreed, with a sigh, that to proceed upon their journey as soon as shehad recovered sufficient strength was unavoidable. They might both,perchance, have dreamed, and their dreams might have been somewhat wild;but with calm thought the sense of serious reality returned, and theyfelt that they must soon proceed together to part very soon.
"And when shall we meet again, Edward?" said Lucette, in a low voice.
Edward laid his hand upon hers, saying, sadly, "God only knows, Lucette.But I know and am sure we shall meet again. Till then, let us never partin heart. We cannot forget each other after all that has passed; and,oh, let the memory be as dear to you as it is to me, so that, when we domeet, it may be with the same feelings we now experience."
Lucette bent down her eyes, and there was a tear in them; but that tearseemed to Edward Langdale a promise.
This was the only word of love that passed between them; but there wereother matters pressing for consideration. Neither of them knew thecountry round. Pierrot was as ignorant as themselves; and it wasnecessary to take Madame Brin not only into consultation but in somedegree into their confidence. She was naturally a woman of strong sense;but she was wonderfully ignorant of the world beyond the Marais.
"This is a mad scheme," she said,--taking for granted all that she hadheard from her cousin George, and never imagining that a corporal in theking's army could have been deceived. "You are both very young to runaway and be married. Why, this boy can hardly be nineteen, and you, mychild, cannot be more than fifteen; but, now you have been away so longtogether, it is the best thing for you. We can send for the ministerto-morrow, and he can be here on Friday. But if you be Papists you willfind the matter more difficult; for----"
Edward cut her short by informing her of the fact that they were bothHuguenots, and at the same time attempting to undeceive her as to thepurposes with which they left Rochelle. He told her briefly theprincipal events of the last month, and besought her to aid them inreaching at least Niort, where the number of Protestants still remaininginsured them the means of ascertaining where the principal Huguenotleaders were to be found.
All this sudden intelligence threw the good lady into a deep fit ofthought. "So you do not want to be married?" she said, in somebewilderment.
"Not immediately," answered Edward, with a smile he could not repress."But I tell you, my dear lady, I do wish to be married to Lucette assoon as ever she wishes to be married to me." Lucette looked at himalmost reproachfully; but he went on to say, "Her relations have ofcourse to be consulted first; and, as I undertook to escort her safelyto them, I must do so before I can even pretend to her hand."
"Well, then," said the mistress of La Caponniere, after several minutes'thought, "there is no way for you but to go boldly to Nantes. They willnever suspect you there. 'Those who are nearest to the cardinal aresafer from him than those who are far off,' they say. His arms are solong that they do not easily reach what is close by. You can then easilygo round to Niort, and thence where you like; but go to Nantes first; goto Nantes first. It is the safest place."
This suggestion required long and much consideration; but at length itwas adopted, though the minor arrangements afterward devised removed agreat many of the objections which at first presented themselves. Edwardwas to be transformed into a young farmer of the Marais, and Lucette toappear as his sister, while Pierrot assumed the garb of one of thepeasants. It took two days to procure the long-waisted, square-cut coat,and wide breeches for Master Ned, and a similar but coarser dress forPierrot; for tailors were not plenty in the Marais, and clothing-shopswere none,--so that the wardrobes of neighbors were to be ransacked.Lucette was more easily supplied with the manifold petticoats and thewhite cap to cover her immense luxuriance of hair. Changes of apparel,provisions of many kinds, and good wine, were stored in a boat; and,after about three weeks' residence in that wild and strange but notuninteresting district, with two stout boatmen for their guides, Lucetteand her companions took their departure from La Caponniere, and enteredupon a tract perhaps even more desolate and intricate than that whichthey quitted. By Tallemont, by La Motte Achard, and by Loge, the
yproceeded on the _country-road_, as it was called, toward Nantes, and atthe end of the third day they began to approach a city the glory ofwhich certainly has departed, but the interest of which--a melancholyinterest--remains.
Before I close the chapter, however,--a chapter devoted to quiet if notdull subjects,--I may as well say a few words--a very few--upon theactual state of France, and the changes which had taken place within thelast five weeks, which were not without their significance.
Every day had seen La Rochelle more and more closely hemmed in by theroyal forces. Slowly, quietly, but steadily, troops had poured into theSevres and the Aunis, and the ports in the neighborhood of thethreatened city had become crowded with small armed vessels. Invested byland, the citizens of Rochelle might have felt alarm if their fine porthad been also subjected to blockade; but their own powerful fleets, andthe certain aid of England, made them contemn the small though numerousships of the enemy, and they never comprehended, till too late, that thegigantic mind of their enemy was then planning a vast undertakingdestined to deprive them of all the advantages of their position. Theiregregious confidence was perhaps further increased by a knowledge thatthe court of France, and, indeed, the whole country, was fermenting withplots against the man whom they had most to dread; and it is not at allimpossible that they were more or less aware that the most formidableconspiracy which had ever threatened the power of Richelieu was upon thevery eve of explosion.
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