A week later, after having bidden good-by to his friends in Versailles and Paris and having obtained a passport from Lafayette at the Hôtel de Ville, he set out for London, from which capital he did not return until the middle of September.
CHAPTER XIV
MR. CALVERT RIDES DOWN INTO TOURAINE
August was a dreary month in Paris. With the last days of July the heat became intense, and that, with the constant alarms and ever recurring outbreaks, caused such an exodus from the city as soon made Paris a deserted place. Mr. Morris's departure was followed shortly by that of the old Duchesse d'Azay and Madame de St. André, who went down to Azay-le-Roi, so that in Calvert's estimation the gayest capital in the world was but a lonely, uninteresting city. Toward the close of August Mr. Jefferson received from Congress that permission to return home which he had solicited for so long, and, without loss of time, he prepared to leave France for, as he supposed, an absence of a few months, at most. Among the multitude of public and private affairs to be arranged before his departure, his friends were not forgotten, and he made many farewell visits to Versailles, Marly-le-Roi, and St. Germain. He had not thought it possible, however, to see his friends at Azay-le-Roi, but the middle of September found his affairs so nearly settled, and, his passage not being taken until the 26th of the month, he one day proposed to Calvert that they should make the journey into Touraine.
"Tis the most beautiful part of France," he said to the young man, "and I have a fancy to show you the country for the first time and to say farewell to our friends, Madame d'Azay and Madame de St. André."
To this proposition the young man assented, suddenly determining that he would see Adrienne and put his fortune to the touch. 'Twas intolerable to remain longer in such a state of uncertainty and feverish unhappiness, he decided. Any fate—the cruellest—would be preferable to the doubt which he suffered. And surely he was right, and uncertainty the greatest suffering the heart can know.
"At the worst she can hurt me no more cruelly than she has already," he said to himself. "She shall know that I love her, even though that means I shall never see her again."
His determination once taken, he was as eager as possible to be off, and, by the 16th, all was in readiness for their departure. Passports were obtained from Lafayette and places reserved in the public diligence. They took only one servant with them—the man Bertrand, whom Galvert had been at pains to ferret out and take into his employ, thinking to prevent him from mingling again with the ruffians and cutthroats of the Palais Royal and faubourgs. Such was the fellow's devotion to Calvert that he abandoned his revolutionary and bloody comrades and took service joyfully with the young man, delighted to be near and of use to him.
The journey into Touraine was a very short and a very pleasant one to Mr. Jefferson and Calvert. The diligence left Paris by the Ivry gate, stopping for the night at Orléans. The next morning at dawn they were again upon their way and bowling swiftly along the great highway that led down into the valley of the Loire, past Amboise and Blois and Vouvray to the old town of Tours, lying snugly between the Loire and the Cher. They came into the rue Royale just as the sun was flinging a splendor over everything—on the gray cathedral spires and the square tower of Charlemagne and the gloomy Tour de Guise, and as they crossed the great stone bridge to the old quarter of St. Symphorien, the Loire flowed away beneath them like some fabled stream of molten gold.
The diligence put them down at La Boule d'Or, a clean and well-kept inn, overlooking the river and from the windows of which could be seen the white façade of the Hôtel de Ville and the numberless towers rising here and there above the old town. After a night of refreshing sleep to Mr. Jefferson, but one full of misgivings and broken dreams to Calvert, the two gentlemen set forth in the morning on horseback, followed shortly after by Bertrand with light baggage, for Mr. Jefferson's affairs would not permit him to remain more than twenty-four hours at Azay-le-Roi. They rode slowly, at first, through the early sweetness of that September morning, scarcely disturbing the fine, white dust upon the broad road. The level land stretched away before them like some tranquil, inland sea, and against the horizon tall, stately poplars showed like the slender masts of ships against the blue of sky and ocean.