When they left the house, M. Guibourg headed the procession with a legal magistrate and another public functionary; then came Mlle. de Kersabiec with the préfet and Comte d'Erlon; General Dermoncourt followed them immediately with the duchess and M. de Ménars, and behind them came several staff officers. When they reached the street the préfet suggested that the colonel of the National Guard should offer his arm to the duchess. She consented quite graciously. The troops of the line and National Guards formed a hedge from the house of the Demoiselles Duguigny as far as the château, and, behind them, as much as space permitted, in lines ten times thicker than that of the soldiers, the population crowded round. Among the men watching the duchess pass by were some with eyes blazing with hatred from old memories; so muffled murmurs rolled along the route and soon even shouts rent the air, but General Dermoncourt stopped and, flashing his dark eyes around, growled rather than spoke the words—
"Come now, where is the respect due to prisoners, specially when they are women?"
They were silent. All the same it was a good thing there was only sixty yards between the house of the ladies Duguigny and the château, and, indeed, that distance would have been too long without the respectful attentions with which the generals had surrounded the duchess. Their deference commanded the silence of the multitude that had been buffeted about by the civil war which for six months had been muttering round the vicinity of Nantes, ruining its trade and mowing down its inhabitants. Finally, the château was reached, the drawbridge crossed and the gate shut upon the procession. Madame had shown no sign of fear during the journey beyond pressing the general's arm more tightly. After crossing the court of the château, they went up the stairs, but the duchess was so weak from all the emotion she had just gone through that Dermoncourt felt her bend over and press his arm with all her weight. At last she reached the room intended for her, which the colonel of artillery, the governor of the castle, hastened to offer her. There, feeling better, she told the general she could eat something. As a matter of fact, having been disturbed just as she was going to sit down to the table, she had not eaten anything for nearly thirty hours. As no orders had been given for breakfast, and it would have kept her too long till it was prepared, the colonel suggested to Madame a glass of frontignan and some biscuits, which she accepted. But Madame ate very little then on account of a tertian fever which had attacked her regularly during the last two or three weeks. Breakfast was not ready for three-quarters of an hour; when it was announced, General Dermoncourt offered his arm to the duchess to take her to the dining-room. As she sat at the table, she turned smilingly to her cavalier.
"General," she said, "if I were not afraid it would be said that I was trying to beguile you I would suggest you should share my repast."
"And I, Madame," replied the general, "if I dared, would willingly accept, for I have not had anything since eleven yesterday morning."
"Oh, oh! general," said the duchess laughing, "then we are quits."
The préfet came in whilst they were at table. He, too, was as hungry as Madame and Dermoncourt, but the duchess took good care not to invite M. Maurice Duval to sit down with her. The préfet soon went away straight to a sideboard where they had just brought the partridges cleared away from the duchess's table, called for a knife and fork and began to eat, turning his back on the princess. Madame looked at him, then turned her eyes to the general—
"General," she said, "do you know what I regret most in my present situation?"
"No, Madame."
"Two sheriffs to call that gentleman to account."