In Auray streets, where he had twice fought, and which were full this morning of sunshine and bright air, and of peasants with baskets, leading cows or driving pigs (for it was market-day), La Vireville was looked at with curiosity and pity. Probably, he thought, recognising the fact, because he was a solitary prisoner in the middle of his guards. They were used to batches at a time now in Auray. . . . And, passing once again by the Halles, he met the glance, brimming with a beautiful compassion, of a young countrywoman in a wonderful wide coif, who held a child in her arms. Indifferent though he was to his own fate, Fortuné felt that look like a benediction, and he wished that he could have kissed her hand. All he could do was to smile at the child, who was waving a small delighted arm to the soldiers.
Auray is a little town, and it was not long before the guard halted in front of a house taller than its elder neighbours, having a passionless female head in the Græco-Roman style and a frieze of acanthus leaves above the door. La Vireville particularly noticed them. In the large well-furnished room on the first floor, looking out on to the street, to which he was conducted, was a silver-haired old lady seated in an arm-chair, reading, whom he noticed with even more particularity. It was Mme. de Chaulnes.
He was hardly astonished, in a sense. After all, it was ridiculous to suppose that his escort would have conducted him to anything agreeable. But he could not conceive what she wanted with him.
On their entry Mme. de Chaulnes looked up, closing the book over her finger, for all the world like a woman suffering a trivial interruption which she also intends shall be brief.
"You can remove your men, sergeant," she said calmly. "I have a moment or two's private business with this gentleman, and I do not doubt the security of your knots."
The soldier had presumably no fears on that point either, and in another instant the former antagonists were alone. La Vireville had no difficulty in recalling their last meeting. Now he was a beaten man, wounded and fettered, but he stood before her very composedly, and waited. He had to wait some time, too, while Mme. de Chaulnes studied him. But there was no vulgar triumph visible in her look.
"You are wondering," she said at last, "why I have had you brought here?"
La Vireville assented.
"You are possibly thinking, Monsieur Augustin, that I am about to heap coals of fire on your head by putting the means of escape within your reach, like other charitable ladies of this place?"
"I am sorry if it disappoints you, Madame," returned the captive politely, "but that is the last idea that I should entertain."