“You have had a smash, Dame Moret,” said one of the men.
“Yes, misfortunes will happen, Monsieur François Perrin,” said the dame; “what has brought you to Caux to-day—anything new?”
“No, dame, only my customary visit, you know, to the château. Monsieur Plessis and family are arrived, and he has a friend with him, we understand, a Monsieur de Tourville. Monsieur de Gramont, you have heard, I dare say, is appointed maire of this arrondissement, having quitted the army.”
“Eh, he is young,” said the dame, “to leave the army, and our country in want of soldiers. He is married, I suppose; but will you take a glass of my wine or brandy, eh, Monsieur Perrin?”
“Mon Dieu! avec plasir, dame; you have always a kind heart and a good bottle of wine for a friend.” And the two men sat down at a table, but Sergeant Perrin kept eyeing Julian Arden, who had lit his pipe, and was sauntering out to the yard.
“Pardon me, young man,” said the Sergeant, “are you one of the crew of Captain Gaudet’s craft, the Vengeance?”
“No, monsieur, I am not; though I think I shall join him.”
Dame Moret looked very uneasy, but she did not let the gendarmes see that she was so. She placed a couple of bottles of wine, and glasses, some nice oaten cake, and a jar of preserves, on the table.
“Cà, this is a luxury, dame,” said the Sergeant, but, turning to Julian, he said, “Where do you come from, young man, and what is your name? You are a stranger to me.”
“My name is Louis Lebeau,” said Julian, coolly; “I am going to Rouen in a few days, after I have settled with Captain Pierre Gaudet.”