“Yes, Monsieur Julian; I do. There is a very suspicious person residing in his château—a most repulsive-looking man, I am told—and I know very well that Monsieur Gramont’s bland manner and specious speeches are not to be depended on.”
“I always said so,” exclaimed Mabel, her eyes sparkling; “I detest that man.”
“What have you been about at Havre, Jean?” inquired Madame Coulancourt.
“Suspecting something might occur that no one could foresee, I wrote to Monsieur Barras, telling him that, for certain reasons, madame wished to return to Paris, with Mademoiselle de Tourville, and I requested him to send me a written order, signed by Fouché, that she and her party should be permitted to proceed to Paris in whatever way she pleased. I received an answer to this effect:—‘Madame Coulancourt shall have a protection, signed by Fouché and myself, so that no person will dare, after seeing that order, to molest her or the persons with her; but money is scarce, and, between ourselves, Fouché requires his pen to be gilded—send an order for twenty thousand francs, and you will have the safe conduct back by your messenger.’”
“What a despicable character!” cried Julian, indignantly, “for a ruler of France.”
“True,” returned Jean Plessis; “but at this moment, if Barras was not one of the three directors, it might be embarrassing to your mother. I did not consult you, madame,” continued Jean Plessis, looking at the ex-Duchess.
“There was no need, my kind friend,” replied Madame Coulancourt; “you sent the money, of course?”
“I sent an order, madame, for the sum, by a trusty messenger, yesterday; and now I will unfold to you my plans, which may readily be combined with those of Monsieur Thornton. With a passport signed by Barras and Fouché, no one dares obstruct us. I have engaged the captain of a fast-sailing chasse-mare—he is a smuggler, I confess, but that does not matter—who is apparently to take us to Rouen. We shall sail in the day as if for Rouen, and when some miles up the river, he will come to an anchor. In the night, he will up anchor, and drop down with the tide, and put to sea; and if this English vessel of war is the one Monsieur Thornton expects, the smuggler will place us all on board; if not, he engages to land us safely on the coast of England.”
“This is an admirable idea,” said Julian; “but how shall we manage—that is, Lieutenant Thornton and myself?”
“That is easily arranged. You will go on to a place I will fix upon, before us; and there we will pick you up. As Philip de Tourville, your cousin will, of course, be included in the passport.”