“No, monsieur; he went early this morning to Havre;” so saying she retired.
Monsieur Gramont stood facing the portrait of the late Duke de Coulancourt with a thoughtful and serious expression on his features; he was not at all repenting the injustice he contemplated, far from it; but he was thinking, at the moment, that it was very possible that France might return at no distant time to a monarchical form of government; and if so, would it not be possible to gain the defunct title as well as the estate? Monsieur Gramont was fond of “castle building;” it is very pleasant at times, but, unfortunately, we are apt to be recalled rather suddenly and disagreeably to this dull earth and its sad realities. Monsieur Gramont was startled out of his day dreams by the entrance of Madame Coulancourt.
Now that it was come to the point to carry out his intended project, he felt somewhat embarrassed; there was a conscious dignity, a stately and impressive loftiness of character visible in every word and movement of the ex-Duchesse de Coulancourt that had its effect upon him, and after the first formal words had passed and both were seated, it all at once struck the Maire, as he looked into the still beautiful and calm features of Madame Coulancourt, that what he had to say was by no means so easily said as he had imagined. However, it was necessary to make a beginning, so after a little pause of embarrassment on the part of Monsieur Gramont, he said—
“A very unpleasant duty, madame, has fallen to my lot to execute.”
“Then, monsieur,” said Madame, “the sooner an unpleasant duty is brought to a close the better; therefore pray do not hesitate, for suspense is oftentimes more trying than the reality.”
“True, madame, so it is,” returned Bertram Gramont; “I perfectly agree with you. You came, madame, to this château with a Mademoiselle de Tourville; her brother had been residing here before your arrival; indeed, I met that gentleman myself. It has reached the ears of Monsieur Fouché, the Minister of Police, that this Mademoiselle de Tourville is your own daughter, and that the person who represented her brother is an English naval officer.”
Monsieur le Maire looked up into madame’s countenance, but though pale, there was no alteration in its expression.
“Well, Monsieur Gramont,” said Madame Coulancourt, “what is the consequence of this discovery of yours or Monsieur Fouché’s?”
“It was my discovery, madame,” said Monsieur Gramont, a little roused; “it was my bounden duty to have made it. However, as you request to know what may be the consequences, I must inform you that I have received an official order to arrest you and your daughter, and to send you both under escort to Paris, to answer to the charge of harbouring the enemies of the Republic in your château, knowing them to be such. These, madame, are my instructions,” taking, as he spoke, from his pocket-book a parchment, with a portentous looking seal on it, and the signature of Fouché, the future Duke of Oranto, affixed to it.
“I do not mean to doubt or dispute your instructions, Monsieur Gramont,” replied Madame Coulancourt, with but a slight agitation of manner, “and will reserve anything I may have to say till confronted with my accusers.”