Curiosity seized upon Jean Charost, who was by no means without his faults, and, quietly swinging himself from his horse's back, he gave the rein to Martin Grille, saying, in a whisper, "Here, hold my horse. I want to see what these people are about. If you see danger--and you have put the fancy into my head too--you may either bring him up to me, or ride away as fast as you can to the château of Beauté, and tell what has happened."
"I will do both, sir," said Martin Grille, with his head a good deal confused by fear. "That is to say, I will first bring him up to you, and then ride away. But I do see danger now. Hadn't you better get up again?"
Jean Charost walked on with a smile; but, after going some ten or fifteen paces, he slackened his speed, and, with a light step, turned in among the bushes, where there was a little sort of brake between two enormous old beech-trees. Martin Grille watched him as he advanced, and kept sight of him for some moments, while quietly and slowly he took his way forward in the direction of the smoke, which was still very plainly to be seen from the spot where the valet sat. It is not to be denied that Martin's heart beat very fast, and very unpleasantly, as much for his master as for himself perhaps; and certainly, as the dry twigs and bramble stalks made a thicker and a thicker sort of mist round Jean Charost's receding figure, the good man both gave him up for lost, and felt that he had conceived a greater affection for him than he had before imagined. He had a strong inclination, notwithstanding his fears, to get a little nearer, and was debating with himself whether he should do so or not, when all doubt and hesitation was put to an end by a loud shout, and a fierce volley of oaths from the wood. Nature would have her way; Martin Grille turned sharp round, struck his spurs into the horse's sides, and never stopped till he got to the gates of the château.
A party of armed men was instantly collected on his report, with good Monsieur Blaize at their head, without waiting to seek casque or corselet; and compelling Martin Grille, very unwillingly, to go with them, they hurried on in the direction he pointed out, over the hill, and down toward the verge of the wood. They had not reached it, however, when, to the surprise of all, they beheld Jean Charost walking quietly toward them, bearing something in his arms, and, on approaching nearer, they perceived, with greater astonishment than ever, that his burden was a young child, wrapped in somewhat costly swaddling-clothes.
CHAPTER XIV.
Many, eager, and loud were the inquiries of the party who came to the rescue of Jean Charost, regarding his adventures since Martin had left him; but their curiosity was left unsatisfied. All he thought fit to tell them amounted merely to the facts that he had been surrounded and seized, before he was prepared to resist, by a party which appeared to consist of common robbers; that for some time his life had seemed in danger; and that, in the end, his captors, after having emptied his purse, had consented to let him go, on condition that he would carry away the child with him, and promise to take care of it for six years. He had been made to take an oath also, he stated, neither to pursue the party who had captured him, nor to give any description of their persons; and, notwithstanding the arguments of the duke's retainers, and especially of Monsieur Blaize, who sought to persuade him that an oath taken in duress was of no avail, he resolutely kept his word.
The old écuyer; seemed mortified and displeased; but he did not hesitate long as to his own course; and, leaving the young secretary and Martin Grille to find their way back to the château of Beauté as they could, he dashed on into the wood with his companions, swearing that he would bring in the marauders, or know the reason why.
He was disappointed, however. The place where the captors of Jean Charost had been enjoying themselves was easily found by the embers of the fire round which they had sat; but they themselves were gone, leaving nothing but an empty leathern bottle and some broken meat behind them. The tracks of the horses' feet, too, could be traced for some distance; but, after they entered the little road through the wood, they became more indistinct amid other footprints and ruts, and, although Monsieur Blaize and his companions followed them, as they thought, to the village beyond, they could obtain no information from the peasantry. No one would admit that they had seen any one pass but Matthew So-and-so, the farmer; or the priest of the parish, on his mule; or the baillie, on his horse; or some laborers with wagons; and, after a two hours' search, the party of the duke's men returned to the castle, surly and disappointed, and resolved to spare no means of drawing all the particulars from Jean Charost.
In the mean time, the young secretary had returned to the little hamlet which had gathered round the foot of the château of Beauté, making Martin Grille, who was somewhat ashamed of the part he had acted in the morning's adventures, carry the infant in his arms--a task for which he was better fitted than Jean Charost himself; for, to say truth, he made no bad nurse, and one of his many good qualities was a great love for children. At the hamlet, Jean Charost paused, and went into one or two of the cottages inquiring for Angelina Moulinet; but he had to go down quite to the foot of the hill before he found the house of the person of whom he was in search. It was small, but much neater than most of the rest, and, on opening the door, he found a little scene of domestic happiness which pleased the eye. A young husband and wife, apparently tolerably well to do in life, were seated together with two children, the husband busily engaged in carving out a pair of sabots, or wooden shoes, from an old stump of willow, and the wife spinning as fast as she could get her fingers to go. The boy was, of course, teazing a cat; the little girl, still younger, was crawling about upon her hands and knees, and rolling before her a great wooden ball, probably of her father's handiwork. The fire burned bright; every thing about the place was clean and comfortable; and the whole formed a pleasant scene of calm mediocrity and rural happiness, better than all the Arcadias that ever were dreamed of.
The wife rose up when the well-dressed young gentleman entered, and the husband inclined his head without leaving off his operations upon the sabot. But both looked a little surprised when Martin Grille followed his master into the cottage, carrying an infant in his arms, and Angelina Moulinet, with the kindly tact which never abandons a woman, put down her distaff and went to look at the baby, comprehending at once that some strange accident had brought it there, and willing to smooth the way for explanation.