Thus she rambled on, with less gayety, and less familiarity, perhaps, than before dinner; but there was a sort of languor about her, a soft sleepiness, which was perhaps more attractive, especially to a young man. One of the greatest charms of that extraordinary woman was her infinite variety. Was it now a desire merely to coquet with a young and handsome lad? Was it only with the purpose of amusing a vacant hour or two? Was it without purpose at all, and that she simply gave way to the passing feelings of the moment and with listless carelessness left the results to chance—I know not; and probably she herself and Edward Langdale were the only persons who ever knew.
Authors will get into difficulties sometimes, dear reader,—will come to sticking-places where they find it as difficult to go back as to wade through. The only way in such circumstances is to take a great jump; and, thank Heaven, the horses we ride are equal to any leap.
The next morning Edward and the duchess and her daughter met at breakfast; and Madame de Chevreuse, if not in great spirits, was cheerful and gay, and full of plans for passing the day pleasantly. She would go and show the young Englishman the grotto and the rocks; they would kill a stag in the adjoining forest; they would visit the curé of Chevreuse, and astonish the good man,—a sport which she by no means disliked: but while they were arranging all these schemes on the open space before the chateau, a courier was seen riding up from the gates, and when he came near he handed the duchess two letters.
The blood left her cheek as she read, and, instantly drawing Edward aside, she said, "We must part at once. You go on as fast as possible to Gray. Wait there two days, and, if you hear no more, ride forward to Turin. As for myself, look here." And she put a paper into his hand. It was a copy of the decree banishing her to Lorraine, there to remain upon her own estates till the king's further pleasure.
"Order your horses quickly," she said. "Then come to my chamber for the sum Montagu left for you. Glimpses of sunshine! glimpses of sunshine in this April-day life! and then dark clouds and heavy showers."
In an hour, Edward Langdale rode away from Dampierre. He was grave and silent. What was in his heart who can tell? but he certainly did not view the world more brightly, or feel more confidence in human nature, than he had done before that short visit.
CHAPTER XXVI.
Edward Langdale rode on from place to place, sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly, as the condition of the roads and the nature of the country required; and, strangely enough for a journey in those days, neither accident nor adventure befell him. One thing excited his curiosity and suspicion, however. At Trapes, where he passed the first night after leaving the house of Madame de Chevreuse, when he had finished his supper and was just retiring to rest, he caught for a moment, on the somewhat darksome stairs, one glance of a face he thought he had seen before. He could not identify it, indeed, for it was lost as soon as seen; but it instantly carried his mind back to his adventure with the two Savoyards, and he felt almost sure that face belonged to one of them. But neither of the two strangers appeared the next morning; and Pierrot and Jacques both assured him that their horses were not in the stable.
There are faces that haunt us both in night and daydreams; and Edward was almost led to believe that one of these spectres of the imagination had taken possession of him; for twice or three times before he reached Gray that face again crossed him for a moment, and always when no one else was present who could confirm or remove his suspicions.