“Most certainly,” replied De Thiery, receiving his sword; “I wait your own time, and will remain here till you are at leisure.”
De Blenau led the Queen to the carriage in silence, and having handed her in, he kissed the hand she extended to him, begging her to rely upon his honour and firmness. He next gave his hand to Pauline de Beaumont, down whose cheeks the tears were streaming unrestrained. “Farewell, dear Pauline! farewell!” he said. Her sobs prevented her answer, but her hand clasped upon his with a fond and lingering pressure, which spoke more to his heart than the most eloquent adieu.
Madame de Beaumont came next, and embraced him warmly. “God protect you, my son!” said she, “for your heart is a noble one.”
Mademoiselle de Hauteford followed, greeting De Blenau with a calm cold smile and a graceful bow; and the rest of the royal suite having placed themselves in other carriages, the cavalcade moved on. De Blenau stood till they were gone. Raising his hat, he bowed with an air of unshaken dignity as the Queen passed, and then turning to the terrace, he took the arm of the Count de Thiery, and returned a prisoner to the Palace.
CHAPTER II.
Which gives an example of “The way to keep him.”
“WELL, Sir,” said De Blenau, smiling with feelings mingled of melancholy resignation to his fate and proud disdain for his enemies, “imprisonment is too common a lot, now-a-days, to be matter of surprise, even where it falls on the most innocent. Our poor country, France, seems to have become one great labyrinth, with the Bastille in the centre, and all the roads terminating there. I suppose that such is my destination.”
“I am sorry to say it is,” replied his companion. “My orders are to carry you thither direct; but I hope that your sojourn will not be long within its walls. Without doubt, you will soon be able to clear yourself.”
“I must first know of what I am accused,” replied the Count. “If they cry in my case, as in that of poor Clement Marot, Prenez le, il a mangé le lard, I shall certainly plead guilty; but I know of no state crime which I have committed, except eating meat on a Friday.—It is as well, perhaps, Monsieur de Thiery,” continued he, falling into a graver tone, “to take these things lightly. I cannot imagine that the Cardinal means me harm; for he must well know that I have done nothing to deserve ill, either from my King or my country. Pray God his Eminence’s breast be as clear as mine!”
“Umph!” cried the old soldier, with a meaning shake of the head, “I should doubt that, De Blenau. You have neither had time nor occasion to get it so choked up as doubtless his must be.—But these are bad subjects to talk upon: though I swear to Heaven, Sir Count, that when I was sent upon this errand, I would have given a thousand livres to have found that you had been wise enough to set out last night for some other place.”