"Nay," he said, "nay, sweet Clémence, that I must not tell you. I scruple not to say, that I think his Majesty is acting without due consideration; but, of course, my first duty, like that of all his other subjects, is to obey; and he particularly wishes that nothing should be said to you on the subject, as it might render one duty difficult by opposing to it another. At present the whole matter is quite simple; we have nothing to do but to set out as soon as these villanous lackeys have got the carriages ready."
Thus saying, the Duke turned away, evidently wishing to avoid further inquiries, and in about half an hour after Clémence was rolling away from Versailles with the Duke and Duchess de Rouvré, followed by a long train of carriages and attendants.
It is needless to trace a melancholy journey in the darkest and gloomiest weather of the month of November; but it was evident that the Duc de Rouvré was in haste, travelling early and late, and it also appeared, from his conversation as they went, that, though he was charged with no special mission from the King, he proposed only pausing for a short time in Poitou, and then bending his steps to some of his other estates. Indeed, he suffered it to be understood that, in all probability, for many months he should take but little repose, frequently changing his place of abode, and travelling from one city to another. Although the health of Madame de Rouvré was by no means vigorous, and though far and rapid travelling never, at any time, had agreed with her, she made no objection, but seemed contented and happy with the arrangement, and even suggested that a journey to Italy might be beneficial to them all.
Clémence wondered but was silent; and at length, late on the afternoon of the sixth day after their departure, they arrived at the small town of Thouars, over which was brooding the dark grey fogs of a November evening. Not many miles remained to travel from Thouars to Ruffigny; and the Duke, who was of course well known in that part of the country, received visits of congratulation on his arrival from the principal officers and inhabitants of the town. At these visits, however, Clémence was not present. She sent down an excuse for not appearing during the evening; and when the Duke sent up to say he wished to see her for a moment, she was not to be found, nor had she, indeed, returned at the end of an hour.
Where was Clémence de Marly? it may be asked. She was in the dark and gloomy abode, often of crime and often of innocence, but ever of anguish and of sorrow. She was in the prison of the old château of Thouars. Not, indeed, as one of those unfortunate beings, the involuntary inmates of the place, but as one coming upon the sad and solemn errand of visiting a dear and well-beloved friend for the last time. The office of governor of the prison, as it was seldom if ever used for the confinement of state offenders, had been suffered to fall into the hands of the mayor of the place, who delegated his charge to an old lieutenant, who again entrusted it to two subordinate gaolers, antique and rusty in their office as the keys they carried. It was with one of these that Clémence was speaking eagerly in the small dark passage that led into the interior of the building. She was habited in the ordinary grey cloak in which we have seen her twice before, and had with her still, on this occasion also, the faithful servant who had then attended her.
"Come, come, pretty mistress," said the man, thrusting himself steadfastly in the way, "I tell you it is as much as my head is worth. He is condemned to be broken on the wheel to-morrow, and I dare admit nobody to him."
"Look at these," said Clémence, pouring some gold pieces from her purse into her open hand. "I offer you these if you will allow me to speak with him for an hour, and if you refuse I shall certainly insist upon seeing the lieutenant of the governor himself. You know what manner of man he is, and whether he will reject what I shall offer him; so he will get the money, and you will not, and I shall see the prisoner notwithstanding."
The man's resolution was evidently shaken to the foundation. He was an old man and fond of gold. The sight was pleasant to him, and, putting forth his hand, he lifted one piece between his finger and thumb, turned it over, and dropped it back again upon the others. The sound completed what the touch had begun.
"Well," he said at length, "I do not see why he should get it and I not. He is asleep, too, now in the arm-chair; so it were a pity to wake him. You want to be with the old man an hour, do you, young woman? Well, you must both go in then; and I must go away and be absent with the keys, for fear the lieutenant should wake and go to see the prisoner."
"Do you mean to lock us in with him, then?" exclaimed the maid, in some terror.