Though, in my progress through life, I had lost a great deal of that taste for bitter enmities with which I had set out in my boyhood, yet, I confess, I did not feel the least apprehension from a knowledge that two men, who viewed me with mortal hatred, had been turned loose upon the world, although the officer added, that, before quitting the presence of the Prince de Condé, they had expressed the most resolute determination to find means of avenging themselves upon me.
This little incident, which possessed some degree of interest while it lasted, was soon forgotten, and all the weariness of my command began to return; but, without knowing it, my governorship of Binches was drawing towards a close. About a fortnight after the capture of Gaspard and his companions, I received a letter from Monsieur le Tellier, which, from its very cordial and friendly commencement,--very different in style and form from the generality of official communications,--I clearly saw was destined, ere its close, to demand some service, or to require some sacrifice. I was not disappointed; for after a number of high commendations, and promises of future advancement, the worthy minister went on to inform me that there was a young protégé of the Cardinal greatly in want of some appointment, and that, if I were inclined to resign my government in his favour, it would be immediately beneficial to him, and ultimately beneficial to myself. To render what the minister believed would be a bitter draught more palatable, he added an immense quantity of the universal sweetener, flattery, telling me that the Cardinal had the less hesitation in making this request, as it would be impossible for the King to suffer so distinguished an officer as myself to remain in the inactivity of a small government after the armies were called into the field for the next campaign; and, as a more substantial inducement, he offered to grant me immediately a higher grade in the army, upon my resignation of the governorship of Binches.
I took very good care, as it may be easily conceived, not to let the minister know, by my reply, how tired I was of the post I occupied, and how desirous I was of returning to Brittany for the two months that were yet likely to elapse before the opening of the campaign. On the contrary, I quietly pointed out how inadequate the new rank offered me was, when viewed as an equivalent to the governorship: but, at the same time, I expressed my perfect willingness to do anything which could oblige or give pleasure to the Cardinal Prime Minister; and I ended by assuring Monsieur le Tellier that, as soon as I received the commission giving the rank he promised, I would send him my resignation of the government in favour of the gentleman he pointed out.
This reply speedily produced a rejoinder, enclosing my commission, thanking me repeatedly for my prompt acquiescence, and promising great things for the future. Extremely well pleased with the whole affair, though very well convinced that the Cardinal would soon find means of forgetting all his promises, I drew up my resignation in due form, and presented it with my own hands to Monsieur le Tellier. My successor was instantly sent to Binches; and, without lingering in Paris a moment more than was necessary, I set out for Brittany alone, leaving my servants and baggage to follow,--preferring still, above all things, the sort of rapid and independent mode of proceeding, to which I had been accustomed before state, or rank, or fortune entitled, enabled, or required me to burden myself with followers or attendants.
My journey, as I rode my own horse, was less rapid than many of those which I had previously made to and from the same spot; but it was a far more pleasant one. Looking upon the house of Monsieur de Villardin as my home, and upon his household as my family, I experienced fully as much pleasure in the prospect of rejoining him as if his blood had flowed in my veins. I felt greatly relieved, too, by the resignation of an irksome office; and, with a sensation of liberty and independence which I had never known while chained, as it were, to the walls of Binches, I rode on through a rich and varying country, which, throughout the whole of my journey, was lighted up by the sweet fresh sunshine of the spring, and which at every step afforded new and beautiful traces of the cessation of anarchy and civil war, and the return of industry and security.
It was evening when I reached Rennes, but there still wanted an hour or two of night; and as my horse was extremely tired, I left him at the auberge, and walked on by the bank of the stream towards the Prés Vallée. The calm sweet meadows, the magnificent woods that surrounded them, the still silvery river that wandered through the midst, all seemed more tranquilly solemn than usual. A feeling of soft repose pervaded the whole scene, while the beams of the setting sun, pouring between the bolls of the giant trees, and streaming amidst the green transparent leaves of the young spring, cheered away every trace of gloom, and left it all still and peaceful, though anything but gay. Although I was going to those I loved, and delighted in the thought of seeing them again, yet the many feelings of my heart, the memories of the past, the hopes of the future, the enjoyment of the present, all, perhaps, tended to make me linger as I wandered on through a scene that seemed to blend and harmonise with every mingled emotion of my bosom.
I had passed the second and third sweep of trees, had crossed the fourth savanna, and had entered the fourth grove, when I heard some one speaking, and, looking forward, I saw two female figures, under one of the trees which bordered the meadow I was just about to cross. They were evidently enjoying the evening sunshine, the one standing with her arm leaning against the old elm that overhung their heads, the other seated on a bench which had been placed at its foot. I had no difficulty in recognising in the first my old acquaintance, Lise, the suivante of Mademoiselle de Villardin, but I could scarcely believe that the other was her young mistress. It seemed but a day since I had left her a mere child; at least, so gradual had been the change up to the time of my last departure, that to me she had seemed but little older than when first I knew her. Now, however, there was a change indeed. Even before I saw her face, the full rounded contour of her whole form, the very fall of her figure, still replete with grace and beauty--but, oh, so different from the grace of childhood--prepared me for an alteration, or rather made me doubt that it could be herself; but when my step caught her ear, and she turned towards me, I paused in surprise. It was certainly the face of Laura de Villardin--every feature was there, but yet so splendidly changed. The full ruby lip, the dark bright eye, the long black lashes, the sunny cheek, were all before me, as I had known them for years: but there was a new soul in them all--a light, a feeling, that left them as different as it is possible to conceive; and yet the general expression, too, was the same--innocent, natural, playful. The features, however, had also become more formed: they had lost every remains of what one may call the shapelessness of childhood, and had acquired all the chiselled symmetry of young maturity.
As I have said, I could scarcely believe my eyes, and I paused; but I soon found that, however changed in form, she was in no degree changed in mind, or heart, or feelings. I was scarcely altered: she saw in me alone the dear companion of her childhood,--the boy who had saved her own and her father's life; and as soon as her eyes rested on me, she started up, and cast herself into my arms, exactly as she had done when she was seven years old. The same affection that she had felt through life beamed up in her eyes--the same joy to see me again, which she had always manifested, sparkled over her countenance--and the same endearing terms of unreserved regard, and delighted welcome, hung upon her lips. It is impossible to describe all that I felt, and indeed I did not stay to analyse it at the time. I pressed her to my heart as a sister, and, kissing her cheek, led her back to her seat. But as she sat down again, and I took my place beside her, a growing blush seemed to tell that for the first time she remembered that she was no longer a child.
It passed away again in a moment; and I was glad to find that, however she settled the matter with her own heart, she was determined to let the change be no change to me. My good friend Lise, too, was delighted to see me; and though eight or nine years had certainly made a considerable difference in her since first I saw her, she had lost none of her native kindness of heart, or cheerfulness of disposition. She loaded me with a thousand questions, admired my dress, declared that I was turning more handsome every year, and called upon Laura for an opinion in regard to my beauty, which roused Mademoiselle de Villardin from a deep reverie into which she had fallen, and which ended in another blush.
It was now her turn to ask questions; and many did she put, though in a very different strain from those of Lise. They were all questions of affection and interest in my fate and happiness, without a touch of curiosity; and when she heard that I had resigned the petty government that I had held, and was at liberty to remain with Monsieur de Villardin as before, I shall not easily forget the joy that beamed out of her beautiful eyes.