[CHAPTER XXII.]
It was late in the day when I returned to Gourville's lodging, and I thought he would have gone mad with joy when I told him the success of my attempt. He frankly avowed to me also, that, though well accustomed to dangerous enterprises, he had listened during my absence for every sound, expecting each minute to find that I had been arrested, and that a lettre de cachet had been sent for his own apprehension.
"And did you really think, Monsieur Gourville," I demanded, "that, even had I been stopped myself, I would have implicated you?"
"There is no knowing, Monsieur,--there is no knowing," replied he: "the question is not a pleasant thing, and I have never been able to tell how I should myself behave under its infliction. I acknowledge that it is just as likely that I should yield all sorts of secrets to its potent influence, as that I should conceal them."
"Of course, then, I can neither be surprised nor offended," I replied, "at your attributing to me the same feelings. But to speak of other matters: to-morrow early I shall go out to St. Maur, to see if a friend, whom I expect there, has returned; but I shall be back in the evening, and you will find me at my auberge by five o'clock." Thus ended our conversation, and we parted.
It is wonderful what changes a few hours produce in this life. On leaving Gourville that night, we were both as fully persuaded as mortal men could be, that our scheme was going on better and better each hour. Nor did we entertain a doubt that we should be able to carry it forward successfully to the close. Ere I had risen from my bed, however, the next morning, I was surprised by some one knocking sharply at my chamber door; and on opening it, the first thing I saw was the face of Gourville, apparently many shades paler than it had been when I left him the night before. "We are lost!" he said; "some unfortunate accident has discovered our whole design."
"Unfortunate, indeed," I answered; "but let me hear, my good friend, what is it that has filled you with such sad tidings this morning, when I left you last night borne up upon the very pinions of hope?"
"I have just discovered," he replied, "that after a long consultation before day-light this morning between the Duke de Beaufort, the Archbishop coadjutor, the Cardinal, and the Duke of Orleans, Monsieur de Beaufort himself, with three troops of cavalry, set out for Vincennes a little before the dawn; and, after searching every village in the neighbourhood, proceeded to the château, and there remains."
This information was certainly alarming enough; but still it seemed to me necessary to obtain some more correct intelligence in regard to the causes of these movements on the part of the Court than Gourville had yet obtained, ere we decided upon abandoning an attempt, which, as far as it had proceeded, had been conducted with great success. Gourville coincided with me in opinion; but the difficulty was, where and how to obtain the information that we required.
"At all events," he said, "it is my duty to communicate immediately what has occurred to the poor fellow, Franc-c[oe]ur, through whom I have carried on my correspondence with the soldiers at Vincennes. He belongs to another company of the guards, who are now in Paris; and as the matter may touch his life, should we be actually betrayed, I must give him instant notice, that he may betake himself to a place of security. As I go, I will endeavour to obtain all the information I can, and will return in less than an hour, and let you know my discoveries."