Catherine went quickly into the salon, picked up the hat, veil, whip, and gloves of her mistress, and disappeared. This sudden apparition and action were so striking a commentary on the mayor’s inquiry that Madame d’Hauteserre and the abbe exchanged glances which contained the melancholy thought: “Farewell to all our peace! Laurence is conspiring; she will be the death of her cousins.”
“But what do you really mean?” said Monsieur d’Hauteserre to the mayor.
“The chateau is surrounded. You are about to receive a domiciliary visit. If your sons are here tell them to escape, and the Simeuse brothers too, if they are with them.”
“My sons!” exclaimed Madame d’Hauteserre, stupefied.
“We have seen no one,” said Monsieur d’Hauteserre.
“So much the better,” said Goulard; “but I care too much for the Cinq-Cygne and Simeuse families to let any harm come to them. Listen to me. If you have any compromising papers—”
“Papers!” repeated the old gentleman.
“Yes, if you have any, burn them at once,” said the mayor. “I’ll go and amuse the police agents.”
Goulard, whose object was to run with the royalist hare and hold with the republican hounds, left the room; at that moment the dogs barked violently.
“There is no longer time,” said the abbe, “here they come! But who is to warn the countess? Where is she?”