CHAPTER VIII
OUR CITY OF REFUGE
At last the rumbling of wheels was heard and a large traveling chaise appeared. It was at once stopped by a Russian officer, but we saw that he permitted Madame Riano to alight, and another person—a slim young figure in a crimson mantle—and that, I knew, was Francezka Capello.
There was a parley between Madame Riano and the officer, but he escorted her and Mademoiselle Capello to the drawbridge, Gaston Cheverny standing his ground until the ladies were well in the courtyard. Then he dismounted, and advancing, bent and whispered in Mademoiselle Capello’s ear, as she followed Madame Riano, who stalked ahead. The Russian officer remained on the farther edge of the bridge. I could not see Francezka’s face clearly, as it was shaded by her large black hat and she kept her eyes downcast. I think she was not without embarrassment at the position in which she found herself, for Madame Riano was insisting on accompanying Count Saxe in his retreat to Uzmaiz. These were her words as she marched up to him:
“Well, Maurice of Saxe, I told you long ago, that this Courland business was an egg that would never hatch. 87 Lacy, the old fox, will bag you yet, if you are not very sharp. I warned you to beware of him—for he is a Scotchman, is Lacy—and his great-great aunt married the wife’s cousin of an ancestor of mine. However, I don’t care to trust myself to those blessed Russians and Courlanders, and I have determined to cast my lot, and my niece’s, and my man Peter, and my two waiting maids, and my chaise, and my horses, with you.”
Here was a pretty addition to men supposed to be in the lightest possible marching order, and expecting to flee for their lives. I never saw Count Saxe disconcerted by any woman except Madame Riano—but she could disconcert a graven image.
“But, Madame,” said my master lamely, “we shall be running great risks; we have a fight on our hands at this moment; for we shall not be allowed to depart in peace.”
“No Kirkpatrick has ever yet avoided a fight,” replied Madame Riano, firmly. “Life with us was ever a battle.”
“But, Madame, it is not only a fight but a flight, I am looking for.”
“Well, the Kirkpatricks were ever better at fighting than running away, but I will agree to stand my ground, so as to give you a chance to run!”