We mounted, and set forth in the dewy morning—the Russians civil enough, but General Lacy keeping out of sight for very shame at Bibikoff’s conduct, with which he was perfectly well acquainted. They gave us good horses. Count Saxe rode ahead, with Mademoiselle Capello, Gaston Cheverny and me following, and Beauvais 133 behind. Gaston Cheverny had a portmanteau strapped to his saddle, and in it was a treasure most precious to Francezka—her woman’s clothes. I had one equally valued by Count Saxe—his rescript of election by the Diet to the crown of Courland. I hid it between my skin and my shirt. For Francezka’s clothes and Count Saxe’s rescript we were ready to be hanged, drowned, or shot.
Count Saxe meant to make leisurely for our rendezvous at Königsberg. There was no need for rapid travel, as our three hundred and odd men could not reach there for some days after us, as they had to make the entire distance on foot. For ourselves, the presence of Mademoiselle Capello necessarily delayed us, for although hardy for a woman, she could by no means make a day’s ride like old campaigners such as we were.
Almost from the first hour of our journey Francezka began to importune Count Saxe to get her a woman’s saddle and let her resume her own dress. To this Count Saxe soon agreed, Francezka pleading with wet eyes and quivering lips, as if for her life. In truth, her disguise was very incomplete; her long hair, her every look and motion betrayed her sex.
When Francezka had carried this point her spirits rose. She dismounted joyfully at the first roadside inn, and disappearing as a very pretty boy, came out again, as Mademoiselle Capello, her rich locks curled and plaited, and her beloved laced hat, which had cost her so many tears, anxieties and palpitations, set upon her graceful head. Our complications with regard to her would end as soon as we reached Königsberg. Once 134 there it would be easy to make suitable arrangements for her, and until then she was the charge of us all, any one of whom would have laid down his life for her.
Thanks to the smallness of our party, no one suspected who we were. Count Saxe, from motives of prudence, gave himself out as Count Moritz. The weather was sunny, although the September air was sharp, but that only made our blood leap the faster. The roads were good, and the country far from tedious. Our road led us for a time toward the Baltic Sea, whose loud booming we could sometimes hear in the midnight silences.
We were seven days upon the road to Königsberg. They were not the unhappiest days of my life, for I was enabled to do something for Francezka. She turned to me for help in many of those small needs of a woman. It was agreed, when she resumed her own dress, that the best thing to do was to say she was a young lady of rank, accidentally separated from her family and going to meet them at Königsberg. This, and the extreme respect with which we treated her, secured her from the unpleasant comment of the vulgar. Beauvais always served her in her room at the inns where we stopped, and I think, on the whole, she made the journey with ease of mind and comfort of body.
On the seventh evening, toward sunset, we rode into Königsberg, across the new bridge, and up to the best inn of the town, The Rose. And as we rode through the narrow streets, with their tall gabled houses, and into the courtyard of the inn, we saw there the welcomest sight our eyes could have rested on—the traveling chaise 135 of Madame Riano, with old Peter on the box, and Madame Riano herself descending from the chaise. And she was assisted by Regnard Cheverny!
Francezka uttered a cry of joy when she recognized Madame Riano, sprang from her horse before any one of us could give her a hand, and ran to her; then laying her head upon Madame Riano’s arm, burst into tears, but not tears of pain. Madame Riano held her close and kissed her. I think the two were at heart passionately attached to each other. I saw tears also in Madame Riano’s handsome, intrepid, tawny eyes, and her usually loud and determined voice broke when she thanked Count Saxe for his goodness to Mademoiselle Capello.
I was staggered at the sight of Regnard Cheverny, having thought him many hundreds of leagues away; but there he was, in the life, and as handsome and debonair a young gentleman as one would wish to see. He and Gaston embraced with unusual affection even for brothers. Whatever their rivalry might be, there could be no question that each bore love for the other.
Francezka having recovered a little from her agitation, Regnard came forward to greet her, and I saw that in his eye which showed me that he had traveled from Paris to Königsberg for the sight of her. Gaston showed his admiration more openly.