The morning after the departure of these unwelcome visitors, Mr. de Roisel and Maurice started off on their expedition to see Mr. Duberger, and to bring back the horse. They were going two days later than was intended, but a letter had been already sent to Mr. Duberger, explaining why they were obliged to postpone their visit from the twelfth of August to the fourteenth. That gentleman did not live habitually at Paris, but at a place called Palaiseau, which was not more than two or three hours’ drive from Maurice’s home. Mr. de Roisel drove Maurice in a light chaise with one horse; and they started very early, in order to avoid the heat of the day.
Palaiseau is a large straggling village situated in a pleasant valley; and on the hills around are many pretty country houses, one of which was inhabited by Mr. Duberger. Neither Maurice nor his father had been there before, so, on arriving in the village, they had to inquire which was the house. Just in front of the little inn of the village stood three or four men, conversing earnestly, and Mr. de Roisel inquired of them for the house he wanted. One of them replied:—
“It is a good half mile beyond the village, sir; and stands quite alone on the right hand side of the road. We were just talking about a report there is in the village this morning, that Mr. Duberger’s house was broken into by thieves last night; but the accounts are so different I hardly know if any of them are true.”
Mr. de Roisel touched his horse with the whip and hastened on, feeling very anxious and alarmed. After driving about half a mile along the road, he pulled up again to ask his way of a woman who was standing at the door of a cottage.
“Do you want to see Mr. Duberger?” exclaimed the good woman. “Ah, poor dear man! Only to think there are wretches in the world who would do him an injury! But they do not belong to these parts, I’m certain. He does so much good, that no one here would hurt a hair of his head.”
“Good heavens! Has he been murdered?”
“Murdered! No, no: but he was robbed last night of a great many valuable things. That’s bad enough, I hope. If you want to see him, sir, that’s his house, yonder among the trees. The turning there on the right leads directly up to it.” Saying this she pointed to a house, which, seen from a distance, had a good appearance.
They turned up what might once have been a handsome avenue of trees, but many had died or been cut down, and never been replaced. A number of sheep were grazing beneath the trees of the avenue, and there reigned over the place that air of quiet and peace which brings repose both to the eyes and heart.
SHE SAID, “I WAS SURE YOU WOULD NOT BE READY.”