AFTERWARDS
Two days later we arrived at Hugues's house, and were received with great joy by him and Mathilde. Here the Countess, now happily improved in health, resumed the attire of her sex, which she had there put off. My father then accompanied her to the Chateau de Lavardin, and made her known to the guardsman in command, by whom she was treated with the utmost consideration. With Mathilde to attend her, she remained a few days at the chateau, and then removed with her personal possessions to the house of Hugues, whose marriage to Mathilde was no longer delayed.
But meanwhile my father and I stayed only a day at Montoire, lodging at the inn there. I did not go to the chateau, but my father took thither the two keys, and brought away my sword and dagger, which had been hanging undisturbed in the hall. My farewell to the Countess was spoken in front of Hugues's gate when she started thence for the chateau, and not much was said, for my father and Hugues were there, as well as Mathilde, and the horses were waiting. But something was looked, and never did I cease to carry in my heart the tender and solicitous expression of her sweet eyes as they rested on me for a silent moment ere she turned away.
My father and I, on our homeward journey, stopped at La Flèche and ascertained that Monsieur de Merri's relations had learned of his fate and taken all care for the repose of his body and soul. It appeared that he lived at Orleans, and was used to visit cousins in Brittany: thus, then, had he chanced to stop at Montoire and fall in with the Count de Lavardin. Alas! poor young gentleman!
And now we arrived home, to the great relief of my mother; and Blaise Tripault would hardly speak to my father or me, for envy of the adventures we had passed through without him. But he spread great reports of what I had done,—or rather what I had not done, for he made me a chief hero in the destruction of the band of robbers. But this unmerited fame scarcely annoyed me at all, for my thoughts were elsewhere, and I was restless and melancholy. In a few days I resolved to go to Paris,—by way of Montoire. But before I started, I took a walk one fine afternoon along the stream that bounded our estate: and, as I had expected, there was Mlle. Celeste on the other side, with her drowsy old guardian. She blushed and looked embarrassed, and I wondered why I had ever thought her charming. Her self-confidence returned in a moment, and she greeted me with her old sauciness, though it seemed a trifle forced:
"Ah, Monsieur, so you have come back without going to Paris after all, I hear."
"Yes, Mademoiselle," I answered coldly. "But I have taken your advice and looked a little into the eyes of danger; and I find it does make a difference in one."
"Oh, yes: I believe you fought a duel, and were present when some highway robbers were taken; and now you have come back to rest on your laurels."
"No; I came back to give you these, as I promised." And I threw her the packet containing the moustaches of Brignan de Brignan. She opened it, and regarded the contents with amazement. I laughed.
She looked at me now with real wonder, and I perceived I had grown several inches in her estimation.