Of folks as I saw roam about,
Some within, and some without,
Was never seen, nor shall be no more.”
THE SECRET OF STOKE MANOR: A FAMILY HISTORY.
PART IV.
CHAPTER VI.—CHARLEMONT.
“La vertu, dans le monde, est toujours poursuivie.”—Moliere.
The people swayed and hummed in the road, with strange burnished chequers cast over their very visages as they pressed against the gorgeous gates, thrown open towards each other, so as to form a double impromptu palisade across the highway, and locked as well as steadied by inward props; through the bars of each side-wicket could be seen a scarlet-clothed Swiss sentinel, his musket shouldered, as he paced to and fro, grimly though carelessly contemplating all. But scarce was there time to take in the scene ere a louder trumpet-note sounded from among the trees, and two mounted trumpeters in orange liveries were seen to rise at speed on the brow of the avenue; till, amidst sudden silence, the whole array of a brilliant cortège rose up beyond them from a slope, glittering, indeed, yet pale and almost tarnished amidst the rich evening light, as it emerged through the cool forest chase. It was indeed the royal stag-hunt returning to Marly from the woods. Swiftly they came onward—the troop of chivalrous-looking gardes-du-corps, in sky-blue and gold, scarlet velvet breeches and white-plumed black hats, with ringing scabbards and glossy foam-necked horses,—the carriages and riders, the sledge with the slain stag, and the chasseurs and stag-hounds. But the procession appeared to go across in visionary swiftness between the reversed gates: there was but one glimpse of that single face, with its unfixed and solitary glance, its inscrutable air of calm, ere it had gone past, to a doubtful murmur of Vive le Roi, that was succeeded by a hubbub of sounds, with all the disagreeable pressure of a miscellaneous crowd, sometimes standing on the wheels, or leaning against the carriage-hood. Young Willoughby had torn off his hat with a ‘hurrah!’ which stultified all his previous British protestations.
A face was turned up from the confusion beneath, which, owing to the now neater attire of the possessor, Charles had not before observed: the village teacher had assumed coat and hat, bearing an umbrella of somewhat faded texture beneath his arm, and some workmen evidently assisted him to gain a more convenient position.
“Yes, I say, Father Pierre,” gloomily observed one of the workmen, addressing the teacher, as if in reference to some previous remark, “there are plots!”