TRIALS OF THE POLICE
Madame d'Hauteserre, roused by the danger of her sons, and not believing that the Revolution was over, but still fearing its summary justice, recovered her senses by the violence of the same distress which made her lose them. Led by an agonizing curiosity she returned to the salon, which presented a picture worthy of the brush of a genre painter. The abbe, still seated at the card-table and mechanically playing with the counters, was covertly observing Corentin and Peyrade, who were standing together at a corner of the fireplace and speaking in a low voice. Several times Corentin's keen eye met the not less keen glance of the priest; but, like two adversaries who knew themselves equally strong, and who return to their guard after crossing their weapons, each averted his eyes the instant they met.
The worthy old d'Hauteserre, poised on his long thin legs like a heron, was standing beside the stout form of the mayor, in an attitude expressive of utter stupefaction. The mayor, though dressed as a bourgeois, always looked like a servant. Each gazed with a bewildered eye at the gendarmes, in whose clutches Gothard was still sobbing, his hands purple and swollen from the tightness of the cord that bound them. Catherine maintained her attitude of artless simplicity, which was quite impenetrable. The corporal, who, according to Corentin, had committed a great blunder in arresting these smaller fry, did not know whether to stay where he was or to depart. He stood pensively in the middle of the salon, his hand on the hilt of his sabre, his eye on the two Parisians. The Durieus, also stupefied, and the other servants of the chateau made an admirable group of expressive uneasiness. If it had not been for Gothard's convulsive snifflings those present could have heard the flies fly.
When Madame d'Hauteserre, pale and terrified, opened the door and entered the room, almost carried by Mademoiselle Goujet, whose red eyes had evidently been weeping, all faces turned to her at once. The two agents hoped as much as the household feared to see Laurence enter. This spontaneous movement of both masters and servants seemed produced by the sort of mechanism which makes a number of wooden figures perform the same gesture or wink the same eye.
Madame d'Hauteserre advanced by three rapid strides towards Corentin and said, in a broken voice but violently: "For pity's sake, monsieur, tell me what my sons are accused of. Do you really think they have been here?"The abbe, who seemed to be saying to himself when he saw the old lady, "She will certainly commit some folly," lowered his eyes.
"My duty and the mission I am engaged in forbid me to tell you,"1
This refusal, which the detestable politeness of the vulgar fop seemed to make all the more emphatic, petrified the poor mother, who fell into a chair beside the Abbe Goujet, clasped her hands and began to pray.
"Where did you arrest that blubber?" asked Corentin, addressing the corporal and pointing to Laurence's little henchman.
"On the road that leads to the farm along the park walls; the little scamp had nearly reached the Closeaux woods," replied the corporal.
"And that girl?"
"She? oh, it was Oliver who caught her."
"Where was she going?"
"Towards Gondreville."
"They were going in opposite directions?" said Corentin.
"Yes," replied the gendarme.
"Is that boy the groom, and the girl the maid of the citizeness Cinq-Cygne?" said Corentin to the mayor.
"Yes," replied Goulard.
After Corentin had exchanged a few words with Peyrade in a whisper, the latter left the room, taking the corporal of gendarmes with him.
Just then the corporal of Arcis made his appearance. He went up to Corentin and spoke to him in a low voice: "I know these premises well," he said; "I have searched everywhere; unless those young fellows are buried, they are not here. We have sounded all the floors and walls with the butt end of our muskets."Peyrade, who presently returned, signed to Corentin to come out, and then took him to the breach in the moat and showed him the sunken way.
"We have guessed the trick," said Peyrade.
"And I'll tell you how it was done," added Corentin. "That little scamp and the girl decoyed those idiots of gendarmes and thus made time for the game to escape.""We can't know the truth till daylight," said Peyrade. "The road is damp; I have ordered two gendarmes to barricade it top and bottom.
We'll examine it after daylight, and find out by the footsteps who went that way.""I see a hoof-mark," said Corentin; "let us go to the stables.""How many horses do you keep?" said Peyrade, returning to the salon with Corentin, and addressing Monsieur d'Hauteserre and Goulard.
"Come, monsieur le maire, you know, answer," cried Corentin, seeing that that functionary hesitated.
"Why, there's the countess's mare, Gothard's horse, and Monsieur d'Hauteserre's.""There is only one in the stable," said Peyrade.
"Mademoiselle is out riding," said Durieu.
"Does she often ride about at this time of night?" said the libertine Peyrade, addressing Monsieur d'Hauteserre.
"Often," said the good man, simply. "Monsieur le maire can tell you that.""Everybody knows she has her freaks," remarked Catherine; "she looked at the sky before she went to bed, and I think the glitter of your bayonets in the moonlight puzzled her. She told me she wanted to know if there was going to be another revolution.""When did she go?" asked Peyrade.
"When she saw your guns."
"Which road did she take?"
"I don't know."
"There's another horse missing," said Corentin.
"The gendarmes--took it--away from me," said Gothard.
"Where were you going?" said one of them.
"I was--following--my mistress to the farm," sobbed the boy.
