"Down with Mazarin! To the lamp-post with the _Mazarins_!" yelled the people, but at sight of the grim sergeant and his stalwart troopers their courage oozed away. These night-birds were mostly followers of De Retz, but occasionally we met with a swaggering young n.o.ble or two wearing the colours of the great Conde.

At the gate we were stopped by the officer on duty, who refused to let us pa.s.s, quoting an order from the Duke of Orleans to prevent all persons from leaving the city. Even after inspecting my papers, which were signed by the Queen, he hesitated, declaring the Duke's commands were strict.

"As you please," said I, "only remember that Gaston of Orleans is not King yet, and you will be guilty of the crime of high treason. Unless the gates are opened within five minutes, I shall return to the Palais Royal."

The officer was a brave man, and had he served any other master would doubtless have stood his ground, but no one could depend on Gaston. As likely as not, if any trouble arose, the Duke would throw over his own servant, and expose him to the vengeance of Mazarin.

"Come," I said, when half the time had pa.s.sed, "which is it to be?

Will you take your orders from the Queen or from the Duke?"

At the last minute, though still grumbling, he permitted us to continue the journey, and the coach pa.s.sed outside the city walls. For several miles we rode forward slowly, till the dawn of another day began to appear in the sky; then we quickened the pace, as I was anxious to get as far away from Paris as possible. It was scarcely likely that any one would attempt a rescue, but so many foolish things were done in those days that I did not feel at all secure.

The road along which we travelled was lonely and deserted, the country looked very desolate, and even after the sun had risen there were few people to be observed abroad. At that time I did not know what I afterwards learned, that our route lay through a district which had been swept bare again and again by the horrors of war.

CHAPTER IX.

I Meet with an Exciting Adventure.

About nine o'clock we came to a country inn where I decided to halt, and the troopers, well pleased at the prospect of refreshment, proceeded to stable the horses, while the hostess showed madame and her niece into the best room of the house. The arrival of such a large party caused some consternation, but the host and his servants bustled about cheerfully, and the soldiers were soon sitting down to a rough but abundant meal.

Having seen them satisfactorily settled, I was debating whether to intrude myself on the ladies or not, when the innkeeper informed me that they desired to see me. Accordingly, after speaking a word to the sergeant, I went upstairs, and entered the room where they sat at table.

Madame Coutance, who shortly before had sulked like a spoiled child, had now regained her good humour, and received me with smiles.

"Come, Sir Gaoler, it is not polite to keep your guests waiting," she exclaimed, and I excused myself on the ground of being uncertain whether my presence would be agreeable.

"Certainly! we require you as a taster. The Duke of Beaufort was allowed one at Vincennes, and you would not count him of more consequence than two ladies?"

"I' faith!" I exclaimed, glancing at the viands, "if I am to play that part, there will be little for those who come after me. The night's ride has given me a wolf's appet.i.te!"

"In that case," said Marie laughing, "we will be our own tasters. Sit down, Albert, and let us begin."

For some reason best known to herself, or perhaps for no reason at all, Madame Coutance had become reconciled to the situation. I was received into favour again. We laughed and joked merrily, and resumed the journey in the best of good humour. The leathern coverings were fastened back, and I rode beside the open carriage more as an attendant cavalier than as the officer of an escort. This was far more agreeable to me, though I found it rather awkward to answer some of the questions which madame asked concerning the Cardinal.

"It is a pity the plot was discovered," she said; "in a day or two at the outside Mazarin would have been lost."

"Conde is still in prison," I remarked meaningly.

"He will soon be free. The people are rising, and Mazarin will not dare to keep him in captivity. Ah, my friend, the tables will be turned then!"

"I wish these useless squabbles were at an end," said Marie.

"Have patience, child," exclaimed her aunt, "all will come right in time," and, turning to me, she added, "how long am I expected to remain at Aunay?"

"The Cardinal mentioned a month or two."

"Good faith!" she exclaimed with a toss of her head, "the Cardinal will be over the borders before then!"

"It may be so," I admitted, not anxious to dispute the point.

We were still several miles from Aunay, when the sergeant, who rode with two men in the rear, trotted forward briskly, and reining up my horse, I waited for the soldier to speak.

"Are we likely to be pursued, monsieur?" asked he.

"It is just possible. Why?"

"Because there are a score of hors.e.m.e.n on our track. Pierre, who has keen sight, declares they are cavaliers, young bloods most likely, from Paris."

In a few minutes they came within sight, and, as they approached more closely, I recognised that Pierre's description was correct. They certainly were not ordinary soldiers, and the only doubt remaining was whether they were friends or foes.

The grizzled sergeant decided the question for me.

"Frondeurs, monsieur," he announced with the utmost coolness.

"Then they intend to rescue our prisoners. Can we throw them off?"

"We can try, monsieur, but they will probably overtake us in ten minutes."

"Then we must fight, though the odds are terribly against us."

"As monsieur pleases; we have only to obey orders," and without another word he recalled the soldiers who were in advance.

"What is it?" cried Madame Coutance, excitedly, as I returned to the carriage, "what has happened?"

"Nothing as yet," I answered smiling; "but some of your party have followed us from Paris. For what purpose I leave you to guess."

She clapped her hands and laughed like a child; it just suited her to be the central figure in any kind of adventure.

"A rescue!" she cried. "Marie, do you hear? Our brave cavaliers think we are being dragged to prison, and have come to rescue us. Ah, the fine fellows! How vexed Mazarin will be! Perhaps he imagined I had no friends!"

"Their folly can only do harm, madame," I replied.

"Chut! what absurdity! It is a rich joke, and Scarron shall make a song about it. How they will laugh when I explain that we are going to Aunay and not to prison!"

During this conversation Marie, had remained silent, but now in a low voice she asked, "Are there many, Albert?"

"A score, perhaps," I replied; "but do not be alarmed. As your aunt says, they will probably regard the venture as a rich joke. Now I must go to my men," and I ordered the coachman to drive on rapidly.

The six troopers rode three abreast behind the coach, which rattled along swiftly, while the sergeant and I followed. Each instant brought our pursuers nearer, and it soon became evident that they were able to ride us down.

"Pardon, monsieur," said the sergeant, "but if there is to be a fight we had better get it over. At present we are only spoiling our horses."

"True," I replied, and called on the troopers to halt.

The cavaliers were advancing at a gallop. Foremost of the throng rode my cousin Henri and Baron Maubranne, while close in their rear pressed Peleton, and half a dozen hors.e.m.e.n with whose features I was unacquainted. Behind these again came several men whom I had met at Perret's--Armand d'Arcy, Lautrec, and finally, Raoul.