When my worthy acquaintance Hubert and his companions had departed in the manner I have described in the last chapter, I had time to look round me, and consider both my own situation and theirs who had just left me.

From everything I had seen I could not doubt that the encounter with the courier and his escort had taken place, and that the robbers had proved successful. It was evident, however, that the struggle had been severe; and from the slaughter of three of their horses, as well as from their leaving a fourth for myself, I was led to conclude that four of the gang had perished in the affray. At all events, no doubt could exist as to their having left their late dwelling for ever; and I certainly was not a little obliged to them for the care which they had taken to provide me with the means of pursuing my journey.

Nevertheless, I judged that it might be expedient to examine their habitation and its vicinity thoroughly before I quitted it; and, on doing so, I found that in the hurry of their departure they had left behind them my own saddle and accoutrements, which I instantly placed upon the horse instead of those with which they had furnished him, not knowing how far the fact of sitting in a thief's saddle might not compromise me with those who might chance to be in pursuit of the thief. Having added my own peculiar saddlebags to the load of my charger, I took such a general survey of the ground and the road which led to it as might be useful afterwards, and, bidding farewell to the old mill, made the best of my way back to the high road. As I never forgot a path that I had once travelled, I had no difficulty in retracing my steps to the exact point at which I had fallen into the hands of the robbers, and gladly found myself once more on the road towards St. Malo, free from any apprehension of fresh interruption.

The affray, however, with the courier and his escort, must have taken place farther up the road, for it could not have failed to have left bloody traces wherever it occurred; and I met with none such in my onward journey, which I now pursued in the same direction that I had been following when I was interrupted. To tell the truth, I was not at all sorry to have no direct knowledge of the affair, for in these cases concealment is almost as bad as the crime itself, and it must be remembered that I was not in a situation to put my head willingly into the jaws of justice. I was, therefore, well contented that the robbery of the courier, and the murder of his escort, had passed totally without my personal cognisance, although I had no doubt whatever of the facts. To put myself as far, too, from the scene as possible, I galloped on pretty quickly till I came to a carrefour, where the road I was pursuing was crossed by that from St. Aubin to Rennes. It was at the distance of at least ten miles from the scene of my late adventures; and as I came up to it I perceived, seated on the little mound of earth at the foot of the guide-post, a man in the dress of a pedlar, with his box of wares laid down by his side. At first he was turned in such a manner as to prevent me from seeing his face; but the sound of my horses' feet causing him to look round, he displayed a countenance garnished with a long black beard, an ornament which at that time was beginning to fall into great disrepute throughout all civilized Europe--so much so, indeed, that no such thing was to be seen in all France, except perhaps on the faces of Jews and Capuchins, and a few which had descended from the reign of Henri Quatre, and were, I suppose, valued by their owners on the score of their antiquity.

The one before me at present was voluminous and massy; but, nevertheless, it did not serve to conceal from me the identity of the wearer with an acquaintance whose face had boasted no such appendage a fortnight before. I affected not to recognise him, however, and, dismounting from my horse--which instantly betrayed its ancient habits by browsing the roadside--I sat down on the same mound with the other traveller, and began conversing with him as a peddling Jew. He spoke learnedly and lamentably upon the evils and inconveniences of his own profession, and ended by moralising so sagely upon the necessity of bearing our own portion of ills with constancy and calmness, that I could not help exclaiming, "Ah! my dear philosopher, you are now quite complete: when I knew you on the Quai des OrfÈvres you wanted nothing of Socrates but the beard."

Jacques Marlot shook his head. "Can your eyes see through stone walls, little serpent," he cried; "but remark what your good crowns have done for me; procured me this box of trumpery, and a beard that is worth half the money."

"I am heartily glad to see you so well equipped," replied I; "although your imprudence, joined to my own, had very nearly procured me a journey to the Bastile, and has actually caused me to be stripped of a thousand crowns." I then related to the ci-devant printer all that had occurred to me since we last met, and I was glad to find that he sincerely felt for all the inconveniences I had suffered, and pressed me to take back again the sum of five crowns, which was all that he had remaining of the thirty I had given him. He declared at the same time that he himself could do very well without, for that the contents of his box, assisted by a fluent tongue and the gullibility of the peasantry, had proved quite sufficient, since he began his new trade, to maintain him as well as he could desire, though, to say the truth, his taste for the good things of life was not the most moderate.

I refused to accept his offer, of course, telling him that money was quite unnecessary to me, as I counted upon reaching the castle of Monsieur de Villardin in less than an hour.

"You are quite mistaken, my son," he replied; "whether you mean his castle of the PrÉs VallÉe, or that of Dumont; the first being at the distance of at least twenty, and the latter nearly forty miles from the place where we now stand."

This intelligence surprised me a good deal, as I found that I had entirely miscalculated my situation, and had mistaken my road. Jacques Marlot, however, who, as well as his uncle, good Jerome Laborde, was a native of the country, and acquainted with every rood of ground round about, undertook to guide me on my way, and, walking my horse by his side as he trudged on, we arrived within a few miles of Rennes that night. The next morning, after sleeping in one of the neighbouring villages, we separated, he intending to proceed to St. Malo, to carry on his traffic with any of the seamen arriving from foreign ports, and I turned my steps in the direction of the PrÉs VallÉe, to which he pointed out the road.

No farther accident or adventure occurred to delay my arrival, and, about ten o'clock in the morning, I reached the place of my destination. Here I was received with all due deference by the domestics who tenanted the house, and delivered all the letters which I bore to the farmers and receivers of Monsieur de Villardin.

Nothing could be more beautiful, though nothing could be more solemn, than the aspect of the castle, and the scene that surrounded it. It was a fortified house, of no great military strength, situated on a slight eminence, rising above the vast rich meadows that stretch for many miles along the borders of the Vilaine. These meadows were broken--for I cannot call it separated--by large belts of magnificent forest trees, which seemed to owe their planting to the hand of nature rather than to that of man, but which, nevertheless, had been so skilfully thinned, that the boughs of one never interfered with the boughs of another; and each grew up in liberty, protecting, as it were, under its branches, its own particular domain, without infringing upon the bounds of its neighbour. Each of these belts varied in shape and distribution; but each left from fifty to sixty acres of pasture ground clear and open within its circuit, with the river generally forming the boundary on one side, and the trees sweeping round on every other, so that each meadow seemed to be a spot of rich ground which had been cleared and cultivated ages ago, in the midst of a vast forest, the trees of which were still standing around. In fact, a person placed in the centre of any of these open spaces, saw nothing but wood beyond the meadow that surrounded him, till, walking on for a minute or two, under the shade of gigantic elms and oaks, he entered another wide pasture field like that he had just left.

The effect of the whole would have been gloomy, had it not been enlivened by the frequent turns of the river, and the sight of cattle and sheep feeding in the various savannahs, under the charge of their several herds, who most frequently were found cheering their occupation with a song. There was something calm, and simple, and patriarchal in the whole scene, which struck me greatly as I passed through it; and I could have fancied myself removed by thousands of years and thousands of miles from the countries and the times through which I had lately been moving.

The castle itself, built of cold grey stone, and covered in several parts with ivy, was in perfect harmony with everything around it; and the good taste of Monsieur de Villardin, who entered fully into the peculiar character of the scene, had left all the furniture and decorations of the house--which were rich and good, though in antique style and form--exactly as they had come into his possession.

As I propose to write down in this book the changes of my disposition and character as I advanced through life, as well as the various turns of fortune that attended me in my progress through the world, I must pause for a moment to speak of that which was passing within my own heart, while the events which I have described were working out my general fate.

A new spirit was about this time beginning to spring up in my bosom, and a taste for things that I never before enjoyed was every day developing itself more and more. Whether it was that Lord Masterton had first called my attention to the beauties of nature, or whether it was that before my acquaintance with him I never had time to think of them, I cannot tell; but certainly I began to feel a delight in the aspect of such scenes as the PrÉs VallÉe, which formerly I had never experienced; and during the first two or three days, I fancied that I could remain there alone for ever.

I had not yet learned, it is true, to examine very closely what I felt, but I remember at the time thinking it strange, that whereas not two years before I could have passed through the fairest scenes in nature without giving them any particular attention, unless they were lighted up by pike and gun, I now stopped to gaze, without well knowing why, whenever anything that was fair or sweet met my eye. I might not, indeed, look at Nature's face with the feelings of a painter or of a poet; but I certainly did begin to experience great pleasure in the contemplation of a beautiful prospect, and would turn away when I had done so, pleased, but thoughtful,--I might almost say, sad.

I felt this more than I had ever felt it before in the solitude of my new dwelling, and many an hour I passed away in various sylvan sports, which, while they gave me active employment, still led me into the fairest scenes in the country round.

Nevertheless, I found myself bound in duty to Monsieur de Villardin to make him acquainted with all the incidents of my journey; and though at that time I loved not sitting at a desk, even as long as was required to write a short letter, yet, forcing myself to the task with a great effort, I detailed everything that had occurred to me, and despatched the epistle to St. Aubin,--for I would not trust it at Rennes--to go by the next ordinary courier to Paris. Nothing happened to disturb my tranquillity for the ten days that followed, and I remained fishing in the streams, or shooting the wolves and the boars, with very little intermission. On one occasion, indeed, having a letter to deliver from the Duke to his intendant at his other estate of Dumont, I rode over thither, and found a very different scene from that presented by the PrÉs VallÉe--rocks and mountains, and streams and waterfalls, with a modern house, modern alleys, modern bridges, and modern furniture. In the mood which then possessed me, however, the PrÉs VallÉe was more to my taste, and I returned to its calm shades as soon as possible, leaving the letter to be delivered to the intendant, who was absent at the time of my arrival.

At the end of ten days a courier reached the PrÉs VallÉe from Paris, bringing a large packet addressed to myself, on opening which I found a short letter from Monsieur de Villardin, directing me to wait for a fortnight longer in Brittany for the purpose of bringing up the rents of several of his farms, and referring to another more voluminous paper contained in the same packet, which, as I soon perceived, expressed the will and pleasure of the King that no proceedings should take place against John Marston Hall, for the rescue of a prisoner from the hands of the criminal lieutenant, and authorized him to plead the royal grace and pardon in all matters referring thereto.

This, as may well be supposed, afforded a great relief to my mind, for it was by no means pleasant to go about the world with the fear of the Bastile hanging about the neck of one's imagination. Although I had now no apprehensions from the pursuit of justice, I soon began to feel the solitude of the PrÉs VallÉe less delightful than it had seemed at first; and though, had there been any one to share my sports, or to occupy my time, I should still have enjoyed it much; yet the hours gradually became somewhat tiresome, shut up in an old castle, with nothing but solemn woods around one, and a library of old books for my sole companions. I now, however, found the Latin with which Lord Masterton had furnished me turn to some account; and after having read Ovid two or three times through, I dipped into Lucan, and pored over several other books, in order to while away the evenings.

At length, with infinite joy, I heard that the rents were all paid into the hands of the intendant, with the exception of a small sum, which was expected the next day; and I directed the courier, who had remained for the purpose of returning with me to Paris, to prepare for our journey on the third day. Scarcely had I given the order, however, when a letter reached me, brought by the King's ordinary to Rennes. It was in the hand-writing of Monsieur de Villardin, and contained but a few words, which were evidently written under feelings of agitation or haste. In this billet, for letter I can scarcely call it, he directed me to forbear my journey, as he himself and his whole household would be at the PrÉs VallÉe in six days from the date of his letter; and he then went on to bid me communicate this fact to the various domestics in the chÂteau, in order that it might be prepared, as usual, for his reception.

This change of destination was not unpleasant to me, for all I now wanted was society and occupation; and, prevented as I had been, by my youth and my English birth, from entering into the debaucheries or factions of Paris, its routine had become wearisome to me even before I quitted it. All was now bustle in the chÂteau. As the autumn was coming on, fires were lighted in every apartment, and busy hands were engaged in removing the dust which, during the last two years, had accumulated in the untenanted rooms. My solitary residence of a month in the midst of such scenes as those around me had, I believe, done more to call forth whatever portion of imagination entered into the composition of John Marston Hall than all the events of his former life. Lord Masterton, as I had before said, had done a good deal, it is true; but even when I quitted him, my great thirst was for action, not for thought. Now a new ingredient seemed mingling with my nature: I began to view the things around me in a different light; and though I would fain have had some one to converse with, yet I could dream even alone. Thus, during the next two or three days, when the evening had closed in, and I was left in the old library by myself, after reading for an hour or two, I would rise, and without a candle, wander through all the dim vast halls and gloomy chambers of the PrÉs VallÉe, watching the flickering light of the fires, kindled in each chamber to scare away the damp, as the flame flashed faintly from time to time upon the rich arras and dark hangings, and dreaming all the time of heaven knows what compound of scenes and adventures which those chambers might have witnessed in times past.

My conduct in these respects, indeed, was somewhat strangely misconstrued by an old female domestic who always remained in the house; but as the misconstruction was all to my advantage, I had no reason to complain. By a little civility and kindness, I had established with her the character of a complete ph[oe]nix of pages; and I afterwards found that old Marguerite assured Madame de Villardin, on her arrival, that I had every night made a complete tour of the chÂteau to see that the fires were burning, and the rooms properly aired. At length, after waiting two days in hourly expectation of the coming of Monsieur de Villardin, an avant-courier arrived, and in about two hours more the cavalcade appeared in the avenue. In Paris, where one never saw the whole household of the Duke collected, one was not aware of the numbers it contained; but now, when two carriages, each containing eight people, and drawn by six horses, were followed up to the gates by twenty-four horsemen, one begun to have a much more respectful idea of Monsieur de Villardin's establishment than one had formerly entertained. The Duke himself was on horseback; and, springing to the ground the first, he gave his hand to the Duchess, who appeared to me pale and languid. Both spoke kindly to me: but I could clearly perceive that something was wrong in the domestic comfort of the family; and I soon found that the defects of Monsieur de Villardin's temper and character had not been greatly improved since I had left Paris. Old Jerome Laborde was my principal oracle in these matters, and from him I learned, that for some weeks the Duchess had been very gay in the capital; had been out continually, except when she received company at home, and had been universally admired and praised. All this had been less agreeable to Monsieur de Villardin than it might have been to a man of a more happy disposition; and after becoming irritable and morose in a considerable degree, he had suddenly announced his determination of retiring to Brittany.

Madame de Villardin, unconscious of offence herself, and, as most women do, mistaking her husband's character, endeavoured to argue him out of his resolution. A discussion ensued, the particulars of which did not transpire, even to the all inquiring ears of soubrettes and valets de chambre; but the whole household perceived that it must have been bitter and severe, for when it was over, Madame de Villardin was found fainting, and bathed in tears. The arrangements for departure were hurried from that moment: and before three days were over, the whole party were on their way to the PrÉs VallÉe.

As the old man told me this story spontaneously, I thought I might, at least, venture to ask whether he believed the Duke to have any real cause for the jealousy that he evidently felt.

"None on earth," replied the major-domo. "My lady is gay and lively, and loves well enough to be admired: but she loves my lord dearly, we are all convinced; and, depend upon it, no woman ever went astray yet without the servants finding it out."