The day was just at its close as we issued forth from the forest, and took our way towards the bridge which crossed the river. I followed the procession on horseback amongst the last; and the whole scene, associated as it was with many deep interests and strange memories, was one of the most beautiful and extraordinary that ever my eye beheld. It was a splendid autumn evening, with the sun pouring his setting beams from the west, amidst scattered clouds tinged with every glorious colour that the mind can conceive. The long line of litters, and carriages, and horsemen, and foot, was winding slowly down the slope, which led from the edge of the wood towards the stream; and far and wide beneath my eyes--with every undulation marked by its own peculiar shade, and every building or group of trees casting long purple shadows as they cut off the rays of the declining sun--lay the rich wide lands of Brittany; while round about me, dark and heavy with the evening twilight, rose the broken masses of wood, with the thousands of wild banks and thorny dingles which skirted the verge of the forest. The peculiar rich light of the hour, too, spread over all the scene; and, catching here and there upon the bright arms and gay dresses of the soldiers and the servants, marked the different points in the procession; while every now and then, even in the more distant prospect, it touched some glistening object, and made it start forth, like a diamond, from the dark lines of planting or the gray slopes of the lulls, not unlike one of those bright goals which youth fixes for its endeavours through life, as it stands upon the verge of manhood, and contemplates the distant future, while imagination flashes brilliantly on the object of desire, and lends it a lustre not its own. There was a fascination in the moment, and the scene, and the feelings of my own heart, not to be resisted; and I reined in my horse, for a single instant, to gaze upon the prospect, and then followed on, thinking, that if the beauties of nature be a substantial blessing to man, how much does his appreciation of them depend upon the state of his own bosom. A few hours before, I might have ridden through Tempe at day-break, without noting that there was anything lovely before my eyes; and now, I could not have passed a quiet dell, or a bubbling brook, without feeling that the whole world is beautiful.

I had lingered awhile behind the rest in order to hear the report of a party which had been sent to examine the mill, at which I doubted not that Hubert and his companions had established their chief rendezvous: but nothing was found there which could lead to any further discovery; and, as soon as the other horsemen overtook me, I rode on; and, easily passing the rest of the cavalcade, acted as their harbinger at the PrÉs VallÉe. I found Father Ferdinand in no small agitation; but before giving him any particulars of the events which had occurred, I despatched messengers to Rennes for every sort of medical assistance, and then relieved more fully the good Father's anxiety concerning Monsieur de Villardin and Laura.

"Are you sure, are you sure, that he is not much hurt?" he asked eagerly, referring to Monsieur de Villardin.

"The wound certainly, at first, appeared a very serious one," I replied; "but by the speedy cessation of the hemorrhage, and the want of that great weakness which I have generally seen follow very dangerous wounds, I trust there is nothing to be apprehended."

"God grant it!" replied the Priest, "God grant it!" and after gazing upon me for a moment or two, he added, "and what is to become of you, my son?"

I understood the meaning of his question fully, and replied, "As far as I have been enabled to judge, good Father, there exists no further necessity for absenting myself. The Count de Laval resigns all claim to the hand of Mademoiselle de Villardin, and the Duke does not show any desire to bid me return to Dumont. But--ere we are interrupted--I hear from good old Jerome, that you despatched a messenger to me some days since. He never reached me."

"No, no!" cried Father Ferdinand, hastily, "No, no.--It is a mistake. I despatched no messenger to you, my son. But, hark! I think I hear the horses' feet," and he turned to the window to look out.

He was mistaken, however; and some minutes more elapsed before the cavalcade made its appearance. Our first care was, of course, of Monsieur de Villardin; but though he spoke only a few words, in an under voice, for fear of irritating the wound in his breast, and consented immediately to go to bed, yet he walked up the stairs with so much strength, that our apprehensions on his account were nearly done away.

The servants and soldiers who had been wounded, were disposed of in various parts of the building; and I aided in carrying the unhappy Suzette to a chamber on the ground floor, as she seemed to suffer so greatly from the slightest motion that we feared to convey her to a more convenient apartment. As soon as we had laid her upon her couch, I was turning to give what assistance I could in the other arrangements, but she beckoned me eagerly back, saying, in a low, husky voice, "I would speak with you, sir! I would speak with you alone!"

She was evidently dying, and of course her request was not to be refused. Desiring the servants, therefore, to attend to the safe keeping of Gaspard de Belleville, I bade them leave me, and, closing the door, approached the bedside of the unhappy woman, whose moments in this life were waxing few.

"Monsieur de Juvigny," she said, in a voice so faint and inarticulate, that it required great attention to catch the meaning of her words; "Monsieur de Juvigny--I would fain tell you something which may be of service both to you and to the Duke.--Do you remember, when I told you my history once before, I said I had a third motive for bidding you repeat it to Monsieur de Villardin?"

"Well--very well!" I replied; "but, my good Suzette, be as brief as possible, for you are wasting your strength, and you may yet need all you have left."

"You need not hear me, unless you please," she answered, peevishly, and then continued, in the same low and irregular voice, "Well, I was saying, that I had a third motive--it was this, that I knew something that no one else knew; and I knew it, because, after I was sent away from Dumont, I lodged for some time in the house of old Madame----"

I lost the name, and her voice became more and more indistinct, but still she went on:--"She used to attend sick people, you know, at Estienne, and though she had been sworn to secrecy, yet----"

But her words became quite unintelligible, and perceiving that I did not understand her, she paused, and gazed in my face with a painful stare of anger and disappointment, as if my want of attention had been the cause of my not comprehending what she said. I saw that death was approaching fast, and I asked, in charity, "Would you wish to see your husband, Suzette?"

She made an effort to raise herself upon her arm, as she exclaimed distinctly, "I hate him!" but immediately sunk back upon the pillow. In answer to another question, as to whether she would wish to see a minister of religion, she raised her hand, and bowed her head, in token of acquiescence; and, rising, I proceeded to seek for Father Ferdinand.

I was told that he was in the chamber of Monsieur de Villardin, with Laura, and old Jerome Laborde; and, taking the liberty which had always been granted me of entering the Duke's apartments in the hours of sickness, I proceeded immediately thither, in search of the good confessor.

Father Ferdinand was engaged in writing a paper for Monsieur de Villardin, who, as I entered, held up his finger to me to keep silence till it was completed, which was not long in being done. The Duke then read it over attentively, and turning slightly in his bed, affixed his signature to it. The Count de Laval, who was also in the room, next advanced and took the pen; and I could see the eyes of Laura, who was sitting by her father's pillow, glance from him to me, beaming up as they did so, with a look full of affection and hope. When the Count had signed it, Laura also put her name, and Jerome and Father Ferdinand added their own, as witnesses.

"Monsieur de Juvigny," said Monsieur de Villardin, speaking in a low voice, which was evidently modulated from caution more than from weakness, "what were you going to say?"

"I was merely about to tell Father Ferdinand," I replied, "that that unhappy woman, Suzette, is below, dying, and that she requires the aid of the church, with speed."

Father Ferdinand instantly rose to seek her, but Monsieur de Villardin made a sign to him to pause for a moment, and, beckoning me closer to him, he gave me the paper which he had just signed. "Although I believe that I have been much nearer death than I am at present," he said, "yet as all wounds such as I have received are uncertain in their consequences, I have thought fit, my dear boy, as far as possible, to put your happiness, and that of my dear Laura, beyond further doubt. If I survive, I myself will join your hands; if not, that paper will remove all difficulty on the part of others. Nay, do not thank me, de Juvigny; Monsieur le Comte here has behaved most nobly, and requires the gratitude of all; but I have only acted now as I should have acted long ago. Now, my dear sir," he added, speaking to the confessor, "seek the poor creature who desires your presence. Perhaps when the surgeons arrive, I may wish you and de Juvigny to be with me also; but, in the meantime, I would willingly pass half an hour alone. Nay, leave me, dear Laura, and look not sad. Things will go well, I am sure."

We all, accordingly, left the room. Father Ferdinand betook himself to the bedside of Suzette. The emotions in the bosom of Laura, both pleasurable and painful, were too many and too mixed to admit of words, and she immediately retired to her chamber; while old Jerome proceeded to bustle about in discharge of the various functions of his office, so that the moment after we had left Monsieur de Villardin, the Count and myself were left alone. My feelings towards him at that instant would not be very easily defined even now, nor did I very well know how to demean myself towards him, so as to express my sense of his noble and feeling conduct, without abating my own dignity.

"Monsieur le Comte," I said, after some slight hesitation, "you have acted nobly and generously towards me, and, therefore, I have to return you my thanks, which I do most sincerely, for pursuing a line of conduct that, doubtless, was the best calculated to promote your own happiness also, but which, most certainly, has ensured and restored mine."

"You owe me no thanks, Monsieur de Juvigny," he replied. "Having had few opportunities of cultivating the pleasure of your acquaintance, I cannot be supposed to have been actuated by any feeling of personal interest towards you. The fact is, that Mademoiselle de Villardin, some days ago, gave me to understand that her affections were irrevocably bestowed upon another; and, however highly I might esteem the honour of Monsieur de Villardin's alliance, of course I did not covet the hand of a young lady, whose heart, I clearly saw, I could never hope to possess. Other circumstances combined, I acknowledge, to fix my determination; but once having resolved upon resigning all claim to the honour intended for me, I saw no reason why I should not do my best to make her happy, who had frankly informed me that she could never make me so. Thus you see that you have no cause to thank me, though I do not deny that it gives me great pleasure to serve a gentleman every way so deserving as yourself."

This was spoken in that calm, polite, ceremonious sort of tone, which put all feeling out of the question, and which seemed perfectly intended to stop everything like an expression of gratitude. Such being the case, I, of course, said no more upon the subject, and the Count at once turned the conversation to the events which had lately occurred.

"It seems to me evident, Monsieur de Juvigny," he said, "from all I have been enabled to gather, that this attack upon our party has been long concerted, and that nothing has prevented its execution before but want of opportunity. I am curious, however, I acknowledge, to ascertain how such a scheme could be long carried on without being divulged by some accident or other. These people, it is evident, must have watched us for some time, and must also have been very thoroughly acquainted with all that was passing here."

"I doubt not that they were, my lord," I replied; "but, in regard to their schemes not having been discovered, you are, in some degree, mistaken; for the night previous to my departure from this place, about three weeks or a month ago, I myself observed two men examining the chÂteau, late at night, and heard a part of their conversation, which, though it certainly did not afford me any accurate information, at all events served to show me that some evil design was in progress. With these facts I made Monsieur de Villardin acquainted; but it appears that, confiding in the number of his attendants, he did not take the necessary precautions."

"It seems," replied the Count, with a smile that I did not particularly like--"It seems that you were more watchful over our safety. Nay, do not look offended, Monsieur de Juvigny, I mean nothing that should in the least hurt you, thinking it very natural that a young lover should hover round his mistress, although he might think that she was lost to him for ever."

"At all events, Monsieur le Comte, your conclusion is, I can assure you, wrong. The fact is, that I received information, some time ago, from Monsieur de Villardin himself, purporting that the marriage of his daughter was to take place yesterday, and that he himself, with all his family, were to set out immediately for Paris. Concluding that this was the case, I felt myself at liberty to return to scenes that were dear to me; and, on my arrival, was met by the woman who informed me of your situation, and directed me to the spot where you had been carried. I am still, however, ignorant of all the events which preceded my finding you in the forest, and I would fain ask a detail of them, were it not trespassing too greatly on your time."

"Oh! the whole business is very soon related," replied he. "Mademoiselle de Villardin being so much better, and able to take the air, her father determined to accompany her in the carriage, while I, with four servants, escorted them on horseback. After passing the bridge at--I forget the name of the place--we went on for about a mile or a mile and a half towards the forest, intending to turn back ere we reached it, when suddenly, as we were passing between two hedges, we were saluted by a volley of musquetry, which instantly brought three of the servants to the ground, and wounded my horse so severely as to make him fall with me. At the same time the carriage was surrounded, Monsieur de Villardin seized and tied before he could make any resistance, and I, sharing the same fate, was placed beside him and Mademoiselle in the carriage. The ruffian you shot, and his companion, as well as another personage of the same stamp, took their places beside us. Two of the servants who were wounded, as well as the rest who were made prisoners, were forced to sit on their horses and follow the rest; and we were soon carried off into the heart of the wood, leaving none but one of the poor fellows, who had been killed upon the spot, behind us. All this occupied a considerable time, and I was in hopes every moment that some one, attracted by the sound of musquetry, might come up and at least carry the news to the town. But in this wild province one might as well be in a desert. No one appeared, and we were dragged on into the wood, without the slightest power of resistance. Luckily, however, the road was so bad and sandy, that we made but slow progress; and, at length, as good fortune would have it, just as we were going to cross the stream, the carriage was overturned, and stuck immovable in the sand. You may easily imagine that we afforded no great assistance to our conductors, and did not make our movements any quicker than we were compelled to do. Thus at least half-an-hour was consumed in endeavouring to move the carriage, and in getting us out of it. We were then forced to walk forwards for a considerable distance to an old mill, which seemed at some former period to have been destroyed by fire; and here, all our horses having been tied to the building, we were again marched forward to the little chapel where you found us, and where we were received by another of the band, who seemed to have a priest in his custody, though, I must confess, the worthy clerk did not appear to be under any very great restraint. I had remarked, as we went along, that one of the leaders of our assailants had paid considerable attention to Mademoiselle de Villardin, and had also learned, from some words that Monsieur de Villardin let fall--though they took care, with pistols at our throats, to keep us from much conversation--that the other personage, who seemed to take a lead amongst them, had formerly been a page in this family. I was thus the less surprised when, on reaching the chapel, the former coolly proposed to Mademoiselle de Villardin to become his wife; and, as a sort of mild inducement, informed her that, unless she instantly consented, he would shoot her father, myself, and all the other prisoners before her eyes. Of course, a considerable discussion took place upon this point, which was cut short by your punishing the villain as he deserved; and with everything else that occurred, you are, perhaps, better acquainted than I am."

"The only matter that I do not know," I replied, "and which I had forgotten till this moment, is the fate of the priest, whom I do not remember to have seen after the beginning of the affray."

"Oh! I marked him well," replied the Count. "He slipped away into the wood as fast as possible; and, as his clerical dress probably saved him from interruption on the part either of the servants or the soldiers, he was, no doubt, soon far enough from the scene of conflict."

The arrival of the surgeons at this moment interrupted our further conversation; and, according to the desire which Monsieur de Villardin had expressed, I proceeded to the chamber where I had left Suzette, in order to call Father Ferdinand to accompany the medical men to the Duke's chamber. Knowing that the unhappy woman, even before I left her, had been incapable of making confession, except by signs, I did not hesitate to open the door, and I found the good priest still standing by her bedside, but no longer engaged in offering the consolations of religion, which now could have fallen alone upon the deaf ear of the dead.

"It is all over, my son," he said, as he saw me. "Have the surgeons arrived?"

I replied that they had, and he immediately followed me to the saloon where I had left them, whence we again proceeded to the chamber of Monsieur de Villardin. We found him perfectly composed, and willing to submit to anything that the medical men might think proper. But, after examining the wound, questioning their patient, and consulting long amongst themselves, the surgeons judged it not expedient even to attempt the extraction of the ball; but applied themselves, as far as possible, to prevent any fever ensuing from the wound, and determined to leave Nature herself to do what she could to relieve their patient, before they endeavoured to assist her by the resources of art. When they had done everything that they thought fit, they left one of their number in the chamber of the Duke, to watch every turn in his case; and then, accompanied by the confessor and myself, proceeded to visit the servants and soldiers who had been wounded. As we went, Father Ferdinand, I remarked, anxiously questioned the principal surgeon upon the state of Monsieur de Villardin, and as to whether there existed even a chance of immediate danger. The surgeon replied, that he saw none whatever. The hemorrhage, he said, having spontaneously ceased, showed that no great blood vessel had been injured, and that all that was now to be feared was subsequent inflammation taking place amongst some of the most delicate organs of the human frame. Satisfied with this assurance, Father Ferdinand only requested that immediate information might be given to him, on the first appearance of any dangerous symptom, reminding the surgeon that, as Monsieur de Villardin's confessor, he had very important duties to perform towards him, as soon as it was ascertained that he was in perilous circumstances. "I need not tell you, sir," he added, "that, with a man of Monsieur de Villardin's nerve, the knowledge that he is in danger would in no degree tend to impede his recovery."

The surgeon promised to give him timely notice; and, on visiting the other wounded persons, we found that only one was beyond hope, while all the rest bade fair for a speedy recovery. It may as well be mentioned here, that they all did recover but one, who--as well as the servant I had seen lying on the road, and another who had been killed in our conflict with the robbers--was buried a few days after, together with Suzette, in the chapel of the chÂteau.

The party of the guards from Rennes, who had arrived so promptly to our aid, remained at the PrÉs VallÉe all night; and, as it was late before all the events which I have mentioned had taken place, I sent up old Jerome Laborde to Laura's apartment to know whether she thought fit to come down to the supper table. She declined, however, as I had expected; and, as Father Ferdinand also retired to his own chamber, indisposed by all the scenes which he had just gone through to partake in anything like mirth or festivity, I was obliged to do the honours of Monsieur de Villardin's table to the Count de Laval and the commander of the guards from Rennes, though I would much rather have been permitted, in silence and solitude, to think over all the events that had occurred, and to offer up my thanks to Heaven for the change from the deepest misery to a state of happiness, which my bitter repinings, under a temporary affliction, had, I confess, but little deserved. The young officer, with all the thoughtless gaiety of his age and his profession, drank deep and sat long, and might indeed, have continued his carousings to a much later hour, if the Count, who, for a time, had been amused with his liveliness, at length getting tired, had not risen unceremoniously, and wished him good night. The young officer looked at me with a wistful glance, to see whether there was any chance of prolonging his potations with me; but my glass, which had long been vacant, gave him a sufficient reply, and, drinking one deep draught to our good repose, he once more visited his troop, and then betook himself to rest.

As all was won becoming quiet in the chÂteau, and, one after another, its different inhabitants were dropping off to their beds, I sought out my old friend Lise, and charged her with a message to her mistress, expressing a hope that I might have an interview with her the next day. Lise gave me, with a smile, the certain assurance of my request being complied with,--especially, she said, as she herself intended to go to Rennes, and her mistress would want some companion who knew how to take care of her. She was going on in the same strain, with a good deal of harmless conceit borne lightly forth to her tongue, on the full current of joy,--the floodgates of which had been opened in her heart by all the news she had received from her mistress--but some persons passing to their beds interrupted our conversation, and I proceeded once more to the apartments of Monsieur de Villardin. By means of his ante-chamber and dressing-room, I was enabled to enter without disturbing him; and, sitting quietly down by the surgeon, I remained the greater part of the night, anxious to see how it passed with his patient. At first he was somewhat restless, but towards morning he fell into a tranquil sleep; and, auguring better from all I now saw, than I had before fully permitted myself to hope, I left his apartments at about three o'clock, and retired to rest.