“If things go right with the Emperor,” said Despienne, “we shall all live to be marshals yet.”
We drank with him to our future cocked hats and our bâtons.
It was agreed between us that we should make our way separately to our rendezvous, which was to be the first milestone upon the Paris road. In this way we should avoid the gossip which might get about if three men who were so well known were to be seen riding out together. My little Violette had cast a shoe that morning, and the farrier was at work upon her when I returned, so that my comrades were already there when I arrived at the trysting-place. I had taken with me not only my sabre, but also my new pair of English rifled pistols, with a mallet for knocking in the charges. They had cost me a hundred and fifty francs at Trouvel’s, in the Rue de Rivoli, but they would carry far further and straighter than the others. It was with one of them that I had saved old Bouvet’s life at Leipzig.
The night was cloudless, and there was a brilliant moon behind us, so that we always had three black horsemen riding down the white road in front of us. The country is so thickly wooded, however, that we could not see very far. The great palace clock had already struck ten, but there was no sign of the Countess. We began to fear that something might have prevented her from starting.
And then suddenly we heard her in the distance. Very faint at first were the birr of wheels and the tat-tat-tat of the horses’ feet. Then they grew louder and clearer and louder yet, until a pair of yellow lanterns swung round the curve, and in their light we saw the two big brown horses tearing along the high, blue carriage at the back of them. The postilion pulled them up panting and foaming within a few yards of us. In a moment we were at the window and had raised our hands in a salute to the beautiful pale face which looked out at us.
“We are the three officers of the Emperor, madame,” said I, in a low voice, leaning my face down to the open window. “You have already been warned that we should wait upon you.”
The Countess had a very beautiful, cream-tinted complexion of a sort which I particularly admire, but she grew whiter and whiter as she looked up at me. Harsh lines deepened upon her face until she seemed, even as I looked at her, to turn from youth into age.
“It is evident to me,” she said, “that you are three impostors.”
If she had struck me across the face with her delicate hand she could not have startled me more. It was not her words only, but the bitterness with which she hissed them out.
“Indeed, madame,” said I. “You do us less than justice. These are the Colonel Despienne and Captain Tremeau. For myself, my name is Brigadier Gerard, and I have only to mention it to assure anyone who has heard of me that—”
“Oh, you villains!” she interrupted. “You think that because I am only a woman I am very easily to be hoodwinked! You miserable impostors!”
I looked at Despienne, who had turned white with anger, and at Tremeau, who was tugging at his moustache.
“Madame,” said I, coldly, “when the Emperor did us the honour to entrust us with this mission, he gave me this amethyst ring as a token. I had not thought that three honourable gentlemen would have needed such corroboration, but I can only confute your unworthy suspicions by placing it in your hands.”
She held it up in the light of the carriage lamp, and the most dreadful expression of grief and of horror contorted her face.
“It is his!” she screamed, and then, “Oh, my God, what have I done? What have I done?”
I felt that something terrible had befallen. “Quick, madame, quick!” I cried. “Give us the papers!”
“I have already given them.”
“Given them! To whom?”
“To three officers.”
“When?”
“Within the half-hour.”
“Where are they?”
“God help me, I do not know. They stopped the berline, and I handed them over to them without hesitation, thinking that they had come from the Emperor.”
It was a thunderclap. But those are the moments when I am at my finest.
“You remain here,” said I, to my comrades. “If three horsemen pass you, stop them at any hazard. The lady will describe them to you. I will be with you presently.” One shake of the bridle, and I was flying into Fontainebleau as only Violette could have carried me. At the palace I flung myself off, rushed up the stairs, brushed aside the lackeys who would have stopped me, and pushed my way into the Emperor’s own cabinet. He and McDonald were busy with pencil and compasses over a chart. He looked up with an angry frown at my sudden entry, but his face changed colour when he saw that it was I.
“You can leave us, Marshal,” said he, and then, the instant the door was closed: “What news about the papers?”
“They are gone!” said I, and in a few curt words I told him what had happened. His face was calm, but I saw the compasses quiver in his hand.
“You must recover them, Gerard!” he cried. “The destinies of my dynasty are at stake. Not a moment is to be lost! To horse, sir, to horse!”
“Who are they, sire?”
“I cannot tell. I am surrounded with treason. But they will take them to Paris. To whom should they carry them but to the villain Talleyrand? Yes, yes, they are on the Paris road, and may yet be overtaken. With the three best mounts in my stables and—”
I did not wait to hear the end of the sentence. I was already clattering down the stair. I am sure that five minutes had not passed before I was galloping Violette out
