CHAPTER VI.
We must now conduct the reader at once to the entrance of the castle ofMasseran. The gate itself was shut, though the drawbridge was down andthe portcullis was up. There was a little wicket, indeed, left ajar,showing the long, dark perspective of the heavy archway under the gatetower, gloomy and prison-like, and the large square court beyond, withits white stones glistening in the sun; while the gray walls of thecastle and part of a window, as well as the door of the keep, appearedat the opposite side. On either side, under the archway, but scarcely tobe seen in its gloomy shadow, was a long bench, and on the left hand alow door leading up to the apartments in the gate tower. The right-handbench was occupied by one of the soldiers of the place, and at the doorwas the warder's wife talking to him, while our friend, the jovialpriest, who had escaped without harm or hinderance, notwithstanding thethreats of the Count de Meyrand, was waiting at the wicket, from time totime looking through into the court, and from time to time turning roundand gazing upon the mountains, humming an air which was certainly not acanticle.
After a pause of some ten or fifteen minutes, the warder himselfappeared, a heavy man, past the middle age, and dressed in rusty gray."He won't see you, Father Willand," he said. "He's walking in the innercourt, and in a dangerous sort of mood. I would rather not be the man tocross him now."
"Poh! nonsense," replied Father Willand, laughing. "Go in again to him,good warder: tell him I have business of importance with him, and I knowthat this refusal is only one of his sweet jokes. He will see me,soft-hearted gentleman! Go and tell him--go and tell him, warder!"
"Faith, not I," replied the warder. "That business of last night seemsto have galled him sorely, and he is just in the humour to fire a manout of a culverin, as we know his father once did; but in these days itwon't do: culverins make too loud a report, you know. I will not go nearhim again."
"Then I will go myself," replied the priest. "He won't hurt me. Nay,warder, you would not squeeze the Church in the wicket gateway! ByHeaven--or, as I should say less profanely, by the blessed rood--if youpinch my stomach one moment more you will pinch forth an anathema, whichwill leave you but a poor creature all your life."
"Well, be it on your head," cried the warder, with a grim smile; "thougha two-inch cudgel or a fall from the battlements is the best thing to behoped for you."
The priest was not to be deterred, however; and, making his way onward,he crossed the outer court, turned to the right, and, passing through along stone passage, feeling damp and chilly after the bright sunshine,he entered a colonnade or sort of cloister which surrounded the innercourt. It was a large, open space of ground, with tall buildingsovershadowing it on all sides. The sun seldom reached it; and there wasa coldness and stillness about its aspect altogether--its gray stones,its small windows, its low-arched cloisters, its sunless air, and thewant of even the keen activity of the mountain wind--which made mostpeople shudder when they entered it.
But there was nothing the least chilly in the nature of Father Willand.His heart was not easily depressed, his spirits not easily damped; andwhen he entered the cloister, and saw the Lord of Masseran walking upand down in the court, an irresistible inclination to laugh seized him,notwithstanding all the warder had said of his lord's mood at thatmoment.
It is true--although, from the description of the worthy officer ofbolts and bars, one would have expected to see the Lord of Masseranacting some wild scene of passion--he was, on the contrary, walkingcalmly and slowly backward and forward across the court, with his eyesbent on the ground, indeed, but with his countenance perfectly tranquil.It was nothing in his demeanour, however, that gave the priest a desireto laugh, for he was very well aware that the passions of the Lord ofMasseran did not take the same appearances as those of other men, and hesaw clearly that he was at that moment in a state of sullen fury, whichmight, very likely, have conducted any other man to some absurd excess.His personal appearance, also, had nothing in it to excite mirth in anydegree. He was a tall, thin, graceful-looking man of the middle age,with a nose slightly aquiline, eyes calm and mild, lips somewhat thinand pale, and a complexion, very common in the northern part of Italy,of a sort of clear, pale olive. His dress was handsome, but notostentatious; and, on the whole, he looked very much the nobleman andthe man of the world of those times. The priest, however, laughed whenhe saw him; and, though he tried to smother it under the merryaffectation of a cough, yet the effects were too evident upon hiscountenance to escape the eye of the Lord of Masseran as he approached.
"Ha! Father Willand," said the marquis, as their eyes met, "I told thewarder to say that I did not wish to see you to-day."
"Ah, but, my excellent good lord," replied the priest, bowing his headlow, with an air of mock humility and reverence, "it was I who wanted tosee your lordship; so I e'en ventured to make my way in, though thewarder--foul fall the villain--has so squeezed my stomach in the wicket,that, like a bruised tin pot, it will never again hold so much as it didbefore."
"You are somewhat of a bold man," said the marquis, with a cold, bitter,sidelong look at the priest; "you are somewhat of a bold man to makeyour way in here when I bid you stay out. You may come in once toooften, Father Willand."
"Heaven forbid, my lord," replied the priest; "I shall never think ittoo often to serve your lordship, even though it should be at yourfuneral: a sad duty that, my lord, which we must perform very often forour best friends."
"I should imagine, priest," replied the marquis, somewhat sternly, "youwould laugh at the funeral of your best friends."
"I will promise your lordship one thing," replied the priest, "to laughat my own, if death will but let me. But surely, my lord, this is a timefor merriment and gayety! Why, I came to congratulate your lordship uponyour escape from those who attacked you last night--Ugh! ugh! ugh!"
While the priest, unable to restrain himself, thus laughed aloud, themarquis bit his lip, and eyed him askance, with a look which certainlyboded no great good to the merry ecclesiastic. They were at that momentclose to a spot where a door opened from one of the masses of buildinginto the cloister, and the Lord of Masseran, raising his voice a little,exclaimed, in a sweet Italian tone, "Geronimo!"
For a moment the priest laughed more heartily than before; but, seeingthe marquis about to repeat his call, he recovered himself, and, layinghis finger on the nobleman's arm, said, "Stay a moment, my lord, stay amoment before you call him. First, because the sweet youth must notexercise his ministry upon me. It would make too much noise, you know,and every one in the valley is aware that I have come hither. Next,because there are certain friends of mine looking for me at the bottomof the slope, and expecting me within half an hour, so that I cannotenjoy your Geronimo's conversation--"
"It is, in general, very short," said the marquis.
"And, thirdly," continued the priest, "because I have come up to tellyou two or three things which require no witnesses. I am here upon afriendly errand, my good lord, and you are such a niggard that yourefuse me my laugh. However, I must have it, be it at you, at myself, orat any one else; and now, if you behave well and civilly, I will tellyou tidings that you may like well to hear. If you don't want to hearthem, I will take myself away again, and then neither priest nor warderis much to blame. Shall I go?"
He spoke seriously now, and the Lord of Masseran replied, in a somewhatmore placable tone, a moment's reflection showing him that the priest,in all probability, would not have come thither except upon someimportant errand: "No, do not go," he said, "but speak to me, at least,seriously." He looked down upon the ground for a moment, and then added,"You may well think that I am angry, after all that took place lastnight; for you, who hear everything, have doubtless heard of that also."
As he spoke, he suddenly raised his keen dark eyes to the countenance ofthe priest, as if inquiring how much he really did know of the matter inquestion.
"Oh yes," replied Father Willand, "I do hear everything, my good lord,and I knew all that had happened to you last night before I sa
t down tomy breakfast this morning: I heard of your happy deliverance, too, fromthe hands of the daring villains who captured you, for which graciousinterposition I trust that you will keep a candle burning perpetuallybefore the shrine of Saint Maurice."
The priest spoke in a serious tone, but still there was an expressivegrin upon his countenance; and, after pausing for a moment or two more,he added, as the marquis was about to reply, "You think I am jesting, orthat I do not understand what I am talking about; but I know the wholebusiness as well as you do yourself, and somewhat better. I tell you,therefore, that it is a great deliverance that you have met with, thoughperhaps you think it less a deliverance than an interruption."
The priest paused as if for the marquis to reply; but the Lord ofMasseran was silent also, regarding his companion with a quiet, sly,inquiring air, which, perhaps, could be assumed by no other countenanceupon earth than that of an Italian. It might be interpreted to say, "Youare more in my secrets than I thought. A new bond of fellowship isestablished between us."
As he remained actually silent, however, the priest went on to say,"What I come to talk to you about is this very matter; for you maychance be outwitted, my good lord, even where you are putting sometrust. But what I have to say," he continued, "had better not be saidamong so many windows and doors."
"Come with me! come with me!" said the Lord of Masseran; and leading theway through the cloisters, he thridded several long and intricatepassages, none of them more than dimly lighted, and many of themprofoundly dark. He was followed by the priest, who kept his hand in thebosom of his robe, and, if the truth must be said, grasped somewhatfirmly the hilt of a dagger, never feeling perfectly sure what was to bethe next of the Marquis of Masseran's sweet courtesies. Nothingoccurred, however, to interrupt him in his course, and at length thelord of the castle stopped opposite to a doorway, over which aglimmering light found its way. As soon as it was opened, the brightbeams of the day rushed in, and the marquis led the way into a widegarden, which sloped down the side of the hill, and lay between thewalls of the castle itself and an outwork thrown forward to command oneof the passes of the mountain. It was walled on all sides, and nothingcould be seen beyond it; but in itself it offered a beautiful contrastto the wild scenery round, being cultivated with great care andneatness, and arranged in the Italian style of gardening, which was thenvery little known in France, where it had been first introduced someyears before by Catharine de Medicis. Long and broad terraces, connectedtogether by flights of steps, formed the part of the garden nearest tothe chateau, while below appeared many a formal walk, sheltered, even inthat mountain scene, by rows of tall cypresses and hedges of otherevergreen plants.
"Here we can speak undisturbed," said the marquis, as soon as he hadtaken a few steps in advance. "Now what is it you have to tell me,priest?"
"Did you ever hear of such a person as Bernard de Rohan?" demanded thepriest, fixing his eyes upon the countenance of the Lord of Masseran.
"I have--I have heard of him," replied the marquis, turning somewhatpale. "What of him? what of him? Is he not still beyond the Alps?"
"He is within a few leagues of your dwelling," answered the priest.
"I thought so, I thought so," exclaimed the Lord of Masseran, strikinghis brow with his hand. "But he shall find he has come too soon."
"You must take heed what you do," replied the priest, grinning. "Did youever hear how the fox vowed vengeance against the lion, and was wroth,and forgot his cunning, and flew at the lion's muzzle, and the lion puthis paw upon him, and squeezed the breath out of the poor fox's body? Myvery good lord, you do not know that this Bernard de Rohan hasmen-at-arms at his back, and despatches to you from the Marechal deBrissac, which may not be pleasant for you to receive; and, moreover, heis a great friend of a certain Count de Meyrand, and they have beenconferring earnestly together both last night and this morning, and thename of the Lord of Masseran was more than once mentioned. So now, myson, you see what is going forward, and must take your measuresaccordingly."
The wily Piedmontese sunk back into himself as he heard the unpalatabletidings communicated to him. From the few significant words which thepriest had spoken, it was evident enough to the Lord of Masseran that,by some means or another, all the plans and purposes in which he wasengaged in at the time were nearly as well known to the personage withwhom he was then conversing as to himself, and yet he could not bringhimself to speak with him freely thereupon. He wanted advice. He wantedassistance. The priest appeared to know more than he said; and, toarrive at certainty upon that point, the Marquis of Masseran now appliedhimself with all the skill and shrewdness of which he was master; but ingood Father Willand he met with more than his match; for, with equaldexterity and shrewdness, the ecclesiastic had resources which the Lordof Masseran himself had not. He could evade a question by a laugh, or ajest, or a figure, or a pun, and never did diplomatist more skilfullyturn and double in a conference than he did in his conversation with theMarquis of Masseran.
At length, driven to speak more clearly, the marquis paused suddenly onthe terrace across which they were walking, and, fronting the priest,demanded abruptly and sternly, "Tell me, then--tell me what is thissituation in which you say I am placed, which you always allude to andnever explain. Tell me this, and tell me how I shall meet the danger,or, by the powers of Heaven and hell, you shall never quit this placealive."
"A pretty and a sweet persuasion," exclaimed the priest, laughingheartily; "but, my dear son, I am not so easily killed, even if suchparricidal thoughts were anything more than a jest. You know not what atough morsel an old priest is: hard of mastication for even strongerteeth than yours. Nay, nay, think of tenderer food! In other terms, askme pleasantly and civilly, my good son, and you may then chance toreceive an answer. If you were to kill me forty times over it would doyou no good. My secrets are like the goose's golden eggs: not to be gotat by slaughter."
"There is something that you want, priest," replied the marquis, in thesame abrupt tone. "Quick! tell me what it is; if it be anything inreason, you shall have it."
The priest smiled with a meaning look, but thought for a moment or twobefore he replied; for, to say the truth, he had not, in his own mind,fixed upon that which he was to demand as his recompense. He had, it istrue, an object in view, and the chief means of attaining that objectwas to persuade the Marquis of Masseran that he dealt with him truly andsincerely. Now he well knew that the mind of the worthy lord was soconstituted that it could by no means be brought to conceive that anyman dealt honestly with another, unless he had some personal object togain by so doing, and, therefore, the priest determined to assign suchan object, although he was, in reality, without one. "Well," he said,"well, you shall promise me, most solemnly, first, not to tell any onewhat I reveal to you; and also, if you find that what I tell you istrue, and if the way that I point out to you prove successful, you shallgive the priest of the church of Saint John of Bonvoison a fat buck inAugust every year when he chooses to send for it; you shall also givehim a barrel of wine of your best vintage, and five silver pieces foralms to the poor, and this in perpetuity."
"Fy, now, fy!" replied the Lord of Masseran; "for your own life werequite enough; but in perpetuity, that is more than I can engage for: itis owning your vassalage, good father."
"It must be even so, though," replied the priest, "or you have not mysecret. I care not for venison, sinner that I am, it is the good of theChurch I think of."
"Well! well!" answered the Lord of Masseran, "most disinterested father,I give my promise; and now be quick, for I expect a visiter full soon,my dealings with whom may depend upon your words: what is it that Ishould fear?"
"That Adrian, count of Meyrand," said the priest, "and Bernard, baron deRohan, laying their heads together for their own special purposes--"
"That can never be, that can never be," cried the marquis, with a scoff."They both love the same woman. They both seek her. They can as soonunite as oil and water. No, no, that is all vain!" and he turned awaywith
a sneer.
"Suppose," said the priest, smiling in a way that again shook theMarquis of Masseran's feelings of security, "suppose that the one shouldlove her money and the other herself, and they should agree to settle itthus: We will prove to the King of France that the Lord of Masseranholds secret communication with the Duke of Savoy and the EmperorFerdinand. Suppose this were the case, I say, do you think, my son, thatthere would be any chance of their really proving it? Could the nobleCount of Meyrand say boldly that, to his knowledge, the Lord of Masseranconspired secretly with some troops of Savoy, to carry off, as if byforce, himself, the Lord of Masseran, and Mademoiselle de Brienne, forspecial purposes of his own, somewhat treasonable towards France, onlythat the scheme was defeated by an accident? Could Bernard de Rohan saythat he had seen the Lord of Masseran in the hands of his captors, goingalong with no great signs of unwillingness, and showing no great signsof gratitude to those who set him free."
"Was he there?" exclaimed the Lord of Masseran, eagerly. "What, a youthin a buff coat? By Heaven, his eyes have been haunting me all night. Heseemed to look through me."
"The same person," replied the priest, with a loud laugh; "and he didsee through you, my son. You have been very transparent lately. I ask noquestions, but put it to yourself whether these two gentlemen can saythese things to the King of France. Then may not the one say, 'Sire, Ilove this girl, and have got her father's promise for her hand; here isher brother, too, consents to our marriage: I claim as my reward yourgood-will and approbation.' Then may not the other say, 'Sire, the Lordof Masseran, as I have showed you, betrays your trust. He has faircastles and fortresses, beautiful lands and lordships, vineyards,olive-grounds, cornfields: I pray you, in return for having discoveredhis dealings with the empire, put me in possession of his lands and hislordships till your majesty shall think fit to conclude a peace.'"
The Lord of Masseran looked moodily down upon the ground; and though, tosay the truth, he did not yet put great faith in the priest's sincerity,he asked briefly, "Well, what remedy? How is this to be avoided?"
"That," replied the priest, "for certain I cannot tell you; but I cantell you what I would do were you Father Willand and I Marquis ofMasseran. I would order horses to be saddled and grooms to be prepared,and by the most silent, secret, and sudden way, I would betake myself toParis, cast myself at the king's feet, accuse this Count of Meyrand ofseeking to corrupt me, tell him that Savoy had offered me bribes, and,failing there, had striven to carry me off. I would do all this, andthen--"
"Hush!" said the Lord of Masseran, "hush! here is some one coming toseek me:" and, leaving the priest, he advanced a few steps towards aservant who now approached from the house. The marquis asked a questionin a low tone, to which the other replied, loud enough for FatherWilland to hear,
"He will not come within the gates, sir, but desires to speak with youfor a moment without: he says he is but in his hunting-garb, andunfitted to enter your halls."
"How many men has he with him?" demanded the Lord of Masseran.
"No one but a page, my lord, near the gates," replied the man. "The restI saw gathered together about a mile down the road, on the other side ofthe valley."
"I will come!" said the Lord of Masseran, "I will come!" and he added,in a lower tone, some words which the priest did not hear, but which hejudged had reference to himself, from perceiving the eyes of thespeakers turned more than once shrewdly towards him. "I will be backagain in a few minutes, good father," the Lord of Masseran continued."Wait for me, for we have yet much to speak of."
"I will wait, I will wait," replied the priest; "only be not long, mygood son; for, though I have much to say to you, I have little time tospare."
The Lord of Masseran gave him every assurance that he would returnspeedily; and then left the garden, followed by the attendant who hadsummoned him. The priest looked after them and listened; and, beingsomeway connected with the race of that gentleman called in historyFine-ear, he distinctly heard the door by which he and the marquis hadentered the garden locked after the latter had quitted it. "There isanother door," he muttered to himself, with a smile, looking towards oneof the archways upon the terrace leading to the chateau.
The next instant, however, there was a sound from that quarter also, asif somebody turned the key there likewise; but the priest continued tosmile notwithstanding, and, proceeding slowly along the terraces, as ifmerely to amuse himself by a walk, he approached the thick wall of thegarden, and stopped at the entrance of one of those little guerites, orwatch-towers, with which the whole enclosure was studded from place toplace. Up the narrow staircase in the stone he made his way, and thenlooked carefully out through the loophole which was turned towards thechief entrance of the chateau. No living object, however, was to be seenin the immediate neighbourhood of the castle itself; though, as theattendant had said, about a mile down the road which passed through thevalley was a group of men, and horses, and dogs gathered together invarious listless attitudes, while two large eagles were seen whirling inimmense circles high up above the tops of the mountains, upon the lowerpart of whose tall sides a flock of sheep appeared feeding in peacefultranquillity.
"I may as well go," said the priest to himself, as he gazed out uponthis quiet scene. "I have said all that it is necessary to say, and thissweet lord may not have done all that he may think it necessary to do. Ilike not his whisperings, so I may as well go."
But, as the priest thus murmured to himself, he looked out again in thesame direction, when two persons came slowly forth from behind an angleof one of the towers, and, taking their way under the garden wall,approached the very spot where Father Willand stood. There was nodifficulty in recognising the Lord of Masseran and the Count de Meyrand."Now what would I give," murmured the priest to himself, "for one ofthose famous inventions--those ear-trumpets--those sound-catchers--whichwe read about in old histories."
The good priest, however, possessed none such; and though his ears, aswe have said, were very sharp; though he thrust his head as far as hecould into the loophole; though the count and his companion, thinkingthat no one observed them, spoke loudly and vehemently; and though theypassed directly under the turret where the priest stood, nevertheless,the words that he could catch were very few. "Well, my good lord, well,"said the Lord of Masseran, "you blame me without cause. I have done mybest, and am as disappointed as you are."
"I do not blame you," replied the other; "I only tell you what must bethe result if the plans you have proposed cannot be carried throughimmediately."
"Not that I have proposed, not that I have proposed," replied the other;"the suggestion was your own."
"Indeed!" said the Count de Meyrand, "this is something new to me. All Iknow is, that I have got the whole of your scheme drawn out in your ownhand; the names false, indeed, or written in cipher, but for that wewill soon find a key. What I asked was this, either that you should payme the large debt you owe, or that you should give me such assistance inmy suit to Mademoiselle de Brienne as would enable me to call her mywife within two months. Those two months have now wellnigh expired, andI will be trifled with no more."
The latter part of this sentence was lost to the ear of the priest; buthe guessed what it must be; and certainly the slight portion that he hadheard gave him a very strong inclination to hear more. He paused, then,to consider whether this could be accomplished by any possible means,but it was evident that such could not be the case; for, even while heturned the matter in his mind, the little path along which the Marquisde Masseran and his companion walked led them farther and farther fromthe wall of the garden. We must now, however, follow the two noblemen,and leave the priest to his fate, which we shall very speedily see.
"Well, well, my good friend," replied the Marquis de Masseran, in answerto the last observation of the count, "the time has not yet fullyexpired, and it shall be your own fault if my promise is not completelyfulfilled."
"How can it be my fault?" said the count. "I have nothing to do with thefulfilment of your promi
se."
"Yes, you have," answered the Marquis of Masseran: "I will give you themeans; but if any pitiful scruple, any lady-like hesitation upon yourpart, prevents you from employing them, the fault is your own."
"Mark me now, my good lord," replied the count: "it was understoodbetween us that I was to have no share in anything contrary to myallegiance to the crown of France. With your own plans I had nothing todo. If you chose to give the agents of the empire an opportunity ofmaking you a prisoner, and taking possession of your fortresses forreasons and with purposes best known to yourself, I had nothing to dowith that: that was your own affair; I would be in no degree implicatedwith it; I would receive no bribes from Savoy or Austria," he continued,with a sneer; "all I agreed to do was to rescue the lady, if, on anyoccasion, I were informed that she was travelling as a prisoner betweenFort Covert and Brianzone. This I promised to do, and I should have hadno scruple then to use my opportunities to the best advantage."
The Lord of Masseran smiled with a meaning look, which his companioneasily interpreted. The count added with a frown, "You mistake me: Iwould have done her no wrong, sir! Though I would have taken care tokeep her so long with me that she could give her hand to no one else, Iwould have treated her with all honour."
"Doubtless, doubtless," replied the Lord of Masseran; "but what I meannow, my lord count, is, that if I again, at a great risk to myself, giveyou good opportunity, you will have no hesitation in using a littlegentle force to compel this lady's union with yourself. We have priestsenough who will perform the ceremony with a deaf ear to theremonstrances that her reluctance and maiden modesty may suggest; butwhen we have carried the matter so far as that, remember that my safety,nay, my life itself, may be compromised if you yield to any weaksupplications. Once commit ourselves, and our only safety is in herbeing your wife! Then she will be silent for her own sake."
"By Heavens," said the count, in a deep, low tone, "she shall be my wifeif it be but in revenge for the scorn with which she treated me inParis. If it costs the lives of her and me, and all our kin, she shallbe mine, Lord of Masseran."
"So be it, then," replied the marquis; "but, to accomplish my newscheme, I must be absent some few days."
The count gazed upon him somewhat suspiciously. "Some few days?" hesaid. "What! long enough, marquis, to go to Paris or Vienna?"
"Neither," replied the Marquis of Masseran, coolly. "Three days willsuffice, if well used. In three days I will be back again."
"And in those three days," replied the count, "this Bernard de Rohan,whom we were talking about just now, will have fair opportunity ofvisiting the bright lady, and even, perhaps, by the connivance of herfair mother, may carry her within the French frontier, and plead herfather's promise at the court of the king."
"Not by her mother's connivance," replied the marquis. "Her mother loveshim as little as you do; and, even were he at the court of Franceto-morrow, her protest against the marriage would be sufficient to stopit. But, to guard against all danger, and, if possible, to put the mindof a suspicious man at ease, I will tell you that one great cause of mygoing hence is to prevent this Bernard de Rohan from setting foot withinmy walls. I know his coming: I know why he comes far better than you do.I have heard his motives and his views within this hour from one who iswell acquainted with them, and, if he present himself at my gates, hewill find a stern refusal till I return. Then I must see him, but Ishall then be prepared. Will this satisfy you? If it do so, tell me atonce; for it is high time that I should mount my horse, and quit thisplace without delay."
Though, in reality, anything but satisfied, the Count de Meyrandexpressed his consent to the proposal, determined in his own mind towatch all the proceedings of a confederate whom he could so littletrust, even in the dark and tortuous schemes in which their interestswere combined. He tried, as he parted from the marquis, to conceal hisdoubts lest they should betray his purposes; but that worthy gentlemanwas far too practised a reader of the human heart and human countenanceto be so deceived; and when they separated, it was with the fullconviction that each would endeavour to deceive and circumvent theother, unless some strong necessity continued to bind them together.
"Now," thought the Marquis de Masseran, as he paused for a momentlooking after the Count de Meyrand, "now for this priest. I must havemore information from him: more full, more complete. Then what is to bedone with him? It might be dangerous to confine him; and yet it wereeasy to say that he had held treasonable discourses. A fall from thewalls might be as good as anything. I will speak with Geronimo aboutit."
He had been standing with his back towards the castle and his eyes fixedupon the ground while he thus held parley with himself. On the otherside of the valley, which was there profound, rose up the mountain, withthe road into Piedmont winding along it, at the distance of perhaps aquarter of a mile, to use the ordinary expression, as the crow flies,but fully a mile by the road; and, as he ended his murmuring soliloquy,the Marquis of Masseran looked up in that direction. To his uttersurprise and consternation when he did so, he beheld the figure of thepriest walking quietly along the highway towards the lower ground ofSavoy.
He hastened back to the castle; but he was assured at the gates by allthe several persons who were standing there that no one had passed. Onexamining the doors of the garden, every one of them was found to beclosed; and the Marquis of Masseran came to a conclusion, which was notpleasant for a man engaged in his peculiar pursuits, namely, that he wasdeceived and betrayed by some one of his own household.
Corse de Leon; or, The Brigand: A Romance. Volume 1 (of 2) Page 6