"Gabrielle," said the young man, gathering strength from his despair, "I shall know how to resist my father."He kissed her on the forehead, but not again upon the lips. Then he returned to the castle, resolved to face the terrible man who had weighed so fearfully on his life. He did not know that Gabrielle's house would be surrounded and guarded by soldiers the moment that he quitted it.
The next day he was struck down with grief when, on going to see her, he found her a prisoner. But Gabrielle sent her nurse to tell him she would die sooner than be false to him; and, moreover, that she knew a way to deceive the guards, and would soon take refuge in the cardinal's library, where no one would suspect her presence, though she did not as yet know when she could accomplish it. Etienne on that returned to his room, where all the forces of his heart were spent in the dreadful suspense of waiting.
At three o'clock on the afternoon of that day the equipages of the duke and suite entered the courtyard of the castle. Madame la Comtesse de Grandlieu, leaning on the arm of her daughter, the duke and Marquise de Noirmoutier mounted the grand staircase in silence, for the stern brow of the master had awed the servants. Though Baron d'Artagnon now knew that Gabrielle had evaded his guards, he assured the duke she was a prisoner, for he trembled lest his own private scheme should fail if the duke were angered by this flight. Those two terrible faces--his and the duke's--wore a fierce expression that was ill-disguised by an air of gallantry imposed by the occasion. The duke had already sent to his son, ordering him to be present in the salon.
When the company entered it, d'Artagnon saw by the downcast look on Etienne's face that as yet he did not know of Gabrielle's escape.
"This is my son," said the old duke, taking Etienne by the hand and presenting him to the ladies.
Etienne bowed without uttering a word. The countess and Mademoiselle de Grandlieu exchanged a look which the old man intercepted.
"Your daughter will be ill-matched--is that your thought?" he said in a low voice.
"I think quite the contrary, my dear duke," replied the mother, smiling.
The Marquise de Noirmoutier, who accompanied her sister, laughed significantly. That laugh stabbed Etienne to the heart; already the sight of the tall lady had terrified him.
"Well, Monsieur le duc," said the duke in a low voice and assuming a lively air, "have I not found you a handsome wife? What do you say to that slip of a girl, my cherub?"The old duke never doubted his son's obedience; Etienne, to him, was the son of his mother, of the same dough, docile to his kneading.
"Let him have a child and die," thought the old man; "little I care.""Father," said the young man, in a gentle voice, "I do not understand you.""Come into your own room, I have a few words to say to you," replied the duke, leading the way into the state bedroom.
Etienne followed his father. The three ladies, stirred with a curiosity that was shared by Baron d'Artagnon, walked about the great salon in a manner to group themselves finally near the door of the bedroom, which the duke had left partially open.
"Dear Benjamin," said the duke, softening his voice, "I have selected that tall and handsome young lady as your wife; she is heiress to the estates of the younger branch of the house of Grandlieu, a fine old family of Bretagne. Therefore make yourself agreeable; remember all the love-****** you have read of in your books, and learn to make pretty speeches.""Father, is it not the first duty of a nobleman to keep his word?""Yes."
