The St. Louis Republic., 1901-11-17
CHAPTER I.

Are the people all dead?" cried Pierre,
laundering with his stick on the heavy
door. These good Normandy folk have a
talent for snoring. 1 know ii of old"
Meanwhile my two aunts and 1 stood
shivering in the snow: The Diligence was
stuck in a drift some hundreds OF yards
away. but We had seen the steep roofs of
the Ferme de la Guaraye, and had come
TO seek aid, warmth and shelter.
At last a easement window opened. and
deep voice demanded. in strong Norman
French:
who is there? What dost thou want?''
I'VE want thee to get up and open to US. 90
responded our guard. Hasten thee, friend.
II thou wouldst not find dead corpses piled
against thy door"
But the man did not seem satisfied.
Doubtless. in these times of trouble. he
was unwilling to admit strangers.
Jacques Limonier. is Il not Jacques?"
cried Pierre. 1--WE are friends, Jacques
friends you will not be sorry to see. 1t is
i. Pierre Treflian, you have often given
me q meal of bread and cheese. and cider
Open your door. good Jacques. We are all
friends and friends in sore need, too"
Saints in heavenr' exclaimed the voice
from above. Monsieur Pierre. is it really
Monsieur Pierre?' Then almost directly the
heavy oaken door was flung back. and we
gladly thronged into the vast cavernous-
looking kitchen, with its stone-iagged floor
and dark rafters. Enter, enter my friends
said the farmer, who was a tall, powerful
man. with rugged face which remember
well. What. is It possible, Madame and
mademoiselle; and. ay. and Madame de
Tourelles also. and my young friend. Mon
siur Pierre?''
We needed no pressing to draw near the
great hearth. where the Fermiere uhe
farmers wife) was rousing up the smoIder-
ing ashes and casting on fresh wood.
My aunt took the good womans hands
in hers and looked into the sorrowful face.
'Ah, Madame Limonier.' she said gently,
do you not remember me? 1t is strange,
is 1t not, that am spared to return from
that terrible Parish For we had lived nigh
to the F'errne in the old days before the
revolution in 17ss. and knew all the coun-
tryside from the little town OF Villiers-
perched up on its steep promontory by the
seashore-to Coutances. But the cha teau
belonging to my uncle, the Marquis. had
been attacked and partly burned by tho
revolutionary mob. and We had fled first to
st. Malo and then TO Paris. where We had
suffered greatly. Pierre had been in Eng
land at the time. but had come to seek us.
and by almost a miracle We had been de-
livered from prison and death. and now
sought to escape to England. But first We
had come to the neighborhood of our old
home for a purpose, which shall be told
presently.
"Lebrun," said the Fermiere, in answer
to question of my aunt's. 'Oh, yes, Lee
brun bought the chateau and part of the
estate. Yes, but he Is dead!'
"Deadr'
Eyes. he offended one of the Revolution
ery Committee in some way, SO they ac-
cused him of not being earnest in the cause
of the Republic. He was guillotined few
days before the news came of Monsieur
Robespierres death. Had news travelled
quicker he might have been saved. But no.
body minded much. He was a churlish fell
low. and had done many bad turn when
he was your steward. madame"
Had her said my aunt. looking up
quickly. I'VE did not known
mo. you did not know" said the woman.
struggling her shoulders. mo. you were
never hard to the poor when you did
know. Not like the Seigneurs of the village
where lived as girl"
"And who has the chateau now7 said
my aunt
mo one is at the chateau now." said the
Fermiere-
My aunt looked at me and at her. 1
could not prevent fash of sladness. This
would help matters grandly.
And tell me-" said my aunt, does old
Monsieur Fargeau. the chemist, still live In
yiliers?"
'Fargeau. yes, indeed. And his daughter,
Gabrielle Laurence. Is back with him. She
lost her fine husband in Paris. and she and
her brother came creeping back here for
shelter and safety"
Her brother. Francois7' inquired my
aunt. while another startled glance passed
between US. What does he DOR
He does not do much at present." an
swered the woman. They say when things
grow quieter he means to go back to Paris;
but TIL he sees how things go he is afraid"
We could not sleep that night. The news
that Francois Fargeau and his sister were
in vilhers had discomposed us greatly. For
this Francois had wrought us indeed an III
turn when We were in Paris. throwing my
dear aunt. Madame de Haut-Doublets, into
prison and then making It a condition of
her release (which he pretended to have
power to effect that I should become his
wife. But that snare had escaped by the
mercy Of God. and we got safe out of that
terrible Conciergerie.
In the days at the beginning Of the revo- |
luton. when all mems minds were stirred |
by suspense and wonder, yea, and fear as |
to what was coming on the earth. we had |
been living mostly at tine chateau. But It |
became evident that we, too, might be |
forced to fly for refuge to the towns. And |
in preparation for that event my aunt had |
made up in small packet some Of her |
most valuable Jewels and a few OF the most |
important title deeds of the property. |
These she had placed for temporary safety /
in a secret receptacle in one Of the cham |
bers Of the chateau, a room to which she |
believed she could Immediately have access |
came. But through the treachery of one |
of the domestics, It was not so. Plunderers 4
were introduced into our house before the |
warning that flight was imperatively neces- /
sary reached US. the chamber containing |
that secret receptacle was invaded by them. /
we had to fly, leaving that little hoard of I
valuables In its hiding place. And now my !
aunt was unwilling to quit France and !
leave that little packet to Its fate.
But this news, that Fargeau was In the /
troubled US strangely.
cHaPTFR IT