War Zone

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

He tried to tell himself it was all an illusion, and yet he knew, even as he formulated the excuse, that it. was not true.

As if impatient at the very hours he had spent in sleep, Armand got out of bed with a swiftness and determination which was very unlike his usual languid movements.

After breakfasting he walked out into the cobbled village streets where the peasants were busy marketing their wares.

Oblivious of the curious glances turned towards him, Armand walked through the village the way he had travelled the night before until he reached the narrow road bordered by the high wall.

This time instead of turning left he went right, fol lowing the wall until he came to some huge iron gates flanked by stone columns and surmounted by heraldic devices.

Through the gates was a drive, untidy and overgrown with weeds, but bordered by a magnificent avenue of poplars.

At the far end of them stood the Château. It was very impressive in the morning sunshine, its towers and turrets glittering against the blue sky, its windows flash ing as iridescently as the lake which encompassed it about on three sides.

Armand stood staring at it for some time, then turn ing walked slowly back to the Inn. The Patron was nowhere to be seen, but finding his way from the front of the house to the back.

Armand discovered the Innkeeper's wife in a big low-ceilinged kitchen, plucking a couple of ducklings. "Bonjour, Monsieur," she said, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him, her expression one of admiration as he bowed his head to enter the low doorway.

"Bonjour, Madame," Armand replied. "Tell me, what is the name of the aunt who chaperons the Comtesse Rêve de Valmont?"

"Madame la Duchesse de Malessene," she replied. "Great-Aunt she is to the little one and of a great age, Monsieur, but she has all her faculties about her. My own niece, who works at the Château, tells me that nothing escapes her eagle eye. Yes indeed, she is of the old school and there are not many like them these days."

"Why, Citoyenne, would you praise the aristocrats?"

Armand teased.

He noticed that she glanced over her shoulder as if

in fear before she laughed back at him.

"I'm not saying I regret the old days, Monsieur," she said. "We would be ingrates indeed to do so when our beloved Emperor has made France the greatest na tion on the earth and the most feared. But there are some who take advantage of the new conditions and the new freedom.

"It's all very well to do away with religion and all the old rules by which we were brought up, but are the young people any better for it? That's what I some times ask myself."

She finished plucking one duck, trussed it and set it

down on the table; then she took up the other.

"I've no quarrel with those who live at the Château," she said. "The Count was kind enough to my family and the little Comtesse has never been anything but an angel. God bless her! But you'll find some in this vil lage, Monsieur, who are murmuring against the Em peror himself because he gave the Château back to the de Valmonts."

"I imagine they would not dare do anything else but murmur?" Armand asked.

"Indeed not," was the reply. "Who are they, one

would like to know, to question the Emperor's de cisions? There's impudence for you, and ingratitude! But as I've said often enough to my own good man, you can give some people fine positions and fine clothes, but you won't make them any better than the pigs they were when they were born." "True

enough," Armand said gravely, "And there is no one else at the Château but the Comtesse and her Great-Aunt?" "No one at the moment, I believe, Monsieur, except

Antoinette." "And who is Antoinette?" Armand inquired.

"Oh, she is only a servant, but a character-a real character. Nurse she was to the little Comtesse when she was born, and when the Terror came she smuggled her out of the Château at the very moment when the citizens were storming the gates.

"No one knew what had happened to the pauvre petite for many years, but Antoinette kept her safe, al though it's said they roamed the country-side like gip sies. Then two years ago the blessed Emperor gives the Château back to the little Comtesse and the old house comes to life again."

"It's almost like a fairy story," Armand said, "and let us hope it has a happy ending." Madame laughed.

"Ah-ha," she said roguishly. "Monsieur would have my story finish with a romance. Well, Monsieur will not be disappointed, for 'tis whispered that the little Com tesse is soon to be affianced to a very great gentleman and one of vast importance."

"Indeed."

Armand's tone was cold. The heat of the kitchen, the scent of the cooking were suddenly nauseating. He turned towards the door, yawning as he went, and Ma dame stared after him with a puzzled expression as he left without another word.

On leaving the kitchen Armand went purposefully and without hesitation to where his horse was stabled. He called an ostler, told him to saddle the stallion and waited impatiently while he did so.

"Monsieur is leaving?" the ostler inquired. "Certainly not! I shall be back within a few hours," Armand replied as he swung himself into the saddle.

The black stallion, fresh after a night's rest, reared and wheeled round the yard. When finally Armand had mastered him, he set off at a sharp trot towards the Château.

The weeds neglected on the drive were echoed on closer acquaintance by the shabbiness of the house it self. Panes of glass were missing, the lintels were sadly in need of paint, and the flower gardens which sloped down to the lake were wild and untended.

Yet it was beautiful, its grey walls reflected in the water, its lovely proportions unaffected by superficial blemishes.

Armand dismounted at the front door and pulled the bell-chain, which was rusty. It was a long time before the door was opened. He heard slow shuffling footsteps cross the floor,

the rattle of chains and locks, and finally the oak door

swung open to reveal an old servant in a stained and

patched uniform, his wig awry, his eyes short-sighted

and bleary.

"Oui, Monsieur?"

"I have come to call on Madame la Duchesse de Malessene," Armand said.

"Certainly, Monsieur. Will Monsieur be pleased to step inside?" The old man opened the door a little wider, but Ar mand looked at his horse. The old man became flus

tered.

"Monsieur is riding! Now how can I get the groom?... "Tis a long way I shall keep Monsieur waiting."