"
But I rejoiced too soon, as you shall hear.
We rode diligently on, our way lying along the fertile banks of the
Garonne, now yellow with the rustling corn. Towards evening we made
our last halt at Fenouillet, whence a couple of hours' riding should
bring us to Toulouse.
At the post-house we overtook a carriage that seemingly had halted
for relays, but upon which I scarce bestowed a glance as I alighted.
Whilst Castelroux went to arrange for fresh horses, I strode into
the common room, and there for some moments I stood discussing the
viands with our host. When at last I had resolved that a cold pasty
and a bottle of Armagnac would satisfy our wants, I looked about me
to take survey of those in the room. One group in a remote corner
suddenly riveted my attention to such a degree that I remained deaf
to the voice of Castelroux, who had just entered, and who stood now
beside me. In the centre of this group was the Comte de Chatellerault
himself, a thick-set, sombre figure, dressed with that funereal
magnificence he affected.
But it was not the sight of him that filled me with amazement. For
that, Castelroux's information had prepared me, and I well understood
in what capacity he was there. My surprise sprang rather from the
fact that amongst the half-dozen gentlemen about him - and evidently
in attendance - I beheld the Chevalier de Saint-Eustache. Now,
knowing as I did, the Chevalier's treasonable leanings, there was
ample cause for my astonishment at finding him in such company.
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