Angelot: A Story of the First EmpirePrice, Eleanor C. (Eleanor Catherine)
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Angelot: A Story of the First Empire
Price, Eleanor C. (Eleanor Catherine)
Napoleonic Wars, 1800-1815 -- Fiction
"What is this, rascals? Do you know what you are saying? This is the son
of Monsieur de la Marinière."
"It is some mistake. You have no business to arrest me. You will answer
for this, police! You will answer it to Monsieur le Préfet. He is ill,
and cannot have given the order. Show me your authority."
"Never mind our authority," said the chief. "We don't want Monsieur de
la Marinière, but we do want his son. Are you coming quietly, young
gentleman, or must we put on handcuffs? Get out of the way with your
stick, you one-legged fellow, or I shall have to punish you."
"Keep back, Martin; you can do nothing. Go and tell my father," said
Angelot. He shook off the men's hands, and stood still and upright in
the midst of them.
"Why do you arrest me?" he said. "Where are you going to take me?"
"Ah, that you will see," said the police officer.
The snarling malice in his voice seemed suddenly familiar to Angelot.
"Why, I know you--you are--"
"Never mind who I am. It is my business to keep down Chouans."
"But I am not a Chouan!"
"A man is known by his company. Now then--quick march--away!"
"Adieu, Martin! This is all nonsense--I shall soon come back," Angelot
cried, as they hustled him on.
A few moments, and the very tramp of their feet was lost in the dusk,
for they had dragged their prisoner out of the lane and were crossing
the open moor. Martin, in much tribulation, made the best of his way
back to meet his father and mother, and with them carried the news to La
Marinière.
Half an hour later, Monsieur Urbain, whistling gaily, came back from a
pleasant stroll home with his Sainfoy cousins. Everything seemed
satisfactory; Adélaïde had been kind, the vintage was splendid. If only
Angelot were a sensible boy, there would be nothing left to wish for.
The moon was up, flooding the old yards that were now empty and still.
As he came near, he saw Anne waiting for him in the porch, and supposed
that the moonlight made her so strangely pale.
"My dearest," he said, as he came up, "there is to be a ball this month
at Lancilly, in honour of Georges. But I do not know whether that
foolish son of yours will be invited."
Anne looked him in the face; no, it was not the moonlight that made her
so pale.
"They have arrested Ange as a Chouan," she said.
CHAPTER XX
HOW ANGELOT CLIMBED A TREE
The police had caught Angelot; but they did not keep him long.
They had to do with a young man who knew every yard of that wild country
far better than they did, and was almost as much a part of it as the
birds and beasts that haunted it.
"Where are you taking me?" he said, as they walked across the high
expanse of the _landes_, dimly lighted by the last glimmer of day. "This
is a very roundabout way to Sonnay-le-Loir."
"It is not the way at all," said the officer who took the lead, "and we
know that as well as you."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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