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THE BATTLE OF THE STRONG

[A ROMANCE OF TWO KINGDOMS]

By Gilbert Parker

Volume 4.

CHAPTER XXIII

With what seemed an unnecessary boldness Detricand slept that night atthe inn, "The Golden Crown," in the town of Bercy: a Royalist of theVendee exposing himself to deadly peril in a town sworn to alliance withthe Revolutionary Government. He knew that the town, even the inn, mightbe full of spies; but one other thing he also knew: the innkeeper of "TheGolden Crown" would not betray him, unless he had greatly changed sincefifteen years ago. Then they had been friends, for his uncle ofVaufontaine had had a small estate in Bercy itself, in ironicalproximity to the castle.

He walked boldly into the inn parlour. There were but four men in theroom—the landlord, two stout burghers, and Frange Pergot, the porter ofthe castle, who had lost no time carrying his news: not to betray his oldcomrade in escapade, but to tell a chosen few, Royalists under the rose,that he had seen one of those servants of God, an officer of the Vendee.

At sight of the white badge with the red cross on Detricand's coat, thefour stood up and answered his greeting with devout respect; and he hadspeedy assurance that in this inn he was safe from betrayal. Presentlyhe learned that three days hence a meeting of the States of Bercy was tobe held for setting the seal upon the Duke's formal adoption of Philip,and to execute a deed of succession. It was deemed certain that, erethis, the officer sent to England would have returned with Philip'sfreedom and King George's licence to accept the succession in the duchy.From interest in these matters alone Detricand would not have remained atBercy, but he thought to use the time for secretly meeting officers ofthe duchy likely to favour the cause of the Royalists.

During these three days of waiting he heard with grave concern arumour that the great meeting of the States would be marked by Philip'sbetrothal with the Comtesse Chantavoine. He cared naught for thesuccession, but there was ever with him the remembrance of GuidaLandresse de Landresse, and what touched Philip d'Avranche he had cometo associate with her. Of the true relations between Guida and Philiphe knew nothing, but from that last day in Jersey he did know that Philiphad roused in her emotions, perhaps less vital than love but certainlyless equable than friendship.

Now in his fear that Guida might suffer, the more he thought of theComtesse Chantavoine as the chosen wife of Philip the more it troubledhim. He could not shake off oppressive thoughts concerning Guida andthis betrothal. They interwove themselves through all his secretbusiness with the Royalists of Bercy. For his own part, he wouldhave gone far and done much to shield her from injury. He had seen andknown in her something higher than Philip might understand—a simplewomanliness, a profound depth of character. His pledge to her had beenthe key-note of his new life. Some day, if he lived and his causeprospered, he would go back to Jersey—too late perhaps to tell her whatwas in his heart, but not too late to tell her the promise had been kept.

It was a relief when the morning of the third day came, bright andjoyous, and he knew that before the sun went down he should be on his wayback to Saumur.

His friend the innkeeper urged him not to attend the meeting of the
States of Bercy, lest he should be recognised by spies of government.
He was, however, firm in his will to go, but he exchanged his coat with
the red cross

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