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In the mean while, Pauline returned to the Church of St. Gervais, where she found Mademoiselle de Hauteford still on her knees in the Chapel of St. Denis.
Pauline's recital of what had happened, called forth but few remarks from her companion, who only observed, that seven would be an unpleasant hour, for that by that time night began to fall. To Mademoiselle de Beaumont, however, night seemed more favourable to her enterprise than day, when the trepidation which she felt was visible to every passing eye; and she congratulated herself on the prospect of the darkness covering the agitation which might lead to suspicion if observed.
I shall not follow the two ladies through the remaining part of the day. Suffice it, that Mademoiselle de Hauteford employed herself in preparations for the long journey which the Cardinal's sentence of banishment required her to take, and that Pauline's time passed in anxiety and apprehension, till the hour came for her once more to visit the Bastille.
It was now quite dark, and the streets not being so crowded as when she before passed through them, Pauline proceeded more calmly, except when the torch-bearers of some of the gay world of Paris flashed their flambeaux in her eyes as they lighted their lords along to party or spectacle. At the Church of St. Gervais she again left Mademoiselle de Hauteford with the servant; and now, well acquainted with the way, ran lightly along till she arrived at the Bastille, where, not giving her resolution time to fail, she passed the drawbridge, and entered the outer gate, which was at that moment open. Before her stood the figure of the Porter, enjoying the cool evening air that blew through the open gate into the court. His hand rested upon the edge of the door, and the moment Pauline entered, he pushed it to with a clang that made her heart sink.
Pauline's heart sank at the idea of being carried before the Governor, well knowing how little competent she was to answer any inquiries concerning her errand; but the excess of fear will often give courage, and the most timid animals turn and resist when pressed to extremity. Thus Pauline summoned up all her resolution, and remembering the allusion which the Porter had made to Chavigni's orders in favour of the Woodman, she replied boldly: "This is no time for jesting, Sir! and as to detaining me, it would be as much as the Governor's post is worth, if it came to Monsieur de Chavigni's ears that he ever thought of such a thing."
"So, so!" cried the Porter with a grin, "you are a friend of Monsieur de Chavigni's. So--I thought there was something made him so careful of yon sour old Woodman. These great Statesmen must have their little relaxations. So that is it, Mademoiselle? He takes especial care of the father for the daughter's sake."
There was a drop or two of the warm blood of Languedoc flowing in Pauline's veins with all her gentleness, and her patience now became completely exhausted. "Well, Sir!" she answered, "all I have to say to you is, that if I meet with any insolence, it may cost you dear. So bring me to see my father, or refuse me at once."
As he spoke, the Governor approached: "Whom have you got here, porter?" he asked, while he eyed Pauline with one of those cool luxurious glances that made her shrink.
"This is the Woodman's daughter, Sir," replied the man, "who wishes to speak with her father."
Terrified, confused, and ignorant of the Woodman's name, Pauline faltered forth, unconscious of what she said, "I do not know."
"Ha! ha! ha! thou sayest well, my pretty damsel," cried the Governor laughing, and thinking that she answered his jest in kind. "It is a wise father that knows his own child; and why not a wise child that knows his own father? But without a joke, what is your supposed father's name?"
"My supposed father!" repeated Pauline, in the same state of perturbation; "Oh, Philip the Woodman."
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