Part 25 (1/2)
It was a month since Hugh had left London, and the weeks that pa.s.sed in Brussels after the reunion had been pleasant ones. He saw her daily, and was only content when in her company, driving in the Bois de la Cambre, shopping in the Montagne de la Cour, or taking her to the theatre. During this time he had been introduced to one of her relatives--the first he had known. When he called upon her as usual one evening, he found a man some ten years her senior seated in the drawing-room. His bearing was that of a gentleman. He was well-dressed, wearing in his coat the crimson b.u.t.ton of the French Legion of Honour, and was introduced by Valerie as the Comte Chaulin-Serviniere, her cousin.
The men shook hands, and quickly became friends. At first Hugh was inclined to regard him with suspicion and distrust, but on closer acquaintance found him a genial, reckless man of the world, who was possessed of plenty of money, and whose tastes were similar to his own.
Being apparently a prominent figure in Brussels society, he introduced Hugh to various people worth knowing, and soon became his constant companion.
Had he known that the Comte Lucien Chaulin-Serviniere was the same person as one Victor Berard whose name was inscribed upon a rather bulky file preserved in the archives of the Prefecture of Police in Paris, it is probable that he would have shunned his companions.h.i.+p, and many evil consequences would thereby have been avoided.
Blissfully ignorant, however, and confident of Valerie's love and devotion, Hugh was perfectly happy as the weeks glided by, until one day she announced that she was compelled to depart at once for Namur to visit an aunt who was ill, and not expected to recover.
It was thereupon arranged that she should travel to Namur by herself, visit her relative, and that the Comte and Hugh should meet her three days later at Laroche. The suggestion was the Comte's, for he declared she was looking worn, and that a sojourn of a week or two in the invigorating and health-promoting Ardennes would do her good.
Valerie left on the following morning, but the dying aunt was a pure invention, and instead of remaining at Namur, she proceeded at once to Malreux, and thence to Laroche, where she arrived after spending the greater part of the day in performing the journey. At the Hotel Royal she found Pierre Rouillier awaiting her, for the meeting had been prearranged, and it was for a more important and beneficial purpose than exploring the beauties of the neighbourhood that Mademoiselle Dedieu had journeyed so far.
Like everything else in the little town, the arrangements of the hotel were of Walloon simplicity, and scarcely suited to patrician taste, although there was a decided touch of novelty in dining at midday with only the ”beer of the country” as beverage, and suppers at seven consisting of fresh eggs, the fare throughout being of a genuinely homely character.
They were sitting on the veranda on the second morning after her arrival. Having finished their liqueurs, Pierre suggested that, as he desired to talk confidentially, they should take a stroll in order to avoid the possibility of eavesdroppers. To this Valerie readily acquiesced, and, having obtained her sunshade, the pair started off up a by-path for a ramble up the steep hillside.
”You know your way about this place very well, I suppose?” she remarked, as they walked together.
”Yes, considering I have buried myself here for several months, and have no other occupation beyond strolling about or killing time in deserted _estaminets_. The winter here was most abominably dull; in fact, were it not for your sake--”
”You mean for the sake of your own neck,” interrupted mademoiselle, smiling.
”Well, I admit it is not for your sake alone that I'm in hiding, but personating a dead man has its drawbacks. Within twenty-four hours of leaving London I arrived at this sleepy hole, and my name has since been Adolphe Chavoix, gentleman, living on his means. From the time I first set foot in the place I've never been five miles from it, and I expect I shall be compelled to remain here for months, perhaps for a year longer,” he said dismally.
”Is it a safe retreat?”
”Safe! I should think it is! Why, I'm as well-known as the _doyen_ himself. The rustics fancy I'm a decent sort of fellow, and I'm on visiting terms with almost everybody, from the imbecile old Burgomaster downwards. Why, the police commissary of the district is one of my closest friends. Bless you, I'm as safe here as if I lay in my coffin.
But, tell me, what progress are you making?”
”As much as can be expected,” she replied, taking his arm and leaning upon him in the stiff ascent. ”I explained to you yesterday the plan we propose; but, of course, it is highly dangerous.”
”For boldness and impudence I've never heard its equal,” declared Pierre candidly.
”_Bien_, then you recognise how imperative it is that our arrangements should be elaborated before the _coup_ is made. There were many obstacles in our path, but one by one these are being removed. When the course is quite open we shall act.”
”He still loves you?”
”Yes,” she replied with a grim smile.
”It will prove an expensive pastime for him,” exclaimed her companion, laughing.
”But profitable to us. Think what it will mean if we succeed.”
”We must succeed, sooner or later.”
”Never draw hasty conclusions,” remarked mademoiselle. ”One awkward incident and the whole scheme might collapse. Even now I'm almost at a standstill for want of funds.”
”Have you spent all the last?”
”Yes; and moreover, the man who furnished my place in Brussels two years ago threatens to take possession because I can't pay him, while I have heaps of other unpaid bills.”