The House of the Combrays

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The House of the Combrays

The Project Gutenberg eBook, The House of the Combrays, by G. le
Notre, Translated by Mrs. Joseph B. Gilder
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Title: The House of the Combrays
Author: G. le Notre

Release Date: November 15, 2005 [eBook #17067]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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THE HOUSE OF THE COMBRAYS
by
G. LE NOTRE
Translated from the French by Mrs. Joseph B. Gilder

New York Dodd, Mead & Company 1902 Copyright, 1902, by Dodd,
Mead & Company First Edition Published October, 1902

Contents
PREFACE I. THE TREACHERY OF JEAN-PIERRE QUERELLE II.
THE CAPTURE OF GEORGES CADOUDAL III. THE COMBRAYS
IV. THE ADVENTURES OF D'ACHÉ V. THE AFFAIR OF
QUESNAY VI. THE YELLOW HORSE VII. MADAME ACQUET
VIII. PAYING THE PENALTY IX. THE FATE OF D'ACHÉ X. THE
CHOUANS SET FREE

PREFACE
AN OLD TOWER
One evening in the winter of 1868 or 1869, my father-in-law, Moisson,
with whom I was chatting after dinner, took up a book that was lying
on the table, open at the page where I had stopped reading, and said:

"Ah! you are reading Mme. de la Chanterie?"
"Yes," I replied. "A fine book; do you know it?"
"Of course! I even know the heroine."
"Mme. de la Chanterie!"
"---- By her real name Mme. de Combray. I lived three months in her
house."
"Rue Chanoinesse?"
"No, not in the Rue Chanoinesse, where she did not live, any more than
she was the saintly woman of Balzac's novel;--but at her Château of
Tournebut d'Aubevoye near Gaillon!"
"Gracious, Moisson, tell me about it;" and without further solicitation,
Moisson told me the following story:
"My mother was a Brécourt, whose ancestor was a bastard of Gaston
d'Orleans, and she was on this account a royalist, and very proud of her
nobility. The Brécourts, who were fighting people, had never become
rich, and the Revolution ruined them completely. During the Terror my
mother married Moisson, my father, a painter and engraver, a plebeian
but also an ardent royalist, participating in all the plots for the
deliverance of the royal family. This explains the mésalliance. She
hoped, besides, that the monarchy, of whose reestablishment she had
no doubt, would recognise my father's services by ennobling him and
reviving the name of Brécourt, which was now represented only in the
female line. She always called herself Moisson de Brécourt, and bore
me a grudge for using only my father's name.
"In 1804, when I was eight years old, we were living on the island of
Saint-Louis, and I remember very well the excitement in the quarter,
and above all in our house, caused by the arrest of Georges Cadoudal. I
can see my mother anxiously sending our faithful servant for news; my
father came home less and less often; and at last, one night, he woke

me up suddenly, kissed me, kissed my mother hastily, and I can still
hear the noise of the street door closing behind him. We never saw him
again!"
"Arrested?"
"No, we should have known that, but probably killed in flight, or dead
of fatigue and want, or drowned in crossing some river--like many
other fugitives, whose names I used to know. He was to have sent us
news as soon as he was in safety. After a month's waiting, my mother's
despair became alarming. She seemed mad, committed the most
compromising acts, spoke aloud and with so little reserve about
Bonaparte, that each time the bell rang, our servant and I expected to
see the police.
"A very different kind of visitor appeared one fine morning. He was, he
said, the business man of Mme. de Combray, a worthy woman who
lived in her Château of Tournebut d'Aubevoye near Gaillon. She was a
fervent royalist, and had heard through common friends of my father's
disappearance, and compassionating our misfortune placed a house
near her own at the disposal of my mother, who would there find the
safety and peace that she needed, after her cruel sorrows. As my mother
hesitated, Mme. de Combray's messenger urged the benefit to my
health, the exercise and the good air indispensable at my age, and
finally she consented. Having obtained all necessary information, my
mother,