The river was deep and fairly wide at that point but Armand was a strong swimmer. It seemed possible, however, that there had been some accident and the Comte ordered that the river be dragged. This was done but nothing came to light. We tried to conjecture what could have happened.
The Comte thought that Armand might have been near the river when he slipped, was knocked unconscious and fell into the water. It was swift-flowing and could have carried his body away and eventually reached the sea.
Dickon said: ‘This looks like foul play. He was on one of his Band excursions. Is it possible that this was known? Indeed, it is impossible that it was not known. All the Band seemed to do was talk, and there must have been many who were against such an organization.’
‘Wouldn’t they have attacked the entire Band?’ asked my father. ‘We must find Armand.’
A week passed and nothing came to light. Armand had completely disappeared. Dickon had a theory that someone had killed him and buried the body, and he took Léon Blanchard with him and they went out with spades to search the spot by the river.
Everyone joined in the task of trying to find Armand. There were no lessons during those days and the boys joined enthusiastically in the search.
At length we really began to accept the fact that Armand was dead. This seemed certain, for Armand would never have forgotten his horse unless circumstances made it impossible for him to do otherwise.
A gloom had fallen over the house.
‘It is true,’ said the Comte, ‘that we live in dangerous times. Armand should never have got involved in that Band. Poor Armand, he never did succeed in anything he undertook and all this has done has brought him to his death.’
‘He may not be dead,’ I said.
‘Something tells me that I shall never see him again.’
The search went on. In the town, in the castle nothing else was talked of; it went on and on; there were continual searches; but the weeks passed and there was no news of Armand.
It was about three weeks after Armand’s disappearance when a messenger came to the castle.
It was mid-afternoon. Dickon had gone out. He was still hoping to find some clue which would solve the mystery of Armand’s disappearance. The boys were in the schoolroom because it was one of Leon Blanchard’s days to be at the château and Lisette and I were in my room. She was making a shirt for Louis-Charles and I was seated at the window looking out.
I was still hoping for news of Armand and I had a notion that Dickon might well be the one to find it.
As I sat there I saw a stranger riding towards the castle.
‘I think he’s coming here,’ I said.
Lisette dropped her sewing and came over to stand beside me.
‘Who is it?’ I wondered.
‘We’ll soon know,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you go down and see?’
‘I will. It might be news of Armand. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if he were alive and well!’
I was in the hall when one of the grooms came in with the stranger.
‘He is asking for Monsieur Blanchard, Madame,’ said the groom.
‘I think he is in the schoolroom.’ One of the maids had appeared and I said to her: ‘Go and fetch Monsieur Blanchard.’ I turned to the visitor. ‘Not bad news, I hope.’
‘I am afraid so, Madame.’
I sighed. He did not continue and I felt it would be incorrect to pry into Léon Blanchard’s business.
Léon appeared on the stairs, his expression bewildered, and when he saw the man and recognized him, he was very anxious indeed.
‘Jules …’ he began.
The man said: ‘Ah, Monsieur Léon, Madame Blanchard is very ill. She is asking for you to come to her at once. Your brother sent me off and I have been two days getting here. It is necessary for us to leave without delay.’
‘Mon Dieu,’ murmured Léon. He turned to me. ‘This is sad news. My mother is very ill and asking for me.’
‘Well, you must go to her,’ I said.
‘I’m afraid I have no alternative. The boys … ’
‘The boys can wait until you come back.’
Lisette was beside me. ‘They will need some food before they go,’ she said.
‘Thank you,’ said Léon. ‘I think we should leave at once. We could get quite a way before nightfall and perhaps make it the next day.’
‘That would be the best, Monsieur,’ said the messenger.
The boys came running into the hall.
‘What’s happening?’ cried Charlot.
I said: ‘Monsieur Blanchard’s mother is ill and he is going to see her.’
‘What about those poisonous toadstools you were going to show us, Monsieur Blanchard?’
‘You can see those when Monsieur Blanchard comes back.’
‘When?’ demanded Charlot.
‘Before long, I hope,’ I said. ‘Oh, Monsieur Blanchard, I do hope you find your mother recovering when you get to her.’
‘She is very old,’ he replied sadly. ‘But if you will forgive me … I have very little time. I must prepare. I could be ready to leave within an hour.’
I went to find my father to tell him the news. He was most concerned.
While we were gathered in the hall wishing Léon Blanchard godspeed, Sophie appeared on the stairs. Léon Blanchard stood very still as she came towards him.
‘What has happened?’ she asked.
He replied: ‘I have a sudden message from my brother. My mother is very ill. I have to go to her at once.’
Poor Sophie! I thought. How she loves him!
‘You will come back … ’
He nodded and, taking her hand, kissed it.
She was with us when we went into the courtyard to watch him ride away. Then without a word she went back to her tower.
When Dickon returned he was most interested to hear that Léon Blanchard had left. He said that he too must think of leaving. He had been away a long time, far longer than he had planned to be.
Two days later he left.
He took my hand and, holding me close to him, kissed me with fervour.
‘I shall be back soon,’ he said, ‘and I shall keep coming until that day when I take you back with me.’
When he had gone a gloom settled on the castle. There was no news of Armand. Marie Louise did not seem unduly upset but insisted that whatever had happened to her husband was God’s Will. Sophie returned to her old way of life, shutting herself away with Jeanne. I seemed to spend my time between Lisette and my father and I was thankful that I found the conversation of both of them lively enough to compensate for the brooding sense of doom which seemed to be settling over the castle.
Sometimes when I went out I would glance up at Sophie’s turret. She was often there at the windows looking out along the road … waiting, I knew, for the return of Léon Blanchard.
Several months passed. We had now ceased to talk of Armand. It was presumed that he was dead.
My father had changed his will. I was to inherit his estate in trust for Charlot. He had left Sophie amply provided for and he said that if Léon Blanchard returned and asked for her hand he would make a handsome settlement.
Dickon came again. I was surprised to see him so soon. He looked more pleased with himself than ever.
He said: ‘I have been very busy and I have news for you.’
‘I am all eagerness to hear it.’
‘I would like to tell you in the presence of your father.’
While he was washing off the grime of the journey I went to my father and told him that Dickon had come and that he wanted to see him immediately because he had news which he wanted us both to hear.