Chapter 5: Flight

The faster a person runs from the truth,
the swifter it is to catch them.

A Fool's Book of Wisdom

She moved silently, a shadow among shadows as she collected the few provisions she would allow herself to take from the Comte's household. Her first stop was the larder. After fumbling with the latch for a moment, she pulled up on the root cellar's door and carefully rested it against the wall. She cautiously made her way down the stone steps and, as she had no lamp, she found it necessary to rely solely on her sense of touch to find the bags of dried apples. Removing one from the bag, she sniffed it and sighed.

"Yes, this is most definitely an apple. It just would not do to find myself on the road, hungry and pull a turnip from the bag. Now, I will just put a few of these into this bag over here and now, I have room for cheese and bread." She turned around. "Oh damn, now I have to go up the stairs..."

Her return trip seemed to take even longer than her foray down into the cellar and she had to prevent herself from releasing a sigh of relief when her eyes were once again able to guide her feet. The pantry was her next target and she quickly filled her bag.

Her final stop was the chateau's laundry, where she dug through the large bin containing the Comtessa's barely soiled clothing. The Comtessa had a wan complexion with watery blue eyes and straw colored hair. Her figure had been lovely when she first arrived at the chateau as the Comte's second blushing bride, but it seemed that with each passing year, the woman's waist thickened and bosom expanded. Earlier in the week, Christine had heard the shrill voice of the Comtessa berating her maid over the improper laundering of her clothing. Christine had snickered when she heard the woman attempting to blame the laundress for the fact her dresses no longer fit her.

"That woman is simply too fond of her desserts. I find it difficult to feel any compassion for the woman. She is selfish, vain and, while not deliberately cruel, she is completely oblivious as to the consequences her displeasure reeks upon those serving her. The Comte is so besotted with her that he would dismiss the entire household staff, if she asked it of him. As if it is anyone's fault other than her own that her clothes are too tight. If she did not indulge in quite so many sweets each day and restrained herself from eating more than one portion at meals, she would not find her seams ready to burst. Be that as it may, I foresee the Comtessa growing ever older and ever wider. It is a shame, really, as she most likely eats as a means to distract herself from her unhappiness. Unhappiness she will never examine or admit she has. Strange. It seems that everyone living beneath the roof of this chateau is unhappy with their life in one way or another. I wonder ... was this place always this way? When I first came here with my Papa, did the shadow of despair hang over this place? I do not remember it being here, so when did it first appear? Oh, yes! Of course, how foolish of me, this place never recovered from the losses the Comte suffered! The chateau became a morose place after his first wife, Giselle and his eldest son, Anton died. I cannot even imagine his grief to lose not only those two, but his unborn son as well. Poor babe! Little Luis de Mornay. I suppose I was too deep into my own grief to notice, but I find it curious that I never thought about it until now. I almost feel guilty for not doing something to help, but that is an absurd thought! How could I, a child of nine years, have been of any possible help? The Comte was a grown man. He did not need my help. It was the Comte, who helped me by not sending me to an orphanage and allowing me to live in the chateau. How odd it is that I should feel this way ... I have never felt a responsibility towards anyone in this place before this moment. Why now when I plan to leave?"

The young woman shook her head to clear the unsettling thoughts, which ran through her mind and distracted her from her task. She concentrated once more on the reason she was searching through the Comtessa's laundry. She smiled wryly as her hands tugged and tossed aside various items of clothing.

"Oh, well, it now seems that the Comtessa's unfortunate gain is really a fortunate turn for me. I cannot believe my luck in overhearing that conversation or I might have borrowed dresses the woman would have missed. I do not wish to draw any more attention to my loan than necessary. After all, it would be a disaster if the Comte signed a writ against me. Oh! Perhaps, I should not take these things. I do not wish to steal from the man that provided me with a roof over my head all these years, but I need to look presentable if I am to audition at the opera. If I am not presentably dressed, how can I expect them to take me seriously? No! I cannot do this. The opera house shall have to judge me on the merit of my voice alone. I cannot take the Comtessa's dresses. I cannot steal, for that is how my actions will appear whether I leave a letter promising payment or not. I will not bring shame upon my Papa's good name, or on mine."

After picking up the few pieces of clothing that had fallen to the floor and returning them to the bin, Christine retrieved her sack and returned to her small room. She carefully hid the bag in the bottom of the trunk, which served as her dresser. Her hand moved through the small pile of clothing and grasped a plain white muslin chemise. She began to lift it from the trunk, but halted.

"Why do I wait until tomorrow night? I have everything I need now and the hour is not too late. There is nothing holding me here. In fact," she paused and performed a quick calculation in her head, "I believe my final wages should cover the cost of the food I took. I do not know why I did not think of this sooner. Yes, I shall leave a note instructing Madame LaBreche to use my final wages to cover the cost of the food I took and then, I shall leave this place tonight."

Christine straightened and a relieved smile crossed her normally solemn features.

"I shall leave this place beholden to no one and with a clear conscience. A true fresh start."

She grabbed the worn, large carpetbag from the trunk and quickly placed her two plain black skirts, her one black blouse, her one white blouse and her undergarments into the bag. Removing the food sack, she tied it to the strap of the bag. Christine placed the bag on her bed and then slowly pulled her bed away from the wall. She knelt, removed a loose floorboard and retrieved a brown, leather pouch. Quickly returning everything to its rightful place, Christine sat on her bed and opened the pouch.