Her conductor jumped down to the ground as she spoke, and looked towards the hamlet, where the cressets were indeed visible. Every moment of advance was now most precious. He applied the lash with renewed activity to the flanks and legs of the horse, but with little effect. The animal was tired when he started; and the snow was now clogging round the wheels, rendering any material progress beyond his strength. At last, on coming to a deep drift, after a few attempts to drag the tumbrel through, he stopped altogether.
‘Malediction!’ muttered Philippe through his teeth; ‘everything is against us.’
‘They appear to be coming on at a fast trot,’ exclaimed Marie, as she hastily descended from the vehicle and stood at the side of the student. ‘We cannot possibly escape them.’
‘I am not foiled yet,’ replied Philippe. ‘We cannot outrun them, so we must try stratagem.’
Fortunately there was a small by-road running into a species of copse at the wayside, upon which was stored large stacks of firewood. Giving the Marchioness his whip, he directed her to flog the horse, whilst he himself with all his power turned one of the wheels. Marie complied—it was no time to hesitate; and by their united efforts they urged the animal forward, turning him off the road towards the copse, behind one of whose wood piles the vehicle was soon concealed.
‘Now,’ he said, ‘if they do not see us, we are safe.’
A few minutes of terrible anxiety supervened as the patrol came on at a rapid pace, their arms clanking and shining in the light of the cressets which one or two of them still carried, blazing brightly as the quick passage through the air fanned up their flames. Sure of the object of their pursuit, as they imagined, they did not pause to examine any of the tracks upon the ground, but were pushing hastily forward towards Le Bourget, where they either expected to come up with the fugitive, or receive information that would speedily place her in their hands. They came on, and were close to the spot where the others had turned off the road. Marie held her breath, and clasped Philippe’s arm convulsively; but neither uttered a syllable as they heard them pass, and could distinctly recognise Desgrais’s voice.
‘They have gone on!’ exclaimed the Marchioness as the sounds diminished.
‘Stop!’ said Philippe drawing her back, for she had advanced beyond their concealment to look after the patrol; ‘do not move; there are more to come.’
As he spoke a horseman came slowly up, who appeared to be lagging behind the rest as a sentinel. The starlight was sufficient to show Philippe that he was alone; and in the stillness the student could hear the rider muttering words of displeasure, and abusing the horse, as he rolled uneasily about on his saddle. He stopped exactly opposite the copse, and for a moment Philippe imagined they were discovered. But he was soon undeceived. The patrol, after vainly endeavouring to tighten his saddle-girths as he sat on the horse, attempted to dismount; but being short and round in figure, he could not well reach the ground from the stirrup, and the consequence was, he rolled down, and over and over in the snow like a ball.