‘We must make a confidante of you, madam. As a woman, you will assist us. In a word, I am in love with this lady, and we have eloped together to avoid a forced marriage on her part. Will you attend to her kindly, whilst I hurry the stable-people?’
And without waiting for a reply Philippe left the convulsed form of the Marchioness to the care of the landlady, whilst he went into the inn-yard to urge on the putting-to of the horses. The hostess did not disbelieve his story. We have before spoken of the singularly youthful appearance of Marie’s features; and as Philippe Glazer was a handsome young man, about the same age, she took it all for granted, and directly entered into the trouble of ‘the poor young couple,’ as she imagined them to be. The prospect of good payment might, at the same time, have increased her sympathy.
When the carriage was ready Philippe returned, and then Marie was slightly recovered, and was sipping some warm wine, poured from one of a number of bright little pewter vessels which were ranged amongst the glowing embers of the fireplace. She was, however, pale and anxious, and earnestly inquired of Philippe if he was ready to start.
‘The horses are waiting,’ he replied, as Marie, turning to the landlady, inquired, ‘How many others have you in the stable at present?’
‘There are six,’ replied the hostess; ‘four of which are going on with the Valenciennes express.’
‘Are the roads safe?’ asked the Marchioness.
‘But tolerably so, ma’amselle. They usually travel armed who go by night, or with an escort.’
‘I will have two of your people,’ she added, ‘to ride by our side. Let them mount immediately.’
‘There is little to apprehend from the robbers,’ said Philippe, as the landlady hurried out of the room.
‘But a great deal from Desgrais, if he gets fresh horses,’ replied Marie. ‘I would take them all on if I could.’