The person who was called madame, in spite of her male costume, replied in a voice calm, grave, and sweet:
"My friend, believe me, God will tire of protecting this wicked prince, and will strike him cruelly; let us hasten to put our projects into execution, for I am not one of those who believe in fatality, and I think that men have perfect freedom in will and deed. If we leave his punishment to God, and do not act ourselves, it was not worth while living so unhappily until now."
At this moment a blast of north wind, cold and biting, swept across the plain.
"You shiver, madame," said the other traveler; "take your cloak."
"No, thank you, Remy; I no longer feel pain of body or mind."
Remy rode on silently, only now and then stopping and looking back.
"You see no one behind us?" asked she, after one of these halts.
"No one, madame."
"That cavalier whom we met at Valenciennes, and who inquired about us, after looking at us so curiously?"
"He is not here, madame."