Without stopping, without turning round, breathless, I did the remaining league of my journey in about ten minutes' time, and I reached my mother's house panting, covered with mud and sweat, just as the baker had come to tell her that his horse had returned to its stable without me.
My mother was already terribly alarmed, but her alarm was greatly increased when she caught sight of me.
I took her aside and told her everything.
My mother recommended me not to say a single word of what I had seen.
She reflected that if it were really a murdered man, there would be an inquest, an inquiry at Soissons, assizes at Laon; I should be involved in the whole thing, and compelled to appear as witness at both inquiry and assizes; and it would mean expense and waste time, and annoyance.
My mother made the excuse that I was very tired, and went herself to take the answer I had brought for M. Mennesson from Maître Leroux, whilst I changed my clothes throughout. My underclothing was saturated with perspiration, my suit was covered with mud.
My mother's visit to M. Mennesson was a brief one. She was in haste to return to me, and to ask me fresh details.
The return of the horse without its rider was put down to an ordinary fall, and as there was nothing unusual in such an occurrence the baker's suspicions were not roused.
We spent half the night without closing our eyes. My mother and I still slept in the same room, and even our beds were in the same recess. She did not give over asking questions, and I did not weary of repeating the same details over and over again, so profound was the impression they had left upon me.
Towards one o'clock we fell asleep; but that did not prevent us from waking at seven in the morning.