Aided by Michel, she mounted the horse which the young man led by the bridle, and with a last signal of farewell to the widow, they both disappeared behind the hedge.
For some minutes Petit-Pierre, whose head was bowed on her breast, swayed to the motions of the horse and seemed to be buried in deep and painful reflections. At last, however, she made an effort over herself, and shaking off the grief that overcame her, she turned to Michel, who was walking beside her.
"Monsieur," she said, "I already know two things which entitle you to my confidence: first, that we owed the warning that troops were surrounding the château de Souday to you; second, that you have come to me to-day in the name of the marquis and his charming daughters. But there is still a third thing, about which I should like to know, and that is, who you are. My friends are rare under present circumstances, and I like to know their names that I may promise not to forget them."
"I am called Baron Michel de la Logerie," replied the young man.
"De la Logerie! Surely this is not the first time I have heard that name?"
"Very likely not, Madame," said the young man; "for our poor Bonneville told me he was taking your Highness to my mother--"
"Stop, stop! what are you saying? Your Highness! There is no highness here; I see only a poor little peasant-lad named Petit-Pierre."
"Ah, true; but Madame will excuse--"
"What! again?"
"Pardon me. Our poor Bonneville was taking you to my mother when I had the honor of meeting and conducting you to Souday."