"So that you didn't overtake him?"
Oullier shook his head as though it cost him too much to put into words that a man had escaped him.
"And you don't know who he was?"
"I suspect one man," said Jean Oullier, stretching his arm toward the south; "but in any case he is an evil one." Then, as they reached the edge of the woods, he added, "Here we are."
The traveller now saw the farmhouse of Banl[oe]uvre looming up before him. Jean Oullier looked attentively to both sides of the road. The road was clear; he crossed it alone. Then with a pass-key he opened the gate.
"Come!" he said.
Maître Marc crossed the highway rapidly and disappeared through the gate, which closed behind him. A white figure came out on the portico.
"Who's there?" asked a woman's voice, but a strong, imperative voice.
"I, Mademoiselle Bertha," responded Jean Oullier.
"You are not alone, my friend?"