"I can answer him; don't be afraid."
"In case we are forced to separate, shall you know where to find me?"
"Yes; but don't let us say another word to each other--he is coming."
The horse's hoofs were now ringing on the paved centre of the road. Without appearing to do so Mary lagged behind the group of peasant-women. She could not help quivering when she heard, as she expected, the voice of the man addressing her.
"So we are going to Nantes, my pretty girl?" he began, pulling in his horse when he reached Mary's side, and again looking at her attentively.
"So it appears," she said, seeming to take the matter gayly.
"Don't you want my company?" asked the rider.
"Oh, no, thank you," replied Mary, imitating the speech of the Vendéan peasant-women; "I'll keep on with the rest from our parts."
"The rest from your parts? You don't expect me to believe that all those girls before us are from your village?"
"Whether they are or not, what's that to you?" retorted Mary, evading a question which was evidently insidious.