"Where are we going?" he faltered.
"To Bordeaux! to Bordeaux!" cried Nanon from within the carriage.
"To Libourne, ten thousand furies!" cried Cauvignac.
"Monsieur, the horses will fall before they have gone two leagues."
"I don't ask them to go so far!" retorted Cauvignac, spurring them with his sword. "Let them hold out as far as Ferguzon's camp, that's all I ask."
The heavy vehicle thereupon set forth at a terrifying pace. Men and horses, sweating, gasping, bleeding, urged one another on, the first by their shouts, the others by their loud neighing.
Nanon tried to resist, to free herself, to leap down from the carriage, but she exhausted her strength in the struggle, and soon fell back utterly worn out; she was no longer conscious of what was taking place. By dint of seeking to distinguish Cauvignac amid the hurly-burly of fleeing shadows, her head went round and round; she closed her eyes with a despairing cry, and lay cold and motionless in her maid's arms.
Cauvignac rode forward to the horses' heads. His horse left a trail of fire along the road.
"Help, Ferguzon! help!" he cried.
His call was answered by a cheer in the distance.