“What manner of country lies between?”
“Chiefly plain, rude and untilled, because of the distresses of these times. There is much heath and long grasses, a great country for hares.”
“Know you any covert nigh the road?”
“There runs a brook that the road crosses by a bridge, midway between Guermigny and Lihons. The banks are steep, and well wooded with such trees and undergrowth as love water.”
“You can guide me thither?”
“There is no missing the road.”
“God could not have made this land better for me, if He had asked my counsel,” said Xaintrailles. “You can keep your own?”
“Nom Dieu, yea!” said Barthélemy.
“And your Scots friend I can trust. A good-day to you, and thanks many.”
Thereupon he went forth.