"For me," muttered the Advocate, as he left Vanbrugh, "there may be no to-morrow."
Bearing in mind the words of Vanbrugh that he would meet his wife and Christian Almer lower down on the road, he looked out for them. He saw no trace of them, and presently he began to blunder in his course; he searched in vain for a familiar landmark, and he knew not in which direction the House of White Shadows was situated. Evening was fast approaching when he heard himself hailed by loud shouts. The sounds proceeded from a strongly-built stone hut, protected on three sides from wind and rain, and so placed that the water from the ranges rolled past without injuring it. Standing within the doorway was Fritz the Fool.
Thinking his wife might have sought shelter there, the Advocate made his way to it, and found therein assembled, in addition to Fritz, old Pierre Lamont, Mother Denise and her husband Martin, and their pretty granddaughter Dionetta.
"Welcome, comrade, welcome," cried Pierre Lamont. "It is pleasant to see a familiar face. We were compelled to fly from the villa, and Fritz here conveyed us here to this hospitable hut, where we shall be compelled to stay till the storm ceases. Where is 'your fair lady?"
"It is a question I would ask of you," said the Advocate. "She is not here, then?"
"No. She left the villa before we did, in the company of your friend"--the slight involuntary accent he placed upon the word caused the Advocate to start as though he had received a blow--"Christian Almer. They have doubtless found another shelter as secure as this. We wished them to stop for us, but they preferred not to wait. Fritz had a hard job of it carrying me to this hut, which he claims as his own, and which is stored with provisions sufficient for a month's siege. I have robbed the old house of its servants--Dionetta here, for whom" (he dropped his voice) "the fool has a fancy, and her grandmother, whom I shall pension off, and Fritz himself--an invaluable fool. Fritz, open a bottle of wine; do the honours of your mansion. The Advocate is exhausted."
The Advocate did not refuse the wine; he felt its need to sustain his strength for the work he had yet to perform. He glanced round the walls.
"Is there an inner room?" he asked.
"Yes; there is the door."
"May I crave privacy for a few minutes?"