“Come,” he said, and set off down the hill at a pace which I found it hard to equal.
Once among the trees the going was still more difficult, but Pasdeloup sped forward with astonishing ease and swiftness and as silently as a shadow. As for myself, I floundered through the underbrush and over the uneven ground as best I could. But the best was bad enough, and more than once I fancied that Pasdeloup had abandoned me to my own resources, as I certainly deserved. But always I found him patiently awaiting me. He seemed to have some well-defined objective point in view, for he went straight forward without looking to right or left. We came out at the end of half an hour into a gentle valley nearly free of trees, and up this he turned almost at a run. At last I panted after him up a little hill and found him calmly sitting at the top.
I flung myself beside him, breathless, utterly exhausted.
“Do not wait for me,” I said, as soon as I could speak. “You must find them—they need you more than I. I will shift for myself.”
“We stop here,” he answered, still gruffly. “They must pass this way.”
At last I was able to sit up and look about me. The hill on which we were stood at the junction of two little valleys.
“They must come by one of those,” continued Pasdeloup. “We will wait until they pass.”
“But why did they not wait for us in the wood?” I questioned. “Perhaps M. le Comte gave me up when I did not follow him.”
“No,” said Pasdeloup. “They waited, but they were discovered and forced to flee.”
“Discovered?” I repeated despairingly.