“Sometimes,” she admitted, laughing. “It’s like a thunderstorm, isn’t it—all fire and fury while it lasts, but leaving one cleansed and purified. Oh, I am far from perfect,” she added, laughing again as she caught my glance, “as you would have seen for yourself long ere this had you been of an observing turn. Is this as far as we go through this thicket?”
“No,” I answered, checking the words which rose to my lips; and I set off again, nor paused until the village had sunk from sight behind us. “Now we can rest,” I said, and sat down at the edge of the bushes.
She sat beside me and leaned her chin upon her hand as she gazed down into the valley. The sun was sinking to the west and the road seemed the merest yellow ribbon between its green hedges. Far ahead I could see that the country again became more broken, and a low range of purple hills closed in the horizon.
As we sat there silent, a cloud of dust appeared far down the road, and we moved deeper into the cover of the bushes, fearing that it was another regiment approaching. But it was only a flock of sheep, driven by three shepherds.
“Food for the enemy,” I remarked. “That explains why there are no longer any flocks in these pastures. The Republic has swallowed them, as it has swallowed so many other things.”
We watched them until they passed from sight on the horizon behind a cloud of dust which rose and rose until it covered the sun’s face.
“Yonder behind that cloud lies Thouars,” I said.
“And a league beyond is Coulonges—and our friends,” she added.
“Always thinking of that!” I rejoined bitterly.
“Yes—of safety and home. How I shall delight to be there again!”