“But if he overheard?”
“Perhaps we were a little indiscreet,” he agreed, sober for an instant. “But one peril more or less—what does it matter?” he added, with a shrug. “Here are the horses. Permit me to return you yours, with apologies and thanks.”
“I am rejoiced to get him back,” I said, patting his nose.
“The pleasure seems to be mutual,” observed my companion; and indeed there was no mistaking the joy in the eyes of my old friend. “You would better look over your belongings,” he added. “There are thieves about.”
But I found that nothing had been disturbed. My pistols were in their holsters, and my portmanteau was still strapped behind the saddle.
“Then let us be off,” said M. de Favras.
Not until we were well out of the village and cantering briskly toward the south with a clear road behind us, did I feel at ease. Then I took my chin from my shoulder and directed an admiring gaze at my companion—would I ever acquire such an air? He caught my glance and smiled.
“Where had you intended spending the night, M. de Tavernay?” he inquired.
“At Châtellerault,” I said.
“But you cannot hope to reach Châtellerault to-day,” he protested, “after the delay which I have caused you. You must be my guest to-night. My château is just beyond Dange. I will see you on your way at daybreak to-morrow, and you can reach Poitiers with ease by sunset. I hope you will accept, my friend,” he went on, seeing that I hesitated, “if only that I may feel you have wholly forgiven me. Besides,” he added, with an air of finality, “it is folly to travel unattended in this country after nightfall. It is overrun with brigands who shout for liberty, equality, fraternity, only to conceal their crimes.”