Now and then she paused to listen intently. There were no pursuers, apparently. Her heart sank rather than rose at the thought; for it implied that the chances of her escape were not considered worth an energetic effort,—that she must inevitably return of her own accord.
Fouchette was mistaken. It was only that the pursuers were not so sure of their route and were not so fleet of foot. They had called in re-enforcements and were approaching in extended order beneath the trees, with the moral certainty of rounding her up.
As soon as Fouchette realized this she felt that she was lost. There was no place to hide from such a search,—then they could let loose the dogs!
With a fresh energy born of desperation she sprang at the chestnut-tree in front of her and began to shin up the rough trunk, boy fashion. Like most generalizations, the statement that a woman cannot climb a tree is not an axiomatic truth. It depends wholly upon the woman and the occasion. Fouchette had often amused her playmates by going up trees, and was considered a valuable addition to any party of chestnut hunters. So in this instance the woman and the occasion met. She was securely perched in the foliage when the scouting party went by. One sister walked directly beneath the tree.
"We ought to have brought the dogs," she muttered.
Fouchette was breathless.
Immediate danger past, she began to think of what she should do next. She could not remain up there forever; and if she came down she would be just where she was before,—would probably be run down by the dogs.
Presently she saw a light glimmering through the trees. Cautiously pushing the leaves aside, she saw it more distinctly. It was bobbing up and down. It was a lantern. It was coming towards her. Being a lantern, it must be carried by somebody, and that this somebody was in search of her she had no doubt. All the world was out after her.
The lantern came closer. And then she saw the barbed iron wall immediately below her, between her and the lantern. It was outside, then; and the tree she was in seemed to overhang the wall.
A desperate hope arose within her,—scarcely a hope yet,—rather a vague fancy. They could not have spread the alarm outside so quickly,—the lantern and its bearer could have no reference to her escape.