“We must walk it,” he said to Louis, adding in a lower tone: “It would be unwise to wait about here so long for the diligence.”
“How many miles is Sillé?” asked Louis, who was finishing his coffee. He made a slight grimace when he heard. “And we have already walked about a hundred!”
“We can always stop at Fresnay, which is about fifteen, instead of going further,” said his cousin.
“I suspect we shall,” returned the Vicomte. He got up with a little sigh. “Well, needs must when the devil drives! I beg your pardon, Gilbert; I did not mean to be personal. I should enjoy this walking tour better if it were not so hot.”
At that instant the Marquis became aware of two young peasant women who were looking at them with interest and whispering together. The elder of them suddenly approached him. “Messieurs,” she said, with the trace of a blush, “if you want to get to Fresnay, my sister and I are starting back for Saint-Ouen, which is almost on the way . . .” And she looked from one to the other of the travellers, the tint deepening on her round, fresh visage.
“Madame, we should inconvenience you,” said the Marquis, hesitating.
“Nenni,” replied the damsel, and she pointed through the open door to a large market cart which reclined on its shafts near the church. “You see, Monsieur, that it would hold a great many.”
And thus it was settled, and in a few moments they were following the sisters across the sunlit market-place to the vehicle in question, Louis carrying a large basket full of their purchases. His spirits were by no means lowered by this turn of affairs.
“We may feel particularly safe in the hands of these nymphs,” he observed sotto voce to Gilbert, “for they did not, as you may have noticed, treat us to the eternal ‘citizen’ which I am getting so sick of.”
Amid laughter they helped to put in the stout Percheron horse. The baskets and a good-sized roll of Mamers cloth were stowed away under the seats, together with a vociferous duck which had not been sold; and, with the eldest sister and Château-Foix seated in front, and Louis with the younger behind, also facing the horse, the equipage rattled out of the market-place. It attracted little attention. A swain, somewhat the worse for drink, who stood in a by-street, and requested the fair charioteer to tell him with whom she had taken up now, narrowly escaped destruction, the shaft catching him with some force and sending him into the gutter, wherein he sat, still repeating his query to the world in general.