“But those rascals from the inn?”
“There has been no pursuit—at least not in this direction.”
“But I suppose there may be. How long have I been here?”
“Nearly an hour,” said his cousin. “I have found a place of comparative shelter—if you think you can manage to get to it,” he added a little dubiously.
For answer Louis began to scramble to his feet. “My shoulder may be impaired, my dear Gilbert,” he retorted, “but my legs at least are sound.” He got to them as he spoke, but their condition was evidently by no means as unimpeachable as he had stated.
“I thought as much,” said the Marquis, putting an arm round him. “It is obvious that I shall have to carry you again if you do not move less violently.”
“Very well,” responded Louis submissively. “But it is nothing; I am only a little giddy; I can walk quite well.” Nevertheless he hastily put out his hand to a tree-trunk as Gilbert loosed his hold and stooped to pick up his coat. “And how far is it, this refuge of yours?” he enquired, as, with the assistance of his cousin’s arm, he made his way through the gap in the hedge.
“About two fields off; but we had better skirt round by the hedges for fear of being seen. It is a hayloft, and the owner will ask no questions.”
“Estimable man!” commented Saint-Ermay.
“It happens to be a woman,” observed the Marquis, as they emerged into the open field.