"I climbed out of the window," responded the adventurer briefly. "Have you had anything to eat since you left yesterday?"
"I was not hungry. I had the brandy, you know."
"Heavens above, you must be starving! Eat this quickly. No, first——Is the eau-de-vie in this pocket?"
"Always that brandy-flask," commented Aymar, trying to smile, as, supporting himself on an elbow, he took the little cup. But his hand shook so much that Laurent caught it from him with an exclamation, and, seating himself on the ledge, slipped an arm round his ex-patient and supported him while he held the cup to his lips. There was re-awakened fury in his heart.
"This is like old times," remarked L'Oiseleur, and lay still a moment against his friend's shoulder.
"There's only one alleviation," muttered Laurent, with some of the fury audible in his voice, "and that is, that your release was undoubtedly vengeance on that scoundrel's part. Viewed in that light, it is almost a compliment."
"Oh, are you speaking of Guitton?" murmured Aymar. "I had forgotten him for the moment. I was thinking about someone better worth considering." He caught at the hand that had held the cup, and pulled it to him. "I was convinced that I should never see you again, Laurent. . . . Shall I ever be able to repay you?"
"I don't know what you are talking about," said Laurent, as gruffly as any of his English forbears, but he returned the pressure of the two cold hands which held his. "Now eat; and when you have eaten you can tell me how you found the strength to get so far."
So Aymar ate, when Laurent had consented to do the same, and told him. It appeared that he had gone into the copse, and been there for hours, perhaps—he did not seem sure. Nor was he, evidently, quite clear whether he had lost consciousness there or not; but he admitted that he had thought, "quite erroneously," that he could not possibly go farther. . . . However, towards evening he made another effort, drank some water, and went on by the field way, rather blindly, his only object being to put as much distance between himself and Arbelles as he could. In the twilight he almost stumbled into the haystack, and having thus fortunately come on it, subsided there.
"Well, thank God for the haystack," observed Laurent. "Were you cold in the night? It's horribly open here."