The hungry guests marched willingly to the dining-room, their heavy boots creaking, the noise of tread and voices echoing through the bare boarded house.
"You do not join us, mademoiselle?" said Monsieur des Barres, seeing that Henriette lingered behind in the drawing-room.
"No, monsieur," the child answered. "My father thinks I am too young to listen. Besides, I am the guetteuse. It is our business to watch—the dogs and I."
"Indeed! Is that how you spend your life? A curious employment for a young lady!"
"When there is danger abroad, I am more to be trusted than any one else."
"I quite believe it. You know, then, that our visit to-day is not entirely one of pleasure? Monsieur your father has taken you so far into his confidence, though you are too young to listen?"
"I know everything, monsieur," said Henriette.
"Then we may eat in peace. We are safe in your care. That is charming, mademoiselle."
"Yes, monsieur. I will let you know at once, if Monsieur le Préfet and his gendarmes are riding down the lane."
"Good heavens, what an idea! I have not the smallest wish to meet Monsieur le Préfet. I believe that gentleman keeps a black book, in which I am quite sure my name is written. Yes indeed, mademoiselle, if he should happen to pass, send him a little farther. Tell him he will find a nest of Chouans at Vaujour, or anywhere else your fancy suggests."