"Still it is not impassable?"
"Not in a case of necessity. But you will not attempt it."
"And why not?"
"Because on this hill Monsieur des Barres and Monsieur d'Ombré cannot back out of your way, and you can back out of theirs—and must."
"'Must' to me!" Georges de Sainfoy said between his teeth.
"Let us assure you, monsieur, that we regret the necessity—" Monsieur des Barres interfered in his politest manner.
"Enough, monsieur."
De Sainfoy gave his orders. His servants sprang down and helped the post-boy to back the horses to the foot of the hill. It was a long business, with a great deal of kicking, struggling, scrambling, and swearing. Monsieur des Barres' carriage followed slowly, he and Georges de Sainfoy walking down together. The Baron d'Ombré lingered to say a friendly good-night to Angelot, who was not disposed to wait on his cousin any further. That night there was born a kind of sympathy, new and strange, between the fierce young Chouan and the careless boy still halting between two opinions.
"Old Joubard's son is come back, then?" César asked. "Will that attach the old man to the Empire? Your uncle can never tell us on which side he is likely to be."
"Dame! I should think not!" said Angelot. "Poor Martin—I saw him just now. He has left a leg and an arm in Spain."