By midnight the fugitives were en route; by daybreak they set foot on Piedmont territory.
They had dismissed their guide some time before. They now proceeded to break the litter in pieces; and handful by handful they cast the wool of the mattress to the wind.
“Our task is accomplished,” the officer said to Maurice. “We will now return to France. May God protect you! Farewell!”
It was with tears in his eyes that Maurice saw these brave men, who had just saved his father’s life, depart. Now he was the sole protector of Marie-Anne, who, pale and overcome with fatigue and emotion, trembled on his arm.
But no—Corporal Bavois still lingered by his side.
“And you, my friend,” he asked, sadly, “what are you going to do?”
“Follow you,” replied the old soldier. “I have a right to a home with you; that was agreed between your father and myself! So do not hurry, the young lady does not seem well, and I see the village only a short distance away.”
CHAPTER XXXVI
Essentially a woman in grace and beauty, as well as in devotion and tenderness, Marie-Anne was capable of a virile bravery. Her energy and her coolness during those trying days had been the admiration and the astonishment of all around her.