"To-day," answered Nominoë swallowing a sob. "I shall engage myself as a sailor at Nantes, on some vessel sailing to the Indies. We shall never again meet here below, Bertha!"
Mademoiselle Plouernel remained steeped in silent reflection. Presently she asked abruptly:
"Is there near Nantes, along the coast, any small and little-frequented port where one may embark secretly?"
"Yes, St. Renan," answered Nominoë, raising his head and looking at Bertha with surprise; "St. Renan, near the mouth of the Loire."
"Are you sure you could find there a vessel that could attempt the passage to England?"
"St. Renan is a fishermen's port; their vessels are decked, and are excellent sailers; they can cross the channel with ease."
"How long would it take to reach the place from here on a good horse?"
"From seven to eight hours, including stops. The horse would have to be rested on the hills."
"Is the road that leads to St. Renan a frequented one?"
"Very slightly; it is only a cross-road."