“You had better, young ladies, walk on with monsieur a little way. I will overtake you with the voiture. I shall have a horse here in a few minutes. I must have the two villains, who have suffered the penalty of their crime, carried to the village and buried.”
Mademoiselle de Tourville shuddered, but Lieutenant Thornton said—
“Were they robbers, Monsieur Plessis?”
“Not common robbers, certainly,” returned the intendant, “for I am told there are none in these parts; but we shall hear more about them by-and-by.”
The two young girls then walked gently on, our hero keeping by the side of Mademoiselle Tourville.
“You selected a very pleasant mode of travelling, ladies,” remarked our hero, breaking the silence; “I have heard that the windings of the Seine, and the banks of the country on each side are extremely beautiful.”
“We enjoyed the sailing part of our journey very much,” replied the daughter of the Intendant, “but we did not travel all the way from Paris by water; Madame Coulancourt’s carriage took us to Morlins, and thence we travelled to Rouen.”
“I trust you left Madame Coulancourt quite well,” said the Lieutenant.
“Thank you; quite well,” returned Mademoiselle Tourville, with a voice less agitated; and looking up, the extreme paleness of her countenance passing off, a slight tinge of returning colour was visible on her cheek. “We have letters and a parcel for you, Monsieur Thornton.”
“You forget,” said the Lieutenant—struck by the tone of her voice, and the different accent in which she spoke the French language from her friend—“you forget I must accustom myself to the name of Tourville, and that I am your brother. May I ask, have you a brother?”