"Thank you, Pierre, but mind, that arm you have got hold of is the weak one.
"Now, how far have we got to go, Philip? For I warn you, I am nearly at the end of my strength."
"We will get into a quiet street first, Francois, and there you shall have a drink, from a flask of excellent wine I have here. Then we will help you along. You can lean as heavily as you like upon us. You are no great weight, now; and anyone who notices us helping you will suppose that we are conveying a drunken comrade to his home."
But in spite of all the assistance they could give him, Francois was terribly exhausted when he reached the lodging. Here Philip and Pierre bandaged his wounds, far more securely and firmly than his nurse had been able to do; and the next morning, when he awoke, he declared himself ready to start at once.
It was a week, however, before Philip would hear of his making such an effort; but by that time, good eating and drinking had done so much for him that he thought he would be able to stand the fatigue of the journey, and the next morning they started. Disguised as peasants, they passed out through the gates unquestioned. Francois was left in the wood, with the clothes they had purchased for him. The others then went on and found their bundles undisturbed, obtained their three horses at Versailles and, riding back, soon had Francois mounted.
The wound on his head was so far healed that it was no longer necessary to bandage it, and although he looked pale and weak, there was nothing about him to attract special notice. They journeyed by easy stages south, lengthening the distances gradually as Francois gained strength; and riding fast, towards the end, so as to reach La Rochelle before an army, under Marshal Biron, sat down before it.
It was evening when they arrived, and after putting up their horses they made their way to Monsieur Bertram's. Philip mounted the stairs, leaving Francois to follow him, slowly.
"I shall not take more than two or three minutes to break the news, but I must prepare your mother a little, Francois. She has not said much, but I know she had but little hope, though she bore up so bravely."
The countess was sitting, with Claire and the merchant's daughter. It was the first time Philip had seen Mademoiselle de Valecourt, since they first arrived at La Rochelle. She was dressed now in deep mourning. A flush of bright colour spread over her face, as Philip entered.
As in duty bound, he turned first to the countess and saluted her affectionately; and then turned to Claire, and would have kissed her hand, but the countess said: