The young man's laughter was redoubled at these words.
"On my faith," he said, "you are a charming companion, Mr. Oliver; and when I part from you, I shall often regret your agreeable company."
"In that case get ready to regret me, my lord," he replied with a smile, "for we have only a few minutes left to pass together."
"How so?"
"An hour at the most; but let us continue our journey. The sun is beginning to grow hot, and the shadow of the trees down there will be very agreeable to us."
They loosened their horses' bridles, and slowly went down the almost insensible incline which would lead them to the plain.
"Are you not beginning to feel the want of a rest after your fatigue, my lord?" the adventurer asked, as he carelessly rolled a cigarette.
"Really no, thanks to you; this journey has seemed to me delightful, although slightly monotonous."
"How monotonous?"
"Well, in France frightful stories are told about countries beyond the sea, where bandits are found in ambush every step you take, and you cannot go ten leagues without risking your life twenty times; hence it is with some degree of apprehension that we land on these shores. I had my head stuffed with stories to make one's hair stand on end. I was prepared for surprises, ambushes, desperate fights, and all that sort of thing. Well, after all, I have made the most prosaic journey in the world, without the slightest accident which I could narrate hereafter."