Under other circumstances I might have smiled at the question, but then I simply replied in the affirmative.
"Bon! then get a horse from the stables, and let us begone."
In a few minutes our plan was detailed, and we all separated, inspired by anxiety and excitement. Three hussars took the road towards Dinan; three towards St. Paul le Plenguen; three on that which led to Montford, and other three on that which led towards Rennes. The armed servants under Urbain the gardener and the porter, who had been once a soldier, proceeded to search the woods and forests, while the chevalier and I departed at a gallop towards St. Aubin du Cormier, stopping for inquiry every person we met on the road.
The chateau was to be our point of rendezvous.
"Save her—bring her home in safety," were the parting words of the countess, "and I vow to God to hang a silver lamp worth a thousand livres on the altar at Roscoff!"
This was a little chapel near Leon in Brittany, built by Mary Queen of Scots, in memory of her landing there during a storm when on her voyage from Scotland to France.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE BLOODHOUND.
"When nothing remains of an adventure," writes some one, "it is always possible to consider it a dream." As yet I could not realize this, though frequently asking of myself, Is all this sudden calamity a truth?—for I thought, spoke, and acted as one who dreamed.
But three hours—they seemed so many ages—but three hours ago, I had been seated in yonder garden-bower with Jacqueline, listening to her voice, while her cheek reclined upon my shoulder, fearing nothing save the shadowy future, thinking of ourselves and of our love alone.