"It is not yet late in the forenoon," replied Batoche. "Mademoiselle might tarry somewhat longer. I think she might render her journey still more agreeable."
Through these simple words, Zulma was not slow to discern the meaning of her old friend. Her cheek reddened and her eye got animated, spite of the exertions she made to hide her emotions.
"Some of your old tricks of divination again," she said laughing. "Pray, why should I tarry longer?"
Batoche met her ardent glance with a flash of intelligence. Pointing to a little clump of wood, about a quarter of a mile to the right, he said:
"I gave him your note, mademoiselle. He was deeply moved. He declared he would treasure it all his life. Perhaps he has answered you already."
Zulma shook her head slowly, but made no interruption.
"He is there, mademoiselle, with his command. Perhaps in a few days, he may be ordered further forward. If he knew that you were so near him and did not see you, I am certain that he would be deeply distressed. If he knew that you were here, he would ride out at once to meet you."
Zulma still maintained silence, but she could not conceal the agitation which these words produced within her.
"Mademoiselle," continued Batoche, "will you advance with me a little, or shall I go on and tell him that you are here?"
"I put myself in your hands," said Zulma in a low voice, bending over to the old soldier.