"It is Pierre!" cried Gabrielle joyfully, and rose from her work, though she waited still in the doorway till her brother came towards her, smiling his welcome first into her flushed, glad face, before he turned to de Coray.
"Monsieur," he said, bowing low with a sweep of his tall fool's cap, which seemed more mockery than deference, though perchance he meant it not—"monsieur, all is well. The enemies of monsieur ride towards Nantes and Angers; it is evident that they have forgotten so humble an abode as that of Pierre the fool. Moreover, methinks they scarce suspect me of assisting you, seeing that I was found sleeping this morning between the good hounds Gloire and Reine."
"And the forest?" questioned de Coray eagerly.
"That also they have searched, monsieur, though it is evident not yet with sufficient care; my lord indeed hath commanded that every corner of Brittany be searched till you are found, and hath offered a goodly reward for your capture, but for the present he himself is too much occupied with attending upon Monsieur Yvon to direct the search in person."
De Coray smiled, casting a side glance towards Gabrielle, who had entered the hut to prepare supper, as he added in a lower key—
"Heardst aught, my friend, of one Kerden? In their search for me did they light, perchance, on a man who bears that name, who methinks might even now be haunting yon woods?"
Pierre glanced up to meet his patron's inquiry with a look as shrewd as de Coray's own.
"Monsieur," he said simply, "it appears that this Kerden will no longer haunt the forest of Arteze in the flesh, and if all be true of which men talk at the château, the devil will have been too swift in bearing off his spirit to its own place to leave it chance of roaming yonder at nightfall."
"Dead?" echoed de Coray, with a long-drawn sigh of relief. "Thou art sure of it?"
"Verily," retorted Pierre, "if the word of mademoiselle, and the bloody jaws of Gloire are sufficiently to be trusted. The hound killed him, so 'tis said, out yonder on the heath, where the courils dance on moonlit nights; but monsieur will be wise to delay no longer. See, the horse is a good one, and fresh too; there are also provisions for a journey, though methinks they were prepared for other jaws to consume than those of monsieur, but they will taste none the less sweet for that." And the strange lad chuckled gleefully over his jest.