His face was haggard and his dress much disordered. It was evident that he had not paused for either rest or food.
“She is at St. Césaire, I trust,� the cobbler replied calmly; “she and Babet got away from Père Ambroise’s house last night and started this morning in disguise for St. Césaire.�
He made no mention of his share in the deliverance, and François jumped to another conclusion.
“Faithful Babet!� he exclaimed joyfully; “doubtless she planned it all. I will follow them at once.�
“You must meet them at the appointed spot, not elsewhere,� said the cobbler. “I was to meet them between the bridge and the cataract, at the spot where the old mulberry stands. Do you recall it?�
“Perfectly,� replied d’Aguesseau, “but why there?�
“Because they are to hide at St. Césaire until afternoon; then, if there is no pursuit to St. Cyr, they can start without being observed. If the château is too closely guarded, they will wait until night,� he added; “but it will not be, for no one will think of their return to the close vicinity of danger; it is Nîmes that will be searched for them.�
“But why can I not go straight to them now?� François demanded impatiently.
The cobbler sighed. “Monsieur,� he said patiently, “every house, every cottage is watched, and if you are recognized—�
He broke off with an expressive gesture.