“After all,” I muttered to myself, “I have done right in following. I am now sure of their destination. Back to the Hotel Saint Luis!”
The last phrase was a command to my coachman, who turning his horse drove back.
As I had promised to pay for speed, it was not long before the wheels of my hackney rattled over the pavé of the Rue Saint Luis.
Having dismissed the carriage, I entered the hotel. To my joy I found D’Hauteville awaiting my return, and in a few minutes I had communicated to him my determination to carry off Aurore.
Bare friendship his! he approved of my resolve. Rare devotion! he proposed to take part in my enterprise, I warned him of its perils—to no purpose. With an enthusiasm I could not account for, and that greatly astonished me at the time, he still insisted upon sharing them.
Perhaps I might more earnestly have admonished him against such a purpose, but I felt how much I stood in need of him.
I could not explain the strange feeling of confidence, with which the presence of this gentle but heroic youth had inspired me. The reluctance with which I accepted his offer was only apparent—it was not felt. My heart was struggling against my will. I was but too glad when he stated his determination to accompany me.
There was no boat going up that night; but we were not without the means to travel. A pair of horses were hired—the best that money could procure—and before sun-down we had cleared the suburbs of the city, and were riding along the road that conducts to the village of Bringiers.