“No insult was offered to Francezka. I told them that if any were many lives should pay for it; but I think they never contemplated that; we were held for vulgar ransom, and that only. Ten days ago we were brought to this place. I knew we were near Uzmaiz, although Schnelling stoutly denied it. I do not know how the days have passed; only, the strangest thing in the world has happened—Francezka told me to-day she had not been really unhappy a moment since we left Mitau. The time with both of us has flown fast. No one has molested us. We have spent the hours together in these wild forests, watched, it is true, but still virtually alone. At night Francezka has slept soundly on her bed of boughs, while I watched; and she has risen at dawn, while I slept.”
“And she watched,” I said.
Gaston blushed deeply and made no reply.
The fire was flaming redly; all else black—black sky, black earth, black trees. My eyes turned again to the larch tree under which Francezka slept. She had wakened, and raising herself upon her arm, was gazing at me with those eloquent eyes of hers. I went over toward her. She sat up on the edge of her bed of boughs, and disposing her cloak about her, so as to hide her masculine dress, she said, smiling:
“I knew you would come, and I thank you with all my heart. When do we depart?”
“To-morrow morning, Mademoiselle,” I replied.
“And why not to-night?” she asked, turning to Gaston Cheverny, who had also approached.
“It would be difficult for us men to travel through these wilds by night, and for you it would be impossible.”
Then Francezka said to me, most earnestly: