The sound of horses' hoofs fell on their ears.
"Time is flying, my son!" exclaimed the baroness. "You must not linger another moment."
A slow rain was falling. The hussars were drawn up in order, and their captain had nothing to do but mount his horse and place himself at their head.
"Saddle horses and right about!" sounded the subdued watchword; and the squadron wheeled around. The trumpeter was dead, but the valiant band needed no bugle blast to spur it forward. In a moment it had vanished in the mist and darkness.
The two women were escorted by old Paul back to the watch-fire, where the market-woman awaited them. Paul himself was to remain behind with one other sentinel to deceive the patrol and allay suspicions. Then the two were to hasten after their comrades.
Dawn was breaking when Edith reëntered the convent. A cry of horror was raised in the refectory over her appearance at such an hour. In the whole nunnery not an eye had been closed that night, so great was the alarm caused by Sister Remigia's return unaccompanied by her companion. The door of the coach had been found open, Edith was not inside, and the sister, awaking from her slumbers, could not account for her disappearance. And what made matters worse, no one dared take any action that should publish the scandalous occurrence abroad.
Edith found herself besieged with questions on all sides: where in the world had she been, and what had she been doing all night?
"I will give my answer this evening—not before," she declared; and as her unheard-of contumacy yielded to no threats or scolding, chastisement was resorted to.
The pious sisters were horrified when they began to undress their obstinate charge and found her clothes all wet and stained with mud. Who could tell where she had been roaming about in the night? But she would answer not a word to their questions.