“What we will do!” cried Agathe. “Oh! my dear love, let us go, let us run as fast as we can. Look! in ten minutes it will be eight o’clock!”
“Yes, yes; we will go at once! Gournay bridge—that isn’t very far.—And on an island above the mill—yes, I have noticed some islands there, on which it seems impossible to land. Mon Dieu! if only we can find a boat—somebody to row us!”
“Yes, we shall find someone; heaven will help us, it will take pity on us! you see, somebody has warned us. This note comes from Monsieur Paul, of course—or from Monsieur Freluchon.”
“Yes; and they won’t let them fight before we arrive. Let us go!”
The young women hastily seized shawls and bonnets, and rushed from the garden, calling to Poucette, who asked them where they were going so, without breakfast:
“We are going to prevent them from fighting!”
While Honorine and Agathe hastened at the top of their speed toward the bank of the Marne, Edmond, accompanied by Freluchon and Paul, betook himself to the appointed place.
It was a pretty bit of woodland, a short quarter of a league from Chelles. But it was not far from some houses, and a cabaret, established in what was once a keeper’s house, was within two hundred yards.
“It is very pleasant here,” said Freluchon; “this little clump of trees seems to invite one to a picnic rather than to a duel!”
“But for Monsieur Duronceray,” said Edmond, “I should never have been able to find the place.”