Gabriel continued, "I say again, I have collected sufficient proofs to justify me in believing that I am on the right track. But now I must have your assistance, my friend. At the end of this week, start for your own province, but do not go directly there. Be at Lyons one month from to-day. I will meet you there at that time, and we will take measures for acting together."
"I will do as you say, Monseigneur," said Martin-Guerre; "but shall I not see you again, meanwhile?"
"No, no, I must be alone henceforth," Gabriel replied, vigorously. "I am going away again now; and do not try to hinder me, for it would simply cause me needless pain. Adieu, my dear friends. Martin, remember,—at Lyons, a month hence."
"I will await you there, Monseigneur," said the squire.
Gabriel took leave with great warmth of Jean Peuquoy and his wife, pressed Aloyse's hands in his, and without seeming to notice the good soul's grief, set out once more to resume that wandering life to which he seemed to have condemned himself.
CHAPTER XXXIII
IN WHICH ARNAULD DU THILL APPEARS ONCE MORE
Six weeks later than the events last described, on the 15th of June, 1558, the green vine which clung to the brown walls of the finest house in the village of Artigues, near Rieux, served as a background for a picture of rural domesticity which while somewhat homely in character was not entirely without significance.
A man who, to judge from his dusty boots, had been walking quite a considerable distance, was sitting upon a wooden bench, carelessly holding his feet toward a woman who was on her knees before him busily unlacing his boots.
The man was frowning, the woman smiling.