"Yes. You will have time enough to see him to-morrow and all the rest of your days," was the reply.
"True, he will be free to-morrow!" rejoined Bertrande. "To-morrow, dear, we will begin again our peaceful life of former days."
"Postpone your caresses till to-morrow, too," observed the fierce jailer, "for now you must leave."
Bertrande kissed once more the hand which Arnauld du Thill held out to her royally, waved a last adieu to him, and preceded the jailer from the cell.
As the latter was closing the door, Arnauld called him back.
"May I not have a light, a lamp?" he asked.
"Yes, to be sure, just as you have every evening," said the jailer; "that is, until curfew,—nine o'clock. By our Lady! we don't treat you as harshly as Arnauld du Thill; and then, too, your master, the Comte de Montgommery, is so generous! You are well taken care of to oblige him. In five minutes I will bring your candle, friend Martin."
The light was brought to him very shortly by a turnkey, who withdrew at once, wishing the prisoner good-night, and reminding him anew to extinguish it at curfew.
Arnauld du Thill, when he found himself alone, quickly removed the linen suit that he wore, and clothed himself no less speedily in one of the famous suits, composed of a brown jerkin and yellow tricot small-clothes, which he had discovered in Martin-Guerre's chest.
Then he burned his former costume piece by piece in the flame of his candle, and mingled the ashes with those which were lying on the hearth.