"Still, the future might have had less difficulty in it if a man had quarrelled with you to-night instead of a woman pleaded," Seth answered.
"True enough, but one cannot choose the difficulties he will face. We must take them as they come, and console ourselves with the reflection that there is a good purpose somewhere behind them."
"For all that, Master Richard, there are some who overburden themselves with difficulties which do not concern them. It will be pleasant traveling with a pretty woman, but I fancy trouble is likely to ride in our company, too. They mostly go together, women and trouble; and the prettier the women are, the greater the trouble, that's my experience. There's just one question in my mind: on which side are we ranged—with the people or with the aristocrats?"
"With the people. Once this woman is in Paris, I——"
Seth looked at him, waiting for the completion of the sentence. It remained unfinished.
"A wise pause, Master Richard. Who can tell what may happen in Paris? Indeed, we may never reach Paris. At dawn, you said. That gives little time for rest. In these hills the sun gets up early."
Dim twilight was on all the plain, darkness in the wood, when Richard Barrington and Seth tied their horses to a tree and awaited the coming of Jeanne St. Clair at the wood end. Ever the first to catch the fire from the upcoming day, the summits of the great double mountain which dominated the country blushed a faint rose color which each instant glowed brighter and clearer, and then peak after peak was caught by the same rose flush, and light, like a gracious benediction, fell slowly into valley and gorge, while myriad shades of color pulsated into new life in earth and sky. The two men watched this magic beauty of the dawn in silence. So wondrous was it, so majestic, so far beyond the schemes and thoughts of insignificant man, that it was almost impossible not to see in it some portent, something of promise or warning. Even Seth, practical and farseeing as he was, forgot the actualities of life for a little space, while Richard's dreams took flight into that upper world of rosy flame and forgot the deep valleys, dark with difficulty and danger. This new day which was being born was perfect, with a beauty his eyes had never seen before; the woman he waited for was perfect, too, a revelation. She and the dawn filled his soul. They were more real than anything past, present, or to come, and his being sang a Te Deum of thanksgiving.
"She should be here," he said, turning to Seth and speaking in a hushed voice without knowing that he did so.
Seth laid his hand sharply upon his arm, and pointed through the trees to the road which came down to the plain from Beauvais. Four men were approaching, walking quickly and talking together. They came straight towards the end of the wood as men having a purpose.
"Quick! The horses!" said Barrington. "Draw back farther into the wood and let them pass."