“It is easier to say use your weapons than to do it,” answered one of the ruffians. “One can’t see a bit, and the young demon goes on so that we don’t know how to get hold of her.”
Mitaine continued to lay about her on all sides until one of her opponents cried out, with a fierce oath, “Curse the girl! she has stabbed me in the eye!” And the wounded man in his fury, listening only to the voice of rage, struck out wildly and hit one of his comrades, whereupon ensued a general melee, of which the young girl availed herself to escape.
“Farewell, Croquemitaine!” she cried; “he will have to be swift of foot who overtakes me in running.” But instead of making her escape she climbed into a tree, and hid herself among the branches.
“Follow her! I swear by the Evil One that I’ll hang every one of you if she escapes!”
Mitaine now heard her enemies groping among the underwood, trying the holly and juniper bushes with the points of their swords, until at last the sound died away, and she heard no more. However, she determined on remaining in her place of concealment until dawn.
“I shall know how to recognise you this time, Master Croquemitaine! One of your fellows has lost an eye, and I have noticed that they have a Westphalian accent,” said the brave girl, as she reached the ground. “If Heaven conducts me safely to the camp of my royal sponsor, you shall be uncloaked, I will promise you on my faith!”
She knelt down, breathed her matin prayer, and resumed her way, trusting to Providence to recover her right path. When she had walked for about an hour she heard distant shouts, and the blast of a horn.
“Who can tell what I may have to encounter now? Prudence is not cowardice; so I had better conceal myself, and reconnoitre.”
Again Mitaine climbed into a tree, and watched. Before long she saw a party of soldiers approaching, exploring the forest, beating the bushes, and shouting to the full extent of their lungs. She then heard her own name, and recognised her father, who, in great alarm, headed the searchers in person. She was not long in descending from her perch, I assure you. How delighted she was to fling herself into Miton’s arms!
For a minute they occupied themselves in exchanging embraces and broken sentences, to which neither thought of listening, and which had to be begun afresh as soon as the first outbreak of joy was over. The Count of Rennes related his fears at not seeing his beloved child return on the previous evening, his alarm when Vaillant returned home alone, and how he had spent the night in searching the forest. Having said thus much, he allowed his words to give place to renewed caresses.