Mademoiselle looked at the distant towers and the mountains beyond with an expression of dread. She gave a heavy sigh and shuddered in her saddle.
"Nay, mademoiselle," I said; "you have nothing to fear there."
She turned pale, and answered, in a trembling voice:
"Alas, monsieur! Am I not about to put those mountains between myself and my father?"
I thought of the joy that I should cause and the gratitude that I should win, should I succeed in bringing her father safe to her on those mountains, but I kept the thought to myself.
We skirted Clochonne by a wide détour, fording the Creuse at a secluded place, and ascended the wooded hills in single file. After a long and toilsome progress through pathless and deeply shaded wilds, we reached, in the afternoon, the forest inn kept by Godeau and his wife. It had been my intention to stop and rest here, and to send Blaise ahead to Maury, that one of the rooms of our ruined château might be made fit for mademoiselle's reception. I had expected to find the inn, as usual, without guests, but on approaching it we heard the sound of music proceeding from a stringed instrument. We stopped at the edge of the small, cleared space before the inn and sent Blaise to reconnoitre. He boldly entered and presently returned, followed by the decrepit Godeau and his strapping wife, Marianne. Both gave us glad welcome, the old man with obsequious bows which doubtless racked his rheumatic joints, the woman with bustling cordiality.
"Be at ease, monsieur," said Marianne. "We have no one within except two gypsies, who will make music for you and tell your fortunes. Godeau, look to the horses."
I dismounted and assisted mademoiselle to descend. Then, on the pretext of giving an order, I took Marianne and Godeau aside, and bade them to address me as M. de Launay, not on any account as M. de la Tournoire. The old man then saw to our horses, and Marianne brought us wine.
"Before sunset," I said to mademoiselle, as I raised my glass, "you shall meet the Sieur de la Tournoire at his hiding-place."
Mlle. de Varion turned pale, and, as if suddenly too weak to stand, sat down on a wooden bench before the inn door. Jeannotte ran to support her.