Once more mademoiselle cast an uneasy look at the riders in the distance rearward.
"Ah!" said I, with a smile, "you have no fear for yourself, yet you continue to look back with an expression that very nearly resembles that of fright."
"I do not fear for myself," she said, quite artlessly; "it is for you that I fear. M. de Berquin will surely try to revenge himself for the humiliation you gave him."
A joyous thrill sent the blood to my cheeks. Without disguising my feelings, I turned and looked at her. Doubtless the gladness that shone in my eyes told her what was in my heart. Realizing that her frank and gentle demonstration of solicitude was a confession to be received with ineffable delight by the man to whom it was tendered, she dropped her eyes and a deep blush overspread her face. For some time no word passed between us; enough had been said. I knew that the look in my eyes had told more, a thousand times, than all the extravagant compliments with which I had, half banteringly, deluged her at the inn.
We might, by hard riding, have reached Maury on the night of that day, but mademoiselle's comfort was to be considered, and, moreover, I desired to throw De Berquin off our track before going to our hiding-place. Therefore, when Clochonne was yet some leagues before us, we turned into a by-way, and stopped at an obscure inn at the end of a small village. This hostelry was a mere hut, consisting of a kitchen and one other apartment, and was kept by an old couple as stupid and avaricious as any of their class. The whole place, such as it was, was at our disposal. The one private room was given over to mademoiselle and Jeannotte for the night, it being decided that I and Blaise should share the kitchen with the inn-keeper and his wife, while the two boys should sleep in an outer shed with the horses.
Roused from sluggishness by the sight of a gold piece, which Blaise displayed, the old couple succeeded in getting for us a passable supper, which we had served to us on the end of an old wine-butt outside the inn, as the kitchen was intolerably smoky.
"A poor place, mademoiselle," said I, ashamed of having conducted so delicate a creature to this miserable hovel.
"What would you have?" she replied, with a pretty attempt to cover her dejection by a show of cheerfulness. "One cannot flee, for one's liberty, through the forest, and live in a château at the same time."
As for the others, hunger and fatigue made any fare and shelter welcome. Blaise, in particular, found the wine acceptable. Conscious of the glances of Jeannotte, now flashing, now demure, he strove to outdo himself in one of his happiest accomplishments, that of drinking. The two boys, Hugo and Pierre, emulated his achievements, and only the presence of mademoiselle deterred our party from becoming a noisy one.
Blaise became more and more exuberant as he made the wine flow the more generously. Seeing a way of diverting mademoiselle from her sad thoughts, I set him to telling of the things he had done in battle when controlled by the sanguinary spirit of his father. He had a manner of narrating these deeds of slaughter, which took all the horror out of them, and made them rather comical than of any other description. He soon had mademoiselle smiling, the maid laughing, and the two boys looking on him with open-eyed admiration. Finding Jeannotte and the boys so well entertained, mademoiselle allowed them to remain with Blaise when she retired to her room.