The river gliding on in rapid descent, but without rush and coil, reflected the light above. It was as though a heaven of sparks seen through tears lay at the feet of Jean as he stood and waited in vain for the ferry.
He was vexed at the delay. Time was speeding along. His father's condition made him uneasy. The old man was singularly reticent and stolid; he expressed no satisfaction at his release.
After waiting and renewing his shouts to no purpose, one of the men said—
"There is a wedding in this ferryman's wife's family. I have a notion that he may have gone to the merrymaking. It is not often that there are passengers at night that need his punting-pole."
"We must try the ford," said the other.
"Where is that?" asked Jean, impatiently.
"Further down."
"Then lead to it immediately. We have already squandered too much valuable time."
The party now descended the river-bank till the spot was reached where the Dordogne could be traversed without danger by the horsemen.
The beasts went in. There had not been much rain of late, consequently the ford was passable. The water, however, surged up the leg when the horses had entered to their girths.