"Mademoiselle----"
"No, sir!" she retorted, turning from him. "I did not speak to you; but to you, M. le Vicomte! Sir, you hear me? Is it not your will that we order the horses and go from here?"
"If we can go safely----"
"You cannot go safely!" des Ageaux said, with returning decision. "If you have nothing to fear from the Captain of Vlaye, the Countess has. Nor is that all. These men"--he pointed in the direction of the peasants, who were buzzing about their huts like a swarm of bees--"have forced my hand, but through fear and distrust, not in malice. They mean us no harm if we mean them none. But the Old Crocans, as they call themselves, in the town on the hill--if you fall into their hands, M. le Vicomte--and beyond the lines of this camp no one is safe from their prowling bands--then indeed God help you!"
"God help us whether or no!" the Vicomte answered in senile anger. "I wash my hands of it all, of it all! I am nothing here, and have been nothing! Let who will do! The world is mad!"
"Certainly we were mad when we trusted you!" the Abbess cried, addressing des Ageaux. "Never so mad! But if I mistake not, here is another with good news! Oh!" to the Bat, who, with a shamefaced air, was hovering on the skirts of the group, as if he were not sure of his reception, "speak, sir, without reserve! We all know"--in a tone of mockery--"how fair and safely we stand!"
Des Ageaux turned to his follower. "What is it?" he asked.
"The prisoner is missing, my lord." The Abbess laughed bitterly. The others looked at the Bat with faces of dismay. "Missing? The man we have promised to hold for them. How?" des Ageaux exclaimed sternly. This was a fresh blow and a serious one.
"When I saw, my lord, that we were like to be in trouble here, I drew off the two men who were guarding him. He was bound, and--we had too few as it was."
"But he cannot have passed the ramparts."