“M’sieu, if I could thank them——” interjected Jean.
Then for a while they pressed on in silence.
Morning had begun to break, and they plodded forward still. Roy had pleaded for one more little break, for the boy was nearly at an end of his powers; but Jean refused.
“Courage, M’sieu! Courage! But a little farther, and we will rest. To stop here, if the gendarmes come quickly, would be fatal. Does M’sieu wish to be re-taken? See, the day dawns, and we have made good advance; but soon the gendarmes will scour the country round. And here, where could we hide, if overtaken? Courage! A little further yet!”
“All right,” panted Roy, dragging along his leaden-weighted limbs. “I’ll keep it up—as long as you wish. Wonder how many miles we’ve done.”
“Not so many as M’sieu would think. In the darkness one must walk with care.”
“And are we to hide all day?”
“Mais oui. It is safer to be in hiding than to journey on. There is a cottage in a wood, which belongs to a friend of mine, and he has made ready for our coming. A little way ahead still. The danger increases each minute. For if any man should see us now, and the gendarmes coming here should learn that we have lately passed—voyez-vous? Can M’sieu increase his speed?”
Roy made a vehement effort, and Jean grasped his arm, urging him along. Presently they neared the wood, and turned in thither, Jean’s look of anxiety lessening as the trees closed round them. He consented then to a slight relaxation of their pace, though reiterating his “Courage, M’sieu—one more half-hour, and the worst is done.”