“I persuade myself I do,” replied Hugues, “I have given my heart to her keeping, and hope one day to make her my wife—that is, if we can obtain Benoit's consent to the marriage.”
“In that case we will go to the mill,” said Bourbon. “You can answer for the miller's daughter, if not for the miller and his wife.”
“I can answer for all three,” replied Hugues. “I will stake my life that your highness shall be safe at the mill—-provided we can only get in; and what is more, we shall have a good stable for the horses.”
They then rode towards the mill. Close beside it was Benoit's dwelling—a substantial-looking tenement, which showed he must have thriven in his trade. A little to the rear of the house were a large barn and stable.
As the party approached the miller's abode, the alarm was given by the barking of a couple of fierce dogs in the stable-yard, and just as Hugues, who had dismounted for the purpose, was about to knock against the door with his whip, a chamber window was opened, and Benoit, thrusting forth his head, which was adorned with a tall bonnet de nuit, called out in a gruff voice:
“Hola! my masters, what do you mean by disturbing honest folk at this time of night? Go about your business.”
“Our business is to procure a lodging beneath your roof, père Benoit,” rejoined Hugues. “Don't you know me, my good friend?”
“What! is it Hugues?” cried the miller. “What brings you here, boy, and who have you got with you?”
At this juncture, Pomperant thought proper to interpose, declaring he was a captain of the royal guard of archers, on the way to Vienne, to intercept the flight of the Constable de Bourbon.
The explanation did not appear very satisfactory to honest Benoit, for he rejoined in a sullen tone: