“His enemies say that of him,” rejoined the Constable. “Hear me. If Bourbon comes back, it will be to liberate the people from oppression, and bring them peace and happiness. He loves France better than the king loves it.”
“In that case, I hope he may get away safely, and come back speedily,” said the old woman.
“Amen!” cried Bourbon. “Heaven has already delivered him from many dangers, and will not desert him now! Farewell, good dame!”
“A good journey to you, messieurs,” she rejoined. “Stay,” she added to Hugues; “though I can't furnish you with horses, I can supply you with provisions, and you will need them in the mountains.”
So saying, she hastily filled a basket with bread and cold meat, and did not neglect to add a couple of flasks of wine.
Armed with this supply, Hugues followed his leaders out of the house, and the party took their way along a rarely-trodden footpath towards the mountains.
They had not proceeded more than a league, when they found they were pursued by the provost of Vienne and his guard, and again sought shelter in a wood. Nor did they venture forth till nightfall, when they inarched on vigorously, and reached the mountains without further interruption.
Nearly four days, marked by incessant toil and exposure to hardship, difficulties, and dangers of many kinds, elapsed before Bourbon and his companions reached Chambéry.
Often, in the course of the wearisome journey, they lost their way among the mountains, for they did not dare to employ a guide, and only when compelled by absolute necessity did they approach a chalet.
Nevertheless, through all this fatigue and danger, Bourbon never lost heart—never for a moment doubted his ultimate escape. Both he and Pomperant had too often known a soldier's couch to heed sleeping amid the mountains with only the skies above them; and Hugues was not less hardy. Had it not been for the risk to which he was exposed, this kind of life would not have been without a charm to the fugitive prince. Magnificent scenery was presented to him. Mountains, sometimes bare and craggy, sometimes rounded and clothed with trees almost to their summit—while from these heights lovely views were obtained of broad and fertile valleys, watered by rapid streams, and peopled with villages—or a vast plain, spreading out for leagues, giving glimpses here and there of the rushing Rhone, and bounded in the distance by the snowy peaks of the Alps. Such were some of the prospects which cheered Bourbon during-his detention amid the Jura mountains.