delay in starting; for Marie had to change her own
clothes as well as pack her young mistress's simple trunks. But the
time did not hang heavily on the hands of the two waiting in the little
drawing-room, and Marie turned an uneasy glance toward the open door
more than once at the sound of their laughter.

Barebone was riding a horse hired in the village of Mortagne, and
quitted the chateau first, on foot, saying that the carriage must
necessarily travel quicker than he, as his horse was tired. The night
was dark, and darkest to the west, where lightning danced in and out
among heavy clouds over the sea.

As in all lands that have been torn hither and thither by long wars, the
peasants of Guienne learnt, long ago, the wisdom of dwelling together
in closely built villages, making a long journey to their fields or
vineyards every day. In times past, Gemosac had been a walled town,
dominated, as usual, by the almost impregnable castle.

Barebone rode on, alone, through the deserted vineyards, of which the
scent, like that of a vinery in colder lands, was heavy and damp. The
road runs straight, from point to point, and there was no chance of
missing the way or losing his companions. He was more concerned with
watching the clouds, which were rising in dark towers against the
western sky. He had noted that others were watching them, also, standing
at their doors in every street. It was the period of thunder and
hailstorms--the deadly foe of the vine.

At length Barebone pulled up and waited; for he could hear the sound of
wheels behind him, and noted that it was not increasing in loudness.

"Can you not go faster?" he shouted to Jean, when, at length, the
carriage approached.

Jean made no answer, but lashed his horse and pointed upward to the sky
with his whip. Barebone rode in front to encourage the slower horse. At
the village of Mortagne he signed to Jean to wait before the inn until
he had taken his horse to the stable and paid for its hire. Then he
clambered to the box beside him and they rattled down the long street
and out into the open road that led across the marshes to the port--a
few wooden houses and a jetty, running out from the shallows to the
channel.

When they reached the jetty, going slowly at the last through the heavy
dust, the air was still and breathless. The rounded clouds still towered
above them, making the river black with their deep shadows. A few lights
twinkled across the waters. They we