r coat. He
is rightly indignant, calls you a traitor, and swears that he will never
speak to you again. But he doesn't want you hanged, Andre."
"Then we are agreed on that at least, for I don't want it myself."
"I'll make your peace with him. And now--good-bye, Andre. Send me a word
when you are safe."
She held out a hand that looked ghostly in the faint light. He took it
and bore it to his lips.
"God bless you, Aline."
She was gone, and he stood listening to the receding clopper-clop of
hooves until it grew faint in the distance. Then slowly, with shoulders
hunched and head sunk on his breast, he retraced his steps to the
main road, cogitating whither he should go. Quite suddenly he checked,
remembering with dismay that he was almost entirely without money. In
Brittany itself he knew of no dependable hiding-place, and as long as
he was in Brittany his peril must remain imminent. Yet to leave the
province, and to leave it as quickly as prudence dictated, horses would
be necessary. And how was he to procure horses, having no money beyond a
single louis d'or and a few pieces of silver?
There was also the fact that he was very weary. He had had little sleep
since Tuesday night, and not very much then; and much of the time had
been spent in the saddle, a wearing thing to one so little accustomed
to long rides. Worn as he was, it was unthinkable that he should go far
to-night. He might get as far as Chavagne, perhaps. But there he must
sup and sleep; and what, then, of to-morrow?
Had he but thought of it before, perhaps Aline might have been able to
assist him with the loan of a few louis. His first impulse now was to
follow her to the chateau. But prudence dismissed the notion. Before he
could reach her, he must be seen by servants, and word of his presence
would go forth.
There was no choice for him; he must tramp as far as Chavagne, find a
bed there, and leave to-morrow until it dawned. On the resolve he set
his face in the direction whence he had come. But again he paused.
Chavagne lay on the road to Rennes. To go that way was to plunge further
into danger. He would strike south again. At the foot of some meadows on
this side of the village there was a ferry that would put him across the
river. Thus he would avoid the village; and by placing the river between
himself and the immediate danger, he would obtain an added sense of
security.
A lane, turning out of the highroad, a quarter of a mile this side
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