haste!" Maurice had said to the messenger charged with
bearing a letter to the baroness.

Nevertheless, the man did not reach Escorval until nightfall.

Beset by a thousand fears, he had taken the unfrequented roads and had
made long circuits to avoid all the people he saw approaching in the
distance.

Mme. d'Escorval tore the letter rather than took it from his hands. She
opened it, read it aloud to Marie-Anne, and merely said:

"Let us go--at once."

But this was easier said than done.

They kept but three horses at Escorval. One was nearly dead from
its terrible journey of the previous night; the other two were in
Montaignac.

What were the ladies to do? To trust to the kindness of their neighbors
was the only resource open to them.

But these neighbors having heard of the baron's arrest, firmly refused
to lend their horses. They believed they would gravely compromise
themselves by rendering any service to the wife of a man upon whom the
burden of the most terrible of accusations was resting.

Mme. d'Escorval and Marie-Anne were talking of pursuing their journey
on foot, when Corporal Bavois, enraged at such cowardice, swore by the
sacred name of thunder that this should not be.

"One moment!" said he. "I will arrange the matter."

He went away, but reappeared about a quarter of an hour afterward,
leading an old plough-horse by the mane. This clumsy and heavy steed he
harnessed into the cabriolet as best he could.

But even this did not satisfy the old trooper's complaisance.

His duties at the chateau were over, as M. d'Escorval had been arrested,
and nothing remained for Corporal Bavois but to rejoin his regiment.

He declared that he would not allow these ladies to travel at night, and
unattended, on the road where they might be exposed to many disagreeable
encounters, and that he, in company with two grenadiers, would escort
them to their journey's end.

"And it will go hard with soldier or civilian who ventures to molest
them, will it not, comrades?" he exclaimed.

As usual, the two men assented with an oath.

So, as they pursued their journey, Mme. d'Escorval and Marie-Anne saw
the three men preceding or following the carriage, or oftener walking
beside it.

Not until they reached the gates of Montaignac did the old soldier
forsake his _protegees_, and then, not without bidding them a respectful
farewell, in the name of his companions as well as himself; not without
telling them, if they