r, by his hearty
talk; though, indeed, for all his good-fellowship I would rather have
been alone with Madame in these last moments. About a league from
Chateaudun, he arrived at his own small estate, rich in wines and
orchards; he regretted that we would not stop, and recommended inns for
us at Bonneval and the towns beyond.

We rode on, the Countess and I, in silence, my own heart too disturbed
for speech, and she in that same dispirited state which had been hers
from the beginning of our flight. Indeed now, when I was so soon to bid
her farewell, she seemed more tired and melancholy, pale and drooping,
than I had yet seen her. As I was sadly noticing this, we came to a
place where a lesser road ran from the highway toward a long stretch of
woods at the right. The Countess drew in her horse, and said, indicating
the branch road:

"That is my way, Monsieur. I will say adieu here; but I will not even
try to thank you. You have risked your life for me many times over. I
will pray for you--with my last breath."

"But, Madame," I exclaimed in astonishment, "we are not to say adieu
here. I must see you to the convent."

"The convent is not so far now. I know the way; and I wish to go there
alone. You will respect my wish, I know: have you not had your way
entirely so far on our journey? You cannot justly refuse me my will
now." She gave a wan little smile as if she knew the argument was not a
fair one.

"But, Madame,--what can be your reason?--It is not safe. Surely you will
not deny me the happiness of seeing my service fully accomplished,--of
knowing that you are safe at the convent?"

"I am nearly there. I know the road,--it is a shorter way than the high
roads, but little used. I shall meet no travellers. I fear no danger."

"But consider, Madame. The danger may be at the very end of your
journey. The Count may have spies within sight of the convent. You may
fall into a trap at the last moment."

"I can go first to the house of a woodman in the forest, whose wife was
a servant of my mother's. They are good, trustworthy people, and can see
if all is safe before I approach the convent. If there is danger, I can
send word by them to the Mother Superior, who can find means to get me
in secretly at night. You may deem your service accomplished, Monsieur.
I must take my leave now."

"But it is so strange! What can be your reason?--what can be your
objection to my going with you?"

"Ah, Monsieur, it may be unfair,