d," saying which the old man proceeded at a rapid pace
towards the willow tree. Observing on his way a full bag on Justin's
shoulder, Bonaik said to him: "What have you got in that bag?"

"Master Bonaik, while you were talking to the intendant, Gervais and I,
fearing some oversight on your part, took, out of precaution, I, my bag
in which I stowed away the rest of our provisions, and Gervais the wine
pouch which is still half full."

"You are wise lads; we have a long tramp before us after we shall have
disembarked."

A few minutes later and the old man, together with his companions,
arrived at the old willow tree. A boat stood ready. Four slave oarsmen
sat on the benches, with the steersman at the rudder. "At last!" said
the steersman in a peevish tone. "Here we have been waiting over three
hours; we are chilled through, and have more than two hours to row--"

"I am going to give you a piece of good news, my friends," answered the
goldsmith to the boatmen. "I have brought oarsmen with me to relieve
you. You can go back to the monastery. The steersman alone will have to
remain to pilot the boat."

Glad and quickly the slaves jumped out of the boat. The steersman
resigned himself not without a murmur. Bonaik let Rosen-Aer and
Septimine enter first. Amael and the apprentices took hold of the oars,
the steersman the rudder, and the boat swiftly left the bank behind,
while Bonaik, wiping the sweat from his brow, said with a sigh of relief
and joy:

"Oh, my boys, this was a casting day such as I never saw in the workshop
of the great Eloi!"

CHAPTER XII.

MOTHER AND SON.

At noon of the day following the exciting night in which the fugitives
left the abbey, they halted for rest after having been uninterruptedly
on the march from the time that they disembarked at the other shore of
the abbey's pond. Thanks to the precaution of the apprentices, one of
whom had brought provisions and another a pouch of wine, their strength
was speedily restored. The travelers had sat down upon the grass under a
wide-spreading oak whose foliage was yellowed by the late season. At
their feet flowed a stream of limpid water, behind them rose a hill that
they had just traveled over, following the track of an old Roman road
that had fallen into decay. The road continued for a long distance until
the turning of a wooded headland behind which it disappeared. Far away
in the distant horizon stood outlined the dark blue mountain-tops