at very spot, almost
at that very hour, and for a moment I grew warm again at the thought of
the little packet I carried in my boot. But the landlord's dry manner,
the sullen silence of his two companions, whose eyes steadily refused
to meet mine, chilled me again. For an instant the impulse to refuse
to mount, to refuse to go, was almost irresistible; then, knowing the
madness of such a course, which might, and probably would, give the
men the chance they desired, I crushed it down and went slowly to my
stirrup.

'I wonder you do not want my sword,' I said by way of sarcasm, as I
swung myself up.

'We are not afraid of it,' the innkeeper answered gravely. 'You may keep
it--for the present.'

I made no answer--what answer had I to make?--and we rode at a footpace
down the street; he and I leading, Clon and the shock-headed man
bringing up the rear. The leisurely mode of our departure, the absence
of hurry or even haste, the men's indifference whether they were seen,
or what was thought, all served to sink my spirits and deepen my sense
of peril. I felt that they suspected me, that they more than half
guessed the nature of my errand at Cocheforet, and that they were not
minded to be bound by Mademoiselle's orders. In particular, I augured
the worst from Clon's appearance. His lean malevolent face and sunken
eyes, his very dumbness chilled me. Mercy had no place there.

We rode soberly, so that nearly half an hour elapsed before we gained
the brow from which I had taken my first look at Cocheforet. Among
the dwarf oaks whence I had viewed the valley we paused to breathe our
horses, and the strange feelings with which I looked back on the scene
may be imagined. But I had short time for indulging in sentiment or
recollections. A curt word, and we were moving again.

A quarter of a mile farther on, the road to Auch dipped into the valley.
When we were already half way down this descent the innkeeper suddenly
stretched out his hand and caught my rein.

'This way!' he said.

I saw that he would have me turn into a by-path leading
south-westwards--a mere track, faint and little trodden and encroached
on by trees, which led I knew not whither. I checked my horse.

'Why?' I said rebelliously. 'Do you think I do not know the road? The
road we are in is the way to Auch.'

'To Auch--yes,' he answered bluntly. 'But we are not going to Auch,'

'Whither then?' I said angrily.

'You will see presently,' he replied with an