Pasdeloup did not so much as glance at the blazing tower. He was gazing at the woods about us, scanning each thicket with eyes preternaturally bright. It was still too dark for me to discern anything in the smudge of shadow beneath the trees, but my companion seemed to labor under no such disability. I knew of course that he was searching for some trace of his master.

“He said that he would wait for us at the edge of the wood,” I told him, “straight westward from the tower.”

“We came that way,” said Pasdeloup gruffly. “It was there I thought to find him, but he was not there. I will go back again. Wait here for me.”

In an instant he had disappeared beneath the trees so quietly that I did not hear so much as the rustle of a leaf. He melted into the forest; became a part of it.

I turned back to the tower and watched the flames as they leaped high in the heavens, as though striving to touch the stars, which faded and paled before the growing light in the east. Dawn was at hand, and I realized the folly of lingering there. That rope hanging from the window must be soon discovered—perhaps had been discovered long ere this—and pursuit of course would follow instantly. And my heart suddenly chilled at the thought that perhaps M. le Comte and the women had walked straight into a trap which had been set for them.

The thought brought me to my feet, and I looked to right and left with an overpowering feeling of helplessness. At the first step I would be lost. And yet I could not stand idle——

A sudden vivid sense of companionship caused me to start around. It was Pasdeloup who had returned as noiselessly as he had gone.

“You found them?” I asked.

He shook his head and sank to a sitting posture, his brows knitted, his eyes staring straight before him. I burned to ask the direction of his search, the details of it, but something in his attitude warned me to hold my tongue. Then suddenly his face cleared and he sprang to his feet.

“Come,” he said, and set off down the hill at a pace which I found it hard to equal.

Once among the trees the going was still more difficult, but Pasdeloup sped forward with astonishing ease and swiftness and as silently as a shadow. As for myself, I floundered through the underbrush and over the uneven ground as best I could. But the best was bad enough, and more than once I fancied that Pasdeloup had abandoned me to my own resources, as I certainly deserved. But always I found him patiently awaiting me. He seemed to have some well-defined objective point in view, for he went straight forward without looking to right or left. We came out at the end of half an hour into a gentle valley nearly free of trees, and up this he turned almost at a run. At last I panted after him up a little hill and found him calmly sitting at the top.

I flung myself beside him, breathless, utterly exhausted.

“Do not wait for me,” I said, as soon as I could speak. “You must find them—they need you more than I. I will shift for myself.”

“We stop here,” he answered, still gruffly. “They must pass this way.”

At last I was able to sit up and look about me. The hill on which we were stood at the junction of two little valleys.

“They must come by one of those,” continued Pasdeloup. “We will wait until they pass.”

“But why did they not wait for us in the wood?” I questioned. “Perhaps M. le Comte gave me up when I did not follow him.”

“No,” said Pasdeloup. “They waited, but they were discovered and forced to flee.”

“Discovered?” I repeated despairingly.

“At least a body of peasants passed over the spot where they had stopped. Perhaps they were not seen.”

I breathed again.

“And they will come this way?”

“They must, if they keep to the cover of the woods.”

“They will, of course, do that,” I said, and strained my eyes down each of the valleys in turn.

Our position commanded a considerable view of the surrounding country, but the château was hidden by a low spur of hill which ran down into the valley at our left. I fancied I could still see in the sky the reflection of the light from the burning tower, but a moment later I saw it was the sun just peeping over the trees to the east.

Then I began to chafe at the delay, for it seemed to me that we were wasting time. I glanced at my companion and found that apparently he had totally forgotten me.

“Pasdeloup,” I said at last, “are you quite sure that M. le Comte must pass this hill?”

He looked up with a start and a frown.

“Yes,” he answered harshly; and I saw that he himself was disturbed by the delay. “To north and south are only open fields where people are working, and many houses. He could not hope to pass that way unseen, especially with the women. He will know this. He will know that he must follow this valley to the west. In this way he can keep to the shelter of the hills until he reaches the valley of the Dive. Beyond that is the Bocage.”

“Yes,” I agreed; “it is the Bocage he will seek to reach. But perhaps he has already passed.”

Pasdeloup shook his head.

“Impossible. We came by a shorter way which the women could not have followed. Besides, he said he would wait for you. It is that which is delaying him. He fancies you are lost somewhere in the woods down yonder. I shall have to seek him;” and he rose to his feet with sudden resolution.

Then he stopped and stood for an instant staring down the valley.

“It is they!” he cried. “It is they!”

I sprang to my feet and followed with my eyes his pointing finger. For some moments I saw nothing—only the tangle of trees and underbrush; then I caught a movement among the trees and three figures came out into the little glade below us.

The women advanced slowly and with difficulty, as though already weary. M. le Comte paused to look back.

“You were right,” I said, touched to the heart. “He is still seeking me.” But Pasdeloup had placed his hand behind his ear and was listening intently, his face of a sudden rigid as stone.

“They have waited for you too long,” he said roughly. “They are followed;” and he plunged down the hillside, I after him.

M. le Comte had given an arm to each of the women and was hurrying them forward, encouraging each in turn. Not until we were almost upon them did he hear us; then he snatched out his pistols and whirled toward us.

“M. le Comte!” I cried. “Madame!” But my eyes were only for that other face, gray and dreary in the cold light of the morning. She had been staring listlessly at the ground, but at sound of my voice she started round upon me, her face white as death.

“Tavernay!” cried M. le Comte, a great light in his eyes. “And Pasdeloup! Ah, I understand now why you lingered!” and he held out a hand to each of us. “We thought you dead! We thought the flames had caught you!”

“Come,” said Pasdeloup. “This is no time for words.”

“You are right,” agreed his master. “Tavernay, I again entrust Charlotte to you.”

I crossed to her, took her hands in mine and drew her to me.

“I thought you dead,” she murmured, raising brimming eyes to mine. “I thought you had stayed too long;” and I felt how she was trembling.

“Come!” cried Pasdeloup again; “there is a hiding-place, if we can only reach it;” and he glanced anxiously over his shoulder.

I drew my love forward, my arm still about her.

“We are going to escape,” I murmured in her ear. “We are going to be very happy. God intends it.”

She looked up into my eyes and smiled tremulously. I could guess how near she was to absolute exhaustion and did my best to shield her. Our way for a time led over a smooth meadow, then we plunged into the rocky bed of a brook which mounted so steeply that our progress was very slow. The way grew more and more rough, great boulders blocked the path, and on either side the banks of the torrent rose abruptly to a height of many feet.

Then, from far down the valley behind us, came the bay of a hound.

M. le Comte stopped and listened.

“I know that sound,” he said. “That is Roland. What can he be hunting?”

“He is hunting his master,” answered Pasdeloup grimly. “Goujon devised that trick.”

“Goujon!” murmured M. le Comte. “Always Goujon.”

“It was he trained the dog,” added Pasdeloup. “Come; we are losing time.”

“The women cannot go much farther along such a road as this,” his master warned him.

“We have not far to go—just around that turn yonder, and we are safe.”

Suddenly behind us rose a chorus of savage yells.

“They have seen us!” said M. le Comte.

I drew my companion to me and half carried her up the steep slope over which in rainy weather the torrent plunged. Pasdeloup had already reached the top. As I looked back I saw a mob of men clambering savagely over the rocks below. At that instant M. le Comte panted up with madame in his arms.

“There!” he said with a smile of triumph, as he placed her on her feet. “That is accomplished! For the moment we are safe. They will never dare——”

A single musket shot rang out. I saw the smoke drift slowly up, and at the same instant madame staggered and fell into her husband’s outstretched arms.

“What is it?” he cried. “Oh, my love! My love!”

AS I LOOKED BACK I SAW A MOB OF MEN CLAMBERING
SAVAGELY OVER THE ROCKS BELOW

Her eyes were open and she was gazing fondly up at him. She tried to speak, but could not. Her lips were flecked with blood. Then her eyes closed, her arm fell limp.

It had happened so suddenly that I could not realize it—could not believe it.

“Come,” said Pasdeloup again, and touched his master’s arm.

M. le Comte lifted to us a face convulsed.

“Go!” he said hoarsely. “Pasdeloup, I charge you with those two. Save them! I can hold this mob back.”

Pasdeloup looked down at them. They were very near and climbing steadily upward. With a strength almost superhuman he caught up a huge boulder and sent it bounding toward them down the slope. They saw it coming and scattered; then, when a second followed it, fled wildly. Their advance had been checked for the moment.

Pasdeloup turned back to his master.

“Come,” he said again.

M. le Comte laid his wife’s body gently down and stood erect.

“I tell you I die here,” he said, a great calmness in his eyes. “Will you obey me, or will you not? I command you to guide these two to the hiding-place you spoke of.”

For an instant Pasdeloup’s eyes blazed defiance; then he glanced down at the enemy, and his lips curved into a smile. He bent his head and set off up the stream.

“Follow him, Tavernay,” commanded M. le Comte, seeing that I hesitated. “I would not save my life if I could—it is loathsome to me. I commend Charlotte to you. Go straight west to the Bocage; there you will find friends. God bless you!”

“I cannot go,” I faltered. “I cannot leave you here. That would be too cowardly!”

“Cowardly?” he echoed, facing around upon me. “It is I who have chosen the coward’s part! To you I give a duty far more difficult. Ah, here they come!” he added, and raised his pistols. “Go—I beg of you. Be brave enough to go.”

I could do nothing but obey—no other path lay open. With sinking heart I passed my arm again about the waist of my companion, who had seemingly lapsed into a sort of stupor, and followed Pasdeloup who was awaiting us impatiently at a little distance.

“This way,” he said; and turned from the bed of the torrent up the steep hillside. I paused for one backward glance at the friend I had abandoned. He was standing erect, pistols in hand. The tears blinded me, and I hastened on.

In a moment Pasdeloup stopped.

“Do you see that ledge of rock up yonder overgrown with vines?” he asked. “Put the vines aside and you will find behind them a very comfortable cavern. Enter it and you are safe.”

“And you?” I asked, seeing that he turned away.

“I? Oh, I return to my master;” and he was off in an instant.

I gazed after him, touched anew by that dog-like devotion, until he disappeared from sight down the bed of the torrent. In the distance I heard a rattle of muskets. They were attacking him, then; and I pictured to myself that gallant figure defying them, his eyes gleaming, a smile upon his lips. Ah, if I were only there beside him!

Then suddenly I became conscious of a dead weight on my arm, and glanced down to see that Charlotte was lying there unconscious.