The hour passed rapidly, and
when it had passed Badelon was inexorable. There was wailing when he
gave the word to mount again; and Tignonville, fiercely resenting this
dumb, reasonless flight, was at heart one of the mutineers. But Badelon
said grimly that they might go on and live, or stay and die, as it
pleased them; and once more they climbed painfully to their saddles, and
jogged steadily on through the sunset, through the gloaming, through the
darkness, across a weird, mysterious country of low hills and narrow
plains which grew more wild and less cultivated as they advanced.
Fortunately the horses had been well saved during the long leisurely
journey to Angers, and now went well and strongly. When they at last
unsaddled for the night in a little dismal wood within a mile of Clisson,
they had placed some forty miles between themselves and Angers.
CHAPTER XXXII. THE ORDEAL BY STEEL.
The women for the most part fell like sacks and slept where they
alighted, dead weary. The men, when they had cared for the horses,
followed the example; for Badelon would suffer no fire. In less than
half an hour, a sentry who stood on guard at the edge of the wood, and
Tignonville and La Tribe, who talked in low voices with their backs
against a tree, were the only persons who remained awake, with the
exception of the Countess.
Pages:
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399