When Marie Bastien and her guide left the farmhouse they found that the
fog had lifted, and that the moon was shining brightly.
A profound silence reigned.
Jean Francois strode on for a moment or two in silence, then, moderating
his pace, he turned and said:
"Pardon, me, madame, I am going too fast, perhaps."
"Too fast? Oh, no, my friend, you cannot go too fast. Go on, go on, I
can keep up with you."
Then, after they had walked a few minutes longer in silence, Marie
asked:
"When you saw my son, did he seem excited or agitated?" And as the
farmer turned to reply, Madame Bastien exclaimed:
"Don't lose a minute, talk as we walk."
"I can hardly say, madame. I saw him come out of the forest, run across
the road, and enter a thicket which he had probably selected as a
hiding-place."
"And you think you would know this thicket?"
"Unquestionably, madame. It is only about ten rods from the sign-post on
the main road to the chateau."
"What a distance it is, Jean Francois! Shall we never get there?"
"It will take a quarter of an hour longer."
"A quarter of an hour!" murmured the young mother. "Alas! so many things
may happen in a quarter of an hour."
Madame Bastien and her guide hurried on, though more than once the young
woman was obliged to press both hands upon her breast to still the
violent throbbing of her heart.
"What time do you think it is, Jean Francois?" she asked a few minutes
afterward.
"Judging from the moon, I think it must be about seven o'clock."
"And when we reach the edge of the forest we are near the thicket, you
say?"
"Not more than a hundred yards at most, madame."
"You had better enter one side of the thicket, Jean Francois, and I will
enter the other, and we will both call Frederick at the top of our
voices. If he does not answer us," continued the young woman with an
involuntary shudder, "if he does not answer us, we shall be obliged to
continue our search, for we must not fail to find him."
"Certainly, madame, but if you will take my advice you will not call M.
Frederick."
"But why not?"
"We might give warning to the gamekeepers who are probably on the watch,
for a bright moonlight night like this seems to have been made expressly
for poachers."
"You are right. But do you hear that?" she exclaimed, pausing and
listening attentively. "It sounds like the ring of horse's hoofs."
"It is, madame. It may be that the head gamekeeper is making his rounds.
Now we have reached the edge of the forest, madame, we will take this
short cut, for it will take us straight to the guide-post, only look out
for your face, for there are so many holly-bushes."
And more than once Marie's delicate hands were torn and lacerated by the
sharp points of the holly-leaves, but she was not even conscious of it.
"Those bullets, why did he want those bullets?" she said to herself.
"But I will not allow myself to think of it. I should die of terror, and
I need all my strength."
Just then the sound of horse's hoofs, which had seemed to come from a
long way off, rang out louder and louder, then ceased entirely, as if
the animal had paused entirely or settled down into a walk to ascend a
very steep hill.
"It was only about twenty yards from here on the top of the hill that I
saw M. Frederick enter that thicket on the edge of the road," said the
farmer, pointing to a large clump of young oaks. "I will go around on
the other side of the thicket, you can enter it on this side, so we
cannot fail to find M. Frederick if he is still there. In case I meet
him before you do, I shall tell him that you want him to give up his
poaching at once, sha'n't I, madame?"
Marie nodded her assent, and entered the little grove in an agony of
suspense, while Jean Francois hurried on.
The horse was now near enough to the top of the hill for his tread to be
distinctly heard, though he was moving so slowly, and in another instant
horse and rider both became distinctly visible in the bright moonlight.
The rider was Raoul de Pont Brillant, who had been obliged to take this
route after leaving the Vieille Coupe road.
Frederick, who was familiar with every path and road in the forest, had,
by making a short cut through the woods, reached the top of the hill
considerably in advance of the young marquis.
Marie soon reached quite a large clearing that extended to the roadside.
Near the edge of this clearing stood an immense oak, and the thick moss
that covered the ground beneath it deadened the sound of any footsteps
so effectually that the young woman was able to approach without
attracting the attention of her son, whom she saw half hidden by the
enormous trunk of the tree. Too deeply absorbed to notice his mother's
approach, Frederick was kneeling bareheaded on the grass, holding his
gun half lowered as if confident that the moment to raise it to his
shoulder and fire was close at hand.
Though she had endeavoured to drive away the terrible thought, there had
been a strong fear of the possibility of suicide, so it is easy to
imagine Madame Bastien's intense joy and relief when, from her son's
posture, she concluded that the farmer's suspicions were justified and
that her son was merely poaching on his neighbour's preserves; so, in a
wild transport of tenderness and delight, the young mother sprang
forward and threw her arms around her son at the very instant he brought
his gun to his shoulder, muttering the while, in a ferocious tone:
"Ah, M. le marquis, I have you now."
For Frederick had just seen Raoul de Pont Brillant slowly advancing
toward him through the clear moonlight, lazily whistling a hunting song.
Madame Bastien's movement had been so sudden and so impetuous that her
son's gun fell from his hands at the instant he was about to fire.
"My mother!" murmured Frederick, petrified with astonishment.
The horse's tread and the hunting song Raoul de Pont Brillant was
whistling had partially deadened the noise Madame Bastien had made.
Nevertheless, the young marquis seemed to have heard or seen something
that had excited his suspicions, for, standing up in his stirrups, he
called out, imperiously, "Who goes there!" then listened attentively
again.
Marie, who had just discovered the reason of her son's presence in the
forest, placed her hand over Frederick's mouth and listened
breathlessly.
[Illustration: "HE BROUGHT HIS GUN TO HIS SHOULDER."]
Receiving no response after waiting several seconds, and not supposing
for one moment that his unknown enemy could have gotten here in advance
of him, Raoul settled himself in his saddle again, saying to himself:
"It was some startled deer leaping through the bushes;" after which
the mother and son, silent, motionless, and locked in a firm embrace,
heard the young man begin to whistle his hunting song again.
The sound grew fainter and fainter until it died away altogether in the
profound silence that pervaded the forest.