"May be, mademoiselle, but danger to-day would frighten me. The stake would be too heavy. Harm might happen to you. The Duke himself warned me that I should be a fool to enter the city again if harm came to you."
She was silent for a moment.
"That way surely must lie the hut of the charcoal-burners," she said hurriedly.
"Yes, mademoiselle."
Then she rode forward quickly, to conceal the color rising in her face.
Lemasle fell back again, regulating his horse's pace by hers. The captain's thoughts were busy too. He was among the few who knew that it was Maurice who had been rescued from the tower by Larne. He knew that he had returned to Passey. But Lemasle did not know that Mademoiselle de Liancourt had been sent merely to bid him come to the city. He fully believed that she was to remain a prisoner at Passey for a time. What was the Duke's purpose? he asked himself, and one possibility which came in answer to the question seemed to afford Gaspard Lemasle small satisfaction.
Presently the city rose before them, the towers of the castle standing grimly above the roofs, and the slender spire of St. Etienne piercing high into the clear atmosphere. In the foreground was the sweep of the river, with its old stone bridge; and as they rode forward with quickened pace, the faint music of the carillon reached them, laughing music; a welcome.
They passed over the bridge, waking hollow echoes, and the gates fell open. Within a strong guard was drawn up, and at a quick command there was the sharp rattle of the salute.
It was thus that at last the scholar of Passey entered Vayenne.