The Chevalier de Canaples approached me timidly.
"Monsieur," quoth he, "I have wronged you very deeply. And this generous
rescue of one who has so little merited your aid truly puts me to so much
shame that I know not what thanks to offer you."
"Then offer none, Monsieur," I answered, taking his proffered hand.
"Moreover, time presses and we have a possible pursuit to baffle. So to
horse, Monsieurs."
I assisted Mademoiselle to mount, and she passively suffered me to do her
this office, having no word for me, and keeping her face averted from my
earnest gaze.
I sighed as I turned to mount the horse Michelot held for me; but methinks
't was more a sigh of satisfaction than of pain.
. . . . . . . .
All that night we travelled and all next day until Tours was reached
towards evening. There we halted for a sorely needed rest and for fresh
horses.
Three days later we arrived at Nantes, and a week from the night of the
Chevalier's rescue we took ship from that port to Santander.
That same evening, as I leaned upon the taffrail watching the distant coast
line of my beloved France, whose soil meseemed I was not like to tread
again for years, Yvonne came softly up behind me.
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