"As for the killing," I replied, "there was no treachery or unfairness on his part; and if he deserted from the King's French Guards, it was when the King had consented to give him up to the Duke of Guise, whom the weak King, then as now, hated as much as feared." She gave a heavy sigh, and went on, "La Tournoire is a brave man, of course?" "He is a man," I said, "who expects to meet death as he meets life, cheerfully, not hoping too much, not fearing anything." "And this hiding-place of his," she said, in a very low voice, again dropping her glance to the ground. "Tell me of it." I gave her a description of the ruined Chateau of Maury. "But," she said, "is not the place easily accessible to the troops of the Governor?" "The troops of the garrison at Clochonne have not yet found the way to it," I replied. "The chateau was abandoned twenty years ago. Its master is an adventurer in the new world, if he is not dead. Its very existence has been forgotten, for the land pertaining to it is of no value. The soldiers from Clochonne could find it only by scouring this almost impenetrable wilderness." "Is there, then, no road leading to it?" she asked. "This road leads hither from Clochonne, and on southward across the mountain. There are the remains of a by-road leading from here westward to the chateau, and ending there. But this by-road, almost entirely recovered by the forest, is known only to La Tournoire and his friends. A better way for the Governor's soldiers to find La Tournoire's stronghold, if they but knew, would be to take the road along the river from Clochonne to Narjec, and to turn up the hill at the throne-shaped rock half-way between those towns. At the top of that hill is Maury, hidden by dense woods and thickets." Mlle. de Varion, who had heard my last words with a look of keen attention and also of bitter pain of mind, now rose and walked to and fro as if meditating. Inwardly I lamented my inability to drive from her face the clouds which I attributed to her increasing distress, as she found herself further and further from her father and her home, bound for still gloomier shades and wilder surroundings. I asked if she would go in and hear the music of the gypsy, or have him come out and play for her, but she thanked me with a sorrowful attempt at a smile, and returned to her own chamber. When the sun declined, I ordered Marianne to prepare the best supper that her resources would allow, and then, as it was time that Blaise should have been back from Maury, I went to a little knoll, which gave a view of a part of the abandoned byroad, to look and listen for him. Presently, I heard the sound of a horse's footfalls near the inn, and made haste back to see who rode there. Just as I reached the cleared space, I saw the rider disappearing around a bend of the road which led to Clochonne. Though I saw only his back, I recognized him as mademoiselle's boy, Pierre, mounted on one of her horses.