"Very well, monsieur," he said, "Let me say but this: You remember my forebodings the last time we rode through the province. Because we came back alive, you thought there was nothing in them. Perhaps there was nothing. Only I have been thinking that out of that last journey may yet come our destruction. My premonition may have been right, after all." I smiled and walked back to the courtyard and sat down on the bench, no longer angry at either De Berquin or Blaise, and calm in the thought that there seemed no immediate danger. If I could but communicate my sense of security to mademoiselle! If I might see a smile on her face, if the look of yielding would but come back there and remain! Surely her scruples would pass when I should bring her father to her. What imaginary barrier could stand before the combined forces of love and gratitude? The rescue of her father must not be longer deferred. I must form my plan immediately. Yet I continued to waste time thinking of the future, of the day when she should acknowledge herself mine. I took off my hat and removed from it the glove that she had given me. It was like a part of her; it was fashioned by use to the very form of her hand. I pressed it to my lips and then looked up at the window of her chamber. "Ah, Mlle. Julie," I said, "I know that you love me. You will be mine; something in the moonlight, in the murmurs of the trees, in the song of the nightingale, tells me so. How beautiful is the world! I am too happy!" I heard rapid footsteps from outside the gate, and presently one of my men ran into the courtyard from the forest. It was Frojac, who had been all day in Clochonne in search of information. Seeing me, he stopped and stood still, out of breath from his run. At the same moment Blaise came from the garden and stood beside the bench, curious to hear Frojac's news. "Ah, Frojac!" said I. "From Clochonne? I know your news already. M. de la Chatre is there." And I motioned to him to speak quietly, lest his news, which might be alarming, should reach the ears of mademoiselle through her chamber window. "I had a talk with one of his men," said Frojac, "an old comrade of mine, who did not guess that I was of your troop. I told him that I had given up righting and settled down as a poacher. He says that it is well known to the governor's soldiers that the governor has come south to catch you. He declares that the governor knows the exact location of your hiding-place." "Soldiers' gabble," said I. "But my old comrade is no fool," went on Frojac. "I pretended to laugh at him for thinking that any one could find out the burrow of La Tournoire, and as we were drinking he got angry and swore that he spoke truly. He said that the governor had got word of your hiding-place from a boy. If you knew my comrade, monsieur, you would know that what he says is to be heeded. He is one who talks little, but keeps his ears and eyes open."