"The stream swelled!" said Corse de Leon, in a thoughtful tone. "There must be something going on farther up in the mountains. The snows must be melting, or some glacier breaking up! However, let us go on by this other road. One of you remain here and see if we are followed," he continued, turning to the men behind him; "let the other go down to the cross, and tell Pinchesne and the rest to come over the hill. Let them leave one or two in the valley in case they should be wanted. Now let us on!" and he rode forward more slowly than before, though the left-hand road which he pursued was the longer of the two. He seemed, however, in one of those moody fits during which bitter memories continually mingled with a natural current of powerful abstract thoughts, changing their character from the calm reasoning of a man of acute and high-toned mind and intelligence, to morose and misanthropical ponderings, wherein all the images were gloomy and harsh. At such times his whole conduct and demeanour varied according to the mood of the moment: even his corporeal gestures, the quickness or slowness of his pace, as well as his look and his tone of voice, were all affected by what passed in his mind. When on his guard, indeed, no one was more deliberate, thoughtful, and measured, in every look, word, and gesture; but that was a matter of habit and acquired self-command. By nature he was one of those whose whole corporeal frame is, as it were unconsciously, the quick and ready slave of the spirit. A change had come over him since they had mounted their horses, and such was, in reality, the secret of his riding more slowly. He might be actuated, indeed, in some degree, by consideration for the animal on which he was mounted; for the way, as we have before said, was nearly two leagues longer, and the night was excessively hot and oppressive, so that the white foam was already about the horse's neck and bridle. The sky was clear of all clouds, however, and the stars were shining bright, though they seemed smaller and farther off than usual. As they turned, the distant pointed summit of an icy mountain was seen towering over one of the passes, white and glittering in the starlight, while around it, without any visible clouds, there played occasionally bright coruscations as of faint summer lightning. For some way Corse de Leon did not speak; but at length he said, putting his hand to his brow, "Were there any clouds in the sky, I should think there would be a storm to-night. It seldom happens that the elements, as is the case with human life, give us storms without clouds. We have generally some warning of the tempest." "There is a moaning sound in the hills," said Bernard de Rohan, "and yet I feel no wind. But do you not think," he continued, reverting to what his companion had said, "do you not think that it generally happens in human life we have some forewarning of the storms that befall us?"