Edward had many motives for so shaping his course. He had heard a vague rumor that the Duke of Lorraine had made his peace with France, and therefore he was as likely to be interrupted in the duke's territories as anywhere. In the next place, he knew that his evasion must be discovered early on the following morning, and the pursuit was of course likely to be directed on the side where the open doors and the sheet tied to the cannon gave evidence of the course he had first taken. But, after all, there was a certain degree of whim, or character, or call it what you like, in it. He had told Monsieur de Bourbonne that if at liberty he would go straight to the Cardinal de Richelieu. Some people might have thought that it was going straight into a lion's den. But Edward did not fear; and he determined to go frankly and at once throw himself upon the cardinal's generosity, tell him all he had done and all he had suffered, and show him that he had kept his word in coming back to him, though only seven months, instead of two years, had passed since they had parted. He anticipated no obstruction in that direction if he could once get at a distance from Coiffy; for he still had the cardinal's safe-conduct about him. CHAPTER XXXVII. Twenty miles in a day is no great walking. I myself have walked forty in ten hours. But the great point is what we walk over. It is the great point in life, too; for the worthy patriarchs, I have no doubt, journeyed through life for two or three hundred years without getting weary, simply because they had such an easy road to travel. Abraham had to fight now and then, it is true, and from time to time there was a quarrel amongst the herdsmen; but these were little incidents that only served to enliven the way; and the rest of the travel was without excitement of mind or great exertion of body. If Abraham or Isaac or Jacob had passed through nothing but low entangling bushes,--bilberries and cranberries, and sometimes blackberries, with their long prickly arms,--they would have laid themselves down to rest much sooner, and felt themselves as tired as Edward Langdale when, just about daybreak, he reached the end of the twentieth mile from the Chateau of Coiffy. Edward had then arrived at a country somewhat more open; and he sat himself down to rest not far from a little country-road, which he could trace by the eye, running on, almost in a straight line, toward the tall square tower of a village-church. But that village-church was at least six miles distant; and Edward had not tasted food during fourteen or fifteen hours. His wet clothes had dried upon him, too, under the cold night-wind, stiffening every limb; and he had no comfortable little brandy-bottle, such as so often cheers the way for the modern romantic traveller.