"Yet stay a moment," said Chasseron. "I must send some one with you. He shall be here directly. Now farewell." He gazed on her for a moment--seemed to hesitate; and then, taking her hand in his, raised it to his lips, kissed it, not warmly, though tenderly, and, repeating the word "Farewell," turned to the door. When his fingers were upon the latch, however, he looked round saying, "Wait till somebody comes from me--He shall not be long;" and then, opening the door, he left her once more alone. Ere ten minutes were over, Helen was joined by an elderly man, in a riding dress, who bowing low, said, "I have come from Monsieur de Chasseron, Mademoiselle, and am to accompany you to Rolleboise." Helen expressed her readiness to set out; and following her new guide through the corridor and down the stairs, found the two old soldiers who had accompanied her, waiting with some impatience and anxiety in the hall. The whole party were soon on horseback; and, riding slowly through the darkness, with the bright Seine glistening on their right, reached Rolleboise in about three quarters of an hour. The little inn, however, which, at that time, stood wedged in between the high banks and the river, was filled to the doors; but at Bonnières, about two miles farther, they found all quiet and tranquil; and the accommodation which they wanted, was easily procured. Helen retired to rest at once; and rising early the next morning to pursue her way, found the man who had guided her from Rosni, waiting to see her depart. Nothing more occurred on her journey worthy of the reader's attention, and I shall only therefore notice, that, at Châteauneuf, she found that Estoc and the funeral procession of the old Commander had already passed on towards Marzay. She was here obliged again to pause for the night, and did not reach the village of Marzay, which lay at the distance of about half a league from the château, till sunset on the following day. She found Estoc waiting her arrival, full of anxiety on many accounts; for some communication had naturally established itself, between the people of the château and their old companions, and many of the events which have been recorded in the preceding pages had become known to the old soldier. The news she brought him of her interview with Chasseron seemed to interest him much. Its first effect, however, was to throw him into a fit of meditation, and he made little or no comment, but by the words, "He can do it if he will;--and yet I love not this rumour of the boy's death. He is hot and quick; and there may be truth in it, though, I think it is but one of their lies after all." "Whose death?" cried Helen de la Tremblade, turning as pale as death, "not Monsieur de Montigni's?" "Ay, so they have spread abroad the report," replied Estoc, "but 'tis a falsehood I believe, to drive poor Rose to do what they want. I trust in heaven she will not believe it."