"Monsieur Estoc," he said, "marched this morning an hour before daylight; having, it seems, received tidings in the night which hurried his departure. The cottager whom I spoke with, told me that he believed those tidings were, that some bands were coming up from the side of Chartres." "The Bailli and our own people, on my life!" replied Chazeul; "or he would not have hurried away so soon. Which way did he go? I will have him pursued if they arrive in time." "Towards Mortagne," answered the servant; "at least, so the man said." "Did you hear aught of these hunters?" demanded his master. "They did not pass through the village, Sir," was the reply, "but they were seen upon the edge of the wood by some of the people, and seemed somewhat strong in numbers." "Then we must be strong ourselves, before we deal with them," observed his master, and rode on straight to the priest's house in the village. He found the worthy curé at the door of his dwelling--a stout, round faced, well-fed ecclesiastic; and, as so often happens in life, none of the objections or difficulties, against which answers had been prepared, were made. The priest merely expressed his sorrow that father Walter, his reverend friend, was unwell; and, knowing that both at funerals and marriages much good eating and drinking seldom failed to take place, he agreed to perform both ceremonies with equal pleasure. Well was it for the Marquis de Chazeul, that Estoc was not aware of his visit to the village; for the old soldier was not as far off as he imagined; and had he known that such a prey was near, it might have been long before the walls of Marzay had seen their lord's nephew within them again. CHAPTER XXXIII. Satisfied that the presence of Helen de la Tremblade in the château, had not been discovered, father Walter sat in the sacristy without any effort to quit it, although as the reader must have divined, from his words, it was in his power so to do, notwithstanding all the precautions of Madame de Chazeul's servants to prevent him. I had well nigh said that he sat there calmly; for the exterior was so tranquil and still, that it was requisite to look into his heart ere one could fancy that there was anything but repose within. Calm? Oh, no! There, all was agitated and turbulent. The clear precision of his thoughts indeed soon gained their ascendancy; and the plan was speedily laid out for meeting the difficulties of the moment, for overcoming the obstacles presented to him, for thwarting the schemes of his adversaries. All confusion of mere idea was speedily swept away; but much was still left behind: and that which did remain, was the tumult of conflicting passions, the struggle between strong convictions and habitual feelings.