“I know it,” he replied; “I thought only of her when I came, but I must get away now for her sake. Charlot, I thank you,” he said, holding out his hand; “I do not know why you should do so much for us who are, in your eyes, heretics and criminals.” The hunchback smiled as he returned the pressure of d’Aguesseau’s hand. “Life is a mystery,” he rejoined, with a new dignity that became him well, “and so is death.” He went with François down the Rue St. Antoine and stood at the gate watching him until his figure disappeared on the long white road. Later le Bossu would go himself to keep the appointment, for he too had an errand there; nor could he rest until he knew that mademoiselle was safely out of the neighborhood of Nîmes. But there was time yet, and he wanted to know what Père Ambroise intended to do, and where M. de Baudri would next cast his net. Meanwhile, out at St. Césaire, Babet and Rosaline were safely hidden in the blacksmith’s house. It was a little cottage on the outskirts of the village, and from the rear the inmates could easily reach the woods about St. Cyr. The smith had been a faithful though humble friend to the family at the château, and like many others, he was a concealed Huguenot. He and his wife therefore gladly ministered to Rosaline’s comfort and set a simple dinner of _pot-au-feu_ before their two guests. Babet and Truffe did ample justice to the meal, but Rosaline could not eat, in spite of Babet’s remonstrances. The young girl was frantic to be off, to fly to her lover, that they might seek safety together; and she had not the older woman’s prudence, who felt that another dinner might be a long way off, and who did not believe profoundly in the culinary accomplishments of the Cévenols. The hour came at last, and bidding her faithful friends, the smith and his wife, adieu, Rosaline set out with her escort, Babet and the dog. Nothing had occurred to alarm them or to indicate that their hiding-place was suspected, and the blacksmith’s boy, employed for scout duties, brought in the report that St. Cyr had been deserted since the previous day, when Rosaline had left it. The two women entered the place, therefore, with lighter hearts. Babet was determined to enter the château, if possible, to secure Madame de St. Cyr’s jewels and a considerable sum of money that had been secreted to provide for just such an emergency; for they had for many years expected to be denounced as Huguenots. Rosaline was to remain near the hedge that surrounded the garden, to warn Babet if any one approached, while the older and stronger woman went for madame’s iron box. Rosaline doubted the wisdom of the attempt, yet neither of the two women cared to face the wilderness without money to pay for either shelter or food, and it was impossible to open the secret place where the box was while the dragoons lurked about the house.