The two women and le Bossu had followed the course of the stream, walking rapidly along the bank, and now they descended the rocky path by the cataract. They were travelling west and the afternoon sun shone full in their faces; the wind was blowing too,--a chill November wind that swept the leaves from the chestnut trees and dropped the empty burrs. They had not wasted breath in words, and now le Bossu left them and ran forward, looking under the lowest branches; then he whistled softly. There was a response, and Babet and Rosaline stopped in alarm; they expected no one. The next moment, however, a tall figure came rapidly towards them and Rosaline recognized her lover. She gave a little sob of joy and ran to meet him, the dog bounding beside her. They met a few yards in front of the others and he caught her in his arms, supporting her trembling form. Le Bossu looked but once; in their joy they had forgotten him. He turned his back and approached Babet, putting a small but heavy bag in her hands. “That is mademoiselle’s,” he said calmly; “guard it well. And now--go on in God’s name! Do not let them tarry, for Death is behind them.” Babet had learned to value the poor little hunchback, but she was sober and undemonstrative. “Where are you going?” she asked bluntly. He pointed to the woods. “Back,” he said, “to keep them from finding Mère Tigrane who would set them on your track. I will delay them all I can.” “It is well,” Babet remarked, “you are a good man, Charlot; the _bon Dieu_ will bless you. I suppose you do not want the blessing of a heretic?” He smiled. “Do not tarry,” he said, warningly. “Keep straight to the west; M. d’Aguesseau will guide you. Adieu!” He looked once more toward the lovers, but they were still absorbed in each other. The cobbler turned sadly away, and climbing the steep path was lost to sight among the trees before Rosaline knew that he had gone; and he never heard her thanks, never knew her remorse because she had, for the moment, forgotten him in her own joy. There was no time for her to redeem her error; there was only time to flee on and on, with a terrible danger pursuing them and lurking for them at every step.